Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 

   The Last of the Line: by (C) Hamilton Joyce.  Mf Mg MMf MMg MF FF MMF tv
nc cons anal

   Chapter 1 : The Coup d'etat.

   The small convoy of an army staff car and a white transit van was going
fast when it came to the security checkpoint on the outskirts of the city.
The occupants could hear the sound of fighting in the direction of the
docks, including artillery, probably tanks.  Flashes lit the night sky.

   An infantry sergeant was standing by the barrier and he shone his torch
on the scrap of paper waved at him from the open-roofed car, and then onto
the face of the driver.

   "You're going nowhere, corporal.  Cut that engine."

   The driver stood up, lifted a machine pistol, and the sergeant's face
disintegrated in a mass of blood and bone.  A burst of gunfire from the
roadside building and he fell slumped over the wheel.  Half a dozen troops
leaped from the van firing into the building, and all falling to the tarmac
as a machine gun caught them.  The four passengers in the rear of the car
huddled down in the floor-well and survived the brief fire-fight.

   -------------------------------------------



   The general was in the same military fatigues as his three staff
officers who were studying a map on a bare table in front of them.  He
stood up and returned the major's salute.

   "Yes, major?"

   "I thought you would want to know immediately, sir.  The King and the
royals attempted to break through to the docks.  It seems there was a
destroyer waiting for them."

   "And?"

   "We have them all.  Apparently they had made a dash for the West in a
staff car driven by the king and escorted by Brigadier Hampden in a transit
van with six marines.  They were stopped at a road block ten miles out. 
There was a short fire-fight, and The King was shot dead: his fault for
wearing army uniform.  Hampden and the marines in the van too.  No other
casualties, and really just a minor skirmish.  And we have the Queen and
the three sprogs in secure custody."

   "Excellent.  And he's better off dead.  We'll make it look as if he was
running for it....  disguised as a washer-woman perhaps?  Where are they,
the others?"

   "Under guard in what's left of the city barracks."

   "Look after them carefully, major.  No harm must come to them: they are
valuable to us.  Your men have done well."

   "Sir."



   -------------------------------------------------

   The port was surrendered the next morning and the junior officers and
men seemed only too willing to change sides and accept orders from General
Higgs' men who replaced the senior officers now in custody custody and on
their way to be shot for treason after summary trials.

   As for General Higgs, he had showered, shaved and put on his full dress
uniform, medals and all.  He hummed a happy tune as he looked forward to
being proclaimed "Lord Protector" by both houses of parliament in special
sessions that evening.  The vote was secured as the royalist MPs were
either on the run or already themselves in custody.  He would then legally
dissolve parliament and call fresh elections.....  candidates would be
carefully vetted.  Altogether a satisfactory, efficient coup!

   And now for the Queen, the Prince, and the Princesses.  He had already
given his orders regarding the Queen: Brigadier Mellors could be relied on
to fulfil them to the letter and with enthusiasm.  The arrogant bitch was
to be "whored", systematically and thoroughly reduced to humble submission.
It would be Mellors' duty and that of his fellow officers to rape her
frequently for a week, no holds or holes barred, and then hand her over to
the sergeants' mess for a month, and finally to the men for their r and r
until they got bored with her, if ever.  It might have been pleasant to
fuck the arrogant bitch himself, in the arse....  but mature women had
never really been his thing.  The children.....  Ah!  that was different!

   The children would accompany the General and his staff on the plane
today, and be installed in the Lord Protector's palace headquarters,
'spoils of war'.  His cock stiffened at the thought.  Alexandra was
fourteen, her brother Charles twelve, and the youngest, Victoria, ten.  All
had their mother's blonde hair and devastating beauty.  Doubtless all were
innocent virgins.....  He would start with the eldest and work his way down
to Victoria as and when Alexandra palled.  He had special plans for the
boy, who, after all, was politically the most dangerous as his father's
heir.

   .....................................

   He had kept his hands off them in the helicopter and on the plane south,
listening to the sobs of the two girls and the reassuring bravery of the
boy.

   His housekeeper of many years, Mrs Holdsworth, understood his ways
completely and, at least half in love with the great man though she knew he
would never love her as she had seen and understood his sexual oddities and
was utterly discrete.  She was overjoyed at his successful coup d'etat and
only too happy to wear her new military officer's uniform (a Captain no
less!) and to learn she was to take responsibility for the training of the
royal children in their new roles.

   She was waiting on the tarmac as the military plane landed, and to the
amusement of General Higgs saluted him before shepherding the woebegone
youngsters into a waiting car.  He returned her salute, more smartly than
his usual habit.

   "Settle them in, Mrs Holdsworth, and then find my office and I'll tell
you my plans for your new charges."

   She knew enough about his ways to guess at least some of those plans. 
He was now effectively dictator and could do anything he wanted: and the
royals were mostly hated by the population so he did not even have to worry
too much about public opinion...

   .............................................



   The general was still in his dress uniform, so manly and noble she
thought as she stood in front of his desk.

   "They are my spoils of war Captain Holdsworth," he smiled, "Molly....."

   She warmed even more to the man.  For years it had been "Mrs
Holdsworth", now it was her new rank plus the friendly and intimate
"Molly". She would be loyal and faithful to him whatever events threw at
them.

   "They will be a welcome recreation, an escape from the burden of high
office.  In short I intend to whore them all.  They will live a life of
great luxury and ease, their only duty being to please their Lord Protector
and submit their bodies to his every desire.  That is the broad outline of
their duties, but I will have detailed plan for each one.  Just the broad
outline for now, though.

   First the eldest girl, Alexandra: sometimes I will want her dressed in
the sort of clothes a girl wears to go clubbing.  Tarty.  Very sexy
lingerie, stockings and shoes.  Sometimes I will want her youthful and
virginal in little-girl summer frocks, trainers and school-girl lingerie.
However, her nightwear should always be provocative.  Hair, make-up, nails,
everything immaculate.  All body hair should be removed.  A doctor will
give her contraceptive implant tonight: we have enough little royals
without getting more to trouble the State.

   The youngest, Victoria, I will also fuck later, if and when I get bored
with her sibling.  But she should be dressed as the cute ten-year-old she
is.  I leave the details to you.  I doubt she has body hair: but as soon as
any appears it is to be removed, even fluff.

   Finally, the Prince: you know my sexual preferences, Molly, and they do
not include boys.  But they do include ladyboys, and I intend the
transformation of His Royal Highness into a desirable and nubile teenage
girl.  A doctor will be contacting you tonight soon after this meeting and
give you the medical regime to be followed, but the feminisation should
start as soon as you can get the clothes and other resources together.  At
twelve he is about the same size as his older sister, and might well
sometimes borrow her pretty clothes, but he should have his own complete
wardrobe and be required always to dress feminine and seductive, like his
sister.  His hair is already long enough to be styled, and you should
retain a good, discrete and totally loyal hairdresser.  A beautician too
should be retained.  Find an expert who can remove his body hair
permanently.  All these personnel need to be positively vetted by Security.

   As soon as the boy has a feminine figure, especially breasts, he will be
bedded by me: however, I intend him to retain his erectile function and the
doctor will be instructed accordingly.  In the meantime no hint of the
process must escape: part of the plan is to neutralise the possibility of
him becoming a focus for royalist plots.

   Separate rooms and beds for all three, and I don't want the boy fucking
either of his sisters.  Nor should there be any lesbian frolics between the
girls.  Not yet at any rate.  Make sure they are supervised adequately to
remove any risk of that.

   Report to me tomorrow at sixteen hundred hours.  I do not expect to have
time for Alexandra until Sunday and will let you know Saturday evening. 
Questions, Molly?"

   "No, sir.  No questions."

   He was still amused when the faithful Molly saluted him, and she was so
proud as he returned her salute,and turned sharply in a completely military
manner to let herself out.  That uniform did wonders for her figure, and he
guessed many men would fancy her.

   He pressed a button on his desk.

   "Send in Sir Holden Harbottle."

   In his sixties and still a trim figure, hand-made suit and shoes,
greying, sober and dependable, Sir Holden was the very figure of a man who
had reached the pinnacle of his profession.

   General Higgs explained that the young Prince, probably legally the
un-crowned king until parliament passed the necessary act, was in custody
but still a very real danger to the State.  Advisers were counselling the
Lord Protector to secretly execute the lad, but that seemed a brutal and
unpropitious way to start the new regime.  A means had to be found to
neutralise the boy.

   Incarceration would be one answer, but he would still be a focus for
plotting.

   It had been decided that the boy would me transformed so no-one would
recognise him: he would be feminised, become a ladyboy like those in the
touring show.  I understand that the process is not without risk and needs
skilled medical supervision.  You can name your price for that.  Over to
you Lord Harbottle.

   "Lord Harbottle?"

   "Yes you heard right, Lord Harbottle.  That is part of the price."

   "Well sir, the boy is only twelve which is helpful: many boys exhibit a
degree of gynaecomastia at puberty."

   "Gynocommastia?"

   "Nearly all young males have some breast development around puberty,
until their hormones balance properly.  What we have to do is increase that
tendency by using the right hormones...  probably estrogen and two of the
so-called growth hormones, plus a testosterone blocker."

   "Sound good.  How long before he....  she....  has breasts?"

   "Varies, sir.  Some changes are rather quick....  softer skin, more
feminine bottom, larger nipples.  Some breast development measurable in a
few months."

   "Too slow.  May need to terminate the lad: pity."

   "It is risky, but there have been some successful variations.  It is
possible to surgically implant breast forms under the muscles of the chest
to give a B or C cup size immediately, and then the hormone treatment to
soften the rather harsh appearance of the new, firm and rather too-conical
breasts, and particularly their unnatural looking junction with the torso.
The skin and figure changes would follow as I described earlier.  There
will be no surgical scarring."

   "We'll go for that Lord Harbottle.  Excellent.  Will he maintain his
potency, his erectile function?"

   "The only real downside, sir, is that the hormome therapy will decrease
libido so she will end up a beautiful woman with low sexual drive.  But
with care the ability to achieve an erection can be maintained.  With care
we can leave her with a working penis, sir."

   "Excellent.  Start the treatment tonight.  My equerry, Captain Forsythe,
will show you to the boy's accommodation and introduce you to Captain
Holdsworth whose platoon of marines has responsibility for his custody. 
Oh, in addition the Princess Alexandra needs contraception, an implant
would be safest: we don't want any more little royals to perturb the state!
When you examine her, if the hymen is still in place, kindly open it.  Send
me you bill for the whole exercise at your convenience, and look for the
envelope with the State crest on it: the arrangements for your early
induction as a Lord."

   All sorted, the general murmured to himself.  The lovely virgin
Alexandra Sunday, her pretty "sister" Charlotte as soon as the surgery
healed, and the cute little pre-adolescent beauty Victoria as and when. 
And King in all but name.  It had all been worth the risk.  Now a glass of
wine and the red box of papers his Civil Servants had produced for his
information and/or approval.  All play and no work not good!



   Chapter 2: Alexandra

   Saturday evening he had sent his instructions to Molly, and at eleven
Sunday morning looking up as the ornately carved mahogany door of his
office closed behind Alexandra, who stood watching as he too stood up to
greet her.  She was dressed in a light, pastel blue cotton dress with a
white ribbon round the waist, emphasising the slimness of her young body,
but also the ripeness of her breasts, full for a fourteen- year-old.  As he
had instructed the dress buttoned down the front as far as the waist, the
buttons large and white also.  She stood with her hands clasped in front of
her as if protecting her virginal pussy from this so-dominant male.

   Because he was all male in his tee and shorts, the white shirt tight
across a muscled chest and round massive biceps, the shorts showing off his
tree-trunk legs, tanned and covered in golden hair.  His handsome face
showed he was genuinely pleased to see her.

   She stood silent, and he could read in those clear blue eyes fear, but
also excitement.  Her face had a shy smile.  She was devastatingly
beautiful, so nubile, so desirable.  Lovely.  She would probably never be
so sexy again as she was at fourteen, on the cusp between childhood and
womanhood.  Today he would have the ultimate pleasure of causing her to
make that transition......

   "Alex....  I may call you Alex I hope.  Alexandra is so formal."

   "Of course, sir."

   "Good.  And when we are alone you must call me John.  I want us to be
friends.  But first I've been looking forward to a walk through the
gardens." He took her hand: it was hot and damp belying the apparent
confidence of her bearing.  She had the dignified aura of a true princess
born to be idolised: well, before the day was out she would be screaming
her joy like any girl of the people.  He was sure of that.  "Come with me."

   He seemed already to know his way around the huge, rambling building and
after several corridors and stairways they emerged into the sunlight by a
small side door that gave out onto a walled vegetable garden.  A bent old
man was leaning on a hoe, looking at a row of young plants.

   "Good morning."

   "Good morning, sir."

   "Apparently there are three acres of these fruit and vegetables...  but
the real garden is the other side of the wall."

   Through the green-painted door the expanse of flower meadow stretched to
woods in the distance.

   As they walked through the sometimes waist-high flowers and grasses
clouds of butterflies rose about them.  A peacock butterfly, gaudy with its
two false eyes on the wings settled on her naked shoulder, darkly florid
against her white skin-tone.

   "See.  The beautiful butterfly looked for the most beautiful place to
rest."

   The compliment was laboured perhaps but was rewarded by the girl
squeezing his hand just a bit.

   Alexandra looked sideways at her new master, unwilling to let their eyes
meet.  His gentle, deep voice belied that massively muscular frame: his bum
was broad, but seemed tiny compared with those shoulders.  She wondered for
a moment what he would look like naked.  Hairy?  Or Smooth?  Her body was
responding to his masculinity, his easy assumption of control, and she was
excited but a bit alarmed to realise her pussy was awake, her clitoris
demanding attention.  She dismissed the thoughts.

   "Each step the grass-hoppers leap in front of us.  I've never seen so
many.  And that flower is a snake-head lily.  So pretty.  So elegant."

   She was losing her stiff formality.

   "I hope they never cut this grass, John.'

   "Yes, my dear.  I've asked and it seems they cut it once a year, but
only after all the flowers have seeded.  It's hot, isn't it.  Should be
cooler in the trees."

   The path beneath the ancient spreading oaks and ashes had been cobbled
with flints but a long time ago, and was mossy in places.  As they walked
silent hand in hand a deer jumped in front of them and looked at them
astonished.  The shyness and curiosity in its deep, dark eyes reminded him
suddenly of the girl as she had stood in the doorway of his office.  Her
young body would have that same lithe beauty he thought.  Then the deer was
off, leaping the last yard into the shrubs, all four feet off the ground.

   "Beautiful and graceful, like you, Alex."

   He took her in his arms, feeling her breasts pressed against him,
lowered his face to hers and kissed her.  He felt the tension in her body,
and then the hesitation, then the relax as her lips accepted his.  He
pushed his tongue into her mouth and it became a lover's kiss.  He could
feel her hands one in the small of his back but the other groping his
bottom through the thin cotton of his shorts.  She must have been aware of
his erection pressing into her, but was happy to let him pull at her lower
lip with his pursed lips.

   Alexandra had been taken by surprise by his sudden passion.  She had
never been kissed before, or at least not like this, and her girlish
innocence resisted for a moment.  But there was a sudden surge of
excitement, warming her pussy, making her heart pound so loud that surely
he would hear it.  Her breasts pressed against him felt heavy.  Unthinking
she submitted and allowed his tongue to enter her mouth.

   Then she stiffened again, ashamed she had so let fall her guard.

   "I've been wanting to kiss you all morning, my dear..."

   "I know."

   Now they walked, and he took her arm and placed it around his his waist.
Her breasts felt heavy and she knew her nipples would be erect, certain too
that her clitoris was stiff.  He had a hand over her shoulder caressing
where the butterfly had landed.  Then his palm slipped down and his hand
cupped over her breast.  It felt warm and firm, and he imagined he could
feel a nipple under his palm, through the layers of her bra and dress.

   She was ashamed, but secretly enjoyed the feeling.

   Alex was old enough, and wise enough in the ways of the world to know
that The Lord Protector intended to seduce her, to take her virginity.  She
also remembered Captain Holdsworth's advice: "It's going to happen, my
dear, so you may as well try to enjoy it." And at least John was a handsome
man, a real man big and strong, and it seemed gentle as well.  She could do
worse.  And it was no good looking back to the old days, gone for ever.

   And yet it was wrong.  She was only fourteen.  It was wrong before
marriage in any case, and her political awareness told her they would never
let her marry, much less ever have children.  He seemed a decent man:
perhaps she could persuade him not to take advantage of her helplessness.

   These conflicting thoughts filled her mind and they walked in silence
till the gloom of the trees gave way to an open glade where the grass was
more manicured, and stretched down to a lake, with a little beach of yellow
sand....  surely not natural, but rather beautiful nonetheless.

   "My word!  What have we here?"

   She knew his surprise was feigned, and knew he knew that she knew. 
There was a white blanket and beside it a wicker basket and a bucket with a
bottle in it.

   "Our lunch, Alex.  First a glass, I think."

   He opened the bottle with great skill, and poured two glasses.

   "It's nice.  Sweet.  I don't like the sharp stuff."

   He had ordered sweet, pink champagne as he guessed her tastes would
still be juvenile.

   "And what have we here?"

   In the hamper two plates of sandwiches, some peaches, and a box of
chocolate.

   "Does chocolate go with champagne, John?"

   "It certainly does, my dear.  Try this one."

   He popped it in her mouth: those lips so full and promising sensuality.
Not a little-girl's lips at all.  The chocolates were filled with liqueurs,
this one a cherry flavoured brandy.  The alcohol, plus the champagne would
help his project.  He would rather have a willing, or at least an accepting
virgin, than tears, screams, sobbing.

   "Oooh!  More-ish!  she giggled and took another mouthful from her glass,
which he immediately refilled.

   She picked another chocolate from the box: he noticed it was a round
cherry liqueur again.  She chewed it, swallowed, registered the alcohol
content with a sound of air from her puffed cheeks, and lay down on her
back where she had been sitting.

   "It's hot," he said and pulled the tight tee over his head, throwing it
onto the hamper.

   She looked at his bare chest and remembered Captain Holdsworth's advice.
Yes, she could actually enjoy it, she was sure.  He was handsome and so
masculine with that broad chest and muscular arms, that mat of golden hair.
How long was it since she had pleasured herself?  Three days at least with
all the commotion, disruption and travelling.  Her clitty had suddenly
woken up when he had kissed her in the woodland walk, and now, what with
the champagne and his near-naked closeness, it was almost painfully
aroused. She longed to finger herself.  without realising it she had opened
her legs slightly as she lay back.

