Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 {Author's Warning: All right, this one's more psichological horror, with
fantasy, and science fiction elements.  Nepiophilia through adult sexual
assault, molestation, mind control, exploitation and pornography of every
kind because that's the character.  She triggers people for fun and gets
off on it.  I don't really like having this stuff in my head to begin with,
so I have to get it all out.  Also, for anyone following along, to tell you
where she's cumming from.}

   Daniel Noel: Producer {FM/M Pov Cast Solo Fant.  Slut Unif Porn CFNM
FdoM;}

   "So Lucy, what brings you to Young & Naughty?".Com, mostly
Amateur/Reality.  College age.  All models are eighteen and up.

   "Well," she grins, and looks up, "I love porn, and your site is great."
Shrug, "You're the first one that called back."

   "And you're Eighteen."

   "Barely legal," She nods, and pulls an ID out of her purse.  Or back
out, holds it upside-down to cover everything except the date, and picture,
then flips it over for the camera.  "I always wanted to do this." She
blushes, shyly.  Long wavey brown bangs pulled out of her matching eyes,
and tucked behind an ear.  Virginia driver's License, out of state.

   Tanned, and freckled, though.  She wrinkles her nose and chin, tucking
it back in the purse, and setting it aside.  Phone on the desk, propped up
on my name-stand, pointed at her.  She'd asked for a monitor, but we
compromised on that, instead of having one brought in.  "This is my first
time."

   "You're not a virgin."

   "Noh!" laugh, "I had sex, with my boy-friend," roll my eyes to cover the
lie, "Well, he's my ex now, I got too old." Well, she.

   "How old is he?"

   "In his twenties," or early thirties, "I always liked older guys, but
he's the only one I slept with." Or let her molest me.

   "So you're not very experienced?"

   "Well, 5 years?" Not counting my victims before that.  "But he was
kinky."

   "How kinky?"

   "Well, you know, rough sex, bondage, humiliation."

   "Is that what you're into?"

   "Oh yes," grin to myself, "And PVC." I don't usually get turned on by
lying, but it's all the role-reversal, I'd guess.

   "Fetishwear?"

   "Yeah," half-flip my hair over my shoulder, so I can lean back.  On the
couch, white vynil, my legs up, wide.  So my darted denim skirt flipped up
with them, over the wide shiny red crotch of my underwear.  Not like
panties, no camel-toe, but flattened by the tight plastic.

   "You want to get started?"

   Below the view of my phone, so I can't see it on screen, but I know what
it looks like.  Practiced, affected, not really my type of underwear, but
the plastic doesn't stretch, and feels clammy on my flattened lips.  I
thought it might stand out, from the regular underwear of your typical
casting couch actress.  I took drama, but I'm a bit of a natural.  Always
was, it pays when you live double-lives.

   "Sure," I giggle at him behind the camera, "Whenever you're ready.  You
mind if I keep talking?  It helps me turn myself on."

   "We have a porn-star waiting, when you're ready for him to come in."

   "That's okay," she sighs, rubbing her legs, "I like you, and I already
feel a little rapport.  Don't you?"

   "Sure," visible shrug from the camera moving, "That's fine."

   "Are you getting hard yet?" A pornographer, he'd seen so much more than
flashing up my skirt, but he's really more my type.

   Hiding behind the camera, shy, and detatched, he just shoots the vids
and calls in a stunt-cocks.  Maybe later, but he's kind of cute, and has
that self-conscious innocence, which is almost obscene, for a pornographer.
So, a voyeur, not used to girls going for him, instead of the big hunk, no
doubt with a steel pipe in his pants, and strong arms I really didn't want
holding me, yet.  So not my type.

   But getting in the mood...  "Can I see it?" He rolled around the side of
the desk, legs spread, but his hand between them.  Rubbing himself, "How
about a blowjob," or hand-job, "To get me in the mood?" My skirt flopped
down, and I grabbed my phone.  He stayed behind the view-screen, but I shot
low.  Close, though, his face/camcorder in the background to make it look
bigger, once we got it out.  We had to work together, but he didn't
struggle to get his belt undone, 1 handed.  I recognised his voice, all his
videos are PoV.

   "Hah!" I like dicks.  All sizes, circumcized or not, any age.  I've
experimented enough with girls to know I'm straight, but as long as there's
cock in it, I can get turned on.

   "I Always wanted to Direct."

   "Maybe after this," He shifted a little in his pants, so I pulled on the
side, and he pushed up, to help me pull them down.

   "I have other movies I can show you, but you can't publish, because I
was too young."

   "With your," Pause to carefully chose a word, "Your Molestor?"

   "He didn't hurt me.  I mean, he did it rough, but I like that." Lick my
lips, "So, you wanna get started?"

   "Yeah," He tasted clean enough, "Uh!" put his hand on my head.  I
slipped him through my lips, and popped him out.  Switching my phone to my
other hand, I checked the angle, and pulled him out, to show it off. 
Licked the underside, and wet the tip with a deep kiss again.  Not sucking
it, but getting it wet, to slip in my fingers.  Instead of the skin, I
spat, and sucked him in deep.  To my throat, my nose brushed in his pubes
before I gagged, and "COCK!" coughed him out.  Spat that deep slimy spit
out in my hand, and rubbed it all around.

   A little guy, still a lot bigger than a little boy, big enough to fuck,
but that means getting out of this underwear, and putting on a rubber. 
Sure, we could edit it out with a jump-cut, but I'd rather beat him off. 
Hard, and harder, not wracking his balls with my wrist, but threatening to.
Instead, I let go, before he got off, but getting close, I could tell.

   To undo my shirt, like the uniform shirt, but without the patches.  From
the Amateur video I sent in, attached to the Email, hinting that I'd love
to cum in, work with them, now that I'm eighteen, ;) Maybe blackmale him
later, when the ID comes back fake, and I tell him I'm really seventeen. 
So they don't publish this, with my face.  I want to do this anonymously,
PoV, behind the camera.  But I have ideas for reality porn unlike anything
they've seen, and I'll bet he's who I have to fuck to do it.

   I wound-up giving the Man a try.  First one, but I was here for a
Victim, and he said "Molest." The way a Victim said it, I didn't have to
ask, or tell him, that I knew.  I could guess, takes one to know one, and
we tend to operate a certain way.  So, I did it to him, enough to feel
familiar without thinking "I was molested." It was for a scene, a casting
call, but he got the job.  And I got to direct, as soon as I got the camera
away from him.

   "Here,"

   Helping him up, he was taller than me when we shook hands because I
didn't wear the heels.  But sitting, or lying down I could stand over him,
in nothing but shiny pleather.  Better not fetishize that, it's too high
maintenance, and I'm homeless.  Well, "Moving" when asked if it was laundry
day, but you get the idea.  I don't have to pay rent, didn't even own a
car. Don't need one, I guess you could say I'm a cheap date.  On the first
date, I take it out in blood, cum, and tears, but they never cry rape. 
It's not a crime if it's never reported, and they can't even think of
themselves as victims.

   Naked on the couch, I didn't give him the camera back.  Panned over him,
kind-of chubby, but not flabby.  Some soft roundess, on a boy's body.  A
large one, but I was a little-girl once.  And all this fantasy had me
sticking to the fluid-tight underwear.  Even my sweating flattened chest.
Twist the screen, and curl my arm to pan down my body.  My hard nipples,
rock my hips back and pull my chest up, to flatten my abs.  Tight, with a
crease down the middle broken by my belly button I can feel with my
fingers, smoothing it out.

   And my mons, with my thighs swiveled out, knees on the side of the
couch, running my hand up his hairy leg, to his balls.  He put the other
one up, on the back, rubbing loudly on the white pleather.  I swear, PVC,
but the apholstry stuff with the woven back layer.  My underwear was the
same on both sides, under his hand, and on my damp hip.  Clammy stuff,
actually a nasty feeling, which I was starting to like enough to
understand. Not like latex enough, doesn't stretch, and gets slippier on
the inside.

   Stretched over the front of my crotch, still clinging, like a pouch,
probably running with drool by now, but this prick wasn't going to beat
itself off.  I banged his balls, a couple of times.  Accidentally of
course, both of them, one of them, then the other really to match them up.
Then I used that to get him up, on his knees to bend over the back.  Up
against the wall, arms folded together, face pressed sideways to the paint.
Eyes closed, moaning as I held his prick.

   I wanted to spank him, rub in his crack, and finger-fuck him, but I had
to hold the camera.  So instead, I kissed his back.  Right above the crack,
my chin brushed the top of his cheeks, but I planted a smack right on the
bones where they curved back up, under them.  "Huhuh!" He shuddered, and
hunched, "Uh!" grunted when I lapped the top of the crack, but fuck it.  He
smelled clean, evidentally shaved, and was turned on by it.

   And it's not like I haven't licked out an ass before.  Idly wondered how
old he was, at least pushing 30, but sniveling, and disgusting, actually. I
just couldn't hold the camera, and jerk him off to touch myself.  Standing
over him, but the next time I could, I'd have this to remember.  I cleared
my throat, and dug deep, past the corners of my grin to my cheeks, and let
it roll down to the tip of my tongue.

   He moved my hand, so I reached down, and wished it wasn't a one-piece
cat-suit, but managed to squish the back of my thumb in enough to seperate
my lips, and sure enough, it was filled with fluid.  Dry on the outside, I
wished I grabbed my phone to position up between my legs, and had no way to
shoot it from up here, blind.

   Just the bottom of my chin, his thighs, and bouncing balls, I saw later.
Like his pinky flashing up into view, every once in a while, but I was down
to ass-hole, felt stubble grate on my tongue.  My guess is he was molested
by a man, then fucked by him.  It wasn't an orgasm, but that was the
mind-fuck, when it's sometimes even better.  Getting off on how many ways
this is fucked up.

   He was grunting excitedly, almost 'Yeah, yeah, yeah!' but not
enounciated enough, so it was almost morelike 'here,' or hear.  I don't
know, I felt blindly for his endcap before I felt his asshole twitch wetly
on the tip of my tongue, and let it kiss at it, while he spat wetly in my
palm.  Cupped, to catch most of it, I missed it completely with the camera,
but hear him moaning, and hunching against my face while I rubbed it in to
his ultra-sensative post orgasmic crown.

   Like a clit, mine's tiny, buried, and painfully sensitive.  Which is
fine, I get off on sexual pain, but making him feel it, finally pull his
cock out in his fist because I wouldn't let him go soft, but I caught most
of it on my fingers, and wiped it into his crack.  Tasted it, I think, but
cleared my throat again, and held him open with my thumb to spit it in
there.  "Filthy, fucking;" piglet.  I rubbed it in with my pinky.  My
polished one, I have nails too, some of them long, some of them sharp, at
least one thumb, thick enough to pry off splinters with, but I had to
switch hands.

   And sit back, on the carpet, he followed me down on his knees, and
hands. So I could show it, he slapped his ass, and held it open.  Shaved,
and licked clean, didn't even see any cum in there, and the stubble is
invisibly short.  Full pubes up front, neatly trimmed, balls and
everything, and shaved ass.  Very anal, not much of a talker, I like that.
And I can see what I'm doing, makes for better viewing, later.

   Had to switch hands again, for my middle finger, then thumb.  Straight
down, and back, "Ngh, yeah!" Mash it back all the way to the bone.  Pan
down to his limp hanging junk, and rub my thumb up under his balls.  Pinch
it gently, then hard, milking down until his circumcized pisser bulged out
the side, and the skin bunched around the head.  And the clear little
pearl, clinging to the mouth like a tiny bulging eye.  A lot like precum,
really only a little oily with an unique flavor.

   Prostate fluid, but I have a fluid fetish, I believe I made that clear.
I stood up, tasted it, and left it on the tip of my tongue to kiss him,
before telling him to, "You can send in the stunt-cock, now." They didn't
all call out "Stunt-cock!" (~Stone and Parker: "Orgasmo")

   I handed him the camera, and started getting out of this vynil.  It was
decidely uncomfortable by now, and I was about ready for a good
old-fashioned fucking.  He wasn't lying about the porn star, cock, and all,
shaved from the chest down, nice hairy nipples, and pretty much right to
the fucking.  Short pause to put the rubber on, then every-which way, I got
right off, but he was still hard, and just kept right-on fucking.  Changed
rubbers, while I greased up my ass, and I got off again with my fingers,
too.  I had to jerk him off, two handed, but interlaced my fingers to run
my thumbs up, and down the underside.  I got up, and aimed down to shoot it
all over my neck, and chest.  By the time he was done, it felt like a
gangbang.  He was like a one-man gangbang, or at least a threesome!

   I caught my breath, and calmly asked them where the showers are.  I know
they have one, or two, on either end of the hall, and a lot more studios.
All of them locked, I checked before, didn't hear any obvious noises coming
out of them.  I just washed off, completely satisfied, and out once my
hands were clean, tried out the various hoses provided with a 3 way valve
thingy.  Turns out the regular old hose, with a flattened round nozzle
thing worked best, squatting down for almost a douche/enema, only not too
deep, I don't want to flush anything higher.  Shat, until shit came out,
and got back in the shower.  Got out clean, I'd have scrubbed myself out if
they'd had a brush for that.

   He might be the least likely in the building to have an STD, and his
risk just went up from having my tongue in his ass.  But there was another
bathroom, with a shower.  And Bath-tub, enough counter, and floor to fuck,
and film on.  Set up a tripod right-there, designed for it.  Obviously if
you know what to look for, a porn-studio bathroom, one of 2.  Pretty nice
out-fit, but I never signed anything yet, and hopefully he'd get back to
me, after changing his shorts.  But I fucked him, and he hasn't even
touched my cunt yet.  Smelled it, no doubt, but he'd get back to me.

   My casting call, and I stripped down to a synthetic leather one-peice.
CFNM, I think I got the job.  And Trent, Trevor, what's his nuts, that was
as much to satisfy me as prove I coud do it.  get naked, fuck on queue. 
Niche-porn, but they don't have any Fetish.  Nothing like any of mine,
except anonymus, possibly public sex.  Not yet, anyways.

   Daniel {fDoM}

   She came back to the casting office.  In towels, her clothes allready in
a bag, but we had some logo sweats for her to borrow.  She closed the door,
they don't have locks on them.  Liability issue, actually makes abuses more
likely, according to the insurance.  She didn't sit down.

   "So," I turned the computer around, "You're a child-molestor." I didn't
ask.  She looked up, then back down.  Speechless, didn't answer.  "Look,
everything is off.  All the cameras, and Microphones I know of are
controlled by this suite, check it out." She came around, "See, if you want
to direct, you'll have to learn the editing software anyway, oh and here's
your phone." Unplugged it, she left it on, recording.  I had to hit Stop.
Pointed nowhere near the action, half the video is just ceiling, but I
could hear all of it.  Got it memorized by now.

   "You wanna go for a walk or something" she looked around, "There
somewhere I can smoke?" I pulled out my vaper.  "I mean Smoke, not, steam
or whatever."

   He tucked it in his pocket.  I grabbed my bag, felt my knife grip with
my fingertips, but pulled out my pack.  I didn't have to get myself off. 
That's just what I need, a big hunky guy with a cuckhold fetish to come
fuck me every time I molest a pathetic loser.  Trigger flashbacks to his
abuse, out back it looked like a warehouse, or something.  Like metallic
white painted, stamped interlocking panels, they had a roll-up garage door,
like a parking garage, and a loading dock with truck width roll-up doors.
But no sign or nothing.  Big square windows up top, over each end, in the
triangle of the roof.  Closed, no fans.

   "Where're you from?" Roughly, still getting used to the local accent.

   "All around." I shrugged, stalling while I make up a story, "I don't
like roots, so I keep moving, whenever a place starts to bore me."

   "Well, [City Name Redacted]'s pretty big, so it could take a while."
Turn back to her, seriously.  "Are you a registered sex-offendor?"

   "Noho!" pretend to laugh.  Not buying it, eh?  "I haven't gotten caught,
none of my victims reported us, but yeah." Half shrug, "I molested some
boys." Laugh, "How's all this, legally?"

   "We probably can't use that casting video, but;"

   I interrupted, "I'd prefer to stay behind the camera," thank you,
"anyway.  It's plausible that someone could see it, and recognize me."

   "How young,"

   "As a teenager,"

   "Were the boys?"

   "Well teens,"

   "Mostly,"

   "Well yeah, but none of them were younger than nine," finger up, "And he
was very mature for his age."

   "Men?"

   "All of them were molested before, or all-ready sexualized."

   "How many men have you been with?"

   "Oh, just you, and that guy.  What's his nuts, Trent, or Trevor, or
whomever."

   "Just boys?"

   "Well, and teens, but virgins, other than being molested.  I didn't have
sex with the men."

   "What about your ex boyfriend?"

   "She was more like a woman friend." Rolled eyes, "Huh!  She wasn't a
girlfriend, but we can spot other child-molestors too, right?" As well as
victims.

   "Well, I'm not the child molestor." Serious head-shake, "I was molested,
but I never touched a child, sexually.  Nor would I want to."

   "Well, I don't want to, either.  I mean, I don't want to make any more
childporn, but I have to make a living at it."

   "Well, we don't allow anything illegal here," arm over her shoulders,
"But if you want to direct, I'll look at the footage, and see how you are
at shooting." While she practically told me her life-story.

   "Lucy" {M/B-m Mole Fond Fdom.}

   I'm not sure why, I read stories, and confessions online, and there
always seems to be an excuse.  They were abused, or coerced into it, it's a
"Natural" sexuality like being gay, but to be honest with myself, that
doesn't ring true.  I know it's wrong.  In fact, that sick feeling is what
turns me on.  It's exciting, and nasty, and then when it's over, only then
do I feel bad about it.  I think maybe those other stories are people who
want to lie, justify it, find some reason why they aren't responsible for
their actions, or it isn't abuse.  But it is.  I know that.

   Ironically, I was molested, by another woman, but I let her.  I was a
little curious myself, what it felt like, to be molested like that, but I
was already a molestor.  I had already done it, I had had victims of my
own. I guess I should start with the first one.  I don't remember his name,
he didn't tell me it, but his father said it.  I didn't even bother
remembering his name.  It was my first job, so I had to be about 14.  I was
the hostess at this upscale barbeque place.  I know, it never made any
sense, but I guess you could call it a culinary experiment, or a barbeque
place with delusions of grandure.

   Anyway, we had apps with clever names, and slices layed out in artistic
shapes, with swirls of sauce, and a Hostess to seat you.  And a full bar,
that's what his father was obviously there for.  He didn't even sit down
before ordering a mixer, so I stopped by the bar to place the order.  Then
watch them from my station.  The boy looked bored, he fidgeted, and looked
around.  At the waitress, bending down to take their food orders.  Right
down the open neck of her top, like father like son, I guessed.  They both
watched her ass, as she walked off too.  The dad ordered another, and
finished his drink before she came back with it.

   I remember thinking "The little pervert," his dad looked at me like that
too.  Well, he checked me out enough for the thrill of fear to hit me, then
thankfully moved on.  Had to be about nine, or ten, I'd guess.  Cute, and
he kept his eyes down.  On my chest, the tight top I wore to make tips.  I
never was very busty, everyone always remarked on how much younger I always
looked, while I was self conscious of how much more the other girls my age
were.  Not to mention the waitresses, who had to be old enough to serve
alcohol, at least.  But the little perv didn't seem to mind, he checked
them out, stared openly, like his father, who was all but ignoring him.  He
was too busy tying another one on.

   I guessed they were staying at one of the hotels.  There was the resort,
and cheaper places.  A diner/coffee shop, but they didn't have a full bar.
8 taps with some local microbrews, bottles of liquer, and mixers, it said
Cocktails out front, as well as Barbeque.  The place closed down later,
after less than a year.  There were some good reviews, framed by the door,
for a while it was popular, trendy even, then people got over it, and quit
coming.  A flash in the pan, hahn?  It didn't last until the next season,
but we were still open, trying to hang on after the leaves were changing,
until the ski basin opened up.  It was a weeknight, and we weren't that
busy.

