Dog
Star’s 
Pageant
I knew it wasn’t right, but I was always drawn to those little girl beauty pageants. While I chastised mothers for dressing their girls like pint-sized hookers, I still looked at them with amazement, for they were nonetheless very attractive. The little beauties looked so special; young princesses ready to blossom.
I have a daughter that age. One day, my little girl Beth caught me watching one of those pageants and asked me pointedly if she could do that. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, sweetheart. Those girls aren’t always happy, you know.”
“By Daddy, don’t you think I’m pretty like them?”
I gathered her in my arms. “Of course you are, Beth Ann. You’re the prettiest girl around.” And she was. She took after he late mother. She had long, thick, raven black hair and the biggest eyes you’ve ever seen on a girl her age. “Okay, honey, I’ll check if there are any try-outs or whatever they’re called in this area and see what’s required.
I pretty much struck out trying to find something local. When Beth came home from school one day and told me she had a friend named Erica who was “in stuff like that,” meaning some sort of beauty competition, I wanted to know more about it. Since I knew Erica’s dad, I gave him a call. I asked Pete about the girls’ beauty pageant and he grew silent on the other end of the phone.
Finally he said, “My daughter’s been talking again, I see.”
“What’s wrong with talking about it? You must be proud.”
“Ah, yes, I’m proud,” was all he said.
I pressed him for details about how it worked. He seemed evasive for a minute, but then proposed that Beth and I visited their meeting place next time to find out more. He gave me an address, but then urged me to not tell anyone. The need for secrecy was puzzling, but I agreed. I Googled the address to find it was an old building in the warehouse district. Seemed to me to be an unusual place for beauty pageant try-outs or rehearsals, but maybe they just needed the space.
Beth and Erica must have been talking about it all week, for by the time the night of the meeting came, Beth was so full of anticipation she glowed. I asked her about details, but she was as evasive as Pete had been; like she was teasing me by not telling. “Erica said we have to keep secrets and can’t tell, so I won’t tell you,” was one of her cryptic comments.
The door to the place was locked, but after I rapped, a big guy, like a bouncer sort, let us in. He told us his name was Dave, and then he told Beth that she was very pretty. “See, Daddy, I told you so,” she said, her little chin held haughtily high.
Pete came to greet us, ushering us into a large room with many folding chairs, set up like a theater with a raised platform stage. “I’m glad you could come,” he said, getting down on one knee and looking at Beth. “My Lord, you sure are a pretty one. My Erica is good but this one will win everyone’s hearts.” Pete summoned a woman, who took Beth Ann by the hand and led her to what I assumed was backstage. There were several men talking in groups of two or three, but except for the woman who took Beth, I only saw one other, which I thought was strange considering what I’d seen in all those child beauty pageant TV shows. Maybe the mothers were backstage.
I was introduced to some of the other men, who greeted me warmly, saying how pretty my little girl looked. When I asked about the girls changing into costumes, I got looks I had trouble deciphering. After more arrived, the woman who had taken Beth backstage announced that things would begin in five minutes.
A hush fell over the assembled people, who quickly took seats. Pete made sure I sat next to him on one side, while he had another man sit opposite me. This other man was Art, and from the conversation his girl was a newcomer like mine. The lights grew brighter over the stage as the first girl came out from behind the curtain. She was wearing what looked like a longer than usual ballerina’s tutu. Her blond hair was done up in little ringlets, and as she began to dance, the curls as well as the frilly skirt began to sway along with her skinny little torso.
Pete leaned toward me and whispered, “That’s Bill’s little girl, isn’t she delicious?” while pointing to a man in the front row of seats.
I watched her dance and thought, it doesn’t look that special, but then with one big pirouette I saw that she wore no panties underneath the tutu. Several of the men craned their necks and slid forward in their seats. Her father didn’t look surprised or angry at his daughter’s display. In fact, he looked rather pleased. I had to admit she had the cutest little buns and her pudgy little cunt was quite pronounced and equally cute.
