Mr. Rosen was a likeable, forty-year-old history teacher at a private school in New York City. He had a vice however, he liked to put his dork into twelve-and thirteen-year-old girls!
Mrs. Rigatta tortured and humiliated her weak husband, but aside from being a stacked redhead, she seemed normal to her students. The English teacher joined up with Mr. Rosen to fulfill her dreams of having all the children in her class at her mercy.
Together, the bizarre couple turned a group of innocent young girls, barely past puberty, into a crying, screaming group of sex-craving nymphomaniacs. The teachers had spiked the Halloween party's punch and candy with Spanish Fly!
Mr. Rosen made Debbie, the willowy little raven-haired innocent of just thirteen, into his willing sex slave. She was taught to lick his feet and to please his dork in her warm rectum. Her friend, twelve-year-old blonde Millie, crying constantly as she was tortured and humiliated also served his whims.
Mrs. Rigatta loved to hurt and sexually abuse children so much that she left her husband and moved in with Mr. Rosen to participate in degrading and hurting Debbie and Millie.
At the party, Mrs. Rigatta appeared in her costume of metal and leather, with a whip, and as the children cringed, the strict disciplinarian woman forced them to do her bidding.
The man and woman teachers sought to outdo one another, thinking of bizarre humiliations and painful sex-tortures to perform on the pupils. Night after night they made the girls cry, and they made two thirteen-year-old boys fuck the girls in the rear, laughing and whipping the boys while they voyeuristically watched.
Every pretty little girl in the school soon suffered the pain of Mr. Rosen's entry, front and rear, and they wept and pleaded without avail as Mrs. Rigatta removed their skimpy cunt hairs with a tweezer!
The teachers wanted to teach one thing: the joy of sex and pain, to their students, and they did a good job!
CHAPTER ONE
A small progressive junior high school on Central Park West in New York City needs good teachers. The wealthy parents who send their lovely sons and daughters to such a school demand that the instruction be of the finest quality.
Morgrave Institute had one of the finest history teachers available, Mr. Arthur Rosen. Aside from being a fine instructor, he was well liked by the twelve-and thirteen-year-old girls and boys in his class. He was the very picture of a competent person; greying temples, brown eyes and gaunt, usually wearing a conservative double-breasted grey suit of herringbone tweed.
Yet Mr. Rosen was also not without a sense of humor. Occasionally the students would get a glimpse of that lighter side of his nature. He was not at all like the English teacher, Mrs. Rigatta, a stern disciplinarian whose class hated her. She always made them sit still and tautly erect while she dryly lectured. Outwardly she bore no resemblance to Mr. Rosen.
Inwardly, the two teachers were much the same. They longed to have sex with their rich pupils, and since Mrs. Rigatta was a stacked redhead and Mr. Rosen an affable, handsome gentleman, they had eyes for each other as well.
Naturally, there was a great deal of unseen tension at the small private school; a tension that would someday explode into an affirmation of the need for sex and pain that is latent even in the youngest of teenagers.
However, on the particular day that Mr. Rosen opened his roll book for the new fall semester, there was little indication that this school year would be any different from the previous ones.
"Mildred!"
"Here, Mr. Rosen."
"Tambi Wong-Fing!"
"Here."
"Harry, Harry Morgenstern!"
"Present."
The roll call accounted for all of the twelve students, nine girls and three boys. A rather uneven class, but a pretty one, thought Mr. Rosen, noticing a slight stiffness in the front of his pants. He decided to sit rather than stand for his introductory remarks. The sight of those fresh female faces, those slim puberty-achieved thighs under the petite miniskirts had undone his calm.
"I hope we have a good semester, and I am sure we will, for we will be studying the period of ferment in Europe commonly known as the 'Age of the Revolutions.' Can anyone tell me what period I am referring to?"
The prettiest girl, Debbie Milford, the black-haired one with the slim, slim legs in pink panty hose, the one with the smooth white face and noble features, answered.
"I think you refer to the era of approximately 1650 to 1812."
"That is approximately correct, Miss Milford. Very good."
Mr. Rosen's heart sank as the girl took her seat. She was succulent, so tender, he thought. He knew he couldn't stand up to address the class until her visage had faded from his mind, for his erection was as hard as a two-by-four up against his zipper at that moment.
He had worried about the way he would react to teaching this semester; he knew he had developed a rather perverse taste for every teenage girl over the summer. The summer had been a strange one up at the lakehouse. An unmarried man of forty could wind up alone with a thirteen-year-old girl on a summer like that which he had.
Her name had been Brenda Lattimore; she had been a swimming instructor at a girl's camp. He had been lonely; trout fishing isn't enough even for the stuffiest of bachelors, and it hadn't been enough for Arthur.
Ever since his wife had died at the age of twenty-five, he had been alone. Alone sexually, not without friends and pupils, but alone sexually, the worst way to be alone.
He had met that young girl with blonde hair, Brenda, while he had been fishing. It had been too much of a temptation. She said they were alone and that she was a nymphomaniac. She said no one would ever know. He had taken her, taken her right there in the woods, and she had groaned and heaved her hips just like his dead wife once had under him. Her pale naked young body reminded him of his young wife....
Suddenly Arthur realized that he had been drifting away in thought instead of addressing the class. He started to tell them about the course, about the grading of papers, about the assignments. But his mind was still on that rose petal pussy of Brenda, the thirteen-year-old girl in the woods. His mind was on the fact that there were so many girls in his class, all Brenda's age, all pretty....
Brenda had not resisted him, and yet he had hurt her; that's what scared Arthur the most; the fact that he had hurt the girl. It was just that sex, sex sort of reminded him of his dead wife, and guilt crept up in him. His wife had died while they were having sex. They said it wasn't his fault-a heart attack, but....
Anyway, what he did in the woods was wrong. It was doubly wrong because he had screwed a thirteen-year-old blonde and because he had hurt her naked body. He had slapped her face while he fucked her, and he had bit her tight little titties as she pleaded that he cease.
What happened to me, he thought. That summer had been the summer that he could no longer stand to be without sex, but it was also the summer he learned to love the body of a naked teenage girl, to love and to hurt it at the same time.
"As you can see, class, this will be a most interesting semester." Interesting indeed, he thought, interesting and dangerous for me. The pulchritude in this room, the virgin pussy, all those soft twelve-year-olds and thirteen-year-olds without a mark on their bodies....
Stop it; stop it! he told himself, there mustn't be anything like what happened that summer. There mustn't be.
As he continued his discussion of the historic events of the pre-Napoleonic era in Europe, he stared at Debbie's legs. She was in the front row, and she slouched. He thought it was his imagination, he thought it was, but he swore that he could see her pussy hairs as she slouched in her chair.
Could it be, could it be that she wore no undies under those pink semi-transparently panty-hosed legs?
As his lecture progressed, the sun came out and he opened the blinds a bit more. It wasn't necessary for illumination. Indeed, it made the blackboard hard to read for the pupils. But it made it easier to see up into Debbie's skirt, and that is what he wanted.
The glorious unfolding of the pink-clad legs revealed what he had suspected: thirteen-year-old nubile Debbie wore no underwear! Ah, what a sight, he reveled in it.
I must have that girl; somehow I will have that pussy. I will have my dick in her like I had Brenda, but I won't hurt her. He thought that the lack of panties was a good sign.
The day was uneventful, except that when he came down the steps in front of the school at quitting time, he ran into sexy Mrs. Rigatta, whose busty and rather whorish features attracted Arthur. Her red hair was as flaming as ever. She, being the newest teacher on the ten teacher faculty made a point, he knew, of being strict with the kids.
"Hello, Mrs. Rigatta." He wanted to say, "How about getting pumped up the ass, Mrs. Rigatta?" or "How about me at least pinching your big round whore's ass?" He wanted to say those things but those things can't be said.
He wondered who Mr. Rigatta was, and why he never saw him.
Mrs. Rigatta looked Arthur up and down. Not bad at all, very dignified looking, and also gaunt the way she liked men. Someday I'll give Mr. Rosen a break and let him put it into my asshole or my flaming pussy, but I can't say that; you can't say things like that.
Mr. Rosen lowered his eyes from the buxom woman's chest down to her crotch. Her skirt was rather short for an English teacher....
Look at the way he stares me up and down, mused the English teacher. I can see that he needs sex badly. Poor fellow, I heard about how his wife died a few years back. He probably hasn't had it since. I'll bet it's pretty hard working in a school with such lovely young poontang and not being able to get fucked!
Mr. Rosen watched as Mrs. Rigatta moved her wiggling ass towards the bus stop, and especially as she stepped up into the front door of the vehicle. What thighs the redhead has; what sensuously curved thighs for an English teacher!
Arthur walked to the cross town bus stop wondering if Mrs. Rigatta's husband beat her, and if he didn't, whether she beat him. He wondered what kind of a sex life they had together.
On her bus, Mrs. Rigatta looked forward to pounding the shit out of her husband and making the weakling kiss her feet and peg for mercy before she mounted his dick and slapped him as she took her pleasure. She smiled.
When Mr. Rosen got home to his Greenwich Village apartment building, he found a huge crowd outside, near the El Galleria restaurant on the comer.
"What's going on?" he asked Sal, the affable old janitor in coveralls.
"Seems like a bug is in the store buying dinner for his Oriental wife."
"What?"
"A bug; you know, one of those guys with guitars from England. The people are nuts about them. Frankly, I can't see all that moaning and groaning myself. I suppose I am too old for it."
Mr. Rosen laughed as he walked away. As he put the key in the latch he laughed again. A bug indeed! Sal was so funny sometimes....
Of course, what the superintendent had meant was that one of the famous musicians had been eating at the Galleria, and that a crowd had gathered to see him and his lovely wife.
Arthur pulled up the shade and peered out. He could see the limousine of the famous rock and roll singer idling near the corner. Momentarily, from his vantage point, Arthur could see the star, the famous composer, walk to the limousine as people shouted, "There he is!" and other such things.
A few people managed to shake his hand and elicit a word or two before the limousine pulled away.
"Well," said Arthur, aloud, "that's that!"
It was funny seeing such a famous person in the flesh. It was funny to think that such a famous person ate in the same restaurant that he did-but why not?
Soon, as Arthur lay on the bed, he thought about his age. I am too old, he thought. Shit, I wish I was one of those thirteen-year-old boys. With the knowledge I have of sex I could easily undo one of those lovely nymph's dresses and plunge it in her....
Unzipping his pants and glancing up to see, to make sure that the blinds were down, Arthur retrieved his huge hairy dork from inside his fly and stroked the aching member urgently. While he masturbated he closed his eyes and imagined Mrs. Rigatta, nude, spreading the white and round little ass cheeks of succulent lithe Debbie, the girl in the first row.
In his mind's eyes he saw himself jamming his monstrous cock head into the thirteen-year-old's rectum and sliding in. He jacked himself off with a fury, staining the bedspread temporarily with a long streak of milky men's stuff.
I wonder if Debbie would fuck that famous composer. I bet she would, despite the fact that he is nearly my age. I bet any of the twelve-year-old girls would gladly get deflowered by one of those musicians. I bet that they would love for him to put in into their tight vaginas and rip in and out, in and out....
Arthur's prick became limp in his wet hand. He came so well when he thought about Mrs. Rigatta and one of the girls in the class being at his sexual mercies. If he only could do it to them, that would be the best thing in life; that and only that would make him forget his wife....
Masturbating is all right, but it is far better to jam it up a twelve-year-old girl's newly awakening pussy hole, that's for sure. Brenda, the girl in the woods was just thirteen the day he penetrated her. For a birthday present Mr. Rosen, the kindly Mr. Rosen, had given the girl's breasts and rump huge bruises and a bite mark or two and had filled her with his come.
If I did it once, if I fucked the shit out of a young girl once, then perhaps I could get Debbie in the first row to spread for me someday after school....
"What am I saying!" Again he talked aloud to himself. He was beginning to worry about the way he would talk to himself but there was no one else to speak to in his bachelor apartment.
I wonder if pussy is as sweet to the composer as it is to me. He looked pretty sexy and his wife is a good piece....
Arthur, feeling old, kicked off his shoes and with his prick as limp as a chocolate cookie in the rain hanging outside his fly, he dozed off, thinking about Debbie's pink legs and her between-the-legs bud.
When he awoke it was dark, and it was raining outside. He could hear the rain splattering on the fire escape. He looked at the clock after he turned on a lamp. Nine o'clock.
He took a vitamin pill and put his dick back inside his pants and went out to take a walk down to the park. It was drizzling, but after all, he had an umbrella and it was hell to be in that apartment alone. At least there were a few people outside.
He didn't eat at the Galleria, but instead went to the Hot Bagel, a place that overcharged for a delicious burger and french fries with lettuce and tomatoes.
Feeling lonely, he ordered the specialty and sat back in the near-empty restaurant to watch the rain fall outside. The water made him think of pussy, wet pussy. It also made him want to go the bathroom.
Sitting on the toilet seat with his pants down and his huge limp cock brushing the porcelain he vowed that he would have fun in some pale little girls buttocks before he keeled over of old age. He owed it to himself and he knew that his wife would want him to have a good time.
He thought momentarily about the statutory rape laws as he wiped himself with the toilet tissue, but he shrugged them off; pussy is best when it is youngest, everybody knew that. There were risks in fucking twelve-year-olds, but there was also reward, reward far outweighing the risk.
He needed it; had to have it, he determined, pulling up his pants, zipping and buckling his belt. After all, aren't I in the ideal position for a potential pedophile?
He flushed the brown stuff down and went back to his table, where the burger rare awaited him. On a second thought he ordered a beer, to celebrate his liberation, to celebrate his conviction that he would have tender Debbie's ass before the week was out.
He drank up. He smiled. The rain had stopped outside, and as he walked back to the house, he felt good for the first time in ages.
As Arthur drifted off to sleep, he once again began thinking of Debbie. Black hair, long and straight. Wide marshmallowy pink lips, green eyes and a pug nose with a trace of freckles. She was about five foot two-not bad for someone her age. She was slim, and there were fairly large boobs on the kid too.
He knew that Debbie had a small patch of tender cunt fuzz. He had seen it in the daylight streaming through the schoolhouse window, seen it under her short skirt, behind the transparent pinkness of the pantyhose crotch, that baggy arc between the legs, all lit up like a rose in bloom.
His dick hardened and the forty-year-old man had the first wet dream in over a year. He dreamed that naked busty Mrs. Rigatta whipped the ass of the tied and spread-eagled raven-haired girl and that he put his trembling blue-veined member into the delicate mucous membranes of the girl's unbroken hymen and forced himself in.
The next day at school he was cheery, though again he found himself unable to stand, for his dork was like a metal pipe inside his tweed pants, and to stand would have blown his whole image.
He saw that Debbie was wearing a little rouge and lipstick and opening the blinds wide to again have the sunlight stream in, he saw that slouched girl again wore no undies. She sat like a tramp, like a prostitute with a huge backlog of orders sits waiting for the doorbell.
I want to put it into her this instant, but I must wait. His thoughts raced and after class he called her to him and said he had an Honors assignment for the girl, complimenting her on her fine looks also.
"Are you wearing make-up?" he queried.
She lowered her eyes and confessed hesitantly that she always wore make-up whenever her mother was called out of town.
"Then you are all alone in your apartment?"
"Except for the maid; and she goes out a lot. I think she has a boyfriend."
"Then perhaps I will come to your house to give you your assignment this evening; I have your address."
"Please do, Mr. Rosen," smiled the pink-cheeked nubile girl, "I am SO lonely at night."
He watched her swing her taut, high ass out the door with a little too much emphasis on the hip movements not to be a put up deal. Are those spread legs without panties an invitation, wondered the male teacher.
Could the girl already be non-virgin? It seemed highly un-likely that someone her age could already have such experience, but she had handled his suggestive double-entendre with a cool beyond her years....
Tonight I will take her in her pussy; I don't care if I have to FORCE her or whether she will cooperate. I must have her thirteen-year-old pussy!
As Arthur studied his roll book, his big dick pounded at his zipper. It wanted action, and he was tired of just rubbing it! It would have action in a matter of hours, if only the maid was out....
Well, the maid was out, and Arthur, his forty years of age hanging on him with the weight of the sword of Damocles, threatening his sexual adventure, sat on the couch in Debbie's elegant apartment. She was nuzzled almost at his side and he felt his cock so stiff that he was afraid to stand and rip his pants.
She gave him some life-savers to suck on and he watched as she sucked on hers, thinking evil things.
The assignment was on the cushion, ignored as the two looked at each other, saying inconsequential things about school and homework.
Arthur was mad at himself; mad that he wanted her and was alone with her, yet he didn't dare touch her.
"Would you like a drink?"
He muttered no.
"Mind if I have one?"
He didn't say anything as the slinky nymph, dressed in a low-bodiced black tafetta, revealing her long slim legs in black panty hose, poured herself a Scotch on the rocks and downed it in one big gulp.
Then she leaned against him and as he closed his eyes he felt her breast pressing braless under her flimsy material, against his suit. Then he felt her barely trembling soft lips touch his.
He pushed her over, mounted her on the couch and began convulsively moving his weighty hips on the young girl's crotch.
"Hold it; don't you think we had better get undressed? My ma paid a hundred bucks for this dress, and I don't want to get it torn!"
The girl pushed him up and as he watched stupefied, she reached her arms behind her and unzipped. As she did he pinched her exposed breast and she screamed. Her black dress fell away as she stood and she stepped from it with her body naked except for the semi-opaque black pantyhose.
"Mind if I keep these on? Man, you hurt me!"
He minded, but he said nothing. He stared at the round firm and upturned knockers and at the girl's slim waist.
"I think maybe you do mind," the girl concluded and doing a slow gyration like a mad top on the floor, slinked out of her last remaining obstacle.
Arthur unzipped and his swollen throbbing pole was helped out of his fly by the eager cold little hands of his thirteen-year-old pupil.
"The door is locked," she said as she threw herself down on the couch and opened the legs wide. "Please fuck me in the rectum because I am not at the right time of the month and the doctor wouldn't give me pills."
He did it. He put his enourmous cock head to her rear crack and pulled her ass cheeks open to ease his tightly contested entrance to her bowels as she groaned.
"That's it, teacher, you are doing just fine."
"Are you sure...."
"Yes! I haven't done this before, but I love it!"
All of a sudden he felt guilty. He felt guilty as his member slammed in and out as he crushed the reared-up nymph's buttocks under his heaving penetrations. Shit spurted out and covered the front of his pants.
"Faster! Harder!"
There is nothing like a thirteen-year-old girl, except a twelve-year-old girl. They are so lovely, so fresh, so soft....
Gasping, the teacher started smacking the girl pinned under him on her back.
"Hey! What's the big idea! Stop hitting me!"
The protest brought him to ejaculation and he spewed forth the sperm into her quivering buttocks in mighty poundings while she writhed and groaned, drooling on the cushions. Such a little girl....
Then, when he pulled out, he immediately put her onto his shit-covered lap and with his wet limp dick being tickled by her furry crotch, he proceeded to spank her.
"Hey! What the, Ow! ... what the fuck do you think you are doing!"
"You did a bad thing!" he shouted.
"Stop! My ass hurts."
"No, I must punish you!"
She began liking it; her pussy was growing warm, and as he whacked her juvenile ass to a trembling redness, she groaned and kicked her legs and cried for him to stop. Although she protested, he noticed a certain wetness against his dick that was not his wetness, and he continued to spank the perfect ass.
After he put her moaning on the bed and took her in her spanked ass once again with his re-energized forty-year-old dick, she told him that she hoped he would spank her all the times that she was naughty and as he kissed her, he swore that he would do so.
"Sit up facing me!"
"Why?"
"I am going to smack your tits!"
"Oh, I don't...." she started to protest but he just put her into position on her mother's bed and started slapping her tits till they were pink and red with finger marks while her little green eyes rolled in sexual ecstasy and while she diddled herself in her cunt, being sure to please her own clit.
"MORE! HARDER, TEACHER! I am a bad girl. I have permitted you to fuck me twice up the ass, and I must be tit-whacked all night!"
Her pussy lips, those tender buds, were swollen and her fingers worked the heavy night shift in her hotel of pleasure.
"I will slap the shit out of your upturned firm tits, Deboie, for I want to hurt you for making me fuck your ass to shit. Look at the stains on my clothing!"
"Hit me, hit me! I will lick your pants front clean of the dirty stuff if you hit my tits hard enough. I have to have the PAIN to come. I always have needed discipline. My father is dead, and I need a man to train me to be good!"
"I want to fuck your pussy," said the history teacher. Every day since you started cock-teasing me in the class with your bare cunt staring me in the face I wanted you. Now I must fuck your pussy!"
"Have you a condom?"
"Yes."
"Lubricated?"
"Yes!"
"I have never been fucked in my pussy. I am a virgin up front."
"Well, in a moment, you cunt, you will be penetrated by the biggest prick in the history department!"
He shoved her down on her back and as she wildly fought for her wedding prize to be kept intact, the man whose dick stood out like a flag pole from his open fly, spread her.
Arthur realized that it was rape, pure rape, once his cock head had burst the girl's sex. He didn't remember putting on the condom!
He felt the dick imbedded in the crying girl. He had the thing on, thank heavens.
"What have you done to my beautiful pussy! It hurts, stop!"
When she said it hurt it was like an excitement to his prick, encased in the prophylactic bag, to slam in and out of the screaming little girl's spread-wide entrance with added violence. He wanted it to hurt, it SHOULD hurt awfully when a virgin is opened for all time. It must hurt or a virgin will grow up thinking that sex is without pain.
Arthur bit the little slut's lips and then forced his tongue into her sweet mouth, finding the remnants of bubble gum inside her lips.
"Spit out your gum bitch!"
She did, and as he continued to take her in her mad, warm and tight little prize, she began kissing him in earnest.
"Hurt me! Hurt me more! Pinch my breasts, I like the pain in my cunt. I hope it is always like this!"
Arthur had hurt his wife, hurt her because she wanted to be hurt. It gives a girl pleasure to be hurt while she has sex, it gives her better orgasms. As Arthur pinched the naked slim girl's breasts he listened to her groan and scream and he pumped away in her, the bag making some of the sensation from her convoluted vagina difficult to feel. It is better but less safe without a condom.
This early-teenage girl was like his wife: she wanted a fair amount of pain while she got it; she wanted to have her nipples pinched and her ass slapped. Good.
"I am bad-punish me teacher!"
He did, beating her up on her hard-ripening breasts, and when he had come in the bag, he made her empty the contents of it into her mouth like soda from a plastic bottle and SWALLOW!
He helped her dress. He went home. The maid would come back and sleep over, so he had to go.
"When will I see you again?"
She smiled at the door, holding it open enough to tell him that perhaps they could do it the next day at his place.
On the way down in the elevator the operator mentioned that he must have spilled some food on his pants front. He reddened. The whole area was wet still from her pussy and ass juice. Embarrassed, he bought the New York Post at the corner newstand and held it over his trouser front as he hailed a cab.
