THE CONTACT LENS

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Oscar would often sit at the bedroom window with binoculars scanning the playground across the street for young girls.

It was his vice.

It was his passion.

It was his sin.

The playground contained a wide array of spring mounted rocking cartoon characters, short slides, board seated swings, monkey bars, teeter totters, and merry-go-rounds. There was not much of interest for the older kids, so most of the clientele was of preteen classification, and to his great delight, generally of the female variety.

Once he spied a precious little specimen he would switch to the high powered telescope he had mounted close at hand. Then he would amuse himself with self-gratification as he watched them through the lens of his Bausch and Lomb Deluxe, frolicing, executing feats of quasi-Olympian difficulty, frequently exposing a rosy butt bud beneath the material of shorts leg or bathing suit, or a mouth-watering glimpse of panties, if skirted.� Watching while his fevered mind conjured up images of the perverse acts he would perform on them.

Between the expertly ground optics, a special world existed where he could execute a variety of sexual acts on them, picturing their expressions of terror and hearing their screams.

In his basement he had a secret chamber, awaiting such an event should it transpire for real.

On this particular day the pickings had been meager and he was about to pack it in for his magazines and DVDs; a poor substitute for actual live flesh, but more graphic than anything he would view from his window. Just before abandoning his position, a wayward little nymph strayed into his sights.

She was alone. He did not recognize her. Probably new to the neighborhood, he guessed. Skinny, small, with long dark hair hanging straight and limp down her back, he brought her into focus for better assessment.

He estimated her age to be seven. She wore a dark blue dress that had seen better days with a frayed hem and a button missing about the belly. On her feet she wore pink flip flops.� There were remnants of blue nail polish on her toes. Bangs, needing trimming which he ventured to guess would not come anytime soon, hid her eyebrows. She had the look of an orphan of maintenance; a waif of attention; the type of child that would not immediately be missed, and only indifferently sought.

She entered the playground tentatively, as if she was not sure she should be there. It was evening. Most children were home at the supper table or doing homework. This wee sprite, however, seemed listless, looking for something to occupy her time.

�I could give you amusement, twat,� Oscar mumbled under his breath.

She sat on a swing just dangling her feet, looking at the ground, deep in thought, drawing imaginary pictures with her toe. Eventually she pushed off and began to glide back and forth. As she built up momentum her dress blew up on her lap on the forward journeys and down again on the return trek.

It was a tantalizing sight for Oscar. He took his limp cock in hand and stroked it to life. For a short girl she had long legs, accentuated by her lean figure.�� The angle of the swing set to his window prevented him from telling what her panties looked like.

Slowing, she dismounted with a graceful little jump. He watched her for nearly an hour, mesmerized by her innocent sexuality, dying for an opportunity to exploit it.

Evening slowly gave way to the shadows of night. It became more difficult to see her, but when she climbed upon the monkey bars and swung from her knees, it left no doubt she was not wearing any underwear.

Oscar�s heart skipped a beat, then began racing like a boat motor out of water. �I�ve got to get a closer look at this,� he thought, and did something he had never done before.

Jumping to his feet he threw on sweat pants and a shirt and hustled down the stairs, out the front door, and across the street. By the time he got there she had moved to the merry-go-round.� He hid in the bushes off to one side of the park entrance and watched, dying to get another peak at her tiny bare butt.

She made a move to alight, but lost her balance landing in the gravel on her hands and knees. Giving a little shriek, she began to cry. Moving to a sitting position she surveyed the damage.

Oscar could see the bright red scrapes from his vantage point, even in the waning light. Acting on impulse he rose from his concealment and pretended to be on an evening stroll in the park. Coming upon her in this way he feigned surprise at finding her thus.

�Oh, my! What happened, little lady?� he asked in his most friendly and concerned voice.

�I fell and hurt my knees,� she sobbed.

She sat on her butt with her knees bent and her feet flat on the ground. Had it been two hours earlier he would have had a marvelous view up her skirt, but with the encroaching night all was in shadow.

�Come on,� he said, extending his hand, �I live just across the street. We�ll get you cleaned up, bandaged and good as new.� The tone of his voice rang of assurance, reliability, and kindness. Without a second thought she took his hand, got to her feet, and went with him to his house.

On the way he explained he was a photographer by trade and had a studio in his basement where he kept most of his supplies.

They entered the house, went downstairs, and into a room with cameras, a small bed, a padded table, and various other items of which she had no idea of their use.

