Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 M/f pedo kidnap bdsm





   Written by Bozo Da Klown

   Preteen Bound



   This story is written in the form of a narration on behalf of the mean
maniac kidnaping, corrupting and raping children.  For the sake of
satisfaction of the perverted lust, he transforms them into obedient
slaves. Their any resistance chokes with the most severe image.  A vivid
example of full loss of human shape, as at Chekatilo and Fisher.

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

   This product contains descriptions of scenes of sexual violence over
children.  As any normal people, I not only do not approve criminal acts of
the hero of the story, but also I consider their mean and deserving the
most severe punishment.  All described in this text is the perverted
imagination of the author.

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



   The prevention:

   If you are not full age and as if for reasons of morals you would not
like to read the description of scenes of violence and a sensuality,
please, do not read this text and erase a file from the computer.

   Take all measures that minor children could not read the specified text.

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





   Chapter 1





   She lay quietly in the back of my van as I drove along the highway at
the speed limit.  Wouldn't want to be stopped by a cop just now, not with
the precious preteen piece of ass I was carrrying.  It had been ten minutes
since I had kidnapped this seven-year old little girl from the park.  She
hadn't even put up much of a struggle.  She had been pretty trusting, even
though my ruse hardly ever failed with girls this age.  I've done this many
times before, so it shouldn't be that surprising to me.  Little girls are
just naturally trusting unless you do something stupid.  The trick is to
keep a low profile, pick the right target at the right time, and move
quickly once your prey becomes vulnerable.  Patience is critical.  Take the
little piece of pussy I had in the back of my van, for example.  I had
watched her play in the park for over an hour before striking.  It was a
brilliant Sunday morning late in September, so it was still warm enough
that no coat was needed.  She and her little brother were all dressed up
from Sunday school.  Her mom was sitting on a park bench distracted by a
book.  Unnoticed in my van parked inconspicuously behind a grove of trees,
I had observed her while casing the park for any potential threats.  She
was so pretty, a miniature little beauty that was just begging to be
introduced to my cock.  I stroked my seven-inch dick as I watched her run
and play, occasionally seeing a flash of white cotton panties underneath
that little sexy blue dress she was wearing.



   I had watched her mother take her little brother into the park's
restroom.  This was the moment to go for it.  No one else was in the
immediate area.  I was dressed in a concessionaire's uniform pants and
shirt, all white with red stitching above the left breast pocket that said
'Coca Cola'.  I wore a white hat with a black brim, the kind that ice cream
vendors wear.  This outfit always causes little girls to drop their guard.
My non-descript white van adds another element of realism to my ruse, since
it looks like the kind of company vehicle that someone like myself would be
driving, despite the fact that it has no windows on the sides or back
(don't want anyone peering in and seeing my preteen pussy all tied up).  I
strode up to her leisurely, as if I was just enjoying the day, and told her
that my name was Dave, what was hers?  She shyly said that her name was
Kristin.  As if the thought had just struck me, I told her that I had just
finished my shift and had some extra cokes and candy available if she was
interested, pointing at my van.  Wouldn't cost her a penny.  At 5'10'' with
a medium build, thirty-something in appearance, a pleasant demeanor and
smile, I was not at all intimidating to her.  The uniform and van clinched
it for her.  Kristin cast a look back at the restroom.  I told her it would
only take a sec.  We walked the twenty yards to the van while talking about
squirrels and such.  I led her around to the back of the van where we
couldn't be seen from the restroom.  I looked around to be sure I wasn't
observed.  I opened the back doors and told her the cokes and stuff were
inside, so why didn't she just go ahead and climb in and get what she
wanted.  When she hesitated, as I knew she would, I grabbed her under her
arms and tossed her into the back.



   The van is soundproofed, so that if she yelled she wouldn't be heard. 
I'd had the back seats removed to make more room.  A full-size mattress
covers most of the floor, making things more comfortable.  I had also
installed a heavily padded sliding partition that closed off all view and
sound from the front of the vehicle.  I had built a little compartment on
the wall of the van to hold the tools of the kidnapping trade.  When I
threw her on the mattress, she landed on her back.  I quickly jumped in and
closed and locked the doors behind me.  It was completely dark, adding to
her terror.  I fell on top of her.  She was too shocked to say or do
anything.  I could feel her heart pound away as her breath puffed in gasps
on my neck.  The little second-grader (I guessed) was barely four feet tall
and maybe all of 60 pounds, so she had no ability to resist me.  I couldn't
do anything to her there that would take any time because of the chance
that someone would check out the van when her mom discovered she was
missing.  I opened the compartment on the wall, right where I knew it would
be in the dark, and pulled out a small flashlight, handily placed there for
just this moment.  I turned it on and sat it on the mattress next to us. 
There was enough reflected light that I could now see what I was doing. 
She couldn't move because my full bodyweight was on her.  I splayed her
legs open when I fell on her, so that one was on each side of my
hips.Without saying anything, I unbuttoned a couple of buttons on the front
of her dress so that I could get quick access to her chest.  I slid my
right hand in through the opening.  God she was nice and flat with no signs
of emerging tits.  She gave a start as I tweaked each tiny nipple for a few
moments.  I moved my right hand down lower and felt Kristin's stomach.  It
was like a smooth washboard, perfectly flat with well-defined muscle
groups. I reached down with my left hand and pulled up her knee-length
dress, bunching it up around her waist.  I had to do a quick survey of her
little pussy and ass.  I slipped my left index finger under her panty
crotch and massaged her virgin slit while I tweaked her tiny left nipple
with my right hand.  I then grabbed a handful of her long blond hair with
my right hand and jerked her head back.  Her beautiful little white neck
shone in the glow of the flashlight.  I gave her a big sloppy lick from her
dainty left ear down across her neck and around to the other little ear.  I
softy chewed on both ears for a few seconds, relishing the little crinkles
within each.  Her breath came in short gasps as I pushed my tongue as far
as I could down into each ear.  She wasn't putting up much of a struggle.
Some of the little girls I've had put up a big struggle.  I actually prefer
that, since it makes it more of a conquest when they are finally subdued.



   Her breathing was becoming labored and she made little mewling noises.
All this time I kept stroking her hairless slit with my left index finger.
I didn't insert my finger.  Not yet.  I noticed that she was getting a
little slick, probably because she was about to pee herself.  I had a
raging hard-on that pressed against the inside of her right inner thigh. 
No time to pull it out of my uniform pants right now.  I then checked out
her little ass.  I pulled my left hand away from her crotch and reached
around to her lower back, lifting up my body a bit to get access.  I shoved
my left hand down under the elastic of her panties.  I traced the cleft
separating her cheeks down to her asshole.  Her assring was sticky wet with
fear too.  No time to play with that little rosebud right now either.  I
then kneaded each perfect little globe with my palm and fingers.  Her skin
was as soft as a baby's.  Her ass had just the right heft and weight to
make you want to fondle it all day.  My left hand could nearly span her
entire ass.  I whispered in her left ear that she had a perfect little ass
and pussy, just perfect for cock reaming.  She had recovered enough from
the initial shock to respond in a quavering voice.  "Please don't hurt me,
mister." I smiled and said nothing.