That night he jacked himself off thinking about the other girls in the class, and about how tight their virgin pussies would be impaled on his forty-year-old dick.
He kept Debbie after school the next day, pulling her pantyhose down off her buttocks to give her another spanking for being bad.
Then he was brash enough to hail a cab for the pussy-eager girl and himself right outside the school.
He took her to his house, and the super saw him go into the building with her. He was so horny all he could think of was putting on his condom and ramming it into the girl's front orifice, that juicy, dick-tightening hole.
He was happy as he again spanked the shit out of his pupil, causing tears to drip from her beautiful eyes, calling her a whore and a scum-swallowing cunt.
"Please call me more names when you put it in," the naked and spread girl said. She looked pale, like a victim on his bed. She was afraid too, when he tied her spread-eagled on the bed the way he always tied his wife.
"I want you to be unable to resist, that's why you must be tied open."
"But I wouldn't resist!"
"When you saw the strap, you might close up."
"The strap?"
"Yes. I am going to make your inner thighs black-and-blue up to your busted pussy hole, Debbie darling."
"No. PLEASE!"
The girl struggled and as she screamed he gagged her so nosy neighbors wouldn't come to the door. Then he took off his wide black belt, wound it a few times about his fist, and as the girl jerked her ankles and wrists, he beat her with the belt. Arthur beat her naked pale thighs until tears streamed and swarmed down her sweet face.
Then he put the cock prophylactic on and this time he took off all his clothing. Debbie had never seen a naked teacher before.
He gave it to her up her seeking, squirming pussy. He made all the pain from the belt worthwhile, and he shot sperm into the plastic bag inside the girl's recently excavated hole.
He took the gag off her and as she lay there helplessly spread wide, he bit her tits while she told him that she loved him and that she was glad he had tied her up. She said she never would have allowed the belt to be used on her things otherwise. She said being whipped felt good if it ended in sex.
"I love you too, he said as he bent down to kiss her tiny navel. I want to make you my sex slave. I want you every day!"
"And you shall have me; but we must not let my mother know!"
Arthur untied the skinny nymph, turned her over, spread her and removed the condom and took her in her raw red rectum, spanking her afterwards on his lap, as he sat on the side of the bed.
He did love Debbie, but he also wanted Mrs.
Rigatta. He decided to use his new confidence to proposition the sexy stacked broad. She was so different from Debbie, she had size thirty-nine breasts at least. Debbie was barely coming along up front. Variety is the spice of life. He dreamed of having them both, of having Debbie help him beat the strapped down slut of a teacher and help him hurt her big big tits.
School, never a pleasure, became a real drag for Arthur. All he wanted to do was fuck the girl in the first row, who constantly gave him winks as he lectured, and who slouched so that her steaming cunt was visible in the window light.
When he walked out of school, there was Mrs. Rigatta, wiggling her big round super-ass under her tight skirt. It was too much!
Arthur became aware that he had gone SEX MAD. Sex was all he thought of, those years without sex were egging him on into new sexual adventure. He wanted Millie, the girl in the second row too, and he wanted the redheaded English teacher.
As a matter-of-fact, he wanted to fuck every juicy pussy in the world. To fuck and hurt them like he did Debbie's beautiful body every day after school, was what he wanted.
That day, he didn't have Debbie because she had to meet her mother and go to Gimbel's to shop.
He ran after Mrs. Rigatta and boarded her bus, lamely explaining as they strap-hung on the crowded vehicle that he had to go that way to pick something up from a store.
Actually, he DID have to go uptown to buy some more rope to tie Debbie, and some handcuffs and ankle shackles, for the pain-loving nymphet. It would be a surprise, the new bindings, and the new whip would be her present that week.
He came on to Mrs. Rigatta, asking her if she would like to stop off and shop with him, and she agreed to go with him to the store and then to his house for dinner. No mention was made of her worm-like husband. Let him wait, smiled the redhead to herself. Let him diddle himself, because I would rather be with this handsome history teacher.
She was amazed and pleased when she saw what he was purchasing, and she admitted that she too likes such things as ropes and whips and chains, and that it was good to use them during sex.
"Perhaps we could try these tonight," he smirked.
"Why not? On you or me?"
Arthur hadn't thought about that. He assumed that he would tie her. ... but the reversal was intriguing, and he said, "Why, we will take turns, if that's all right."
She agreed, and they took the horny sexual purchases to his house, to use on each other. Arthur couldn't get over his good luck of late. He had Debbie, and he was about to get Mrs. Rigatta in his place and tie and abuse her SEXUALLY. She was so big, so firm all over, so wiggly....
Getting what he wanted confirmed the old adage that if you know what you want and you ask for it, you get it.
Very few people know what they want, and even fewer really go after it. Going after what you want is the secret to success, the secret that Arthur rediscovered. The world is full of pussy that wants to be hurt, you have to go get it! Mrs. Rigatta took off her clothes in front of the full length dressing mirror and surveyed her body while Arthur panted and stripped. She was damned big, three times the size of the equipment on Debbie....
She pulled a dildo and a long whip from her overnight bag and held them as she stared.
"How do you want it, Arthur; you want to be tied?"
Arthur, still clothed, said "How about me tying you?"
"Hmmmm. I think we have a problem here. I would rather tie you."
"I see. Well, maybe we could, that is...." he stuttered.
"How about me spanking you?"
"I was thinking that I would spank you!"
It was obvious that there was a big problem.
"What can we do? We both want to punish the other!"
"Perhaps we should just fuck?"
"That's okay with me if it is okay with you."
It was done. Arthur, his gaunt body stripped as naked as the redheaded English teacher's, mounted her, and without the mandatory condom he had to use on little Debbie, he got his penis-jollies inside her.
"Oh, that feels so good," groaned the hip-twisting woman with his big peter up her vagina. "You are so much bigger than my crummy husband."
"Why do you stay with him?"
"Well," she said as the man pumped, "I need someone to dominate. If I found someone like you to tie and whip, and to have lick my feet like he does, then I would leave. But I haven't. Push harder! FASTER!"
Arthur didn't even hear the last thing the enormously endowed woman said. His steamed dork was deep in her long canal, bumping her womb like a carrot striking a turnip at every plunge into her soft flesh.
"That's it!" she yelled, and as he drove in and out, in and out, she massaged her clit with her two fingers, the thumb and index ones, rocking and groaning.
The bed collapsed under them as Arthur screamed "Motherfucker!" and they came simultaneously, her legs tight about him, seeking his earnest juice.
CHAPTER TWO
The two teachers hit upon a good idea, a sort of trade that depended upon Debbie. Arthur talked a lot after his release in Mrs. Rigatta's cunt. He told her about his thirteen-year-old lover and about spanking and belt-whipping the sexy little, masochistic girl.
Rose said that she would come to the house often and let Arthur fuck her front and rear any time, provided that she too could abuse Debbie.
Mr. Rosen, his face ashen, at first denied the possibility Of turning the girl over to the redhead for punishment. Then he thought about it a little. Perhaps it would be good to watch the girl get a solid thrashing from the naked English instructor. Perhaps....
"Well, if you decide, my phone number is in the directory." Dressed, the busty woman left him alone, naked in his bed. He had liked fucking the huge bitch as much as he liked to punish and fuck tiny Debbie. To have them both.
That night, about midnight, Arthur made up his mind to accept the size thirty-nine woman's offer. He picked up the receiver and dialed her.
The redhead had her weak husband tied awkwardly with his legs twisted on the rocking chair. She was giving his balls a beating with the bristles of a brush. She heard the phone ring. It was Arthur.
"Hi Art!"
"Hello, Rose?"
"Yeah."
"Can you talk?"
"Of course! My husband is all tied up, and gagged for that matter, right now."
"Well, I have decided to accept your offer. You move in and fuck with me all the time and I will let you do things to Debbie."
"What things?"
"Punish her with straps, tied her, spank her-the works. Provided of course, she can be persuaded."
"If she doesn't like it, we can do it anyway."
"Yeah but...."
"But nothing. That girl had told you too much about her sexual desires for boy's cock-you know, up the ass-to tell on us. We could tell her mother how bad she has been."
"I suppose."
"Then I will look forward to beating Debbie at your pad after school tomorrow. By the way, pick up a French tickler."
"Okay, until tomorrow."
The history instructor was madly beating his meat while he spoke to Mrs. Rigatta on the phone. He came as he hung up the receiver with his left hand, splashing on the bedsheet. Man! To have Rose and Debbie! Tomorrow, tomorrow....
After school, he took Debbie in a cab to his apartment, tied her down and waited.
The diminutive raven-haired girl grew impatient. "Hurry up. Aren't you going to beat me?"
"No. I have taken the liberty of inviting Mrs. Rigatta over to beat you."
"Are you crazy? That bitch?"
"Yes. She thinks that you are a nice piece and has expressed a wish to hurt you in front of me."
"What do I have to say about it?"
"Nothing, Debbie dear. You are my sex-slave."
"Well, she is some stacked piece herself. I have her for English. Do you think she will want me to eat her? I hope not!"
"Noj she is mostly heterosexual, my naked, spread lovely. After she beats you, I will fuck the both of you!"
"Can I watch you fuck her up the ass?"
"Sure."
"I sure hope she knows how to hurt me like you do!"
"Well I know she does it to her husband."
"Good. I don't like amateurs. I want to get hit the way you do it, on the thighs, backside, breasts and cheeks."
"I will tell her. She tells me she has a special outfit she wears."
"Wow! You mean busty Mrs. Rigatta has a rubber suit and boots and a bra that makes her boobs jut out?"
"I suppose, I haven't seen it." He noticed that the girl's pussy-lips were all inflamed and swollen. He tickled them and she squirmed in her ropes.
"Don't! I can't stand to be tickled." So he tickled her all over, setting her gasping in convulsions, while he waited for the knock at the door.
Rose wasn't late. She immediately stripped down to her stockings of black and red garter-belt. Then she took out a big metal bra with holes for her tit ends in the cups. She put it on her enormous tits. The chromium metal gleamed.
Her crotch was shaven bare as a babe's, revealing her ample cunt lips.
Arthur noticed that she had shaven well. Not a trace of the reddish tangle remained between her thighs. He also noticed that there was red rouge on her protruding nipples. And there was a whip in her hands....
Debbie, pussy-wet, spread-eagled and tied, was ready for the whip. She begged for the strict disciplinarian to punish her. She told the woman that she had cheated on an English exam to enrage her. It did enrage her.
Soon the gentle face of the young girl was red with slaps. She watched as the woman, cursing and her pussy sprinkling come, stepped back and let the girl have it on her white thighs. Deb screamed, but her male master cupped his hands over the girl's mouth while Rose beat her repeatedly with the knotted lash.
When her urge to hurt was over, Rose ordered Arthur to take her, right there, while she knelt over the naked, spread thirteen-year-old girl.
Thus it was that the rebuilt bed again collapsed.
Arthur had taken the redheaded bare-crotched bitch with his dork as she kissed madly with Debbie on the bed. His heaving into her rectum was too much for the old bed, and it again resoundingly collapsed.
There was a knock at the door while he was coming in the ass of the woman. He didn't answer, but the downstairs neighbor's voice told him to be more quiet.
Debbie's clit was being amused by Mrs. Rigatta's probing long fingers, amused so that the little girl's come splashed.
Everybody seemed happy with the arrangement. Debbie, who was beaten by the man and then raped up her ass while Mrs. Rigatta spread her wide, was doubly happy. The more pain, the more entries and manipulations her lower body had, the better Deb felt.
"My daddy used to do it to me. Up the ass. That was one of the things that my mother didn't like about him. He liked me better than he liked her. She told him a lot of times that she wouldn't live with him if he kept balling my ass, and she didn't.
"That's how," said the bound girl, "I got to liking having it in my rear. How did you get to like it that way, Mrs. Rigatta?"
"Call me Rose, dear. I got it in the rear for the first time from the grocery boy who delivered groceries to our door. I was about your age. He was pretty nice, but I was afraid of pregnancy.
"He said he would like it just as much in my behind, and I didn't mind. When I saw his lovely big hairy prick I had begged for him to enter me. He spread me on my stomach on my mother's bed and penetrated me. That was the first time. The first time I was fucked.
"Of course, when I started dating I got it in the front too, but I never had any prejudice against my big round ass either."
Arthur was so inflamed by Rose and her talk that he grabbed the whip and beat the woman's ass. Then he forced the woman to rub off the girl while they both objected.
Then he shoved his dick SANS condom, into the tied and spread teenager and came in several baby-making spurts while she cried. Rose tried to pull him out of the girl's quim by the balls.
Of course, he regretted that. It almost busted the three of them up. But he promised not to do it in the front hole of the young girl again without protection. They agreed to have sex together every day, all three of them.
Arthur watched as Debbie dressed her bruised body and walked limping out the door. Her front and rear apertures were oozing sperm, he knew. He wished she could stay the way Mrs. Rigatta was going to stay....
Together that night for the first time, Mrs. Rigatta and Mr. Rosen combined their curriculums. He wanted to slap the shit out of her, but she insisted that he be tied with his hands behind his back if he wanted her. She let him into her bare wet cunt when he let her tie him. Then she mounted him, and, slapping him and cursing him, she rode on his hairy and veined dork like a cowboy impaled on the horn of a saddle. He was pinned, helpless. The woman took her time coming.
She had slipped the French tickler over his erection just before mounting him for maximum stimulation. She meant her stimulation of course. She wanted to slap Arthur and to keep him erect. Otherwise, she didn't give a damn what the bound and gagged man thought, or whether he had pleasure or not.
Arthur found himself like her husband had been, under the big bitch stimulating her and being used by her for sex-fun. It humiliated him, but it was the price he paid to fuck her. He had to fuck her, he needed her huge, sexy body, like he needed Debbie.
He went to sleep that night with his hands still bound behind his back. The redhead, dominating men being her pleasure, refused to untie him. She said he would have to kiss her feet in the morning and maybe something else also if he wished not to be punished.
Arthur refused to kiss her feet or her thighs the next day. She made him kneel before her with one stroke of the whip.
As he cringed, already frightened by the whip, she said he was going to get it up the ass. He did, as she produced a huge strap-on dildo from her valise and took him in his rectum with the device. Then he had to kiss her feet anyway.
That day she attached a padlock around his sac before he went off to school with her. He didn't know the combination, so the chaffing weighty thing was attached until he returned with her and Debbie that evening. He fucked the spread-wide little black-haired teen in her rectum with the lock on his balls banging against her quim.
When he kissed the redhead's feet in front of the little girl, Rose unlocked the lock, making sure that he didn't see the combination. "You will wear this heavy padlock around your ball sac every day until you learn respect!"
He soon learned that it hurt a lot less to kiss Rose's feet and clean between her toes with his tongue than to be ball imprisoned all day inside his underpants.
Debbie found out this way who was the real boss, and soon she was punishing and training Arthur with the aid of Rose.
"Men must learn respect, they must be degraded!" taught Rose. Her huge watermelon breasts heaved as she rammed a dildo up the bent-over man's asscrack.
"I see! Let me fuck him!" The little girl was learning fast.
In the following days Arthur found his little world turning around. He was now the females' slave. Now he did as they asked and was bound and slapped as often as he bound and slapped Debbie. He wondered how it had happened.
Could it be, he wondered, that I wanted to be dominated by the females all along? Could I be both a sadist and a masochist?
Whatever was happening, it was pleasant as well as disturbing, and at least his penis had warm company in the off hours. That's what he figured, he figured that as long as he liked it, as long as he had poon to fuck and as long as he wasn't maimed, it was okay.
Debbie suddenly suggested something as he was fucking her tied body up the ass one day. While he fucked and the big redhead whipped his ass, cute little Debbie suggested that they get Mildred, the blonde girl, to join their sex and pain trysts.
"Would she like it? She look so innocent!" Arthur said between ouches.
"Man, she would love it!" Debbie seemed certain.
"It might be a good idea. From the scuttlebutt among the teachers," said the redhead, "it is likely that Millie is using drugs. A little dab of sex now and then might get her away from her bad habit. I always have preferred sex to drugs. But then again, I have a large clit....
"Millie's clit is large too!" Debbie obviously knew something they didn't know about Millie's sex parts.
Arthur certainly didn't object to the possibility of getting another young girl to ass-fuck and tit-bite.
It was all for, none against, when they voted. Millie was to be included in their expanding little party of pleasure and pain.
The next day, as Arthur recited the history of the Napoleonic invasion of Europe, he watched the little blonde in the row behind Debbie.
Millie was even smaller and more child-like than Debbie and he wondered how much of a set of breasts such a tot could have and whether she had even a few blonde crotch hairs.
He began feeling like a lecher. After all, weren't forty-year-old men that slam their pricks up twelve-and thirteen-year-old girls' holes letches?
He felt that his passion was animal like, and that his dork was too urgent in its call to fornicate the child. In short, he felt guilty.
Debbie managed to get Millie, whose curvaceous little body made Arthur slaver in the cab, to go with the trio after school. He saw that under the flimsy little pinafore there were skimpy impressions of her braless set of nipples.
The suggestive bumps on Millie's chest made him continue the ride with clenched jaw and a rigid dork. He closed his eyes and imagined that his member was in her buttery petite thighs, and that his thick weapon pushed into Millie's frantic, rippling, juggling, bucking, writhing cervix.
He knew that the minute the twelve-year-old was tied and spread, he would demand satisfaction. Luckily, he had some scum bags. They had decided that the girl wouldn't tell on them because they knew that she was taking drugs.
With a lascivious grin on his reddened face, Arthur turned the key in his apartment latch and the rubbery secret of the blonde child wiggled through and into his living room.
"You said there would be a party? But there are no people here Deb...."
"Well, we are all here now," smiled the raven-haired seductress, "and we will have the best time you ever could imagine."
"What are all those chains and whips and things on the bed?"
Mrs. Rigatta had enormous boobs like ripe cantaloupes hanging in a drape, the tops of them exposed for attraction purposes. She just picked the girl up and chained her with her legs spread while Millie shouted.
The sight of the girl having her clothes removed and her mouth gagged made Arthur's mouth water.
He was glad that Rose hadn't wasted any time. The tougher you treat the little sub-teen bitches the better they like it!
He dropped his pants to the floor and as the wide-eyed little spread girl stared, he placed the lubricated condom on his engorged twat-render.
Debbie spread the girl's pussy lips and peered inside.
"Pretty tight, just like the last time I saw it at the intersession party. She and I made out a little in the John. She had drunk gin then. She is okay, she really can kiss up a storm!"
The tantalizingly open and nearly bare pussy of the blonde youngling, these little hard globular breasts, the stiff pink nipples, her slender pale stomach, all made naked Arthur's sheathed dick a throbbing demonic instrument of the girl's deflowering.
He would have put it in, but Rose insisted that the pale girl's thighs needed reddening with the strap. She beat the child first, brutally, as if Millie were an escaped and recaptured prisoner.
Then his cock head was poised at Millie's writhing, mesmerizing vaginal entrance, about to buck into her. He bit her left tit and pushed in just past the tiny body's cunt lips.
Fear was on Millie's little soft face. Her delicate throat throbbed as her heart fluttered. This was to be the end of her virginity, she knew it!
The lubricated dork rammed in, and the girl convulsed. Her hips twisted and his outsized peter savagely beat against her untouched womb. Her exquisite thighs tensed and relaxed. It was done.
Frantically seeking release, the sex-mad history professor beat into and out of the tiny blonde's spongy twat lips, his hot rain begging to be spilled at her baby-maker.
Into every nook and cranny of her tightly protesting torn canal he plunged, carrying his lurid attack to her insides to ecstatic heights of stimulation.
The glorious feeling of coming in the no-longer virginal twelve-year-old made him heave and gasp. Sperm shot forth into the buried condom receptacle. He stabbed between her legs like a sex-murderer, determined to do utmost damage in as short a time as possible.
Tears streamed down her gentle sensuous face, her angel's countenance, her child's visage.
He had ruined her, ruined her good. And when he finished, he whipped her with the braided whip, cutting long red slashes across her wet thighs, those super stretched out little walkers of the four foot ten girl.
He saw that she was screaming into the gag, screaming for her lost virginity and because of the intense pain from the lashings by her instructor.
His engorged dick had become soft, even as he pounded her desirous white legs with the lash. He had a bulging lake of scum trapped in the tip of the scumbag. He went to the toilet and pulled off the protective device and dropped it in the bowl.
He wished to hell they gave twelve-year-olds pills or injections not to get pregnant. He didn't like fucking with a bag on!
The labor of his love was not lost on the tiny child. When she was untied, she embraced and kissed him and begged for more punishment. He gave it to her too, as she bent over the chair.
His dork was lively again. So without further ado, he penetrated her rear aperture and raked his cock head around in her bowels. Turd splashed as he bounced forward and back until a fountain of uninterrupted fury burst forth in her clammy anus.
His scorching climax in her gave her an orgasm, for as he pulverized her rear, Rose had rubbed the child's clit to exhilaration. His and her culminations occurred simultaneously and she was heard to utter, "Shit! That's better than heroin!"
Arthur felt good that he had persuaded a child to forego the use of drugs. He felt noble, responsible.
He slipped his fagged dick from her shit-splattered rear and kicked her so that she fell to the floor groaning. Debbie had yet to use the tender bitch, he remembered.
"Up, you slimy prostitute!" Debbie yelled.
"Me?"
"Yes you, Millie. Do you think you are better than me because you are blonde?"
"No."
"Liar!" Debbie slapped the girl's face, causing a radiant smile to burst forth on Millie's countenance.
Now Millie knew that they too were to play a pain land sex game. Millie was all for it. She hoped that Debbie would hurt and force her like Mr. Rosen and Mrs. Rigatta had done.
Orgy-intense Debbie wanted to do something the others hadn't done. She tied Millie spread on the bed, but sitting. Her neck was firmly roped to one headpost, her ankle ropes tracing over to the foot of the bed, to the other posts.
Then, as the girl screamed and Rose put the gag on her, Debbie shoved a bristle brush up Millie's vagina. She twisted its bristly end around and around in the wet pussy. That made the luscious child's pink face explode into tears. It must have hurt a lot. Her delicate mucous membranes, engaged and inflamed by Arthur, now were tortured by the steel bristles of the hair brush. It was so wide a brush for so small a person....
Millie didn't want her little come-box hurt anymore. What she really wanted was to have her breasts abused. She liked pain because it made her feel pleasure without guilt.
If she was being punished while being pleased, then she could enjoy without guilt. It is much the same with most girls and also with older women if they happen to be inexperienced or prudish.
Women were born to be hurt. They feel horrible pain in childbirth and when they are deflowered. They feel pain when their men do the natural things to them-beat their asses or twist and squeeze their breasts.
So women are creatures of pain. Unfortunately most women go through life not accepting their roles. Women want only pleasure, not realizing that pleasure can only come to them through pain.
Rose understood this. She understood, as Debbie now did, that a female must learn to accept, to welcome sex-pain.