   So, I was bored, watching the parking lot through the doors, a couple
hipsters cashed out, smoked under the awning, but I kept looking back at
the little perv.  And for the first time, I felt hot.  It was weird, I'd
heard about it, but at first I didn't realise why.  But he got up, tried to
hide the little twig sticking out the front, but I saw it, as he headded to
the bathroom.  I'd stopped seating, the doors were closed, and we were
basically waiting for everyone to finish up to leave.  Basically still
hanging out to say "Have a nice night" until they could close everything
but the bar.  But he went right past me, didn't even look over, and went in
the boys room.  He didn't lock the door.

   Now, I had been in there, one of the duties of the job, there was a
urinal, and a stall with a polished wood door.  "Hey," I held it, before it
closed all the way.  He looked up, backing to the toilet.  He looked a
little scared, ashamed, but so cute.  That's another thing, my friends
said, "He's so cute" about boys our age, or grown men.  Actors, or singers,
but I never would see it.  But this scared little pervert, he really was so
cute, with his blondish bangs, and big wide eyes, trying to cover the
little hardness in his pants.

   Tight, not like jeans, but trousers.  I don't remember the color, or if
I bothered to notice.  I moved his hand, bent to touch it.  Just the end,
but he closed his eyes.  I asked him, "Do you think I'm pretty?" He nodded,
but didn't say anything, or open his eyes to look at me.  I pushed it up,
flat on his tummy.  "You think I'm sexy?  Want to touch me?" I didn't open
his pants, but he didn't have a belt on.  They had elastic in the
waistband, the little red ends pulled out with his shirt, with little holes
in it to pull them tight, but I could slip my hand down the front.  Feel
him through his underwear, rub it on him.  He grunted a little, but touched
my chest.  Through my tight top, without a bra to make better tips.

   I felt so sexy, unlike any time a boy noticed me before.  It made me
uncomfortable, boys my age were so much bigger, and scary, especially when
they looked at you like that.  To say nothing of Men, but he barely came up
to my chest.  I realized he was just the right height, so I pushed his face
into them, hugged him to my top, and frantically rubbed him in his
underwear.  I didn't touch myself, never had before, or even thought about
it other than to wipe after peeing, or clean out my period.  But I wanted
to, pull my skirt up, feel around in my panties, or make him do it.  I had
no idea where his hands were.

   It was just so wrong, but why did that excite me?  For him, when nobody
else affected me that way?  He didn't even get off, I don't think.  It just
went soft, and he ran, the door slapped against the side of the stall,
which snapped me out of it, I guess.  I didn't even lock the door!?  I
shook my head, what had come over me?  I had to wonder, because now it felt
bad.  I knew I had, what I had just done, and it was so confusing.  I tried
to put it out of my mind, just go and get my tip-share, turn in the
reservation list, and seating chart.  His father ordered another, the bar
would stay open until 2, but he wouldn't look at me.  Turned away, and he
had his legs crossed.  Like a girl, but tight, and he turned away.

   Like I hurt him, even though it wasn't violent, I didn't hit him, or
even call him names.  I guess that's when I started making excuses.  On the
way home, all the things you hear about men saying.  He wanted it, the
little perv.  I blamed his father, for raising him like that.  Did he fuck
right in front of him, or just talk about it?  Where was his mother?  He
obviously didn't shelter him, try not to look at women like that.  Yeah, he
encouraged it, made him a little perv, the little pervert deserved it.  Did
he, molest him?

   I think that was the first time I thought that word.  I knew it, they
warned us to watch out for men like that.  Child molestors, not to get in
their cars, go anywhere alone with them, take candy from them, or get
caught, where they could.  Molest us.

   I know I played with myself, the first time, as quick as I could get
upstairs, in my room, my skirt up, and my panties down.  I molested him,
and that made me feel so nasty.  I got off too.  So quickly, I barely
touched myself, on the outside, but I was so excited, and it felt so hot in
there, and my hands where shaking, and I could hardly breathe.  I just fell
on my bed, panting, and gasping.  Then I got up, pulled off my skirt, and
underwear, got under the covers half naked.

   And cried, but I kept touching myself.  It was all so confusing, I never
wanted to get caught like that, by a bad man, taken advantage of.  Yeah,
that's what they called it, "He took advantage of me." But I never thought,
never imagined, never even considered I could do that.  Take advantage of
someone, a little boy, at work, in the bathroom, frantically molest him
like that.  I never had a fantasy before, much less such an inappropriate
one.  Never even thought about it, I just did it without thinking.  And it
felt fantastic, exciting, nasty, and scary.  What was wrong with me?  What
if he told someone?  His father, or the manager, I could get fired, or go
to jail, and everyone in town would know how sick I was.

   Besides, who ever heard of such a thing?  A teenaged girl, molesting a
boy?  I just didn't understand it, I still don't.  But I got off again,
crying, feeling so bad about it, but wanting to feel that pleasure again. I
don't know whether I passed out, or just cried myself to sleep.  Thank
goodness they didn't come back.

   And it was a school night.  I wondered why he wasn't in school, which
made me think about it.  What I had done, on the bus, trying to listen to
my friends talk about whatever the hell they were talking about.  But as
soon as the thought got in my head, I felt paranoid.  Like I'd just smoked
some pot, and everyone knew, or would find out.  See the shame on my face,
and point, and laugh, and call me.  Pervert.  I was sick, it was so wrong,
but then I remembered thinking that last night.  "The little pervert," so I
had to cross my legs.  Like he did, only instead of to cover the hardness,
I was scared that I'd start leaking.  Stinking, everyone would smell it,
and know what a nasty slut I was.  Doing it in a bathroom stall, with a
stranger, sure he was just a boy, but they wouldn't think that.  I was a
slut, a dirty whore, and nobody could ever find out.

   I swore I'd never do that again.  All morning, when I was supposed to be
paying attention in class.  I'd never get the chance, it just happened, but
what are the chances that ever would again?  Another boy would find me
attractive, all the boys liked Melissa Keller, or, what's her name, with
the big boobs?  I didn't have big boobs, they felt so tiny, I could hide
them, and I didn't even need to wear a bra.  I started to, because it
flattens them out, makes them easier to cover them up, so boys don't look
at me.  Come up and say things, try to touch me, or snap the strap.  Slap
my ass, or try to grab my chest.  I really hated highschool boys, but none
of them looked at me all morning, in class.  I was a little relieved.

   Then, I went to lunch, and I guess I put it out of my head.  I don't
remember what I ate, I guess I got a salad, like I always did, with the
little packet of bacon bits, like the crackers, sealed up in plastic, and a
little sprinkle of cheese.  The cut up tomatoes, there were a couple
wedges, and a slice of cucumber, and a little tube of Ranch.  I just kept
my head down, didn't look up, or think, until my freind came up.  She asked
what was wrong, why I didn't sit with them, over there, laughing at their
table.  I just shrugged, I wasn't crying, "Just didn't feel like it, today.
I've got a lot on my mind." She asked if I wanted to talk about it?  "Not
really," I shook my head.  "Maybe later," or maybe never.

   I mean, how do you tell your friends, something like that?  I'd almost
rather lie, and say I was gay, but then I couldn't not think about it any
more.  So I threw the rest of my salad away, and went to the bathroom.  I
didn't have to pee, but.  Well, I thought I wanted to be alone, but really,
I wanted another boy.  Not my age, a little boy, with a hard little prick.
Not to fuck, but just to touch, and pull it out where I could see it.  I
didn't know what I wanted to do with it, but I dropped my pants, and pulled
down my panties, and didn't pee.  I payed more attention this time.  Last
night it was like the assault, I just kind of did it.  It was almost like
it just happened, but of course that's an excuse.  A child molestor excuse,
"I couldn't help it!" I could help myself, to a little boy, though.  And it
was so exciting.

   And my hairs felt weird.  Down there, I shaved my legs, because girls
shave their legs.  Armpits too, or we get made fun of.  Get called "Hairy
monkey" by the other girls, or something like that.  They didn't see the
pubes, or comment on them.  I saw it in gym class, sometimes when they went
into, or came out of the showers, grabbing a towel, but I guess I just
thought some girls did it, some girls didn't.  I didn't, before, but now it
kind of got in the way.  There wasn't really that much and I wondered what
it felt like, shaving, and being bare down there.  Or a boy, too young to
have pubes, I'd only felt the one through his underwear.

   Which got me thinking about all I hadn't done, "with him." To him, I
mean, but at the time I was thinking about sex, not abuse.  Not my first
victim, but how I could get a boy, and fool around with him?  See his
little pecker, I mean.  Not a dick, or a cock, certainly not penis, but I
like prick.  "Prick." It sounds so tiny, like a pin.  Cute, and hard, and
even sharp?  No, it squished a little, even before it went soft in his
underwear.  Like hard on the inside, but with skin on the outside.  And I
found a spot, it hurt.  I mean it was so sensitive it was painful, I wanted
to scream, and my hand jerked back, but I choked it off to a grunt.  I
didn't get off, but I wasn't in the mood any more.

   So I started feeling guilty, pulling up my pants, and panties, washing
my hands, and looking in the mirror.  I had to look away, I could see the
accusations in my eyes.  Pervert, dirty child molestor, only this time it
wasn't sexy.  It hurt, and I was so ashamed anyone else would find out. 
Know, and tell everyone about it.  Gather around me in the lunchroom, and
chanting pervert pervert pervert over and over until another girl came in,
and I ran away, crying.

   And all the things I wanted to do to him.  Now it was to him, my victim.
Chase him down, and make him cry, and suck my nipples like a momma, and
touch his butt, and spank him for being bad.  When I'm the bad one, the
molestor, I'm sick, and what the hell is wrong with me?  Thank god the bell
rang and snapped me out of it.r

   Then I had to work.  A Bus shift, but I took my homework, and did it in
the wait station.  By the bus pans, but the customers weren't supposed to
ever see them.  We had to take the trays out there, like the servers
dropping off the food and drinks, but I always turned in the tips to the
servers.  They requested me by name, "Could you clear number nine for me?"
Because they knew I was "Honest," I didn't steal tips, I waited for my
share, and they even added a little extra for it.  But I wasn't honest, I
kept thinking about it, the bathroom.  The little boy that didn't come back
with his drunk father, and the sick things I would do to him if he did.

   I was a little scared to come in, thought about calling in sick, it was
like a wednesday, or thursday, we wouldn't be slammed anyway and the
waitresses could bus their own, without an extra share for the tips.  But I
did, didn't really need the money, but I wasn't that kind of sick, and I
didn't want to lie.  I guess that honesty was why it felt so bad, having to
lie, when I didn't really want to tell anyone, but the secret felt so sick
inside me, and I'm not catholic.  I don't have a confessor, though I knew
what that was.  I wasn't in therapy, so who could I tell?  Without getting
in trouble, this wasn't like taking the single from a $6.00 tip, or
shoplifting.  I molested a child, right over there, in the mens room,
behind the register.

   And I wanted to do it again, but fortunately I didn't get another
chance. Not really a family kind of place, parents didn't bring their kids,
on a school night, and ignore them.  Let them run off alone...  Good,
because, I don't know.  I don't now why I did it, or why I wanted to again,
then never wanted to do it again.  Why I enjoyed the sick feeling, then
felt guilty, then started playing with myself, then cried while I was doing
it.  "Why?" I had no answers.  Maybe I do need to see a shrink, but I'd
have to ask my mother to set it up, and then she would ask me why.  Like my
friend, asking if I was feeling all right.  I would have to lie, or tell
her the truth, and I don't know what would feel worse.

   It's their fault, they don't understand it.  I can't help it, and if
it's so wrong then.  No.  No, he didn't like it.  I think he cried, and ran
away.  He couldn't look at me.  Even now, years later I remember the
confusion like it happened yesterday.  Probably because it kept running
over and over in my head, like a song getting stuck in your head.  Swinging
back and forth between being turned on, and ashamed.  By how sick the
memory was, I kept playing with myself, but sometimes I couldn't get off,
because the shame came back, and ruined the mood.  Then I got turned on
again, and sometimes I got off over and over.  All night, I wouldn't sleep,
just keep getting off, thinking about all the sick things I'd do with a
boy, and how I would go about getting one.  Without getting caught.

   I went like that for weeks, maybe even months.  Work, school, home,
sleep when I could.  Try to distract myself, or focus on the shame so I
wouldn't stay turned on.  Think about how scared he looked, sad and
ashamed, sitting with his father after, when he couldn't look at me.  But
sometimes even that turned me on.  What he gets for being a perv, he wanted
it, he really did, until he felt how weird and wrong it really was.  And I
did shave, in front.  It was getting colder, especially at night, so it
wasn't like I was going to the pool, in a swimsuit.  We used the one at the
motel, since our small town doesn't have a public pool, but with the
college out, and no tourists in town, the Indian family that ran it could
make some more money charging $5.00 each to cool off.

   And I fantasized about it, a little boy, jumping in in his trunks.  His
mother sunning on a lounge, not paying attention while I talked to him. 
Lead him off to the deep end so he couldn't keep his head out of the water
to breathe, because he doesn't swim good enough, or have floaties.  So, I
had to hold him up in the water, get to feel his but, and wet slick legs,
and between them.  His shrunken little privates floating in the water. 
That's what I thought about, the first time I shaved.  Then I felt the
prickles in my skin.  Catching on the blades, sliding over the soap, and
the whispy little hairs.  Then my fingertips, softened, and wrinkled in the
bath.  Swish out the razor, and set it asside to really feel it.  It
swelled up, like it always does when I'm turned on, but that was the first
time I felt it.  On my fingers, with the hairs out of the way, just a
couple of prickles of stubble I missed, or didn't cut short enough.

   And it felt so good, even better than my lips, my fingers rubbing them,
one in between them, but I pulled back the puff, and it was so slick it
slipped back down, and I let out a little grunt.  "Uh!" or somesuch.  So I
did it again, and again, frantically rubbing, and feeling my chest with my
other hand.  My tummy, and my also fresh shaven legs.  My neck, felt so
hot, and my face burned, until my fingers slipped.  Down, to my clit, I
realized.  The first time, I was so caught up in the fantasy that I wasn't
paying attention, or realized where I touched myself, when it hurt.  It
still hurt, it was so tiny, and sensitive, and intense, but this time it
set me off, instead of turning me off.  I had to cover my mouth, but I
still moaned, and it sounded so loud, ecchoing in the bathroom.

   I don't know who was home, or I don't remember.  They didn't knock, or
come in, ask what was wrong when I got out, I just remember trying not to
be too loud.  But god it was so intense, and the first time I got off
without thinking about molesting that boy.  Or any boy, anyone, just the
sensations.  The way it felt, shaving, shaven, with my wet wrinkly fingers,
soft, and puffy with blood.  Like my swollen nipples, burning neck, even my
mouth felt bloated, my lips and my tongue like I'd been holding my breath.
Maybe I did, or should have so I wouldn't moan so loud.  But I got up, let
the water out while I dried off, and went to bed.  It didn't last, that
fresh new feeling of being hairless, I never got off like that again, but I
still felt so sexy, and shaved as soon as it started itching again.

   Then, I guessed it was over.  It was just that one time, I was weak, and
I would never do it again.  Never get those sets of circumstances, like
that's what made me do it.  I was wrong of course, about all of it.

   The second time was on a weekend, and I slept over with some friends. 
It was kind of a party, I mean not like a whole house party, she had a big
room with lots of extra blankets, and cushions, and stuffed animals.  We
giggled, and did makeup, and exchanged clothes, and changed for bed, but
stayed up so late.  And stories, our hostess talked about her little
brother.  Her pervy little brother, peeping on her, and the first thing I
felt was fear.  Nobody noticed, we were all looking at her, and listening
to her, but the whole time.

   I went to the bathroom, to play with myself, and even though I was so
turned on, I couldn't get off.  I guess in retrospect I was too distracted,
because the whole time I couldn't think about anything but her brother. 
Her little brother, not what he would look like naked, or looking at me
naked, I tried.  The whole time I couldn't help thinking that he's right
there.  I walked past his door, cracked slightly, so the light shone in on
his bed.  His face, fast asleep, snoring so cutely.  And I knew, right then
I had to go to him.  I snuck, looking around, paranoiacly, and opened the
door just enough to slip through.  Terrified it would creek, wake him up,
he would see me.  But it was so dark in there, when I closed it, holding
the handle, and letting it go slowly.  Feeling the little lock, sticking
out like a nipple, and pushing it to click quietly.

   He was under the covers, pulled up to his neck, with the sheet folded
neatly over the blanket.  Like he'd been tucked in, his mom was home, but I
didn't see whether she did or not.  He kept snoring, not like sawing logs,
but a quiet breathing, catching in his nose, so I knew right where his head
was.  I slipped my shorts back down, and my underpants.  Both cotton, only
the shorts were soft flannel, and tight.  I touched myself first, rubbing
my fingertips down the front, and over my hairless lips until I felt it
warm, and swell in my palm.  And he just kept snoring, so I reached out
with my other hand.  I opened my eyes, and I guess they adjusted to the
dark.  Just a little light came in under the door, and there was his alarm
clock, I didn't see the time, it was after midnight, the first number
wasn't a 1, but I don't remember.

   It wasn't important, because I could just make out his shape under the
covers.  I even cast a weirdly distorted shadow over him.  And he had an
arm up, over his belly, and chest, diagonal like when I felt up my opposite
chest.  I mean, like the right one, with my left hand, like this.  I tapped
my nipple with my middle fingertip, then rubbed the hard little erasor
around when it stuck out.  I sighed, I didn't moan, but he stopped snoring.
He moved a little, went back to breathing sleepily, but stopped snoring
with a little snort.  And I really wanted to see him, naked in bed.  Under
the covers, but how to do that without waking him up.  Maybe I could get
off, just watching him sleep like this, but though I felt closer, I knew
that wouldn't be enough.

   She warned us that he'd try to see us naked, or "Accidentally" bump into
our buts.  Or our chest with his face, because that's what he did to her,
before she made him stop.  But he was a nasty little perv, he'd try it with
another girl, even if he hadn't already tonight.  She closed the door, shut
him out, didn't give him the chance, and warned us.  But it was hot in
there, now.  So I slipped my hand out of my niteshirt, and pulled it off.
He sighed, and I saw his eyes.  Open, glinting in the dim light.

   "Sh," I bent over him, "It's just a dream.  You ever have a dream like
this before?" I rubbed his tummy, and he closed his mouth.  "Yeah, of
course you did.  All those sexy girls here tonight.  Giggling with your
sister, playing around, and changing clothes, getting naked?" His eyes were
on my body, so I stopped talking.  Didn't even have to ask if he wanted to
touch me, just pushed his arm up, out of the covers, and he reached right
for my bare tit.  Oh!  I felt down, the front of his belly to his crotch.
Fucking underwear, he wasn't hard yet, but it didn't take long for it to
spring up, so I pulled the covers the rest of the way down.

   Ooh!  Such a cute little prick, tenting out the fly of his tighty
whiteys, so I pulled them down, helt them out on the backs of my fingers,
and felt down to his nuts.  His tight little hairless nuts, the skin
contracted until it wrinkled, but I felt the little line up the middle.  I
slipped my thumb under his hard little Prick, and bent down to kiss it. 
Let it slip through my lips.

   I think he got off, he grunted, and sighed.  His breath went back to
that slow deep sleepy breathing, but he didn't snore, as I slipped out. 
The hallway was so bright, and I remembered to leave the door cracked.  But
he didn't pull the covers back up.  I could see his naked tummy, and his
underwear.

   I got off real quick, couldn't believe I got away with it, pulling my
shorts, and undies up on my way out, topless, holding my nightshirt, but
nobody saw me!

   My friend, his older sister asked me where I went.  I washed my hands,
but she said I wasn't in there before.  She didn't notice his door shut,
but guessed I was smoking.  So I said yeah, that was it, I just snuck out
for a smoke before bed.  She asked me what I'd done with the butt, so I
said i destroyed it, and buried it in the sand under the swing.  She had
sort of a love-seat swing thing in the back yard.  Hadn't thought about
that in years!