   Had to get going, no more time to play.  I quickly pulled out some small
handcuffs, leather gag, and a roll of one-inch duct tape from the
compartment on the wall.  I quickly handcuffed her wrists behind her back
and bound her ankles together with several wraps of duct tape.  I pulled
out a pair of my dirty underwear that I had taken off that morning.  I had
worn them for three days, knowing what I was going to do with them.  I held
her head still with one hand while I thrust the dirty underwear under her
nose, making her breath its stench for a few moments.  I then forced her
mouth wide open with my index finger and thumb placed at the joints of her
jaws.  Her mouth looked so desirable that I almost pulled out my stiff
cock, but the rational part of my brain that was barely still working
overrode this thought.  I balled up the underwear and shoved it past her
teeth, using my fingertips to shovel it all in.  Her mouth was completely
jammed full, her cheeks so expanded by all of the material that she now
resembled a chipmunk.  "You like sucking on my dirty underwear, my little
Chipmunk?" She couldn't close her mouth all of the way, so her full lips
were parted as I wrapped the red leather gag around her bloated mouth to
the back of her head, securing it firmly with a double knot.  She was now
all nicely trussed up for the long ride ahead.  I shone the flashlight on
her.  Her big blue eyes averted the glare.  I could hear her tortured
breathing through her nostrils.  I had left her dress bunched up around her
panties and I had also left the buttons undone on the front of her dress.
Hog-tied and gagged, she looked perfect for raping.  It had been at least
three minutes since I had captured her, so I had no margin of time left.  I
had to get going.



   Now here we were, traveling down the highway, as she lay quietly on a
mattress that covered most of the van's floor.  I slid the partition back
and peered into the back of the van.  Enough light came through the opening
that I could see her lying on the mattress.  Kristin looked so adorable
bound and gagged fully clothed..  I had positioned her so that she was
lying on her side facing the front of the vehicle, although she was free to
move about within the confines of her bindings.  Her eyes were open but she
didn't look at me when I asked her how she was doing.  I assumed that she
was in a state of shock.  It usually happens this way with girls this
young. The light through the opening accented her fine, wavy blond hair,
which framed her perfect little preteen face.  With luscious full lips (now
hidden by the gag), large blue eyes with long eyelashes, an upturned little
nose, and delicate ears, she was a pedophile's wet dream.  She was a
slender girl with perfect alabaster skin.  She was the kind whose skin
would burn easily without some sunscreen protection.  When I had felt her
up, I confirmed that her hips were very slender, not yet showing much hint
of an hour-glass shape.  There was no baby fat left on her.  Her legs were
to die for, with well-defined calves and thighs.  She would look great in
little high heels.  Her little ass was like butter.  At six or seven, she
was the perfect age.  A few years from now she would probably be a complete
bitch, as most women usually became, especially beautiful ones.  At this
age there was still an innocence and wonder about the world.  She had
probably never even heard of a cock, much less seen one.  Well now she was
going to learn all about it.  She was all mine to do with however I
pleased. But that would come later.  Now I had to get as far as I could
from the park before the authorities had a chance to pick up my trail.



   After about an hour and a half, I was some 100 miles or so from where I
had snatched the little girl.  I was in a forested area, traveling down an
old dirt road.  There was seldom any traffic in this part of the woods.  I
had brought many preteen pieces of ass here in the past.  I pulled off of
the road and followed a track into the deep woods for about a mile.  It was
just nearing dark as I pulled up to the old abandoned cabin I had used so
many times in the past.  Now I was safe and could get on with business.



   My cock had been throbbing for most of the trip just thinking about what
I was going to do to her.  It had been several months since I had my last
preteen pussy.  The little girl's occasional moans could be heard over the
road noise, all of which had heightened my anticipation.  I just had to get
some immediate relief in the van before moving her into the cabin.



   I parked the van and turned off the headlights.  I switched on the
interior light and pulled back the partition, then crawled through the gap
in the front seats and into the back, closing the sliding partition behind
me.  At some point during the trip she had moved her body around so that
she was facing the left van wall as viewed from the front seat.  She was
lying on her left side with her knees pulled up to her chest and her head
oriented towards the front of the van.  With her wrists handcuffed behind
her back, it was obviously more comfortable for her to be on her side.  Her
long golden hair was tousled from the rough feel-up I had given her.  Her
knee-length frilly blue calico dress that buttoned up the front was still
bunched up around her waist, exposing flawless white skin.  I could see the
top of her flat chest through the opening of her dress where I had undone
some buttons.  She had on glossy black shoes with little straps, and lacey
white anklets.  Her feet were still firmly bound together by one-inch wide
gray duct tape.  The bright interior light had jolted her from her stupor,
and she twisted her head around upon hearing my approach.  My cock twinged
as her beseeching blue eyes locked onto mine.  Tufts of my soiled underwear
peeked out from the edge of the red leather gag.



   I stared at her for a few seconds, bent over because of the low roof.  I
pulled a digital camera from a little compartment and took several pictures
of her from different angles.  These would make great jack-off fodder
later. I might even put them on the internet, since there was nothing in
the scene that could be linked to me.  She watched me with a mixture of
apprehension and terror as I undid my belt and pulled down my zipper.  I
dropped to my knees and positioned myself right above and behind her head.
She emitted a muffled squeak as I roughly rolled her onto her back.  She
now lay on her handcuffed wrists which forced her little ass up off of the
mattress.  I tilted her head back so she was looking straight up at my
crotch only a few inches from her face.  Her eyes were wide-open and
getting sort of glazy.  I worked my jeans down to my knees.  My seven-inch
cock was now fully hard and strained against the gauzy cotton of my
underwear.  Her eyes widened even more with fear and I could hear her
breathing quicken through her nostrils.  I then spoke for the first time
since we had stopped.  "Do you know what I'm going to do to you?" She shook
her head slowly.  "Well for starters my little preteen cunt, I'm going to
give you a lesson about the birds and the bees.  Did your mommy ever tell
you about the birds and bees?" Again she shook her head.  A tear had formed
at the corner of her left eye.  "I guess I will save her the trouble then."
With that I leaned over her body until my face was right above her lap. 
The irresistible aroma of little girl pussy filled my nostrils.  My hardon
was now just a couple of inches from her face, but still hidden from view
by my underwear.  I grabbed the hem of her dress with my fingertips where
it was bunched around her waist and pulled the jumbled folds back further
so I could get a full look at her panty-encased pussy.  I was nearly dizzy
with lust.  My cock jerked against its confinement.  She had pressed her
thighs together out of instinct.  Since only her ankles were bound, her
knees could still be parted.  I had planned it that way.  I slipped both
hands between her thighs and pried her trembling legs open.  She resisted
at first, but relented in the face of overwhelming power.  I gruffly told
her to keep her legs open.  I reached back to my uniform pants which had
bunched around my knees and pulled a knife from its leather sheaf attached
to my belt.  I let her see the knife and she immediately began mewling
patheticly, afraid of what I was going to do.  The six-inch knife was razor
sharp.  I had spent many hours honing it while thinking about who my next
lucky little preteen conquest would be.  As it turned out, unlucky little
Kristin had been selected as my preteen piece of ass du jour.



   Her puffy little pussy was outlined against the fabric of her panties.
Her slit was clearly discernible.  A large wet spot had formed, no doubt
from her involuntarily peeing a bit from fear.  The scent of little girl
urine hung in the air.  It was intoxicating.  I reached back and pulled my
underwear down to my knees, freeing my cock and balls.  She squirmed at the
sight.  I then quickly pulled off my shoes, pants and underwear, freeing my
legs for maximum comfort.  I kept my socks on for the hell of it.  I
positioned myself behind her head again so that my knees bracketed both
sides of her head.  My ball sack now hung down just inches from her
disbelieving eyes.  I lowered my ass until my balls touched her face.  She
tried to turn her head, but foreseeing this, I quickly clamped her head
into a locked upright position by pressing my knees against the sides of
her head.  Whenever I talked to her, I would slightly release the pressure
of my knees against her ears so she could hear me.  I positioned my balls
so that one covered each of her eyes.  I could feel her eyelashes feebly
beat against my balls as she blinked.  My cock thrust out over the bridge
of her nose past her gagged lips and chin.  Some precum had fallen and made
a little stain on the opened collar of her dress.  Her mewling noises
increased.  It made me harder.