   He looked down at her, looked at those breasts swelling nicely under the
cotton frock, saw the tiny gesture of her legs, and guessed she was ready
for him.  He lay beside her and kissed her.  This time she responded with
her tongue in his mouth even before he forced his past it into hers.

   "You must be hot too."

   He un-popped the three buttons at the front of her dress.

   "Oh no, sir, you shouldn't...."

   "Oh yes...."

   "But.."

   "Shh!" He held a finger to those luscious lips to silence her, and as
her dress fell open looked at her breasts.  She was wearing a school-girl
white cotton bra, very plain and it would have been un-sexy were it not for
the delightful cleavage, Her breasts were perhaps just a bit too big for
their cups, and erect nipples made two little peaks in the cloth. .

   Alexandra was a mix of emotions....  desire, yes, but maidenly modesty
too, and somewhere among them was guilt that she should be feeling her own
lust for this man, especially given the turmoil and violence of the past
few days.  She was breathing heavily.

   He looked down at her and his voice caught as he whispered, "God! 
You're beautiful, Alex."

   He closed a fist over her breast, feeling the firmness of youth under
his palm, through the school-girl white cotton of her bra.  His other hand
rested on her belly, flat and athletic-looking between the hip bones that
stood proud of it.  She was so slender, so delicate.  but so-much in the
flush of healthy youth.  He was aware of his cock probably weeping precum
into his cotton shorts.  He slipped a finger inside the bra and felt the
silky warmth of her flesh, and then the hard nub of her nipple.  She had
sat up and he unclasped her bra so as she leaned forward the cups shucked
off and the bra hung loose from her shoulders, trapped by the dress.  Her
breasts were perfect.  A lover of small firm breasts these were the best he
had ever seen, about the size of small oranges, even paler than the white
of her torso, and tipped with small aureoles and long erect nipples, rosy
pink.

   He lowered his face to her body and felt the silkiness with his lips,
and now the rubbery, stiff little nipple.  He sucked on it, and pulled it
with pursed lips.  That felt so good for the girl, her breast, her nipple
so wanted to be mouthed, and his hand was gently squeezing, fondling the
other.  The sensation was echoed in her clitoris.  But then....

   "Oh no.  No, please....."

   Because he had reached beneath the hem of her dress run his hand up her
leg, slipped it round to the even silkier, softer, warmer inside thigh and
finally let his hand cup her pussy.  The crotch of her panties was damp,
and he knew he would enjoy her very soon.  No hurry!

   "Oh yes, Alex!"

   She felt his hand on her lower back now, looking for the zip that held
the dress over her hips.  She heard the ratchet sound as it slid the two or
three inches.

   "Take it off, Alex.  It will crumple and spoil if not...."

   She knew she should not, but his voice was so strong, his manner so
compelling, and her breasts, and pussy were beginning to over-rule her
head. It was almost as if she wanted this man.  Wanted him to.....  But no!

   She knelt so the dress fell, and the bra with it.  Her breasts stood
perky and proud as only an adolescent girl can really be, and he sat behind
her, a hand on each breast, lifting her so she could wriggle free of the
debris of her clothes, the last relics of her virginal modesty.

   He stood, and as she turned her head to face him over her shoulder she
watched him slowly pull his shorts down.  His penis caught in the waistband
but, laughing, he eased the cloth over it and stepped out of them kicking
off his sandals, naked.  Alex looked up at him.  His cock was so hard it
was near vertical against his six-pack, his balls loose and seeming to the
girl to be massive, like that cock.  She wanted to kiss it, to feel the
heat of it against her cheek.  She moved an inch towards him, but then
flinched and leaned away.  He laughed, knowing the conflict in her mind
between chastity and lust, and knowing as well which feeling was winning.

   He lay down, and pulled her down alongside him.  She did not know what
to do with her hands, wanting to feel him, wanting to feel those heavy
balls, that angry-looking penis, but not daring to disobey years of
maidenly conditioning.  She compromised, placing them on his legs, feeling
the hard muscle beneath the golden hairs.

   "You're tanned all over, John."

   "Are you, Alex?"

   "You can see I'm not, John..."

   "Not here!"

   His eyes were drawn to the dazzling white, school-girl cotton panties
that hugged her pussy.  Tight over her crotch, they had a little crease
delineating her cunt lips.  Soon, he thought."

   "Not here, Alex.  Can't see here...."

   And he slipped his hand down the waistband at the back, feeling her
bottom cheek, and then the closed purse of her pussy lips from behind.  His
mouth was on her breast again, pulling at the nipple with pursed lips,
while he pressed her virginal cunt-lips.

   She could feel his free hand squeezing her bottom through the cotton,
and then slipping down to caress her pussy lips from behind.  A finger slid
between the labia.  She kissed him hard, pressing down on him, on his bare
chest, on the hard shaft of his penis.

   His finger was rubbing her cleft now, but short of her tingling clit. 
Now he had his other hand down the front of her panties, fingers proving
that his instruction all pubic hair should be removed had been followed. 
Her mound was as smooth and silky as that firm little buttock.

   He pulled her over on top of him, trapping that hand on her pubic mound

   "Are you, Alex?"

   What did he mean?  Was he asking if she was a virgin?  How dare he?

   "Am I what?"

   "Like I said.  Are you milk-white all over?"

   With a quick gesture he pulled her knickers down till they caught under
her hips.  He rolled her over on her back again, hands free now, A thumb
under each waistband he pulled them further down, and half-ashamed of
herself, half-excited by the naughtiness of it, she raised her bottom so he
could slide them down her thighs, her calves and off over her trainers.

   She giggled in her embarrassment.  He smiled.  This was easier than he
dared hope....

   They stared a long moment at each other, Alex taking in the strong,
broad shaft with a thick blues vein running up it to the flaring helmet
with an eye weeping clear liquid.  He looked down at a perfect pussy, the
hairless mound, swelling almost rounded like a young breast, and then the
puffy outer lips of her pussy, and yes they were more white than pink,
unfussy, with a little triangle of flesh hiding chastely her clitoris.

   "You are indeed white all over, Alex.  And that is the most delightful
pusssy I have ever seen.  In fact I just have to..."

   She gasped as he kissed her closed labia and then parted them with thumb
and forefinger.  Now his mouth was open on her cunt, his tongue seeking and
finding her clitoris.  The scent of woman was everywhere, and the taste of
her juices.  She was wet, aroused, wanted sex.  Glory be!

   He pulled her to him, on top of him again, her thighs astride his head.
He felt her hands on his head, fingers twined in his hair, pulling his face
hard against her pussy.  She bucked beneath him as he sucked the clitoris,
not even yet penetrating her vagina with a finger.  That was not needed as
her young body found a release from years of inhibitions with the first
orgasm without her own fingers involved, and bigger, more intense than any
she had fingering herself.

   She cried out, but he could scarcely hear it as her soft thighs were
clamped over his ears, and he was nearly suffocating, his face bathed in
her juices, his nostrils filled with the scent of orgasm.

   "Oh John!  I never...."

   "?"

   Suddenly embarrassed, she did not want to admit it was better than
masturbation, as that would be to admit she masturbated, and she was
ashamed of that too.  The young girl still had a way to travel on the road
to guilt-free pleasure.

   "I mean it was good, John.  Can I?"

   He knew what she wanted.  To kiss his cock, feel it.  He had taken
viagra so he was not worried about cumming....  would easily repeat, and
with this innocent little beauty he probably did not need the blue pill. 
However, he wanted her first real sex to be life-changing for her and that
meant....

   "Later, sweetie.  First...."

   He rolled her over on her back again, tits standing so pert, belly so
flat between the twin peaks of her hip bones, mons so rounded and smooth,
lips now so puffy and swollen, clitty peeping out stiff under its fleshy
hood.  The lips were so open, glistening after her orgasm: he had not
penetrated her with his finger.  No!  His cock would be the first for her.
Old Harbottle had said the there had been a hymen but he had cut it ..  so
here goes.

   He lay between her legs and she felt his weight pinning her to the
blanket, then the pressure of his penis, its flaring head pressing between
her lips, seeking out her....

   "Oh no!  Please, no!  We shouldn't...."

   "But we will."

   This young girl's anatomy was perfect for sex, and laying as she did his
cock pressed unerringly at the entrance to paradise.

   So she felt that knob penetrate where only her own finger had ever been
before, and then as his hip pressed down, the shaft sliding into her
stretching her virgin cunt way beyond the reach of her probing fingers. 
She felt it touch the end of her vagina at the very moment his hairy pubic
bone tickled her waxed and shaven pubes.  There was no pain, which she had
feared.  It felt dreadfully full up there....  but she knew he was big from
the sex-education session her governess had given her.  Men had six inch
penises Miss McClochan had said: well, his must be half as long again as
that, and broad too.

   He pulled it out as far as the knob and gently pushed it in again: in
this position something....  it must be the shaft of his cock....  rubbed
against her clit and that was good, but she seemed to have feeling right up
her vagina.  It hurt a second when his cock hit the end, but not enough to
spoil the pleasure.

   She found she was gripping his back, arms round him, and without
thinking she bent her splayed-open legs so she could cross her ankles over
his buttocks.  He was heavy, and she had to turn her face sideways so she
could breathe.  Her face was pressed against the mat of curly golden hair
that covered the muscles of his chest, her breasts crushed against him . 
His cock was moving steadily in and out now, and she heard herself give a
little squeak every time his knob hit her cervix.  The chorus "oh", Oh,
Oh!" was music to his ears.  She would cum a second time very soon.  He
raised himself on an elbow and speeded up, crashing his pubic bone into
hers, cock raking her clitoris, the "oh!  Oh!" becoming an almost singing,
continuous cry.  Soon!

   He managed to control his own surging excitement and was rewarded by the
feel of her orgasm beneath him, her body tensing almost rigid and then as
her vagina gripped his cock with young muscles she came, the first spasm
raking through her body, the shout replaced by a throaty grunt.  Each of
five spasms...  he counted them to take his mind off his own urgent need...
was accompanied by that grunt, that gripping.

   Then she relaxed, and he raised himself on his elbows and looked at her,
her eyes now dreamy and remote, a wisp of sweaty blonde hair over her brow.
He bushed it aside gently and kissed her brow lightly, tasting the salty
sweat.

   "Oh, John.  I never knew..."

   "Shh!"

   He pulled his cock out, temporary relief, and turned her over on her
side.

   "Oh no!  Leave it in, John."

   "Of course, sweetie."

   She felt his cock pushing against her cunt-lips.  She was laying on one
of his arms, that hand cupping her breast.  He had his other arm over her
using her breast to pull her close to his body.  Then it left her nipple
and she felt it on her crotch pulling her lips apart so his knob could get
into her cleft from behind.  He was going to fuck her from behind.  She was
astonished: Miss McClochan had only explained the position he had used
first, laying on top of her.  This was all the more exciting for being so
unexpected.  Again she felt the knob pop in, and the shaft slide up inside
her, hitting the cervix even more strongly than before as his hairy thighs
met her smooth bottom.  His hand was on her pussy now still parting her
lips but with his finger rubbing her clitty just as she did when alone in
bed,
This was delicious....  the cock so strong and powerful and his
tree-trunk thighs smacking her bottom.  He grasped her hand and pulled it
downwards, pressing it against her pussy.  He wanted her to finger herself
while he fucked her.  This was delightful beyond her nightly imaginings,

and she entered into it eagerly.

   He now had a firm little breast in each hand, his cock in a tight
vagina, and could feel the activity of her hand, fingers busily titillating
her clit and cunt-lips.  He hoped she would cum quickly and release him.

   She did!  Again that singing, moaning squeak and then the grunt of her
first spasm, gripping his cock deep inside her, allowing his to let his own
orgasm begin, first in his arse as usual, and then rising up his shaft the
pleasure so intense as to be almost pain.  His cock was still deep inside
her when he heard the second grunt and that tight vagina milked the first
gusher of hot cum.

   Alexandra knew he had cum.  She had felt his cock incredibly seem to get
even bigger, but perhaps that was just her cunt constricting as she
spasmed. Anyway she knew he had spurted his semen inside her...  and she
was glad.  Now he pulled back and bashed it in again and she realised he
had squirted again.  This thought made her spasm and she grunted,.  again
he withdrew and crashed in again, again the spurt.  And again once more.

   And then as she held her tits more gently and fucked slower her orgasm
died away, and they lay there, his cock still twitching but nowhere near as
big, until with a feeling of loss she knew her vagina had expelled the
intruder.

   Both astonished by the power of their orgasms, the intensity of the
pleasure, they lay there quiet for several minutes.

   She spoke first.

   "It's as good as they say it is, John.  Better!"

   "It's not always as good as that, sweetie.  That was special.  You are
special."

   "I think I love you, John."

   'Fuck!' He thought.  That could get complicated.

   "It's just the sex was good, Alex.  That's all.  Let's swim and cool
off."

   She was a good swimmer, better by far than The Lord Protector but she
had taken a girlish delight in splashing games, in swimming underwater and
surprising his with bum or cock gropes, in balancing on his shoulders legs
around his neck provoking memories of his cunilingus.

   There were no towels, and they lay in the sun to dry off, he playing
with her nearest tit, she combing her fingers through his chest and pubic
hair, sometimes teasing his cock into half-erection.  The hair was golden
and wirier than her pubic hair had been before Captain Holdsworth had
carefully waxed and shaved it all off.  She knew what she wanted to try
next but was still too shy to ask him.

   She had been about to ask if she could hold it, kiss it, and she was
sure he had guessed as she must have been staring at that huge cock when he
said "Later."

   She nerved herself to try again, and this time was less shy about
getting the words out: after all she was no longer a virgin she thought,
and giggled.

   "Share the joke with me, sweetie...."

   "I was just thinking how nice it would be to kiss it."

   She paddled her fingers down over his belly, following the treasure
trail of curly hairs and gripped his cock in her small, soft fist.  The
shaft immediately grew to something like its full glory.

   "And my balls, too, Alex.  I love that."

   Giggling at her own audacity she got astride him giving him a
superlative view of her cute bottom, so slender as to be almost boyish if
it were not for their so-feminine roundness.  He placed a palm on each
globe and parted the cleft to reveal that secret rose, her still-virginal
anus, and the now puffed and excited cunt-lips that certainly did not have
a virginal appearance.

   He was about to say how lovely she was from behind when his words were
replaced by a gasp of pleasure as the young girl slipped his knob between
her lips and he felt the warmth and wetness of her mouth.  Either she had
read something, or perhaps a porn video had escaped the inevitable parental
controls (nanny-controls he guessed in her case).  Whatever, she knew how
to give head, bobbing up and down on it, her lovely arse wriggling as she
did so.  He watched and sometimes caressed it, sometimes allowing his
finger to tap on her anus or caress her cunt-lips.  Mostly it was enough to
lay back and enjoy the stimulation, interspersed with episodes of licking
and kissing his ball-sack or running her tongue up the sensitive front of
his cock.

   Once she took a ball wholly into her mouth.

   "Careful!  Can be tender..."

   "Oops!  Sorry.  Like this is best?"

   She had the whole of his cock in her mouth to show what she meant, and
was sucking hard at the same time fluttering her tongue up and down the
shaft: her tiny hand cupping his balls, sometimes nipping and pulling at
the skin completed the delight, he would cum soon.

   He wanted her to swallow.  Should he warn her.  No!

   But make sure she did swallow nonetheless....

   "When I cum, swallow all my semen, sweetie.  Swallow all my cum."

   All she did was to start bobbing up and down on it again, and he could
feel the orgasm building.  the second was always more powerful than the
first, though probably not so much spunk, he thought.  Not long....

   "Ah!  yeeees!"

   She did not gag.  But she had to swallow desperately to get it all as
three gushers filled her mouth one after the other.

   No taste, she thought.  Or not much.  But a nice slippery feel, and it
adhered to her palate and she guessed her throat.  She liked it, but being
fucked was better.  Perhaps she should have masturbated while she sucked.
She would next time.....  or get him to suck her off at the same time.

   He wanted to kiss!

   She guessed he wanted to taste and feel his cum on her tongue, in her
mouth as his tongue penetrated it.  This was good sex, she thought.



   Chapter 3 AStrid.

   Over the next month Alexandra realised she had fallen on her feet.  The
only down-side was that she missed her sister Vikki.

   Her up-bringing had made her a loner: yes, the suits who controlled the
Royal Household provided her with "playmates", but how can you be friends,
let alone bond with children who are instructed to always call you 'Your
Royal Highness', and are supervised totally all the time.  Her late father
was a remote personage wholly concerned with affairs of state or shooting
various small birds or large animals, and seldom seen in the several
palaces where his wife and children lived.  She was sorry he had been
killed, but not upset, to be honest.  Her brother was just a wimp...

   Her mother was another remote one, in her case soured by a forced,
unhappy marriage her intelligent daughter guessed, correctly.  Long ago
Alexandra had promised herself she would not be forced into a marriage of
convenience, probably almost without sex, to some bloody princeling from
Central Europe.  It was amazing how the three kids had ever been conceived
considering how seldom The King slept with his wife....  even slept in the
same palace.  Seldom?  Bloody never!  No wonder her mother was vinegary:
the poor woman did not even have a chance of secret lovers with the
Security Guys always there, and doubtless reporting to The King if
necessary.

   No.  The Lord Protector appreciated his fourteen-year-old nymphet and
above all knew how to make her cum and cum and cum.  She loved the sex with
him, the centre of her being now....  and he knew so many positions.  She
hoped he would want her tonight and it was not one of what she called his
nights off.  They could fuck.  He knew how to use his mouth on her tits,
his tongue up her vagina, his lips on her clit, too!  Fuck!  She was quite
damp just thinking about it.  She would wear her see-thru black night-dress
for him tonight: he loved sexy lingerie and had not seen that yet.

   The Queen....  ex-Queen....  too had fallen on her feet.  Frankly life
had been boring, dreadfully dull until the coup d'etat.  That had been
frightening at first, but Brigadier Mellors had taken advantage of his
beautiful, stately, repressed captive and was using her as his sex-toy. 
Often, thank God!  She had enjoyed more sex in the last two weeks than in
the preceding fifteen years!  The man was insatiable, and into group sex
too, at least sharing her with his fellow officers.