I’m not naïve, and so it didn’t take me long to figure out what this was all about. I thought about how I’ll feel when it’s my girl’s turn to be up there. We were all voyeurs, and the little girls would put on their own salacious version of a beauty pageant. I remembered the first time I saw one of those pageants on TV, and I remembered how I felt when I saw the first photos of JonBenet Ramsey. I felt so bad that she’d been murdered, but that didn’t stop me from being turned on a little to her young beauty. Sitting there, I was coming face to face with myself and my motivations for watching the preteen beauty pageants. They turned me on, plain and simple. My soul-searching went deeper when I pondered my own daughter. Did I look at Beth the same way? Of course I saw her naked all the time. Was I turned on by her? Maybe I was a little, and as a father that bothered me; yet all the other girls had fathers too. How did they feel?
In this crowd, their ‘feeling’ was self-evident. I just waited for the first zipper to be unzipped and the first cock to be jerked off. It didn’t take long.
The third girl to ‘dance’ was Erica. Pete looked on proudly as his daughter gyrated in what could only be described as an awkward striptease. Nothing more, nothing less. When she was naked, except for a tiara and a cute gold chain around her waist, tongues were hanging out as well as dicks, and I think cum began to fly.
I leaned close to Pete and asked, “You really don’t mind all these men jerking off to the sight of your little girl?”
He looked at me as if I were an alien from outer space. “Don’t you think she’s pretty and sexy up there?” he answered incredulously.
I couldn’t very well say no. She was cute—and sexy. What I was thinking was how my daughter would be received by this crowd. I told him his girl was a doll, and that placated him.
The next girl was Art’s. Unlike the others, who were tentative at best, this girl danced like a vaudeville pro. She emerged wearing a diaphanous gown that harkened back to the seven-veils stripper era. The young brunette wasn’t necessarily pretty, but she was taller than the others and possibly older too. As she began to dance, I heard Art tell Pete that he’d designed the costume and taught her all the moves.
Pete asked Art in a low voice “Have you…ahem…?”
Unlike the non-question question, I didn’t hear Art’s reply, but his head bob told me everything. I felt sorry for his little girl, even as I grew excited watching her strip. You see, I wasn’t fooling myself. I understood how hypocritical my arousal was. Evidently unlike Art, I did not physically abuse my own daughter. I knew what turned me on, and a naked Beth was a beautiful sight, but that was it.
Art’s daughter soon was naked and dancing very provocatively. She knew how to bend over and give us a glimpse of her hairless pussy without making it look lewd. I imagined Art sneaking into her bed at night and fucking her. My erection was painful, but unlike some of the others, I didn’t whip it out and jerk-off. The girl was really playing to the crowd, enticing the men in front by placing her fingers at her labia without any actual masturbatory gestures. I thought that was the game—tease—until she exaggeratingly moistened a fingertip by her lips and slid it between her pink folds. The men all went wild. One man moaned, his cock rigid through his fly as he ejaculated three quick bursts toward the stage. The mimed masturbation continued until she herself moaned in feigned culmination.
Beth had a hard act to follow. Absent any guidance from me, I wondered what coaching she had received backstage. When she came out on stage she was wearing a long white robe. The music started and she began to dance very seductively. I hadn’t taught her that. She began to lift the hem of the gown-like garment in increments. This striptease garnered everyone’s attention like no one else before her. She shook her hair for effect before lifting the hem higher. I wondered from the beginning if she had panties on, but after a few more teases, the answer—as well as her cute little hairless pussy—was revealed.
My little girl—my princess—had every man in the place right there in the palm of her hand. She may not understand sexuality, but she’s seen enough, and heard me talk of, the allure of the girl beauty pageant. So maybe she had picked up some subtle hints from me after all. She gorgeously kept lifting the gown enough for a peek at her cute ass and pussy, yet lowering it quickly to the dismay of the crowd. Our eyes met and she beamed a 100-watt smile. That’s when, with a flourish, the gown went up and over her head and off. With her long beautiful hair flowing behind her, she pranced along the stage, her little butt wiggling just so.