   I slipped the knife under the narrow band of the left leg of her panties
and gently parted the material, the elastic snapping away easily.  I did
the same to the right leg.  Now only a small patch of her panties hid her
little preteen pussy, fastened there by the stickiness of her urine patch.
She farted.  Apparently, her anus was contracting with fear as well.  The
smell of gas and urine filled my senses.  I lowered my ass still further
until her face began taking some of my weight.  My hairy asshole was
pressed against her forehead.  She began to struggle, since she was now
having difficulty breathing with my pubic hair in her nostrils.  I let up
just enough so she could breath, but began to grind my cock on her face
while rubbing my asshole on her hairline.  It tickled.  I could feel the
rough leather of the gag against the mid-section of my dick.  When I
hunched her face, the glans of my cock rubbed against her soft white chin.
My balls still covered her eyes.  I lowered my head to her little lap and
grasped the center section of her severed panties with my teeth.  With one
quick motion I yanked my head up.  Her panties came free and dangled over
my chin.  There I was on my hands and knees straddling the face of the
perfect little six- or seven-year-old preteen bitch, grinding my cock on
her delicate features, her legs pried open but still bound at the ankles,
gazing at her hairless little pussy, her white panties hanging from my
mouth as I shook them like a dog shakes a towel.  I howled while inhaling
the shit and piss fragrance of this little girl's ripped panties.  This was
as close as you can get to a pedophile's heaven on earth.



   My little preteen bitch didn't move as I celebrated my conquest.  She
was no doubt frozen with fear by my outburst.  I turned my head to the
side, opened my mouth and dropped her panties on the mattress.  I leaned
back over her, putting both arms between her legs, my elbows against the
underside of her little knees, and my hands down on the mattress.  I flexed
both elbows outward, forcing her beautifully formed little legs to open as
widely as was possible with her ankles bound.  This action forced her legs
to move upward and backward, causing her bound feet to lift off of the
mattress so that they were suspended several inches in the air.  I could
see the duct tape around her ankles flex slightly under the pressure.  With
her wrists handcuffed behind her back, her vibrant little ass was still
propped up several inches above the mattress.  Her hairless pussy now came
into full view.  The stretching of her legs had opened the outer lips so
that I could see the precious pink interior.  Her little button-like clit
was visible, nestled sweetly within the soft moist confines of the perfect
preteen hairless snatch.  I blew on her clit and was satisfied with the
grunt I got in response.  Her inner pussy lips were still closed, but
fluttered slightly.  I took my knife, which was still in my right hand, and
reached forward, placing the blade on the underside of the duct tape
binding her ankles.  A quick flick of the knife upward and her bound feet
sprang free.  Because of the pressure exerted by my elbows on her inner
thighs, her now suddenly freed legs popped open completely.  I forced her
thighs backward and downward so that now her thighs were completely
scissored open and pinned to the mattress by the bottom of my upper arms.
Her knees were flexed so that they looked like goalposts.  I straightenend
them out by grabbing each perfectly defined calf and forcing it downwards.
Both legs were now at right angles to her body, fully extended and pressed
against the mattress by my unyielding weight on her inner thighs and by my
command not to flex her knees.  She obeyed without hesitation, her little
shoes pressed against the mattress, with pieces of torn duct tape still
stuck to her ankles.  She was now as completely trapped as any little girl
can be.  She was my preteen plaything at last.  My hands were free to roam
about her pussy and ass, which had now fully rotated into view only inches
from my face.  I repositioned my ass forward so that I could continue to
hunch her face with my balls and cock while I played with the little
darling's pussy and ass.  Because she was so much shorter than me, I had to
move my knees further forward and scrunch up my lower body so that I could
hump her face unfettered.  The scent of her private parts wafted upward,
filling my nostils, causing my cock to twitch uncontrollably.  Her
breathing was becoming ragged, no doubt because I was practically
smothering her with my ass.  I positioned my asshole so that it was right
above her nose.  She would have to breathe through my ass-hairs to stay
alive.  I commanded her to quit moving around.  She ceased immediately,
succumbing to my domination.  The little bitch could breathe.  That's all
that mattered for her.



   I grabbed and kneaded both globes of her little ass, easily encompassing
both hemispheres in the small of my palms, and roughly spread her open even
further, provoking some muffled squeaks from below.  Her little asshole was
like a delicate rose that had not yet bloomed.  I was going to make it
blossom.  I dropped the knife and wet my left index finger with my mouth. I
slowly worked the tip of my finger into her asshole.  She struggled feebly
under my ass.  I ignored her.  I pushed my finger to the first joint, then
the second, then finally all of the way to the knuckle.  I rotated it about
clockwise then counterclockwise, admiring the tightness of her assring.  I
slowly pulled my finger out, feeling the resistance as her vice-like
asshole clutched at my finger.  I held my finger under my nose.  Nirvana!
There's nothing like smelling the shit of a preteen virgin ass.  I examined
my finger and saw the slightest traces of shit near the tip.  I put my
entire finger back into my mouth along with two others.  I savored the
taste for several seconds.  I hocked up a large wad of spit and slowly let
it dribble out of my mouth, letting it pool precisely on her upturned
asshole.  I then placed all three wet fingers of my left hand at the
entrance to her ass.  I compressed my fingers into a rigid probe and began
to lever her asshole open, rotating back and forth as I drilled down.  I
was rewarded with more mewling noises.  Her asshole slowly gave way under
the unrelenting pressure.  I finally broke through and my fingers punched
down all the way to my knuckles.  I heard a sharp intake of air down near
my asshole as her nose tickled my butt.  This little preteen bitch was
going to like getting her ass fucked later.  I was just getting her
stretched a little bit in advance.  I began to smoothly piston her ass,
withdrawing my fingers completely out and then thrusting them back in
again. Every time my fingers came out, her asshole would stay flared open
for a moment, blinking at its violation, making the plunge back in easier.
As I began to hammer her with my three-finger-dildo, her ass vibrated and
little wet, sucking noises filled the van.  Combined with her continual
mewling, this was music to my ears.



   By now my cock was dribbling precum all over her chin and on the front
of her dress and exposed chest.  I pulled my ass off of her face and began
humping her chin with my cock.  The precum on her chin reinforced the
sensation on my cock as I roughly stroked the smooth silkiness of her
delicate preteen face.  As I continued to hunch her face and finger-rape
her ass, I began to tongue her pussy, at first concentrating on her clit.
But as the sweet ambrosia of her cunt filled my brain, her hairless pussy
became alive to me.  It was a living, breathing, warm, wet organism
perfectly suited for making love to my face.  I was meant to breathe the
aroma of preteen pussy and plunge my tongue into the inner sanctum of the
little girl's most intimate part.  It was an elixir that one could suck
down, down, down until a place was reached where it was not possible to
experience a purer joy.  I pressed my face into her cunt until my nose was
completely buried within its folds, my tongue delving into her preteen
depths..  I continued to dry-hump her face faster and faster while plumbing
her ass with my fingers.  I could feel the beginnings of an orgasm.  I
stretched her legs even further, not caring if it was causing pain.  I just
had to completely bury my face in her hairless pussy.  The entire van was
shaking as I face-fucked this little girl.  I could hear her muffled cries
get louder as I ramrodded her ass with three fingers.  Suddenly I felt and
tasted a stream of hot piss as her muscles completely abandoned her brain.
She was definitely panicking as her head struggled against the vice formed
by my knees.  I sucked down her piss as it flowed.  It filled my nostrils
and dribbled out of my mouth.  It was the sweetest of champagnes.  I had
just decanted a beautiful preteen pussy that was no older than a seven-year
vintage.