   Good for their morale, she guessed, and certainly good for hers.  The
memory of that first night of love-making, pure, raunchy sex in fact, when
the bedraggled captive of the day before was transformed into a sexy whore
made her damp just to remember it.

   The first night she was allowed to sleep, but the next morning a severe,
and as she now knew lesbian maid bathed her, Washed her hair and set it,
dressed her in outrageous lingerie, and delivered her to the waiting Harold
Mellors.  And what an introduction to her new life that had been: she
smiled as she remembered how shocked she had been, still with the
repressed, priggish, puritanical attitude her narrow upbringing had cursed
her with.

   The maid was called Abbi, short for Abigail, and she spoke with a
fascinating French accent and almost a baritone voice: even her voice was
sexy!  She was a bit bossy, too, something The Ex-Q was certainly not used
to, but something she tolerated without protest, a proof of how disturbing
the events of the last day had been.....  the last week since the riots
began.

   I have drawn your bath, madame, so you will disrobe now.  That voice was
commanding, but seductive too, inviting willing compliance.  Later she
established that Abbi was indeed French, born in the island of Martinique.
The Ex-Q was not used to being addressed without the usual 'Your Royal
Highness' but within the day Abbi was calling her by her Christian name,
Astrid, and controlling the minutiae of her life.  She was also not
accustomed to being naked in the presence of anyone else, though she knew
she had nothing to be ashamed of, she knew she was lovely as all the
tabloid press stressed that.  The evidence of her own eyes convinced her
that this was not the usual flattery!

   As for Abigail, a real connoisseur of feminine beauty, she enjoyed
watching Astrid slowly and shyly disrobe.  Her beauty was not just in her
conventionally lovely face with those deep blue eyes and long blonde hair:
her breasts were small but for a woman in her early thirties exceptional,
so firm and pert, more like one of her teenage love-girls than a mature
married woman, but with larger aureoles and longer nipples.  After all she
had three children though almost certainly had not suckled any of them. 
Married?  Abigail smiled as she mentally corrected herself.  'Widowed',
though she showed no signs of grief.

   Obviously she was not into sunbathing, her whole naked body milky white:
this was the sort of fine complexion that could not tan well, so she was
wise not to try.  Her breasts were delightfully pale, with just the hint of
blue in one place on each tit where a vein was near the surface of her fine
skin.  The nipples were standing, which was promising: it was warm, so it
was not cold air: it had to be sexual arousal, despite that shy smile, and
the modest down-cast eyes.  The woman needed to be liberated, and Abbi was
the one to do it!

   Her arms and legs were slender, but shapely: the arms and elegant hands
of a woman who never worked....  not ever!  Her shoulders were slender,
scarcely muscled at all, but so was her waist, so with those smallish
breasts the whole body was in proportion.  No fat on that delicately
rounded belly, not so rounded as her mons with its pretty triangle of
golden hair, a deeper blonde than her ash-blonde head.  Those trim ankles
and slender legs drew the maid's eyes inevitably up to the woman's pussy:
the lips were full and generous like her facial lips, but tight closed. 
The clitoral hood hid her nub entirely.  Her bum was very womanly, rounded
and smoothly white, jutting provocatively when seen in profile.

   She was to die for.  Abbii felt her juices flowing!

   She took Astrid's hand and led her to the bath: in a way this was even
more shocking for the Ex-Q: no-one would have dared to hold her hand and
lead her anywhere.  No-one.

   She half expected an old-fashioned, antique bath-tub, matching the
mostly eighteenth century furnishings of the palace, but this bathroom was
at the leading edge of modern style....  the tub being round and deep
enough to sit in with warm water up beyond her breasts, but also with a
marble shelf to sit on with only her lower bum in the water.  Abigail
tipped a few drops from a bottle into the warm water, and the room was
filled with the perfume of roses.

   "Soak a few minutes, and then I will wash you, madame."

   Abigail had been wearing a long, white cotton gown, much the same as
surgeons and other medics might wear.  Alexandra stared as the maid lifted
the hem and pulled the whole off over her head.  She was stark naked
beneath.

   Astrid had never seen a real live naked woman before....  though she
had, like everyone.  dabbled a bit in the internet.  She knew all her
laptops and phones had 'parental controls' applied by her late husband and
his lackeys, but with perseverance you could find the occasional picture!
But never one like this, and she just had to stare, to the hidden amusement
of Abigail.  She, too, knew she was sexually attractive, and had a legion
of female conquests to prove it....

   Astrid was never to forget the impression that first shocking,
life-changing sight of the naked Abbi had on her repressed, even
puritanical habits of thought.  The woman was black.  Not brown: black and
her skin sort of glowed as if oiled, fine and silky.  The first thing that
registered, naked or clothed, was that her head was clean shaven, and shone
in the electric light.  Then her face, not African in form, but with high
cheek-bones, very full lips, purple lip-stick, and deep, dark eyes.  A
lovely and almost hypnotically beautiful face.

   Her body was muscular, in a way Astrid would not have deemed possible in
a woman...  broad shoulders, and arms that while not massive had defined
biceps.  But after her head, it was her breasts that really held the
innocent woman's gaze.  They were larger than her own, but just as firm and
pert, ebony black, and with long black nipples so erect as to seem to be
pulling those rounded tits outwards and upwards on invisible strings. 
Astrid could see that beneath the softer flesh of her bosom there was hard
muscle, and that was the secret of their sexual attraction.  For by now
Astrid was feeling sexual attraction, amazingly as this was new.  Never
before for a girl or a woman, not even in her masturbation fantasies.

   The girl was all muscle....  her belly as flat as any man's, and her
bottom, though rounded, was small and tight.  Those hips, too, had strength
in them.

   Astrid had never seen another woman's pussy, not even her daughter's,
but she knew she might never see another quite as lovely as this.  There
was no body hair, none at all, just that rounded mound of ebony flesh
leading down to half-open cunt-lips.  She could see the maid's clitoris
peeping out.  She longed to finger her own pussy, but obviously that was
not possible in the presence of another person!

   Her reveries were interrupted.

   "Sit on the seat, madame and I will soap you."

   Strong hands on her back and belly, under her shaven arm-pits and
finally her breasts.  She felt that any more stimulation of her nipples and
she might disgrace herself by having an orgasm.  But the maid told her to
stand up on the bench.  Two black hands levered her legs apart and she had
to suffer the sweet humiliation of soapy fingers around her anus, and then
in the cleft of her pussy, prising the lips apart to cleans within.  It was
shaming....  but exciting too.

   You may never have known this before, madame, but from now on you will
be clean outside, but inside too.

   An enema!  She had sometimes used a vaginal douche in the early days of
her marriage, when there was still occasional sex, but never an anal
douche. It was shocking and humiliating as the black woman greased a two
inch long nozzle and eased it into the Ex-Q's anus, then squeezing the
attached rubber container of warm water so Astrid could feel her rectum
filling, a strange but not unpleasant sensation.

   "Hold that inside you for five minutes: I'll time them, and the squat
over the bidet and expel it all...."

   She did all that, and was glad to sit again on the bath-bench while the
maid again soaped her buttock cleft, before holding her hand as she stepped
down, and wrapping her in a huge, soft towel.

   "Not done yet.  Lay down on your back, legs apart, if you please,
madam."

   The pussy lips were to be waxed free of hair, and the pubic triangle
reduced to an inch-wide square drawing the eye down to the clitoral hood.
That had been the Brigadier's instruction.  He knew how he liked his women!

   "Why the douche, and why are you waxing me?"

   Her voice was timid rather than angry.

   "We have to suffer a bit to serve the Brigadier, madam."

   "Serve him?  How?"

   She could guess....  but that would be too gross.  She had just been
widowed!  He could not want to violate her, surely?

   That's a question you might ask him when you see him this afternoon. 
You might just as well ask me how your maid has been instructed to serve
you."

   "How, then?"

   "My job is to present you as a desirable woman, to wash you, prepare
your body, dress you as the Brigadier specifies, and pleasure you. 
Actually I added that last bit myself, madam."

   And she leaned over the beautiful form and place a kiss on the
newly-hairless cunt-lips.  Astrid gasped, but did not close her legs.  Now
the maid had her hand on Astrid's pussy, opening the lips and applying her
mouth to the clitoris, standing firmly erect.

   Her breast brushed Astrid's thigh, and this prude shuddered with the
stimulation.  She could feel that nipple hard and now the firmness of the
breast gainst her thigh, black on white when she looked down their bodies,
as the lesbian brought all her expertise to pleasuring that clitoris, those
pussy lips, that seldom used vaginal entrance.  Now Astrid did close her
legs around her maid's face...  delightful ear-muffs...  and looked down at
the rounded perfect-shaven head.  She could not hold back and no longer
wanted to.  If this was the action of a fallen woman, then so be it.  A
huge spasm coursed through her body as Abbi lapped up the spicy juice of
her arousal.

   " I think you are ready for the Brigadier, madame.  Just this."

   The oil she spread on and slightly into her mistress' anus was the same
rose-scent as the bath water.

   "I think you can drop the 'Madam' after that delight kiss.  'Astrid',
please, at least when we are alone.

   "And 'Abbi' me, Astrid.  Now we just have to dress you.  That matters
too...

   Chapter 4: Alexandra again.

   As it happens at the very moment her mother was remembering the
unexpected and life-changing pleasures of her first night at the Special
Forces Barracks with her dashing Brigadier, her daughter, equally happy
with life in The Palace with her super-sexy Lord Protector, was about to
learn that life was not necessarily a bed of roses.

   Captain Holdsworth (Alexandra knew her name was Molly but did not dare
to use it) Captain Holdsworth had laid out unusual clothes for her
near-nightly visit to her new owner.  Usually it had been the sort of wear
lower-class girls used when they were on a night out, clubbing, passing out
drunk in the gutter to the hypocritical disgust of voyeuristic newsreel
reporters and cameramen etc.  But tonight it was different.

   The lingerie was black, not the happy pastels she was used to.  The bra
was under-wired and platform giving her breasts much more cleavage than
they had naturally, and the near-transparent silk showed her nipples and
aureoles as shadows beneath the glossy fabric.  The suspender belt was
scarcely more than strings of black lace, and she had never worn one
before, so her minder (yes, she knew why she had been given a military
companion, to make sure she stayed in-line as it were) Captain Holdworth
had to help her fasten the glossy black fully-fashioned stockings, warning
her how easy it was to ladder them, and how they had to be perfect, seams
straight for her Lord Protector.  Usually she had been given thongs for
panties, but these were fuller, tight across her hips in a straight line,
not her waist, black satin at the back, but again near-transparent at the
front.  She giggled when Captain Holdsworth pulled them tight at the crotch
so the shape of her pussy was shamelessly exposed.

   The dress was a figure-hugging silk tube, high at the neck but barely
covering her bottom at the back, exposing her nylon-clad thighs almost as
high as the stocking tops, scarcely a couple of inches below that
camel-toe. Black high-heel shoes with straps up over her trim ankles,
higher heels than she had ever worn before.

   Her make-up was heavier too.  deep purple for her lips, matching the
nail varnish she had applied to her toes and fingers, and mascara.  Her
hair, usually loose to her shoulders or in a childish pony-tail was braided
in a plait that reached almost to her waist, and shone in the light.  She
looked older she thought, and not at all innocent when she examined herself
in the long mirror.

   "You'll do!"

   By the time Captain Holdsworth had walked her along the corridors and up
and down the stairs of the rambling palace to get to the Lord Protector's
suite she had got used to walking on the fetish heels.  When they passed
Palace Servants or officials on their way she could see the lust in their
eyes, men and women alike, and knew she was sexy, gaining more ogling and
nudging winks from a couple of maintenance men working together.  She was
used to this, but some of them were open-mouthed, and she could see sudden
bulges in their denim boiler suits.

   As usual she was left alone to open the great mahogany doors.

   The Lord Protector was at his desk.  He looked up, and, unusually, got
up as she closed the door behind her, standing in a near-cheesecake pose,
one foot slightly in front of the other.

   Now her new master did something he had not done before.  He came over
to her at the door, turned her round and pulled her close to him, none too
gently.  She could feel his cock pressing into the small of her back and
his right hand painfully grasping a breast through the two layers of silk,
his other had on her lower belly, her mons, pulling her close.  He was
whispering, so low she had to strain to hear.

   "My sweet little slut.  My toy.  My plaything.  My girlie whore.  My
randy little bitch-girl.  My fuck-angel, My sexy little sex-slave,
Slattern."

   The tone was soft, but the words were gross, almost cruel, and he had
never used them in the two weeks she had been visiting him almost daily. 
She was, of course, his prisoner but she had never heard him claim
ownership so openly, nor had she heard that almost sinister gloating tone
of voice.  Before, he had been gentle not only in his manner but in his
language, that of lovers, not of male and whore.  He was different
today....

   Suddenly she was frightened.  Still excited by his hands, and the feel
of his erect cock, but scared at this change in him.

   Roughly he turned her round and clamped his lips to hers, almost
painfully, his tongue forcing its way in.  He bit on her lower lip and
pulled at it with his teeth.  She yelped, and she heard noise of the zip at
the back of her dress being pulled down, none too gently.  He pushed her
away from him and the black silk fell in a pool around her ankles.  A hand
on each naked shoulder he forced her to her knees, and she looked up at him
a mixture of fear and bewilderment on her face.  Where had this heavy
handed forcefulness , almost violence come from in a man she considered
loving and gentle, a perfect considerate lover.  He said nothing, but
unzipped and his cock sprang out.  Well, she knew what that meant.

   As he felt the warmth and wetness of her lips on his glans he recalled
the coded message Brigadier Mellors had sent him which had proven the man's
worth: he was probably their most skilled tactician in up-front battlefield
action, and now he showed he could apply that same tactical ruthlessness to
a very different objective.  The Queen had been successfully "whored",
taking to the new role not just with willingness, with eagerness too.  He
had taken her in all three of her available orifices, and after a bit she
had learned to orgasm not only with vaginal sex, but with oral and anal too
as long as she or another stimulated her breasts and clitoris at the same
time.  She had willingly accepted the first orgy with Mellors and two
chosen officers, excelling to the point of being double-plugged and spit
roast all at the same time.  She actually orgasmed when tied up and beaten,
Recently she had spent her evenings in the Officers' Mess, where as a
panty-less and top-less barmaid, she was able to make up for many years
sex-starvation.
She had herself suggested she could be good for morale, too, among the
non-commissioned officers, and even a selection of the youngest, fittest
squadies.  "Could be a reward for excellent service", she suggested.  Yes!
She was a whore now.  For security reasons she was now a brunette, and
known as Isabel, or "Lizzie" to the troops....  Mellors was leaving it to
his officers to decide when the men should be invited to the feast but

thought it would be soon.

   Sterling fellow, Mellors, if a bit long-winded.

   Now This little girl was beginning to be a bit "samey" after a full
month fucking her.  He recalled those young girls, refugees from shelling
and reports of enemy atrocities, lovely little things, and so freely
available to officers in the "peace-keeping" force.  He had been young
then, a junior officer, but those little tarts had been instrumental in
defining his sexual preferences.  Young girls....  say ten to fifteen at
the extremes, 12 to 14 best of all.  Well now he was in effect the
uncrowned King....  much more powerful than any King or Prime Minister ever
had been, Dictator, though that word was now forbidden and treasonable.  So
he could certainly have his choice of young girls, daughters nieces or
grandaughters of traitors.....

   The ex-princess was becoming "clinging".  Fuck!  He did not want the
girl to love him, just open her legs.....  and the rest as she was doing
now, looking up at him with such idolisation...  Mellors had the right
idea, and her "whoring" would begin today.

   He had stoked up on viagra....  and might need it.

   Fuck!  But she looked good in sexy lingerie and those killer heels: he
should have had her dressed tarty before.  The last teenage girl dressed
for the brothel he fucked was several years back, a cutie in her white
basque but the contrast of the white on her chocolate brown was nowhere
near as sexy as this black on milky white.  That girlie had been a willing
whore until he and the two pals he went whoring with decided they wanted
her anus after each plugging her cunt and her mouth.  She had protested she
was an anal virgin, had tried to fight them off: finished up with her tied
on the iron bed, sobbing her eyes out and yelling blue murder.  Seems
whoring was ok but fucking in the arse was evil: strange thing,
religion.... It had needed a good sized bribe to shut the Madame up, but
had been worth it.  Shit!  Among all the little girls in his full life she
was one of the few he could remember clearly.  Probably the bondage....

   He wondered how this well-bred and privileged maiden would accept anal
sex.  Well he would soon know....  and she could shout as much as she
liked. The special chamber was a converted "interview room" and
sound-proofed.  Might be amusing to tie her up: his cock twitched in
agreement.

   In the last month the room had been redecorated and the crude, rough
timber and iron torture furniture had been replaced by black leather
covered equipment that nonetheless served almost the same purpose as the
original "interrogation" gear.  Any whips etc that were suitable for sexual
play as opposed to intelligence gathering had been left in their racks
pinned to the walls with additional butt plugs, dildos and similar.  A
steel cabinet with a combination lock contained chemical substances.  The
original ceiling spotlights had been left, but the room was now carpeted.
It was in an older part of the Palace, one floor down from the present
ground floor and in fact hidden under the terrace leading down to the
gardens, and the stone vaulting gave a satisfactory Gothic ambiance to the
"playroom".

   There was no real need to frog-march her out the door and down the
stairs to the newly furnished chamber.  But tonight it amused the Lord
Protector to worry her, frighten her, soften her up for the rare pleasures
he had promised himself.

   The door shut with a suggestively clunky click behind them and she
looked around the threatening room.  A single spotlight picked out a sort
of bench, black leather curving towards the middle, and with brass rings at
each of the four lower corners.  It looked sinister and she shuddered. 
Worse still was a black leather covered St Andrews Cross standing free and
about six feet tall, again with brass rings at the ends of the
cross-pieces, and a larger ring at the centre post that supported the
whole. The vaulted stone ceiling looked like a medieval dungeon and had
iron rings bolted into it, one of which had a rusty chain dangling from it.
It was beginning to look very frightening, and she could not find any
words.

   Which suited The Lord Protector, who had lots....

   None too gently he pushed her down onto the hump-backed bench her bottom
in the air, her head dangling over the end.

   "Do you know what buggery is, my little blonde angel?"