I saw her every day, yet on that stage she was captivating, not simply from the perspective of all the ogling men in the audience, but mine too. They all craned their necks to get a better look. One guy hollered if Beth would come down from the stage and sit on his lap. I was part-way out of my seat to stop her if she complied, but either she didn’t hear him or just ignored the request. She kept dancing, and it was beautiful.
After a half-dozen more girls took their turn on stage, none of which came close to my Beth’s dazzle, it was time for awards. The girls all paraded out to raucous applause, still in their birthday suits, of course. Erica was awarded third place. Another girl named Jackie got second. I held my breath. I knew I was extremely biased, but Beth’s performance and beauty eclipsed both girls, so she better win, I thought.
When they called her name, I finally breathed, and watched my daughter jump up and down with glee. Two women affixed a cheap tiara to her hair while music played and men clapped.
Awards bestowed, the girls all clambered down the stage steps and ran to their respective fathers. A beaming Beth jumped into my arms and said, “Daddy, Daddy, I won! Did you see it all? Everyone said I was the prettiest!”
“Yes, darling, I saw it all, and you were definitely the prettiest girl up there.”
I caught a glimpse of Peter looking at us, probably with envy that my daughter, a newcomer, won over his. Erica was sitting on his lap, trying to have him kiss her, it looked like, but his attention was on us, or more accurately, on Beth.
“Did you mind the part about taking off your clothes?” I asked her, worried a bit about any repercussions.
“No Daddy, I mean like Erica told me all about it, and how all the daddies think a girl is pretty all over, not just her face. Was I pretty all over?” Her skin was flushed pink, still emotionally overcome by winning first place. I looked at her with fresh eyes, seeing why all the men ogled her. She was a flower bud, not yet ready to bloom, but close, oh so close. She floored me by adding “That man over there said my bum was the prettiest too.” She was pointing to a man I’d seen when we arrived.
“He’s right. Your bum is the prettiest, but not any more pretty than the rest of you. Yes, you were pretty all over up on that stage.”
Several fathers, their daughters in tow, stopped to congratulate Beth. Each one yearned to touch her, to possess her if only for a moment, the moment it would take to deflower her, that is. I was having similar thoughts about their daughters, so I couldn’t blame them. Art came over to us with his daughter, whose name was Heather, to offer congratulations like everyone else. Seeing the slightly older girl up close gave me gooseflesh. Art ogled Beth while I ogled Heather. For her part, Beth’s naiveté with all things sexual kept her from understanding the look Art was giving her. However, Heather possessed no such naiveté. She coolly met my gaze straight on, even giving me a small seductive smile while she checked out the front of my pants. I would have no fantasies about deflowering this young lady. She’d most assuredly been deflowered already. When Heather turned her attention to Beth, looking at her with the same overt lust, I did a double take. At a time in development when most kids have no clue as to their sexuality, could this girl be bisexual?
Beth and I went backstage to get her clothes, she dressed, and we were out of there, but not before Peter invited us to the next “pageant.”
At home, Beth began prancing around the house naked, pretending to be in her own fantasy beauty pageant. In the interim before the next one, I tactfully probed Beth with questions on what happened backstage. I particularly asked her about the people who coached her on what to do while on stage.
“There was a nice man there who told me how the people love a nice bum and how pretty mine was,” she told me innocently enough. “He patted my bum and said it was firm, and I asked if that was a good thing and he laughed and said it was very good. He looked at my pee-pee place too and said that was the best part.”
Well, now I knew what up until then I suspected. The little show wasn’t just voyeurism; these people were grooming the young girls. During the next ‘pageant’ I’d make sure I was one of the backstage folks. Nobody was going to touch my daughter like that again. Before we got to the next pageant, I needed to teach Beth Ann some new moves.
When Pete called to tell me the time for the next get-together, I made the demand to be included in the backstage preparations. When he balked, I explained that we were a package deal, and that if I couldn’t be backstage then Beth wouldn’t show. I knew that would sway the bastard.