She never noticed him lock the door.

He lifted her onto the table top, explaining this was where he placed items to be photographed, where he could arrange them in the best angle and light.

He brought a floor lamp near and went to a cupboard for bandages and disinfectant.� Next he lifted one of her feet to the table top telling her he needed to get a better look.

He got a better look indeed. She was so unconscious of her exposure in the glare of the flood light it didn�t occur to her that her tender young pussy was being laid bare to his inspection.

Not a hair graced that sweet mound. The flesh of her pubis deepened into a rosy pink as it disappeared into her twat, taunting him. He could feel a stirring in his pants and fought to keep it down, not wanting to alarm her� yet.

The wounds were dressed tenderly and with much care. When finished he asked, �How�s that?�

�Good,� she replied, sliding off the table. �Thank you�

His next statement caused her to look up at him in bewilderment. �Now, take off your dress.� It was a simple command with only a slight amount of intensity.

Her eyes divulged an uncertain questioning as if she hoped she had misheard him. �Wh� what?� she asked meekly.

�Take your dress off. Quickly.� This was more pronounced and demanding.

�Why?� There was a tremor of fear and confusion in her voice. Now she began to question her decision to go blindly with this man she didn�t even know.

His answer was calm and matter of fact. �Because I need you naked for all the things I plan to do to you.�

�I gotta go,� she said and rushed to the door. A cold chill of panic seized her as she grabbed the handle and found the door locked. She turned to discover him close behind her. Terror filled her eyes.

�I have the key,� he stated. �Now, for the last time take off your dress.�

�No!� she hollered defiantly.

She attempted to slip past him to put distance between them, but he grabbed her arm and dragged her to the bed. �Little girls who don�t obey their elders get punished,� he told her.

As she struggled, he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her onto his lap. One arm was immobilized by his body, flailing but unable to help her efforts to escape. The other arm he pinned behind her and held her in place by pressure on her back.� She squirmed and kicked, but his size and superior strength kept her solidly anchored to his legs.

By now she was screaming for help.

�Go ahead and yell,� he inserted between the cries. �There is double insulation in these walls, and acoustic tiles all around. No one will hear you.�

He lifted her dress with his free hand and exposed a perfect young ass so white as to look like alabaster. He massaged and fondled it.

Her refusal to undress was a ruse to accommodate what he had planned on doing anyway. He raised his hand, letting it hover above her, savoring the moment. Then, it came down with a deafening smack. She screamed and began to cry.

He drew in a deep breath. He could almost smell her fear. The intensity of her terror was like a fine wine; so invigorating, so captivating, making him want more.

Again he slapped the tender white flesh, watching it compress under the pressure of his hand.� It felt so good he repeated it over and over, losing track of how many blows he delivered, urged on by the incessant screams, crying, and begging; fifty, sixty, who knows how long he spanked her? When he finally stopped, her butt was a deep red, radiating heat like a sunburn.

Oscar released her arm and she leaped up and ran to the farthest corner of the room, holding her ass, trying to subdue the pain. She sobbed uncontrollably, hoping the worst was over, but knowing in her heart it was yet to come. She had no idea what that could be, and that lack of knowledge was what scared her the most. Her eyes, overflowing with tears, locked on him. Her body, racked with sobs, trembled with fear.

As she watched him, ready to evade him should he show the slightest signs of pursuing her further, he reached into his sweat pants and pulled out his fully rigid erection.

The deliciousness of her terror was almost palatable to him. �She must have felt it poking into her ribs when I was spanking her,� he thought.

She did not move a muscle as he sat stroking it, delighting in the lovely pain he had inflicted on her butt.�� He closed his eyes, reliving the event, masturbating. �Umm, I�d better stop,� he said, pulling the waistband up over it. �I have other plans for this,� he patted it, �with you�.

She whimpered.

�I gave you an order earlier,� he said, calmly. �Take off your dress.�

�NO!!� she screamed vehemently. �You can�t make me! You�re a bad man!�

�You are quite right about the last part, I am a bad man, but you're oh, so wrong about the first two,� he stated. Getting up off the bed he went to the door, unlocked it, and exited. She heard the lock click behind him.

Left alone she sank to a squat, weeping, and rubbing her behind. The pathos was timeless. She could as easily have been an urchin from a Dickens tale, or an orphan of the streets of ancient Rome, as a victim of the twenty-first century.