   "No sir."

   Her voice was faint, timid.  She felt his hands on her buttocks,
stroking them through the satin of her panties.

   "You soon will...."

   Now he had a hand inside her knickers and she felt his finger in her
buttock cleft.

   "I've enjoyed your mouth and your cunt my little sweetie, but you are
still an anal virgin.  You are going to surrender that to me.  I am going
to fuck your tight little arse."

   "Oh, no sir.  Please no.  You're too big.  Don't hurt me, sir.  Please
no."

   So this was why her minder had started to insist she douche after every
shit, starting two weeks ago.  With horror she realised that for all his
loving words he always intended to use her this way.  She might as well
have been a street whore for all he really cared.  This was worse than
everything and she felt tears running down her face.

   "Oh yes!"

   She watched as he stripped naked and just knew that huge, stiff cock
could never fit inside her tight little bottom hole.  How could he think it
would?  The cock waved about as he walked over to the cabinet and unlocked
it, then over to the side wall and unclipped a long knife from it.  The
shape of the knife was outlined in red on the stone where it had been.  He
approached her with it and she closed her eyes.

   But it was only to rip her panties across the gusset, and cut her bra
straps.  He replaced the knife.

   "That's better."

   From the cabinet he took a bottle with a spray attachment and she felt
the oil splash into her buttock cleft.  He dropped the bottle to the floor
and she felt his fingers in that secret place, stroking, slipping in the
oil.  She gasped as a finger entered her.  Not her cunt!  Her bottom.

   "Lovely and tight, sweetie.  This is going to be special."

   His weight on her, his cock pushing at her tight clenched anus.

   "No!  Not there.  She struggled to escape the weight and managed to turn
on her side.  She balled a fist and hit him."

   "Little bitch.  No more of that!" He slapped her hard on her buttocks
and she yelped, but still struggled to turn over on her back, to sit up.

   She was on her belly again and felt him fasten her wrists to those brass
rings.

   "Fight me would you?  We'll see about that, slut."

   He slapped her bottom again, grabbed one ankle and fixed that, then
pulled her legs apart and fixed the other.  He stood back and admired the
naked girl, spread-eagled and now sobbing.  Good, the tears would give a
bit of spice to this deflowering of her male virginity!

   Fuck!  But she was lovely with her cute little arse jutting up like
that. He spread her buttocks and gloated on the pink rose of her anus,
fingering it, penetrating as far as the first knuckle.  He lay on her again
and held his cock to her arse-hole.  Pushed.

   "Let me in, bitch""

   He slapped her again with all his force this time and pushed again.  His
cock, steely-stiff as it was, bent as she clenched her anus.  She was a
strong, fit young girl!

   Poppers!

   To the cabinet again, and pulling her head up by her hair he held the
open bottle under her nose.  She tried to hold her breath, but had to, and
felt a rushing sensation.

   His weight again, and this time the flaring cock-head penetrated.

   She screamed.

   "No.  No.  It hurts.  Oh no, please sir.  It's horrible."

   She was still sobbing, the protests punctuated by those sounds that
would be off-putting to some but to him merely reminded him of other
virgins, other shrieks of pain, other tight little bum-holes.  He pushed in
till his hairy pubes touched her smooth bottom.  She had taken his full
length, of course.  They always did however small, however young.  At least
this one could not struggle, try to fight him off....

   Young girls.  War-time loot.  Young boys too, and those three years as a
senior at school....  so many tarty little boys....

   No quarter.  He fucked her hard, and used all his self-control to make
it last.  At about ten minutes he was in danger of cumming, but he pulled
out and grasped his glans stifling the orgasm.  He smiled.  Cock was clean.
Molly had done a good job preparing her.  Back up her again, and now he
knew he could go on for as long as needed.

   The screams and pleas stopped, and then the sobbing.  He expected this.
Soon she would be enjoying it.

   She still felt betrayed, abused, profoundly unhappy, but the pain had
stopped and that steady pummelling of her rectum was beginning to feel
good....  in her vagina.  She realised that her clitoris was awake and knew
she was becoming aroused.  Angry now with herself for the weakness she felt
nonetheless an orgasm beginning.

   "Yes!"

   He shouted as he felt her body tense beneath him and knew she had cum.
He allowed his own orgasm now, speeding up, his thighs crashing into her
bum, his cock feeling her spasms one after the other.  He shot his load
into her with three huge spurts.

   He pulled out, still stiff.  'Viagra!' he thought as he unstrapped her.

   "You came, bitch!"

   "I'm so ashamed...."

   "You're a real whore now, sweetie.  Passed your last exam!  Time for
more company."

   She lay there and watched him pull a mobile phone from the the pocket of
his jacket laying on the carpet and heard him speak.  OK now guys.  She's
ready.

   She was pulled off the bench and her wrists were tied with plastic
cuffs. Her martyrdom was not over, she realised, as she was then fastened
to the chain hanging from the ceiling, her high-heeled feet spread wide by
a chrome-plated bar with velcro cuffs, one for each ankle.  His cum was
leaking down her thighs from her anus, and her pussy-lips were puffed and
gleaming with her arousal.  Under her shaven mons her clitoris peeped out
between the lips.

   Her master was standing behind her, fondling her breasts when the three
naked men entered.  She recognised two, the big beefy ones with long, broad
cocks.  They were two of the security guards, normally in smart army
uniforms.  The third she had never seen, but he was different, wiry and
slender, older with silver hair.  But he too had a big cock.

   "She's yours, guys.  I've opened her up for you!  Enjoy!"

   The last thing she can remember is being fucked by the two guys, one in
the arse, the other in the cunt.  Cumming and cumming and cumming as they
switched about.  Then she was given a liquid to drink and she passed out.

   -------------------------------------------

   She awoke in bed with a woman with a fantastic figure, scarcely hidden
at all by the short, pastel blue nightie.  Alex herself was naked. 
Sunlight poured in through tall windows, and she felt good, rested.  She
half remembered the last night, but it was as if a dream.  Had she really
been fucked in the arse by The Lord Protector and two marines: it felt as
if she had, so she hadn't dreamed it.

   The woman had been laying down, but she sat up: breasts full but
obviously firm as they pointed out her silk nightdress.

   "Awake at last, Alex.  Feeling sore?"

   "A bit.  Not really."

   We bathed you last night and put you to bed.  Howard is longing to meet
you properly.  I'll call him.

   She picked up the mobile on her bedside table, beside a bowl of orchids.

   "She's awake, Howard, our sleeping beauty.  Why not bring us some
coffee, darling."

   "Is Howard your husband?"

   "Good lord no!  He's a client, sweetie-pie.  I'm a prostitute and you've
been given to me to foster and help me in my work.  It seems you have a
real gift for it!"

   Howard was a middle-aged guy with a certain amount of flab, but after
the coffee he fucked Alex well, then sucked her shaven pussy, and finally
had Clarisse.  When he had gone, Clarisse, too, sucked the girl to a
wonderful orgasm and allowed Alex to return the favour.  Then they got up,
dressed (most of Alex's clothes had been sent over from the Palace: the
rest and her possessions would follow), had lunch in a bistro nearby, and
went back to her flat for her afternoon and evening customers, a young
American couple.

   Now she knew what her former master was really like she was not sad to
be rid of him, and earning a living by doing what she most enjoyed was
certainly acceptable....

   Chapter 5: Victoria.

   Captain Holdsworth could now concentrate on her two other charges.  The
Lord Protector summoned her for a report on progress as soon as he had rid
himself of the teenage girl.  She had been good while it lasted, but he had
as usual soon become sated.  A real man needed variety.

   In principle he would fuck anything human....  Girl, Boy, Woman.  Man.
Tranny, but not for more than a month or two.  Distinctly not the marrying
kind!

   She was smartly turned out, and saluted him, as he was in uniform this
morning.

   "The boy is coming on well, sir, There were no problems with the
surgery, and the wounds have nearly healed.  There will be no scarring
Harbottle says.  Charlotte is wearing a C-cup bra now.  And the drug
therapy is going well: his body shape is beginning to change as it should,
with more rounded buttocks, a slenderer waist.  He is having laser
treatment for his body hair, and the first stage of that will soon be
complete.  He looks like a girl now, and is beginning to behave like a
girl.

   "The psychologist who is teaching him feminine deportment and mannerisms
says he is almost there.  It's probable, she says, that he always was gay,
but repressed it as much as possible in that oppressively stifling family
atmosphere.  Now his new self permits him to desire males without shame.  A
real positive for him.  He flirts dreadfully with the beefy marines, but
they know it is ok to encourage him but no more than that!  He's still a
virgin."

   "So how does he spend his time".

   "Ages bathing, perfuming, dressing, having his hair done, make-up. 
Studies fashion magazines a lot and picks out stuff he wants online.  He is
not allowed to upload of course for security reasons, but I order anything
he wants in clothing, make-up or entertainment.  He seems to collect shoes!
He looks at a lot of porn: mostly gay or transexual, but sometimes men with
teenage girls: the psychologist says he identifies with the girls in hetero
sex.  He is taking dance lessons and has a singing coach.  Oh, he likes
drawing and painting, and does that most afternoons.  He's good.  I have
one of his sketchbooks here."

   "Ha!  Mostly naked men and studies of cocks and so on..."

   "Yes!  He likes painting nude, but not allowed to draw from life......
though he is for ever asking me.  He fancies those big, butch marines
guarding him, begs me to let him strip one naked and sketch.....  and the
rest I guess!"

   "Nearly ready for me, then.  Good work Molly!"

   She glowed.

   "And little Victoria?"

   "Has just had her first period.  Her nipples are growing and she is
forever pulling at them, so I expect they are irritating her a bit. 
Breasts just little pads, but no longer flat-chested.  She started to get a
very fine fluff on her pubes, but that has been lasered smooth, which
should be permanent with a little maintenance.  She really is very pretty.

   "She has had a rudimentary sex education, and more to the point her
laptop has been fixed so she can access a really limited series of
pornography sites, mostly illegal as they specialise in young-old
scenarios. She masturbates and thinks she has been clever defeating the
parental controls.  What you have in mind will be no surprise to her.

   "Excellent!  As soon as the period is done have Harbottle put that
contraceptive implant in, reove any hymen, and send her in me.  I'll tell
you when and what she should wear ...."



   --------------------------------------------

   Captain Holdsworth left her outside the great mahogany doors to The Lord
Protector's office.  She looked in awe at the carvings....  shields and
heraldic animals, all glowing and highly polished.  She touched a lion: it
was certainly polish, not varnish.  She wondered how easy it would be to
open that great door, how heavy it would be.

   Not exactly fearful, as Captain Holdsworth had told her The Lord
Protector was a very nice gentleman, despite being a really brave fighting
soldier.  She said his men, even the common soldiers idolised him as a true
hero.  And everyone that met him found him compelling, charismatic.

   Victoria thought she knew what "charismatic" meant, and had heard it
used of Adolf Hitler, as well as much much nicer people.  But it was
encouraging that he was gentle as well as being fierce.  She knew what he
would probably want to do to her, had seen men doing it to girls even
smaller than her in videos she had found on her laptop despite the "net
nanny" she knew had been loaded in.  She felt she had been quite lucky to
find those.  At least she knew about sex, and also half-knew that itt would
be good.  In fact despite some apprehension she had a pleasant tingling
between her legs.  She was alone in the grand room so she lifted the hem of
her skirt and gave her clitty a feel.  It was hard, and lower down her
panties were already a bit damp.

   She took a deep breath, as if about to do a difficult gymnastic vault,
and pushed the door.  It swung as easily as one a quarter its size.  She
stood in the open doorway: her eyes met her new master's.

   He smiled.  got up and walked the ten paces towards her.

   His cock had stiffened immediately.  She was so right, so cute.  In all
his days he had never had a preteen blonde plaything.  Blonde?  Never even
had a white preteen.  Brown and ebony yes, adolescents yes, of all colours,
but white this was the first and probably the best of them all.  She looked
so cute, smiling shyly, dressed in typical little-girl pink and white party
frock, all frills and flounces, garish pink and silver trainers, and a pink
ribbon tying back her blonde pony-tail.

   He went up to her and frightened her a bit when he put his hands on her
naked shoulders and held her at arm's length looking her up and down and
then straight into her eyes.  She met them for only an instant and then
lowered them, modest and shy as becomes a ten-year-old in the presence of
Greatness, or perhaps a pretty preteen in the presence of a man she
suspected had plans for using her body for his pleasure.  She so hoped it
would be for hers too, but the dvds she had seen showed some little girls
having a wonderful time with their gentlemen, but others sobbing, even
screaming in pain and terror.  Still Captain Holdsworth says he is kind and
gentle as well as being a warrior: so it should be all right.  She
hoped.....

   There was a long pause as he revelled in his fortune.  She was
lovely.....  skin milk-white just as her older sister had been, and hair
just as shining ash-blonde.  The same clear blue eyes, and lips unfairly
full and ripe for one so young.  There was a perfume of lavender, so slight
as to be probably her bath-soap or shampoo: whatever, it was true
little-girl, and would not mask the scent of girlish arousal he loved so
much.

   "No!"

   She looked up at him in consternation.  Wasn't she pretty enough for
him? She knew men liked breasts and hers were only just beginning.....

   "No!  I have never seen such a beautiful girl.  Come with me, and we'll
get to know each other."

   She sat beside him on the antique couch, that was nonetheless very
comfortable and soft.  He put his arm around her shoulder, his open hand
gently pressing the flesh.

   "Tell me what you do to fill your days in the Palace."

   "Oh!  I'm busy, sir.  Miss McClintock has me for three hours every
week-day morning and we do the schoolroom stuff.  Then in the afternoon
it's Ballet and Dance Monday and Friday, Music lesson Thursdays, and I have
a gymnastic coach Mary Figgis Wednesdays."

   "You sound busy.  Nothing Tuesday afternoons?"

   "Oh!  I forgo, sir.  I like to sketch and paint and I'm allowed to keep
the whole of Tuesday afternoon for that."

   "No time for friends then?"

   "I never had friends even before...." She hesitated regretting even
having mentioned indirectly the change in her status, with memories of the
terror and blood that had accompanied it.  To cover her embarrassment she
laughed.  "It's difficult to have friends when they were forever curtseying
and it was Your Royal Highness this.  And Your Royal Highness that.  My
only friend was my sister Alexandra and I do miss her."

   "It's not for ever.  I think you will see her again soon, at any rate
before Christmas."

   "Oh!  Thank you, sir."

   "I think we can be friends and if we're going to be friends, and I'm
sure we are, you must call me Uncle John, or just Uncle, at least when we
are alone.  And I'll call you Vikki, unless there is something even nicer
to call you, like my little blonde angel."

   "Oh!  Thank you, sir.  I mean Uncle..."

   His arm was around her waist now, and then it moved up to where her left
tit would be if she had tits....  Beneath his hand there was just the
suggestion that naked her chest would not be completely flat, and the
warmth of a small pad of breast permeated through the cotton frock.

   "I like your milky-white shoulders.  You are so wise not to sun tan. 
Are you white all over?"

   He kissed her shoulder, a gentle, feather-light touch of his lips that
made her shiver with delight, an electric current going through her body.
Her new friend was having several effects on her, on her heart rate, on her
nearly-breasts but even more on her clitty.

   "I can't tan, Uncle, I just burn red.  I'd like to really."

   "I am glad you are so white and pure, Vikki.  Let me see."

   The dress was secured at the back behind the neck by a simple clasp, and
lower down by a zip.  He undid the clasp and the off-the-shoulder cotton
frock fell forward.  She was wearing a training bra, shiny and probably
silk.  It was a pretty pink against her white skin: it looked as if she had
the start at least of breast-shape, and that her nipples were erectile. 
Unthinking he licked his lips and murmured under his breath but not so
softly that she she could not hear by straining her ears, "Just right."

   "Do you like to kiss, Vikki?"

   She knew he wanted her to say yes, but she had better be honest.

   "I don't know.  I've never been kissed at all.  I often wondered....  I
think I would like it, Uncle."

   He lifted her up onto his lap: she was no weight.  His arm around her
pressed and fondled that slight bulge and stroked it through the
satin-textured fabric.  She went rigid when she felt his wide-open mouth
completely covering hers as she turned her head to him.

   Not only a virgin, and a beautiful one at that, but entirely untouched.
What a treasure.  He slipped his tongue inside her mouth and felt her body
tense a moment, and then relax as she responded.  He pulled at her lower
lip with pursed lips.  and then kissed again.  This time he felt her tongue
enter his mouth.  She shuffled her bottom and now had an arm grasping him.
He cupped her preteen breast through the warm silk: he could feel the pulse
of her heartbeat.  He slipped a finger up under the cloth to feel a small
erect nipple.  He pressed it in and felt it pop up again.

   "You feel lovely, silky soft.  I want to see."

   He fumbled at the back of the bra looking for a catch.

   Vikki knew what he was doing.

   "There isn't one.  It's stretch and you just pull it on.  It pulls up
over my head."

   No breast yet, but the beginnings, two pads of flesh, gently rounded,
white and silky to the touch, tiny pink aureoles and puffy little nipples
that seemed too large for such immature tits.  He fondled a nipple, rolling
it between thumb and forefinger.

   She sighed.  "That's nice."

   He bent his head and mouthed a nipple, nibbling it with his lips,
pulling at it.

   She gave a little moan, and he knew her breasts though small were
sensitive to pleasure.  He sucked on the other nipple and she gave a little
involuntary moan again.  She shuffled her bottom, and he guessed the poppet
was becoming aroused, adjusting her cunt so it pressed down on his penis.
He still sucked her nipples, one and the other, and grasped one slender
thigh up under her skirt.  Every pedos' dream, he murmured to himself as he
slowly and sensually ran his hand up that smooth flesh to her crotch. 
Damp! He rubbed the satin and could feel the shape of lips under the thin
cloth.  He slipped a finger inside the leg of what felt like a tight little
thong.  and felt her legs open just a wee bit more as he fingered her
cunt-lips, from outside her inner cleft still but he could feel the warmth
within.  His touch was clearly welcome.

   He needed both hands to unzip her dress, and Vikki heard the zip slide
down.

   She had been worried that he might not like her chest....  men liked
tits....  but he seemed to be enjoying sucking her nipples.  She knew what
that lumpiness under her bottom meant and wriggled trying to get it to
press on her cunt, which she longed to finger....  or perhaps he would do
it for her like in the videos?  He had already pressed his hand against her
pussy, and that was good.  .