Beth was excited enough for both of us as I drove to the place. “Do you think I’ll win again?” she asked me.
I said “You’re so beautiful you should win every time. Just remember what I showed you.”
We walked hand-in-hand into the dressing area behind the stage after meeting Pete by the door. No way was I not going to get an erection seeing all those budding beauties in various states of undress. Beth and I had shopped for a little black nightie for her performance. We’d strategically trimmed some of the material off so it was even more alluring on her. As Beth changed into it, I was approached by the precocious Heather, Art’s daughter.
“Hi, do you think I look nice?”
“Heather, you look good enough to eat,” I said in response.
She was wearing a lacy baby-doll that frankly hid nothing. She ran her tongue over her lower lip and said, “I like that, you know…being eaten, I mean.”
Almost against my will I glanced at her crotch. She saw me look, and in turn looked at my bulging pants-front. I leaned close and whispered in her ear “And I bet you taste so sweet.”
Her state of arousal was palpable. I wondered how a prepubescent girl could get so aroused, then wondered if she had reached puberty after all but had yet to grow hair or breasts. Frankly I didn’t know much about young girls’ anatomical changes, yet for Beth Ann’s sake I’d better learn.
She moved right up against me and whispered, “I’m like…wet, you know.”
I looked around to see if anyone was looking, and when I didn’t see any eyes on us I reached down and felt her slit. As she announced, she was amazingly lubricated. “Sweetheart, oh I wish I could taste you now,” I said.
She whispered again, “Maybe later.” She paused a few seconds before adding “I’m going to be dancing for you out there.”
I may have gone insane and jumped her right then and there if Beth had not approached me and wanted to show me a dance move one of the other girls had shown her. I tried to concentrate on my daughter yet thoughts of Heather kept intruding. To keep myself occupied, I coached some of the other girls on moves that would heighten their sex appeal to the hungry audience of drooling men.
On their cues, I guided one girl after another onto the stage. From my position in the wings, I saw the reaction as each girl did her routine. There was a lot of masturbation going on out there, so I knew my suggestions to the girls were bearing fruit. My little girl was marvelous, with lots of tease wrapped around a dash of innocence. Then it was Heather’s turn.
I’ve never seen a routine like hers without a stripper pole being present. She gyrated, bending over occasionally while simultaneously sucking her thumb like a baby. Did her father teach her that? No matter how she came to do it, the thumb sucking had its effect, getting every dick in the place that wasn’t already stiff as hard as rebar.
The guy manning the spotlight got it situated on her just right so everyone could see her dripping cunt. The place went wild. Cum was flying everywhere in the audience when she began crawling seductively across the stage. Her crawl was toward me, and her eyes locked onto mine. She stopped, raised up on her knees, and pulled off her baby-doll nightie. She kept eye contact with me as she tweaked both nipples, making sure I noticed how they stiffened. The men in the audience were all exhorting her to come down from the stage. She didn’t. Like a seasoned stripper, she sat down on the stage floor, facing the audience, and did several scissors moves with her legs spreading wide. I’ll be damned if she didn’t leave a wet spot on the floor!
On her feet again, Heather finished by wiggling her ass toward the audience, picking up her discarded baby-doll nightie and exaggeratingly fanning herself with it. She didn’t need to exaggerate. She’d been hotter than hot.
She walked off stage and toward me. When she drew near, she said “Can I sleep over at your house tonight? Beth wants me to.”
“You’ve talked to Beth? What about your father?”
My dad can’t say no to me. Ever. And yes, Beth and I have talked about me sleeping over. She wants me.”
Did she mean what her last statement implied? Beth came over and hugged Heather; two pink flower buds flesh to flesh. I agreed a sleepover would be a fine idea.
Beth said to Heather, beaming, “I know you’re gonna win tonight, I just know it! We have ice cream at home, so we can celebrate.” I wasn’t thinking of ice cream. I was thinking of eating something else.