Millie, diminutive-breasted Millie, her child-like features covered with tears, was learning a lesson that would make her happy with pain for the rest of her life. The brush tore around in her insides. Small Debbie leered and occasionally bit her victim.
Rose and Arthur were masturbating as they watched the sex-spectacular.
It is not every day that you see two naked sensuous child-like females, one working the other's pussy over with a steel-bristled hairbrush. Arthur would remember that awesomely sensual sight all his life. He would never forget the pain and anguish on the face of the blonde cherubic Millie.
Rose was touched, but also her cunt was burning feverishly for penetration. She desired Debbie to strap on a dildo and do it to her big body.
For Debbie to fuck big Rose with the plastic dong was like an ant attacking a spider. They were that far apart in size. But Debbie had powerful hips and Rose could really spread.
Roses's rippling thighs and undulating cervix were soon under the energetic raven-haired child's body, receiving the dildo.
Arthur was being beaten at that moment by the vengeful untied blonde child with a whip. He was spread-eagled and the girl did not spare his balls and dork from her lust-whipping.
Then, while Rose was coming under Debbie's penetrating presence, Arthur's dick hardened, like a pre-stressed concrete pole.
His dork was surrounded by Millie's little rectum. The girl sat on him and began to slap his face while she lowered and raised herself.
That was all the titillation that the watching English teacher needed to gush her woman-come around the plastic dork's huge imbedded tenseness.
Debbie slapped the girl's face, taking a cue from the blonde child. Thus it was that both adults were being sexually molested and punished by the children they themselves had abused.
Exhausted, the four trysting sado-masochists lay around for an hour savoring their wounds and sex-warmth. Then they went out to the movies. That was fun too. Especially in the dark balcony, where flying, penetrating fingers disturbed the sex organs of all four of them.
The dizzying sexual assaults of the evening and the sex-action film they saw in the movie gave them little energy to go to class the next day. Rose and Arthur took Debbie and Millie to their houses about ten p.m. They gave the kids notes saying that they had been doing special honor assignments for the two teachers.
The next day, the two girls stared knowingly into the history teacher's face. There was a smirk on his face too. It was the smirk of a happy man.
What other forty-year-old widower in New York City could say that he balled two children and a redheaded busty lush, all beautiful, the night before?
The girls showed him their new bruises that evening, and they were proud of them.
The two nymphets stood before the wide full-length mirror in Mr. Rosen's apartment and inspected their lovely curved bods and pretty freckled features.
"You are both pretty," said Rose, herself as naked as the two children. "I hope that you will enjoy your sexual activities this evening."
Debbie gave Rose a knowing, over the shoulder glance, indicating that she would like to put her cunt to Millie's lips.
"No!" shouted the naked man from the bed. "No oralism is allowed in this apartment. I won't permit it!"
Ever since his wife had died, he was against any form of oralism, no matter how much anyone wanted to perform it. There was no way that he could accept such deviant behavior in his own place; no way at all!
"Okay! Shit, I will just have to get my jollies some other way," Debbie muttered. "Through pain. Yes, through causing pain on Millie's little rouged breasts!"
Millie lowered her eyes and her hands moved to cover her suddenly chilly tit-ends. She knew she would love being breast slapped or whipped, yet she was afraid. Perhaps they would go too far; scar her forever....
Rose saw her fright and hugged her. "Don't be afraid. When we tie you and hurt you it is to give you pleasure as much as it is to give us pleasure. The sex thrill I get from watching you hurt or whipping you doesn't come from blood. It comes from inside, from a well of passion for a beautiful creature like yourself."
Millie was touched and she kissed the redhead's marshmallow lips. "Is everything okay now?" asked Rose.
Millie nodded yes to the redhead, and was escorted bare-footed to the bed by the teachers. There she willingly spread and was tied, open wide to any form of abuse they elected to treat her to.
"You are lovely, so nubile," gasped Arthur, his stem standing out like a hatrack in front of him. "I would like to be first to torture your delicate body. Is that okay?"
Redfaced and embarrassed as the forty-year-old man ogled her stretched out nude body, the tiny blonde child nodded that he may hurt her.
"Good, my child. Rose! Give me the tweezers!"
"The tweezers!" gasped the child.
"Gag this insufferable little cunt's mouth!"
Debbie did so.
"Now we will see if we can remove all those ugly cunt hairs forever. I hate to see children with cunt hairs. If I shave them off you," confided the man, "they will only grow back, but if I pull them out by the roots, then you will always look as clean as a child in your crotch!"
The girl was terrified, wild eyed and emphatically shaking her head to tell him to stop. He leeringly put the tweezer to her lightly haired pelvis.
He pulled the first blonde curly hair out and her whole body jerked in sexual agony.
"See," he held the tweezed hair up, "it didn't hurt a bit, did it?"
Then he bent to his task again, his face close to the blonde child's little tuft of pussy growth. He snagged another hair as his dick twitched madly, ready for action.
"Another!"
Rose was getting rubbed to hell by Debbie. The raven-haired thirteen-year-old naked lust-object knew how to do it. Debbie made the spread Rose groan on the carpet while one little pale hand probed and the other seized the big woman's clit and rubbed away.
Arthur wanted to hurt his child-victim. He ripped out several hairs at a single yank. She twisted and writhed but the seeking hand continued to rip hair after hair out of the youngster's cunt. Ripping the area without regard to the agony he was causing.
"Pretty soon it will look like you never had puberty. I like that look. I only wish you never had grown these hairs, then you could be spared the nuisance of their removal. But I know it doesn't hurt a bit to have hairs pulled out by the root. I know you are thankful to me.
There is nothing like torturing little girls, he thought, and he pulled the last blonde hair from its secure hold and beheld her bareness. He wanted it bad, and he could have it without asking.
She was his slave, his come-box. She was less than a person, she was like a place to put his penis and heave.
That's the way all females should be: sex slaves. They shouldn't be allowed to do anything but please men.
They are only happy as slaves, to be sexually abused.
No wonder so many women and men are unhappy today, he thought. Women have the wrong attitude.
It hurts both men and women that women have denied their essentially sexual nature.
He wondered if he could just slip it in just this once without a condom on. He wanted to feel that raw splashy pussy around his dick without the interfering plastic bag. Of course, it would be bad for a twelve-year-old to get pregnant, but what the hell, worry about that some other time....
He put it in without a bag and the girl bucked and heaved her juicy little buttery hips. She was twisting her pelvis around madly to uproot his tree. He let her have it good with a gasp that signalled the invasion of her womb by millions of seeking sperm cells.
His hot rain churned like a tidal wave around her vaginal desire cavern, and he squeezed her nipples purple to keep her moving while the last drops spilled into her.
"What have you done?" said an angry male voice behind him. He screamed in earnest as the English teacher seized his balls and pulled him out of the split-wide sperm-dripping little cunthole.
"You bastard! You might have gotten her pregnant! What would we do, you shit-headed lecher, if she did get pregnant? You know they would ask some embarrassing questions when this little bitch applied for an abortion. You know that they would want to know who gave her the kid, wouldn't they?"
Arthur knew nothing, nor cared about nothing except the hand tightly crushing his balls.
"Please. For mercy's sake, Rose, let go of my balls!"
She squeezed harder. "Yiiiiiiii!"
"That will teach you," she said, letting go. "Fuck a twelve-year-old pussy without a scum-bag, you miserable twerp. You disgusting worm!"
Arthur fell to the floor, rolling and holding his aching sac. He groaned even more when the stacked woman slammed a foot into his gut and called him a cunt-lapper.
But it got him mad, too!
"What? What did you say? Don't you ever! Don't you ever call me that." Arthur rose to his feet forgetting his pain in fury and smashed the redhead in the face.
"Furthermore," he fumed, "I know you are imbibing in the John. I saw that hip-flask you carry in your purse, and I would bet that you are dead drunk now, you scum-sucking whore, or else you wouldn't have pulled my balls!"
He slammed her with a clenched fist in the chin and again she collapsed to the bed.
"Please," she begged, her head between the sperm-dripping Millie's thighs, "no more!"
But Arthur took out all the rage on her that he felt for being born, and for being spanked as a child and for being alone as a child and for the time he broke his arm. He used her to get out all his shit, all his hatred of the world. He was a terrible master to the whimpering woman, smashing the shit out of her face, kicking her big swimming aids, elbowing her in the groin.
Debbie laughed, but tied up Millie cried, for her cunt hairs still hurt, and she didn't want a baby.
Arthur then fucked Mrs. Rigatta up the rectum with vigor, scratching her ass raw with his nails and cursing the lush.
When he was done, the redhead was bawling like an infant.
CHAPTER THREE
The four of them got a weird idea. It would soon be Halloween and they thought they could make use of that fact. They had become obsessed with the idea of having ALL the handsome little boys and girls from the exclusive school stripped and raped. They also had a good idea of their own, to bring fruition to their desires.
The idea was to have a Halloween party. The teachers at the school wouldn't think it was unusual for the nice Mr. Rosen to throw a party. Of course, Mrs. Rigatta would show up "unexpectedly" with a bizarre costume; a pair of black stockings, garter belt, frilled undies and cut-away bra; plus a long whip!
Arthur knew they had all gone sex-mad and that he would probably be arrested and sent for a vacation of some years making license plates for the state. But he didn't care. For once in his life he would be utterly happy. His passion for young children would be satisfied.
His dick stood at attention as Rose reviewed the plans. "First," she smiled, "we will make sure that only the pretty girls and a few handsome boys are invited. Then we will spike the candy with Spanish fly. Then we will get them to do it to each other at the party. Of course, we shall make suggestions and participate to our heart's content!"
"Fantastic!" uttered naked, thin Millie, her bare crotch alluringly open on the bed sheet.
"OUTASIGHT!" That was what Deb said.
"I think it might work," agreed the shaky man, "I hope we won't get busted while we are doing it, by the police!"
"Don't worry; this sort of thing goes on at all schools. The teachers are always raping and beating the kids. It never gets in the papers. It is only when kids rape and beat teachers that it gets reported." The redhead seemed to have some information that Mr. Rosen didn't have.
"Really?"
"Yes, Mr. Rosen, dear. Wake up! It's a sexual world. Children have absolutely no legal rights! They are powerless to accuse us, believe me. We could put them all away forever in reformatories for CARNAL ABUSE and PERVERSION!" She laughed, and soon the others chuckled and guffawed with her.
Could it be true, thought Arthur, could we actually get away with raping all the little girls and making the boys fuck them in the ass at our little party on Halloween?
Mention the word "party" and you have all the sub-teenage poontang that you can shake a dick at!
The kids liked the idea, to put it mildly. Each girl was invited individually and told that she should not spread it around. "Some kids I don't like aren't invited," Arthur said cruelly.
He really meant that anyone he didn't want to fuck up the ass wasn't invited among the girls. He also meant, but didn't say, that only two boys would be lucky enough to end their virginity inside Mrs. Rigatta's cunt while sex-mad on Spanish fly!
It was the plan of an evil group, and Mr. Rosen's group was EVIL. Evil and Halloween go good together, they had that in their favor at least. That and the aphrodisiac laced candies at the house....
On the list to attend the gala sex-affair were Anita Cohel, a dimuitive brown-haired brown-eyed girl of twelve with shapely thighs; Arthur Williams, a nice-looking blond lad with an English school boy haircut; Betty Tomlinson, a cute little freckled green-eyed girl with a lisp; Harry Morgenstem, a brown-haired brown-eyed tall kid of thirteen with a foul mouth but good looks; Tambi Wong-Fing, a delicious delicate little twelve-year-old smiling Chinese virgin; Loretta Mobley, a sexy, almost slutty-looking miniature replica of Mrs. Rigatta; Maria Hernando, a small girl, barely twelve, but brilliant, already skipped a grade-dark, shy and retiring, and last but far from least, Alberta Laird, the daughter of the UN ambassador and a rather sophisticated-looking blonde to be so young. Extremely thin with cat-like blue eyes and a trace of freckles-a most likely screamer!!
Of course, the regular gang would be there too.
At the end of the day he invited the two sexy little kids Deb and Millie, to his house. Mr. Rosen had such a huge stiffness in his pants that he feared to even walk to the taxi stand with the conspirators-Hhe children and Rose Rigatta.
"My mother wants to know how the assignments are going," chuckled Debbie in the cab.
"Tell her they are going fine, real fine," smiled the man sitting with her, an erection distorting his fly.
He wondered if the cabbie noticed in the rear view mirror when Millie reached over and pressed his dick reassuringly. Probably the hack driver didn't notice. Busty Mrs. Rigatta, wondering about her husband and what he was doing, sat in the right front seat.
Rose had plainly told her husband that she was leaving him to join a man and some little girls for sex fun. She told him that the worm had better find himself other distractions or masturbate!
Mrs. Rigatta was a pretty mean chick.
"It's all arranged-all the best ones are coming."
"You did a good job then, Arthur," smiled the redhead, turning from the front seat to talk. "I only hope we can get rid of the parents so we all can have a good time."
The cabbie asked if they were giving a party for the school kids.
"Yes," replied Rose.
"Darn nice of you teachers to do that. I can understand that you would rather have the parents over, but you are really nice to want to get rid of the parents so the kids can have fun."
They all smiled.
"Yes, Mr. Rosen and Mrs. Rigatta are very nice, warm teachers." Debbie Was pretty tongue-in-cheek to be so young.
Arthur hadn't credited Debbie with such evasive charm. She was like a twenty-year-old woman sometimes, a sophisticated one at that.
He made a mental note to remind himself to ram it up the intelligent girl's rectum the minute she was tied and stretched wide in the ropes.
He liked her, and liking a person makes sex better sometimes, especially sex with a thirteen-year-old tot like pretty-pussied Debbie.
When they entered Mr. Rosen's rope-strewn, messy apartment they wished that they had all been less careless with the furniture. One leg of the coffee table was cracked and there was a hole in the wall where Mr. Rosen had run toward Mrs. Rigatta, intending to impale her sex, but had missed.
"Shit motherfucker!" Mr. Rosen expressed the silent majority's sense. "This place is damned awfully fucked over!"
"Get some glue and fix the motherfucking table!" Rose tweaked the ear of her respondent, obedient little Millie, who removed her clothing before she tried to fix the coffee table leg.
Millie did a bad job and as a result, she found herself spread wide with the table leg jammed up her wet cunt. A scream was coming from her muffled lips.
"When I say fix something, I mean FIX it!" Mrs. Rigatta did the job herself, while Mr. Rosen took turns with Debbie twisting the huge table leg deep into the little blonde's vagina.
It was fun, but Mr. Rosen earnestly looked forward to the day when he could have Maria, Betty, Tambi, Loretta, Anita and Alberta strung in rope and at his dork's absolute trembling disposal.
What is one twelve-year-old cunt when you can have six?
The redhead stripped and disappeared into the bathroom with her pocketbook. Drinking again, frowned Mr. Rosen. The fucking scum-swallowing bitch is always drinking in the john!
It would be all right if she just drank a little, but the big watermelon-breasted broad wouldn't stop!
She emerged with the dildo strapped on and picked up the whip. "Undress, you slimy motherfucker!" she demanded of Arthur.
"What? Why you...." his swing at her was caught by Debbie, throwing the tot off balance, permitting a whipping from Mrs. Rigatta to commence on Arthur's accidentally presented ass.
"Ow! Cut that out."
"Get out of your clothes you miserable worm, or I will rip them off with the whip!" The redhead was all pink, flush in the face, having swallowed a fifth of vodka in the toilet room.
Nervously, Arthur undressed and his gaunt body was available for Debbie's frantic hand caresses.
As his stiffness rose, Mrs. Rigatta, angry, told Debbie to tie his hands behind his back. She held the whip up to stifle any potential protest. There was none.
"Kneel, worm," the whip-wielding woman ordered.
He refused.
"Why you degenerate lecherous cunt-lapping swine! You turd-swallowing excuse for a pussy-sucker! You twerpy worm-infested gonnorheaic male chauvinist pig! You no account perverse pedophiliac cradle-robber! You malignant syphillitic limp-cocked twat-twirler!" Rose uttered the longest string of drink-slurred invective he had ever encountered. She began to whip him about and on his stiff peter.
Soon the man fell whimpering on his knees before his huge naked mistress and begged for forgiveness.
She smiled but she told him that to be forgiven, he must toe-lick her and clean all the crud out between her red-nailed toes with his sticky tongue. She threatened to de-ball the fearful bum's lively dick unless he commenced immediately to lick her big, dirty feet.
He licked as if there were no tomorrow, struggling not to bang his nose on the carpet because he couldn't use his tied hands to support his leaning over.
"Not bad-but more!"
He licked between Rose's painted toe nails, swallowing every piece of crud he could find, hoping that she wouldn't be drunk enough to de-ball him anyway. There is not much employment available in the USA for eunuchs, he realized. In the Middle East it would be a different story. There, they would hire a de-balled man to guard harems....
Wham! she kicked him hard in the groin to speed his tongue between her greasy unclean toes. He did as best he could, but she drunkenly ordered him tied down and spread on the bed.
Debbie slashed away Mildred's bindings with a kitchen knife. Together they beat the shit out of the forty-year-old teacher with their fists and then secured him spread-eagle on the bedsheet.
"What are you all going to do to me?"
"Cut off your balls," said the black-haired child holding the steak knife.
"No!" yelled Rose as the knife approached the balls of the screaming, cringing man. "We shall hurt him, but we need his balls to spurt into our rectums and our cunts, right?"
Debbie reluctantly agreed and lowered the knife.
"Now," said Mrs. Rigatta, "we shall make you rue the day the doctor fished you from your mother's ruptured cunt and spanked your slimy body into breath!"
She took a broom with a long pole-like handle and shoved the fucking thing right into his asshole, at least a foot in. Shit splattered against the sheet and the wall.
"How's that?" smiled Mrs. Rigatta to the girls.
"Wow, you sure are a mean motherfucker!" admired Debbie.
"Thank you. Gag the slimy worm's tongue, will you?"
Mrs. Rigatta, holding the whip, was instantly obeyed. The man was now silent as well as helpless.
"Let's tie , his balls to a rope and play tug-of-war, girls. The two of you against me!"
Mrs. Rigatta, her big boobs bouncing merrily and arousing his peter, tied Mr. Rosen's ball sac in a slip knot. She used the middle of the long rope for the knot, so that there was an end for the girls to pull, and an end for her.
"The first team to pull his body to then-side by the balls wins!"
They tugged. The two girls were barely able to keep their ground. Arthur made muffled, anguished sounds in his gag.
Finally, he was ball-bent more towards the girls, and they claimed victory.
"All right," panted the big redhead, "take him; fuck him; he's yours!"
Millie mounted him without untying the knot that was making Mr. Rosen's constricted balls purple. She slammed up and down with his dork in her shit-wet rectum until he came.
The pain in his balls made Mr. Rosen regretful that he had ever been born all right. It is hard to come with pained, strangled purple balls!
"That's all for you, slut!" Debbie pulled Millie's twelve-year-old quivering sex-mad body from the man's pole and immediately mounted herself on the big red dork, cuntwise.
"You had better keep it up for me, come in my cunt as good as you came in her throbbing bowels, or else I will take this rope," she grabbed the strangling rope, "and YANK your sac off!"
He heaved up to meet her downwards-slamming little body.
She enjoyed the ride, thinking about the first time that she had ever been fucked, in her mother's house, by the sex-mad professor of history.
This was more fun, to be holding a rope tied to the man's balls, to be in control of him!
It was fun to be hurt, but it was even more fun to hurt someone!
Sex is fine, but it is a pretty routine act unless it is spiced up with pain. The three females knew that, and Millie was about to show that she knew that pain was the best thing in the world for her.
Millie mounted Arthur's face, cunt-down, pulled his gag off, and slammed her pussy on his lips.
She knew he would refuse to lap her, and she suspected that he might. ... SHE SCREAMED AND SCREAMED AND SCREAMED.
Arthur was chilly, afraid that he had bit the twelve-year-old blonde's long clit off. He almost did.
He couldn't help it, she had been looking for pain by doing the one thing he couldn't stand, putting her pussy up to his mouth. He didn't like it when he was blown, he never permitted it. But when a female put her disgusting sperm-soaked pussy to his lips, UGH! That was too much!
"You slimy bastard!" yelled Rose. "Look how you have hurt this child! She only wanted to get cunt-lapped. YOU PERVERT!"
Mrs. Rigatta jumped naked up on the bed and crushed his balls under her left foot, as hard as she could. If it wasn't for the give of the mattress, he would have had a higher voice than most men from that day forward.
Debbie had gotten her jollies. The sight of Millie being cunt-bitten by Arthur had made her come in gushes around his upward extending pole. Then she had jumped off and rubbed herself back to reality as she watched Mrs. Rigatta crunch his tied nuts against the sheet. Man, the sex and pain was really groovy that evening, thought the raven-haired button-nippled child.
If we do these things now, imagine what we will do, mused Rose, when we get six more little VIRGINS up here with the two handsome innocent boys. And they will be all hopped up for eager beaver sex from the Spanish fly we will slip the little beggars! Man, that was going to be fun!
Rose diddled herself in the chair while the tied up man with his gag hanging down on his throat, groaned from the ball-crushing assault she had mounted. His penis was as limp as a heated stick of margarine.
As fall follows summer, the four of them drifted off into sleep, tired from the strenuous sex. Arthur dreamed that he was a eunuch in the garden of flowers in Persia.
"Shit!" Millie jumped up realizing that it was near midnight. She heard the bell, the doorbell. "It must be mother!" she whispered frantically, squirming to find her clothes on the floor.
The bell rang again. It was both mothers. "Debbie, Millie? Mr. Rosen, are you in?"
"Shit, untie me!" urged Arthur. "COMING!" he yelled in a louder friendly tone. Without underwear, they all dressed in their crumpled clothes and Mr. Rosen opened the door.
"Why Mrs. Milford! Mrs. Bradley! I was just about to call you both. I had been trying to fix my car. It broke down. Mrs. Rigatta and I were going to take Millie and Debbie home in a taxi but he never showed up! I hope you aren't mad....
"Well, we wondered...." said Mrs. Bradley as the two dressed-to-kill women walked into the ramshackled apartment. "We kept calling but the line was busy."
"Oh, I see ... I must have had it off the hook by mistake. Please do come in. MILLIE, DEBBIE, your parents. You must go. I know you are all so tired that you can't stay a moment longer."
"Oh, I always wanted to meet you." Mrs. Bradley stared at the disheveled man and the disorderly topsy-turvy apartment. If it weren't for the fact that her daughter smiled and came forth immediately with her girl friend, if it weren't for the fact that Mrs. Rigatta had been there, Mrs. Bradley would have thought well....
"Please excuse the mess. There was a leak in the bathroom, and I had to call the plumbers. I'm afraid with all the mess and everything that the plumbers made we didn't get much work done on the girls' projects...."
"Oh, I was wondering!" Mrs. Milford seemed relieved. She didn't like her daughter being at a man teacher's house, but there seemed to be an explanation for the lateness and the mess and Mrs. Rigatta, known as strict and prudish, was there all evening. "Yes, perhaps we had better be going...."