   "I haven't got tits yet, uncle.  Only just starting."

   "How old are you, Vikki?"

   "Ten years...  and five months", she added.  those five months were
important to her as they heralded her first period, the start of her breast
development, and those first fine hairs on her front-bottom.  Though
Captain Holdsworth had the beautician laser them.

   "Your breasts are just perfect for ten years and five months, and I love
them."

   She wondered if she would ever be as happy again as she was now. 
Captain Holdsworth was right....  charismatic and gentle.

   "I bet these panties I can feel match your bra.  Show me."

   She stood up beside him on the settee and the dress fell to her feet. 
He pulled her shoes off and held her as she wobbled standing on the soft
cushion: he supported her with hands round her bottom and his cheek pressed
on that silky-smooth, hairless mons while she stepped out of the frock. 
Yes, a pretty pink silk thong.  He pressed his nose into the damp cotton,
inhaling the spicy scent, enjoying the moment and making sure it was stored
in all its glorious detail in his memory along with many other
recollections of pedo pleasures.  She had a completely hairless pussy, mons
and labia both, the rounded pad of her mons about as fleshy as her new
breasts and looking large given her petite form.  The cunt lips were
generous for her age but tight closed and the tidy little flap of her
clitoral hood completely hid her clitoris.  He had a sudden realisation
that there was nothing as pretty as the clean lines of a pre-adolescent
pussy, naked and so-white, so un-fussy.  He sat her on his lap again and
she rested her cheek on his chest.  She ran a finger over his medal
ribbons.

   "These are all for being brave?"

   "Some of them."

   "Everybody says you are a hero, uncle.  I like heroes."

   She was wriggling her cute bottom again as he stroked her thighs, hips,
belly, breasts.

   "Uncomfortable?"

   "No, it's nice."

   He lifted her bodily again and laid her on the couch.

   She looked so slender, arms and legs shapely and elegant, but so young.
He thought suddenly that a pretty pre-teen girl was like a young foal, so
leggy and fine, so trusting, so dependent.  As she lay with her legs
together her hip bones rose an inch or so each side above her gymnast's
flat belly making her mons seem very large in contrast.  Her pussy was
still tight closed, virginal, and he could see almost the length of the
lips as she lay on her back with that space under her cunt an enticing gap
which her thighs were still too immature to close.  He felt almost ashamed
that all this miraculous beauty merely served to excite his lust.  He
wanted her, and with his great gamble the fortunes of war had handed her to
him for his pleasure.  He hoped for her pleasure too.....  but that was a
secondary consideration.  He would enjoy what he had planned for her all
the more if she could be persuaded to like it too, but if not then so be
it.

   She looked up at him, those clear blue eyes showing just a hint of fear.

   He leaned over her and kissed her navel, which tasted spicy despite the
scent of lavender that her breasts regaled him with.  He stuck a pointed
tongue in and ringed it round and round.  She giggled.  He licked down over
that pretty mound, down to her pussy when she was astounded as she felt his
lips on her labia.  kissing it open--mouthed as if it was her other more
public lips.  Astonishment was replaced by joy as she felt him gently open
her outer lips using the finger and thumb of one hand, and then his lips
and tongue actually in her cleft.  She knew she was wet, and was so
relieved and excited when she realised he liked it, loved it enough to be
licking up and down it as if lapping up that wetness.

   He moved so he was now laying on the bed between her outspread legs, his
face jammed against her cunt.  In the age-old, instinctive feminine gesture
she placed tiny hands on his head, entwining fingers in his hair, and
holding him there.  His face was raking up and down her cleft, and she knew
he must be covered in her juices, which were beginning to fill the room
with their scent.  She also knew he liked that as his whole face, nose and
chin as well as lips rubbed her clit when he bobbed up and down.  Her hips,
too, were moving, and he exalted in her arousal.  No sobbing, tearful
maiden here, just a randy little girl!  She closed her legs around his
head, trapping it, and feeling the roughness of his cheeks against her
tender inner thighs, but loving that too.  So powerful.  So masculine.

   Each time his tongue caught in her vaginal opening she just knew he
would find yet more juice, and each time it passed over her clitty she gave
a little squeak.

   Fuck!  he thought.  This is good!  Not long now.  He redoubled his
efforts, slipping a hand under her to tap-tap against her anus.

   This was her trigger, and he felt her thighs grip his face more strongly
than he had a right to expect from a ten-year-old.  The muscles of her
belly went hard.  He reached up and grabbed a nipple, pulling at it, Her
squeaks became a shout of joy and her whole body tensed, her hips rising
from the couch.  He sucked while she spasmed, and as her passion died away
he lay again beside her, turned her on her side, and kissed her.

   She could taste her scent on his lips....

   They lay silent, both of them amazed, for what seemed a long time.

   "When's your usual bed-time, poppet?"

   "Nine, uncle."

   "And it's already past ten.  I'm keeping you from your bed: you had
better share mine tonight."

   Her heart leaped as he lifted her up so easily, across the room, kicked
at a door, hidden among the wood panelling, across to a very ordinary bed,
big but not antique, and laid her on it.

   "You're very strong, Uncle John."

   He was unbuttoning his military jacket and hanging it carefully in an
open wardrobe.  She could see suits and other uniforms there.  He pulled
his shirt up over his head and she saw the barrel-chest was as hairy as any
girl could want in her first man.  Unthinking, her hand rested on her
pussy.

   He saw that gesture, and smiled.  she was ready for him!

   Shoes in a rack at the bottom of the wardrobe, socks in a heap thrown in
the corner with his shirt.  She watched enthralled as he unzipped and
lowered his khaki trousers.  His legs were covered in golden hair too.  But
her eyes were drawn to those blue-striped white boxers, and more exactly to
the tent at the front.  she knew what that was, had been sitting on it. 
She felt her heart thudding, and her clitty was really awake now, as she
realised she was going to see a big, hard cock for real, touch one for the
first time.  It looked as if it was going to be at least as big as the
dvds....

   But he kept them on as he crossed the room to the bed.

   "Please, uncle.  Show me.  I want to see."

   "Of course you do, Vikki.  But you pull them down...."

   She had imagined this, pulling down the underpants of a big, powerful
male: how had he known this was one of her night-time fantasies?
The cock caught in the waistband and she had to reach inside to free it.
It felt hot and hard, but silky too.  She had to remove her hand to pull
the pants down so they fell to his feet, and he was naked.  As she sat on
the edge of the bed that wonderful penis was inches from her chest. 
Somewhat timidly she reached and held it: She had seen two sorts of cock in
her dvds, and this was the one without loose skin at the end.  She was glad
about that: it was much more handsome.  As she touched it a drop of fluid
appeared in the little slit at the top.  Unthinking she leaned and licked.
No taste, but slippery, and a thread of it linked her tongue with the

flaring helmet until as she lifted hear head the the thread broke.

   "May I kiss you there, uncle?"

   "Of course, Angel, but later.  First I want to kiss your pussy again. 
This time....  Oh!  I'll show you."

   She had a determined, concentrating look on her young face as she
lowered her crotch towards his face.  Astride him she looked down at him,
hands on his shoulders to steady herself.  She was biting her lower lip. 
He looked closely at that promise of paradise hovering inches from his
waiting lips.  She parted her labia with the fingers of one hand, still
taking most of her weight on the other arm, and he saw the shocking red of
her inner lips and the little shining pearl of her clitoris in the second
before he felt her warmth pressed on his mouth.

   She wriggled, She writhed, She bucked her hips so his tongue, lips, even
his nose raked up and down her cleft.  Her thighs pressed against his head
but he could still hear those childish squeaks and innocent expressions of
joy: no adult or even school playground naughty words, just sounds of pure
pleasure.
He fingered her pussy from behind, his free hand holding one buttock
while he opened her pussy with the other.  She was wet.  Very.  He
penetrated her with his index finger and there was no hymen: old Harbottle

had snipped it while examining the girl, as he had been instructed.  Good!

   He felt her cunt contract, gripping his finger and as she bounced on him
even more energetically he heard her grunt: must be genetic he thought as
her orgasmic sounds were so similar to those of her older sister!  As her
spasms died away he lifted her and lay her beside him.

   "My turn now, angel."

   He saw her looking at his cock, and her eyes showed fear, her lower lip
trembled.

   Victoria knew what men do to women, and knew he had been feeling his way
with that probing finger, but his cock was much longer, much broader, and
she had seen on her dvds how men bashed it into their girls.  Only one or
two had been as young as her, judging by their breasts, and those had
seemed in pain.  It had been so nice to be kissed down there, and she hoped
he would be content just to put it in her mouth as she had offered.

   "What do you want to do, uncle?"

   "We're going to fuck, my little darling.  I'm going to put that cock you
are holding so nicely into you vagina."

   He finger fucked her gently, just one or two fucks.  He smiled.  She was
already juicy enough.  Perhaps a bit of spit.

   "It'll hurt me, uncle.  Your too big and wide and I'm very small."

   "You'll be all right.  May be uncomfortable for a minute or two but
after that it will be great.  Trust me.  I know....."

   He opened her legs an inch or two further, which was as far as they
would go, and bent her legs at the knee, Her little-girl hairless pussy
still had closed lips, but the small pink triangle of her clitoral hood
made the larger triangle of her milk-white mons seem all the larger.  He
knelt and lifted her bottom effortlessly to slip a pillow under it.  Now
her cunt was in a better position for his cock he opened the lips and
placed his knob inside the cleft.  He rubbed it up and down a few times,
decided it would indeed need just a bit more lubrication, spat on his hand
and anointed his cock.  Another spit and he smeared it down the shaft.

   Cock caught on the entrance of her vagina, and he rested it there as he
lay over her.  He pushed, and his knob entered.  No Hands.

   Victoria gasped.  But it was surprise, not pain.  Her cunt lips gripped
his cock-head but not so tightly that he could not push again and win a
couple of inches, past her defences.

   Still no complaints.  Thank goodness he had remembered to instruct
Harbottle to remove the hymen.  Another push and he felt his knob touch the
end of her vagina, leaving at least two inches of his cock outside.  She
was, after all, only ten....  and five months, he thought remembering with
a smile.

   "Is that ok, my angel?"

   "Sort of full...  doesn't hurt.  Except a bit when it hit the end in
there......"

   "What I want you to do is to put your nand between us, round the base of
my cock, and hold it, so when we fuck I don't hit the end of your lovely
tight love-tunnel too hard.  Yes!  Just like that."

   Cue long slow fucking.

   He took his time: his plans for the ex-princess rather depended on her
enjoying sex despite being so young, and he knew from experience, though a
long time back, that this was possible even at ten, so he was aware of any
changes in her expression and especially in her cunt.  After a few minutes
of slowly, carefully withdrawing as far as the rim of his cock-head and
then equally carefully inserting again he could feel the tension leaving
her young body, her cunt still tight but his cock moving more easily as she
began to lubricate.

   Then her arm was over his back.  He could feel her heels at the small of
his back as she pulled him onto herself with arms and legs.

   She started a low moaning, keening sound as he speeded up, and her hand
gripping the base of his cock clasped it tighter.  Her hips started to move
under him despite the weight of his body.  Her hand left his cock and
joined the other under his shoulder muscles.

   He was fucking her properly now, sensing an orgasm just beginning.  His
cock, unguarded by her hand, was striking her cervix each time, and each
contact brought an "Oh!", half stifled by her face pressed between his
chest and the mattress.  He fucked her harder, and those "Ohs!" became a
continuous howling, not of pain only but a mixture of pain and pleasure. 
Finger nails dug into his back.  His cock slid easily now.

   Faster and faster.  Fuck!  If she didn't cum soon he would not be able
to hold it in.

   A scream of joy...."Cumming.  Cumming, Uncle John.  Ooooooooh!

   He could feel her cunt tight again, as it had been fifteen minutes
before, but this time her juices were flowing, pumped out by his cock and
dripping down over his balls.  She was tight, but sliding easily it was
delicious for him.  Female sex scents filled his nostrils, driving his own
orgasm.  She spasmed a second time as he was at the peak of a thrust and
his pubic bone pressed hard against her pudenda, squirting hot cum deep in
her, probably right into her cervix.

   Her orgasm lasted as he pulled out and thrust, again spurting, and two
more times before he slowed down, eventually stopping, still deep-impaled.

   Aware of his weight and her frailty he rolled the two of them over on
their sides.  Her eyes were dazed, her hair damp with his and her sweat. 
She looked happy, smiling in a dreamy sort of way.  He decided silence was
best.

   That night she slept in his bed, both of them in that deep slumber only
good sex will ensure.

   With the dawn chorus in the park outside he woke, needing a piss.  She
was curled up against his back, so white and tender.  He sat up and looked
at her, especially her cute little bottom as she lay curled up.  He stroked
her hip and thigh, admiring the gentle curve of her slender body.  As he
got up she turned on her back, still asleep.  Her legs a bit apart he could
see the dry white crust of cum that had leaked out and dried on her pussy
lips.  His cock stiffened.

   He pissed with some difficulty through his half-hard cock, and tried to
get to bed again without waking her.  Unsuccessfully.

   He could see there was a moment of bewilderment as she wondered where
she was, and then the look of joy as she remembered and threw herself on
top of him, kissing him.

   "That was lovely, Uncle.  I meant to tell you last night but you went to
sleep so quick and so did I."

   "I didn't hurt you, angel?"

   "A bit at first, but it was lovely when I came with your big thing up
me. I'm still a bit sore though...."

   "Kiss my cock again, then.  All the way this time.  I'll fuck you in
your mouth instead."

   "In my pussy tonight then?"

   "Sure."

   ..............................................

   So that is how it was the next few weeks....  fuck every night and fuck
or suck every morning.  The young girl soon became eager for it, losing any
vestiges of shyness or inhibition.  She did not even cover herself up when
the valet brought in their morning cocoa and coffee.  The Lord Protector
was amazed, and it must be said gratified to see how readily a pre-teen
(though pubescent) girl could enjoy sex, vaginal and oral, to such an
extent she was for ever demanding it.  Flattering to the ego of a
middle-aged man!

   These were golden weeks for both of them, but as usual he gradually
became bored with her, that boredom shaved into exasperation, and finally
into anger at her constant demands.  Just as she was getting randier and
randier, so he was considering finding a new little plaything.

   He came to his decision.

   That evening Molly was told to send the girl to him dressed like a
whore, and to be ready to collect her back when he had finished with her
for the night.

   Molly knew her master well enough to know what was about to happen, but
was careful not to let Victoria guess that anything was amiss.  She shut
the double doors behind the girl, turned on her heels, and left to await
his call when he had finished with the girl.  She had seen this before: he
was tiring of Vikki, bored especially with her clinging possessiveness.

   He did not stand up as Victoria crossed the room unsteady on too-high
shiny black high heels, Dressed as she was in a slinky black dress, silk
and probably a shift serving as a sexy frock, and only reaching to mid
thigh.  Her legs were so slender, but inviting in those fully fashioned,
glossy black nylon stockings.  She looked what she in fact was, a pubescent
girl dressed as a prostitute, a lamb dressed sheep, to reverse the cliche.

   He smiled: Molly had excelled herself: the make-up was heavy and
bold.....  eye shadow with glitter over the dark blue, black eyebrows and
eyelashes, tarty red lipstick in an exaggerated bow, matching her nail and
toe varnish.

   There was something different in his smile tonight, and Victoria felt a
frisson, a coldness as she saw lust un-moderated by any love: this was a
side of her beloved Uncle she had not suspected.  She was not confident in
these high heels, knew she must look odd dressed like this, and her heart
was beating with sudden panic instead of her usual excited anticipation of
his love expressed in words but above all by his body.

   He stood up: he was naked.  He was always dressed when meeting her,
always, dozens of times.  His penis was stiff.  Wordless but still with
that strange smile he held her to his body, rather roughly, and she felt
his hands on her thighs and then her bottom, under the hem of her dress.

   The Lord Protector felt her nylon-clad thighs and then the soft skin at
her stocking-tops.  He snapped a suspender strap between thumb and
forefinger.  His palm cupped her buttock cheek, feeling its youthful
resilience under the tight silk of her knickers.  Straying across the nylon
it encountered flesh again and he realised Molly had dressed the girl in
open-crotch panties.  Captain Holdswoth had excelled herself: what a gem
she was!

   Still silent, still gloating, he lifted the hem of her slip, and pulled
it off over her head.  Her nipples and aureoles were painted with the same
scarlet lipstick, and it seemed to him the beginnings of her tits were
enhanced by that make-up, not yet cones but certainly more pronounced than
six weeks before, and certainly not baby fat.

   He spoke: his voice somehow more deeper and less gentle than usual.

   "And now, young lady, you are going to give me your last virginity."

   "I don't understand, sir.  We already...."

   "Your male cherry.  I'm going to fuck you in the arse."

   "No, sir!  Please not that!  I'm too small.  It will hurt."

   "You've been living in luxury these weeks, pleasured almost to excess.
Well now, young lady, you are going to start earning your bread, as all
girls with no education and no talent beyond opening their legs have to. 
You are dressed like a whore so just be quiet and behave like a whore."

   "Please....."

   But he was turning her round and bending her over his desk, pulling her
legs apart.  The mahogany was cold against her budding breasts and the edge
of the desk cut into her.

   That discomfort, however, was as nothing beside the pain she was about
to experience.

   He parted her buttocks, his palms sliding on the satin of her panties so
he had to really dig his fingers in to hold her arse-crease open.  He had
often licked that pretty, pink anus, like a little flower in the snowy
white of her bottom, but this time he just placed his knob directly on it.
He spat into one hand and anointed his cock slightly.  He smiled.  That
would be enough to enable entry, but not so much as to spoil the effect of
her virginal, pre-teen tightness.  He had considered oil, but only if it
proved impossible without.

   He pushed.  A momentary resistance and then his cock-head was in her.

   Her scream echoed round the room.



   .......................................

   Molly had met her general's equerry in the corridor and after exchanging
a few words she told him she would have some time to kill before General
Higgs summoned her again: she laughed and waved her mobile at him.  He
always looked so young and handsome in his crisp lieutenant's uniform, much
younger than her, and she could quite fancy him....

   Lieutenant Folyon had fancied Captain Hawksworth from the first day he
had net her.  Seduced by one of his mother's Bridge Club friends at the age
of fourteen he had become rather fixated on older women.  He made his pass.