Indeed, Heather’s sexually charged performance won her the tiara that night. Art wasn’t too happy about letting her sleep at my house, but as Heather said, he couldn’t say no to her. The way he looked at Beth told me he would prefer a trade of daughters for the night. That wasn’t going to happen.
Heather gave me directions to her house, and I drove there so she could pack some things for the night. On the way to our house, Heather tossed out innuendos left and right, while I snuck glances at my daughter to see if she picked up on any of them. To my surprise, it looked like she had.
The girls settled in front of the TV while I dished out the ice cream. With heaping bowls in our hands, Heather nonchalantly asked, “Do you have any porn DVDs?”
I nearly choked before saying, “No. I take it your father has some, or you wouldn’t be asking.
Before she could respond, Beth asked “What’s porn?”
“It’s like a movie but people are having sex in it,” Heather explained.
“Cool!” Beth proclaimed. She turned to me and said “How come you don’t have any?”
“Well, I figured you were too young to understand.” What I didn’t say was that the kind of porn I wanted wasn’t exactly legal. I had to get by with my Russian Nudist videos, without risking everything.
Tonight, though…
Beth said, “I wish we had some movies like that to watch. I think sex is neat.”
“What do you know about sex?”
“Heather and Erica tell me everything they do with their fathers and their uncles.”
Holy shit, I was speechless!
Beth continued on, “Oh, but don’t worry Daddy, I understand why you don’t have sex with me, and I know you love me and still think I’m pretty.” Sitting next to me, she hugged my arm. “I think you’re the best dad in the whole world.”
Sitting on the other side of me on our big sofa, Heather hugged that arm and said, “I bet you’re a better father than my dad. He just likes me for sex, not like how you love Beth.” My erection ached when Heather placed a hand on my pants bulge. She could make that comment about her father’s needs and still understand mine.
I supposed a threshold had already been crossed, so I picked up the TV’s remote and scanned the adult movie selections on demand. When they saw the titles, both girls yipped with glee, and began making suggested picks. When one called “Cherry Popping” scrolled past, Heather said to pick that one, and then said to my daughter, “Like you’re still a virgin but it’ll be cool to watch girls losing theirs, even if they’ll be play-acting.” Evidently, Beth knew a little bit about “cherries.”
I started the movie. The girls watched, agape, as the first scene unfolded big and bold on our HDTV. They squirmed and animatedly exchanged comments, with me in the middle. When the actress feigned her hymen had been ripped with an “Ouch…please stop…no…don’t stop…” Heather moaned “My panties are sooooo wet!”
Beth was instantly interested in Heather’s declared wetness. Me too, for that matter. Beth asked her some questions before I asked mine, “How long have you been aroused like that, I mean, I saw how wet you were on stage tonight, and it never occurred to me that someone your age could get like that.”
She regaled us with stories of her earliest sexual awakening. How she began masturbating when she was seven. How her father had deflowered her at nine. How she’d let herself get gang-banged by a group of boys in her neighborhood last year. I found her tales unbelievable even as the evidence of her sexuality and promiscuity was clear.
By the time cum spewed in the second scene of the movie, our clothes were off and I was about to get my earlier wish. “Taste me,” Heather hoarsely said.
When my tongue slipped between the folds of her girl’s labia, I tasted the nectar of the gods. I sort of chuckled a little when I realized that Beth was peering over my shoulder, engrossed with what I was doing to her newfound friend. In between licks, I gave my daughter a running commentary on cunnilingus. My dick was rigid to the point of aching, with me between the slender thighs of one nubile creature while another lay up against me so I felt her heat.
Without thought I snaked my hand down between Beth’s thighs and rubbed her vulva. She said barely above a whisper, “See Daddy, I’m wet too.” Not as much as Heather, but she was indeed wet. My little girl was getting into it! While I tongue-fucked Heather, I finger-fucked my daughter, though not deep enough to break her intact hymen.
She was quiet but when Heather’s body shook, I knew she’d had the “Big O.” Unbelievable! Heather told me I “did it good,” while Beth’s attention kept being drawn to the action on the TV.