   I had smoked, tried it a couple times.  Peer pressure, but not enough to
get into it.  Come to think of it, I started shortly after that.  It was an
excuse, to sneak out, yeah that's my secret.  I'm a smoker, an underage
drinker, not a child molestor or anything.  But I'd sneak off to the woods,
on lunch, and smoke one on the way back.  I thought it covered the smell.
I'm not sure if anyone else could ever smell it, but I was so self
concsious of it.  I stank, and got so paranoid that that would be what got
me caught.

   Not doing incredibly risky stuff like molesting boys in semi-public.  My
friend's brother never told anyone.  Well I never heard about it, he didn't
even act different, to me.  Or stop perving, like he never really did on
me. Like the next morning, he had so much better looking friends to look
at, but I watched him.  Maybe he believed the lie that he was asleep, it
was just a dream, even though I said "Go back to sleep" instead of don't
wake up.  Nobody noticed me smiling, I should have said that, maybe next
time I get the chance.

   That kept me good for quite a while.  Remembering it at night, playing
with myself to go to sleep, dreaming about it.  Maybe he didn't recognise
me, in the dark?  It was real dark, and I had my hair tied back, and I was
naked.  He mostly looked at my body, my boobs, which I usually kept
covering up.  In public, where Men could see me.  Give me attention,
standing over me, and stinking, and putting their big rough hands on me.

   I sucked my fingers.  Not in and out, like sucking a dick, but slipping
them out, one by one, like licking butter, and syrup off of them, when we
had pancakes, or waffels.  Like I did on his little prick.  Maybe he
thought it was someone else?  He looked around at all of them, except his
sister, and me.  He didn't even consider me, that I could have done it.  I
was always so modest, and never even talked about sex before.  Whenever my
friends talked about boys I always got uncomfortable, had to get away from
it sometimes, I guess I had some panic attacks, or anxiety, but I didn't
think of it back then.

   They don't teach enough in sex ed.  This was even a progressive state,
with Planned Parenthood, and teachers that didn't censor the language to
protect our tender sensibilities.  You needed a parent's permission, but it
was still mostly like Biology.  That, and the girl's room talk.  Giggling
over phrases like "Fuck my brains out" without any real understanding of
it. Boys said "Suck my dick!" but it was like "Kiss my ass!" Without any
more detail, but regardless.  That's how I learned to suck a penis. 
Through my lips, instead of in and out, with a constant seal.  I liked to
suck it over and over, or my fingers one at a time.

   And to get them wet.  They slip through my lips better, until I started
smelling, and sweating.  I molested myself, even imagined myself standing
over me, hair tied back, face in total shadow.  Then I dreamed about it. 
Him waking up to my hands on him, rubbing him under the covers, pulling
them back, feeling it out through the triangle flap of his underwear fly.
Or pushing it up, under the tent, so the cotton rubbed over the head, and
rubbing it under my hand in there.

   I woke up, so turned on my clit was swullen.  It didn't hurt, as much to
touch it.  Directly, with a wet fingertip, but gently.  Gently enough to
rub it to a screaming orgasm.  I mean I had to turn over, bite my pillow
with my hips propped up on my forearms.  One hand holding it all open,
pulling my pubeless mons with my thumb, forcing my butt up high enough to
slip my fingertip back down from my damp opening, curling it into the
matress, never knowing when it will just barely brush my trigger.

   I woke up, sometimes, barely able to breathe because I passed out with
my face in the pillow.  A bit of it, or the pillowcase loose between my
relaxed teeth.  I was terrified that I'd suffocate myself like that.  My
mom would find me in the morning, dead, with my fingers between my legs.  I
slept like that always, even face up.  I played with myself in my sleep,
sometimes waking up to an orgasm, if not the painful shock of bumping my
clit.  Accidentally, without getting it set up for that.

   I don't fucking know, but that had to be when I really locked in my
sexual preferrence.  I guess the proper word is Paraphilia, beyond fetish,
I don't just get off on it, I need it to get turned on in the first place.
I'm only now realizig what specifically "It," is.  Years later, finally
able to face it, and introspective enough to understand.  It is my
sexuality, I might as well understand it, if not learn to control myself
better.

   Without that, I just need to avoid the situations that get me into
trouble.  Well, my victims, I definitely had a type, and he's a pervy
little boy.  Not the innocent ones, too assexual to get it up, but that
first phase they go through.  When they don't know whether to pull your
hair, or try to kiss you when they catch you, but they definitely know what
they want to chase.  I just don't want to be the prey, and I'm actually
bigger then them.  Size is definitely, yeah I'm a fucking coward, but I'm
also petite.  I couldn't be a man about it if I wanted to, so I have to use
my body for what it's good for.  What little I had.

   I was a late bloomer, didn't even feel like getting sexy until I was
almost 15, or realize what turned me on.  Possibly, that's the disadvantage
of doing this so long after the fact.  I'm not sure how much I forgot, what
got buried in denial, and there was so much fantasy in there it would be so
easy to gaslight myself on that too.  I guess I was emotionally abusive, or
I know that now.  I was always my first victim, and the only one I stuck
with.

   I suppose the separation between acquaintance and victim came from the
fear of getting caught.  There were basically 2 kinds of people: Sexual
ones, and people I knew.  The latter could be sexual, but not with me, not
without finding out how sick I am.  That was the biggest fear, that anyone
would really know me.  I kept up the person they new, the mousey little
asexual girl who always dressed modest, and got uncomfortable around that
talk.  The last person you would ever suspect, she was gone, but it was
still recent enough to remember what she was like.  Before I grew up.

   I started reading everything I could on Child Molestors right about
then. On my smart phone, and the school computers, I didn't dare at home,
or around my friends, but I spent a lot more time alone.  Pedophiles, I
thought I would be because of my strong preference.  Actually because of my
size, I must have fixated on them being smaller than me, and sexually
inexperienced, though curious, and therefore willing.  Willing victims,
they all cooperate at least until one of us ruins the mood.  Sometimes I
got scared and guilty early, before either of us get off, or scared him so
he realized it was abuse.

   But my fantasies branched out, I frigged off just reading an article on
Grooming.  NAMBLA archive, they'd already criminalized, and broken up the
Organization, but it took a while to clear everything off of the internet.
You could still find it, on the Usenets, or some of the underground pages
without too many hits.  So, gradually the memory of the sleepover evolved
into a Plantacy.  A LTR with a boy, I just had to think of a way to find
him.  The right boy, to experiment with.

   Daniel {mb Mole Domi}

   Well, since we're sharing, I kind of got into porn with my brother. 
He's older, and he got some, and shared it with me.  Showed me how to jerk
off, and we did it together.  Like a circle jerk, but just the two of us,
and the magazines, until I touched him.  He said it was gay, and it felt
incestuous to me,"

   "You liked that?"

   I shook my head, opened my eyes.  "Huh!" Took a breath, "It was wrong,
and we stopped doing it.  Even talking about sex, or letting me hang out
with him after that.  He got a girlfriend, and we grew apart for a while."

   "Trevor" works here.

   "Yeah, we patched things up," shrug, "Anyway, after that, I guess I
jerked off solo a while and read the stories.  That was my sex-ed, before I
took it in Jr.  high, and I discovered videos.  That's about where I turned
into a porn addict.  I also did a little stalking and peeping, if we're
being honest.  I never did anything, even break in, but I thought about it.
A lot.

   This was in high-school, and I was in gym too, which is where I met my
first boyfriend.  He was a year older, but a lot bigger, and a jock, and he
caught me looking.  Big dick too."

   "When you peeped, was it guys, or girls?"

   "Both, I knew all the couples, it was a small town, where they liked to
go, and what they did."

   "You're a voyeur."

   "It was better than porn, that was my love-life, for a while.  So,
anyway, he didn't say anything, but I looked away.  But it was the locker
room, the freshmen were changing out of our gym clothes, and the sophomores
were dressing out for their class.  So, when I looked away, there was a
guy's butt, then a topless guy's chest, and arms, and I got turned on.  He
covered for me, and skipped gym.  I skipped math, and he told me he was
gay, too.

   And he liked me, I was so cute, and he kissed me, and I was late for
class.  After school, he walked me home, and I told him about jerkin off
with my brother.  He was my first boyfreind, felt me up a lot, and put his
hands on my but, kissing me.  He molested me, for years before we started
fucking.  He wanted to wait, until I was big enough, but I begged him until
he let me."

   "He fucked your ass?"

   "No, he was a bottom.  Total narcissist too, into cock worship, he was
on top, but he told me "The littler cock goes in the ass." He never fucked
me, he usually jerked off, and made me suck him.  He had girlfriends too.
Turns he was bisexual, and slutty, gave me crabs, and the clap."

   "Herpes?"

   "Gonorrhea." I shook my head, "So I broke up with him, and went back to
peeping, and started, huh!"

   "Taking pictures?"

   "I got a cameraphone.  Videos too, and I discovered internet porn, so I
started submitting "Amateur" stuff, and got a website."

   "Illegal porn?"

   "They were all eighteen plus, I actually made some friends in college,
we just went from amateur to professional when we graduated." It was the
90s, and we're all bisexual.

   "You ever rape anyone?"

   "Of course not."

   "Fantasized about it."

   "No, I," She looked at me, my child molestor girlfriend, blinked, and
shook her head, seriously.  "I knew it would, it wouldn't go like my
fantasy if I broke in, when I watched them."

   "Her?" Melanie, "Alone?"

   "Naked, she played with herself, and toys, to porn.  She looked so
lonely, and I thought, if she only knew how much I loved her.  But it was
creepy, and wrong, and I knew it." I just never had the guts to say
anything, to her, or give her any of the notes I wrote her.

   "But you know that's how rapist start." I closed my eyes, shook my head,
sniffed.  "It's okay, baby," she rubbed my arms, "It's just a fantasy.  You
wanna go out, with your phone?  Watch me get undressed, take a bath, play
with myself, thinking of you?" I was so hard, "Maybe I'll call your big
brother, to cum over, and keep me company."

   I'd seen, the videos.  Edited them, watched him fuck her, my girlfriend.
And fucked the hell out of her, until she was completely satisfied when she
got home.  No matter how many times I jerked off at work, so I could work,
watching him fuck her.

   "No," I turned back at the door, "Not him." Too many issues.

   Lucy {MfM Cuck, Rape, Fant, Porn.}

   I could see my self in the window.  And the headlights, in the driveway.
"Before my husband gets home," I didn't wink, at the telltale.  From his
camera, in the bushes, shouldn't even look right at it.  But it's a big
picture window, I can see the yard, and the sidewalk, cars drive past on
the street.  Nice place, as if it had been built with voyeurism in mind,
there's bay windows behind the tub like a fucking breakfast nook.  My
favorite location, ever since we moved in.  I've never lived in such an
erotic home before, but it was modeled for a little old lady, who liked the
view, and gardening.  A widow, in a nice suburban neighborhood, with the
nicest yard on the street.

   Pause the porn, put down my phone.  "Huh!" Finally, he came through the
door, "He'll get off soon," don't glance at the window, "Better make it a
quicky," pull my fingers out.  Of course, anyone in the street could see
me, or anyone in the yard, hiding in the bushes.  This exhibition kink is
pretty exiting!  He went to the curtains, "No," stopped, "I want to see
when he cums." He got his pants open, didn't even pull them down, kept
hitting me with his buckle.  Probably couldn't see me, more than my legs,
so I acted it up, clawed at his shirt, moaned loud, and faked an easy
orgasm, but he got off on it.

   "What the fuck?" He slammed the door open, "What're you doing in my
house?" Pulled him off by the shirt.

   "No, stop!"

   "Get the fuck out," I saw the telltale, still shooting, on the clamp to
the bricks sticking out under the window.  "Before I BLOW YOUR FUCKing HEAD
OFF!" He just held his pants, running back to the car.  Wouldn't call the
cops, of course, or even think to, that was my line.

   "You came just in time!" his cum, glistening on my thigh, and side, "He
raped me!"

   "Fucking slut!" he pretended to slap me, so I smacked my chest to make
the sound, "I'll show you fucking RAPE!" He hit the cushion, next to my
head, again you couldn't see it from the camera, but my head bounced, and I
acted stunned.  Fell over, but he got my leg up, his pants open, and
finally he was inside me.  It wasn't like rape, at all, I didn't have a
knife in case I triggered, but I needn't have worried.  The dickless pussy
couldn't hurt me, he can act, pretend to, but he doesn't have it in him.

   His hand slipped, on my thigh.  He likes cum, not his cum, but sloppy
seconds.  My man, not the character he's playing.  "Ew!" he held it up,
"Fithy fucking whore!" Rubbed it in my face.  It's all right, I love cum
too.  Wish I could cum, just bust a nut all over me.

   But it made me feel safe, knowing that, and loved.  So I could let go,
just feel his passion, fucking into me with the superhuman strength of
rage. My hero, Adrenaline, bus lifting power, like the tweaker hyperfuck.
Both hands tight on my burning shoulders, sticky fingers slipping a little,
my tits boucing with every thrust, sideways on the couch.  So the camera
can see it.  I got off, and it was mindblowing.  I stopped breathing,
grabbed his wrists, and held them to my neck.  He didn't squeeze, but
couldn't make me breathe, until I passed out.  Yes, yes, oh yes! 
Breathlessly.

   I like how the headlights flashed over the window.  Neat effect, he was
an artist, and there were already pre-orders piling up just from the
description.  He didn't have to edit it much, so we shot a quick talking
head, first.  About my fantasy, "What I always wanted to try, hope you like
it!" ;) So easy to wink at the camera when I'm talking to the cameraman. 
Lie to him, but he loves it.

   Daniel {MF NS OMNI

   Note, Omniscient meaning she writes both points of view, semi-third
person.  Also, sorry about the speling, and grammar folks, but her diction
is atrocious.}

   So, we had a little impromptu get-together, that night.  Well, we
usually sat around upstairs, we had a bar, people smoked up there to unwind
after work.  Believe it or not, all that sex all the time gets old, and it
helps to let it all go together, not talk too much shop.  It's been a while
since I had a girlfriend, and we showed some of her footage, to welcome her
to the family.

   She liked me, though, "We all met in college," I explained.  "They know
about my childhood, experience with porn, but at the time I was taking
journalism.  That never really took off, but this makes a lot more money."
;) She didn't ask how much.

   "And you're all bisexual," pretty obvious, around the friends that can
understand us, and they mostly left us alone.  Together.

   "Yeah, at least.  Um, well at first it was like a circle jerk, but then
some of the guys started bringing the girls in, and it started turning into
bukkake parties, and orgies, so I started recording it.  Uploaded it, and
got enough hits we eventually got sponsored.  College Orgies, wasn't our
first site, but a mirror for the company, until we had enough money to get
our production rights, and buy this place.

   Wave around, in the far-apart rafters of a commercial warehouse.  "So
dot.com.."

   "Yeah, in the early oos, after the bubble burst, but the niche-porn
industries survived, and continued to thrive."

   "You do a lot of Cuckhold stuff."

   "That's most of the money, couples will pay to come get her fucked by a
porn-star, while the husband watches, they like to film it too."

   "Isn't that prostitution?"

   "Not legally, in reality there's a lot of overlap they don't have laws
for, out here, in this county."

   "But it's money for,"

   "The fantasy of starring in your own porno, but if the fetish is
Cuckold, you need another man, and we have those too."

   "Hired a lot of them."

   "This isn't all of them, but it's not hard finding guys who want to be
porn stars, we have to weed out the ones that can't actually do it."

   "Like you?"

   "Not full time," nod, and shake his head, "Huh!  I'm really more of a
voyeur than exhibitionist, and I haven't been in as many, lately."

   "You have body issues."

   "I work in a porn factory, so yeah.  I know for a fact I'm not the most
attractive guy in the room."

   "Me neither," she shrugged, and sneered, "But you're hot enough for me.
No, really you're more my type.  A little nerdy, but I like that, you're
quiet, and a good listener." ...  She didn't go on.

   "Well, you like to talk," and I can't believe I sat through hours of her
talking randomly about her fantasies, and molesting boys until they all ran
together, and I couldn't tell them apart.  But it was fascinating, and I
really learned a lot about her sexuality.  I guess I never thought about
it, hypothetically teenaged girls could molest younger boys, but you don't
take it seriously"

   "I know, right?  Even if they tell their friends, and exaggerate it,
they don't believe them.  None of them went to the police, yet.  That I
heard of, but there's always the possibility.  I didn't leave any pictures,
or other evidence with them, and it sounds too much like a boy's fantasy.
Besides, none of them are in this state."

   "That's why you keep moving."

   "Well, that's why I kept moving.  I grew up in foster homes, even got
adopted a few times, but;"

   "You're an orphan?"

   Shook her head, "Ran away, as soon as I could get away, tried a few
times until I could pull it off, then when I told the social worker about
the abuse, they took me off to childrens' services."

   "What kind of abuse?"

   "Oh, not sexual, neglect mostly, but the only attention we could get was
negative.  Spanked us, smacked me a few times."

   "Your parents?"

   "My mom, and what about your family.  You have any brothers, and
sisters?"

   "My brother's over there." He pointed, "In the striped grey shirt?"

   "Hm," pursing her lips, "I guess I can see it." Who got all the looks.
"Emotional abuse, I guess.  Oppositional defiant conduct disorder, or
whatever.  Hystreonic personality, depends what school shrink you asked. 
I'm not sure why that made me molest boys."

   "No idea, uh." he thought, "How're you getting home tonight?"

   She laughed, "I am home!" She didn't have a car, or a drink.  Took a
toke off the party joints, and passed them.  I declined, but had Shelly mix
me up another "Dark, and Stormy."

   "What's that?" Lisa asked me.  Hell, we all had stage names, Virginia's
not a great one for porn, and it doesn't really suit her.  She looks, so
normal?  Certainly not like a pedophile, but they have to hide it.  In
Young&Naughty sweats, with the pack, and lighter in the front pouch
pockets, zipped down because it was hot.  No bra, not that she absolutely
needed one.  Hair down in front, partially covering her eyes, like they
were hiding in there.  But still, more like a student-teacher then a
college partygirl,or high school slut, or middle school-boy didler.

   "Dark rum, ginger beer, and a twist of lime.  She leaves the bitters out
for me, because I don't like it." Kind of ruins the flavor, you ask me.

   "Mmh!" She licked her lips, but didn't drink any more.

   Didn't look like a letter carrier, either, even in the uniform.  From
her submission video, they played it on the big screen, liked it.  We'd all
seen it, good enough to pick her up at the airport, and let her try a
casting vid.  She watched it with me.

   Self shot, if I had to make a comparison, I'd say Survivorman.  The
establishing shot, just a suburban side-walk, with fences, and maybe half a
foot of median to the street.  Of grass, or bushes, one had a couple small
shade-trees, various lawns, and fences.  A wildflower garden that screamed
old lady, and whispered about cats.

   Walking up with a bag.  Short sleeves, and skirt from the side.  Tucking
envelopes and packages into boxes, making her way up the street, to the
camera.  Turning it, panning across the bushes that were shading it, I'd
bet on a tipod.  Then walking away, in her skort from behind.  Shorts, with
an apronlike flap around the front.  Patch pockets in back, sky blue socks
rolled up her calfs to match the uniform shirt, with patches.  USPS on the
side of the bag, and the front of the baseball, or trucker style cap. 
Instead of one of those wheeled tripod carrier things, but she's young, and
healthy.

   Long tapered braid down her back.  Not even sexy, at all.  Could've been
a mailman, if you didn't look twice, or stop to talk to her.  Nobody did.
Then she pulls out a package, too big, and flat to fit in the mailbox, and
disappears up the driveway with it in her hands.

   Just switches to her coming home.  Takes off her hat, switching between
multiple stationary cameras.  In the kitchen, getting out a beer.  Back to
the hall, walking in the living room.  Popping the cap, and dropping the
lighter on the table.  Sighing, and getting out her cigarettes.  Sitting
down, setting down her beer, and picking her lighter back up.