"WHEW!" Disheveled Arthur collapsed on the bed with pale Rose. "I thought we were goners. How about untying my balls? I almost tripped on the rope that is dangling from my left pants leg!"
Soon they both were laughing and naked, making love. Close calls shared create affection, that's a fact!
Wrapped around each other's bodies, slamming together with sweaty vengeance, hurtling their docking mechanisms towards happy lunar insertions, the writhing twisting lovers orbited in the bed, enjoying the facts of life in the dark.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
"I really do."
"I don't. I just want to use your terrific body."
"Well, I have to confess that I don't love you either, I just really love fucking you!"
"Me too."
They were two of a kind, Rose and Arthur, completely sensual orgiastic creatures more interested in ecstasy than in romantic riddles.
They banged away all night, wondering why they couldn't sleep.
Mr. Rosen found the pill container the next morning while he sleepily dressed for work. That bitch Millie had put amphetamines in their coffee the night before!
"Wait till I see that little cunt at school, I will teach her to give her history professor dope!"
At school that day, she was shaking as he stared her up and down. He knew Debbie hadn't done it, she didn't use dope, ever. No, it had to be that twelve-year-old bare-crotched blonde bitch, Millie.
He kept her after school that day, to punish her, sending Debbie to her mother's, and telling Mrs. Rigatta to try and fix up a bit for the party before he came home. He would fix that blonde sub-teen's cunt good....
He shoved the girl into the coat closet at the back of the room and held her beautiful trembling arms hard up against the wall. "You need a lesson you won't forget you swill-swallowing cunt. I will teach you to drug up your teachers!"
He smashed the quivering little blonde across the lip, causing it to bleed. The blood trickled down her tiny chin and the child whimpered softly.
Mr. Rosen pulled down his fly and told the girl to bend over and slip off her panties. She did, and before he penetrated her rectal opening, the sex-mad history teacher put on a little device-a metal french tickler, once used by the Count of Bagneria to hurt his peasant girl victims.
Arthur had never used that device, that painful reddening circle that slipped over his dick with its pointed barbs extending outwards, on anyone but his beloved dead wife. Now Millie had the good fortune to be ass-ripped by the terrible tickler.
She didn't know that he had put it on. She thought he would be content to ass-fuck her and scratch her buttocks in the dark clothes closet. Not so....
He held her gorging throat in a stranglehold as he pressed his cock head into her. Then he rammed the device in, buckling the slim little child's knees with the agonizing rectal pain none but his wife had ever felt before.
He knew she would be able to stand it better than his wife had, she was young, strong....
He slammed in and out of her twitching little rump in the schoolroom closet, enjoying the twisting frantic hips of the girl as she tried to pull him out. Once the device was in, it was impossible to get him out unless his dick softened and lost its erection.
"Please. IT HURTS, STOP!"
"Shut up you fucking little dope-fiend. I will rend your inside, I will make chopped meat of your slimy hole!"
She cried loudly, but even the janitor had left by that time. He really came in her, and eventually he could pull out of the destroyed little bitch's hole.
He liked hurting her that way in the schoolroom closet, he liked hurting her as she bent to fulfill his evil desire. He had taught the lesson he had been born to teach little girls. He had given her a lesson in absolute PAIN!
He smiled as he detached the horror-device and ordered her to put on her panties and leave the building with him.
She sobbed softly in the cab and he lifted her skirt momentarily while the cabbie was preoccupied and saw red stains seeping through her underwear. Shit, he thought.
She was tied spread-eagle by Mrs. Rigatta when they entered the apartment, and the table leg, which had somehow come loose again, was forced into her vagina as she screamed and screamed and screamed.
"Poison me with your damned drugs, will you, you slimy cunt, you sub-teen junkie!" Mrs. Rigatta slapped her repeatedly, and twisted the table leg against the girl's groaning womb.
"Yes. I am sure she did it!" said Mr. Rosen, biting one of the blonde's little nipples. "I used a special thing on her at school, an old torture thing that fits on my cock.
"That is why her panties were bloody!"
"Very good," sneered the English teacher. Her bare boobs throbbed in exultation while she ravaged the spread twelve-year-old. "I hoped you would punish her too."
"I will show you my terrible little terror device later. Maybe with your permission, I will use it on the young virgins at the Halloween party tomorrow."
"That sounds fine. Virgins must understand pain, to appreciate sex, you know that?"
"I know."
"Do you?"
"Yes. I have discovered that pain is beneficial to the rapid development of insatiable nymphomania in innocent girls-previously innocent I mean."
"You're pretty smart. The prudish authorities have suppressed that bit of information. They think sex is evil. The country shouldn't be run by old men."
"I agree."
Millie was screaming, so Debbie gagged her and Mrs. Rigatta contented herself with twisting the wooden stave into the little spread bitch until supper was ready.
Debbie could cook, often her mother was away and the maid was undependable. It is so hard to get good servants today. They all think that being a servant is degrading and they make up for their degraded feeling by walking all over their employers. They don't even show up sometimes.
"Stop torturing the stupid drug freak and let's eat!" That was Millie's way of saying "Soup's on!"
Arthur was famished. Watching torture performed on the blonde cunt, plus the expenditure of come he made into the little whore in the closet made him hungry as hell.
It was spaghetti. Arthur always thought that spaghetti was a very sexy, dish. It reminded him of a plate of long thin penises, covered with red stuff. It could be shaped with a fork into the very picture of a cunt having a period, and he did so as he ate. It aroused him.
Debbie watched fascinated as the morally degenerate unrepentant history professor gone sex-mad toyed with his food. She never got over how he could be so juvenile sometimes. She concluded that he must be from the "lower class."
Mrs. Rigatta, her mouth full of spaghetti, spoke. "You know who I met in the street the other day? I met that famous rock and roll star, you know, the one with the Oriental wife. He was eating in the restaurant across the street. I asked him what he was doing, you know, if he was playing any place soon. He said he was maybe going to play in Murchison Square Garden soon, but that he didn't know. He's cute."
Debbie was fascinated, she had always dreamed of meeting the composer-musician.
"What else did he say?"
"Well," confessed Rose, "I didn't want to disturb him so I just said something about my being a school teacher and he said 'Oh, that's a good life, 'tis.' "
They all laughed.
"Does he still have that way of talking? Like in the movie he and the others made?" Debbie asked.
"He sure does, he's really weird. Cute though, very cute. I would like to, well you know...."
"Yeah, we know," they laughed. Poor little Millie was in the other room listening to the conversation and the forks scraping on the plates. She was starving but they didn't think to feed her.
Millie still had the table leg up her vagina and her other hole still hurt horribly for the man teacher's torture in the school closet.
Finally the chatter died down and the dishes were put in the sink. Millie was given the ultimate torture of having to wash the dishes while the others sat around and shot the bull.
"Does that guy really believe all that 'Love, love' stuff he always sings about?" Arthur remembered seeing the star from his window, entering a limousine one day. He was curious as to whether or not the musician always ate at the restaurant nearby, and about the man's philosophy of life.
"Apparently," said the redhead, "he does believe in all that stuff about love. He was very charming, but I think it was real. I mean, he really seemed to be friendly and all that stuff."
"Yeah, but he's getting rich telling people to love each other!"
"Well, why not? Besides, he was rich before. He made lots of money even before he wrote songs on his own."
Debbie was fascinated with the subject but it soon bored the adults, who started talking about the stock market and why it was so fucked up all the time lately.
"It's the damned military budget. It has thrown the country out of whack. The whole economy," insisted emphatic Arthur, "is based on the military budget. It's ridiculous. I think the time has come for all the nations to realize that there can be no war without everyone being destroyed."
"Yeah, but tell the enemy that. They want to bomb the shit out of the good old USA. Or at least start a revolution."
Debbie could see that Rose was a "hawk," and that Arthur was a "dove." One was for disarmament, the other for increased military spending and a tough line in foreign policy, even if it means war.
"I think," continued the nude, boob-protrusive English instructor, "that after we all paid taxes for years to develop the satellite weapons and H-bomb, that we should use them to defeat the enemy."
"That's bull," Arthur retorted, "they have bombs too."
"Get them before they get us!"
"Shit, I am glad you aren't the president! It was stupid to build all those rocket weapons and rays and satellites and all that shit like H-bombs. We could have created a paradise on earth where everyone got what he wanted in life, where all the pollution was eliminated, if it wasn't for the damned waste of money on useless weapons."
"Since when are weapons useless?" The redhead was fuming mad. Political discussions have a way of turning into arguments. "If we USED the H-bomb, it wouldn't be useless!"
"You want to kill millions of people don't you? You are one of those paranoiacs that can't stand to let anybody except yourself share the wealth of this nation. You would rather kill everyone outside the USA than maybe put the US under a United Nations government!" Arthur was mad too.
"NO, it's not that. It's just that we should get them before it's too late!"
"Oh shit, I didn't realize that you were so stupid. Don't you see that the best solution is for everybody in the world to destroy the lethal weapons they have made and put all governments under a United World government? That government would protect every person's rights, put freedom everywhere, and level off the differences between rich and poor. No one would have too much and no one would have too little. Since everyone was equal and free, there no longer would be reason for wars.
"Fuck that shit, scumbag! You are some sort of commie bastard, aren't you? You want everyone to be equal? I suppose you want the workers to rule and our betters to be reduced to ordinary workers!"
"Well I don't know about that 'commie' shit, but I know that all nations need a government that guarantees freedom and equality. I don't think anyone should be significantly better off than anyone else."
That ended the conversation-argument. The two lovers, the two sex-perts on pain were implacable political foes and they had never known it.
Debbie at last screwed up the courage to suggest that perhaps they all should sexually abuse little twelve-year-old Millie again. The poor girl, dripping a drop of blood from her private areas, had finished washing the dishes.
"No please!" pleaded the little juicy cunt. "I want to be loved not hurt!"
"Bullshit!" they all yelled, and they forced her over to the bed, tied her spread-eagle again and Rose went to work in her pussy with a dildo while Arthur bit one tit and Debbie the other. Naturally she screamed, but instead of putting on the gag, Debbie turned the TV up loud and continued biting. There is so much violence on TV even in the commercials, that she couldn't be discerned from the shooting and screaming of the programs.
As Debbie bit on the blonde sub-teen's left titty, she wondered if Arthur was right. The whole world seemed bent on violence and the only way to stop was TO STOP! Just stop, that's how you stop, she mused. It is so simple, but it involves trust, and there are certain people who have too much to lose to want peace-the powers that depend on war hysteria, she thought, to keep their hold!
The TV droned out its shoot-em-down messages while they tortured the blonde's bare pussy lips to a frazzle.
As Debbie sucked and made toothmarks on the tied child's breast, she also thought about sex. I bet, she concluded, that the reason that so many people want war is because they don't get good orgasms! Some doctor, who was called a nut and who had all his books burned by the Nazis and then by the U. S. government, and by practically every nation inn the world, had said all that people need is a good fuck. That psychiatrist was eccentric, no doubt about that, and he had the fault of not recognizing the beauty of sexual torture, but he had some brains nevertheless.
It is easy, thought the naked raven-haired nymphomaniac, to see that a good sex life would make people more content. The revolutions that try to establish economic equality fail to provide for the sexual needs of the people, and so the same old tensions build up again and pretty soon there is a war. Dr. Willard Reick, that was the doctor's name, she remembered, always said that a war was one big ORGASM to make up for the lack of smaller individual ones.
What am I, some sort of philosopher, she self-criticized. Fuck it, I have a tit in my mouth and I am happy; that's all that matters. I should stop thinking, thought Debbie, and start biting harder.
Arthur, his dick working overtime on the wild thigh of the girl beneath him trying to squeeze in to the hole occupied by the dildo, cursed at Rose. He demanded that he be given free access to the cunt.
Debbie had a wild idea. She saw some similarity between Arthur asking to get into Millie's cunt and the situation after World War Two when the allies had to force their way to Berlin. It was funny, a strange thought. Perhaps, she trembled, I am losing my mind from all this sex stuff. After all I am only an attractive thirteen-year-old child....
Nevertheless, Debbie was a thinker, and as the loud TV droned on, and as Millie screamed to beat the band, she continued forming ideas in her mind. She thought about how an army penetrating enemy territory was like a giant compensation for the inability of someone to feel up some broad's titties.
She thought that if the good doctor Reick had been correct, maybe the defoliating of a jungle by chemicals was a result of not enough guys getting into cunts, or not being able to see cunts because of the crotch hair.
Suddenly the little raven-haired sexpot was ass-bitten by Arthur. "What the hell are you doing? Dreaming, aren't you! Well, if you don't bite Millie's titties better, perhaps I should bite yours!"
Arthur held the girl's wrists and forced her to tongue kiss him in his forty-year-old mouth. He smelled awful, his breath was bad, he never used a toothbrush.
Then the forceful naked teacher with the aid of Rose, made Debbie kneel. He put on his hideous medieval cunt-torturing ring, the one he had used in the school closet with Millie.
With Rose holding her torso to the bed, the big dick slammed up the delicate rectum of the thirteen-year-old girl. It hurt like hell as the pointy barbs of the cunt-hurting cock device slammed about inside her bowels, and Debbie screamed while Millie gasped, remembering the horrible, unbearable pain that she had received from the rending device. She knew that once it was in a girl's rectum, it couldn't be pulled out until the man lost his erection.
"Now, feel ultimate pain, like my wife felt before, you, you dreamy-eyed pussy, you slimy cunt child!" Arthur ranted and raved, cursing the twat as he shoved around, locked inside the child's rectal opening, giving pain.
Rose reached down and shoved her whole fat hand wrist-deep into the tiny girl's abused pussy lips, eliciting the loudest scream of the evening. Together with Arthur she agonized the slender cunt until she collapsed unconscious.
A little smelling salts from the end table revived her.
"PLEASE STOP!"
"Shut the fuck up, you degenerate pussy!" Arthur kept slashing the insides of the girl's shit box with his cock, twisting it in her so that she would cry out.
"PLEASE!"
"Shut up!"
Rose bit the girl's backside, then each of her tits while poor little twelve-year-old Millie was still tied wide open, ready for anything they might want to do to her too.
As Arthur pumped away he thought of the Halloween party to come. He thought of all the girls, pretty, naked girls a month or two past puberty, that he could ass-rip with the cock weapon. He smiled and with his balls slapping on Debbie's cunt, he slammed it up repeatedly in her bowel chamber, until he came into the chocolate baby goo.
He shriveled and removed his shit-clogged penis, demanding that Debbie lick the shit off or be cunt-fucked with the same evil rending ring still around his dork.
She complied with his wishes and swallowed all of her accumulated shit that clung to his peter.
"That's good Debbie. Now, from now on," cautioned Arthur, "when you help torture and degrade your little blonde friend, this cunt without crotch hair, be sure to do your torture with effectiveness, instead of letting your mind wander."
"Yes sir." Debbie, her ass wet with splashed shit and ball juice, bowed upon Arthur's command, then knelt and embraced his feet.
"Suck all the toe jam from between my toes. I think I might have athlete's foot. There seems to be some fungus near my big toes. Be sure to lick it all off and swallow it you stupid cunt."
"Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes, master."
She swallowed all his toe jam.
Then it was Millie's turn to be tortured again, just like the wars move to different parts of the globe, so did the sex-torture game of the two teachers move from one girl to the other. Debbie was far past caring about that analogy though, as she was on the floor, heaving up vomit.
"Now Millie," smirked the busty redheaded English teacher, "I won't punish you if you can recite all the being verbs to me immediately."
Millie thought she knew all those difficult verbs. She was as smart as Debbie. She started reciting:
"The being verbs: BE, AM, IS, ARE, WAS, WERE, BEING, BEEN, HAVE, HAS, HAD, SHALL, SHOULD, WILL, WOULD, CAN, DO, DID ... er...."
"You fucking scum-swallowing bitch. After all the time I spent teaching you grammar, you forget one verb! Well, I will make you remember!"
The mad jedhead shoved a big titty against the girl's face and made her suck. Then she popped it away and took her left thumb and index finger and started massaging the clit inside the bare crotch lips of the child.
Arthur watched as the woman gradually twisted the little clit more and more, until with each motion of her fingers the screaming little girl was nearly having her clit pulled off!
"Stop!" he yelled. "I want her to keep her clit. I like to feel it against my dick, I like the way it looks, all puffed and red with little veins all over it!"
The redhead had to be forcibly pulled away by her nipples. She seemed intent on removing the twelve-year-old's perfect sex button!
"Listen, Rose, take a deep breath and compose yourself. If you like I will relieve your tremendous sexual urges by fucking you, without the torture device on."
She took several deep breaths and then she said," Thanks, I was getting carried away!"
"Don't I know it!"
"Well, aren't you going to fuck me?"
"Front or rear?"
"Rear!"
She bent and Arthur shoved his unstoppable sword into her spongy asshole, sliding easily in and out as the English teacher diddled her clit and as the freed, sobbing Debbie sat on the same side of the bed watching and hoping that she would be allowed to bite a tit or anything.
"More, faster!"
The redhead's request was met with stiff approval. Mr. Rosen wasn't one to not move fast when requested. If his dick was a flint and Mrs. Rigatta's rectum a tinder box, there would have been a good fire!
"THAT'S IT, THAT'S IT. YES, DO IT THAT WAY, FASTER!"
Arthur was proud that as the woman bent for his entrance diddled herself, he kept up the furiously exciting pace. He was glad that he took vitamins twice a day, glad that he watched his diet and avoided between-meal snacks, got plenty of exercise and generally ate sensibly. If everyone did that, he thought, they all would look as gaunt and be as energetic sexually as I am. If everyone ate a well-balanced meal and did. exercises like he did, jogging plus some karate workout in the school gym, they would look good enough to attract poontang like Mrs. Rigatta.
As he pumped away in the busty nude redhead's ass crack, Arthur also thought that reading was important to a person's sex life. No broad wants to get fucked by some scummy degenerate looking fat ILLITERATE creep. No, in addition to having good sexual energy by eating and exercising, doing sit-ups and such, a man should always make it a practice of reading a good book at least once a month. He must be an INTERESTING person, like me, thought Arthur, to attract pussy like Mrs. Rigatta!
Suddenly his locked dam burst forth in the woman, flooding her itching "bosca" with energetic seeking sperm!
"Whamo! There I am!" said Arthur triumphantly.
"You're wonderful Mr. Rosen, wonderful."
"Thank you." He remained warmly in the woman's hole.
"You know, when you do that to me, fuck me in the ass, I feel like a Voyager spacecraft slipping down onto Mars. I am in another world!"
"Thanks." He wondered if he was getting buttered up for some sort of request; he suspected her flattery because she wasn't the kind to flatter without a reason. "And furthermore," she continued, "when you slam your balls against my twat, it's like I was one of those huge wheeling space stations that you read about. I am in orbit!"
"Thanks. You seem to have an interest in space travel."
"No. It's just that sex is like space travel to me."
"I see." Here was a case for Freud, he thought.
"Of course," she said as his dork grew limp inside her scummy asshole, "I did go down to Cape Kennedy eight years back and looked at the first moon rocket go off. Man, it looked like a penis going into a sky-cunt! It was pretty too, and noisy. I guess it costs a lot of money, but I would like to fly to the moon or Mars and fuck on the way in gravity-free floats!"
Arthur's limp wet dick oozed from the woman's fat rump hole.
"Yes, I guess space travel is nice. I guess it would be fun to fuck in free-fall, where the earth's gravity is nullified by orbiting."
"Yes," enthusiastic to the point of over-flowing, the redhead sat on the bed, and continued, "I think it would be wonderful to go down to Cape Kennedy and look at the space ships take off, don't you?"
"Yes, but ... "
"Wonderful. We will leave after Halloween, that is, if you can lend me some bread. Say you will, say it, you big hunk of man, you!"
"Well, I...."
"Oh, thank you. Thank you. We can go to the beaches and casinos too, can't we!"
"Well, I guess if...."
"Great!"
It is easy for a woman that knows what she wants to wrap a man around her finger. Arthur saw that all that talk about his great fucking job, and how it was like space travel was really a subterfuge for asking him to pay for a trip to Cape Kennedy, Florida. Shit, he had agreed too!
"Fuck me up my throbbing pussy now, big-cocked man!"
She knew how to please him.
While he fucked her pussy raw, she told him enthusiastically about the rocket going up into the sky. She said it had been quite a scene down on the beach, nearly a million people. There were a few guys selling buttons with the names of the astronauts on the beach too. It cost two bucks, but she had bought one. After all, it had been an historic event, she said.
"Stop talking, bitch, you are distracting my big penis!"
He heaved into her spread wide legs and sucked on her nipples alternately with Debbie while he pumped. She quivered and quaked, rolled and rocked, jerked and jiggled to an ecstatic climax that left her flushed and shivering. She pulled the blanket over her naked body but the black-haired girl-child crawled under it to taste something.
Pretty soon Rose was smiling again, warm and cozy.
Arthur had a pretty good idea that Debbie wasn't sucking on candy underneath the blanket, but he couldn't be sure.
He didn't allow any cunt-lapping usually, but he was too exhausted to check on Debbie's activities and he crawled off to rest in the bath. He wanted to put his clothes neatly in a pile so they wouldn't crease, but as he looked around the John he noticed there wasn't a chair for them.
He looked out the bathroom window, which was open a bit. It was going to rain, he saw. He filled the tub with warm water and splashed in. It was relaxing but he wished he had some chocolate cake to eat. He always liked to eat chocolate cake after he had sex. Sex makes you crave sweets. Oh well, it's like that, he mused, sinking down to his throat in the warm water, stretching out as much as possible.
Pretty soon he had company, Millie, all covered with raw gashes from a whip. It seemed that while he lolled in the water the bitch had been whipped by the other two, and she had fled to him naked and crying, all bruised, for safety. She locked the door behind her.
"Protect me and I will suck you, or anything. Look!" She pointed to her bare crotch, "after you pulled all my little blonde cunt hairs out with the tweezers, they never grew back!"
"Good, you look prettier that way, more child-like. I will protect you from the whip if you reach into the water while you kneel next to the tub and jerk me off underwater."
"It's a deal!"
She gave him an excellent prick rub, and as she jerked him off, he dreamed of Millie all covered with silver paint coming in through the bathroom window. He didn't know why that vision turned him on so much, but it did. He came in the warm water; her hand-job had been the best he had ever had. Twelve-year-old girls are talented, they are UNINHIBITED.
He asked her to bend her ear close to his mouth and as the other females pounded on the door he whispered that he loved Millie, and that he would pound the others on the head and take her away with him to Florida real soon.
The child-nymphomaniac smiled and tongue-kissed her wet history teacher. She said she loved him too, and asked if he could at least keep Rose from shoving the table leg up her cunt.
He said he would see what he could do about Rose.
CHAPTER FOUR
The day of the Halloween party, long awaited, came! Mr. Rosen wanted everything to be perfect, absolutely perfect.
Mrs. Rigatta, in addition to purchasing a special outfit, made a point of picking up ingredients for a punch and lots of candies.