“Someday you’ll have sex like that,” I said to Beth, pointing out the hot and heavy action on the TV screen.
Beth answered, “I can’t wait Daddy. How come not now?”
“You’re not big enough yet, and besides, you still have your virginity, and you want the first time to be special, don’t you?”
“Yes Daddy, but it would be special if it was with you.”
God, did I want my daughter so much then, with her looking at me with those big eyes of hers! What I got was a close second. Heather was blowing me and it took no time at all to cum in her mouth and all over her face. Both girls were amazed at my sizable load. Beth was amazed because she hadn’t seen a man cum before (except in the porn movie) and, as we helped Heather clean up, she commented that her dad never produced nearly as much volume as I just did.
We cuddled together and watched the rest of the pay-per-view movie while I kept a running commentary as a sort of sex education for my daughter. The older Heather would occasionally add her own comments. Both girls were back to a state of high arousal by the movie’s end, and frankly so was I. Heather, in a sexy, dreamy voice, said that she wished I was her father, and wanted to know when we were going to bed.
“Right now!” I answered, lifting both girls, one in each arm, setting them to giggle uncontrollably as I headed to my bedroom. Heather left no guesswork as to what she wanted; while she lay on the bed with her legs apart, I pulled Beth aside and asked her if she knew what was going to happen. With her body flushed pink from total arousal, she nodded.
“You won’t be jealous of Heather, will you?”
“No Daddy. I know it’ll be my turn someday.”
I gazed down at the waiting girl and was surprised to see she had a condom packet in her hand. Where it came from was anyone’s guess, but that was one dilemma solved. Heather handed the packet to Beth and said, “Do you want to put it on your daddy?”
Wide-eyed, Beth followed Heather’s instructions and unrolled the condom onto me. On my knees and between Heather’s parted thighs, I asked her if she was ready. Breathlessly she said yes. I pulled her legs toward me and cupped her ass, lifting her to my cock. She was wonderfully lubricated but it was still difficult to enter her since she was so tight. Heather winced and said, “Oh…maybe you’re too big for me too.” Once more I was shocked to hear this coming from a prepubescent girl.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“Nooooooooooo, keep trying,” she cooed.
I pushed a little harder and except for a few more of her winces along the way, I was as deep as I could go in her extremely tight, hot vagina. I said, “Relax, hon, if it hurts I won’t go any further,” though I didn’t tell her I probably couldn’t go any further if I tried without damaging her young cervix.
Beth said, “Don’t hurt her, Daddy.”
“I won’t, sweetheart. I won’t.”
“It’s okay, you’re just a lot bigger than my dad is,” Heather said, looking up at me, like she was measuring the fit, so to speak.
With me buried so deeply within her young channel, I coaxed her into position where we could roll over on the bed, with her then on top. “It’s up to you, Heather dear. I’m yours, your love slave.”
I wasn’t sure if it was the “dear’ or “love slave” comment that did it but Heather smiled broadly and came alive. Tentatively she began to fuck me, raising her tender little ass a little at a time and then taking me back in. Imperceptivity at first, she got into a rhythm that I saw mirrored in her facial expression. Age or puberty didn’t seem to matter, since I’d seen that look on many a woman’s face during sex; the beginning of that climb to orgasm’s peak. Up to this point in time I kept my hands off her, letting her have complete control, but with those little puffy nubs begging to be touched, I began caressing them.
She moaned softly, nothing more really than a girl’s kitten-like meow. I tweaked her beginning-to-develop nipples more and she responded with more moans and a faster pace. I wanted so badly to grab those girl hips of hers and ram into her, yet I let her maintain control throughout. I began to cum, not able to will it otherwise, but her utter tightness acted like a cock ring and kept me hard even after my balls were drained and the condom full. When she shuddered and squealed it caught me by surprise.
“Oh!...Oh!...Oh!...” On and on she went like that, her orgasm seemingly without end.
I chanced a look at my daughter. She stared, fixated on her friend’s squeals of joy, maybe unsure if it was the sound of pleasure or pain.