   Switches back to a camera that would have been in the previous shot. 
Like the camera from it would have still been in this shot, if it hadn't
been moved.  She might-have just moved the same camera.  Flicked off her
ash, and I noticed the beer moved.  Lost at least another drink out of it,
and the label turned away, again.  Brown beer-bottle.

   Over the couch, looking down, she reaches out for the remote, and puts
on some porn.  Digital TV, didn't see the system, but Up/Down/Left/Right
around Select, and a USB drive.  Doesn't matter, it's not a very wide
living room, and there's little more than a coffee table under it, so it's
low.  And in the shot.  She never looks at the camera, any of them, or even
seem to be aware of them, but this is solo.  All shot by herself, but
convincing.

   And lonely.  Gay porn, I mean hunks, and bears gay porn, rough, almost
brutal at times.  Nothing but butch, and some porn-star cocks in there. 
One of our logos down in the right corner, I don't remember it, but one of
our's.  Of course, no copyright infringement if we use it.

   Getting hot, already unbuttoning the uniform shirt on the way to the
couch, then feeling around inside it, and unbuttoning the skort, and
rolling on her side to scooch out of it.  Slick, shiny panties, and bra
joined together like a one-peice swimsuit.  Auto-erotic, she turned the
porn off, and switched to her phone.  To shoot it, eyes on it the whole
time, but panning up, and down her body.  With her hand, pushing down the
top to feelinside it, it really looks more like a swimsuit, but made out of
pleather.

   "You seen this," she turned my head, and pulled me in to her mouth. 
After a moment, she pulled back, "got a bedroom downstairs?"

   She helped me up, "Yeah, like 5 of them?"

   She laughed.  "Cum on," she pulled my arm over my shoulders.

   ;

   "Lucy" {fF Mole NS}

   She wasn't the school nurse, I don't want to get her in trouble, so
let's just say she was in her mid thirties, and worked around children.  Of
all ages, I found out about her through a mutual victim.  This is where
Female privilege comes in.  A single woman works with kids, and nobody bats
an eye.  Men are presumed the abuser, if you say "I was molested" as a boy,
or girl, the next question is invariably "Who was he?  What did he look
like?"

   She looked like a social worker, worked with them too, and specialized
in kids with Behavioural problems.  Often stemming from abuse, neglect, or
precocious sexualization.  So, she knew kids, how to manipulate them, and I
was still technically underage.  And still looked younger, malnurisment
isn't that hard to fake, and I was neglected, several times in the various
homes.

   She looked younger too, and was good with makeup to look even younger. I
guess the word is "Dowdy," dressed down, modest, and quiet.  In public, she
could have been a school-marm, or librarian.

   And behavioural problems, whell, I had those, but I really wanted to get
her attention.  I guess I over-did it, flashing the kids on the playground,
and getting off before they could go tell the faculty.  Not my school, but
our mutual victim went there, and it was elementary.  NhHnhN!  He didn't
tell her, either, but she was the best one to deal with a girl like me, so
they sent me to her, eventually.

   I lied, said I was there for a friend, but I got horny with my
boyfriend, who prematurely ejaculated, so I had to finish myself off.  "I
had no idea anyone could see me!" With the school playground right on the
other side of the fence.  I didn't even say anything to them, with my eyes
almost closed, so I could barely look out, and see their faces.  When they
saw me with my shirt up, bra off, shorts open, and my hand inside it.

   I just didn't mention that my boyfriend was in 5th grade.

   So anyway, she didn't buy it, like I wanted to, so I told her "The
truth."

   "I don't like guys my age, they're all big, and mean, and nasty." I had
to bite my lip, "but boys are so cute, and innocent, and I know they can't
hurt me."

   Then I made up a story about being raped in middle-school, before I
moved there, she got a hold of my records eventually, but I never reported
it.  As a virgin, "Never even thought about boys before;" and she bought
it! Hook line, and sinker, she was obviously drooling at both ends, and I
masturbated in front of her, right there in her office.

   She asked me what I did, so I said I never touched one, even though
there were boys at the home where I was staying.  She didn't have any power
to, but knew some people to get me out of there.  Too strict, and almost
impossible to sneak out of.  You know, for regular kids.  I showed her, but
she led me.  I could tell, she was very good at making you think it was
your idea to show me.  "It's okay, I don't mind." She taught me everything
she knew about grooming, and seducing children.  Keeping the secret, I
taught her a thing or two about them never even thinking they're abused.

   And she molested me, I knew even before she put her hand on my knee I
was straight.  I was attracted to her, here she was, an experienced
pedophile with decades of victims, I idolized her, but she didn't turn me
on.  Molesting me did, it was so weird switching to being molested, but
being straight actually made it hot.

   You know, like the Gay4Pay "Straight" guys pron?  Some college twink
needed the money, so he gets bearbacked by a big hairy daddy?  Well yeah, I
got turned on because I wasn't gay, so she could molest me.  I didn't want
it, which only made it feel even dirtier.  I was able to experience
predatory sexploitation as a victim, see how it felt for them, so I could
sympathise.  Having never been sexally abused before, it actually made me
so much better at it, and appreciate it better when it made them cry.

   I cried, and she didn't like it, but I didn't let her stop.  It made my
nose run, snot down my lips, like cum.  She ate out my ass first, I mean to
show me how it's done, but I loved that.  I got off, with my fingers, face
buried in her crack.  She stopped shaving for me, and I let her shave me.
Lost even more weight, but she got me into yoga, and pilates. 
Body-sculpting, to look even younger, and stay young looking.

   She was very childish, at first I took it for an act, but she never
dropped it.  She didn't talk down to kids, baby-talk us, she talked to us
as a little girl.  IDK how she turned out that way, any more than what made
me a pedorast, but we have to lie about it.  Especially to each-other, our
victims, and allies, any one of them could turn us in as part of a plea
deal.

   She knew lots of boys to play with together, but she really used me
mostly to Recruit them.  New boys, fresh ones that didn't know how to do
anything, so we could teach them.  Me first, so I never saw any of them
again, maybe some times later in a video, but I don't remember any of their
names.  She's not qualified to diagnose anyone, either, but she helped most
with figuring me out.  My weaknesses, and how to plan around them, how best
to use my creativity.

   And BDSM.  The best tops start at the bottom, do victim Rehearsal so we
understand them, well enough to really get in your heads and control you.
How it's not abuse, unless you abuse it.  I already knew how to, without
getting caught.  I hear she finally got busted for Childporn, but sold
almost everyone out for a plea deal to stay out of the media.  She's still
in prison, AFAIK.

   Daniel {Mf Stat Rape NS}

   "I am a registered sex offendor." Already up on my computer, I turned
the screen around for her.

   "Attempted Statutory Rape, Inappropriate communication with a minor,"
she read, "That's a Felony?"

   "Across state-lines.  I got Cris Hansoned.  Entrapment, really, thank
God it wasn't a T.V.  show, but I got caught in an internet sting.  I
chatted some girl up on a forum, for Age-play, she said she was "Almost
18," but sent me photos of when she was much younger.  Didn't have a
webcam, scanned them in from hardcopy, this was in the late-nineties before
every phone had a camera.

   I wasn't in the industry yet, but I definitely had the Pornstar fantasy.
I hinted that maybe when she's old enough we could make some, but she said
she didn't want to wait, and then I got stupid and bought a plane ticket.
Had a camera and everything, she had chat-logs with dic-pics, and attached
files of me jerking off on camera, talking about what I'd do to her if I
was there.  It didn't look good, so I pled out, they made me go to a court
shrink, who said I was a porn-addict, not a pedophile.

   She was a cop, actually agent working with the Attourney general's
office, but with full jurisdiction to arrest me, and lead me out of work in
handcuffs.  Telemarketing, lost that job, never really missed it.  Turns
out they set up the housetrap specifically in a city, and county where the
legal age was 18, so when I said we could "Rehearse" until her birthday, it
was obvious intent to sexual activity with her while she was underage, and
I did flash her online."

   "But you never victimized anyone?"

   "Never wanted to.  No, seriously, I don't want any victims, I never
wanted victims, I'd rather be the victim than abuse anyone, I'm just. 
Huh!"

   "You suck at it.  I'm sorry, but you didn't think that's what you're
doing at the time.  Trust me, I know.  Just like victims can tell
themselves it was concentual, rapists say "She wanted it" all the time."

   "I'm not a rapist!" he calmed down, "Though."

   "Of course not, but you do Exploitation Porn.  You want me to show you
the videos?  Because they're all over the `net.  A lot of those girls
didn't want to be exposed, prostituted on-camera, actually you and I use a
lot of the same techniques."

   Why did I start crying, "But,"

   "It's all right," her chest felt soft, and dry.  "I won't tell anyone,
but I know you get off on it," She held my head out in her hands.  "Like
me," she kissed my eyes, and licked her lips, smiling.  Evily, I never
noticed how creepy her smile was before.  Of course, I never knew what was
behind it before.  "I only bring it up, because that's the kind of video I
want to do, only with the genders reversed.  I looked, there's nothing
likeat on the `net.  The mainstream one, anyway."

   Lucky Guy

   I, ________ Herebye agree to perform in videos for Lucky Guise
Productions, waive all rights to the resulting product, and assert that I
was at least eighteen (18) years of age at the time of it's production.  I
also understand, and agree that any abusive behaviour, or attempted abuse
constitutes a breach of contract on my part, rendering this agreement null,
and void.
Signed:

   _____________________, Lucky Guy

   Lucy {MfM/M Porn}

   It also made fiskal sense, a blowjob in the back of the bang-bus was
like $2-300.00 give, or take, but you don't have to pay guys.  "You wanna
be in a porno?" Just don't mention money, "Just sign here."

   Or something like that, the first time some kid just walked up, and the
cameraman stopped behind me.  "You making a movie?"

   "Mostly scouting for a Porno, but we also need a star.  You eighteen?"
Should've been in school if he was.

   "Twenty," he showed us, and even knew a place to be out of sight.  "What
about him?"

   "He's just the cameraman, but you look like you have a big dick." No van
to cruise around in, so we just walked around behind the minimall, and
found a loading-dock without any cameras.  The dumpsters didn't stink,
there was a Paper Recycling one right there full of Cardboard, so probably
some sort of business out front.  I had the clip-board ready to go.  "Write
your name here, and sign here." I took a photo of his ID, over the blank
bottom of the page, handed it back.

   I wound my finger back at Dan, and turned away from the camera.  "You
ever done anything like this before?" He came around the side, with the
camera down between us.  To catch me opening up his pants, pulling out his
underwear, and balls with a swipe of my fingers inside.  I let them drop
over the waistband, and pinched his cock with my fingertips.

   "This is my first, video." He looked nervously at the camera.  "I never
done it back here, but I used to do it in public all the time with my
girlfriends."

   "You got a girlfriend now?" I pulled up my dress, and rubbed it hard on
my tight tummy.  Nothing underneath, actually a fairly modest denim dress,
like overalls with a knee-length skirt instead of pants, and a modest baggy
top.  No pigtails, kogal suit, or lolly pop, much less lingeree, and
stripper pumps.  Sensible flats, and ankle socks.  Young, but not trendy,
nor noticable.  To get in under their radar, I never look like a slut, a
whore, a filthy fucking child molestor.

   "Not really.  Not serious anyway." Not like I'm cheating on her, right?

   Glasses even made me look a little nerdy, and held my hair on the sides.
Not to mention the pinhole cameras, stereoscopic in the arms, they don't
even fold up.  But they can record, in 3D if we run it through the
rendering software, and I went down for a closeup.  "Mm, yeah!" I pumped it
excitedly, and cleared my throat to spit on it.  "You like that?"

   "Yeah," I slipped his jeans and boxers off his hip with my free hand,
then pulled them out around front, down to the ground.  "Yeah, you like it
out here," I looked up, "Where anyone could walk bye, and see it!" He
looked away, or up, and over at the camera.  Right at the camera, the PoV
of the audience, voyeurs behind their computer screens, dicks in hands, I
started stroking him harder, faster.  Squeezing my fingers to press it into
the web of my thumb, wrinckling the skin under the head, and making it
bulge until it popped through, and washboarded it with my fingers.

   "You like it rough?" I smacked it before he could answer.

   "Ow!" he jumped, "No." Good, I bit my lip, then it's rape, if he says
no. Just have to build up to it, if I have the patience.

   Instead, I petted it, "Aw," kissed it on the top of the head, "I'll be
gentle," I lied, "I promise." And relaxed my grip.  Too loose, barely
gliding around it, soft, and loose, and slow to keep him hard, turned on
until he begged for it.  He put his hand on my head, so I stood up before
he made me suck it.  With my face in full view, probably wanted to come on
it too, but this was My scene.  You do what you're told, bitch.  Or I'll
leave you to jerk off, throw the contract in your face, and find another
victim.

   Besides, I didn't have to get it wet, and I wasn't wearing any
underwear. So, I unbuttoned the strap on one side, slipped the other off my
shoulder, and plucked the rubber from the bib pocket before it slipped
down. Over my blouse, 1 button above the bib-line, not a stitch on under
it. And his hands went right for them.

   I just unwrapped the rubber, and rolled it on.  Drooling at both ends,
the view vignetted by my chin, and his forearms.  Both hands full, I don't
really get the whole boob thing.  I mean, I have enough, barely, to look
at, but what is so damned sexy about a fat chest?  Unless you're a mother,
or a baby, what good are they?  Since I never plan to have a kid of my own,
they're kinda wasted, but I like when a boy suckles them.  A little boy, so
he doesn't have to bend down, just the right height.

   But he's a grown man, and all he did was fondle them.  Play with my
nipples, and try to kiss me, but I felt nothing from that.  Just him
standing over me, chin down so he can't kiss my mouth, force himself into
it, down my throat, choke me on it, make me say "Cock!" No, Femdom, damnit.
Make him kneel.  "You wanna get me wet?"

   Push him down, quick kiss on the lips to gag him, but put my leg up on
his shoulder, and lean over him, with my hand on the wall.  And grip the
back of his head.  "Here." Right there.  Eat it, you filthy fucking worm.
He couldn't see me, the mean look I could feel on my face.  I trusted Dan
to keep me out of it, or edit it later.  The mystery, show off my body all
over, let them wonder what I look like.  Sex, anonymus sexual abuse.  Rape
him if I can get away with it, but otherwise settle for Femdom.  With an
oblivious willing victim.  Then another, and another, maybe find one who
knows how to eat a pussy, but I can grind his nose in pretty hard.  And his
tongue is wet, trying to fuck me with it, like an 8 yearold, with 2 inches
of pink steel.  Not quite enough, but I'm sure ready, to fuck.

   I got in his lap, with a piece of cardboard we turned off the camera to
drag out.  Naked, straddling his thighs, package pulled up on his lap,
rubbing my long tight hot sweaty body up and down his flat one.  Not very
hairy, or muscular, kind of boney, I felt ribs on my breasts, and nipples.
I got off first, and practically screamed over the distant rush of traffic.
Not too far from an overpass, after all.  I pulled him out, threw away the
empty rubber, and jerked him roughly all over my body.  Now he could take
it, a little light pain once I built to it.  Strangling it, banging his
balls with my wrist, twisting it wetly back, and forth, and slapping his
ass to make him jump.  Jerk into my hand, the head thrust all the way out,
bulging, pulsing, spitting on my neck, then aiming it down to my chest. 
Standing up, turning to the camera to shew my tummy, a diagonal stripe
leaping out to cling across it, leak down.  My pussy, more drips down my
side, and leg.

   "Huh!" I wiped my hand on his chest.  The back of it, and my fingers.  I
bent to pick up my shirt, and dress.

   Dan Noel {MfM...  Voye Cuck Porn}

   I watched her footage from the first day.  HD glasses, no display, but
pretty much everything framed by the lenses, expensive, and stylish,
utterly unusable.  I don't even know how she does it, I was there, shot the
whole thing, but when you go back from her PoV it's explicitly criminal
exploitation.  Well, not legally, it's public indecency if we get caught,
but she just pulls it off.  Walks around with a cameraman, picks up like 3
guys, and sexually exploits them.

   Just like she does me, and even my co-workers were beginning to notice,
and mistrust her.  They can't see it, though.  The #LuckyGuy series hit it
pretty big, right off the bat, to a lot of the demographics we get hits
from.  But every single time, she turned to me, put the camera down, and
took me.  On the loading dock, then a public lavatory (Unisex) then tried
again in the dumpster enclosure behind a restaurant.  Closed for the night,
she'd just rolled a drunk, and was fantasizing about a homeless man next.

   I don't have any tape.  I had 15 Gigs of digital memory on 2 flash
drives, I could have filmed over three days continuously with breaks to
recharge, still recording.  But she wore me out.  I carried most of the
equipment, she had like a cigarette pack transceiver for the wireless
headset.  And she's younger, and lighter, and did most of the work.  3
guys, though, 3 more guys, but I got her twice.

   The thing about fantasies is they're not about the mechanical action,
but the situation, and what it means to the people in it.  It felt very
much like my slut wife whoring herself around town, while I picked up her
sloppy seconds, but that's the fantasy.  I knew she was way out of my
league, before I saw her without the brown contacts, before her roots grew
in ginger, and the tan faded.  She disguised herself, as a homely girl that
could really look so much prettier if she;" didn't do everything she did to
act homely.

   The cuckhold fantasy is having a wife like that, who every guy wants,
picks out only the ones she wants, and always comes back to me.

   It was all an act, she knew exactly how good she looks, and as much as
she talks about other narcissists, but she's a Domme.  Femdom.  "Doesn't
work with self-esteem issues." And she did it for me.  All for herself, but
to use me for her career.  Not a porn-star, a big hunky gym rat with a big
fucking cock.  Me, she could use me any way she wanted.  Basically to run
my company, okay I don't do finances, but they'd be lost without me.  I run
the technical aspect that the whole thing doesn't run without.  They can
replace me, but they'd have to, and fire me.  I don't think anyone of them
is capable of that.

   I never thought it would make me feel better about myself, but she's
helping.  Gets something out of helping me, get out of my depression, and
sexual jadedness.  I kind-of needed to try sex-addiction, it's way better
than porn-addiction, or at least doesn't make me as much of a loser.

   And besides, they deserve it.  To be taught a lesson.  The golden rule,
ruthlessly applied, give them their fantasy, the ultimate way they would
wish to be treated, and whip them with it.  Possibly make them question
everything they thought about how they should approach sex, and feel about
it as I have.  Well, now I've seen it hundreds of times, though I still
don't know how she does it.

   "Lucy" {fM/b Pseu Pedo Fant}

   I was a little too old to Babysit.  However, Christmas Break came, so it
had to be about 3 months between quitting work, and the semester ending. 
Family friends, I'd never met, but at dad's work, their sitter was out of
town, so they needed someone during school hours, while they worked.  I
didn't know him, anything about him, they showed me a picture, stopping by
for a few drinks, when they asked if I could "Help us out?"

   He was cute enough, and I saw Opportunity ahead of me.  Dad dropped me
off, and car-pooled, his mom had already left.  There was a list, obviously
one of those over-accheiver moms, he still had after-school appointments.
He didn't go to my school, still in Elementary, and yes I am intentionally
leaving out specifics so none of us can be identified.

   He wasn't activated yet, sexually.  That's what I thought, "Activated."
Still coming up with the words, but he didn't look at my boobs, just
wandered off, went back to his room, practically ignored me.  But I'd been
reading the Pedophile's Playbook (Boys' sexuality) so I fussed around,
cleared some of the easy stuff off the list, and thought about Grooming.

   I went back to the list, actually cleared 'till lunch before the
midmorning snack, and his pill I was supposed to give him with it. 
Bath/Nap in the afternoon, it actually helped me profile her.  Wasn't
really thinking about it, that way, but I found a copy in the trashcan of
the old Nanny list.  Obviously laminated, and posted by the corners
somewhere with pushpins.