   "My quarters are just here, handy for General Higgs if he wants me.  Why
not come in rather than wait outside in the corridor: have a drink and a
chat."

   She looked at him: he was very handsome and out of uniform, in that
open-necked shirt and tight jeans bloody sexy.  Since coming down to London
with the general and leaving her two lovers behind (one male, one female
and both heart-broken at her leaving) she had been totally sex-starved. 
she could see this was a come-on from the young lieutenant, but decided to
go with the flow.

   In fact they got down to business quickly and were already kissing and
caressing when the girl's scream rang out.

   "Good lord!  A virgin after all this time!" was the young officer's
comment.

   "Anal's my guess, Jules."

   She could feel his cock stiff against her belly as they kissed, and
reached between them to grasp it...

   "I'm not virgin, not anywhere!  Let's, Jules.  God!  I want it!"

   "Me, too, Molly."

   And they did......

   Meanwhile in his office the general was enjoying the tightness of
Victoria's adolescent arse and the fact that it could accommodate his full
length unlike the girl's cunt.  Funny that!  But he knew it was always the
case with young girls, anus tighter but rectum longer than vagina.  Her bum
was a delight in those black satin panties and as he held her hips he could
feel the firmness of her flesh and the sexiness of those suspender straps.
Her sobs and tears, and increasingly desperate pleas merely drove him to
fuck her harder and faster, his thighs smashing into her buttocks with each
thrust, his balls hanging loose and swinging onto her pussy lips.

   Not interested in anything except his own pleasure he made no attempt to
control his first orgasm.  As she sobbed, he thrust faster and faster,
gripping her hips,fingers digging into her white flesh till he felt the
orgasm beginning as it always did somewhere inside his own arse, and then
that feeling in his cock as the cum started to mount, finally the ecstatic
release, almost painful as the spunk exploded and spurted out deep inside
her, one great gusher for each of five massive thrusts.

   And one spank with each spurt, his open hand striking her buttock, the
sound echoing round the room.

   Down the corridor the lieutenant paused a moment to listen, and the
naked woman laying beneath him giggled.  He re-doubled his efforts and felt
Molly's hand slap his bottom one blow with each thrust.

   General Higgs had done....  but this session was viagra fuelled, and
Victoria's martyrdom was not yet over.

   He pulled out and lifted the girl by her hair, forcing her to her knees
in front of him while he leaned back against the desk.  His cock was still
stiff, and he was pleased to see it was not shitty.  Another good mark for
Molly: she had trained the girl to douche effectively.  But it was covered
with remnants of cum, and he assumed any juices from inside her rectum.

   "Lick it clean, slut!"

   A howl of anguish.....  To be called a whore and now a slut by her Uncle
was just to much.  More tears ran down her face, smudging the mascara and
ruining the eye make-up.  Now she really did look like a pre-teen girl,
raped and humiliated.  frightened.

   But she did suck him, and carried on desperately trying to please him
till he felt ready to fuck her again.

   He lifted her none too gently, again by her blonde hair, and
frog-marched her into the bedroom, throwing her onto the bed where she had
known such pleasure formerly and would now be the scene of her final
disillusionment.  She lay there looking up at that now-threatening penis,
that now sinister smile.

   God!  She was cute.  Not as innocent as she appeared with those tears
running down her face, her hair damp and tat-tailed with her sobbing bent
over the desk.  Not innocent at all!  That slender ten-year-old body had
known a cock in her cunt, her mouth, her arse, had screamed with joy, but
also with pain.  Many grown women had more innocence than this pubescent
girl.  And he owned her, body and soul!  Her nipples were spectacularly
scarlet, dead sexy!  And her pussy was not hidden, framed rather by the
black satin of her panties, completely available to him should he so desire
it, as he so often had.  She was too far gone into despair even to cover
those nipples or that tight-closed cunt with her slender arms, her pretty
little hands.

   He turned her on her belly, none too gently, and reached for the chains
and cuffs at the head of the bed.  He cuffed first her right wrist and then
her left She tried to turn over but the chains kept her spread-eagled.  Her
head was buried now in the pillow, but he could hear more sobs and muffled
pleas.

   "No!  Please, Uncle John.  Why?  What have I done."

   "More to the point what will I do to you, you randy little tart.  Now
shut up, slut, or I'll gag you."

   Sobbing sounds, but no more.

   He shoved under her belly the two thick cushions he had taken from the
couch so her bum was raised to a suitable level and spread her legs.  Ankle
cuffs and chains tightened to stretch her.  She could not move.  He looked
down at her, her shoulders so narrow, her back pearly-white and without
blemish, a tiny, hand-span waist, her cute bottom framed by those panties
and the suspender belt, pussy lips puffy at the back but still white and
pseudo-virginal.  The panties would get in the way.  He did not want a sore
cock if it rubbed against the silk when he fucked her again: it could rub
there in this position.  He grabbed the two lacy strands at her crotch and
jerked ; the black silk tore easily and the tatters of shiny fabric were
smeared with cum leaking over her thighs.  Now he could part her buttocks.

   When he had pulled his cock out her anus was almost grotesquely open, a
gaping red hole inviting further rape.  Now it was tight closed, but he
knew it was still full of his cum, at least such as had not dribbled out as
he marched her to the bed, and he would certainly not need even spittle. 
She was open for him, for a long, chemical-fuelled fuck!

   But first.....

   The whip had a good, weighty feel.  The handle was braided black leather
strips, bound round with copper wire, the six strips finally producing the
whip's thongs.  It had been made for him during his army service in the
Middle East by a craftsman who understood whips.  He had told the old
fellow the lash should be capable of stinging a bum, turning it a blushing
pink, but not of actually breaking the flesh.  The old guy smiled: he
understood the sexual delights of corporal punishment...

   And over the years it had stung up many a bum, but never caused
permanent scarring!  Sometimes it caused orgasm in the recipient, more
often protests and tears, occasionally the tears first and then her orgasm.
(Or his as the General was not altogether unwilling to seduce boys).  On
balance he preferred the tears and cries as that seemed to excite his cock
most: if his pre-teen victim managed to cum that was merely a bonus.
He showed her the whip and then turned her head so her face was muffled
by the pillow and struck that white bottom with its tatters of black silk,
a swinging blow, with a very satisfactory scream.  His cock twitched and a

drop of precum fell to the floor.

   "Oh nooooo!  Please.  Uncle.  I'm sorry if I've done wrong, but please.
It hurts too much."

   "I'll gag you!"

   Three more blows, with the full force of his muscular arms and
shoulders, and her white bum now blushed a charming pink.

   "Please, uncle John.  I'm sorry if i've done wrong.  But I don't
know....."

   "I warned you, whore!"

   He undid her wrist and ankle cuffs and turned her over on her back: she
covered her shaven pussy with both hands more to protect its tenderness
from his whip than from modesty he guessed as he looked down at her.  A
drop of precum welled from the eye of his cock and fell to her white thigh.
He grabbed the tattered remnants of her once stylish, expensive, and sexy
black split-crotch panties and jerked hard at them, pulling till the
elastic gave way and he was left with a handful of spunk-soaked silk.  He
scrunched it into a ball and shoved it in her mouth.

   "I warned you, slut!"

   Wrists cuffed again, spread-eagled.  Her eyes looked up at him imploring
as he raised one of her legs and fixed an ankle cuff to her wrist-cuff. 
Now the other leg, and she was immobilised, body bent and genitals
obscenely naked and visible, He gloated over the sight.  Her anus was now
swollen and red, but had closed again.  He pussy, above that secret rose,
was still white and virginal looking, but seemed so large in this position,
her mound swelling, rounded more than her breasts, and the full length of
her cunt-lips, tight closed and stretched in this position, so tempting to
him.

   He picked his whip up again and allowed the black thongs to sweep over
her frightened face.

   "Traditionally the whore had to kiss the whip....I know you can't, my
little toy!"

   Tears ran down her face again as sobbing she awaited the next attack,
watching as he raised his arm.

   He laughed as he looked down at her naked body, grotesquely distorted
with feet shackled to outstretched arms.  That plump little-girl pussy was
so inviting.  He moved to one side and saw her eyes following him as he
raised the whip and brought the thongs down hard, hitting her belly and
allowing several to strike between her legs, her tender anus and cunt-lips.

   Fuck!  He was ready to bugger her again.  But first three more lashes,
concentrating on her white thighs and pussy.

   Now!  He had to.  Cum was still leaking from her arse as he positioned
his cock and shoved.

   No scream this time, just tears and sobs.

   He could watch her face as he shagged her: still beautiful despite the
wrecked make-up, reddened eyes, sweat-wet hair.  And that slender body with
its whore-painted nipples.  By leaning backward a bit he could see his cock
going in and out, amazingly easily through her now completely relaxed anus.
Still felt tight though.....

   He felt he could keep this up for hours, but suddenly he realised what
he could next inflict on her and that exciting prospect made him cum.

   "Another load for you, slut!  Wait for it....  Yeeees."

   It did not feel like a dry rush, but may have been by now.  Whatever, it
was the biggest and best yet.

   He pulled out.  Not shitty!  wiped it on a towel, poured himself a
brandy, and used his mobile.

   "James?  Still working?"

   "Just finished for the day, sir."

   "Come straight over, James.  I've a little treat for you."

   "I was about to shower, sir.  It'll take me a moment or two to dress
again."

   "Dressing-gown, James.  Straight over.  Come through to the bedroom."

   "Sir."

   Sir James Henderson was Head of the Intelligence Agency before the coup
and since he was largely instrumental in the planning of it was one of the
senior civil servants who kept his job after the coup.  He was also The
Lord Protector's most trusted man.  General Higgs knew James shared his
master's sexual preferences!

   He was, apart from his major duties heading up the huge and growing
secret intelligence organisation, in charge of the Palace's security, which
made it sensible for him to have his bachelor quarters there, and also a
small office for the three young intelligence officers who operated inside
the Palace, and also controlled the beefy marines with their insanely loyal
sergeant.  Much of his daily work was, however, at the huge, but anonymous
Intelligence Department building on an industrial estate in the
unfashionable eastern suburbs.

   He had half an idea what the summons meant, as he recalled the gift of
Princess Alex's pretty pussy his boss had offered him a few weeks before.
He brushed his hair and cleaned his teeth.  That's all.  The dressing gown
was silk with a paisley pattern, and did little to hide his powerful frame,
with just the suggestion of a bulge from his half-hard penis.

   The first thing he saw as he shut the bedroom door behind him was the
general, bollock-naked, holding a brandy balloon....  cock stiff.  The
second was the frail body of Princess Victoria trussed like a supermarket
chicken.....and nearly as white!

   "God!  She's beautiful, sir, even in this battered state!"

   "So you wouldn't refuse a fuck, then.  I wondered if she was a bit young
for you, James.  Not much tit meat yet."

   "She'll do, sir.  I don't need tits to turn me on...  Fuck!  Like you,
I'm into boys too."

   "Well she's yours.  I've just taken her anal virginity so she's open for
you, and her cunt is unused tonight so it will still be good and tight. 
Which do you fancy?"

   "The arse first, sir.  Then perhaps that pussy".  He stretched a hand
down and stroked the white flesh of her cunt so shamelessly offered in her
bondage.  It felt warm to his touch, and he imagined the heat inside her
young body, soon to be gripping and heating his cock, stiff now, and
tenting his dressing gown.

   "You'll find her pussy juicy but tight: probably too long for your cock.
Let's see."

   The silver-haired admitted paedophile slipped his robe off to reveal the
body of a much younger man, tall, fit, and only showing his age by the grey
hair on his chest and around his cock and balls.  Big cock!"

   "Yes!  That will hit the end of her vagina before it's all in.  But
you'll be ok up her arse, get it all in.  She's a lovely fuck.  Here, take
one of these, James.  I want her really shagged tonight, long, hard, and
often."

   The girl was listening to this talk, more like buyers at a slave market
discussing these intimate details as if she was not there, not having to
hear herself dissected.  She sobbed, her in-take of breath muffled by the
panties gagging her still.

   "Ah viagra.  Probably won't need it with this little sweetie.  but may
as well."

   "She's a randy little slut.  Loves it in her mouth and pussy.....  still
hurts her in the arse, but she'll learn.  They all do."

   "Yes they do, don't they.  Well, here goes."

   General Higgs watched as the nearest thing he had to a friend slid his
cock into the girl's arse.  There were no cries of pain this time, no sobs.
She lay there, eyes closed, biting her lower lip, as this second cock in
her young life pounded in and out her arse.

   Her owner poured another brandy and rubbed his cock, watching.  He could
understand how some guys loved grown men's arses: James really was very
handsome, that tiny bum clenching and un-clenching as he rammed his cock
into the young girl.  He did not seem to be hurting the girl: they can get
used to anything eventually he knew, but little Vikki was learning quick.
She had her eyes closed, but was not flinching, struggling, or sobbing. 
Accepting.  Half-way to enjoying the experienced man thought.

   It really was sexy watching this...  a hyper fit guy and a beautiful,
slender, frail pre-teen girl.  A rape, yes, but now no evidence of that
fact.  Damn nearly "whored" as he had promised.

   It did not take Sir James very long to satisfy the first flush of his
lust, and the watcher came at the same time, not quite a dry-rush, but very
little spunk for such an intense orgasm.

   "Brandy, James?"

   "Thank you, sir, I will.  I'm ready now for that pretty, hairless
pussy."

   "Yes!  I like them hairless too!  But I'm done for the night.  Look,
James, you take her back to your room and fuck the living daylights out of
her.  Borrow my whip if you like.  Keep her till tomorrow.  In fact it
would be good if you could let some of your men have a go at her.  Are any
of them into pubescent girls?"

   "Most have served in the parts of the world where we learned those
delights, you and me both John: so yes, several of my guys and one or two
of the marines have that on their security files.  We often in fact favour
paedophiles when recruiting as that gives an extra insurance of loyalty. 
Several of my men will jump at the chance!  Little Vikki is in for a treat.
We'll see how she handles two or three at the same time....."

   "Good.  The more the merrier.  I want her thoroughly whored.  Call
Captain Holdsworth to collect her when they've all of them had enough.  Her
dress is on the floor in my office: have her take it as you go."



   Chapter 6: Charlotte.

   The Lord Protector called a smaller meeting in the Cabinet Office after
his weekly full cabinet meeting.  Only the Cabinet Secretary, Sir Hawkby
Holland, was there from the morning meeting, though arguably another
attendee, Sir James Henderson wielded more real power than any of the
cabinet-qualified heads of department.  Captain Holdsworth too was present,
as was his eguerry Lieutenant Folyon.  Just the five of them, and no
minutes taken.

   James looked as if he had been up all night and all morning, as indeed
he had: red-eyed and subdued.  The two in uniform were somehow less smart
and chipper than usual, though it was difficult to pin down exactly how. 
The Lord Protector surmised that all of them except Hawkby looked as if
they had been out on the tiles or more likely between the sheets!

   "First, Sir James, public opinion around the ex-Royals."

   We have conducted four polls, sir, and of course all our agents have
their ears to the ground and are continually taking soundings, and I am
happy to report that the new regime is strongly supported, and indeed the
support is growing.  The ex-King and his family have long been popularly
regarded as remote, a left-behind of history, and above all parasitical on
the State: the death of the King aroused some interest, especially as there
were two versions.  One cast him as a cowardly deserter running for cover
dressed as an old woman.  The other as a desperate killer, needlessly
slaying a brave soldier in a futile attempt to escape custody and trial. 
But neither version has elicited any sympathy for him.  The ex-Queen and
her children never were popular, and are already largely forgotten.  The
world moves on.

   "Excellent.  Is AStrid still at the Para camp?"

   "She certainly is, sir.  And very much a feature of life there now.  She
is now known as AStrid Lundquist and has a new birth certificate,
naturalisation papers, national insurance, driving licence, passport....  a
whole new persona.  You would have to look closely to recognise her what
with the auburn hair and new bubbly, approachable personality.  Gone the
old stuffy remoteness: Very approachable!  She is only too pleased to
forget her former life entirely, and have it forgotten.  Mellors has done a
capital job "whoring" her as you so graphically put it, sir.  She has her
own quarters in the camp, a real little brothel-suite, and is ecstatically
happy in her work.  They now have a system.  There is a daily lottery and
two marines win the night with her: once they have had her, then they drop
out of the lottery so in time every soldier will have a visit to the well,
as it were.  So no hint of unfairness and she delights in a new pair of
virile, muscular lovers each and every night.  In addition she usually
chooses up to three from the whole regiment each day (and into the night if
she wishes).  She usually has a couple in the afternoon.  She has become a
real nymphomaniac, never happier than when being fucked by one or two
super-fit paras!  It seems she has a remarkable versatility, and is willing
to "try anything" as Mellors put it.

   "We offered her a move, but she refused it.  She has been heard to
regret that there are no women in the camp, but she certainly enjoys the
company of Mellor's house-keeper.  Our files have that striking beauty
tagged as a practising bi-sexual."

   "All sounds very satisfactory.  I will commend Mellors on his handling
of the matter.  Alexandra?"

   "She too has a new persona....  Alice Harris.  She had a happy few weeks
learning the profession of high-class whore by acting as lady's maid to one
of our agents who is a society courtesan.  She was quick to pick up,
accept, and practice all those little complaisances that can make sex
especially alluring and which rich men and women are willing to pay for. 
There are surprisingly few high class teenage prostitutes operating in town
so she was kept busy."

   Ever aware of the nuances of behaviour The Lord Protector intercepted
the smiles exchanged by the captain and the lieutenant.  Ah!  So that was
why they both looked knackered.  All night "learning those little
complaisances".  Well, he could not blame Folyon: Molly had a lovely figure
and at thirty something certainly would have acquired all the little tricks
that prigs call perversions!  Lucky young man!.  He could be tempted
himself.........

   Henderson was continuing not noticing his boss's attention wavering.

   "We judged she is ready to become one of our agents.  You know of our
facility at Palham Parva Monor, sir?"

   "Heard of it, James.  Never had the pleasure of a visit."

   "Good Lord!  We must put that right, sir.  For the benefit of the
others, I should explain that Intelligence maintains a safe-house out in
the west country, far from prying eyes.  As well as the usual de-briefing
functions, we find it useful to have a selection of men and women, boys and
girls trained to give sexual pleasure.  Useful for "honey traps", and most
of the great and the good have enjoyed the particular services they most
favour....  all filmed and filed as useful levers if ever needed.  When
they are not working for the State, as it were, they have plenty of time to
explore their own sexuality with the various combinations of partners the
place offers.  Alice is in her element...."

