Twila and Candy

By Charlotte Simmons

Chapter 2

The first thing I did after becoming a legal adult at sixteen was use that lawyer to buy me a nice, big five bedroom house with all the bells and whistles and a brand new loaded Cadillac Escalade. I now had a place where I could fuck my little black honeys in private and in style. They ate it up!

When I turned eighteen, I realized I was now in a whole new legal category. That got me thinking. It’s getting harder and harder to get any quality preteen pussy with all those white sick fucks out there kidnapping, raping and murdering squeaky clean little white girls. Parents kept a closer eye on their little ones and educated them earlier about “talking to strangers”. Amber’s Law and all the new resources for catching pedophiles; registries and such… It was getting so bad that a loving and gentle yet kinky pervert such as myself couldn’t find a tiny lover any more. People locked up their little girls tighter than a federal maximum security prison!

What did I do? I hatched me a plan to get me a young tender black girl, train her up to please me and when she was old enough, I’d make my own little black girl pussy! Where was I gonna find me a young black girl to knock up and keep knocked up?

You got it — the projects!

Knowing the way life works in the projects, I hired me a good detective by the name of Tom Stevens whose palm was easily greased for what I wanted to do. After a few meetings to feel him out and suck him in, I found out he didn’t need to be sucked in at all: he was into little girls also. After I’d laid out my plan, he negotiated a fee so that he could buy his own little black girl. He said he’d never had any little black pussy before and I told him, “Once you’ve had black, you never go back.”

After the chuckles ended, I told him, “Tom, I want you to scour the projects and find me a pretty little black girl about four or five whose mother is a druggie. I want her to be petite, with a slender, tiny figure. I don’t want any bubble-butt, chubby little ho.”

I showed him a picture of a cute little black model I downloaded from the internet and said, “Here, here’s what I’m looking for. Got it?”

“Yea, Boss, I got it: young, pretty, tiny and vulnerable.”

“Exactly.”

Well, Tom went hunting. He reported to me every couple of days and would give me photos of prospective girls he thought I might like. If I liked them, he’d get the goods on the girl’s parent(s) and give me a file on them. Things weren’t looking too good and after a couple of months, I was getting impatient. Tom moved to another town about twenty miles away and started working the projects.

During this time, I laid low and just downloaded more kiddie porn to occupy those “lonely nights”. I had never fucked or messed around with a girl younger than five, but one night I downloaded a video of a cute, blonde haired two year-old white girl getting her father’s prick pushed up her tiny greased little bunghole. I’d just finished blowing my load as I watched the cream from that father’s prick ooze out of the tiny, red and inflamed anus of that little tot when Tom called. I knew then that as soon as my pretty little black mama delivered her first little girl, that baby was gonna start taking sex Ed the day she came home from the hospital!

“Hey, Boss,” Tom said, “I found her! She’s a little doll, too!”

“Oh yeah? Do tell.”

“She’s four years old, a little over three feet tall, maybe thirty-five pounds or so and pretty as a picture.”

“Tell me more. What’s her skin color? Does she have long or short hair, tell me?”

“She’s a medium chocolate brown, full, but not fat lips, big brown eyes and her hair is about shoulder length. She’s got the cutest little butt and little slender legs.”

“Do you have any photos?”

“Yeah, but I’d rather print them out and bring them over than email them. You don’t want any trails, do you?”

“No, you’re right. Do it and bring them over tonight. If she’s the one, there’s a bonus in it for you.”

“You got it, Boss. I’ll be there in about an hour and a half.”

“See you then.” I hung up.

I took a shower, got dressed and was pouring myself some ice tea when the doorbell rang. I let Tom in and he immediately went to the dining room table and laid out six 8 x 10 photos of the prettiest little chocolate princess you’ve ever seen! She was just delectable!

“Christ on a crutch!” I exclaimed. “She’s beautiful! What about her home life?”

“I haven’t dug too deep yet, wanting to get your approval first. But from what I can gather, she’s a very good girl, innocent and even at her age, she’s hungry to get out of the projects. The couple of people I talked to said she’s really smart and mature for her age. She wants to use her looks to become a model. There’s no father in the picture and from what I gather, her mom’s pretty good looking too and is a stripper at one of the local clubs. That’s all I’ve got so far.”