   I reached down with my right hand and began to jack myself off,
positioning my asshole back over her nose.  I began to cum.  A wave of
pleasure built up in the base of my dick and radiated outward.  The first
geyser of jizz landed on the front of her blue dress.  I immediately
stopped finger-raping her and pulled my face off of her pussy, while at the
same time rocking back on the balls of my feet so that her face was now
revealed, no longer covered by my ass.  I continued to jack off, aiming the
second shot at her gagged little face only inches from my cock.  Her eyes
were wide open but unseeing as the second shot splashed across her cheek
and nose.  I wanted to nail her eyes and I could hardly miss from this
short distance.  The unerring third shot found her left eye, the fourth her
right one.  Now both eyes were closed and pooling with cum.  I continued to
paint her face.  She didn't even try to move her head.  I squeezed the last
few drops of cum onto her nose, watching with satisfaction as her
nostril-breath blew bubbles through the sticky fluid.  I reached over and
grabbed the knife.  Inserting it under the gag, I quickly severed it,
pulling it away from her face.  I yanked the ball of wet dirty underwear
from her mouth.  Her face was red where the gag had been, contrasting
sharply with the cum on the rest of her face.  Her beautiful blond hair was
matted with cum and sweat from my balls.  She was the most beautiful thing
I had ever seen.  I could see her eyelids flutter under the weight of the
cum deposited on her eye sockets.  My splooge had completely gummed her
eyes up.  I told her to open her mouth all of the way.  She either didn't
hear me or acted like she didn't.  So I pried her mouth open with my
fingers.  I scooted forward and thrust the first couple of inches of my
cock through her sweet lips into the inner recesses of her liquid preteen
mouth.  She gagged for a moment, but started breathing through her nose
again.  I told her to suck on it and lick it clean like a good little girl.
This time she heard me and responded.  I watched her quivering lips create
a seal and her cheeks hollow as I felt a wet suction form on my cock.  She
was trying gamely but had a lot to learn.  I told her to move her tongue
around.  I could feel it make tentative swirls around the head of my dick.
Her legs were still splayed wide open, not having moved since I had pinned
them down, as she mindlessly sucked on my dick, her beautiful preteen face
now enhanced by a sweet coating of drying cum.  I let her suck my cock for
a while, sometimes pulling it out and softly slapping and rubbing her
cum-covered face with it.  After I was soft I disengaged my cock from her
mouth, a soft popping noise escaping her lips as she hung onto it for dear
life.  She must have concluded that her safety depended upon obeying my
orders.  I then absentmindedly wiped up fingers full of cum from her face
and fed them to her.  In her bewildered state she accepted it without
reservation, like a baby bird takes the worm.  I watched her throat bob as
my cum slithered down into her stomach.  I leaned over and whispered into
her right ear that she was a great piece of preteen ass and that this was
just the beginning of a lot of fun together.  I saw goosebumps rise on her
upper arms as she realized that this wasn't going to be over anytime soon.
I opened her mouth again with my fingers by applying pressure to her jaws.
Her mouth opened without resistance.  I then tilted my head to the side and
placed my own mouth over hers and gave her a long french kiss.  I fenced
with her tongue as it sought refuge from mine, but I could easily find it
and toy with it before it went hiding again.  Her breath smelled like a
mixture of dirty underwear and cum.  I started to get hard again.  I tried
to resist the temptation to fuck her right there.  I took several more
pictures of the conquered, cum-covered little slut.  I needed to get her in
the cabin so we could start the real fun and games.

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

   Preteen Bound, ch.  2



   I pulled a washcloth from the compartment and wiped up the rest of my
cum from her little seven-year-old face, leaving behind a flaking
transparent residue.  The second-grader's eyelashes were stuck together
from the cum I had shot there just moments before.  With a cloth-wrapped
finger I probed her nostrils and ears, removing all traces of cum.  She was
looking at me but didn't appear to see me, her little blue eyes glazed
over, lost somewhere in the middle distance.  Her breathing was shallow and
I could see her little flat chest moving up and down with the effort.  I
was still on my knees, bracketing her head from behind.  She laid perfectly
still on her back, her bare little legs completely open and extended at
right angles to her body, her wrists handcuffed underneath her, elevating
her bare hairless pussy several inches into the air.  Her little blue
calico dress was torn and pushed up around her waist.  Several buttons down
the front were undone where I had sought access to her tiny nipples.  I
grabbed a handful of her angelic cum-clotted golden hair and twisted my
fingers in it, enjoying the softness and fine texture.  As I played with
her hair, sometimes jerking her head several inches from the mattress and
then watching it bounce when I let her hair go, I smiled with the knowledge
that this kidnapped little girl-child was now my own very special preteen
fuck-toy to do with as I pleased.  I could fuck her any way I wanted to,
any time I wanted to, and there wasn't a damn thing anyone could do about
it.



   The cloying stench of urine and the sweet smell of cum mingled in the
air, intoxicating my senses.  I had planned to take her into the cabin
after the rough masturbation session just completed, but I began to think
that I couldn't wait that long to fuck her ass.  I really needed to get my
cock inside this little preteen bitch, to explore her wet, tight interior.
The thought of what I was going to do to her made me start to harden again.
My cock began to rise like a cobra from a basket, swaying in time to my
erotic thoughts.  Only inches from her face, my cock swelled in
anticipation.  Her eyes picked up the movement and followed my bobbing cock
as it hovered over her face.  I told her to stick her tongue out and hold
it there.  Her little pink tongue slipped out tentatively, visibly
trembling, fear etched into her face.  I moved my hips so that the glans of
my cock bounced up and down on the tip of her tongue, sending little waves
of pleasure to my head.  I reached out and tweaked her right nipple, hard
enough to elicit a body spasm.  Her little pussy was puffy and red from the
furious licking I had given it.  I grabbed my camera and took some pictures
of this incredibly erotic sight.  She blinked her eyes after every flash.



   I grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her up to a sitting position,
her back to me.  I picked up my knife and carefully ripped the back of her
dress from the frilly white collar to her bunched waistline, carefully
working around her handcuffed wrists.  Her dress was now open in the front
and back; only the short sleeves kept the dress from falling from her
shoulders.  She was hunched over, her flaxen wavy hair cascading around the
soft white skin of her small shoulders and back.  I leaned forward and
pulled strands of hair away from her right ear, placing my lips at her tiny
succulent earlobe.  I whispered to her, "Kristin, I want you to always call
me 'Master'.  You must say it or I will hurt you.  Okay?".  She slowly
nodded.  "Okay," I whispered, "I also want you to tell me that you want me
to fuck you in your little ass, and say it like you mean it.  I want you to
beg me to fuck you in your little ass right now." She was quiet for a
moment, and then her tiny sweet young quavering voice hesitantly uttered
the words I was dying to hear: "Please, master, fu..fu..fuck me in my
little a.a.a..ass." My cock lurched at the words, brushing the small of her
back, caressing the ridge of her spine.  My precum traced a slick spot
across her alabaster skin.  Goosebumps, induced by terror no doubt,
appeared on her back, heightening the erotic view.  "Keep saying it", I
commanded.  Haltingly, in a quiet, sing-song way, she began repeating over
and over "F..f..uck me in my little ass, master, p..please, please,
f..f..fuck me in my little ass." I reached around and gave her a hard slap
across the face.  "Say it like you mean it or I'm really going to hurt
you." Stung, tears rushed to her eyes, but she gamely went on, raising her
voice a couple of degrees as she kept begging me to fuck her in her little
ass.