   "Excellent.  Now, James, where are we with Victoria?!

   "Still called Vikki sir, though we are developing a new persona for her.
She was introduced to "Whoring" yesterday, and has made good progress after
a sticky start.  Leaving that aside, the third and fourth males who used
her last night both managed to produce orgasms in the girl.  The first was
vaginal, while she was in bondage and was being whipped.  The second was
actually anal, with no contact with clitoris, breasts or vagina, and with a
penis in her mouth at the same time.  So she no longer has any fear of the
whip, or bondage, or anal sex.

   "She is resting at the moment, but at the request of Sir Julian Foley
she will entertain Ambassador Matanka tonight, and tomorrow morning, before
the finalisation of the trade negotiations: that was a part of the fee for
buying his agreement and recommendation to his government.  He is on our
files as a sadistic paedophile."

   "Trust he will not damage the sweet little thing."

   "He has been told the payment of his bribe will be withheld if he marks
her....  and despite his massively strong physique his genitals are in fact
on the small size of average, according to Palham Parva.  When he has done
with her there is a waiting list of the great and the good who would fancy
a session with a pretty ten-year-old girl, already sexually trained and
accomplished."

   "Names, sir James."

   "So many, sir: I'll send you the list.  But I think we will start with
Willoughby Carter...."

   "The Archbishop!  Fuck!  The old hypocrite.  Who would have guessed?"

   "An open secret, sir.  Boys and girls between ten and fifteen, but
preferably twelve and thirteen."

   "Alice then?"

   "Perhaps, but Victoria first.  Then there are four of your Cabinet. 
Holmes, Denton, Holben, and Maria Smith."

   "Maria!  Fuck!  We made her Care Supremo with special responsibility for
children!"

   "What a good choice then, sir!  Though her preference is for girls. 
That will expand Victoria's interests...."

   "That's enough, James.  I guess when she is thoroughly acclimatised she
goes to the Manor too.  I said to her once she would see her sister
again....  before Christmas I think I said."

   "The two of them will make an excellent threesome for our clients!"

   "Which brings us to Charlotte.  You will recall our decision to ensure
he could never be offered as King again, never be a focus for plotting. 
Some favoured execution, but a complete character and appearance
transformation was decided as a more humane option.  Captain Holdsworth has
kept me briefed, but you should hear the remarkable progress from her,
yourselves.  Molly?"

   "Charlotte is completely feminised: she was so happy from the very first
to be given lingerie and female clothes, especially the shoes for which her
desire almost amounts to a fetish.  Like most girls of her age she spends a
great deal of time studying fashion magazines, trying her hair in different
styles, experimenting with make-up.  She has told me she always felt
different from the other boys, and deep inside had always felt she was a
girl.  My main role has been to encourage her by praising her beauty: not
difficult as she is utterly ravishing!

   "Her hormonal treatment has given her a feminine form, especially the
butt, hips and waist.  Probably her legs and arms always were shapely and
feminine, and she was never muscular in the shoulders.  The feminisation
seems to have stabilised.

   "Her body hair has been laser-treated and the little that might return
is easily waxed.  The breast surgery is one hundred percent effective,
giving her the pert tits a fit teenage girl should enjoy, large for a
twelve-year-old, but shapely and silky.  Nipples erectile.

   "Speaking of erectile, her penis remains normally effective, and she
frequently masturbates, sometimes looking at herself in her long mirror,
sometimes looking at porn videos on her laptop.  She favours older male -
younger transvestite films as you might expect.  She has been known to
watch transexuals copulating with women as well.  i believe she will be
bi-sexual with a balance towards homosexual.  She flirts with the
marines....  forbidden to them of course, and I must admit sometimes tries
to tempt me!  Her penis is above average size for her age according to Lord
Harbottle."

   Again the Lord Protector caught the suspicion of a smiling eye-contact
between Molly and his equerry....

   "So there we are, gentlemen.  My view, and that of the psychologist in
his report that will be on your desks tomorrow, is that she is now fully
conditioned, and no longer needing the sort of regime we have imposed.  Her
medication will, however, continue."

   "Thank you , Molly.  I really congratulate you on your success with
Charlotte, but also with the other two children.  A job well done.  I
intend to enjoy her favours for a period, and then I suggest we send her to
join her siblings at the Manor."



   .........................................

   She was not due to meet The Lord Protector till eleven a.m.  but had
been up since six filled with girlish desire, and just a hint of
trepidation.  The worry was not so much that he would want to fuck her:
that she ardently desired.  But suppose she was not good enough for him,
suppose she was not feminine enough?

   She checked her pussy, her arm-pits, her legs and arms....  all smooth
and white.  Her body was silky smooth from the softened water in the
shower, her hair shone, her make-up was minimal but sexy....  lip-stick and
eye-shadow only.  Her fingers and toes manicured, and varnished to match
the pale pink of her lipstick, so much paler than her rosy nipples and
aureolae.  She had brushed and brushed her hair till it shone like gold in
the summer sunlight.

   She just KNEW she looked good, and as usual when she studied herself,
gazed at her young body in the long mirror, her penis stiffened.  No!  Not
this morning.  Save it for her first man!

   Captain Holdsworth had warned her she might be staying all night,
("Ooooh!  I hope so!  I do so hope so!"), and she had put her toothbrush,
hairbrush, make-up and a spare pair of panties in her pink and silver
shoulder bag.  Matching her new trainers.

   Captain Holdsworth had held her hand through the corridors, and before
leaving her at the great wooden doors gave her a hug: she knew how nervous
Charlotte must be.

   "You look lovely, my dear.  He will really fall for you."

   This was the first time Captain Holdsworth had as much as touched her,
let alone embraced her, and feeling those firm breasts pressed against hers
she felt her cock rise.  It would spoil the line of her skirt.  Oh well:
nothing could be done about that!

   ................................................

   She knocked.

   "Come!"

   She stood a moment in the open doorway while their eyes met.  He looked
so strong and handsome in a white open-neck shirt and khaki sorts, no socks
and open black sandals.  He could see why the marines, and James Henderson
were drooling over this nymphet.  Totally feminine with her milk-white
complexion, still childlike with slender but shapely legs and those silly
teenage pink and silver trainers.  But from the tartan miniskirt up she was
all woman: her breasts were hidden behind a sort of cross-over green top,
really just a silk handkerchief draped over and tied in a bow at the back.
He wondered if she wore a bra.  Well he would soon find out!

   Her mid-riff was bare, her belly button as cute as everything about her.

   Her face still had something of the clear innocence of youth and her
shoulder length hair shone.

   The mid-thigh length skirt was tented but this was not a boy in drag,
this was a girl with a cock!  And clearly she was as excited as her Lord
Protector himself.

   "Charlotte my dear you look very beautiful this morning." He held her
hand and looked smiling straight in her eyes.  She held his gaze a moment,
but then, maidenly, looked down.  To see his shorts were tented just like
her skirt.  Now she knew she would not still be a virgin by the end of the
day, and her heart leaped.  "Come with me: we're going to the seaside."

   It was a small helicopter parked on the terrace....

   As he helped her into it his hand slipped up under that teenage-typical
tartan mini-skirt and felt satin panties, full across her bottom, not a
thong.  She gave a little squeak and turned her head to treat him to the
sweetest, happiest little-girl smile a man could hope for.  He felt the
firm muscles under the silk move as she heaved herself into her seat.

   Beside him she was excited by the trip and really delightfully little
girlish.  "You can do anything and everything, even fly one of these, Sir."

   "When we're alone you must call me Uncle John, or just John, my little
angel."

   When they eventually neared the coast she exclaimed "Oh"!  Look!  The
sea.  It's lovely, Uncle," and her hand apparently of its own volition
rested on his thigh.  She had been looking at those muscular legs with
their golden hairs all the trip and longing to caress them.  This was her
chance.  Her hand stayed there for the remaining few minutes of the flight.
"Oooh!  An island!"

   They circled the island and she could see a small jetty with a motor
boat tied up to it and steep granite steps leading up to a small cottage at
the top of the cliffs.  At the back of the cottage was a green pasture
sloping away.  A big, white "H" was painted on the grass a few yards from
the cottage and that is where the helicopter landed.  His hand was up her
skirt, on her silk panties, as he helped her from the chopper.  He held her
hand as they walked towards a sort of glass and aluminium sun-lounge
extension at the back of the cottage.  In front were four sun loungers, a
table with four chairs, and a sort of swing, with a couch suspended.

   "Wait here, Chrlotte, while I open up and get us a drink."

   She chose the swing, where she would be shaded from the sun by its
colourful cotton canopy.

   He emerged a couple of minutes later grasping a bottle and two glasses.
Gone the shirt and shorts...  he was wearing tiny black speedos and nothing
else.  Her heart beat so strongly she thought he must hear it, even above
the sound of the waves on the rocks below and the gulls overhead.  He was
so manly, so strong and handsome.  Not only was he powerful, a King in all
but name, but his body was powerful too, so masculine, the man of her
fantasies.

   He saw her stretched out, lounging on the cushions in the swing, and
smiled.  His cock stiffened again, and he placed the glasses and bottle on
the table, and adjusted the recalcitrant member by placing it sideways
across the front of his speedos.  Charlotte sat up so he could be beside
her but had her eyes fixed on the shape of that iron bar in his black
panties while he skilfully uncorked the bottle and poured two bottles, pink
and sweet.  He sat beside her, and they clinked glasses.

   "To a relaxing and stimulating break, my little sweetie...."

   Empty glasses fell to the lush grass as they embraced, and he felt her
young breasts through the layers of silk, firm and warm.  Her skirt had
ridden up and he caressed slender, silky-smooth calves.  Under the satin
her cock was as hard as his, and seemed big for her age just as he had been
promised.  Her tongue slipped into his mouth, forcing his from hers and she
crushed him against her new, feminine body.  There was a pulse in her
temples as well as her chest now.

   "You have the same problem as me, Charlotte." He grasped that cock for
moment, "Come!  I'll show you the bedroom."

   He held her by the hand into the bedroom, her little hand with its fine
fingers hot and damp with excitement, he hoped, not fear...

   "I say!  What a magnificent bed."

   He smiled.  She could sound very posh indeed sometimes, and he wondered
if it would sound so aristocratic when she howled her pain or pleasure in a
few minutes time.

   The bed was huge, I mean really huge nearly filling the room, and
covered with black a silk bed-sheet and pillows.

   He turned her round to face him, her head at his chest level, her
breasts chastely hidden behind the clever tied top, chaste unlike her belly
button that almost winked at him from her naked, so white, so sexy bare
midriff, and those long slender legs.  He had been teasing himself guessing
at the beauty of the hidden parts of her young body, and now he would wait
no longer.  He reached around her and pulled at the bow: the silk scarf
fell to the floor between them: she was wearing a lovely grey silk bra, so
fine he could see the shadows of her aureoles and nipples through the
fabric.

   He fondled a breast with his right hand.  Firm Warm.  A perfect handful.

   "You have lovely breasts, Charlotte."

   "I've always wanted tits, uncle, and now I have them absolutely perfect.
I don't want them any bigger." There was girlish pride in her voice.  "I
take a C-cup now...."

   "Quite right.  That's the ideal, firm, round, C-cup.  Now let me see
properly..."

   She reached behind and unclasped the bra, shucking her shoulders to
allow it to slip over her arms and join the top at her feet.  Immediately
he had a hand on one breast, feeling the little nipple stiffen against his
palm.  The white flesh was so lickable, kissable, the nipple a delight.  He
lowered his head and kissed and then took the newly erect nipple between
his lips, gently pulling at it, nibbling it.  She moaned in pleasure.

   Sensitive tits, he thought.  Good!  And he kissed and licked the other
one.

   "Perfect, my angel, so lovely."

   He was dimly aware of a tiny hand resting in the naked small of his
back, and then the other lightly touching his speedos, touching his penis.
No fear here!

   "And this!"

   Her mini skirt had a simple clasp and a short zip.  She heard the sound
of the zip and then the skirt joined her other clothes around her ankles.
she stepped out of the pool of silk, kicked it away, and aware of the
incongruity of her near-nakedness, and trainers on feet, slipped them off
too.

   He held her at arms length drinking in her teenage beauty.  Nothing male
about her now, except that bulge in the grey satin knickers.  No sun-tan,
just milky white flesh: full, pert breasts emphasising the slenderness of
her shoulders, tiny pink aureoles and erect nipples: tiny waist and still
little-girl hips to accompany those long slender, shapely legs, toenails a
delightful pink to match lips, fingernails and even her nipples.  What a
treasure!

   He lifted her and she draped her arms over his shoulder, her body
pressed to his as he carried her the two steps to the bed and placed her on
it, laying beside her.

   "Bed feels funny...."

   "It's a water bed, Charlotte.  Special made for lovers..."

   AS he kissed her he slipped a hand down the back of her knickers and
caressed the naked flesh of her bottom.  He turned her on her back and with
fingers under each side of the silk slowly drew them down.  He had been
right about her cock, big for a twelve-year-old, straight, white like her
body and capped by the sweetest knob, a brighter red than her lips or
nipples.  He stroked her ball-sack, white too, and tight around still-small
balls.

   He had too: so kissable!

   He leaned over and took the knob between his lips.

   Charlotte kicked the panties free of her ankles, and reached for his
speedos, free now to slip her hand inside them and feel the heat of his
penis, pulling it up vertical, and then releasing it from its captivity by
pulling the speedos down his thighs.  He let her cock fall from his mouth
and shuffled the speedos off.  She held it, gazing down at the monster.

   Could her little bottom really accommodate such a big penis?  She had
been looking forward to this, the day she surrendered to a husky male:
since she first found out the pleasures of masturbation she had dreamed of
being taken by a man and now it was about to happen.  At last!  But the
sudden reality, the feel of that hot cock in her little hand, her grip
unable to close on its girth, that excitement was overlaid by a new fear.

   He sensed her trepidation, saw it in those clear blue eyes.

   "We're going to fuck, Charlotte.  You know that don't you?"

   "I so wanted that, Uncle John, but now seeing how big you are I'm
frightened.  It will hurt!  Will it split me, so big?"

   "We'll take it slowly.  I want you to learn to like it, my little angel,
We all have to learn...."

   "You had to learn?" There was amazement in her voice.

   "I was your age when I learned to be fucked.  Long story.  I'll tell you
some day."

   He knew he would not.  Not information The Lord Protector should put in
the public domaine.  But his old Housemaster had taught him to enjoy being
buggered, then it had been the older boys in his House and later as a
boy-soldier at sixteen his sergeant had reaped the benefit of that
education, and the old bugger's loving and tender caresses were the
template for many a successful seduction.....

   The baby oil was ready on the bedside table, the only other furniture in
the room.

   He turned her over, parted her buttocks and placed a wet kiss on the
little pink secret rose.  She giggled as he licked it and then penetrated
with the tip of his tongue.

   "Nice."

   So, a pleasant couple of minutes rimming her as she wriggled beneath
him, enjoying the feel of his tongue where she until now did not know she
could feel pleasure.  enjoying too the roughness of his cheeks against the
tender flesh of her buttocks.

   He dribbled oil onto her anus, and slipped his middle finger in as far
as the first knuckle.

   No protests....

   He felt around and decided her prostate was not yet formed sufficiently
for him to feel, but he pressed several times where he knew it should be,
just behind the wall of her rectum.

   "Oooh!  That feels nice."

   So he lay beside her and as she turned her head to him kissed her while
finger fucking her still-tight anus.  The kiss and the caressing went on
for several minutes, till he decided she had loosened up, at leas
temporarily.

   "I want to fuck you, my angel.  Have you ever before?"

   "Jesus!  No!"

   "It'll hurt the first time.  It always does.  But in a week's time,
after a few fucks, you'll be begging me to do you...."

   "I know it will hurt, but I want it.  I want to learn to like it...  I
have wanted to for ages....."

   She felt his arms around her, pulling her up into a kneeling position.
She had seen this in videos, but also with the man laying on top and had
hoped the first time would be like that, with his weight bearing down on
her.  She told him....

   "Can we do it with me on my back and you on top, uncle?  I always wanted
my first fuck to be like that."

   "I'm heavy...."

   "That's what I want...."

   So, on her back, her breasts pert and upright, he bent her body so her
anus winked at him, pretty and pink, glistening oily in the summer sunlight
through the small window.  He stuck a pillow under her, and holding his
cock in his right hand placed the knob over her anus, with a light
pressure. He dribbled more oil onto cock-head, shaft, and her male pussy.
The sizes were disproportionate....  his knob wide and flaring, her anus so
small and tight-closed.,, but he pushed.  His shaft bent, stiff as it was.
He held it firmly and tried again: still it was refused admission and bent.

   "Push out, my angel.  Not pull in...."

   And as easy as that his knob just popped in.

   Her scream rang out.  He smiled.  They always yelled that moment.  He
had as a boy, too, frightening his seducer!  Sea-gulls on the roof started
with a flurry of wings and their own screeches.

   "No!  That's too....  Hurts....."

   Her anus had spasmed and was gripping his shaft just below the knob,
almost painfully.  He waited for the spasm to pass and as it eased, slid
his shaft a further few inches.  It was half in when she spasmed again. 
Again a pause, enjoying the muscular tightness of this pussy, and then as
it eased, the whole of his cock in her, his balls touching her slippery
flesh.  He paused again.

   Looking down at her he saw her wide-eyed, biting her lower lip, being
brave.

   "I know it hurts, angel.  I can remember my first time.  But that soon
passes."

   He pulled slowly back as far as his cock-head, and then pushed right in
again, slowly.  He grasped an ankle in each hand and held her legs high,
stretched wide apart as he started to fuck her with long, slow sweeps.

   She seemed to relax after a few minutes of this gentle motion, eyes
closed but no longer biting her lip or clenching her fists.

   He speeded up, fucking her with short, rapid thrusts, his body making
smacking noises as it crashed onto hers: her arse was making squelchy
noises....