Oscar was gone about ten minutes. When he returned he was carrying three sticks, greenish in color, about two feet in length and a roll of duct tape.

He had to chase her around the room a bit before finally seizing her around the waist. She fought and kicked, but it was a simple matter for him to muscle her onto the padded table, face down, where he fastened her wrists to the legs on one end, her ankles on the other, with strips of tape. He also wrapped a length over her waist.

Next he pulled up her dress again, revealing the still red cheeks.

�Bad girls, who don�t obey get punished.�

He picked up the three sticks, alternately flexing them and slashing the air. They made a low whistle as they sliced through the atmosphere. He picked one he seemed to like better than the others.

�Maybe the next time I tell you do something, you will do it,� he said waving the switch in front of her to see.� A moment later she felt the first lashing her ass with the newly cut switch.

She screamed with even more intensity than before, the pain searing her flesh like a hot iron. Immediately a huge red welt materialized.

Her eyes grew wide, never having felt such agony before. She begged him to stop, promising to do whatever he wanted, but to Oscar, this occupation was intoxicating. He lashed her again. The sounds of her shrieks were music to his ears. Savoring his pleasure he took measured strokes,� At the twentieth lash he stopped, admiring the crisscross pattern of deep red welts and the black and blue discoloration of the lobes in general.

During her struggles to break free, her hair had fallen over her face. He gently moved it back in place behind her ears. She lay on the table almost comatose; her eyes unfocused, no more tears left to cry, but her body still hitched occasionally with pent up emotion.

Neither spoke.

He removed the duct tape and backed away, waiting to see how she would react.� After a few moments she slid gingerly off the table, on unsteady legs.

"Now do it my way, little lady. Take off the fucking dress," he said in a low soft voice.

With head hung low she unfastened the few buttons on her dress and let it slip to the floor. Now, he knew she was his to do with as he pleased. He had broken her spirit. She had surrendered.

For the first time he beheld her entirely naked; such a tiny little thing, skinny legs, knees bandaged against the trials of childhood, completely hairless pussy about to endure those of an adult. She had a flat tummy, and flatter chest, standing no more than elbow height to him. She was gorgeous; the flush of spent tears accentuating the beauty of her face. All kinds of perverse urges swept over him in an instant, but he knew what he wanted.

He led her to the bed where he positioned her at the end, on her stomach with a couple of pillows beneath her hips, feet on the floor. Another pillow lay under her head. She gripped both ends by her bony young hands.

He spread her legs and got between them. He laid his penis between the discolored butt cheeks like a hot dog in a bun and slid it back and forth. She whimpered, knowing that whatever he had planned was not going to be pleasant.

Taking a bottle of lubricant he greased his penis liberally. Then he greased the area around her anus, pink and puckered, and never before used as it was about to be used. With his finger tip he pushed his way inside. She stiffened, but did not protest.

He placed the tip of his cock against her asshole and pushed, slowly, but with firm pressure. She buried her face in the pillow. Her fingers squeezed it and tore at the ticking.� With constant force her sphincter began to part allowing a small portion of his member entrance.

Muffled in the pillow he could hear her repeatedly crying, �Ow! Ow! Ow!�

After a minute or two he managed to bury the head inside her.� She flailed her arms, beating the bed with her fists, but did not fight him.

When he was half way in, he straddled her with his legs, closing hers. He didn�t go any deeper, but used the depth he had gained to great advantage, pumping, slowly at first, and then gaining speed. Her ass was magical. It felt like a velvet glove, soft and smooth, tight and snug. He took his time, enjoying the feeling. She looked even smaller beneath his bulk.

Now he pushed in deeper until his balls rested on her bruised buttocks. He could tell she was in great discomfort from her wails and thrashing. This added to the illusion, making his orgasm the most powerful he could remember. Shooting his cum deep inside her defiled butt, continuing to pump for minutes after, he finally relinquished his attack.

When he pulled out she groaned. Her ass, still alive in red and purple, swollen and striped, was sloppy with cum. Viscous sperm filled the crack and ran down into her gash.

After a lengthy session on the monkey bars the little girl dismounted for good, smoothed her dress, and skipped out of the playground, down the street.

When Oscar moved the telescope to one side he found he had ejaculated almost to his chin. Puddles of cum rolled down his stomach, pooling in his pubic hair and beginning to seep between his balls and his legs. Grabbing a handful of Kleenex he smiled and thought, �Yeah, you�ve been butt fucked good, little lady.�

THE END