That evening, together with Debbie's and Millie's naked assistance, they put up streamers and generally decorated. Soon the apartment was alluringly party-like and even the drunken redhead, who was often surly, remarked upon how beautiful it looked. She had been drinking her hootch again while sitting on the toilet.
Mr. Rosen had bought some special things for the party-a set of two big brass rings that he screwed securely into the wall, the strong outside wall of the apartment. He put them up high, about three feet apart. Envisioning two naked twelve-year-old girls tied by their wrists to the rings, hands over their heads, barely able to touch the floor, crying, made him nearly come in his pants.
Tonight's the night, he thought. Tonight I get all the sex thrills a man usually doesn't get in a whole lifetime.
To test out his new wall-secured brass rings, he told Millie and Debbie to stand below the rings and try and touch them with their wrists. It looked very becoming, very enticing to see those two naked girl children so pale and open against the blue wall.
"Let's tie you two up a bit to see how it looks." Arthur figured that a dry run with Millie and Debbie would best test the new devices.
"Good idea," smiled nude and busty Mrs. Rigatta. She picked some rope from atop the dresser and secured Millie. Millie had to stand on her tiptoes to have her wrists tied above her so high.
"Perfect!" Mr. Rosen observed. He was now naked also, and a casual glance from Millie made her gasp. He had on the devilish cock ring with the rending barbs on it.
"You-you aren't going to put that in me, are you?"
"No. I am just doing a dry run, dear."
Debbie was secured next by Rose. The raven-haired thirteen-year-old had less trouble reaching the floor, but even she had to stand on the balls of her feet.
"That's nice. Thank you," said Mr. Rosen to the English teacher whose huge breasts were like swollen cantaloupes. "I think these girls look great against the wall. You see, they can squirm and struggle when we whip them and stuff, but they can't free themselves."
"I especially like the way the girls have difficulty standing," commented Mrs. Rigatta, placing her sensuously curved naked form next to the man teacher. "They will soon tire and virtually be hanging there by their wrists. Millie will tire first, I think. It's hard to stand on one's toes."
Millie asked to be freed because she was getting tired, as a matter-of-fact.
"Shut the fuck up, Millie," snarled the buxom naked Mrs. Rigatta. "You like pain, you love discomfort. I know that we have trained you so that pain gives you moistness in your wide vagina. I know that you want to be whipped and fucked."
"No! I want to be let down."
"The child is disobedient," Mrs. Rigatta, who had swallowed a fifth of vodka in the John, seemed infuriated at Millie's contradicting her. "She must be punished by us, Arthur."
"Yes," sneered the man with the huge erection. "I will give you a whip to do it to her."
Mr. Rosen went into the living room and brought back a long braided mule whip.
"Try this one. It's the longest."
"No!" screeched Millie, the bare-pubed girl-child so tautly secured in the overhead ropes.
The lash flailed again and again on the flesh of Millie's upturned little breasts, causing screams from her going up the scale to high C. Mr. Rosen turned the TV on loud to cover the noise.
Mrs. Rigatta wasn't just practicing for the party, she was having a ball beating the whiplash across the little blonde child's thighs.
"Those marks the lash makes are beautiful," Mr. Rosen yelled. "They make her look even more a victim than the lack of any cunt hair."
"Yes," said Mrs. Rigatta, her breasts jerking and swirling around as she swung again and again, bringing the lash tip down on the very tips of the girl's tortured nipples. "I think that she looks better crying and screaming, with red lines all over her thighs and breasts, don't you? Of course, it was pure genius to pull her cunt hairs out with the tweezers like you did. It makes her look even younger than twelve."
Mr. Rosen, aroused to the point where he had to be satisfied, went to Millie and, standing on a telephone directory, shoved his dork in her itching and already sopping wet twat as she hung there next to Millie.
Debbie groaned and her eyes rolled. She started screaming. Mr. Rosen had forgotten to take off the terrible torture device on his dick, but he didn't care. It caused her to jerk and writhe in pain, and that felt good to him. He also liked her screams along with the sound of the lash hitting Millie's flesh and the blonde's screams.
Madly, as he stood shoving in and out, in and out of the screaming raven-haired child, he grunted and bit her appealing and succulent child's nipples, biting hard.
Mr. Rosen took longer to come because he was standing. It takes longer to come when you're standing.
That meant that the rending torture device was ground around in Debbie's meat box longer than ever, longer than it had been in Millie the other day.
Mr. Rosen had one of the best climaxes of his life, while poor Millie was whipped to a frazzle and his impaled black-haired child victim was in the cunt-agony that only a barbed cock ring can deliver to a female.
At last, his sperm came in bucketsful into the girl's splashy and somewhat bloody come-box, but Mr. Rosen had to stand there stuck into the child until his erection went away because the cock ring was caught in her mucous membranes.
At last Mr. Rosen was able to remove his dick from his tiny girl pupil, who was strung up before him, dripping sperm cells from her cunt, crying as loudly as Millie. He liked that sound, the sound of a female child crying after being raped, after being tortured and raped. They should record that sound, he thought, and play it on the radios overseas. The soldiers could jack themselves off looking at spread crotch photos of busty women and listening to those wails of despair that a girl-child makes after painful sex.
"Have you finished on Debbie?" Mrs. Rigatta brushed her big soft buttery hips against the man teacher's dork, sending new stimulation into his sex. "If you have, would you please remove that horrible cock ring, get another erection, and plug my hole?"
"Sure," he said.
He took off the cock ring and dropped it on the floor. Since the girls were sobbing more softly now that Mr. and Mrs. Torture were done, the man teacher turned down the loud TV. He didn't want to be distracted while he bucked and heaved into the redheaded lush's stinking crap hole.
"Bend over, bitch, against the bed."
She gladly bent, determined to diddle herself to ecstasy like she always did while the man took her in the rear.
The two girls strung up on the wall were ignored while the redhead was pumped to hell by the powerful big pole of her fellow instructor. If the kids could see me now, she thought.
Of course, the kids will see me this evening, see me in my special sadist's outfit. They will fall under the blows of my whip, be forced to perform mad naked sex before my eyes, and then I will make them all kiss my feet.
"Wiggle more," demanded Mr. Rosen, imbedded all the way to his shit-covered balls in the huge round rump of the super-built Mrs. Rigatta.
She concentrated on the sexual assault her rear was receiving and diddled her clit and soon she came, splashing wet drops of womb juice on the sheet below her self-probing fingers. The man also came at that time, sending the warm pasty man-juice up into her intestines, and pulling out his shit-covered cock head.
"Lick it off, bitch."
Exhausted, the two teachers fell to the bed and slowly went to sleep, listening to the pleasant sounds of the two girl-children sobbing in their bindings.
The decorated apartment waited for the children to come, waited for the night of brutality, of pedophiliac terror.
They dozed a long time. Too long. The doorbell rang.
Mrs. Rigatta, her boobs jolted by Mr. Rosen's elbow, jumped up.
"Oh, shit! They're here and we aren't ready. Quick! Cut down Millie and Debbie and shove them into the John to put on their party dresses. Then, while I dress, answer the door. Just put your pants and T-shirt on. Hurry!"
Mr. Rosen found himself obeying the redhead. She had a very commanding voice.
"Hi, kids!" he said. "We haven't made the punch yet, but there's lots of candy and two of your classmates are already here. There are masks and surprises for everybody."
The first little girl in was Tambi, the little Oriental girl. She wore a little pinafore dress and a pair of olive panty hose. Mr. Rosen's dork stood against his zipper as he eyed the girl's cunt area. Never used, he thought. I will change that. Mrs. Rigatta and I and a little Spanish fly plus naked children equals fun. He liked that equation. He should have been a math teacher.
The second little girl in .the apartment was Anita Covell, the diminutive brown-haired girl, with the most curvaceous ass that he had ever seen.
Then came Betty Tomlinson; cute, freckled, green-eyed, just right for painful rending. I bet her pussy is like a little bud, and without cunt hair.
The last girl in this group of early arrivers was Loretta, the girl that was like a miniature of slutty-looking Mrs. Rigatta.
"Well," Mr. Rosen said, "I'm glad you could all come."
Little Tambi asked where the food was.
"On the dresser. All the candy any little girl could desire." He smirked as the children ran to eat candy. He hoped that they ate a lot of the aphrodisiac-spiked candy. The more they ate, the more the little girls' pussies would cry out and itch for his enormous forty-year-old dick to penetrate their tight cunts.
Mrs. Rigatta, Millie, and Debbie stepped from the bathroom, all dressed respectably, as if they had never been naked in their lives. Mr. Rosen smiled. He knew that under her modest blue dress Mrs. Rigatta wore her metal bra with the jutting nipples sticking out, her black leather garter belt, and her chain-mail g-string. He knew that the minute the kids got zonked on the Spanish fly, she would strip down to her torture outfit and soon they would find their pert little girl-child bodies either spread-eagled or pinned to the wall.
"Well now, children, we will make a punch soon. I hope the rest of the kids will be here soon." Mrs. Rigatta was effervescent, anxious.
"Come on Deb, Millie. Let's go into the kitchen and make the punch. The punch," she whispered to the girls in the kitchen, "has enough Spanish fly in it to make anyone want to fuck an elephant and be able to do it!"
Smiling broadly, the trio soon brought the big punch bowl into the living room. Mr. Rosen was in the bedroom with the Chinese youngster, it seemed, and the door was closed and locked.
"Well," muttered Mrs. Rigatta to the girl assistants, "you gotta start sometime."
When the other luscious twelve-and thirteen-year-olds arrived, the children were told to drink up all the punch and then they would all play some games.
They drank it. The adults were careful to see that the two boys received big glasses of the sex-stimulating drug. Then the plotters sat and waited. It would take about twenty minutes.
The kids were getting bored when they began feeling the first tingles and ticklings in their sexes. Betty Tomlinson started hip-convulsing right there on the couch uncontrollably.
"I-I ... I gotta go to the bathroom!" Betty ran into the toilet room and slammed the door. There was no lock on the inside. Mr. Rosen had seen to that. He followed her, finding the twelve-year-old sitting with her panties down and rubbing herself on the toilet.
"My my, what's wrong?"
"I, er, that is, I feel I...."
"Would you like me to help you?"
"Yes! I mean, no, er, maybe-"
Mr. Rosen needed no invitation. He dropped his pants to the floor and, bending the little girl over the toilet seat, he slammed his cock into her front hole, her wet little virgin spot splattering blood.
He could hear all sorts of disorder in the other rooms as the drug took the other children and as Millie, Debbie, and Mrs. Rigatta capitalized on the children's new sexual potentials.
The girl pinned against the toilet seat begged him to continue pumping her slimy, bloody cunt, and he did. Virgins always bled a little, and so he wasn't worried about the girl. What's a little blood between pupil and teacher?
"I love you," gurgled the sub-teen pinned-down girl as he dove in and out of her.
"Shut the fuck up and move your hips."
She did, and she had the urge.
"Harder and faster!"
Shit, even the twelve-year-old virgins ask for the same-all girls want it harder and faster! Arthur pulled the girl's dress up over her little bra while he took her and ripped the cups away from the little breasts. The sight of those little bumps topped by pink nipples made his cock probe her womb most urgently and she moaned and groaned and her thin little legs wrapped around his buttocks as she and he came together, the twelve-year-old girl's come meeting the onslaught of his hot stick's rain inside her.
He threw her to the floor and kicked her, then left the John while the girl cried out for more.
Fucking little bitch, he thought. She wants more and it's her first time!
The scene in the living room was like out of the Marquis De Sade's books. Rose was stripped down to her torture outfit of metal leather and silk stockings and Debbie and Millie and she were whipping two girls spread-eagled, one above the other in sixty-nine position on the bed.
In the other room, hanging on one of the wall rings was the gagged and lovely shape of Anita Covell. Her brown locks partly hid her breasts, so he pushed the hair away.
Arthur gasped. There were already marks, the initials R.R. on the girl's two small firm and upturned breasts, and her lips were bleeding, both between her legs and her facial lips.
"My word!" He backed off. He saw that the tweezer was lying in a pile of brown cunt hair on the floor and that the girl's crotch triangle had been yanked clean of pubic tangle.
The girls certainly had worked fast while he was deflowering Betty Tomlinson's freckled body.
He wondered if the gagged hanging sub-teen was still a virgin. Those drops of blood....
Arthur peered up the girl's cunt as he spread her cunt lips with his left thumb and index finger. A hymen! She still had that membrane of young virginity!
Well, why not remove that encumbrance to see, he figured. He shoved his cock in as the girl vainly defended her maidenhood by squirming.
He had forgotten about the painful cock ring, but he figured her cunt was just lucky. He would get the next virgin with the deadly device, that's for sure, he thought.
He spurted into the girl's womb and then he pulled out to join the merriment in the other room.
Mrs. Rigatta and the two naked nymph-conspirators, Millie and Debbie, were still whipping the two girls that were tied spread-eagle, one atop the other on the bed.
"Can I help?" Mr. Rosen asked.
"Yes," Mrs. Rigatta replied. "You can fuck whichever one you can reach into, but be sure to hurt her with the cock ring. I want to hear her scream."
Arthur had picked up the cock ring and brought it with him. He was only too happy to put it on his giant dick.
The one on top was easiest to fuck, but he had a good idea. With a little squirming, his cock could also reach the chick on the bottom, so why not put it in her after using the virgin tied atop her? It seemed exciting, like fucking a Siamese twin girl virgin.
The problem was that once inside the top girl, who had a pillow covering her face with the dick ring, it was impossible to pull out until he came.
After he came into the screaming girl who he thought was Loretta, he thought he saw some brown cunt hair on her. He hadn't bothered to see which twelve-year-old virgin he was fucking. It didn't really matter, but he had thought it was Loretta because there were boobs that were pretty big on the child.
The brown cunt hair proved that he had come inside of not Loretta, but another child who he did not bother to find out. He had hurt whichever virgin it was horribly because he had the cock ring on when he had pierced her hymen.
The girl underneath he spared the pain and agony of the ring. He removed it before he pierced her. It was so easy getting into her that he realized she had already been de-virginated by one of the sex-mad thirteen-year-old boys. He wondered aloud where the boys were.
Rose told him that she had to lock them in the closet in order to save him some of the virgin pussy. They had penetrated three of the girls before they were thrown into the closet, she said.
He spurted almost limply into the girl underneath. It was impossible to see her face or even her breasts because she was under the brown cunt-haired girl, but he knew he had gotten Loretta up the twat because he saw she had a reddish tangle of crotch hairs. Too bad, he thought, that I wasn't able to burst her hymen, too. I would have at least liked to see one of the naked boys fuck the come out of the little bitch.
He got off the girls, whacking the breasts of the girl on top with a fist before joining the three other sadistically inclined ones in whipping the mass of bed flesh.
He tried to hit the clit of Loretta with the whip tip, but instead rent the brown-crotched girl on top in the pussy lips. His aim was off.
There were two or three naked little girls cringing and masturbating themselves in various parts of the room. They all had lash marks and bite marks on their breasts. Arthur realized that while he had taken Betty in the John he had really missed a lot of sadistic fun.
"Let the boys out of the closet," he insisted. "Those naked twelve-year-olds need fucking. Look at the way they are rubbing the shit out of their own ever-loving juicy child cunts. They need fucking!"
"Get me the Chinese bitch!" he yelled. "Don't forget to free the two pricks from the closet."
That was what he thought of children: boys were devices that carried pricks, and girls were things that had cunts. He didn't give a shit for the mind that they also had. What did it matter? The only important thing is pussy and dick!
Surprisingly the whip woman and her two naked girl-child accomplices fetched the groaning, bloody twelve-year-old Oriental. She had already had her crotch hairs pulled out by the roots. Rose said the boys had taken turns tweezing the little bitch before they plugged her up her cunt and anus simultaneously.
"Shit, I hope her asshole is still tight," exclaimed the naked history professor, jacking his limp dick with his right hand. "I want to do it in her ass. She has such a nice round golden-colored ass for a twelve-year-old, doesn't she?"
The crying girl, begging, was bent over by the bedside and he shoved it in her just as Loretta released the mad boys from the closet.
As Mr. Rosen pumped into the wailing Oriental girl, the boys each grabbed one nude girl-child apiece and slammed them to the floor, oblivious to being watched. While Arthur pumped into Tambi's rectum, they took their females up the cunt on the carpet. It was exciting viewing, making Arthur's dork speed to an early climax in the bowels of the child he was so cruelly and violently rending with his wide dork.
"That was good, but let's have some weird fun. Let's put cat and dog masks on each of the naked girls and we can tie them up and pinch and tweeze and bite them without being able to even see which one we are hurting. They are still cunt twitching for sex from the effect of the drugged punch and the adulterated candies. They will still love getting fucked and rubbed to hell."
Arthur liked the idea of not knowing whom he was fucking. He had a thing for treating the children as mere sex objects, and if there was a way to make the sex any more anonymous, then he wanted to do that.
Rose didn't care to put masks on the children, but she gave in to the Halloween fantasies of the man teacher and pretty soon all the girl children had masks of either dog or cat faces on, or witches' faces.
The two boys couldn't be disguised so easily. Arthur Williams, the taller one, also had the longest dick in the eighth grade, while his pal, Harry Morgenstern, was brown-haired and had a short stubby but wide dork. So-they weren't included in the fun and games and they were led by Rose back to their closet for storage. She certainly hoped their hominess wouldn't make them do anything in the closet.
Dark, shy, and retiring little Maria also seemed difficult to disguise. While one other girl had R.R. initials on her breasts, they weren't visible when the lights were dimmed. Maria's poor breasts had been horribly mutilated by her classmate, Harry. He had, in his juvenile sex craze, burned the girl's little knobs with the fireplace poker, burned long gashes into them, a circular design about her nipples.
Since Maria was thus easily told from the other naked bodies in the glimmering light of the fireplace, she was placed in the closet with Harry and her other pal, Arthur.
Since both Rose and Mr. Rosen were against homosexuality except among women, it seemed like a good idea anyway to leave the sex-starved thirteen-year-old boys one girl to play with naked in the closet, amid the shoes and clothing.
Now that all the girls were masked, and now that the lights were extremely turned down, the fireplace took on a beauty that flickered across the room. The warm glow gave a greater beauty to all the trembling but still sex-eager drugged little naked girls in the apartment.
"Who wants to get fucked?"
All the girls said, "I do, I do!"
"You see," said Mr. Rosen in the dim warm light of the fireplace to Mrs. Rigatta, "they all still want more. I will bet you that the drug's effect will last for hours."
"I agree. They are still pussy purring, cunt twitching, eager to be pierced or rubbed, eager to please us with their devirginated little man-traps." Rose was pretty picturesque with her language sometimes. As an English teacher, naturally she read a lot of books, and it made her quite poetic.
Mr. Rosen liked what she said about "pussy-purring," and that colloquial expression for a cunt "man-trap." That's what a girl's front hole is, it's a man-trap, he realized. A girl uses it to trap a man to support her while she doesn't lift a finger all her married life.
He didn't like thinking about marriage, for then he immediately thought about his dead wife, the wife that had enjoyed being spread, tied, and tortured. His beloved wife.
To make himself forget the pain of going to her funeral years ago, Mr. Rosen picked up the hot poker sticking in the fireplace and chased one of the little masked cunts around the room.
She screamed when he pinned her up the wall and burned her near her rectum, just a bit, of course, just a bit.
"Fuck her up the ass." Debbie handed him his slimy cock ring, but he had no more sperm, no more erection to rend the girl.
There was a limit to his get up and go. He just needed a little time to have his dork recuperate before he pierced the girls again.
"Well, if you won't fuck her, I will," Mrs. Rigatta said.
Her silken stockings and her black leather garter belt, her chain mail g-string and the whip in her hand, that whip that had hurt so many pupils that night, made her the picture of sadistic terror.
As Arthur Rosen watched, his fellow teacher strapped on a huge black dildo and shoved its convoluted barb-studded shaft up the bending over masked girl's ass crack. The girl in the mask gave a screech, but it only made Mrs. Rigatta move more ind more furiously in and out, in and out as the girl screamed.
Arthur tried to figure out who Rose was fucking with the painful dildo. It could have been any one of the girls. They were all about the same size, about five feet tall, and they all had nice little upturned breasts. He thought it was Anita, one of the girls he personally had squirted into, but he couldn't be sure. Not being sure made it nice.
It was nice to think that the little girl-children that were being hurt and sex abused were just objects. It made them even more sexy to be wearing strange Halloween masks. Arthur liked the idea of the lights being all the way down and trysting in the warm glow of the fireplace.
A cat-masked little girl-child came over and started rubbing her twitching ass against his dork, making it rise to attention. She said she wanted it. He didn't know which girl it was, but this one didn't have cunt hair. He shoved it in as she hung forward over the arm of a stuffed chair.
He humped and pumped and the little nymph grabbed and gasped, working her pelvis around in a quick penis-twisting arc, having spasms from head to foot. As he fucked madly away, he wondered what would happen to him after the wild party. With so many girls, girls of twelve and thirteen fucked and marked, it seemed un-likely that he wouldn't become notoriously arrested and sent up the river. Hell, he realized as he spouted a small amount of sperm into the bent masked anonymous body, they might execute me!
The thought of what would happen after that weird sexual Halloween party for the children he pushed from his mind. There are enough things today to worry about without worrying about tomorrow, he concluded. Besides, it was worth it, no matter what they did to him.
CHAPTER FIVE
Arthur fell asleep exhausted somewhere between the time that the parents called for the kids, and the time that the fire burned out. He awoke as sunlight struck through the narrow slits of the blinds, and turned his suit-dressed body over to find Mrs. Rigatta naked and snoring next to him.
He glanced around the room and then realized he had a horrible headache. He reached up and rubbed his messed hair then felt the stubble on his chin.
He tried to remember exactly what had happened the night before. Let's see, there was a party for the kids, a Halloween party. Everyone had a good time eating candy and playing pin the tail on the donkey. Mrs. Rigatta had helped him supervise the children and when the parents called for their little boys and girls, they thanked him for giving the children such a delightful, no!
Oh shit, oh shit, he thought. That was not what happened at all. What had really happened was that after dressing the sex-tortured children, once their throbbing needs for sexual satisfaction died out, the children had been picked up by their parents.
Mr. Rosen had played his one trump card before the parents arrived. He told the children that they had been sexually naughty and that he and the others were right in punishing them for their sins. He didn't mention to the guilty little ex-innocents that he had drugged them all to make them madly horny.
One at a time, the little brats, their sex parts dripping, had told him that if he would keep their misbehavior a secret, they would be ever grateful. Rich kids are so melodramatic. Anita even curtsied and kissed his hand as she begged him not to tell on her, and thanked him for properly thrashing her for her terrible sexual lusts.
The teacher was stern, but he forgave on the condition that the children had been made to promise not to be undressed in front of their parents until their scars disappeared.
All the scarring was rather superficial, he figured, except of course in their twisted psyches. He wondered what kind of sex lives the children would go on to have in later life.