   Dom mom, never met her, but doesn't even have to tell you what not to
do. She has your entire day planned out so you don't have a chance to act
out.  Then it's the school's fault.  So, he was enjoying his vacation, most
of the schedules' overlap was stuff the cinderella had to get done while he
was away at school.  Take out the trash, because it hadn't been since she
left.  Not enough money left from buying Christmas in retrospect to hire
another professional at holiday rates.

   Basically putting off going in there, and sexualizing an asexual little
boy.  Subconsciously, but that was the difference.  I hadn't realized that
their arousal was part of the fantasy, and may have narcissistically
expected he would.  Thinking about it, last night, all the things I want to
do to him, but if I wanted to keep this gig, I'd have to sell it to the
mother.  There was still hours to have my way with him.  It got hot,
vaccuuming, so I worked up a sweat, called him out for his snack, and
stripped off my shirt right in front of him.

   The outer one, long sleeves, already thumbholed for winter.  I pulled my
undershirt down, over my bra, and sat down across the table from him. 
First, I had to turn him on, he asked where the food was, and I said "What
do you want?" A choice, how much could he get away with.  He got up, went
looking around the cabinets, I helped him up to it when he focussed on the
cerial.

   "Sweet," Of course I just had to support him under the bottom to help
him up.  My fingertips didn't brush his privates, but not for lack of
trying.  Not too obviously searching, trying for a grope, but if the fine
linen of his expensive pants slipped under his butt, and I happened to
touch anything but the inside of his thigh, it was an accident, right?

   I stank, pantiless, and turned up the heat a few clicks to make it even
hotter.  Put my leg up, under the table to spread my wool skirt, and just
let it out.  Not a clue what that smell is, I got out his meds, the last
one in the Morning tab, and while I was at it, looked at the Lunchtime
ones. "What're these?"

   "Well, this" the one he was taking, "Is for my ADD, that ones for
Bipolar, and the other is an anti-viral, since I'm not vaccinated."

   I won't go through the whole dialog, but I asked questions, ones he
should have been asking for years, about his doctor, and how he came by all
these diagnoses.  It turns out, his mother conspired with the school nurse
to do an end-run around doctors, and found a good signature doctor to pass
out prescriptions.  Then I told him he could experiment with not taking
them, to see which ones he needed or not.

   Only then did I start on Vaccines, and how he could go ahead and get
them, without his mother knowing.  "Why?"

   "Because even if you accept their numbers on side-effects, like Autism,
it doesn't sweep across continents, decimating populations like literal
plagues do."

   "Oh," and I did a lot of Blogging too.

   I was wearing one of my tip-making tops, an old one from the summer. 
Tighter, I'd had some growth, and I didn't even need to check if my nipples
were sticking out.  Some sweat rolled down the back of my shoulder.

   "Are you cold?"

   No, I was hot, but I told him I worked up a sweat on the chores, and
asked if he minded me taking a bath?

   I got off with the water running, to cover my moans, and high breathless
squeeking noizes that sounded so loud in there.  Then, I turned off the
water, took off my skirt, bra, and top to get in.  That took the sexual
tension off so I could just sit back, and fantasise.

   I should've left the door open.  Depends what pedopile you talk to when,
but Casual Nudity is usually pretty early in the grooming process.  I mean,
online it usually cums in the form of a dick pick, "Now show me yours." I'd
seen plenty of cocks by then, but I had a lot of old pictures.  Well, like
last year, but I looked closer to eleven then 14.  And it's so easy to find
creepers online, all it takes is a photo-avatar, looking young, and
innocent.  Some of them even remarked on my looks, but only to butter them
up.

   I'm not ugly, I stopped thinking that when I realized they didn't call
me that as much as the ugly girls.  You hear it anyway, the rich fashion
bitches would throw it back and forth at each other, but it just takes
advantage of being self-conscious about it.  I'm just not pretty, and make
no effort to be.  Young, clean, pretty plain looking, not really someone
anybody thinks about sexually.  And it's perfect, that's why he didn't when
I showed up.  All bundled up, and cold from climbing up to the condo.

   Huh, Young Urban Professionals, but out in a semi-rural touresty town.
There's no reason for Apartments to even be there, but they're more
comfortable in them.

   Then I got all hot, and showed him the real me.  Time to work up a tip.
It didn't even occur to me that he knew what happened, and heard me in
there before got in, and clean.  I mean spotless, clean enough to eat off
of, no soap residue.  So, I came out in towels, dry hair, but didn't bump
around, and make any noise.  The floor creaked a little, right before I
looked around the corner.

   There he was, on the bed, pants pulled up over his knees.  So he
couldn't pull them down, without straightening his legs, and exposing a
flash of his raging erection, flopping up and down in his crotch.  "Oh!" I
grinned.  "I guess you're not supposed to do that either." I caught his
pants, pulled down his legs.  "It's all right," I touched him.  "I'm not
supposed to do this either." I had to reach up, to drop the towel, so his
eyes followed.  I pulled the corner out of my tits, and held it.

   So the bottom flapped down, slid off my hip, not a drop, or hair on me.
I let it fall, and cupped my tit.  Felt for the tip, already found it hard,
and climbed on the bed with him.  I tried to do everything with him. 
First, I pull up his underwear, and rubbed him through it.  It got soft,
then hard again.  He didn't keep it up, but it was always bloated, and
chubby.  I pulled it out through the fly, just to try it.  Trickier then
you might think, I'd need more practice.

   But there was no denying it, this is what I wanted, slipping it through
my lips to get it wet, and playing with it in my fingertips.  Not sucking
it, jerking it off, but just not even really thinking about playing with
it. Enjoying it with my fingers and lips as soon as he started touching me.
And he really knew how to touch me.  He sat up, held my tit to his face to
suck my nipple, and felt down between my legs.  He didn't go in right away,
he felt around, but not curiously.  It was like playing with myself, but
not knowing what to expect, what he'd do next, and I was almost boiling.

   "You're molested before." He was just too good at it to be a virgin.  My
nipple dropped from his lips.

   "My School Nurse used to play with me, when I went to get my meds.  I'm
not supposed to tell anyone, but fuck her!" I laughed, "I can tell you,
right?"

   I couldn't stop giggling now, I was so excited.  And overwhelmed, the
thoughts that there was another child molestor, a woman, and he wasn't a
first time victim, had I ever been with a boy that was molested before, and
he was only my third, and my leg went down.  He had 2 fingers inside, not
all the way in, but enough for my clit hood to pinch between them as they
slipped down and, "You're a virgin?"

   I couldn't answer, I didn't pass out, but I had to fight to not pass
out. Mind blown, and the orgasm wasn't bad either, but my head swirled with
all these new thoughts, feelings, and ideas I couldn't even remember they
flew bye so fast.  But my hand shook, twitched, gripping him, and I got my
thumb over it.  Across my fingers, so I could rub it up, and down the
underside, all the way up the back, and all the way down to his balls.  No
nail, I broke it, or all of them at random, but kept several polished back
from the quick.

   So I didn't scratch myself, or my victims, but I could still scratch an
itch, or pick my nose when noone's looking.  Sometimes you need nails to, I
just didn't have them in any particular pattern.  I actually stopped
cumming, and still felt that dreamy feeling before he got off.  Holding his
breath, and grunting, then he relaxed, sighed, and took a breath.  Only his
prick was hard, twitched a little on my fingers, then in my lips, but
nothing came out.

   No, that wasn't him, but the boy after him that was molested by his
nurse.  I don't know why those memories ran together, but I think I
fantasized him, playing with himself when I got out.  Instead, he had his
door closed, I knocked in a towel, but he was oblivious.  So, I said I was
going to run some laundry, and he showed me where the laundry was.  Stuffed
in a closet, behind-ish from the kitchen.  It was an open floorplan, even
the rooms just went up to ceiling height, but were open to the high vault,
like the roof over that.  So no attic, I guessed.

   Right, family from out of town, but I pulled my panties out of the
purse, bent over to pull them on, pulled my leg up, so the towel folded up
on my thigh.  Right in front of him, he glanced down, then went back to his
room.  For clothes, I grabbed the basket for him, squatted down to
whale-tale my underpants, wished I could have gotten down on the floor,
pulled more out from under his bed, but of course they all went in the
basket.  She made sure of that.

   But Casual Nudity/Flashing.  [x] Cross that one off, he looked, and I
pretended not to notice.  Not as embarassed by it, not running away, no
tent-peg to give it away, but getting comfortable with it.  My body, seeing
what flashes of it he could.  Don't just drop the towel, but find some
excuse to "Accidentally" unhook it, like pushing up the front with the
basket, putting it up on the washer.  Kind of a pantry, too.  All the
shelves over them had like cans and stuff, but the soap was on top of the
drier.

   But that didn't do it, loosened it a little.  I guess, I could almost
feel it slipping, as I pulled out clothes, and handed them to him.  He
picked out the whites, his underwear, shirts too, but he had those little
briefs with the triangular flap for a fly.  Yeah, I really have to try that
next, so let's get this chore done, and move onto the next step before
lunch.

   And Pill/Nap.  One of them makes him drowsy, right about when the school
day would end.  A nice bath, then maybe I can molest him in his sleep.  I
know how to do that, if I can't worm my way into his pants before that. 
"Huh!" I stood up, so of course the towel slipped off my back.  And I
twisted around, trying to catch it.  "Oh, sorry." I had to pick it up, hold
it up, under my chest.

   Rub it up over my tits, caped on my arm like a matadore, but give him
plenty of time to see them in action.  Bouncing out, around, hanging, up,
and down before flattening them around my ribs, reaching behind me to get
the back flap.  Pull it tight, held up by nothing but my boobs, and knot it
around me.  "I hope you don't mind.

   Then he blushed.  Shut his mouth, and said "N'no." Then turned, and ran
back around to the livingroom.  And Den/dining room, that kind of place.  2
bedroom, but all the stuff of a fullsized house.  Master bath, with a
corner Jakuzi I found out.  He brought me a bigger towel.  Like a beach
blanket (A whole time-zone away from any beach) but just aquamarine without
any pattern to it.  A little stripe between the thicker absorbent material,
and a ribbon hem around the end.

   I wore it like a cape, curled up on the couch, and let him find
something to watch.  No video-games, I mean they don't have them, any of
them.  Oh and basic Cable, the guide channel you have to watch, and your
show might scroll bye in like a minute?  No DVDs, not even a fucking VCR.
He found a movie, got into it, Justice League or something, It had Wonder
Woman, Batman, and the green ring guy.

   So, I got up, and looked around.  Their room was locked, but not like a
key-lock.  They had a tool-drawer, in the kitchen with a flat screwdriver
that was small enough.  The kind with like a slot, deep in the hole in the
handle.  Gold ish, coated.  But not coming off, or anything.  Just turn the
pinch thing in the handle on the inside, leave it like that to just pull
closed, if I have to.

   Right, OCD Queen.  Only the underwear drawer messy enough to get into,
hangers evenly spaced in the closet.  But, she's got more then just bras,
and panties, there was a negleje I didn't know the name of in a sort of
shear turquise with jade embroidery around the cups, shoulders, and
straplike sleeves, but to hold the lace that spilled over my shoulders,
because I was too small, and skinny to really wear it.

   And crotcless panties.  I'd heard of them, thought they're the ones
without the period padding, or pantiliner attachment patch or whatever it
is in the crotch of big girl panties.  But this woman shopped at Fredricks
of Hollywood, and I'd never even heard of that.  Probably should start
hanging around in the girls rooms, and actually listen to what they talked
about, but I never thought of that.

   Didn't fit me, nothing did, probably not even the stuff with cinches in
the back it actually occured to me I couldn't adjust.  But that negligee,
even hanging off me like a dress, I even liked how the shadows and folds
underneath my otherwise bare breasts made them look bigger, and did nothing
to conceal my nipples.  Even the dark bloated almost red showed through the
blue/green, indigo?  I don't remember the exact color, but this was a
woman's underwear.  I swear, it made me look 2-3 years older.

   And I had her.  From the picture in the living room, her with her family
around her, a jewel, holding her even younger son before her, like a saint.
This boy had mommy issues.

   "Uh," he looked down from the doorway, "You're not supposed to be in
there." Outside the doorway.

   "Just looking around," I finger-comed my hair.  Found some, threw them
at the trashcan, but they fell on the floor beside it.  Under her vanity
desk, where she would find it.  Like anyone else could clean down there, it
said [Stay out of My room.] in the Nanny's list.  Don't remember which
number it was, but it was right at the bottom.  The last rule, and She
capitalized "My." Period.

   Mommy issues.  "Cumm'ere," I wave at him, "You ever been in here before,
seen your Mother in this?" He shook his head, but didn't cum in.  So, I had
to go to him, and I swear I saw his pants tighten.  Front, and center as I
slunk across the floor, to the door in the corner.  Pushed the drawer back,
saw that there was nothing just hanging out, but noticed the bed had a
headboard you could tie someone to.  It was bent tubes, looked like, I
don't know what kind of metal, but painted in pastells, floral with leaves,
and blooms.

   I pulled the door behind us.  Right, so she's the jewel in the middle of
it all.  Aquamarine, or Turqouse, and surrounded in faded-to-watercolors.
Fluffy cushioned furniture without a straight line on it, floral prints,
probably dressed her man, and boy in earth tones.  Plus green, like leaf
greens, if that's not an earth tone.  White walls, beige carpet.

   So, a little gold, and turquise katchina in the middle of a floral
basket, or a garden, she doesn't have here.  Not a single plant, not even
fake plastic ones, so make that an easterbasket, and paint around it, with
water colors.  OCD Narcissist, control freak, not even sexual.  I know who
she ties down in bed at night, and I bet she plays pretty rough.

   And to be honest with my self, now.  She was a pretty damned
intimidating, this was her house, and I was barely a little bud.  She would
destroy me, for trying to take him away from her, so that's what I did. 
This wasn't about him, he was a grey pawn for the queens well the Turquise
queen, and the black princess to fight over.

   "Let's go."

   I practically raped him, but he let me.  Had to beat him over the head
with sex, but we didn't even make it to his bedroom.  I pushed him back to
the chaise lounge, and held my chest over his face.  With gravity, I didn't
even have lines under them yet, but I remember the backs of my thighs on
the tops of his.  Like a star of david?  Kind of, I had all this drapey
shit in the way, and feel for the front of his pants.  Fucking belt, and
button, zipper.

   I felt around for the flap, caught my fingernail under the edge, slipped
my fingertips in, and flipped my hand over.  I had older brothers, they
didn't fit me, but I practiced.  Just without anything in there, to feel
around, "Ow!" I grabbed his arm, and put it up on my chest, he moved the
other one on his own, but now I could feel him.  Through the fabric, like
the tiniest mesh but I could still feel it.

   Slipping over his bare soft little worm.  Pinching it to slip the skin
up, feel for a foreskin, but it squirted in, and I lost it.  "Shit!" I felt
back down, to his balls, ooh, still pinched under the fabric, but a little
wrinkle of skin I could inch, and pull.  In his lap, I pulled it all out,
and squeezed his legs together with mine.  His head was up on the back,
pressed in between my breasts, holding them, and they felt, wet?  I leaned
back, looked down at his face, the fresh tears welling out.

   He cried, enough for it to soak through, "Oh!" and I felt a twinge of
regret.  But he smiled, sniffed, and didn't let go of my chest.  He didn't
say anything, but he liked it.  So, I scooted up on his lap.  Until I felt
it get in the way, under the slippy fabric, polishing under my thighs.  I
had to feel back, between us, pull it out straight, and hard.  I turned
back, reached behind me, and felt the fabric under me.  The fabric, between
us, I sat down, and pulled it back.  Tight between us, or him, and the
crotch of my panties.

   They pulled back too, and gave me a wedgie.  A camel-toe, really, forced
in by a tight fold of the shear indigo.  "Un!" It hurt, right on my clit
hood, but too hard, so I let go.  But he found a nipple, with his mouth
through the.  Good god that felt good!  Not even nasty, maybe I could make
love like this.  To him, not with him, in his mother's lingeree.  And steal
it, the one thing I needed as a trophy.

   To him, I wish she was a nannycam kind of mom, so she could see this. 
Would be nice to have something to blackmail her with, she'd totally send
me to jail, but she'd get to see it.  Me, taking her boy.  It took some
setting up, but I found the point where my panties, the shear fabric, his
stick, and my clit-hood came together.  Not on it, pushing up to it, his
tighty whiteys bunching up a little around his balls.

   I got off quick, like that.  Just a few frantic shallow humps, I didn't
keep count, but I felt it drool out, soaking into the padded crotch of my
panties.  I heard myself moan, but I was far away, the image of what it
must look like, to her.  I started laughing, and I couldn't stop.

   I got up, and let him fix his pants, I guess.  I went back to work, he
was in there a long time, so I switched the load over, and wished I brought
more clothes.  And comitted as much of what just happened to memory, before
the guilt set in.  I didn't think "I raped him," but I should have.  It was
more than molestation, I knew that, but he came out, his clothes fixed, I
mean perfectly tucked shirt, and it took a moment to realized he changed,
everything.

   I had to hang up the skirt, then wound up dry-ironing it.  But he
avoided eye contact, kind of wandered around a little, looked at the
couch,and went back to his room.  So, I kept ironing, saw his dirty clothes
in the laundry.  "Huh!" Hung the hot skirt up, and pulled the underwear out
of the pants.  Wadded up, in the leg, I sniffed the front, but I took my
clothes off, right there in the side of the kitchen, "Breakfast nook," but
like in the corner of the building.  And a floor up, nice view, probably
nobody down there, but I pulled then negligee off.

   Stuffed it in my bag, with the underpants, it was tight, so I pulled
some stuff out.  I don't remember what, but I still had to take the trash
out.  He was in the shower, and I didn't think anything of it.  That he'd
just been sexually assaulted, he cried, and I didn't even dry his tears off
the front of the negligee.

   He helped me with the rest of the chores, skipped one of his meds, and
didn't take a nap.  Locked his door, and there was no way to open from my
side.  So, I went back in her room, tried to touch as little as possible.
Tucked the underwear back in, the same crotchless panties on top, and
closed it.  Left the obvious other woman's hairs under the vanity, next to
the trashcan, where she could find it.

   Fixed my clothes in all the layers.  She rushed around the house,
probably checking everything, but payed me, and said he could take me home.
He asked me how it went, so I shrugged.  Said something about it being more
work than I thought.

   Daniel {Mf ...}

   "So," she wore me out.  I'm just not used to having sex several times a
day.  Any more, not that I really got used to it.  "You ended up with the
school nurse?"

   "Well, not my school nurse, elementary my dear Watson, but yeah.  Once I
knew there was another female child molestor, I just had to see her.  She
was fully grown, and nobody ever never thought it of her.  Turns out she's
bisexual, so that's when I learned I'm not, but her husband had no idea,
neither did her kids.  I mean her children, she had a thing about incest,
never wanted to be called "mommy." It was like the Rule, she can't even
fantasize about it.

   But since I was into boys, and she knew lots of boys, we molested a few
together, but never the same one, and she helped me figure a lot of stuff
out.  I lied, again, I didn't get too old, but you know this kind of stuff
is wrong, so I have to lie about it.  So anyway, I didn't get too old, she
just doesn't care about age one way or the other, but she went to jail when
one of her victims reported her.

   An older one, he'd grown up, and it came out in therapy, or whatever.  I
don't fucking know why people cover-up the female sexual predators, and
splash the men's faces all over everything, but it was part of this big old
child porn and playmate exchange ring by the time it hit the news.  Huh,
maybe she turned them all in, to keep her name out of it, right?  She's
registered, still serving her sentance and can't work around kids any more,
but my grades started failing again, and my behavioural problems came back,
so they sent me off to the bad kid's school..."

   Okay, she doesn't like to fuck.  Usually, I mean she got off with Troy,
but he's a pro.  I guess I nodded off after a while, but then I woke up, it
was dark, and it didn't feel like my bed.  I was still a little drunk,which
is familiar enough, and I had to piss.  I wasn't used to a young lady
standing over me, next to the bed, playing with my junk.