   He guessed the pain had passed, but he did not expect to make her cum
this first time so there was no need to hold back.  He would take his
pleasure as and when his own body demanded it.  Her tits were very
inviting: he let go her ankles and grabbed one breast in each hand.  The
feel of that firm flesh, silky and warm, triggered him and he felt the
orgasm in his arse, then in his cock, and then almost painfully as the
first spurt of cum filled her virgin arse.  Four more, each at the tip of a
mighty thrust and he was done.

   She had been watching his face, contorted and ugly as he came, and
registered the passion.  She was glad it was over, though after the first
moments it had not been really painful.  Uncomfortable for a bit, but
towards the end it was ok, and perhaps a bit better than ok.  She decided
she could probably learn to like it, as she knew many boys did.  She was
pleased that her new master had enjoyed it, and that was almost enough!

   He pulled out, and was pleased to see she must have been shown how to
douche properly....clean.

   Her cock was stiff.  It had been soft in the minutes after he entered
her, but then it had gradually stiffened.  perhaps if he had been patient
she would have cum.  Never mind: next time.  And that cock, so pretty with
its white shaft and pink, circumcised head, was very inviting.  He did not
often suck cock, but this little transexual was special, so he knelt over
her and took the knob between his lips.

   Charlotte was amazed: she had expected to be fucked, but to have her
cock sucked by this macho male was beyond her wildest imaginings.  And
wholly wonderful.

   She held his head in her hands and relaxed, enjoying the feel of his
tongue on the shaft of her cock as it slipped in and out his lips.  He was
holding her balls in his hand, gently squeezing them in the same rhythm as
his bobbing head.  She could love this man....

   It did not take long.  He knew she was coming as her cock swelled even
more, her body tensed, and then his mouth was filled with cum.  So many
memories.....  He should do this more, he thought, as a second spurt
erupted.  Then her body relaxed, and the steely hardness of her cock was
replaced by a softer feel.

   ...........................................

   Laying side-by-side in the after-glow of good sex they chatted.

   "I think I could cum like that, Uncle, I mean with you fucking me.... 
It was good towards the end."

   "My angel!  Of course you will."

   "It was lovely when you sucked me.  I did not think you would do that."

   "Why not?"

   She hesitated.

   "You seem so male and macho, and I thought only gay men did that."

   "I like girls and women, but also boys and fit young men.  I think most
men are bisexual if they are allowed to be.  And transexuals too.  Do you
ever think about girls, about their bodies?"

   "Well, yes, uncle, sometimes.  Especially if they are the strong types.
I think I like strong men, like you, but also strong women too, I like to
be taken, to be dominated I guess.  I like Captain Holdsworth, and
sometimes I think...."

   She broke off.  Sometimes her masturbation fantasies included the woman
who was both her jailer and her protector.  That smart uniform, and the way
her breasts filled the crisp white shirt when she took the military jacket
off: she was strong in the shoulders and arms, but gave the impression of
slim femininity.  Altogether a sexy body and a commanding presence..... 
"Oooh!"
" Ooooh!  indeed!  Yes I could fancy Molly Holdsworth myself,
Charlotte." He had never even made a pass at his house-keeper, on the
principle of always keeping the servants at arms' length, but had sometimes
wondered what that fit body would look like naked...  And, of course, no
senior officer would bed a junior in his own command.  Except that he now
was King in all but name and could do what he wanted.  Let's get her over

here, and we can both have her.  Is that a good idea?"

   "Oh!  Uncle, can you?"

   He got up left the room, and came back with a phone to his ear.  "Molly,
John Higgs here.  I'd like you to join us at The Island....  yes, that's
right....  find Jules Folyon and get him to fly you over....  both of you
be ready to stay a couple of nights.....  good....  should be here in a
couple of hours or so....  and Charlotte says can you bring her sunscreen,
her douche, and a couple of pairs of knickers....  good.  See you both
soon."

   "There, that's sorted.  We're going to have an orgy, sweetie.  Better
take one of these each."

   "Ooooh!  Viagra?"

   "Better.  That only lasts a few hours.  They call this 'the weekend
pill'."

   They showered together, and of course soaping each other both got stiff
again, but decided to wait till Molly and Jules arrived, save it for the
orgy.  Sex had made them hungry, and he micro-waved a pizza which they ate
with the end of the champagne, and were laying on the swing in the shade,
she in her knickers proud to show off her new tits, he naked when the
helicopter landed and the couple in military uniform jumped out, ducking
under the whirling blades.

   ............................................



   "We've brought our beach things."

   "Great.  Why not go in and get out of your business clothes and join us
out here.  Oh.  and bring another bottle of fizz plus a couple more
glasses. It's in the ice-box."

   "Shame, Uncle John.  They're so sexy in their military uniforms."

   "Behave yourself, Charlotte.  This sexy little piece just loves to be
dominated so she's especially turned on by the military....  as you'll soon
find out I hope."

   '''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

   In the bedroom the young couple enjoyed again watching each other
undress.

   "Naked, Jules.  Not cossies.  He's naked, and she damn nearly so."

   "God!  You've a lovely body, Molly."

   "And that's a tremendous stiffy you've got, Jules."

   "I'll get the drinks.  You take Charlotte's sun-screen.  Pity if she
lost that milk-white complexion."

   "I thought you like your women fit and tanned...."

   "Variety is the spice of life, sweetie.  You go out and I'll follow."

   .................................

   Jules opened the bottle and poured the champagne.  They all clicked
glasses, and Molly and John lay down on the manicured grass.

   As Colonel and then General he had often wondered what his housekeeper
looked like naked, guessing her body would ne near perfect, fit but
probably muscled.  He had often fantasised sex with her, and was almost
certain she would welcome it.  Now all the considerations that had held him
back had evaporated: he was effectively Dictator-King, and could do what he
wanted.  Well, he wanted her, and wanted to watch her fuck as well!

   As for Molly, she had been in love with her employer for years, but
until today had been resigned to never feeling his body pressed to hers,
his manhood inside her welcoming body.  Her heart was beating so loud she
knew he must feel it as they embraced.

   "Shall I oil you with the sun-screen, Charlotte?"

   "Yes.  I'd like that Jules.  Just a sec."

   She stood up from the swing and deftly lowered her panties, kicking them
away with bare feet.  Jules took in her delicate feet and ankles, those
pretty toenails but mostly was hypnotised by her shaven cock and balls....
not as big as his own, but stiff like his.  He remembered cocks like that
when he was at boarding school, cocks slender and straight, white with
pretty pink helmets, one of them...  what was his name?  Arthur?  No,
Albert....  especially delicate, But even that pretty little fellow had not
such a cute, rounded arse or such long, slender shapely legs as this
beauty. And such tits....  tits to die for, firm, pert, teenage girlie
tits...

   She lay down feeling the grass cool under her back before she turned on
her belly.

   "Do my back first....  Rub it well in, I really don't want to tan.  I
don't tan.  I burn."

   He started at her neck, lifting her golden hair so he could rub the oil
into her shoulders and back, her body silky smooth and so firm under his
hands as he caressed her.  Now down to that jutting, rounded arse, so
feminine, so sexy.  He could feel the muscles below the flesh: one fit
girl, he thought.  Would be a wonderful fuck.  Would be?  Soon will be!  He
spread the buttocks and she wriggled her bottom invitingly as his fingers
anointed the inner cleft, her tight-closed pretty-pink anus, the hard place
between her arse and those still-small balls in their crinkly white sack.
So pretty, too, so kissable.  She let him fondle her thighs, calves and
ankles, even the soles of her feet, before turning over.

   He stared at those breasts, perky and upright even though she was laying
on her back.  Perfect little cones with tiny pink aureoles.  More oil and
he stroked and pressed them.  The skin was silky and the flesh firm but
yielding, the nipples erect and rubbery between finger and thumb.  She
moaned her pleasure as, naughty man, he tweaked them.  Saving the best till
last, he finished the job he had started on her ankles and legs, and then
it was the heady delights of her belly and shaven pussy.

   Shaven?  Probably professionally lasered he guessed as there was no hint
at all of stubble, or even of pores.  Her belly was white, not quite but
almost flat, with just the slightest so-feminine curve.  But her mons
seemed disproportionately large naked as it was of all hair.  It swelled
slightly rounded like a really young girl's breast, and drawing his eyes
down to white cock and those tight little-boy balls.  Jules remembered she
was still only twelve....  or was it thirteen?  Anyway, from his memory of
school-days her cock had not suffered any diminution in her so-successful
transformation into a teenage girl, still perhaps five four inches, and at
least half-hard.  He reckoned that fully erect it would reach a six, and as
he used the oily sunscreen to gently wank it his guess was proved right.

   Beside him, a couple of paces away his senior officer, and the junior
woman officer were enjoying a sixty-nine, his mouth making slurping noises
as he lapped at her cleft, hers making little squeaks and grunts muffled by
the cock sliding in and out her lips.

   Jules would have enjoyed sucking Charlotte's cock and having her mouth
on his, like the old days that suddenly came flooding back to him, but he
doubted if he would be able to control himself, and above all he wanted to
fuck her, to shove his cock into that petalled rose he had oiled with
sun-screen, to cum inside her and have her cum too.

   She wanted it too, and with that seductive smile and lust in her eyes
she opened her legs wide, bent them at the knees, and then bent her body so
her erect cock was flat against her belly and her secret rose plain to
view, glistening in the sunlight, pink like her nipples, tight closed and
so inviting,

   She felt the pressure of his knob against her anus and her cock twitched
with the pleasure of that touch and the promise of more as, holding his
cock in his right hand while supporting his weight on his left he forced
the knob in.  There was the usual moment of almost pain as the helmet
penetrated, and she gasped and then murmured "Yes!"

   His cock slid in but it was a tight fit, delightfully gripping, but with
three little pushes the full length was in and his hairy pubes rested on
her pubic bone.  He lay on top of her and felt her arms around his neck,
fingers finding his shoulder muscles and then her legs closed over his own
buttocks.

   He had known the special sensation of arse-fucking as a schoolboy, when
young being fucked, and when older himself fucking the younger boys, but
since then had never buggered a male, nor had he been lucky enough to find
a woman willing to give him her bottom hole.  Now he knew what he had been
missing as he fucked the pretty young transexual, always egged on by her
shouts of "Harder.  Faster," but held back by the pain of her manicured
finger nails digging into his back.  But all too soon that gripping
male-pussy and the feel of those firm tits pressing was too much and
despite all his best efforts he came.

   If Charlotte was disappointed she did not show it, kissing him
passionately as his cock softened and then was expelled by her anus.

   Next to them Molly shouted she was cumming, provoking answering cries
from a circling seagull.

   "Now fuck me, John."

   "I will, Molly, but later.  First I want to see you and Charlotte
fucking.  I've been looking forward to that too and it looks like Jules has
left her hanging...  Go on, Molly.  Look at that nice cock.  Go and sit on
it!"

   "Please, John..."

   "Promise, Molly.  Now, you've looked after that little beauty and
watched her transformation.  Now treat yourself to a reward.  Go and fuck
her.  Jules and I will watch and I promise you lots more cock."

   Molly had enjoyed girls and women, had her lesbian moments.  What
attractive young woman spending much of her adult life in and around army
caps had not.  More often willingly seduced than herself the seducer, she
had enjoyed the fit, trim bodies, firm breasts of those female officers
almost as much as the attention of their male colleagues.  And John was
right.  Charlotte combined all those feminine charms with a cock clearly
raring to go: so much better than a strap-on dildo!

   Jules and John watched as Molly got astride Charlotte, saw the
transexual teen open her eyes, registering first surprise then pleasure as
she smiled, and extended her arms to welcome her guardian and companion of
several months.  Her arms closed around Molly as that juicy pussy sank down
and Molly's cunt accepted the virgin cock.

   "You're the first......  Molly...."

   Charlotte found it strange and exciting to call Captain Holdsworth
Molly, and repeated the name.

   "Molly......"

   "And you're my first tranny, sweetie, and by far the prettiest girl...."

   These endearments over, she raised herself so the cock nearly exited her
cunt, and sank down again.  The next time Charlotte's hips rose to meet her
and they were fucking.  Jules squatted beside and was fondling whichever of
four delightful breasts the couples' contortions presented to him, while
John sat behind them eyes glued to Molly's cunt lips stretched by the
girl's cock, pulled inwards each time she pressed down.  The cock glistened
in the sunlight testimony to Molly's excitement as her juices started to
gush.

   But it was Charlotte who came first entranced by the new feeling of cock
in cunt and prepared by the near orgasm Jules cock had given her.  her
painted nails dug into Molly's back as she came, silent but panting, her
lips seeking out Molly's.  And as they kissed, Charlotte's tongue invading
Molly's mouth, Molly came as well.

   A successful first for both of them!

   Charlotte's limp cock was expelled from its nest with a fart that made
the girl giggle.

   Molly wanted more, and above all wanted to feel that teenage cock
stiffen in her mouth, so she shuffled down Charlotte's body and took it
between her lips, the familiar taste of her juices and the salty flavour of
cum.

   Now John knelt behind her and spread her buttocks, strong hands feeling
the silky skin and firm muscles beneath, a truly feminine arse, broader
than Charlotte's, rounder and fuller, but just as firm.  Her anus winked at
him, inviting, but he decided to leave that for another occasion.  Her hot
cunt, leaking that heady mixture of love-juice and cum, was just too
tempting.  He moved up close and holding her hips allowed his knob to find
the exact place before, no hands, shoving and penetrating the full length
in one powerful thrust.

   Molly gasped.  This cock filled her, must be twice the girth of
Charlotte's.  As his arms enveloped her, palms on her breasts fondling and
squeezing she turned her head to look.

   John Higgs!  After all these years her general (he had been a major when
she had become his housekeeper all those years before), after all those
years of wanting and knowing it was impossible it was happening.  His cock
was in her and she could see the lust in his eyes.  Her heart missed a
beat, was throbbing so fast and loud that surely he must hear it as his
thighs smashed into her buttocks and his cock struck the end of her vagina
with every powerful, and so military thrust.

   "Oh God!  That's good!  Fuck me hard John.  Yes, like that.  God!  I'm
cumming.......  Yeeeeeeeessssss."

   Seagulls protesting overhead, her body was racked by spasms and it was
all General Higgs could do to keep from cumming himself, but the old trick
f counting in sevens worked, and the moment passed.

   A moment observed by Jules, who had been watching his senior officer's
strong buttock opening and clenching with each thrust.  His anus winked at
him with each withdrawal of the cock and Jules wondered if he dared. 
Jesus! That was so inviting.  Jules had gone both ways since he was a boy,
and nowadays favoured the truly masculine partners rather than the more
feminine boys of his youth....  though as he often commented 'he would not
kick a pretty boy out of his bed'.

   He spat in his hand and anointed his cock, shuffled on his knees behind
the couple fucking, and pressed his cock onto The Lord Protector's anus,
feeling it gripped every couple of seconds by that clenching arse.  Now it
was John Higgs who turned his head to smile at the young man, who took that
as an invitation to fuck his boss real hard, and the slurping sound of
John's cock in and out Molly's cunt was drowned out by the slapping of
Jules' thighs against John's bum.

   John could feel that cock pummelling his prostate, reminding the
near-forgotten pleasure.  It had been so long since he had been buggered.
From the age of twelve up to sixteen he had always been the happy "Bottom",
from then on in seniority in school would have led to his losing face so he
was always "Top" in the boyish sexual experiments.  The same had happened
in the army, guys attracted to his blue eyes, blonde hair, and super-fit
athletic body.  As a junior officer he had enjoyed being buggered, but as
he rose through the ranks increasingly he took the active role in any
liaisons, for the same reason: undignified for a major or colonel to be
fucked in the arse!.

   That could change now.....  and certainly would he promised himself.  He
could do as he liked, and that would include fucking women, young girls,
fit young men and Of course his lovely teenage transexual, but he would
also have this virile young officer fuck him.  It was good, and he would
seek out others who could hardly refuse him as their careers would depend
on it.  Such is power, he thought, making all those desperate risks worth
while.  He was not sure what was provoking the orgasm he felt mounting,
whether Molly's cunt and those splendid tits, or the thumping Jules' cock
was giving him, Whatever, it was uncontrollable and Molly benefited from
the gushers of hot cum pumped into her, and immediately making her cum too.
Jules was not far behind....

   Higgs laughed, and was joined in that my a happy Molly, and within a
second by the more circumspect Jules.

   "Gotta do that again!  But first, whose for a swim?  And then some more
fizz and my huge water-bed?"

   ......................................

   Chapter 6 The End of the Affair.

   So all combinations of that foursome flourished in the next few months,
although towards the end The Lord Protector was beginning to find Charlotte
and his equerry a bit "samey".  For him the "seven year itch" was more like
seven months!  So it was welcome when after the weekly meeting of the
Intelligence sub-committee of his cabinet Sir James Henderson asked for a
quiet word.

   "We've caught Percival, John.  And his daughter.  His wife was killed in
the shoot-out."

   "Pity he wasn't.  Interrogate him....  and I mean fully, you
understand...and when he's given you everything best for him just to
disappear.  No martyrs, just a missing person."

   "Indeed!  And I agree we will just disappear him.  But it has been
useful to debrief him, and under heavy interrogation he has given us the
location of their funds and the leading members.  There'll be quite a haul
of cash and also opposition leaders eventually.  More names and bank
accounts to come, probably."

   "Interrogating his daughter?  Your guys would enjoy that....."

   "It's clear she's a bit of an air-head, and in any case at just thirteen
she wasn't privy to their plots.  A looker though, and I wondered...."

   He took a couple of large colour photos from the folder he was holding.

   "A beauty....  like her mother.  Late mother.  Good figure and nice
little tits for a thirteen year old.  That bikini doesn't hide anything. 
Yes.  If you've done with her have Harbottle give her a contraceptive
implant and send her to me.  I have been thinking of moving Charlotte on,
and these photos have convinced me."

   "The same process as her mother I suggest.  A few months whoring as
lady's maid to our courtesan, Clarisse, and then to the Manor with a new
identity and history.  We have a couple of transexuals down there already,
but this little beauty trumps them both, so tender and young, but so
willing to please.  Oh, by the way the daughter, Melissa, is a virgin:
there is a hymen in place."

   "Very self-denying of you, James, and I really appreciate it.  Have
Harbottle remove the hymen....  I prefer to seduce than to rape as you
know. Though rape can be amusing too."

   "True, John."

   I expect you'll keep Charlotte for yourself and your staff for a few
weeks before moving her to Clarisse?

   "Indeed, John."





   ........................................