So when the parents had come, the class was all neatly dressed and clean, and each had a bag of regular candy to bring home.
When the two adults were alone, they congratulated one another for the stunning evening of sexual pleasure, and Mrs. Rigatta had stripped. She had made Mr. Rosen fuck her up her anus again. It seemed that she had accidentally eaten a few pieces of the doped chocolate and gotten horny as a motherfucker for about twenty minutes.
After she had stripped in the wrecked apartment, which was littered with ripped bloody undies and pieces of rope and chain, she had unzipped him.
He was pretty exhausted. As a matter-of-fact, she mounted him and he actually fell asleep while she had pumped up and down furiously on him. She had just taken his dick out of his pants without undressing the fagged man.
Now it was clear why he had such a headache. If any one of those kids ever found out that they were doped to have sex, the police would find out. He woke Mrs. Rigatta and told her never to reveal that the party food was full of Spanish fly sex stimulants.
She agreed sleepily and closed her eyes.
Mr. Rosen did to her what she had done to him the "night before. He used her while she slept for his sexual appetite.
He just put her on her back and spread her unresisting legs and shoved it in her wet, wide pussy.
She thought she was dreaming. She didn't wake.
It was a Saturday, no school. Mr. Rosen, worrying about his sanity, helped Rose clear up the mess and generally straightened the apartment.
Blood stains, he realized, are hard to get out of the carpeting, but he finally found one type of cleanser under the sink that seemed to do the job.
Scrubbing all the surfaces of the house, hoping that the children wouldn't tell, he carpet swept and threw the bloody panties down the incinerator chute of the building.
The girls had gone home without panties for the most part, a most unfortunate occurrence, but it was better than sending them home with bloody panties.
Why do I get such a kick out of hurting and fucking the shit out of young children? He pondered the possibility that he might be deranged in some way as he unscrewed the wall rings and threw them into the waste chute. If the police saw those devices, they might believe the incredible story one of the children might blurt out.
As long as the kids feel guilty, as long as they feel that it was their lust that caused what happened last night, I'm safe, he reassured himself. Soon the apartment was clean.
The next day, Sunday, he and Mrs. Rigatta went to a pornographic movie, then to a nightclub. Arthur felt the sword of Damocles was hanging over his head. He was sure he would soon be arrested, and he shivered all the time.
However, with the redhead leading the way, he got roaring drunk for the first time in his life and woke up in bed.
"The cops had to carry you into the apartment last night. They were pretty nice about you throwing a bottle at them and screaming motherfuckers last night," she said. She stood over his naked body.
"I took the liberty of undressing you because you threw up all over your clothes. I explained to the police that your son had just been killed in the war, and that if you were arrested for being drunk, it would be unpatriotic of them. They were nice enough to drive us home. Of course I personally thanked them. Very personally."
"Thanks, Rose. Ow, my head. Did they club me?"
"No, but you fell about six times."
"Ow!"
"So, who is the lush now, smarty-cakes?" Monday was just another day at school. Mr.
Rosen wanted to leave the state, but he was convinced by the redhead that nothing must look suspicious, so he was back teaching the same pupils he had whipped and cunt-tortured two days earlier.
They acted as if nothing had happened. I almost changed what happened in my own mind, he thought, perhaps they have also suppressed the memory.
Whatever the situation, class went on as usual, as if nothing had happened. It went that way for three months until a trembling little Oriental girl came up to his desk after school.
"Yes Tambi, what is it?"
"I'm pregnant."
He hit the floor. She was twelve and he had gotten the cunt pregnant. Oh shit, he thought. Oh shit!
He told her not to worry, that he would figure out what to do. He went home and told Rose, Debbie, and Millie who were slapping each other's breasts while completely naked when he came in the door.
"Don't worry. I know a doctor in Jersey," Rose said.
"Is she the only one that got pregnant?" Rose was being very thorough or a little mean.
"I think so. At least she's the only one that told me."
"Well, I will drive her to Jersey on some pretext one day. It only takes an hour."
"Thanks."
"Thanks nothing! It will cost you."
"How much?"
"Five hundred."
"What?"
"Five hundred. One hundred bucks for the abortion and one hundred bucks for every year under seventeen years of age. That's what this doc charges."
"Outrageous!" His face reddened.
"It is, but he's the only doctor I know that will abort a twelve-year-old girl without raising an eyebrow. It is illegal, you know, to fuck a twelve-year-old."
"I don't see why it should be. After all, they have a pussy at age twelve."
"Nevertheless," frowned the redheaded naked temptress, "it is illegal."
"Well, I guess I have five hundred."
"You better have it, swine. I told you to always fuck them up the ass. That way there is no pregnancy and it hurts them more-that way, too. It trains them to be masochists. That's the way girls should be, you know. They should learn to appreciate pain before they are deflowered."
Arthur had to admit that Rose was right. He had been wrong to fuck them up their cunts. All the fucking little girls could have gotten pregnant for the devil's sake.
He got the money out of the bank the next day and Mrs. Rigatta arranged a geology field trip for the Oriental girl the next day in Jersey.
"How did it come out?" Arthur asked when Rose returned home.
"It came out fine. A nice dead embryo. It looked like you. I brought it home in a jar for you to look at."
"Oh shit! You didn't, I hope."
"Yes I did. You wanna see?"
"No! Good word, please throw it away. I won't fuck them up the vagina any more. I promise! Just get rid of it!"
She agreed that he wouldn't have to see it if he promised to be more careful.
"I will!"
That whole thing about Tambi's pregnancy disturbed him and depressed him for days. He felt as guilty as the kids in his class did now. He also understood why they never mentioned their sexual party to each other, or to him. It was better forgotten.
Twelve-year-old Tambi walked around the private school hallways with the glum look of a fallen woman. She was only twelve and she already was deflowered, marked, entered in the rear, breast bit, pussy tortured, and aborted! She felt that it had been all her fault.
She felt guilty about the urge to fuck that had come over her suddenly at the Halloween party. Mr. Rosen was so nice to punish her for that transgression. He was too nice to her. He even promised not to tell her parents, and when she had gotten pregnant through no fault of his, he even had paid for her abortion.
She would never forget that wonderful history instructor, that gem of a man who had helped her even after she had seduced him in her evil way at the party.
Could I be sexually deranged, she wondered. She hoped that she never again would lust for a man's dick in her holes. She decided to enter a monastery as soon as she was eighteen.
The other girls and the two boys also felt grateful to Mr. Rosen for his sincere attitude to them. He had promised that if they behaved, that if they remained good, he would not tell their parents about the horrible sexual passion they had engaged in, and he had kept his promise.
Of course, some of them wondered how it was that they were all so damned evil, all at the same time.
Mrs. Rigatta's big boobs swelled even bigger and she realized that she had skipped a few days of the pill and that she had to go to Jersey to see the doctor. She hoped he didn't charge a hundred bucks for each year over seventeen. She also knew that he fucked his patients front and rear the minute they were unconscious from the ether. It was his peculiar medical fetish. Everybody had a fetish.
She wouldn't mind if the trembling hands of the old doctor got his jollies off by shoving his worm into her before he aborted her, but she really knew he was dangerous with a knife. He only could operate after he had about six Scotches on the rocks, and even then his hand shook.
No. He was good enough for the twelve-year-old Tambi, but she would have to have a better doctor, and she knew where there was one-Florida-It fit in perfectly with her plans, and Arthur promised to take her to Cape Kennedy to watch the space rockets take off. The doctor was in Clearwater, Florida, only a few hours away. He charged a lot, but he accepted credit cards.
So, the day after she realized she was pregnant, she put it to the man instructor. "Listen Artie, you promised to take me to Florida I want to go next week. We have vacations coming to us and I want to go."
The history teacher looked the stacked broad up and down. He had promised her, that was true, but he had also made plans with Millie. He had promised to take Millie away with him, to live in the South, ostensibly as man and daughter, but really for sex, too.
"Okay," he told the redhead, "I'll get the tickets."
She hugged and kissed him.
He took a shower and as he stood in the splashing warm water, he remembered the time he had promised crying little blonde Millie that he would take her with him away, far away. He decided right then, as he thought about Millie, that he was going to do it. He would dump his job and Rose and take the lovely blonde child out of state.
The only thing was, he didn't know how to go about it. Let's see, he said to himself while lathering under his armpits, I can just take her direct from school, not tell anyone. We would land in Florida before her parents would miss her. Then they could do all the searching they want.
He knew of a cheap cabin colony where a mustached man and his black-haired daughter wouldn't be noticed. They could look high and low for him and Millie, but with their disguises, and with the sizable amount of money he had saved, they would never find him.
Rose can go get fucked or go back to her husband. I don't care. Love is more important than anything, and I love Millie.
Millie was indeed the loveliest of all the children in his classes. She looked even better than Debbie, and Millie had no cunt hair. That appealed to him a lot She looked really young and innocent. She liked to have a little pain now and then while he fucked her.
Rose was pounding on the bathroom door, asking him what was taking so long. He jacked off thinking of Millie while the redhead screamed to be let in to take a bath and a piss.
He bought tickets that evening. Rose thought they were for her and the man teacher. She didn't know they were Miami, not Cape Kennedy, either. The redhead kissed him at the travel agency and she gave him his heart's desire that evening.
All the tame that night while he fucked the redheaded teacher, he thought of blonde little Millie, of her upturned little nipples, her pale thin thighs, her hairless cunt, her winsome smile, her crying.
His escape to paradise with Millie didn't work out.
Rose had checked about the time of departure with the travel agency, and it was too early, one p.m.
So, the redhead did a little checking and found Mr. Rosen walking out of school at lunch time with a stuffed flight bag and little Millie at his side.
"Where you going, bub?" Rose was standing at the corner Mr. Rosen was startled, and he said nothing.
"I said where are you and little old blondie headed?"
Well, Mr. Rosen realized that the jig was up, and the forlorn spring and fall couple went back to the school.
Arthur had said something about taking the afternoon off with Millie to go shopping, but it was a pretty thin excuse. She wouldn't have caught him. She wouldn't have been waiting for him at the corner, if she hadn't known.
When classes for the day were over, the two girl-children, Millie and Debbie, were told to go home by Mrs. Rigatta, and then she took a taxi with Mr. Rosen to the travel agency to change the tickets for the next day's flight. It looked like he had to take Rose to Florida after all.
The reason for Mrs. Rigatta's desire to go south vanished that night She had her long delayed period, so she wasn't pregnant They cancelled the tickets. She never explained why she changed her mind about Florida, but she did say she would keep an eye on Mr. Rosen and Millie from then on.
Oh well, thought Mr. Rosen, perhaps I don't want to be a fugitive hiding behind a mustache in Floriday anyway.
That night since Rose was having her period, and she disliked sex when she was having her period, there was no sex. She had told Millie and Deb to stay home and Mr. Rosen went for a walk instead of whipping and fucking the children and Mrs. Rigatta.
Walking around the dark streets of New York is not exactly the safest thing to do. The city is full of crazed dope fiends anxious to kill for a few bucks so they can buy heroin.
Mr. Rosen had a brown belt in karate, so he wasn't afraid. Most junkies, if they had a gun, would sell it so they could get a bag of dope. They usually had only knives. Anyone bothering me with a knife will be in trouble, said the teacher to himself as he strode the sidewalks.
He had been all alone for years, alone and just walking around like he was now, he thought It was only in the last month that he had been in the constant company of Millie and Debbie and Mrs. Rigatta.
He walked down to Houston Street, one of the darker places in the city, intending to go all the way down through Little Italy and to Chinatown, perhaps to buy a cup of coffee.
Most people don't know it, but the best coffee in New York at reasonable prices is to be found in Chinatown. Also, the Chinese usually use real cream or at least milk in their coffee, instead of the chemical non-dairy cream that most restaurants now use. The chemical creams made Mr. Rosen sick to his stomach.
When will people learn, he was thinking as he passed the corner of Mulberry and Houston Streets. When will people learn not to pay outrageous prices for a cup of coffee?
When will people realize that their stomachs are not junk yards, that you can't put all sorts of weird substances into them? If only people would read the labels of the foods they buy, then they would see what kinds of chemical poisons the packers put in the food to make it look or smell good. Those chemicals were probably responsible for a lot of infirmities in American workers.
The Chinese know what to eat. They eat vegetables. All sorts of fresh vegetables grown in manure, not in chemically fertilized fields full of insect killing sprays. Those sprays leave a residual deposit on the vegetables most Americans eat, affecting their health.
He realized that he was thinking about food so much, and praising Chinese food because he was getting pretty hungry. Having her period made Rose depressed. It does that to some women. She hadn't made a meal at the apartment. It was only a few blocks, about ten, to Chinatown from where Mr. Rosen was walking, and he quickened his pace.
He passed the Broome Street Italian restaurants, the good smelling bakeries and the fruit and vegetable stands that are so colorful. They were closing for the night.
They were afraid, he realized. The stands, the bakeries used to stay open later. It was the crime, the tripling of the crime rate in the past few years. The storekeepers were afraid of the dark now, afraid of the junkies, the stick-up men, the murderers that stalked the streets.
It's so sad, he thought, that a whole city lives in terror. The police did little except keep a modicum of security and order during the day, but at night....
Besides, the police can be crooked, too. It starts with just taking a few bucks not to give a driver a ticket for double parking. The next thing a policeman does is get a few gifts, a few bucks, for Christmas. Then he gets deeper and deeper into bribes. Pretty soon he is in so deeply that he is practically a slave, an employee of the syndicate, of the pushers who bribe him, of the numbers and gambling racketeers.
Having crooked policemen, policemen that perhaps would help you if they saw you being robbed, but are paid to protect dope pushers. That was the real cause of the crime.
If only something could be done to keep cops honest, then there would be no way for the syndicate to spread its heroin tentacle into every corner of New York.
Mr. Rosen stopped to buy an apple. They were fifteen cents now. They used to be a nickel.
Eating the apple, he continued down Mulberry Street, and he began to see the Italian signs disappearing and Chinese signs became more abundant. He was on the outskirts of the Chinese area.
He passed a policeman, a policeman that could or could not be honest. You couldn't tell. There are so many absolutely honest cops, but the ten or twenty percent that get caught up in bribery, that wind up public enemies for a few dollars extra money, that was a tragedy.
He was famished. He went to a place he used to take his wife to, a place called Bim Becks, a little luncheonette type of place, but where the food was good and also cheap.
He had Sang Chop Mein, a specialty of the house, for only a dollar fifty cents. That included tea, as much as he could drink.
Burping and picking his teeth, the latter being unacceptable to the Chinese in public, he walked down Mott Street and looked in the window of the Chinese temple. There were men inside reading newspapers and smoking cigars. Of course they didn't sit in the altar section of the temple, but rather on folding chairs near the window.
It was nice being alone again, nice to get out of the house without Mrs. Rigatta tagging along.
There was less crime in Chinatown than in most sections of the city. It was nice to walk around there, too. The streets were crowded with tourists and Chinese businessmen and workers, all intent on going to or coming from some place.
Maybe, Mr. Rosen thought, maybe I could just stop having this thing I have for torturing twelve-and thirteen-year-olds. Maybe I could just fuck them. Maybe torturing them is some sort of problem I have.
If I had gone to Florida with Millie, perhaps I could have just fucked her instead of hurting her and degrading her. She liked pain, though. She liked it a lot. Debbie liked pain and humiliation, too. It would be bad if I didn't give them what they want and need.
"Excuse me," said a disheveled looking bum. Mr. Rosen had wandered over to the Bowery. "Can you spare a quarter for a cup of coffee or a half for a bowl of soup?"
Arthur looked the man up and down. He looked like he had slept in a pile of soot and he obviously had urinated inside his torn trousers, as they were wet. It is terrible what alcohol can do to a man.
He probably really will just buy wine, Arthur thought. It would be bad if I just gave him the money. I would just be contributing to his downfall.
The teacher had an idea. There was a fleabag dingy restaurant right on the corner and still open. "Come on, bub, I'll buy you a meal."
"Thanks, but can't you just let me have a few bucks instead?"
"So you can booze it up? Are you kidding? It is a meal on me or nothing at all."
The bum accepted and while Mr. Rosen had coffee next to him, the bum ate some roast beef and potatoes, plus spinach. Mr. Rosen felt like he was helping and not helping destroy the man.
The bum thanked him. Mr. Rosen walked away saying, "Forget it, glad to help out."
He walked up the Bowery, looking at the droves of old men sleeping in doorways and the rats running along the curb. The rats would nibble on a man if he was dead. They would gnaw. It was disgusting that in the richest country in the world there was such a shame, such a lack of concern that such things could exist. Millions were spent on bombs and bullets, he thought, but people were lying shoeless in the gutters.
People would say that it was the men's fault. Perhaps it is, in part, but alcoholism is a disease, just as diabetes is. An alcoholic is less of a threat to the lives of the citizens than a junkie, but both are equally addicted people. The alcoholic kills only when he is driving; the junkie must rob or even kill all the time.
He walked past Third Street and gradually the street changed from the Bowery to a classy neighborhood. Of course, in all classy neighborhoods in New York there are old men and women in tatters eating pieces of food out of garbage cans. A few of them are crazy, but most of them are just hungry, and hunger drives them to eat the rich people's garbage.
Some people don't believe that there are droves of people eating garbage late at night, alone and afraid, without a place to sleep or even lie down. Now that the unemployment had risen, there were more than ever.
Arthur, depressed despite the good meal he had, and despite the fact that he had helped one man through the night with a decent meal, walked home.
Does the President know this? Can the rich spend millions on yachts when people all over New York are sleeping in doorways and eating garbage?
He told Rose, who was a pretty cruel woman, about his long depressing walk.
"Tough shit," she said. "Those people are no concern of mine. Everyone has to make it on his or her own. Fuck them. Who cares?"
Rose and Arthur got into an argument that ended with Rose spread-eagled on the bed with a gag on and a table leg jammed up her bloody cunt.
"How do you like your wooden cunt plug, Rose?" smirked the stripped man, as he twisted it in her pussy. "I think it is much better than those sanitary napkins. More becoming."
Then he stepped back and took the lash and whipped her breasts until he fell exhausted.
The next morning he left her tied and went to work alone. A day alone spread on the bed without food will teach the scum-sucking bitch, he thought. I hope she has hunger cramps like those people she doesn't care about who have to eat garbage.
Feeling sanctimonious, Arthur entered the school and found his class dismissed and a policeman in uniform sitting in his chair. He gulped.
"May I help you?" he managed to say. He figured there was little chance that the cop was there to just say hello. One of the tortured children must have talked, he thought.
"Yes," smiled the cop. "I understand that you were downtown last night, on the Bowery."
That was a surprise! What could they possibly care? "I was."
"Well, there was a man you spoke to in a diner, a real greasy spoon. Do you know who I mean?"
"Yes."
"Well, the counterman heard you talking to him. That's how come we got your name, and the place you work. The counterman is a friend of ours. He said you were talking about there being something wrong with this country, right?"
So that was it! "Well, not exactly."
The cop frowned and put his shoes up on the desk, scattering delaney cards. "Well, we guys on the force, a small group of us on our own, you know, have this thing. We don't like no commie gook-lovers, you understand?"
"Yes." The teacher was frightened. He sat down in one of the chairs of the students. "I didn't mean to criticize...."
"But you did! Commie pinko creep! You did. You said you don't like what's going on in this country. Ain't that so?"
"Not exactly. I said I wished more was spent to help feed and clothe the poor and help the sick, and build hospitals and day care centers for children and-"
"Shut the fuck up! I'm gonna keep an eye on you, commie weirdo. I don't like you creep-type pinkos teaching our kids. You probably are making a bunch of weirdo-pinko creeps out of all of them, subvertin' the country that gives you all the freedom that you abuse!"
"Shut up!" The super-patriot cop stood up, towering over Mr. Rosen. "You had better watch your step. The pinko administration of this city might think it's okay to be a pinko-weirdo, but I don't. You hip?"
The cop grabbed him by the collar and Mr. Rosen agreed with the officer. "Yes ... I'm sorry. I won't do it again."
"You had better not, pinko. If you do, I'll be back. You're lucky this is the U.S. of A. If it wasn't, I would kick you in the nuts for what you said the other night about this country. And stop buying degenerates food!"
He slammed the door.
Then another cop came in about a minute later. He said he was the partner of the cop that had talked so tough. "I'm sorry about my partner, see. Please don't report him. His kid got killed in the war by gooks and he has gone a little, well, funny. You know?"
Mr. Rosen said he understood. The second cop shook his hand and said, "If there's anything I can do, just call Charlie, that's me, at the precinct house. I wanna thank you again."
"Okay. If I need any help, I won't hesitate, Charlie."
The second cop walked out Mr. Rosen wondered if the police knew he was a sex-torturer of little girls. He wondered if they were just trying to torture him themselves. He found it difficult to believe that a conversation with a bum on the Bowery could get him in trouble.
The next class came in and the principal with them. He asked Mr. Rosen to step out in the hall for a moment He did.
"Listen," said the grey-haired man, "is everything all right? A peculiar cop came into my office and said I should fire you as a subversive pinko. Then a short cop came in a minute later and told me to forget it. What's going on?"
"Beats me," said Mr. Rosen. "Anyway, I think they won't come around again."
"Please be sure they don't. It doesn't look good."
The rest of the day was uneventful.
At home, this time with Debbie and Millie with him, he untied Mrs. Rigatta. She complained about missing a day's pay and about holding her urine and about being hungry.
"So, go ahead and piss and eat. As far as the money goes, you mustn't be so acquisitive." Mr. Rosen had all the answers.
"It's an acquisitive society!" screeched Rose as she ran to the John to piss.
"True," he yelled after her, "but you should be concerned with the finer things in life."
From in the bathroom came her voice. "Money buys the finer things."
She had to have the last word. Arthur knew that.
Debbie and Millie undressed one another and started rubbing cunts.
"Hey, you two!" said Mr. Rosen to the writhing, naked cunts on the bed. "What are you two, a bunch of lesbians? Let me get a piece of the action."
"Sure," said Debbie, turning over and spreading her legs so that he could see her wet, throbbing pussy lips. "Come on in."
Millie spread wide next to her and said, "Me first."
He chose Millie, so Debbie got mad while he was pumping away in the brat and she got the whip. Debbie began beating the both of them and the noise brought Mrs. Rigatta, with a turd still hanging from her ass crack, waddling in from the John. "Wait for me!"
So the vfour of them started squirming around on the big creaking bed, shoving their fingers into every fleshy aperture and licking everything that their tongues were near, in an inextricable pile. No one knew who was doing what to whom.
Moaning and groaning, tangled and heaving, churning and gasping, the four-body mass of sexed-up flesh on the bed spurted and dripped, groaned and struggled, jabbed and twisted, until the bunch of them broke the springs in a titanic simultaneous climax.
"Man, we broke the fucking bed!" Debbie shouted.
"Sure did," chuckled Rose. "I guess that was a record short squirm for all of us."
"Yeah. I never came so quickly," Millie added.
"I wanna do it again," pleaded insatiable raven-haired Debbie.