   Yup, she's a molestor.  She's not just good at handjobs, she likes them.
"Better'n fuckin'!" She doesn't have so much an accent as a bunch of them
she choses from, with no apparent rhyme nor reason.  "I like the taste,
too." Uses her mouth and everything, "But I really love dicks.  Right in
front of me, where I can see them, and feel them, and.  Mmnh!" Rub it back,
and forth over her cheeks.  It slipped wetly from her lips, and she licked
them again, tickling the tip with her fingers, and thumb, then slipping
them down, to grind me into her palm.  Finger, and thumb tight around the
base, pushing her palm hard into my scrotom so it stretched tight over them
against her wrist.

   It only just hurt.  Ached a little, more uncomfortable than painful, but
somehow it made the pleasure even greater.  My breath spasmed, like a
whispered hyperventilating, I couldn't stop, but she looked over, smiled
sideways without turning her head.

   She giggled, and popped me out between her fingers.  Rubbed them up and
down, though the skin was practically dry, and tacky.  Then she gripped it,
thumb-to-thumb, and milked it out, until she was almost crushing my balls,
and the head swelled in her fingers.  She let go, and somehow more pumped
into it, until it was throbbing.  I felt her kiss my eye, and lap at my
temple, a drop that rolled down, and I hadn't felt it.  She could see it, I
looked at her eyes, or her contacts, behind the screens of the lenses.  I
could see it later.

   Then she turned, away, and walked off to the bathroom.

   "Lucy" (femdoM)

   I got my own place, moved out in high-school, kept good grades, and
started writing.  Fantasies, mostly, or Fanfics, I guess.  Take all the
strong female leads from the adventure-epic dramas like The Hunger Games,
and Divergent completely out of character using their fame to molest
children.  I had it bad for boys, and this apartment wasn't helping.  It
has a pool, and a playground.  And I was a peeper, sat down on a lounger,
and checked for tentpoles.

   No luck, too public, and I can't use the boy's room without a boy, cause
there ain't one.  Neighborhood boys, so I knew all their names, some of
them looked at me briefly, then looked away.  Never caught them staring,
just their pervert dads, and I still want to be the pervert.  Ever since
the babysitting job I decided I just want sex, or whatever sexual
exploitation I could get, still had to use my fingers, remembering later,
but that only lasts so long.

   Payed rent bussing at a local diner.  Well, upscale diner, they had
bussing and hostess, but mostly prettier freshmen, and sophomores for that,
when it wasn't the manager.  Weekends, even out of school for the summer,
when they needed the help, and call-ins when someone didn't show.  We had
beer, not like a bar, or wine, but I could sneak drinks in the back, if I
slammed what's left quick before dropping it in the can.  The dishpit can't
see, got caught a couple times, but the grill cook had a pitcher, drank all
shift.  Not heavy, just washed down all the grease, and sweat.

   And didn't have to deal with people, but I had to go out, amongs
them,listen to their stupid conversations.  Clearing a booth, next to a
couple guys, brothers maybe, but one's an asshole, and the other looks at
me.  Bent over, tuck the tip in the top of menu holder for the server. 
It's just money, I'd rather not need it in the first place.  And Quarters.

   "Huh!" he looks away, staring, so I load up the bus-pan, wipe the table,
then the seats, and take it back.  No beer, not much of a buzz going
either, but I remember most of the conversation.

   More like a monolog, about how girls don't want nice guys these days,
they get friendzoned, and confidence gets us in bed.  Chicks dig
confidence.

   "Uh huh?" He didn't take notes, but I watched him watching me, smiled
looking back with the full bus-pan, and went back for more.  Almost done,
and they were just getting their drinks, he looked up at the waitress, I
just had to wipe the table, and seats, push the condiments back, the tips
were gone.

   Steak dinner, and the chicken quarter basket with fries.  Guess which
was which?

   The scrawny kid came to take my buspan from me, so I used the back
lavatory to wash up.  Didn't bring a change of clothes, but I let my hair
down, dropped the apron in the sack, spit on my nails, and scraped at some
of the spots.  On the sleeves, so I pulled those up above my elbows, and
the rest down over them.  Like half-sleeves, or whatever.  No make-up, I
hate it.  Black jeans, and top, to match the apron, no rings if I owned
any, didn't even have my ears pierced.

   "Huh!" A little buzzed, maybe got a beer and a half from the dreggs that
didn't look too nasty.  Only from glasses, especially women's, because they
leave lipstick on the side they drink from.  Just stand it up in the end of
the silverware slot, and carry it back.  I think I need another.  Took me
forever to think of what to say.

   Just plop down next to him, talk to his friend about the Friendzone, or
ask about it, and pretend to listen.  Went out for a smoke first.  "Wh!"

   I guess he saw me, right outside the window, watching him eat, and
listen.  Because when he was done, he came out, easy!

   "Hey." Look down nervously.  How does this go, anyway?

   "You waiting for someone?" I really hate flirting, because I suck at it.

   I pointed my keychain, up the sidewalk, my lights flashed, and horn
"BUMP"ed.  I shook my head.

   "You want me to give you a ride?"

   "I got one," he nodded at the window.

   "Yeah, but where's he taking you?  The friend-zone?"

   "It's not like that, that's when a girl;"

   "Girls like friends.  Some girls fuck them.  Is he taking you back to my
place?"

   He was young.  "What for?"

   "Huh!" I flicked my butt off, "I don't like friends, I just want to
fuck." Try it for once.  I mean, straight sex, with a boy/man.  He's grown
up, just a little immature.  I didn't think Submissive at the time, but
that's why he can't get layed, he doesn't make a move.  Bigger than me, and
not skinny.  I wasn't skinny any more, gotta eat to grow boobs.  Pricks dig
boobs.  There's a long way from fat to skinny, I hadn't decided where to
stop yet.

   "Who are you?" He knows how to use a seat-belt.

   "That's a short question, and a long answer.  I could tell you all
night, and you wouldn't know me any better." Had to think about it.  "I'm
Lucy.  There, does that tell you anything?"

   "Your name," or an alias.  Sure didn't feel like my lucky night.  Still,
he has that boyish innocence, he stank of virginity, and I like that.  His
friend stank of cologne.  "It's a start."

   "Yeah, but it's not going anywhere.  You want to get laid, or am I
turning around at the next light?" It was Orange anyway.  No way I'd made
it to the turn lane.

   "What kind of girl are you?"

   "You know what?" he was really starting to turn me off, "I'm a feminist.
Okay?  I'm sure your cocksure friend there told you a lot about us, but
your subconscious sexism isn't all that attractive."

   "I'm not sexist."

   "I love girls, some of my best friends..." I laughed.  "Oh, right.  The
idea that women can't just be friends with men is the core of sexism. 
Then, when a girl comes to you, offers teh anonymus sex you're taught to go
for, you have no friggin idea what to do with it!  Why?  Because a girl
making the moves is uncomfortable.  So which is it, you want a friend, a
girlfriend, or do you wanna fuck?  Because a girlfriend is your friend. 
Otherwise you have nothing between you but your dick.  Are you just a dick?
Then don't listen to them, then tell me about the friend-zone.  Because I
can't stand that shit."

   "Okay?" At least he shut up on the way back to the apartments.  It'd be
a Motel if they charged by the night, they have weekly rates too.

   "You wanna walk around to the store for me?" I pulled my wallet out of
my purse.  "Get me a six-pack, at least you can buy me a drink?"

   Like I said, submissive.  Now I was getting horny again.  I don't need
the alcohol, that's maybe for later, when I get lonely, and ashamed of
myself.  I hung out on the walkway.  I had a "Balcony," which is to say a
patio door, and enough room for a couple of chairs on either side.  I used
it as a smoking porch, left an ashtray out there.  Should've given him
money for cigarettes, and maybe some rubbers.  So, I made that a test, he
passed.  Fresh box in the Have a Nice Day!  :) plastic bag, Walmart
probably wanted to sue for copyrite infringement over.  Took his sweet
time, though, I could have gone in and changed, even gotten a quick shower
and met him at the door in a towel.  If he knew which door to go to.

   I'm not a slut.  1: I never did this before, and 2: I'd rather be called
that than exposed as a child-molestor.  I'm not even attracted to him, but
I might as well try it.  Maybe it will stop me, like it ever did before,
IDK if we would know if it did.  I finished my butt before he came back, so
I waved, and unlocked the door.

   We fucked.  Didn't beat around the bush much, and it took a long time to
get turned on, so I made him eat me out first.  It was interesting.  I'd
nothing to compare it to, but I had a tongue, down there.  It was wet, and
felt around a lot.  I had to rub my pubes, and pulled them.  Pinched gently
between my fingertips.  He smelled male.  Not just sweat, but manly turned
on sweat, I could smell it.  Even over the smokey nicotine still clinging
in my nose, and that helped.

   He managed to pull on the sock.  I'm no expert on prophylaxis, but it's
not rocket surgery, he had more trouble getting it in.  I had to hold him,
in the ring of my thumb, and finger to aim him.  I even missed a bit, and
had to move it around.  I don't use toys.  He was the biggest thing I'd
ever had in me, and I wasn't really turned on.

   "Huh!" It was tight, "Nh, no!" I held his chest, "It's all right, just,
uh!  Hold still aminit, and let me get used to it."

   "You're a virgin?" He blinked.

   "I never been with a man before, uh!" It almost hurt, "Like this, just
try pulling out, slowH!" I felt like I was going to cramp, but in my
abdomen, up on my belly.  My insides just felt stretched.  Around him, I
don't think he got to the bottom, or I didn't feel it, but he didn't go
that deep.  "Yeah, just take it slow, and" I held his hips, tried to relax
to let him in, but it's not like a muscle.  I learned to tense and make it
tighter later, but this was mostly lack of arousal.  He got the rythm down,
and started fucking a little faster, but then he stopped, and grunted
unexpectedly.  All the way in, I found I wasn't bottomless, but even
feeling him twitch up inside me wasn't even close to getting me off.

   He fell out, "Huh!" Looked down, "Sorry."

   "Yeah," you should be, "You want me to shave for you?"

   I was hairy.  For a teenage girl, mind you, but I never really got into
shaving.  I wasn't even very good at it, but it was always about their
little hairless bodies.  I don't want to attract a pedophile.  I rubbed up
front, hard and fast.  He actually had a lot of curls, down there.  Not on
his chest, or even his belly, but under it.  Cleanshaven, no neckbeard or
anything.  I never actually met one IRL.  They may be mostly on the
internet, but I was still stuck in a small town.

   So anyway, I had a razor, and cream.  Leftover from whenever I tried
shaving my legs.  They're tiny enough it doesn't really make much a
difference if I don't.  The whiskers between them were too thick, and long
to really shave them.  They just got caught in the razor, and pulled them.
He threw out the rubber, but watched.  Stared really, his mouth came open,
but he didn't say anything.  Not much of a talker, I like that.

   Hell of a "First time," but I didn't even think about the real first
time, in the boy's room.  It was kind of dirty, he took the rest of his
clothes off, and watched me.  I just pulled my top up, around my ribs, and
still got shaving cream on it.  I never got hot, enough to want to stop and
take all that off, but he just watched me.  No look on his face, blank,
naked, playing with his soft dick in his lap.

   I had to concentrate now, feel around with my fingertips for spots that
still had foam on them.  Creases to pull away, flat enough to shave beside
them.  I went up my leg a little bit, on the sensitive insides.  It didn't
quite tickle, though I was very ticklish there.  He didn't even try to
touch me, the whole time.

   I got up, "Here," set it down by the can of foam, "You want to borrow my
razor?" I went in to wrinse off.  Wound up taking a shower, getting another
disposable out of the pack, and touched up the ones I missed.  Just with
the water, I had to bend over with it spattering on my back.  Plucked one
with my nails, it was too long, and in the crack beside my thigh.

   I let him have the bathroom, always plenty of water in that place, at
night.  It was the mornings you had to worry about.  I sat on the toilet,
peed, didn't feel like having another beer, so just filled the glass from
the sink.  And myself, legs spread on the toilet, cleaner and more hairless
than I'd been in years.  I'd never been molested, had a small scattered
patch when I started touching myself, after I touched that boy.  Molested
him.

   Right, my first time.  It still turns me on, as awkward, and spastic as
it was.  Only he doesn't run out, he stays, so I can get his pants down,
see it.  I still don't know if he's circumcized.  I waited for the stranger
to get out of the tub, and stood up.  "How'd you do?" I felt around.  "Not
bad," I knelt on the damp bathmat, and picked up the razor.

   "You don't like pubes?"

   I shrugged, "I just don't see why she has to shave."

   "Well, you didn't have to."

   He didn't even nod, when I asked him, "But you expected it." And I made
him eat it first.  I lifted his package, there's actually a lot in a
pinched triangle behind the balls.  Balls.  "Mh." I grabbed the scissors
from the sink.  "Hold still."

   Too much work.  Honestly, going out, finding one, getting him to notice,
even going right up and negotiating through all the shit just to get in his
car.  Men are so high maintenance.  SNP!

   He sighed, or stopped holding his breath.  "Lay down in the tub." I
grabbed the razor, and ran the faucet to wrinse it out.  A lot more stuff
to work around.  I just have to shave away from the flaps, and pull them
out to shave beside them.  He's got all kinds of stuff in the way.  I
almost wanted to hang him upside down.  "Put your legs up," he had to scoot
out.  "Here." I tickled under his scrotum, and juggled them up to hold it
tight.  "Now, hold still."

   It was huge, compared to what I was used to.  Big enough to fuck, I just
wasn't ready yet.  And it was too hairy.  "BRB," I went out, "Wrinse off,"
real quick, for another rubber from the empty box.  As soon as he got hard,
it was handy to hold him, his balls pulled up tight with my thumb.  I sat
him on the toilet, climbed right on, and was reminded of my minor bathroom
fetish.  Not the best place in the house, far from it, so it doesn't really
make sense wanting to go fuck there, most of the time.  Over half, not
counting fantasies.

   He lasted a lot longer, and I could do all the fucking.  Looser, as in
Lucy.  And Lucky, this was his lucky night.  I don't think I'll do this
again, the whole pick up some loser at work, I could have stopped any time,
hell had to talk myself into going through with it, but this is nice. 
Having a full sized cock, even if I have a rubber.  Fucking, I like it, but
not enough to go get it.  I know, this is for Sex Addicts group, but to be
honest that when I knew that wasn't it.  I don't need this, it's nice, I
even got off, there on the spot, but I can turn it down.  Usually can.

   A little boy running off to hide his embarassing boner?  I never could.

   I gave him a ride home, he didn't say anything.  Fine with me, I'm not
much of a talker either.

   Daniel {Mf porn, mB Ince.}

   Okay, now that was a hot fantasy.  That's what she does, she's your
fantasy girl, or can be her, and she wants me.  "Saves the best for last,"
but the fact that she hides it so well is what I get off on.  She doesn't
look like a pervert, but when you get to know her, it's all she thinks
about.  She masturbates constantly, and I've met girls that like to do
Handjobs, but she loves them.  Worships the cock, any cock from the
littlest prick to the pornstar dick.

   She made the rounds, and work kept me busy anyway, but we watched them
together, while I edited.  She played up the Cuckhold fetish, asked me if
it made me jealous, watching my brother fuck her.  He's my brother, the
porn-star.  But there's the Buford the Third I grew up calling Trey, then
there's Troy, the porn star.  We're actors, just playing parts in a scene,
those aren't real people."

   "Uh huh?" And her thinking out-loud is infectious.  She doesn't talk to
herself, she's "An open book," so doesn't care if anyone knows what sick
thoughts she's got in her head.  Around the shop, out in public is a
different matter, but we don't go out much, pick-up take-out on the way
back home.  Nobody lives at the studio, but we can always crash there.

   "I guess you watch him fuck all the time, so."

   "We shared a room, all right?  So yeah, I watched him fuck all the time.
He's older than me, showed me my first porno, and how to jerk off."

   "He molested you."

   "No, uh!  We always played together, we're brothers, and he's my best
friend, but he's always been better with girls;"

   "And you've always been in his shadow."

   "Not really, I mean yeah I make him look good filming, and in editing,
but he's not real smart, and about all he can do is fuck."

   "And what's wrong with that?" She laughed, and squeezed me, "He's good
at it."

   "You too," I turned to kiss her.

   "Yeah, but that's not everything about me.  Sure, it looks like I'm
obsessed with it, but that's because of the environment.  You bringing work
home with you, nothing but sex sex sex all around us all the time, but I'm
not used to it like you."

   "Well, you never get used to it," watching him get her off like I never
did.  "Huh!  Just jaded." Pounding down into her, up on her shoulders,
standing out on his arms like a push-up, but his legs bent up beside her to
shake his hips like a humping dog.  The sound was down, way down, but I
switched to the camera on her face.

   "Can you zoom, and enhance?"

   "I can crop it, clean up the pixels a little, but I don't have the movie
magic crime-drama software." It doesn't exactly exist, it takes months to
enhance an image, and a lot of work, not seconds.  "It wouldn't match the
definition of the rest of the video." Which can sometimes make streaming
less reliable.  We're a quality outfit, not Quantity.

   "Did he touch you, though?" She stroked me in my lap.  "When he showed
you how to jerk off, did he touch you, like this?"

   "No," I paused it by feel.  "There was this guy, in the neighborhood,
but he.  Hhe asked me, about it.  Playing with my brother, if he.  He
touched me once, like "Here, like this," and went back to jerking off, but
it wasn't like that."

   "A man?"

   "Yeah, uh.  He invited me over, had two little girls, but he told me he
always wanted a son, like me.  The girls were in on it, he groomed them,
you know what that means?"

   "Yeah."

   "Well, the older sister said she was an actress, and they took me home
to show me their movies.  Their father was there, and instead of watching
them, we made a new one.  He said we could go ahead, and play, he would
just watch.  I kept looking up at him whenever they did something naughty.
I thought he was just making sure I didn't do anything bad, and I tried to
be on my best behaviour, but they kept flashing me, bending over and
flipping their skirts up.  Or sitting on my hand.  I didn't try to touch
them, but they grabbed my hands, and held it between their legs.  They tied
me up, and rubbed my face in their panties.

   They said I was the badguy, and when they tied me up, they could do
anything to me.  To punish me for being bad, but I started crying, and they
took all their clothes off.  I guess they were seven, and ten, neither of
them even starting to grow up, but they were just playing.  The games their
father taught them, but they laughed, and giggled the whole time.  There
was a lot of tickling too, they loved to tickle.

   Then when they're done he asked me if I could keep a secret?  He told me
he's a bad man, and if anyone found out they'd take him away, and his girls
wouldn't have a father.  His girls couldn't punish him, so he really needed
me to.  Then, he untied me, and got down so the three of us could tye him
up.  The girls helped, slapping his but, and giggling, but I saw his dick,
hanging down, and I knew what to do with that.  So, I jerked him off, and
untied him, and when I got hard, he fondled me too."

   "Yeah," she wiped her hand on my pants leg, "That's a great fantasy."

   I fixed my pants, "Well, I changed it like you do.  My brother's the
porn-star, remember?  Well, when he started getting too tall, he took me
over there, and I went out with the girls for a while, but their father
molested me.  He told me it was all an act, and he could make me a star,
but the Motivation depended on the movie.  Like he had 2 girls, so he
needed a boy for his older daughter.  While he fucked the youngest, his
favorite.

   Then he started doing the gay stuff, showed me what my brother did, and
made me do it."

   "He fucked you."

   "Actually, he was a bottom, but he loved my ass.  He was an ass man,
fucked his daughters' too, so they wouldn't get pregnent.  Or to break
their virginity, that's why he kicked us out when we got too old.  He was
the man in all the scenes, the cameraman, and director.  He even got his
wife into it, made her molest me, and shot it."

   "That where the cuckhold thing comes from?"