“It’s okay, honey, she’s feeling better now.”
I pulled out of Heather with a nearly audible ‘plop,’ the condom wet and filled. The girls took it off me, looked at it as if it were the holy grail, and dumped the gooey contents onto their pink bodies to daub like finger-paints. Heather, her body drenched in sweat and now smeared with my spent ejaculate, hugged me and told me how good it felt.
She turned to Beth and said “You’ve got the best dad. See how good he made me feel. Someday it’ll be your turn to feel as good as I just did.”
I ushered the two of them into the shower and washed their bodies with tenderness. That night I didn’t sleep alone. I had two lovely girls to cuddle up with. Waking in the morning, I had two lovely girls playing with my morning wood. I teased my daughter before tickling her and setting her down on my face. My tongue caressed the soft, sweet skin of her pudgy labia. When I slid my tongue into her pink slit she giggled and told me it tickled. I persisted long enough to notice a change in her demeanor. After a few more seconds, she cried out “Daddy, Daddy, it does feel good! It does!”
With Heather stroking me and my tongue apparently near tasting my daughter’s orgasm for the first time, I groaned and came. Heather didn’t quite get the mouthful or facial of last night’s blow-job, but she got splashed nonetheless. Beth thought it was wondrous.
I treated the girls to an IHOP breakfast before taking Heather home. She promised not to tell her father about anything we did. The girls kissed goodbye and it didn’t take much to notice the intimacy of it.
By the next pageant, Art, the oaf, took his daughter’s winning and her post-coital glow to solidify my ‘position’ as the backstage dad. Most likely clueless to my tapping his little girl, he thanked me for coaching the girls and helping out with their costumes. It seemed Pete, Erica’s dad, was in full agreement. Part of my job was to keep the other dads away from the dressing room (undressing room?) and the backstage area. That worked out really well, since now I had the girls all to myself.
Beth and Heather hadn’t been totally quiet, you see. I knew who’d been told of the sleepover by the way each girl looked at me. When Beth said that Jackie wanted to sleep over, I knew I had a winner. Since the last show I’d bought some special stage makeup. Its blend worked well to highlight areas in the spotlight. I asked Jackie if she wanted to try some of the makeup, and when she agreed, I deliciously applied it to her budding nipples and her smooth and soft pubic mound. I applied some face makeup to both Beth and Jackie, not to make them look adult, but to make them seem even younger. I’d read up on stuff like that.
I urged Jackie to eschew her lacy gown for a torn-short tee and nothing else, making it look like she just got out of bed. I gave her some other tips and sent her out there when her turn came up. As I suggested, she didn’t dance, instead walking on stage sucking her thumb like an infant. She fell to her knees with her legs slightly spread and pulled off the tee-shirt, faking an exaggerated yawn. The makeup I’d applied to her pubis accentuated her youth and immaturity in that area, and that the audience was noticing. She faked another yawn, pushing out her flat chest so the spotlight caught and highlighted her little nipples. Good girl, I thought.
Without a single lame dance step, the young girl had them enthralled. She angled herself just as I coached her to do, and still on her knees, she lay her head down on her hands, that were resting on the stage floor, with the net effect of her being in the doggie position ready to let every dad in the place imagine he was behind her. Many were jerking off, and it didn’t take many of them long to cum.
Jackie won hands down (or was it dicks up?) and Beth finished second. However, I was the real winner because a fired up Jackie was sleeping over our house. After the pageant, Heather brushed against the front of my pants and said, “She’s more than ready, you know. You should hear her talk about you and how you touched her when you put the makeup on.” I gave Heather a quick kiss, somehow knowing that Jackie wouldn’t be as hot as this precocious preteen. That’s when she added, with a wink that belied her tender years, “I’m not sure, but I think she’s a virgin.”
I’d bought condoms. I was ready.
Before we left the place, Beth whispered to me, “Maybe tonight, Daddy?”
Oh God! Both of them? My nickname will end up being the “Deflower King!”
Yes, I take my role seriously.
© 2011 Dog Star [email protected]