They did it again, but it didn't work out. Mr. Rosen's dick didn't rise and Rose was apathetic. They got out of the fallen bed and left the girls to play with each other.
"I guess we are getting old and don't have their energy," commented the exhausted naked man with the very limp but long dick.
"Yeah, we're old timers compared to those sex-mad kids of ours."
The adults went into the bathroom to take a shower together. It was easier to scrub one another's backs than it was to scrub their own.
Back in the bedroom all clean and dressed, the adults watched the sex play. When they were finished, the girls dressed and Debbie suggested something.
Tambi, the girl that had been aborted, had expressed the desire to move in with them. Her mother had died the week before, and her father had split for the coast, Deb explained, so no one would look for Tambi. They could fuck and hurt the chick all the time.
So it was that the pretty twelve-year-old Oriental girl became the fifth person at the house. She was a real sex maniac. She had fucked a lot of the boys at school after she had been deflowered at the Halloween party, and she even ordered a big strap-on dildo from a magazine so she could help out Debbie and Millie.
Mr. Rosen was elated because he had a twelve-year-old living with him all the time. Millie and Deb had to go home very night because of their parents.
Rose got her jollies with the little dark-haired girl also, taking her repeatedly in the rear with a big strap-on dildo of her own, while Mr. Rosen watched and the other naked little girls jerked him off.
The Oriental girl had completely changed. She had no longer any interest in studies, though Mr. Rosen and Mrs. Rigatta continued giving her straight A's.
Each night, like on one particular night, the gifted child sat naked and spread and told a story. At first the sexy tales were only to amuse her fellow girls, Deb and Millie. Soon, however, the tales were so erotic and interesting that the adults sat watching the girl rub her cunt and tell her stuff.
Tambi told a story about a girl named Louise, a girl in Mr. Rosen's class. She had a funny nose, said Tambi, but the girl had big knockers and fucked like a bunny.
Louise fucked with her brother, said Tambi. As she rubbed her bud-like clit, the girl spoke of how she had peered through a window at Louise's first floor apartment and watched a sex scene.
The brother, sixteen, with a big hairy dork covered with throbbing blue veins had taken Louise who had spread on the bed. Louise's cunt had been dripping, sopping wet and wide and he slipped easily into her. They huffed and puffed and their sexual release soon came, said Tambi, nearing her own climax from her rubbing.
Mr. Rosen pushed the naked twelve-year-old to the bed, and while he shoved into her rectum, he asked her to arrange for Louise to visit them. The Oriental golden girl agreed.
Stupidly, since the wall rings had been thrown out, Arthur decided to hang Mrs. Rigatta up and sexually abuse her. The girls helped put her up on the window sill and tied her with the cords of the Venetian blind. The problem was that each time she was hit, the blinds opened, but they were so horny they didn't care. Arthur whipped the busty naked and gagged woman's big pale thighs on the insides.
Arthur repeated that action, and a second thin line of blood appeared. Then he really got down to work, and lashed Rose's thighs again and again. Soon her thighs were one solid bleeding mass of aching flesh, and the blood trickled down her legs in many thin streams. Rose was groaning and had her eyes closed.
Then he worked his way upward on her body, deciding to give her as thorough a whipping as he had ever done in the past. He struck across the bulging area of her mound. The whip cut deeply into that part of her, and soon a stream of blood had risen to the top of the curly tendrils on her hair pie.
Each time he struck this area, the female twitched and jerked at the end of her fetters. Finally able to stand it no more, she screamed out shrilly. Arthur had a miniature orgasm when he heard that sound, and increased his efforts at whipping her, continuing to work upward along her lush body.
At last he reached the area of her bouncing boobies. He lay the leather thong across the swollen titties again and again, working himself into a frenzy as he did so, for what seemed liked hours. He had expended all his energy and could whip her no more. He had reduced her tits to a bloody pulp and the blood coursed freely down her sides.
Rose had passed out, and her body had slumped down. She was suspended by her arms at the ends of those cords now. Unbeknownst to George, however, during the time that he had been enjoying himself beating Rose, several neighbors had chanced to walk by the sidewalk in front of the residence.
That in itself was not an unusual occurrence, but unfortunately for him the neighbors had happened to glance up at the third story window inside where Rose hung while Arthur was chastising her. At first they could not believe their eyes at the sight they thought they saw, but as they were induced into staring longer, they finally trusted their eyes and came to the horrible conclusion that he was torturing a nude woman and had suspended her from the Venetian blinds in his house.
Then their minds dredged up the fact that two of the teachers pupils had dropped out of school a while ago and had not been seen around since. As they recalled all these facts, the neighbors became horribly suspicious of the things that were going on in the household.
They sped home to discuss the things that they had seen and to try to come to a conclusion about what to do. Meanwhile, inside the house, Arthur had stopped whipping. He poked the riding crop into the sopping wet hole of the unconscious cunt, then yanked it out again and dropped it.
He picked up the chastity belt and unlocked it. Carefully he slipped the crosspiece under the girl's fanny and between her bleeding legs. He pulled the heavy metal belt around her waist, and pulled the crosspiece up over her injured pussy. Pulling all the pieces of the cruel device together, he locked them shut. He left her hanging there.
Rose would be in for quite a surprise when she regained consciousness and found her three holes locked up and out of commission, until he decreed that they could come out for fresh air. He gave the scene one last look and walked out the door.
Arthur recalled that day quite well, but that had been some time ago and the girls had by now become accustomed to being prisoners, and to wearing the heavy metal pussy containers. Anita would get her turn next Unknown to him, Tambi had been having a lot of fun with her hand-crafted, strap-on penis which she had finally received in the mail after many weeks of agonized waiting.
At first after she had gotten it, she had worn it all the time. She had been unable to restrain herself from doing that, even though the slapping of the big member between her legs kept her in a constant state of hominess such as even she had never experienced before. She knew she was taking a risk when she allowed herself the luxury of having her very own prick right between her legs twenty-four hours a day.
She had learned her lesson about that though. It had happened in the supermarket one day. She was wearing the strap-on, and was enjoying the feel of the way the leather belt which held it on rubbed against her bony hips with each step she took. She had been wheeling her grocery cart up and down the aisles, minding her own business when suddenly it struck.
It was the most incredible spasm of lust she had ever felt, and it shot through her in a split second, reducing her to nothing but one giant, throbbing desire to be fucked. She realized later that this horrible state of urgency had been produced by the constant rubbing, smacking sensations she had been experiencing beneath her skirt.
When the desire hit her in the supermarket she went wild. She had to do something fast, or she felt she would die. The spasms from her cunt were already so strong that they were causing her a great deal of difficulty in breathing. She raced up and down the aisles pushing her shopping cart looking in desperation for something that would relieve her.
One after another she tried many of her old tricks that had always worked before when she had become horny in the supermarket. First she went by the vegetable bin and picked up a package of hearts of celery. She stripped off the plastic wrapping, and hoping no one would notice, she reached up between her legs and slipped it into her gash.
The leafy green foliage had stimulated her big, hanging clit with every step that she took, but instead of making her come, which was always what happened before, the cool stalks of vegetable up her cunt only increased her desire all the more. Tambi developed a crazed look in her eye, and angrily yanked the hearts of celery out of her hole.
She strode up and down the aisles even more vigorously, abandoning the wire cart with her groceries in it. Then she saw what looked like it could be the answer. It was a life-sized, cardboard cut-out of a cowboy. It had a motor attached to the back of it which was fastened to the cowboy's right arm.
He was busily drawing his long barreled six-shooter and reinserting it in his holster, all of which was powered by the small motor on the back of him. Tambi knew what she was going to do with that gun. As unobtrusively as possible, she inched her body closer and closer to the cardboard gun which slowly moved back and forth, out of the holster and pushed about two feet away from the cowboy's body and then back into the holster.
When she got her quim lined up on the trajectory, she hoisted the front of her skirt to her navel, pulled the strap-on over to one side, and spread her legs, having to crouch down slightly. The gun was pulled out of the holster and moved towards her. The cardboard arm shoved the cardboard gun all the way up her cunt, then slowly pulled out and away from her, retreating into the holster.
The machine operated in this way several times. But suddenly the most bizarre thing that had ever happened to her cunt in its entire life happened to it. The cardboard six-shooter, having become somewhat soggy with the juices of her hair pie, had somehow fouled up, and in a memorable flash of electricity, the small motor had short-circuited. The current of electricity shot through Tambi's body, which had known every kind of sensation, and shook her with jolts of current before hurling her ten feet away.
When her eyelids finally fluttered open she was lying in the middle of the aisle, the manager of the store holding her head and slapping her sunken cheeks, trying to bring her back to consciousness. Not bothering to figure out what they all thought of her, Tambi had run out of there as fast as she could.
Now she only wore her strap-on for special occasions, and she considered today one of those occasions. She wanted to get in on the action with Louise. She had told George everything she knew about Louise, that she fucked her brother almost every night, and that she was considered a whore in school. She hoped he would reward her for her information.
At that moment Anita came in the front door, and Arthur waylaid her with a big kiss and invited her into his house to have a heart-to-heart talk. Tambi longed to get inside with them, but Arthur shut the door in her face. He was boiling inside at the thought of not being the first one to get into the twelve-year-old girl's quim.
There was only one way to find out if Tambi's story was true. Suddenly he whirled around upon Louise and planted the toe of his shoe firmly in the center of her spongy cunt Louise screamed at the pain and collapsed on the floor, clutching her hands to her pussy. She realized that it was all over for her.
Her teacher knelt down beside her. He picked up one of her big tits and closed his fingernails around it Such things had happened to Louise many times before but she had never expected such acts to be done to her by her teacher. Now her entire image of him was changed.
As he dug his fingers deep into her soft, weak flesh, she realized that he was not the untouchable god she had always imagined him to be, but that he was a lot more like the school doctor or the English teacher. This discovery was worse than any punishment he might inflict on her. The one stable factor in her life was shattered.
Arthur pulled her sweater briskly over her head, giving her shapely boobs a shaking up. They shook up and down as if they were suspended from rubber bands. In no time at all he had stripped her down for action. He took off his own clothes and stood nude before her in his full magnificence. His prick had grown hard in spite of his disgust at his daughter's debauchery.
To test the girl's story, he slipped his hands between Anita's thighs and then slid one finger up her cunt hole. It went in easily. When that happened, he knew that Tambi had been telling the truth, because it had always been hard for him to enter a girl-child's box for the first time.
He slipped another finger up her. Her hole gaped around his fingers.
"Just how big is your cunt?" he asked her angrily. She had taken all the joy out of his game. He lost all desire to fuck her. Then he saw Tambi spying on them through the open door.
"Tambi!" he exclaimed jovially, but fooling no one. "Why don't you come join us?"
She didn't need to be told twice. Immediately she entered through the doorway. As she did so, her skirt caught on the door frame and was pulled up, revealing the big strap-on prick hanging between her skinny thighs. When George saw it he guffawed.
"Well, suck my dick," he finally managed to exclaimed. He decided to be generous about the situation. "You do her, Tambi," he said, getting up to leave the room. "I'm sick of this whore."
He went to his desk, and out of one of the side drawers picked up the chastity belt, and threw it at Louise's face. It missed. He held up the key in front of Tambi, then dropped it into her neckline where it was caught by the tight black lace bra and held there snugly between her winsome tits. He turned on his heel and walked out of the room watching out of the corner of his eye as the girl fell upon his pupil, pumping the big, artificial machine into her and slobbering all over her boobies.
CHAPTER SIX
Every activity stopped dead the minute the doorbell rang, and the females all disappeared into the back room and Mr. Rosen, calm, dressed, and collected answered the door after a minute. It was the police.
"Is there something wrong in here?" a cop said. "We got an anonymous call from a woman who said she was a neighbor. You are Mr. Rosen?"
"Yes. I am a school teacher."
"Well, we get a lot of crank calls. This woman swore that there was a score of naked women being tortured in here." The cop laughed. "How can you figure some people? What imaginations some of those cranks have, but we have to check. Everything is all right, isn't it?"
Mr. Rosen laughed, grateful that whoever had seen the events had been too cowardly to leave a name. Cops don't give anonymous calls much credit for telling the truth. They have too many anonymous callers.
"Well, well see you Mr. Rosen." The cop laughed as he walked down the stairs, mumbling.
Mr. Rosen slammed the door and gasped. Another close call!
The females, some dressed, others stark naked and clearly marked, came out of the back room.
Allison, the sophisticated little cunt, came to live with them also. The big apartment was becoming crowded.
There were four bedrooms, three of which Mr. Rosen had never used much of at all, so they were swept out and cleaned.
Allison was beautiful naked, and she was a good screamer. Her parents had trusted her . foolishly to Mrs. Rigatta when the father got a job in Arabia as a diplomat for the U.S. Government. Rose, of course, broke the girl's sexual resistance down and pretty soon she was a regular part of the growing family.
Arthur began calling it a family. He had to. The neighbors were getting suspicious about all the little girl children he kept in the apartment He said that his first wife, Rose supposedly being the second, had died. He said his first wife had kept his kids while she was alive, but now they had returned to live with him and Rose.
It looked a little strange because one of the kids was Chinese, but he said that his wife played around a lot and that's why he had divorced her. Stranger things than that can happen, so they believed him.
Ali, as they called Allison, had two little sisters, eight and nine, who also came to live there. They were too young to molest. Arthur decided to wait until their twelfth birthday.
So now he was a "father" and the girls were his "daughters!"
Harry, one of the boys from class, came to live there, too!
Things had come to a head in the teachers family, and there appeared to be a crisis brewing. Arthur had received ten phone calls in the past week from neighbors that he had forgotten were still alive. He had totally forgotten about everything outside of his own house; he had become so engrossed in his children in the past months.
The neighbors who called him were not just making friendly, neighborly calls, however. They were calling up to complain to him about certain suspicions they had concerning what was going on in his house. They seemed to have some of the story pretty straight, but he wondered how on earth they could have gotten hold of it.
He thought he had always kept things pretty quiet with a fairly orderly house. Now these complaints worried him and even made him a little afraid. If they had at any time gone to the police, it would have been curtains for him. Therefore, he knew he had to play his cards right, as far as the neighbors were concerned. He thought hard, trying to think of a good plan to appease them.
Any common excuse would not satisfy them if they were onto him. No, he would do something more along the lines of bribery. But he would have to give them such an unforgettable gift that they would be grateful to him forever, living their lives in the expectation that if they licked his ass a lot, he might be kind enough to give them the wonderful gift again.
Arthur paced about trying to come up with a bribe that would shut the prying neighbors up forever. He also had other things on his mind, because here it was December, and today his daughter Laura would be coming home from college and spending two weeks with the family. Arthur had to handle this situation carefully.
If he worked it right, these could turn out to be two weeks which would revolutionize Laura's life. He imagined her lying beside him at night in his big double bed, her violated body chained by the arms and legs to the bedposts. If he could maneuver her into that position, he would be the happiest man on earth. He had to watch his step, though.
He had to pick her up at the train station in two hours. He wondered what would be the first thing that he could do which would get her on his side, set up her seduction. He had no idea how to subtly work his way into a woman's pants anymore, being entirely accustomed to using brute force to get what he wanted. He had been spoiled by the ease with which he could control his girls.
His mind darted back again to the problem of the neighbors. Why couldn't those fucking prudes get off his back? Just becaause they were hung up and couldn't have any fun playing with their cocks and pussies, did that mean he couldn't have any fun with his? Then it dawned on him. If they were to enjoy themselves the way he did, they would no longer point an accusing finger at him.
They would be too busy stuffing their cocks up their boxes, or buggering the springy asses of sweet young girls to have any time or inclination to police him. What he would have to do, would be to show them a day of fun and games, a day of complete liberation right there in the privacy of their own homes. He had the best little whores in the whole town living under his roof and they would do whatever he told them.
He was so pleased with this plan that he immediately ordered Tambi to call up all the people who had lodged complaints against him and invite them over to the house the following Saturday night to air their grievances and to talk things over, along with anyone else who called between then and Saturday. It would be the ugliest display of debauchery that the house had ever seen.
Not only would the good citizens be sodden with the pleasure and perversion they would experience, but the next day when they remembered the degrading things they had done, they would be so fear-ridden and guilty they they wouldn't dare to mention again what had gone on in his house, at any time. Fear and guilt were the key words.
Glancing at the clock, he saw it was time to go and pick up Laura at the train station. The front of his pants bulged out in expectation. He stood at the foot of his big, warm fireplace and called the girls. "Who wants to go to the train station to meet their big sister, Laura?" There was not much of a response. He remembered a little anxiously that Rose and Deb and Louise would probably not be able to go even if they wanted to.
They were so amoral by this time that they ran about sexed-up with only their chastity belts on, the big boobs flopping around with their every movement, their pudgy twats squeezed out on either side of the metal crotch of the device. It would not be a reassuring sight for Laura to see his children that way.
Thinking to clean up the situation a little, Arthur dashed in the back and ran to Rose's room. All the sisters were huddled around the T.V. set looking like a bunch of nubile zombies.
"Get dressed right away, you sluts!" He shouted at them, "You're sister's coming home for a visit and I don't want her to see you with your hairy pussies spread open for anyone to see and your fat tits flapping in the wind!"
They took the hint. They got up to search for some clothes to put on. While they were doing that, George ran into the little girls' room to take them with him to meet Laura's train. He also found Harry and little Artie. All of them went downstairs somewhat glumly and piled into the car. Their constant nightly exercising was sapping their energy and stunting their growth.
The children all looked peaked and had dark circles under their eyes. Only Arthur appeared to be in good health with bright eyes, flushed skin, and exuding energy and vitality. He could hardly stay inside his pants as he rushed down to the station. When they got there the train had just arrived and the Rosen family inspected everyone who disembarked, watching for Laura.
After everyone had gotten off, the train pulled out of the station and they stared around in disbelief. Laura seemed not to have been on the train because there was no one there that even vaguely resembled their sister. None of them knew what to do and Arthur felt his hard-on going down in disappointment. Then the air was pierced by a shrill cry which sounded like Laura's voice.
"Daddy, Harry, Deb, Tambi!!" the voice cried out They all turned around to see if their sister had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. They were shocked at the girl they saw standing before them. It was a ragged, barefoot bum.
"What do you mean, Daddy?" Arthur asked the dirty girl.
"Don't you recognize me? I'm Laura." The girl who claimed to be Laura looked around at them and burst into loud gales of hysterical laughter as if she thought this situation was the funniest thing in the world. Arthur studied her more carefully and saw to his surprise that this girl actually seemed to resemble his eldest daughter. Her eyes and hair were the same color, she was of the same height and build and her face had familiar features.
But this girl standing in front of him now was wearing faded jeans which had many holes in them at very provocative places. There was a rip in the center of the crotch and George saw with astonishment that her hair pie was partially revealed, the curling wisps of hair poking unashamedly over the rims of the hole.
Laura seemed not to care whether anyone noticed her cunt at all. She was also wearing a torn, dirty sweater which fit tightly around her overflowing figure. The sweater looked like it had shrunk in the wash and there was a three-inch span of white, warm flesh exposed between the bottom of the sweater and the top of the jeans.
The sweater squeezed her tits tightly, mashing them together like big cotton balls. The nipples pushed out against the fabric and Arthur could have swom that the friction between nipple and sweater had worn a hole almost directly over her big, jutting nipples, and that he could catch a glimpse of the saucy pleasure point exposed for all the world to see.
Her hair was matted and thick as if it had not been combed in weeks, but the most outstanding feature of the girl was the incredible smell pouring from every crevice of her body. It almost knocked Arthur over when he got to within a foot of her.
"Are you really Laura?" he faltered.
"Of course I'm Laura," she answered annoyedly. "Times change. Life goes on. All of us change all the time." She looked at him accusingly when she said that.
"I know, I know," Arthur mumbled completely knocked off his guard. He could not tear his eyes away from her teasing nipple and bold pussy hairs.
They all got back into the car to drive home, Arthur walking directly behind Laura, inspecting her wriggling ass. The new Laura's ass was just as big as the old Laura's ass with the exception that this Laura's ass seemed to hang down considerably farther and swing in an arc from side to side when she walked. Each time she put her foot down, a wave of motion travelled up each round cheek.
Arthur watched in fascination the spectacle that her fanny put on for him, made all the more enticing by the holes in the seat of her pants, which fit tightly across her protruding rump, causing the flesh to bulge out wherever there was a hole. Little puffy mounds of fanny flesh bespeckled her backside. The waistband of the jeans hung low, showing off the crevice between the cheeks squeezing tightly together and pushing up over the top. Arthur regained his hard-on immediately upon seeing her privates entertain him like that. He wanted to jam his pecker into her well-padded bunghole that very minute and bugger her for hours in the train station. But since he'd already received all those complaints from the neighbors, he thought he had better be a little more cool about it.
He could let it all out later at the party he was going to throw. Driving home he arranged it so that Laura was sitting right next to him in the crowded car and found many opportunities to pat her round thighs and to jiggle her giant bosoms with his elbow. Every time that happened, he would turn to her and say, "Excuse me, my dear," and take a quick peek at the rip in her jeans where the hair curled out.
He guided her up the stairs by placing his arm around her waist and squeezing the roll of flesh there in his hand. He wondered whether Laura thought it was all peculiar, or just took it as fatherly affection. She hadn't mentioned it or tried to pull away from him.
"How are Deb and Rose and Louise?" Laura asked, making conversation. "They must be big girls by now."
"Yes, they're big," said George. "Big, yes, you could say that. As a matter-of-fact, Deb and Louise grew up so fast that it's hard to tell them from Rose. Sometimes its hard to tell any of them apart."
"I know what you mean," said Laura, trying to be sophisticated. 'That's the way it is with growing girls."
"As a matter-of-fact," said Arthur, "I'd like to talk to you about the remarkable change in yourself. You seem to have become an entirely different person. I didn't even want to claim you as my daughter. I'd certainly like to know what got into you."
"It's quite a long story," Laura said wearily. "It's hard to explain it so that it makes sense rationally."
"Oh," said Arthur, "well, why don't you come into my study and well have a long talk about it over a glass of sherry." He riveted his eyes directly onto her insistant nipples, longing to take one between his teeth and bite till the juice flowed.
He ushered her into his study, slipping his palm down the back of her pants for a split second, withdrawing it like lightning. He hoped she didn't notice, but didn't care much one way or the other. He slyly locked the door behind him, ushered her into a big, leather chair. His eyes began to burn into her.
When she noticed how her father's eyes never lifted their gaze from her unrestrained body, Laura's newly gained self-confidence and independence disappeared. She began to blush and cast her eyes downward, gazing into her lap where she could see the hair pie show through the hole in her crotch. It didn't seem, to make sense to her anymore that she was in the presence of her father.
Back in college, she had shed her straight conventional clothing two weeks after school started and followed the example of her peers in becoming slovenly. Soon she had gone much farther than any of them, made giddy by the freedom she felt for the first time. Her classmates had thought her flashes of bare twat, ass and tit through the holes of her tattered clothing were far-out.