   "I don't think so.  That's not, those weren't my favorite scenes.  She
cried too, but he made her go out, and work, and do the housework, though
the girls did most of it.  The youngest had a little maid outfit, and he
made her big sister order her around.  He humiliated their mother, and I
was so confused about, well her.  Why she did it, how he let him treat her
like that, let him molest her daughters.  He never made her touch them, or
watch, even those videos, but he made her molest boys too.  Until he jerked
off, and made me clean it off her chest.

   But he" quote sign "Let" /quote "us tye him up.  Me, and the girls, no
camera, he let us tickle him, and the oldest sucked him off.  I mean he
didn't have to make her, she's very oral.  The youngest was affectionate, I
guess.  She never cried, but she always looked sad.  Clingy, she liked to
hug, and be held, she always pulled your arms around her if you didn't hold
her.  I don't think she was sexual about it, but like you said, neglect and
negative attention.  She was his favorite, but all he did was sexually
abuse her."

   She was so turned on I could smell her.  Yeah, she hates to be
manipulated, but she showed me how.  And I could take a break to turn
around, and molest her in my lap.  I think I get her now, she doesn't want
to play the victim, but she likes it.  And I know how to molest a girl.  I
have some pretty big hands, and a dick that isn't getting hard again
anytime soon, she finally sucked me into her sick little fantasy.

   What really confused me is I kept going back.  I hated it, gave me
nightmares, but I spent so much time there.  All summer, then after-school,
and on the weekends.  Sure, I had an excuse.  A girlfriend, she needed help
with math, but nobody made me go back.  He didn't threaten anyone, I guess
it was to molest the girls, but I still cried too.

   "He liked to make us cry." She shuddered, and ground her stubbly pubes
into my fingertips.  "He always came in, for a closeup.  The movies he
showed me, too.  He knew we hated it, all of us, and got off on it."

   I had to hold her up.  Almost like a seizure, but she just grunted, and
made snorting noises.  Ragdoll, shaking, and flopping, I just kept her from
falling out of the chair.

   Lucy {Mf...M Cuck Real Porn Fant.}

   So, we went out.  Can't get a man without going out, but the honeymoon
was over, and it's his fantasy.  Still don't understand it, I mean he's
Mine, and there's no way I could just stand there, watch him fuck another
girl.  But he's a cameraman, and it was time to go out for a shoot.  For
real, strangers in public, I could hardly wait.  There is the whole legal
SNAFU of actually being proven old enough, using a real ID, it's insane all
the fines you have to pay, and hoops you have to jump through to do porn. I
mean duh, it's all recorded in case something goes wrong?  A guy's not
going to go out raping women, and putting it all over the net.  If he does,
he gets caught.

   But if a girl does it.  Well, it depends how you do it.  It doesn't look
like abuse.  They can't feel it.  The first time, I just jerked off some
guy in a parking-lot.  A quicky, it edited down to a couple of minutes,
most of it dialog.  "Hey, you wanna be in a porno?"

   "With you?"

   Already scouted out spots, there was a big truck in the corner, and a
wall holding the hill back.  But it worked, he barely got the forms signed,
and camera packed up before he was on me.  Pulling my panties down under my
skirt, and yanking my hips back.  Feeling up under my blouse, and pushing
my bra back off.  Practically raped me, if I wasn't so turned on, then we
did it again, and again.  3 times that afternoon, from lunch-hour until
almost 5, and beat the afternoon traffic back to the studio.

   The last one we couldn't use.  It was the best, and I got off again with
his fingers punching into me up to the knuckles until I squirted.  He
fucked it up, in the bathroom, and I thought he couldn't get it up again.
Behind the guy, bending me over the toilet, his ass bouncing like a
twerker, camera straight down, locked on until he beat off, all over his
ass, and shirt.  He just kept right on fucking, got off a little later, and
threw away the rubber.  Signed the waiver, and took his cash on the way
out.

   But I missed it, as soon as I saw his hand and cock cum in the bottom of
the frame, he started bumping my lips with his pinky, and pointer, stabbing
2 fingers into me as fast and hard and deep as he could, and cumming all
over that guy's ass.  While he fucked me, thank god the office are
soundproofed.

   Daniel {FdoM Bond CBT MC}

   I never really was into Bondage.  She is, talks about it all the time,
and she shrink-wrapped me to a chair.  Then she turned on the flat screen.
Large, right there with us, everything moved out of the frame up-stairs.  I
pretended to be passed out, or knocked out, but all 3 scripts differed
wildly.  More like ideas with plenty of improvization.

   Femdom, however.  It was like cuckold, something I'd watched before. 
Fantasized about, but I could never imagine.  She plastic wrapped my head,
too.  Carefully left a slit, and poked the nostrils out with her
pinky-nail, but it was hot, and exposed, and I was shivering.  I wasn't
afraid, god knows why I trusted her, but I insisted on a camera.  A
safe-word.  She didn't gag me, I could see, but I couldn't move my arms, or
keep her from hitting me.

   I've been smacked before, but even through the plastic wrap, it never
felt like that, and I couldn't reach up, touch it with my fingers.  But I
was awake.  "Watch this," she laughs, and puts her hand on my arm.  Just
leans there, her bare hip inches from my hand, watching the screen.  The
locker-room, at the end of the hall, she told me the story.  About dressing
like a boy, before it was even sexual, and sneaking into the locker-room to
listen to them talk.  In the corner, where nobody would notice him, purely
fantasy, until now.

   Practically hiding behind the door, [All models are eighteen, or older]
still across the bottom like a subtitle, literally hiding behind the locker
door.  We don't really use the lockers, it's a set, but the the shower is
nice, though not as private as either of the bathrooms.  4 heads on the
walls, and a couple rows of lockers on the other side.  Tile floor, and a
bench between them, no sinks, toilets, or urinals.

   "What're you looking at?" he slams the locker.

   I looked out, past them, and she looked up from the viewfinder.  In the
shadows, it lit your face, so I saw the wink.  I was already hard, and
trying to cover it.  "Should've edited out when I looked at the camera."

   Might as well get this started, not like she's all that patient.  She
switched to the Camera view, right over the monitor, and dropped the
remote. Otherwise dark in here, some light came in the floor height
windows, under the roof, between the rafters, and shone on the cross-beams
behind me.  Painted box alluminum, but barely a bluish shape in the glow
from the screen.

   "Does it get any bigger when it's hard?" she pointed down.  It pointed
back up, with my balls held up by the sheet that bound my thighs together.
On my lap, I've never been harder, but she kept pointing down, lower, and
closer until she wasn't quite touching it, and I was panting in
anticipation.  Almost hyperventilating, my ribs shivered, but I couldn't
breathe in, and it just fluttered in, and out of me like alternating
current?  I wasn't thinking about any of that, just her nail scratching the
tip.  Just brushing it, but I was so sensitive, it felt like it would
bleed.

   "Gah!" I was really shaking now, but I calmed down, relaxed enough to
breathe as the rubbed it flat.  Up on my tightly wrapped tummy, "Oh, that's
why I love you losers," she kissed my forehead.  "So easy to manipulate. 
Not like those real men," she looked back at the screen, out of the
camera's view.  As if it were still showing the locker scene, circle-jerk,
the guys I knew and loved, bukakkeing me.  It's been shared a lot across
the free servers, just the sample, Gay of course, but it was just short of
a gangrape.  I didn't get fucked, but lots of wet ass slapping, and just
tune her out.

   All that dick, don't listen to her, just let her hand tease me
remembering that, wonderful experience.  So yeah, I'm a bottom.  I got off
first, falling back on the tiles, and almost hitting my head.  I always
thought I was gay, I really am, but I like girls too.  They just don't have
what I want, and She's not, like a girl.  At all, or a man.  She is Her. 
Unique, like nothing else, and the most intense person of my lifetime.  I
don't love her, or even want her, I want her to have me.  Take me like
this, rip me out, and squirm around inside me.

   But I'm tied down, sitting on my ass.  Not even taped, never found out
if I could fart, but it was on the bare wood, and bulging out under the
seat-back.  It kind-of started to hurt, but I couldn't say anything about
it.  I couldn't speak, or remember to speak, or think to.  I was gone, and
I don't know what I was thinking, but I could feel everything.  I'm
submissive, I just never really had someone to submit to.  Now I didn't
have her, she had me.

   She fucked me, hard.  Just a regular rubber, but it hurt.  I have some
idea what rape felt like, physically.  She didn't rape me, I wanted it, all
of it, I never wanted it to end.  I wasn't even afraid any more, I just
wished I didn't cum so soon.

   Lucy {Mf Rape Trig.}

   I knew I shouldn't have gone it alone.  Impulse control, girl!  I knew
it couldn't last forever, but I got over-confident, and I must say it was a
humbling experience.  Got the bastard on tape, it surely was Rape, but;

   I hate feeling like a victim.  Then I start blaming myself, and I really
should have realized what I was subconsciously getting at.  Teasing men
like that, going off alone with one, where nobody would see us, or could
hear me scream.  I can't remember it, but I can watch it, any time I.

   "Ih, h'hihIH!" Damn it, now I'm crying!  I don't cry, stop fucking
crying like a baby, and do something about it.  Stop feeling so helpless it
makes you helpless, and get up, and do something about it!  "Nh?"

   I couldn't even roll my eyes, just look down at the pathetic wretch
curled up in the dirt.  Glasses knocked out of reach, pointed away, but the
sound on to pick up the pitiful blubbering, and mewling noises.

   "Why!" do I keep doing this to myself?  Fucking narcissist, -ic
psychopath, or whatever.  If you're so smart, why are you holding yourself,
with your ass hanging out, wondering if that's blood, or cum, and who's?  I
got off on it, what kinda sick fuck gets off on being raped?  I'm not a
fucking masochist, I hated it, but it still got me off.  Like deep down,
past all the lies I tell myself you really just wanna be taken, by a man.
None of this having to make all the moves, and control it.  You're a
fucking bottom, aren't you?  I have a bottom inside me, tainting my
subconscious with submissive bullshit.  Weakness, paralyzed by fear, and
pain, you worthless fucking cunt.

   Now I know why I buried you, and now you know why I'm burying you,
again, now.  That's right, get up Grrrl.  We need to go get some goddamned
Justice!

   Daniel/le (f/M Tv Role Reve Wife Rape)

   So, I got home from the office, and saw she was home, in drag.  I mean
archie-Bunker, stained wife-beater, we talked about this.  Well, "where you
been," she talked about it, "Woman?" he got up.  I mean she, but I shrank
back in the corner behind the door, and he slapped me.  "Sorry!" I put my
hands up.

   Then, she used the code-question.  "Is the beer cold?"

   "Yes," I swallowed, "Icy." She popped one, PBR Tallboy, I should have
known when she asked me to pick that up.  On the way back from the studio,
she doesn't work there any more.  Liability issues, she submits them in the
Amateur section.  In no way affiliated with [Parent Company name Redacted]
Productions.

   Lucky Guise is our own start-up.  I wouldn't quit, we'd move-on...

   "Least you can do something right," she pulled my mouth back from hers
with a sneer, and bent me over.  Led me back into the room, while I tried
to hang-on to the 4pack.  He belched.  "Get down there," I felt his buckle
hit my ass.  She hit me with it, not as big as Texas, but a man's belt. 
"I'll show you to be late," I guess she doubled it over.

   "Ah!" Even through the corduroy winter pants, and pockets, that fucking
hurt!  She twisted my arm, and held the belt around my wrist, then pulled
my other arm back.  I didn't resist, so it didn't hurt.

   "Who were you with?" He forced my face into the back of the couch, so I
couldn't say "Noone!" without it being muffled, I screamed, but it didn't
go far.  And I slipped away.

   {Soundtrack: Rimskey Korsakov - Scheherazade (Eugene
Ormandy/Philidelphia Orchestra, 1953.  Vinyl.}
"Some other man, trucker by the smell of it, you fucking slut!  Can't
keep your panties on, can you?" Pushing my pants, and shorts down, still
buttoned, but I buy them to fit.  "Why any man'd want such a fatass cow."
All right, my belly makes them looser than my hips, they don't fall down,
or anything.  "What've you been eating, you pig?  I thought I told you to
get ona diet, and your just getting fatter.  You got a bun in the oven,

yet?"

   She cut her nails.  Polished them back so there wasn't an edge, but the
tips pressed into my scrotum regardless.  Almost crushing my balls.  "Good,
a'always wanned to fuck a preggers bitch.  You think it'll be a son like
me, or a daughter, like you.  Wha you crying about, baby?  You WANT!" I
jumped at the slap, "Something ta cry about!?  Huh, baby?"

   She said baby so sweetly before, then spat it, like a schoolyard bully,
and now I remember how that felt.  Curling up so they literally kicked my
ass, instead of my face, or my nuts.  But he turned me over, and I blinked
up at her.  God, she was red!  Like she'd gotten sunburned, in the I don't
know, felt like endless minutes since she'd dragged me in here, and forced
me over the couch.  Now I was at least laying on it.

   "The fuck is this?" She slapped it, and it bounced off my thigh, to my
other one.  Kind of half on my side, and my back, with my arms in the crack
between the cushions.  "He leave his dickin you?  You a faggot now, or
d'you get a sex-change?" Slapped me right across the mouth, straight down
with her left hand, and gripped me so tight I thought it's snap off.  "You
couldn't even afford a real dick?  Look at this little thing, it it big
enough to piss out of?  You still got to squat to piss you little pussy? 
Come on," she forced me up, and pulled the end of the belt so I had to bend
over, walk head-first back up the hall to the bathroom.  "Sit down."

   The tank was cold on the backs of my hands, and I had to curl my fingers
up behind my ass, but she took the seat off?  Cold porcelin, and long thin
hard nailess fingers forcing everything down between my thighs.  "Piss,
bitch!" She held my knees together with her thighs, and pulled my face up
with her hands on my jaw.

   She smiled down at me.  She had the contacts off, but the glasses shaped
stereoptic cameras on, and winked.  It almost looked like, love in her eye?
It was just a scene, not real, I was just getting too into it, I guess. 
"Uh!" I sighed, even though my cheek was heating up from another slap.  I
sighed, and relaxed, listening to the tinkles hitting the inside of the
bowl, and trickling into the water.  "Hm!" I nodded, and took a deep
breath...

   Lady Lisa Liggett {Femdom, duh.  Oh, also forced feminization,
humiliation, mind control, no sex.  It's beyond sexual at this point.}

   I wiped his mess all over his face, "Clean yourself up," pushed him in
the tub, "I'm gonna go watch the game." Licking my fingers, and by the game
I mean a new locker-room scene with some cute guys I hadn't seen.  Same
locker-room, but one of my victims came back, to a Gay4Pay scene.  And it
was pretty hot, they had football pads, jerseys off, and nondescript shorts
on.  Grease-paint.

   His fantasy, Dan swore.  Water/towel boy, I had him pegged as a bottom
long before I pegged him.  Likes dick too, in his hands, and face.  Cute
pecker, and he shaved.  After all I'd, well I didn't pull that-much out. 
Nope, never understand why they come back.  That's victim thinking, and I
suck at victim thinking.  Nice little bubblebutt.  Not fat, at all, but he
ain't skinny neither, and he's got narrow little hips I had to feel for. 
And nice firm round cheeks were just the right handfull, a bit small for
Troys', but;

   Butt, I had to fast forward.  There, it even slips soft out of his lips
with a spit-rope snapping, and flops down.  While the latex sheath sinks
back in behind him, for another stroke.  To the balls, balls swinging into
balls, and I slow it down a little.  "Hh!" Draggggging out of him... 
"Hhuh!" Cute little boy in there with the seniors, trying not to look, or
get caught looking, his wildest fantasies cumming true, jump cut to the
side of his face, cheek flapping out from the pressure of that much cock
slapped into the back of his throat, "KHAGH!  Guk guk guk, gkgkgk;" Forced
in deep, wide eye leaking a tear on the side of his nose.  "Gahk!" She
spat, and panted.

   Where is he, and what's taking him so long?  Grabbing his hips in both
hands, pulling him in to ram him back down his throat, grinning, and
drooling, with his eye shut.  "GRLH!"

   FAPFAPFAP pounding into him, fingercuffs, balls, and dick swinging hard
under the bench.  Spraying, spurts, but swinging up, or down.  Out of sync,
wasting it all over the tile floor, I assume, but a ` on the side blurred
where a drop hit.  Just appeared there, but it kept swinging, and spurting,
in slow motion...

   And where was he!?  I'm so fucking hornee!  But there was no goddamned
way I was getting up.  Going to him, he knew what he had to do, and how
much work I put in to taking in the corset.  "Courset's a lot of work, but
worth it."

   Finally, her shadow went across the light over the kitchen sink.  "Bring
me a beer, baby." In the fridge, nasty skunky shit, but she brought me an
icy can.  I patted her ass, under the skirt.  Maid uniform, or modified
Naughty Maid haloween costume, to be more precise.  I had to add the corset
to give her more of a figure than a dumpy pear-shape.  The waterbragave her
a modest bust, but it was all about the outfit.  I pulled the duster out of
the trashcan, "Here," threw it at her, "Make yourself useful."

   Daniel {MFb Cuck CP.}

   "You got any childporn?" She looked back at me from the couch, "Left?"

   I hung up the costume, "I've nnever even seen childporn."

   "Thought you're lying about that," she got up.  Went in the bedroom, and
came back with a computer from her room.  Looked like a netbook, from
another age, she sat down next to me.  I had too look it up on my phone. 
NEC MobilePro Color.  (*) About the size of a paperback, stretched out to
about textbook length, with a touch-screen, and "Windows CE?" (*) Never
heard of it.  "You know I have better computers," and a smart-phone.  This
didn't even have a USB port.  {* Trademarks used without permission, nor
notification.}

   "Yeah, but it's got a MoDem." Not a radio, or a digital/serial port/bus,
Modulator/Demodulator, 5 pin dialup, with the little tab to hold it in on
the side.  She unplugged it from the side of the phone.

   "Landline?"

   She laughs, "It's actually more secure.  Nobody even writes a virus for
it any more, because nobody uses it, who can afford a decent connection."
It got a handshake, with a tinny harsh echo from the 90's.  An artifact of
putting the receiver directly on a cradle, designed for Ma-Bell phones,
owned by the Company.  "Or knows about it.  Old BBSes, not even connected
to the net, but underground sites for underground stuff, like Childporn."

   She never struck me as all that technically savy, but this had to be
older than her.  If she was to be believed about anything.  Like, "I know,
I look younger." Not really, she looks about tweenty.  Anywhere between old
enough to buy cigarettes, and old enough to drink.  Or, let's say old
enough to appear in porn.  But never, "I'm older than I look." Like 10
years older, I suspected.  She knew who Petshop Boys were, she was alive in
the 80s.  Yeah, they were pop, but nobody under the age of 20 could sing
along to "Suburbia." Sure, it was on the same album as Downtown Girls, but
it hasn't been played much since she claims to have been alive.  Oh yeah,
and Yello, Art of Noise...

   Tunes I had forgotten, but I didn't even recognise Suburbia until she
unplugged the earbuds, and it switched to speakers.  Yeah, she has to be a
lot older than she looks.  "What?" She had it on her phone!  The electronic
chatter settled down, and a Prompt came up.  Restart Computer?

   A completely different reboot, fast, took a couple seconds, but all that
came up was Command Prompt.  Front-door, a picture came up, of a parlor. 
Interactive, "It has a touch-screen?" I eventually looked up the
lot-number, it was built in 1999.  "In Color!" fifteen years old computer
technology, she typed like a TV hacker (Only hitting the keys as the
characters appeared onscreen.) and the filepath appeared in a black stripe
across the bottom.  She looked up, biting her lip checking it, then licked
it, and hit Enter.

   The movie came up in a weirdly familiar window, but she double-tapped
it, and hit a keystroke to make it fullscreen.  She was in it, and very
young.  9-12, if I had to guess, green eyes, and strawberry blonde curls,
no tan, but freckles.  Did she use spraytan?  A tanning bed?  And another
woman, Blonde, tried not to show her face, but, "She looks familiar."