   I reached over and turned on my digital tape recorder resting on a
compartment shelf.  I could post a 'wav' file of this session later on the
internet.  I know pedos who would kill for the sounds she was going to
make. This little preteener was begging me to fuck her in the ass.  Her
tremulous little girl's voice, coupled with the import of her words, just
about made me cum right there.  Her legs were still pointing straight out
at right angles from her body, the classic split position.  "Good girl," I
said, "Keep saying it, honey." As she repeated the phrase, I grabbed her
neck and forced her forward until her face and shoulders touched the
mattress, her words temporarily muffled.  I turned her head to the right so
I could see her profile, pressing the left side of her face to the
mattress. She breathed out of the right side of her mouth while still
repeating "Please f..f.f.uck me in my little ass, master..." I moved some
straggling blond hair away from her cheek where it had stuck to my drying
cum.  When I had pushed her forward, her little ass had risen up like the
moon, the beautiful small white hemispheres framed by her torn blue calico
dress bunched around her waist.  Her butt crack was damp and dark, its
mysterious wonders about to be revealed and plumbed.  I grabbed a small
pillow from the compartment and while raising her up with one hand, slid
the pillow under her stomach with the other.  Her beautiful tiny ass was
now propped up a foot above the mattress, completely vulnerable and laid
open to view.  Her little legs were still extended in the split position.
Her small handcuffed hands were pinned above her ass, resting on the fabric
of her bunched-up, shredded dress.



   I took another picture as she continued to murmur the words "P..please
fuck me in my little ass, master...".  Since she was so persistent, I
thought it would be best if I did indeed fuck her in her little ass. 
Putting the camera aside, I bent over her from behind, placing my left hand
between her exposed shoulder blades where I had ripped the fabric.  I
pressed her chest firmly into the mattress, forcing her ass to arch even
more until it was at the exact height of my rigid, weaving cock.  Her
erotic words were now muffled by the pressure I was exerting on her back,
the intonation much deeper than before.  Keeping my left hand on her little
back, I bent my head over until my face was just a few inches from her butt
crack.  Her little rosebud assring was still slightly dilated from the
fresh finger-fucking she had received.  It winked at me as I blew on it.  I
could detect the faintest whiff of shit from her violated hole.  With my
right hand I inserted my index finger into her warm, still wet ass,
drilling all the way down to the last knuckle, her ass tunnel giving way
like soft butter.  Her little butt gave a start at the invasion, and she
paused in her ass-fucking mantra long enough to grunt.  Her tiny ass was so
tight, it was like inserting my finger into a incredibly hot, wet and tight
chinese finger puzzle, if such a thing exists.  The finger goes in easily,
but the little buttring grips with a vengeance when you try to pull it out.
It was as though her preteen asshole wanted my finger to stay within its
wet velvety vice-like chamber.  I told her to keep saying the words as I
worked my finger around, widening her elastic asshole with a circular
levered motion.  The only sounds that could be heard were her muffled words
to fuck her in the ass, the occasional girlish grunt if I pressed hard, the
soft squishy sound of my finger delving into her preteen asshole, and the
soft squeak of the van's springs marking time to the intense
finger-fucking, as I increased the rhythm and exerted more pressure.



   I slowly withdrew my finger from her ass, generating a soft sucking
noise as my finger came clear, a sound that blended nicely with a sigh of
relief from Kristin.  The relief would be short-lived.  I hocked up a
mouthful of spit, bent my face over her tiny preteen ass, and let it
dribble from my pursed lips onto the top of her ass crack, where it slowly
trickled down to her upraised asshole, pooling there--some slowly draining
down into the well of her bubbling, sucking butthole--before spilling down
to her tender hairless pussy lips.  More goosebumps appeared on her tiny
ass as her body shuddered for several seconds.  She was primed if not
exactly ready for what was to come next.  She gave a little scream when I
smacked her little right asscheek with my open palm.  I told her no one was
going to hear her, so she could scream all she wanted, but she better keep
begging me to fuck her little ass.  I then raised up and shuffled forward
on my knees until my cock was just inches from her beckoning asshole.  My
seven-inch cock was as hard as a hickory stick, itching to get inside, like
a racehorse at the gate waiting for the starting gun.  Kristin was still
faintly mumbling the erotic words, now shortened to just "fuck my ass".



   I reached over her back with my right hand and slipped the slickened
finger that had been in her preteen asshole into her mouth.  I told her to
suck it clean.  Without hesitation, she began nursing my finger like a
little baby, her tongue swirling, licking off the layer of shit and spit
like it was a tootsie pop.  I told her to moan while she sucked.  She
complied, the new sound of her little girl moans now causing my cock to
jerk like a puppet on a string.  Keeping my finger in her tight wet warm
mouth, I moved my hips forward until the tip of my cock pressed against her
little ass opening, unerringly finding it like a badger finds its hole in
the dark.  Pressing my hips further, my cock began to augur into the deep
wonders of her ass.  Her assring flanged wide against the irresistible
pressure, giving way to the merciless cock intruder.  She stopped sucking
on my finger for a moment as her breath caught at the incipient invasion of
her butthole.  Her lips, pressed against the mattress, slackened from
around my fingers and drool spilled out, leaving a wet spot on the
mattress. A low guttural noise came from her chest as her ass tunnel slowly
gave way to my cock's assault.  Her eyes were shut hard as her body
registered the violation of her virgin ass.  Her head trembled with the
effort to maintain composure.  I marveled at the sight of her little
asshole spreading wider as I continued moving my hips slowly forward.  I
commanded her to start sucking again, this time inserting three fingers
deep into her throat, causing her to gag momentarily.  My fingers
completely filled her mouth as her lips tried to form a seal.  I played
with her slimy tongue while I continued to drive relentlessly into her tiny
preteen ass.  My cock felt like it was entering into an excruciatingly warm
wet vice, the tunnel expanding against incredible pressure.  My cockhead
passed through the resistance of her obscenely stretched rectum.  Suddenly
freed from the pressure of her assring, my cockhead plunged forward, the
shaft quickly following until I had completely reamed her all of the way to
the base of my cock.  The pleasure was indescribable.  Every nerve in my
cock was singing as I looked down to see the small hemispheres of her
snow-white ass kneading at my pubic hair.  Her ass looked so small with my
cock buried in it, that I almost came in her bowels right there.  Kristin
had begun whimpering, on the verge of crying openly.  She was as skewered
as a rabbit on a spit.  I held my position for several moments, admiring
her little preteen ass with my huge cock sheathed within.