They cast admiring glances at her retreating butt or her advancing nipples wherever she went. Suddenly, her father spoke to her, shocking her beyond belief. He turned her head completely around.
"Laura, you stink," George said. "I haven't smelled such a stench since Maria opened her legs in my face." Laura's jaw dropped open and she looked like she was going to cry.
"Are you a virgin?" her father asked her.
Laura did begin to cry, large salty tears trickling down her cheeks and plopping down on the ledge that was her bosom Arthur could restrain himself no longer. He leapt at her and bit her left jug, tearing right through the fuzzy yellow sweater. Laura was too terrified to scream even though the pain was excruciating.
George went wild. He tore the sweater off her using only his teeth. There was a large horseshoe shaped mark on her tit where his teeth had sunk into the flesh, the drops of bright red blood slowly oozing up to the surface. He buried his hands in her head of dirty, matted hair and hurled her to the floor. She blacked out for a minute from the force of the blow.
When she came to, she was completely nude and so was her father. He was lying on top of her writhing like a lizard, the heavy weight of his two hundred pounds crushing the breath out of her body.
"Let me go," she managed to gasp.
"Shut up," he screamed. He pinned her spread legs far apart with his knees and held her arms together above her head with one powerful hand.
With the other hand he squeezed and pinched her titty, being particularly careful to tweak the nipple sharply. Laura cried out at this painful new sensation but after a time she became too weak to make any noise, or else, could not feel the pain anymore.
She still rolled from side to side however, hopelessly trying to break out of his strong grip. Arthur raised his ass up in the air, aiming the head of his cock directly at her small red hole. He then contracted his ass muscles and shoved it into her. It got stuck a quarter of the way in, whereupon Arthur realized, in growing ecstasy, that his last fuckable daughter was pure and untouched.
His happiness knew no bounds and gave him the increase of strength he needed to slowly shove his rod into her, like a pod breaking through soil to find water. He could feel the restraining cunt tissues tearing and popping as he forced his tool into her. As Laura's crying grew louder, so did Arthur's digging and hauling grow more powerful.
Faster and faster, he pumped, making the juices and wet tissues of her pussy slosh with the slopping noise of a wave against the side of a rowboat.
"You're a virgin, you're a virgin," he shouted at her, then exploded deep inside her hot quim. The orgasm shot down to the very end of his asshole and he writhed on her and grunted in ecstasy.
"You mean I was a virgin," Laura sobbed inconsolably. Arthur reached down and squeezed her sticky cunt lips together, rubbing them rhythmically against each other until the girl also came, the first time around for her. While the spasms kicked her body, he continued to squeeze in a steady beat, whipping her to a peak of frenzy.
She lay on the floor sucking air in and out of her lungs like a bellows. The sudden sensation had astonished her.
"It's traditional for all fathers to fuck their daughters for the first time. That way the girls are broken in but don't get pregnant. It's a commonly known fact but no one ever talks about it much." Arthur told her that outrageous lie just to see how far her naivete would go.
"Really?" she said, somewhat relieved. He laughed to himself about her stupidity.
"Yes," he said, "and furthermore, there is another tradition which follows that of the first." He jumped off her and pulled her to her feet. She found it somewhat difficult to walk because she was so sore between her legs.
"It hurts a little, doesn't it?" Laura nodded her head in agreement. "Well, this second tradition will take care of that soreness."
He pulled the fourth and final chastity belt from his desk drawer. Laura looked at the ugly, hairy, steel gadget and even she believed that it was not the sort of thing that could soothe pain any. Arthur unlocked it and held it out to her so that she could step into it. She seemed reluctant
"It will protect from further incidents like these and anyway, one only wears it for a day to show that's she's been done by her father."
Laura, giving up completely, did as he told her. She stepped into the stainless steel garment and as he locked it into place with a loud click, she felt like she had been tricked. The metal was cool and somewhat soothing on her burning torn tushy, but it was too hard and pushed against her mound too tightly.
"Remember, it's only for a day," Arthur told her, gloating to himself that he would never let her out of the metal crotch container again if he could help it. "Why don't you go to your room and rest for a while," he said. Laura was quite willing to follow his advice. She wanted to get as far away from her father as she could and have a long talk with her sisters.
As she turned to leave, pointing her bare behind at him, bound up only .by the metal strip which followed her crevice down, caressing her cunt and rising up in front over her mound, a bee flew in the window which had been left slightly open. It landed on one of her swelling ass cheeks, which was squeezed out over the metal bar, looking as if it would pour forth over the floor.
The bee stuck his stinger into the soft, jiggling white flesh and Laura leapt up in the air, screaming and clutching her bum. Arthur laughed, feeling like he was going to piss all over the place. He decided to let it go, and picked up his jigger in his right hand and pointed it directly at Laura's ass just as a stream of hot piss shot out of him and landed on her, covering her with sheets of the stuff, which ran into her crevice and dripped down her legs.
When she realized what Arthur had done, Laura burst out sobbing again and ran to the door, pounding her fists against it. Arthur unlocked it for her, laughing so hard that he could hardly keep standing. She ran to her room, nude, fucked and dripping with. her father's piss. Laura locked the door to her room and would not come out for days.
Arthur went to find Tambi, to find out what kind of arrangements she had made concerning the party he was giving. Luckily, she had taken care of everything. By the time the end of the week had rolled around, the total complaining neighbors who had been invited totalled fifteen.
That week, Arthur spent a lot of time giving it to Laura in the ass. He loved to do it to her there because she hated it. He would grease up his rod with almost a half a jar of vaseline, spooning generous handfuls of it into her bunghole and massaging it around the rim to make double sure that she was well-lubricated. She didn't appreciate his efforts, and always screamed bloody murder for five minutes after he had penetrated her.
He didn't know what was wrong with Laura, all his other girls seemed to like it fine.
One night, after having been buried in her bunghole for a good half hour, he tried to piss in her. The shock had given her the strength to pull her ass off his pecker with a plop and run out of her room screaming down the hall.
It was necessary for him to catch her and give her a good spanking. He turned her over his knee, making sure it was digging into her hot, hairy beaver, then struck her plump fanny with the flat wooden back of his favorite, biggest hairbrush. When it was over and he had produced a red, tingling flush around her fat bum, he took the brush by the bristles and rammed the handle up into her bum, between the hot cheeks.
At last, the day of the fateful party arrived. Around six o'clock, the guests began coming to his house. He saw with uneasiness that many of them had brought their wives, but then realized that probably even the old bags could be shown a good time, under the proper circumstances.
Tambi plied the guest with liquor, and some of the more provincial of the guests were already slightly tipsy. Tambi had instructions to get everyone as drunk as she could. As the party got under way, things began to loosen up. Arthur had really stocked up on the booze.
The party-goers were already getting along as good friends. At this time, Arthur found it appropriate to call together the entire party in the living room to give a short speech.
"I gathered you all here," said Arthur affably, "to clear up a few things. I know youVe all had strange ideas of what goes on in this happy household, but I will dispel all those thoughts. My family is healthy, happy and normal. We just like to have our fun. And now, I have a little surprise for you all."
With that, Arthur left the moderately hushed living room.
He quietly, but quickly, went up and went up to the second floor. Within minutes, he returned, escorting his four young daughters. Carefully he herded them into the room and made them stand before the assembly. Everything was in order, except that to the astonishment of the guests, the girls were clad in short, filmy chemises and below, they sported metal chastity belts. The belts were of a perfect fit, swooping below the navel, around the waist and snugly through the plump legs.
A keyhole was plainly visible on the center front of each belt. Deb and Louise were both blushing slightly, with their eyes downcast and hands at their sides.
Rose looked innocently out at the crowd. Laura's eyes were closed in humiliation. To ease the anticipation, Arthur said jovially, "Well, I thought we could play a little game so that we can all get acquainted." With that, he stepped over to the coffee table and picked up a felt hat.
Then he produced from his pocket twenty small keys wrapped, with clear plastic.
"The rules will be simple. Everybody pick a key and the four lucky men who get the keys that fit the locks on the belts on my daughters can get acquainted in their own personal way."
With this, he looked over at the patiently waiting girls. They moved uncomfortably, gazing passively at the teacher. Oddly enough, this pause broke the ice in the room. A portly man in his late forties who lived up the street grabbed the hat and emptied the keys into it. More drinks were passed as the men all crowded around to take their chances.
The girls sat down on the couch as each guest rushed to see if his key fit, Arthur stood against the mantelpiece, occasionally laughing to himself as he watched the scene unfold. At the end of five minutes, the winners had been found. They included Henry, a furtive man in the day but a real fun lover at night; John, a heavily fleshed man of fifty with two chins; Fred, whose hands never seemed to stop moving; and Harvey, who was the head of an art flag company, a company which practiced some pretty peculiar manufacturing methods in the back room, all at Harvey's instigations.
Henry had Deb, John and Louise; Fred was happy, his catch having been the buxom Rose, and Harvey got Laura. Fred moved fast and was promptly at Rose's side. He nervously beckoned to her. She rose, slightly hesitant. All of a sudden, a change came over Fred. His back stiffened and his eyes darted with a fiery enthusiasm. He grabbed at her fragile chemise and in an instant she was stark naked, save for the heavy belt.
Fred bent down on his knees and fumbled with the key, attempting to fit it into the tempting hole. After a few attempts, he slid the key in. As the lock opened, the belt fell from Rose's soft thighs to the floor with a clank. Fred's small, closely set eyes were now free to roam over Rose's entire body.
The blush that was once confined to her face, now crept down the entire length of the cunt, giving the firm flesh an inviting pink glow. Fred could stand it no longer. With a yelp he buried as much of his face as he could into her bush and began groping frantically with his mouth.
At first contact, Rose flinched but as Fred started hitting home, she let her head fall back, exposing her finely shaped neck. Eyes closed, her hands groped in the back of her for the support of the couch. Feeling her move, Fred came up for air and assisted her to the couch. Seconds later he was at her again.
Rose lay back down on the sofa, her legs straddled the back of the furniture while her eager companion went around to the rear in order to work in depth.
Arthur, in another corner of the room, was having an animated conversation with Louise's lover while the girl stood meekly by.
"Well, go ahead and do what you want," Arthur was saying. "I really didn't know this was going to happen, but a little red wine usually does help to make a good party better."
With that both he and John burst into loud guffaws.
"What the fuck," John blurted out, and with that he deftly released the prime flesh that was Louise from the constricting metal apparatus. Instantly his right hand was down at her hairy triangle, while his left hand twirled the hard nipple of her well-molded boobie.
As his lower hand disappeared, Louise could not help emitting a deep moan, her eyes tightly shut and her panting, red mouth slightly parted. In a few seconds, John's hand emerged, dripping from her ample cunt juices. He looked down noticing that not only was his hand wet, but it also had a fine blood-red line on it where his fingers had probed deep into her streaming gash.
"Yup, you were sure right, Arthur," he chortled, "she must be on her first or second day to still be dripping this much ketchup."
Having said this, he ordered Louise to lie on the rug, the crowd closing in on her and her three sisters.
After all that action, Louise and the other sisters were too gone to do much except lie around and let people stumble over their wasted bodies or stumble on top of them and use each of their orifices and body openings for whatever purpose they had in mind at the moment.
Everyone had become roaring drunk. At least three-fourths of the guests had passed out in peculiar positions around the house and in various stages of undress. The fun-lovers who still retained consciousness were mostly in the last stages of trying to pull their various protuberances out of other fun lover's various holes.
Tambi had managed to stay relatively sober and it was her goal that night to bugger everyone in the room with her strap-on. She had succeeded. Arthur saw Rose lying face down under a table and decided to retire with her up to his bedroom, but first he removed the wooden table leg that someone had shoved up her cunt.
He dragged her around with him while he herded up his three other daughters and two sons and made them go upstairs with him. He put each one into their own respective bedrooms, save Rose, and locked all the doors. Then he locked himself and Rose into his bedroom and did not emerge until the following evening when Tambi told them that the coast was clear.
Just as Arthur had planned, each guest had sneaked home, trying not to be noticed. After they had slept it off, each guest at Arthur's party had been so ashamed of himself that never again would they speak of anything concerning the family. Arthur realized that he would have to clean up his act a little bit, though.
The next week he sent his daughters back to school to finish their education. They could only wear their chastity belts at night when they got home from school and he did not whip them as much as he had previously. When Laura went back to college, he gave her an extra bonus allowance and warned her not to tell anyone what happened to her on her vacation.
Thus the next four years passed peacefully, and Arthur held his household together admirably. No one suspected a thing that was going on and his family still managed to get their jollies, although not as thick and fast as they had been getting them previously. However, some fun and games were better than none, to their way of thinking.
Those four years seemed to fly by delightfully. Soon it was time for Rose to go away to college and she left him somewhat reluctantly, knowing that she would not be able to find a regular source of fucks there without working hard at it. She would miss home.
Then it came time for Harry to go away. At first he missed his little sister, Louise, terribly. There was nobody around who was quite as good a lay as she was and no one would be around in college who would be as naive as his sister Louise was, when he had blackmailed her into being his slave for that span of time before she had become too busy with the teacher to pay much attention to him.
Then, sadly, it was Deg's turn to leave for college. The family was rapidly dwindling, there being only four children left at home now to entertain their father. He occupied himself by training the little girls to play with his doodle and his bunghole and he taught Ali to put on performances with them also.
Some nights it was a lot of fun, like a sexual circus, especially when Tambi officiated like a ringmaster and the girls were parading around in their older sisters' cast-off chastity belts. But mostly Arthur stuck to the tamer things, like Louise for hours when she got home from school, then finishing off with the old hairbrush in ass trick.
He was looking forward with eagerness to the day when Anna and Nancy became women so that he could start breaking them in. That was the part he remembered most fondly. However, one day Laura wrote him a letter from college explaining how the whole peculiar situation could have been extended in the first place.
The next day after the terribly sensuous screams, Arthur decided that he had enough of the mad orgies. He wanted Millie, and maybe Tambi with him. He didn't want Harry and Ali and all of the others. The house, despite some girls leaving, was still ridiculously overcrowded, especially since all the neighbors were taking part in the fucking and sucking.
No, I have to get away from all this, he decided. I think I will try to buy airplane tickets again. This time I will manage to take Millie with me to Florida. If I can, if I can get Tambi to come also, so much the better. All this shit, all these people, I can't stand it!
He paced around the semi-destroyed living room, which was Uttered with liquor bottles and ropes and chains.
Several of the neighbors and some of the twelve-year-old girls were in the other rooms smoking pot and having sex. The whole house reeks of sex, he thought. It is very unsanitary. No one changes the sheets. They're all stained with pussy juice and come. No one washes the dishes. We all eat like animals off paper plates. He went to the ticket agency and bought one adult and two children tickets to Miami, Florida. No one knew that he had a place to rent down there near Okefichobee, Florida. They would never find him, never find him and the two sixteen-year-olds that had grown up in the sex madhouse together.
Mr. Rosen couldn't remember the years passing. It was all so fast. He had quit his teaching job and the money had come from his savings and Rose and the mothers and fathers of the girls that Rose was "taking care of" while they were away.
What has happened to me? Why have I let these things happen? Why are all the neighbors in the other rooms balling and smoking pot? Arthur didn't understand what had ever possessed him to allow such things. It was one thing to screw a few young girls and torture them.
The house had become an insane unsanitary sexual snake pit with drooling stoned men chasing little girls with strapped on dildoes at their crotches.
Instead of the blinds, which had broken a long time back, there was just a burlap curtain hiding the nude goings on from the world.
Mr. Rosen told Millie and Tambi individually about going away, and they agreed.
That evening the screaming and coming masses of people partied, the three absconders slipped out the front door.
They hailed a cab. Soon they were strapped in and taking off with a whoosh!
Arthur had done it. He had escaped. His two "daughters," one oh either side of him, hugged him in the giant DC-10.
They each planted a kiss on one of his cheeks. They had told him that being tortured and stuck by one man was quite enough for them.
He marveled at how Tambi and Millie had filled out in the few short years. Those years had seemed like days or at the most weeks. He had heard that when you are past forty, the years fly. Pretty soon I will be dead, he thought.
Tambi was now a size thirty-eight and a real knock-out. Millie had her long blonde hair in a page boy now and looked like a young woman, with hips that wiggled a man's mind to distraction, and a size forty cup, at least.
They were wearing those transparent see-through dresses that had become so fashionable in the last year or so.
Damned, he thought, my hair has become totally white. It used to be white just around the temples. Also, there are bigger bags under my eyes. What I need is to get away from the terrible rain water and noise of New York and down into sun country. I will have all the sex and satisfaction I need with my two so-called daughters with me. No one will really look for me because everyone is a criminal that I know. All of them could get in trouble if they called the cops on me.
"Daddy-cakes, dear," asked seductive, slanted-eyed Tambi, her big breasts heaving in the thin material of her dress. "Can I be the first one to congratulate you on our escape?"
"Why, thank you, dear."
"No. I mean in the back of the plane. The seat belts fastened sign has gone off. In the lounge there is a John. We can both squeeze in there. We can fuck in there. You can take your belt off and whack my big round golden fanny!"
"What an idea! Yes."
The two of them got up. Millie fumed and sat depressed as the couple went to the plane's bathroom to have sexual intercourse. Intercourse at forty-five thousand feet!
In the bathroom, Tambi pulled up her dress and pulled down her panties, revealing her big ass with its ample rectum as she bent over the toilet seat.
"Put it in me, quick! Just unzip and whack me with your belt a few times before you sock it to me."
He did as she said, his engorged seeking peter found her shit hole and he jammed it in after whacking her fat ass.
"How does it feel to fuck in the stratosphere, honey?"
"I feel fine, oh, I feel just fine. Faster and harder, please!"
He moved faster and harder.
He could see that it would be lots of fun in Florida with the Oriental girl and the sixteen-year-old blonde fighting over him, fighting to have him fuck them.
"Maybe we can get a girl of about twelve to join us in bed," he mused, as he came into her bowels so frantically that a vibration warning button lit up in the cockpit.
The pilot looked at the little red light. It stayed on only a minute, but he didn't like it at all.
"Listen, Fred," he said to the co-pilot, "they better check this plane out from aft to engine when we land. That's the third time this week that the red light has come on!"
When they landed at their destination, he grabbed the blonde and the Oriental girl and took them to the nearest motel.
This time he wasn't going to have any airplane interfere with his fucking. Fuck it, he said to himself.
He threw them both on the bed, shoving them brutally so that they landed, belly and tits first, on the bouncing mattress.
Perversely, the mattress was one of those vibrating things that shook and quivered if you put in a quarter.
"Piss and hell!" he bellowed with rage. "I just thought I had eliminated that problem once and for all!" No such luck.
The mattress vibrated fiercely, while the girls lay immobilized, belly first on the bed. He watched their backsides shiver and quiver, the delectable soft buttock flesh shaking double time to the mattress vibrations.
"Okay cunts, strip and spread 'em!" he bellowed.
Reluctantly, the girls got up off the bed and began to take their clothes off. He devoured them with his eyes, covering and coveting every lust palpitating inch of their bodies.
The Oriental was svelte, lean almost, but he didn't mind that. She was a good change from the blonde, who was more on the plump, voluptuous side.
"Variety," he said, "is the spice of life."
His eyes roved over the Oriental's body. What he liked best about her were the nipples. They were incredibly long and hard, protruding at least an inch off the body of the tit itself.
"How'd you like me to bite that tit?" he asked the girl. He was asking just to tease her, play little games. He knew fucking well he could bite that nipple. In fact, he could bite it off if he wanted. He owned both of those girls, for all practical purposes. The best thing was, they knew it.
"What do you say, you slit-eyed lady?" he demanded again.
"Yes sir," the Oriental girl replied, an inscrutable smile on her face. She gave her head a slight, graceful bow.
"Would you like me to bite your nipple?" he demanded.
"Yes sir," she replied, giggling.
"What about you, blondie?" he said, turning to the soft, white-skinned voluptuous blonde standing at the Oriental's side.
"You asked her first, not me," the blonde snapped jealously. "So why don't you do it to her?"
"What's the matter?" he snarled, taking a menacing step towards her. "Are you into giving me some lip? Is that your story?"
"No sir," she quailed. "I'm just jealous of the way you pay more attention to her. I want to be your slave, too."
"That's what I like to hear," he snapped. He approached the blonde and gave her a sharp, stinging slap across the face.
She raised her hand to the part his brutal palm had just struck. She giggled nervously.
"How does that feel?" he demanded.
"Good," she said. "But it could feel better."
"For instance?"
"It would feel better if that slap landed on my cunt. Slam! Right across my cunt, a real hard-hitting blow from your hand."
"What would it do to you?"
"Well, for one thing," she said boldly, "it would make me cream all over your hand."
"Hmm," he said thoughtfully. "Maybe I can bite your nipples while I slap the Oriental's cunt."
He stood there, looking from one naked voluptuous cunt to another. He had to admit to himself that he just didn't know where to begin. He enjoyed that kind of moment when he stood alone, fully dressed and towering over two naked helpless broads.
Just his stance alone, a stance of absolute power and dominance, made his balls churn with lust and desire. He needed to get his rocks off, and fast. He could feel the whole of his stalk lengthening and thickening. Quickly, he unzipped his fly.
"Hand me the riding crop," he snapped to the Oriental.
Obediently, she ran over to his bags and picked out a riding crop. She bowed as she handed it to him.
"On your knees, cunt," he said to the Oriental.
Eagerly, she fell to her knees directly in front of him. Her tiny soft mouth was over his quickly rising dong.
"What about me?" the blonde whined. "Am I supposed to stand here and play with myself while you two get into something good?"
"Kiss my ass," he sneered at her. Even though she had just meant that as an insulting remark, she took him seriously.
With a squeal of delight, the blonde ran up to him and stepped behind him. He could hear her positioning herself behind his asshole.
Suddenly, he felt her soft hands gently spreading apart the two lean, muscular cheeks of his ass. He realized she was going to give him the best rim-job he ever got because she was really in hot competition with the Oriental girl.
As the Oriental girl continued to suck his dick, he raised his arm high over his head, bringing the brutal riding crop slamming down on her nude back again and again.
He could hear the stinging, whistling sound as the sharp leather bit into her flesh, and as the tip of the crop curled in between her buttocks and gnashed at her asshole.
Meanwhile, the blonde had separated his ass cheeks and was busily, greedily kissing and sucking the tender puckered halo of skin that surrounded his asshole.
When finally her tongue darted inside the hole, he gave a spasm of pleasure. He swung the whip around his back so that it smacked loudly against the blonde girl's flesh, too.
The responding whine of pleasure made her dart her tongue into his asshole with even more speed, with even more orgasmic urgency.
Suddenly, without warning, both of the women were whimpering and convulsing with lust. Sucking his dick, eating out his asshole, they had brought themselves to the very brink of orgasm. When suddenly he shot his hot heavy load into the Oriental's mouth, all three of them stiffened, and collapsed on the floor, shuddering to an exquisite, obliterating orgasm.