   "My Mentor," she sighed, "Back before she got all into charity." I'd
forgotten all about this before I recognised her again, from a commercial
for For the Children International, Dr.  Connie Foster.

   "How'd you meet?"

   "Through the system," another sigh, "I was pretty fucked up,
Oppositional Defiant Conduct, beat up a lot of boys, molested the ones that
let me, but everyone in town knew me, I was notorious wherever I went. 
Before I was sexual, all of my fantasies were violent." Even her sexual
fantasies are violent.  She took me in, took care of me, with a bunch of
other kids, and mass-produced Childporn.  She's one of the founding members
of the Undernet, AFAIK, she's never been charged with anything more sexual
than tresspassing.

   She coined the phrase "Atrocity Wars." I honestly didn't recognise her
at the time.  People gossiped about possible cannonization into Sainthood.
Unofficially.  It's always the ones you'd never suspect.  She certainly
didn't look like a sex-slaver, either.  She loved children, saved them, and
literally sold them to pedophiles.  Never met her, saw her in a bunch of
movies.

   Very playful, childlike, she didn't act it, she just stripped off the
mask of adulthood, and played with children.  I knew one, and she never
talked about it.  Not honestly, went straight into making it up as soon as
that was the subject.  But she didn't have to lie about what she did to
her. It's all there on tape, I'd bet it was shot on some sort of magnetic
tape.

   [Tranny Nanny, and Dom Mom (FM TV Femdom)]

   "Huh,"

   [The following is Adult Fantasy, all actors are over eighteen, and
professional role-players.  We at Lucky Guise production neither condone,
nor endorse sexual abuse.]

   Like child molesting, even as I wrote the disclaimer, I realized how it
looked.  The doll, babydoll was obvious, I just put it out there, as if any
regular paying member wouldn't recognise the studio.  Nice suburban home,
possibly wealthy enough to afford a nanny/housecleaner.  Still kind of
breaks the suspension of disbeleif, the toy diaper, featurless plastic,
with a hole to pee out of.

   "Ooh, you're nice and wet," squeezing her belly, to wet my fingers, and
bend over.  The camera panning back, or zooming on it's tripod.  Behind me,
bent over, bulge of panties just under the white border of the black skirt.
Too low to be a camel-toe.  Not hard or anything, yet.  Jus going through
te motions, out of frame, leaving the baby-molesting to the audiences'
imaginations.

   Her hip, tight miniskirt, and the bottom of her matching blazer, hand
sweeping back the corner, "What the fuck are you doing?" Balled to a fist,
to prop on her hip.

   I jumped, straightened up, and turn around.  "Uh," She smacked me, but
my makeup didn't smear.  Amasingly good with it, I was surprised how pretty
I looked.

   "Don't give me that," backhand, "PERVERT!  What were you doing to him?"

   "I didn't hurt him, he wasn't even crying, he liked it!" She pulled me
out, slammed the door, and switched cameras.

   "You think that's what I pay you for?" she tumbled over the ottoman onto
the sofa.  More like a coffee table, or one of the sections without the
backs.  Any but the chaise on the end.  Burgundy.  "Molesting my son?" She
stalked into veiw, the camera low enough to catch her leg, and shoe.  The
long stiletto heel, as if stabbed into the ground to anchor her.  "Well,
what do you have to say for yourself?"

   Unscripted, she just told me to pretend to molest the babydoll.  The
life-sized one, with diapers to pee in, and a bottle to feed her.  "I,"
fantasized, "He got hard, when I changed him, and he liked it when I wiped
it, I swear.  He giggles when I do it, it's his favorite game!"

   "You love it," she laughed, "He seduced you?  He's just a baby, hasn't
even said "mama" yet, and he's My baby!" I swear, she just made it up on
the spot, "You can't take him from me," she's really such a better actress,
I wish we showed her face more, but she stepped over the ottoman, and
pushed me back down.  In the corner, she ranted something about her hsband,
leaving, and pulled up the front of her skirt with a camera switch.

   On the side, or end of the corner.  You could see it, the deep maroon of
her underpants, the lacy triangle in front, climbing on over my chest and
arms, pinning me with her legs.  Her stalkings, and the thin tight band of
elastic that held them up, "eat it, you perverted worm.  You know how hard
I have to work to take care of him, without Child Support?" I couldn't
answer, the world was going away, and my face was full of her panties.

   I get it, she's right about that.  What's inside isn't even as big a
deal as who's wearing them.  She's my whole world, I could smell her,
couldn't taste her yet, but she'd withold that, over my face, until it was
dripping, rubbing her clit, and pubes with her fingers until it rolled out,
clung to her lips, ran down her thighs until a drop finally shook off, and
I could lick my lips.  With her hand on my forhead, holding me down.

   I guess I got a little out of character, so I switched to the lamp-cam.
Just tyewrapped to the shade, pointed away, but a good position to frame
the sofa, and easy to keep out of other shots.  Cams need to be in the
blind-spots, pointed into the action.  It's not as easy as people seem to
think.

   Showed her back, blazer, and legs, holding my arms.  And the front of my
skirt, the bottom of my maid's outfit, tenting up.  Behind her, where she
couldn't see, but it reminded me of one of those Futanari cartoons she
showed me.  I thought I knew porn, dismissed hentai, because featurless
colors with black lines to show you the edges never really turned me on,
but it was a hot fantasy.  But I put my feet up, spread my knees so the
skirt fell down my thighs.

   Showed my panties, the crotch bulged over my balls, pulled tight by the
raging hardon poking up the front.  White cotton panties, single layer
crotch, from Torrid if you must know, loose enough to fit my ass in, and
the extra junk.  When I'm not sticking straight up, and she right, that's
fucking hot.  Not playing a girl, but having having hardon in panties.

   She dropped her jacket, and pulled up the back of her skirt.  It stayed
up, but she pushed the panties down over her tight muscular butt, and it
switched back to the other view.  Her swollen crotch, the frilly top of the
panties, but her hands, yanking me in by the hair, and grinding the fat
puff into my nose.  Hard, she could have broken it, at least felt lie a
slap, crushing the bottom of my nose, "Get me wet, you pitifil bitch!  You
like boys?  Can't handle a real woman?" she pulled me back, one handed,
slapped me.

   "No," I struggled, "stop!"

   She raped me, right there on camera.

   Eugene {bMF CP}

   First time I used that name, nobody got it.  My mom sent me a message
with a ticket, so they picked me up at an airport.  Boy, she really took to
it, became a porn star, dominatrix, a lot of rape-fantasy, forced
feminisation, cuckhold, marital rape.  "Fantasy," right.  Taught her
everything she knows.

   It was good to see her, she Changed a lot.  She kissed me, didn't look
like a way amother shouldn't, out in public.  "You got so big!" and hard,
in my pants, and her hand between us.  A little more complex than your
typical mother-son fantasy.  "This is Danny." Her bitch, told me so much
about him.  Told him I was just one of her victims, liked to call her
mommy, but I never been with a man before.  "Curious," and she thought he'd
be perfect for me.

   Not really, he looks like a child molestor.  Premature balding, good
start on a middleaged gut, hystery of sexual abuse, by his brother, hot
wife way out of his league, and professional pornographer.  Never been with
a boy before.  But, he doesn't know what he's getting into, our not so
little secret, she still can't talk about.  I mean can't, pathologically
incapable of it.

   But so submissive!  She broke him good, like a mind hacker, but with
nothing but sex.  And fantasy, violence, rape, molestation to flash him
back.  I saw all the videos, he shot, in impressive quality.  I have to
respect an artist, who loves their work.  And she's done a lot of work. 
Yeah, I'm the master, but had once hoped to be surpassed by my student. 
I'm still learning so much from her.

   She drove, so we could have the back seat, "I always wanted a man," I
opened his pants, pretended to gasp, "You're so much bigger'n me." Almost
like a post-hypnotic suggestion, he just relaxed, closed his eyes, never
been molested by a boy before.  Well, his brother was about 13, when they
started jerking off together, but older, starting to mature.  Not smaller
than him, with a bald little boy dick, I put his hand in my pants, but he
started rubbing it right away.

   Bless my luck for finding a child molestor, a girl.  So much better then
rape, you can get in their heads, and destroy them.  Their lives, which
they have to live, with the memories, the nightmare, instead of killing
them.  That was easy, child's play.  This, I never could escalate, until I
discovered this.  Start slow, playful, maybe flash them a little to turn
them on.  No, I've never been with a man before, like this, as a boy. 
"HhHhH!" I shivered, and bent over in the seat to taste him.

   They fucked, I could taste her on him.  Just like it smelled, she tilted
the mirror down, over to watch us, so I stayed where I could see her eyes.
Stare at her, ;) They smiled.  I don't miss her, remember her fondly, and
still fantasise about her when I need to get off, but she's on her own now.
Free to use it however she want, and doing well.  That's another thing
about death, you don't get to see them again, how they're doing.

   Daniel {M"b"f Mole Cons Rape Asph}

   It felt weird without the camera.  Some things you don't record, I'm not
getting into child porn.  But this, okay, i always wondered what it's like.
Not being the boy, yes i was attracted to them, but it scared me.  Like
peeping, fantasies of going in, waking her up.  Before I raped anybody.

   But i wasn't doing anything to him, he touched me first, put my hand in
my pants, sucked me off.  He had a hardon too.  Right there in the back
seat, it swelled in my fingers, and felt bigger than I expected.  "You're a
big boy!" I wouldn't mind it being smaller.

   "Big enough to fuck you?" I hoped so, but he was only 7.  He smiled,
missing teeth in the side, but I didn't feel it.  On my dick, he lied. 
Nobody can suck you off that good their first time.  It took me forever to
suck him off the first time, before he took it and jerked off, "You still
shooting blanks?"

   "I can cum, a little." he held it out to me, pinched it, and milked out
a little drop.  Maybe she's right about how sexuality can cause precocious
growth.  She started early too.  Hard to believe he's just seven, but I
thought the same when I found out Lucy was just seventeen.  Stupid retarded
taboos, children can be sexual, often are, all the rules about men touching
boys just holds them back, and that can make them serial killers.

   I licked my lips, tasted like prostate fluid, mostly.  So premen, just
starting to make the juice.  "I'll be cumming soon enough," He winked at
her, watching in the mirror, so i sucked him off.  Another drop came out,
and it was thicker, even more flavorful.  "Huh!" I caught my breath, but
we're almost to the house.

   "You wanna role-play, or just fuck?" Lucy didn't get the camera, just
sat back, and watched.  Played with herself, but didn't show it, just her
fingers, twitching between her legs, and sighing.

   "Let's hold off on the roles until we can make up a good fantasy,
together." As a family, I always wanted one.

   He had my pants undone, then "Bend over," slapped my ass, "daddy." He's
tossed a salad or two before as well.  i could tell, but it got so intense
I could just lie there, on my knees, and shoulders.  Turning my head to
moan and drool, as he worked a seccond finger in.  Just to loosen me up, he
brushed the gland, but my ass slammed shut when he pulled out.

   And grabbed my ass, spread the crack, pulling me back, and down.  It
felt even bigger, dragging through the wet hairs, and his fingers.  Pushing
it down, aiming it, and swirling around a little.  "Ohhhhh!" he felt so
good inside me, but he didn't fuck.  At all, i just felt him, get up, his
legs under mine, to push it down inside me.  Against the gland, I felt the
tip, flatten, and I swear the fluid, pouring out like piss.

   I passed out, but i felt it tingle even as everything slipped away.  All
i could feel was that numb tingling inside, and my hardon, going numb.

   .

   .

   Natali {DMf Cyber Poss}

   {Hello,} I giggled inside him.  {Nasty fucking way to take you, but it's
quick!} When a guy gets hard, it shuts off the urethra from the bladder, so
there's only one place to go from the prostate.  Upstream, through the
vessicles, to his balls.  Infecting them, rushing through the nerves so he
can feel it, up the shunt to his pelvis, coccyx, vertibrae, skull, and into
his mind.  {Can you hear me now?}

   {Wh?} He helped mom hold me, through the seizure, and let go when I
opened my eyes.

   "I knew it!" She let go, "You can let go now son," she moved his hands.
Junior's, he just stood there, blinked after a moment, breathed slow and
deep as if asleep, instead of just having wrestled with a grown man, and
his mother.

   }What's wrong with him?{ Glad you could join the party, }You talk so
fast{ no, you think too slow.  Hahaha!  Not the way this conversation
usually goes, you ask what am I, then I tell you I'm a sex demon from hell.
You're MINE, got that?  Now, in answer to your question, he's a little
retarded right now, because he's never thought for hisself before.  He's
been possessed his whole life, so it takes a while for them to learn.

   }But,{ so slow, }There's no such thing as demons.{ I beg to differ, you
feel that?  }What?{ Nothing, that's the sound of your heart not beating. 
Here, have some pain.  }Ah!{ I'm in every nerve in your body, you know
there's no pain receptors in your brain?  }It still hurts!{ he can't even
hold his head in his hands, so I just cut it.

   {There, still want to argue about the existence of Demons?} No, please
don't.  You don't have to do that again, I believe you!

   "Bassy?" I'm amazed she could say it out loud.

   "Bassy's gone," I told her.  {Who's Bassy?} Quiet you, "IDK where, never
tells me.  Had something to do, no idea what." My partner, okay, my Master,
if he ever came back.  He's the one that made me a demon.  {The devil} It's
a little more complex then that, but that'll do, for your pitiful mortal
understanding.  {I knew it, she couldn't have, been like that;}

   I laughed, "A child molestor?" out loud, "No, she was always a chid
molestor before I found her." Rubbed her arm, "The first one I didn't have
to rape." I let my arm down, turned to junior, "But enough hystery," I
always love to molest my bodies when I'm done with them.  "Think i should
kill him, or put him back on the plane?" He's half braindead now, but he'll
remember me, and everything we did.  And she turned out so well.

   Meanwhile, I talked to my new victim, shewed him things, to unlock his
memories.  The good parts, the sex, and violence.  It helps to know the
stories beforehand, but watching him tell it, on video crying is nothing
compared to reliving it.

   Danny {mb Jerk Porn Mole}

   My big brother, he's always bigger then me, but mom and dad left for our
sister's soccer game, and he wanted to "Show me something."

   "Where'd you get these?" Porn.

   "A friend,' he shrugged, "You jerk off yet?" I knew he did, heard him at
night, and in the afternoon.  I told him to lock the door, but then I had
to start knocking.  When we had the house to ourselfs.

   "I tried, nothing happened."

   "Your doing it wrong," he unzipped his pants, "Go ahead, get it out so I
can show you." They boys in the pictures did it too, but they were older
boys.  They had hair around it, and their balls, they looked so big in
their hands, and Trey had some too.  He was still bigger then mine.  "See?"
he pulled on it, "This is how you stroke a cock." I tried it, and it felt
all right.  My pinky bumped my balls, but I felt I can stroke it longer
with just 2 fingers.  "Yeah," he played with his balls, "Just look at the
pictures." I tried playing with my balls too.  "Just likeat."

   We did it every afternoon, whenever mom and dad were gone, they were
busy all the time, so we had the house alone all the time.  Or we went for
walks together, and he let me sleep with him when i stopped wetting the
bed. {HeTouchedYou} the first time, it felt weird, but he said it's okay,
"I'm your brother, it's just like touching yourself." Not gay, like the
boys in the magazines.  The ones he showed me, he had other ones with
girls, but he liked to look at the boy's ones with me.

   We didn't have any toys, so he made me finger him, until I was big
enough to fuck.  By then, I loved it, sucking and jerking him off.  On my
knees with him standing over me.

   Lucy {fb Mole Mnem}

   {Okay, she lied.} My first boy, well he wanted to see me pee.  I wanted
him to show me too, but he said he couldn't, and it was sticking out.  I
never seen one stick out before, but I loved watching them pee.  Always
did, whenever I could, I don't know why.  He said he had to "Fix it first,"
and jacked off, right in front of me.  Nothing came out, but he let me hold
it when it got soft, and peed for me so i could feel it.

   I guess we molested eachother, he was older, but still a boy, and I
guess the pissing game was just an excuse, the first time.  In retrospect,
now I know more about pedophiles, and how we work.  Then we got caught, and
forbidden to see eachother again.  His folks moved him away, so I went and
found other boys to pay with.  Younger boys, they're easier to talk into
doing stuff.  You know how kids are all fantasyland, and don't understand
the real world so well?  Well, the younger they are, the easier they are to
take advantage of.  So, i played games, and made up stories to explain it,
so they didn't say anything stupid, and get us caught.

   Or brag, that's what got us busted the first time, he told all his
friends, and they didn't believe him.  Until one of them caught us, and
tattled, probably just jealous.  I'm pretty sure we're the only kids doing
it, in fourth grade, so the rest were so immature.  But I like immature,
don't ask me why it's sexy.  Then, I started middle school, which made it
easier, since all my boys were still in grade school.  Couldn't do it
there, so I met them after, so we could go have kiddy orgies.  Or
gang-bangs, most of them couldn't keep it up, but with 3 or four of them,
there was allways one of them ready to play, and it turns the others on.

   Not really fucking, mostly acting like it, pretending, but lots of
touching, and kissing, and sucking, and licking.  Figured out i'm
multi-orgasmic with a quickness, then that boys aren't.  Then i got in a
lot of trouble, and the "Kiddy sex ring," was on the news for a while. 
They didn't show all our faces, kept looking for the adults responsible, my
folks got fined real bad, and that was the end of that.  So, we moved,
crappy little tourist town in the middle of nowhere.

   {It took me forever to find her, but as soon as I found out about the
little girl, molesting boys, and having gangbang parties out in the woods,
I just had to check her out.  I raped her, strangled her unconscious, and
took her in her own room.  When she woke up, she thought it was a nitemare,
until she started showing.  Her parents blamed her, asked who he was, and
thought she was up to her own tricks again.  They didn't believe her, with
her past, but she'd only been molesting tourist's kids in season, to not
get caught.}

   Amanda Hunt {...  Cybe Rape}

   }Amanda Hunt.{ I stopped.  }I read the stories,{ Of course, Lucy knows
about the ASSTR archive, and the Undernet.  And he's a

   }Porn expert, sweety.  Sure, I thought they're just stories, but.{ It's
a long story, I have a finite memory, have to edit it down to just what I
want to remember, and it helps to have backups.  I don't have to read them,
but it's nice to have them to send to people.  Point at and go, "Look,
see?" They don't believe them.

   }How can we?{ Good point, and it's supposed to be a secret, classified
since the government got involved, but that's why she never told you.  She
can't, try saying the name "Amanda Hunt" out loud, when I leave you. 
}Leave me?{ Attention span was never one of my strengths, baby.  }Don't
call me that,{ Hahahahaha!  You're serious?  What part of Mine are you
having trouble with?  I know your triggers, and I play with them because I
like too.  Whatever memories I like are mine to, you're such a good little
victim.

   "No!" }Why{ "Uh!"

   Yes, I love your fear, you ever molest yourself?  With your own hands,
crushing them, and "Ahhh!" fingers up your ass, "Stop!"

   "Come on, sweety," I invited Lisa, "He still doesn't understand rape."
}Just kill me!{ "Huhehah HA!  You're gonna love this one!" ;)

   "I missed you," she kissed us, "So much." my Mother.

   }Ah

   h

   h

   h!

   .

   .

   Daniel

   {Hello?} Nothing, {Hello!?} She was gone, nothing, everything was gone.
This is not Subspace, I don't know what it is, or where, there's nothing to
go on.  Blackness, silent, I can't smell, or

   I Can't Breathe!

   I try, but there's not even a chest, or air, or anything.  I, is there
an I?  Am I, anything?  How can I be thinking this?  What happened?  Don't
remember, I don't want to remember, it's too terrifying.  I can't cry, or
shut my nonexistent eyes, but I have my answer.  {Why?} What could I have
done to deserve this?  What could anyone do?  Nothing could deserve this.
I'm worthless, I exist only to suffer.

   .

   .
   Hello?