I slapped him on the back and said, “You done good, Tommy, me boy! Get every speck of dirt you can find on the mother and get back to me. How long do you think it’ll take?”

“Give me a couple of days and I’ll have something for you then.”

“Oh, what’s the girl’s name?”

“Twila. Twila Cummings.”

“Nice, very nice. Well, off you go. The sooner you get started, the sooner you collect that bonus: a big fat one at that!”

“I knew I could count on you, Boss. All right, I’m off.”

__________________________

The next two days were agony while I waited for Tommy to do his thing. When he called, he said he’d hit pay dirt! Turns out, Twila’s momma was a crack whore and the personal plaything and prostitute for the club owner where she stripped. Her boss would lend her out or sell her services to a select few. She didn’t receive any money outside of tips and her wages for stripping, but got free blow in return. That club owner “owned” her. He probably got her hooked on the shit. After that, she was his to do with as he pleased.

Tom told me that Twila probably wouldn’t get fat or pudgy when she got older. Her mother was only five-two and about 110 pounds with a petite, yet proportionally nice figure with B cup titties. Tom said he’d seen her strip at the club and she was luscious. That’s when he laid a bombshell on me: Twila has a two year-old sister named Candice, but they call her Candy and by the looks of the photo, she was a tiny little chocolate cutie like her sister.

Perfect! Oh, how sweet it is!

“Maybe… just maybe, I can get two for the price of one!” I said as I looked at Tom with a conniving tone and smile.

“For Christ sakes, Boss,” Tom replied, “I like em young too, but what the fuck can you do with a two year-old?”

“The same thing you do with a ten year-old. They’ve got a mouth to suck cock, drink cum and piss; they’ve also got an ass and a pussy to get fucked in. It pays to have a small dick like mine when you like the kind of girls I like and I don’t feel ashamed to say so. Don’t worry about it. If I get them both, that tiny little tot will be earning her keep, that’s for sure.”

“Ha, ha,” Tom snickered as he shook his head. “That’s cold, Boss.”

“That’s the cold hard truth, Tom. Ass, grass or cash: nobody rides for free. I learned that in the projects when I was ten and it’s true the world over: even for the rich.”

“Well, Boss, from what I learned talking to the lady that babysits Twila and her sister, you’re gonna have your hands full. Twila’s beautiful and even at four she knows it. She acts like a little diva and is very strong-willed, opinionated and bossy. You may convince the mother to sell her kids, but training that little beauty won’t be easy.”

“What about the two year-old?”

“From what the old lady said, Candy is quiet and needy. Since Twila demands so much attention, the little tyke is always in her sister’s shadow. She’s ripe for the picking.”

“Everybody has their weakness, Tom, and Twila has hers. If she’s like you say, she’s vain. When I start treating her little sister like a princess and her like the long lost stepchild, she won’t hold out for long. If I know her, she’ll want to be number one princess in the house. Playing second fiddle to her baby sister will stick in her craw. After a week or so of playing second fiddle to her sister, she’ll beg me to abuse her.”

“Well, Boss, how you gonna get Cassandra to sell her kids?”

“Ever see the Godfather movie? I’ll make her an offer she can’t refuse. I bet she thinks those two kids are a ball and chain around her neck — not to mention, a financial drain. When I offer to pay her a nice tidy sum for relieving her of her motherly responsibilities in return for irrevocable custody and giving her her freedom, she’ll sell. Believe me, she’ll sell. The only thing that matters to her is that blow; everything else is a commodity to be sold for a price — her pussy or her daughters’.”

“So, when you gonna make the pitch?”

“I’ll go to the club tomorrow night and pay Miss Cassandra Cummings a visit. After that, I’ll just play it by ear. But first, tomorrow when the mother leaves for work, I want you to take me to see those two little darlings up close and personal.”

“You got it, Boss. I’ll be here about four. She takes the kids to the neighbor’s about five and picks them up in the morning about nine.”

“Sounds like a plan to me. I’ll see you at four.”

Sure thing, Boss. Good night.”

“Good night, Tom.”