   I pulled my fingers from her mouth and placed both hands on either side
of her hips.  Her waist was so small that I could touch my fingers across
her pelvis as I gripped her hips.  I slowly withdrew my shit- and
blood-stained cock until the head had completely come out; a soft popping
noise could be distinctly heard as air rushed to fill the vacuum in her ass
that my cock had left behind.  Her reddened asshole remained partially
open, as if to invite my cock to return.  And return it did, with a
vengeance.  Kristin cried out and gave a long pain-filled moan as my cock
plunged back into its new-found home, again traveling very quickly to the
base.  This time the resistance was not as great.  While still incredibly
tight, my cock's new preteen home was becoming more accommodating.



   I placed my left hand on the small of her back, pressing down, while
gripping her right hip tightly with my other hand.  I began to seesaw my
cock in her asshole, alternating with circular motions, admiring the
flexibility and wet rubberiness of her pierced butthole.  Kristin continued
whimpering and crying out, making loud gasping noises whenever I
corkscrewed her ass by twisting my hips.  With the left side of her face
pressed against the mattress, her mouth was now completely open and slack
as if caught in a silent scream.  She was breathing so fast that she
snorted with the effort.  Her tongue lolled involuntarily out onto the
mattress, a pink little shell-less snail that seemly oddly detached.  Her
little head and shoulders jerked back and forth against the mattress, her
eyes open but unseeing, while smacking sounds filled the van as I began
long deep punishing strokes into her tiny preteen ass.



   I grabbed the chain between her handcuffed wrists and pulled up, easily
lifting her small arms from her back.  The pressure on her arms and wrists
caused her head and shoulders to lift from the mattress, her head suspended
several inches above the mattress, hanging resignedly, as I continued to
ram her ass with swiftening strokes.  Her long cum-matted blond hair hung
down, partially screening her red, perspiring face.  Small strings of
drool, pulled slowly down by gravity, hung from her open mouth.  Her
resilient little ass was definitely loosening up as I continued the
relentless pounding.  I let go of the handcuffs and she plopped face-first
onto the mattress, emitting a grunt that sent a tingle up my spine.  I
continued to raise her and drop her in this manner as I reamed her sweet
little preteen asshole out, enjoying the little grunting noises my little
ragdoll was making every time I dropped her face onto the mattress.



   Deciding that another position would be interesting, I removed the
pillow and then grabbed both of her thighs and pulled them back from the
split position.  I extended her legs back without releasing my cock from
her sweet tiny ass depths, until her legs were fully extended behind her
and pressed together, so that now she lay in a normal position on her
stomach.  I straddled her small upper thighs, with a knee on either side,
my cock still fully buried in her luxurious little ass.  I stretched out so
that I lay directly on top of her.  She was so small that she disappeared
under my body, her head barely coming to the bottom of my chest.  Her
handcuffed hands pressed against my lower stomach.  I recommenced pounding
her ass, and was rewarded with muffled cries emerging from under my
midsection.  Her blond hair was sticking to my sweaty stomach.  I reached
underneath her with both hands, finding her little nipples.  I pinched them
hard as I rode her butt.  She struggled underneath me, sending pleasure
rippling to my brain as her ass twisted vainly under the tremendous
butt-fucking she was taking.  I crushed her little ass with my hammering
hips, forcing my cock deep into her guts.



   I could feel the beginnings of an orgasm, so I drove even deeper,
eliciting louder grunting noises from somewhere underneath me.  I continued
to pinch her nipples and drive my cock even harder into her beautiful
little preteen ass.  Suddenly my cum began to travel up from my balls and
into my cock.  The pleasure was overwhelming.  I drove my cock even deeper,
feeling the cleft of her small ass against the base of my cock, wriggling
my hips until every single millimeter of my cock was embedded within her
hot little asshole.  My cum began to erupt volcanicly deep within her
bowels, each shot causing her to jerk her ragdoll head against my lower
ribcage.  It seemed like an eternity as my cum continued to splash deep
within her.  I didn't move at all as her little asshole muscles
involuntarily milked me dry.  She quit moving and became quiet as the last
drops of my cum filled her guts, only her tortured breathing filling the
sudden silence in the van.



   After several minutes of just lying there, basking in the good fortune
that had been bestowed upon me, lingering in the pleasure of this preteen's
sweet ass, and occasionally stirring my softening dick in her hot cum-pot,
I finally rolled off and gazed at my anally raped little preteen Kristin.
She just lay there on her stomach, her face pressed into the mattress, her
golden hair completely disheveled and matted, her torn limp dress rumpled
about her.  I watched transfixed as a river of cum slowly bubbled and oozed
out of her asshole like white molasses, flecked with shit and blood, and
dribbled down through her hairless slit and onto the mattress, where it was
slowly being absorbed, forming a large stain.  Her wrists were still cuffed
behind her.  I rolled her on her side and checked her breathing.  She was
okay, just passed out, as her sweet cum breath wafted upward.  She was
definitely a good little ass fuck, maybe the best I ever had.  I could
expect many more such pleasures in the days ahead.  I took a few more
pictures of her and stopped the tape recorder.  Now it really was time to
get her into the cabin.

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



   Preteen Bound, ch.3



   I awoke at dawn with a raging hard-on.  I lay comfortably on the
mattress that I had dragged in from the van.  The floor of this old
abandoned cabin was hard and rough, so the mattress was very useful. 
Sleeping in the cabin was preferable to sleeping in the van, since it gave
me more room to play with my little preteen fuck-toy Kristin.  I reached
under the blanket and began slowly stroking my sore cock as I peered in the
dim light looking for Kristin's tiny form in the corner, where I knew she
was lying on the floor, bound and gagged, with a long heavy chain clamped
to her right ankle, the other end securely fastened to the wall.  It had
been five days since I had taken her from the park.  It must have seemed
much longer to my little six-year old captive (she had told me that she was
six, not seven as I had guessed), who had been the object of my lust the
entire time, interrupted only by eating and sleeping.  I had fucked her
little pussy, ass and mouth countless times, to the point where she had
become an unthinking, worked-over, little cum-bag slut whose sole purpose
in life was to service my cock.  But that wasn't the worst of it for her. I
had buried her torn dress as well as all other articles of clothing that
she had worn when I had kidnapped her.  She was now forced to wear a
tight-fitting black leather outfit that I had specially ordered through an
underground bondage catalogue for children, just prior to the kidnapping.
The black leather clothing was the perfect size, snuggly encasing her
entire body from neck to ankle, except where the designer had left
removable openings at the crotch, ass and nipples.  From the same catalogue
I had also purchased a black leather hood that fit her head perfectly,
revealing only her eyes, nose, mouth and ears.  The hood had a detachable
top that I had removed so that her hair spilled out like a golden haystack.
The hood came with a drawstring at its base that I had tightened around her
neck.  She had been forced to continually wear this clothing day and night.
She even pissed and shit with it on.



   She really was quite the sight as more light poured through the broken
window.  She lay curled up in a ball on the floor, her ankles and wrists
bound together with a short piece of rope.  Even from several feet away, I
could hear her breathing through her nose, as her golden cum-matted hair
spilled down around her black leather-clad shoulders.  Her little upturned
white nose rose from the black base of her leather-enclosed face, while her
reddened, chapped lips made a nice contrast with the large blue ball gag
that stretched her jaws.  She was still sleeping, although she jerked her
head feebly every once in a while.  She was having pleasant dreams, no
doubt.



   I had a surprise for her today, though.  We were going to pack up the
van and head for my house, which was located in an adjoining state.  When I
had kidnapped her, I couldn't take the risk of staying on the road until I
got to my house, which had been much further away than this old broken-down
cabin.  Now that the search for her had died down a bit (at least according
to reports I was getting on my short-wave radio), I could make the trip to
my house with a lot less risk.  The cabin had served its purpose, but I was
tiring of the whole scene.  The litter of empty cans, food wrappers, and
water bottles was depressing.  Even the little preteen bitch I was
continously fucking was starting to get on my nerves.  I thought back to
other times, other little girls, as I continued to stroke my cock, letting
my six-year old sex slave continue to sleep.  She would need the rest for
what she would have to do later.



   I fondly recalled little Becky's pert preteen ass--the wonderful way
that it rose and fell as I fucked her little pussy while driving down the
highway in my van, shortly after I had abducted her from her front yard. 
She had only been five years old as I later learned through news reports.
My heavily tinted windows kept others from seeing us as she struggled in my
lap, taking my seven-inch cock fully into her little body.  The moment I
got her in the back of the van after swooping down on her while she was
playing by herself in her yard, I had blindfolded her, gagged her, and tied
her little hands behind her back, all within a matter of seconds.  I asked
her what her name was before I tied the gag around her head, threatening to
hit her if she didn't tell me.  "Becky", she had said, her little girl
voice barely audible as tears streamed down from under the blindfold. 
After tugging off her shorts and literally ripping her flowery panties from
her body, I then jumped into the driver' seat, unzipped my pants with my
left hand and shrugged them down, as I subdued my little Becky, who was
trapped in the vice of my right arm.  (I wasn't wearing any underwear,
knowing that it would only slow down the rape action.) I drove off slowly
so as not arouse suspicion.



   I had forced her to sit on my lap, her back to me, her securely tied
little hands pressed against my stomach, her now completely bare little
legs on either side of my bare thighs, my cock standing at attention
between her legs, looking for all of the world as if it belonged to her
instead of me.  I reached down over her little right shoulder with my right
arm and snaked my hand down through the neck of her blue tee-shirt past her
chest and stomach (but not before twisting her little nipples first), where
my fingers then found her puffy hairless slit.  With a tube of KY jelly
handy in the ashtray, I quickly spread her vulva and massaged her little
pussy lips with gobs of KY, getting one, then two fingers into her as the
little bitch squirmed in her bindings and squealed behind her gag.  I
steered with my left hand as I pressed her back against my chest with my
right forearm.  She kept struggling, but bound and gagged she was no match
for my strength, even while I was driving.  At a red light I had time using
my right hand to position my cock at her pussy entrance after spreading KY
on the head and shaft of my dick.  I then took her little left ear into my
mouth and sucked on it, whispering to her that she was to hold her little
slut body still, while down below I maneuvered my cock into position.  I
smiled as I remembered brushing her brown hair with my nose, inhaling the
little girl's fragrance of shampoo and sweat, as I felt my cockhead find
the notch at the entrance to her little pussy tunnel.  In one motion I
thrust up violently while pressing her down hard with my right forearm
extended across her chest, my right hand firmly on her left shoulder.  Her
little pussy caved-in completely as my greased cock shot its way past her
hymen and all of the way to her cervix.  She screamed through the gag.  No
one outside the van could hear her.  I had been so intent on getting my
cock into her that I hadn't noticed the light change, so I stopped fucking
her long enough to get the van going again.



   A few moments later we were moving along a highway at sixty miles an
hour under cruise control as I put my right hand under her left armpit and
lifted her up while withdrawing my cock nearly all of the way underneath. I
would then slam back into her, lifting my ass completely off of the seat,
using my legs for leverage, while pressing down from above with my right
arm.  We rode like this for several minutes, her limp body bucking around
like a doll as I drove my cock into her guts.  I was having a hard time
driving straight, so I pulled off onto the shoulder of the highway.  I
needed to cum badly and couldn't take the chance while driving.  I pressed
her chest against the steering wheel with my now freed left hand, while I
pulled her tee-shirt up her back with my right.  I marveled at the sight of
my cock as it rammed her stretched little pussy, her little white asscheeks
jiggling with the force of my thrusts as her little hips perched on my
cock. She was no longer making any noise or putting up any resistance as
she bounced around, her doll head occasionally bumping off of the steering
wheel, her bound hands jostling behind her back.  I took both hands off her
back and rested them on her little waist, keeping her from falling over as
I reclined the seat a bit.  I was enjoying the sight of her crumpled,
nearly naked body--except for the tee-shirt pulled up around her shoulders
and her little tennis shoes--as she danced like a puppet under the
repetitive upthrust of my hips.  Suddenly, my cum boiled up through my
balls and cockshaft, erupting within her like some huge geyser.  The
feeling was indescribable as she rode my bouncing cock, cum and blood
spewing out from her overfilled preteen pussy and into my lap.  She
appeared to be unconcious as I finished up.  I removed the blindfold and
the gag.  Her eyelids were partially closed, only the whites of her eyes
visible.  I pushed her off of me, rolling her body over onto the passenger
seat.  I pulled up my pants, started up the van and drove to a large park I
knew about a mile or so away.  I stopped on a barren access road, not far
from a well-traveled road.  I pulled her from the van and sat her on the
side of the road.  She was coming around.  I untied her hands from behind
her back as she sat in the weeds, some more cum oozing out onto the ground.
All of twenty minutes had elapsed from the moment I had grabbed her until
now.  I told her not to say anything to anyone, or I would be back to visit
her one day.  She stared at me as I got back into my van and drove off.  I
later read that she was found soon after I had dropped her off there.  I
also read that she couldn't remember a damn thing about me or my van.



   Now as I sat in the cabin stroking my cock, thinking about that little
adventure, others starting coming to mind.  Kristin was stirring.  I yelled
over to her get her little bitch ass up and come over and service me.  She
was now fully used to this kind of treatment, and knowing what the
alternative was, she responded immediately.  With hands and ankles still
bound together, she inched her way over to the mattress by snaking her body
along the floor.  The chain clamped to her right ankle and anchored to the
wall was long enough for her to get onto my mattress.  I threw the blanket
off and propped my back up against the wall using a couple of pillows.  I
spread my legs wide.  She kept snaking her way over the six foot distance
to the mattress, her eyes avoiding mine, staring intently at her goal: my
rising cock.  The heavy chain dragged along behind her, the only sound
heard apart from her slithering motions along the floor and her labored
breathing through her nose.  She worked her way onto the foot of the
mattress, moving up between my spread legs, her black leather-clad body and
head making her look like some kind of demonic serpent.  When her head got
within a foot of my cock, I reached down and removed the ball gag by
unbuckling the strap at the back of her hood.  Her jaws slowly closed as
she moaned at the pain of release.  Her golden hair hung like a curtain
over her forehead, partially obscuring her face.  I reached out and brushed
her hair to the side.  "Did you miss my cock." I asked.  She nodded her
head yes, while her unblinking blue eyes focused on my groin, her chin
moving up and down, left and right, as she exercised her lower jaw.  She
was lying on her side, nestled between my legs, her knees up to her chest
because of the way her ankles and wrists were bound together.  Her head was
bent back so she could get a good view of my balls and cock suspended just
inches above her face.  The mouth opening in the hood was big enough so
that her full luscious preteen lips were fully revealed as she parted them.
Her mouth hung open in anticipation, her pink tongue primed to lick.



   "Before you get my cock and balls for breakfast, you have a cleaning
chore to perform first, you little fucking whore." I said roughly.  She
looked up at me for the first time, her blue eyes unsure of what I was
talking about.  I grabbed my knees with my hands and pulled my legs up and
back, revealing my hairy ass to her face.  "Lick my ass like a good little
girl." I commanded.  "Yes, master," she murmured as her eyes immediately
focused on her new target as she snaked closer, until I could feel her
breath stirring the hair on the upper part of my inner thighs.  She'd been
through this drill before.  Her little pink tongue emerged as she began to
lave the hair near the base of my ass.  "Come on," I said, "you can do
better than that." She scooted up further until her hooded head was partly
eclipsed from view by my asscheeks.  I could feel her little wet tongue
worm its way through the dense hair around my asshole as it sought its
destination.  And then she was there, lapping away at my exposed asshole
like it was some kind of candy treat.  I put a small pillow under my ass so
that she could get better access, dropping my legs to either side of her
tied-up preteen body.  She now had her face fully embedded in my ass cleft,
working her tongue clumsily around and into my asshole.  What she lacked in
expertise she made up with vigor.  She had learned a lot in five days, most
importantly that she must do exactly as I commanded or face the painful
consequences.  I grabbed my cock and started stroking it again, thinking
about other little girl adventures I had had.



   Take Megan.  A nicer piece of preteen ass you'll never find.  I ran
across her while I was on one of my little forays in another town far from
home, searching for some preteen sweetmeat.  I was staying in a little
fleabag motel near the city limits, where I knew I would attract less
attention from the local constabulary.  I leisurely parked near the
elementary school every morning before school started and every afternoon
after school let out.  My van went unnoticed since it looked like some kind
of delivery vehicle and no one could see me behind the tinted windows.  I
was looking for a pretty little girl around the age of six or seven, one
who walked to and from school alone.  I spotted Megan the first day and
kept my eye on her.  She was such a pretty little thing with blond pigtails
bobbing behind a beautiful little face.  She had twinkly green eyes, a
gorgeous smile, and eminently fuckable lips.  I watched her talk to friends
as she arrived in the schoolyard.  She had a habit of standing on her left
leg, while placing the tip of her right shoe behind her left heel.  It was
so damn sexy watching those well-defined little calves flex as she balanced
herself in this awkward way, her mid-thigh dress revealing her sexy knees
and lower thighs.  She entered the building near the first grade rooms, so
I guessed her age to be six.  I knew I had to have here soon.



   The next day I checked out of the motel early, paying cash under my
false name, then parking on a side street along the path she took to
school. This area was the best place to snatch her along her route because
there was very little pedestrian or vehicular traffic.  After waiting for
thirty minutes, I finally saw her approaching through the driver's side
mirror as she walked along the sidewalk.  She wore a short red and white
dress, pigtails bobbing.  No one was around but her and me.  The sidewalk
was maybe five feet from my van.  Just as she pulled level with my door, I
opened it quickly and jumped out, snagging her before she even knew what
was happening.  I put my hand over her mouth to squelch any screaming.  I
quickly bundled her kicking little body into the van through the door that
I had just emerged from, closing it behind me.  The whole thing took maybe
three or four seconds.  I grabbed a prepared chloroform-saturated
handkerchief from the passenger seat and applied it to her mouth and nose
with my right hand as I held her struggling body in my lap with my left
arm. In ten seconds she was limp, her head sagging on my chest.  This
perfect little preteen treasure was now all mine, at least for a little
while.  Her disheveled dress had ridden up her thighs in the struggle, the
sight causing my cock to jerk in my pants.  I then almost shit myself as I
noticed her bookbag on the sidewalk where it had fallen when I grabbed her.
I pushed her into the back of the van, where she lay crumpled on the
mattress.  Looking around, I jumped out and retrieved the bookbag.  I drove
off quickly.  I removed one of her notebooks from the bag and saw the name
'Megan O.' written into the lining.  Big letters printed with careful
little girl strokes.  Megan--nice name for a preteen piece of ass, I
thought.



   I got my precious little cargo out of Dodge pronto.  I knew I didn't
have much time, maybe an hour max before the alarm would go out.  I needed
at least a half hour head start to evade any pursuit after I let her go, so
that meant I had only a half hour with her.  I had already used up five
minutes just getting out to this dirt road a mile or so from the town. 
Twenty-five minutes, then, at most.  Not much, but, as it turned out,
enough to make the the risk worthwhile.



   I left the road and drove across a wheat field, parking the van in a
copse of trees set a hundred yards from the road, a place that I had
scouted out in advance.  The van couldn't be seen from any vehicle driving
by and there was nothing but wheat fields in every direction.  I leapt into
the back of the van, leaving the partition open so that I would have enough
light to see what I was doing.  Megan was moaning and beginning to move her
head and arms.  The drug was wearing off.  I poured some more chloroform
into the handkerchief and covered her mouth and nose with it.  She quit
moving five seconds later.  She was lying on her back, her legs splayed
obscenely open where she had fallen on the mattress.  I looked at my watch.
Twenty minutes left before I would have to leave.  Damn, I had to hurry.



   I pulled a knife from the compartment inset on the van wall and gently
but quickly slashed the front of her red and white dress open from the top
of her frilly collar to the bottom of her hem, the cloth parting easily
like the skin of a filleted fish.  I pulled the material back to reveal the
perfect panty-clad preteen body, flat-chested with hardly any baby fat, and
nicely tanned to boot, her bikini-top tan-line clearly visible since she
wore no bra.  Her tiny nipples, nearly invisible, were begging to be
sucked, but I didn't have time to do everything.  I quickly slashed the
short-sleeves in the same way and rolled her out of the dress and onto her
stomach.  She was now completely naked except for her heart-embroidered
white silky panties that had wedged into the crack of her ass during the
struggle, her little white anklets, and her matching red shoes with white
laces.  I cut her panties off in a flash, briefly sniffing the panty bottom
for her little girl pussy scent.  It was strong and went right to my head.
I left her shoes and socks on.  I looked at my watch.  Two minutes had gone
by...time to get fucking.



   I put a little pillow under her stomach, propping her little white ass
into the air.  She was facedown in the mattress oblivious to her condition,
her arms extended beyond her head.  Her long golden pigtails stuck out, the
rubberbands tight near the roots, revealing some scalp beneath.  I pulled a
bottle of vegetable oil from the compartment and poured a huge amount all
over her little preteen ass and back, letting it run down her asscrack to
her hairless pussy lips where it then dripped down and pooled on the
mattress.  I kneaded her little asscheeks, letting my fingers and palms
slide through the thick slickness of her well-oiled, unblemished preteen
ass.  I slid the oil-slickened middle finger of my right hand into her
asshole, relishing how easily it was drawn all of the way in, no barrier at
all to admission.  Soon I had three fingers going.  She 'humphed' through
her mouth into the mattress as I finger-fucked her six-year old ass, her
little body jiggling under the assault of my fingers.  I unloosened my belt
buckle, unzipped and dropped my pants (no underwear again) and poured the
remaining oil onto my engorged cock, all seven inches straining to get
inside of her.  I stroked my cock with my oily right hand, getting the oil
worked into the entire surface area of my cockhead and shaft.  Satisfied, I
shinnied on my knees up to her ass, directing my cockhead to the entrance
of her well-lubed preteen asshole that was still spasming from the finger
fucking I had given it.  I bent over, placing my hands on her little
shoulders to pin her in position.  I extended two fingers of each hand,
winding them around the pigtails hanging down on either side of her head
and pulled her limp head back toward me, her neck now craning absurdly
backward, her lower jaw slack, her mouth hanging completely open, eyes
closed.  She was now in position for a good asshole cock-reaming.



   With my cock poised at her asshole, I dropped my full bodyweight onto
her little ass, my cock instantly filling her ass tunnel, gliding all of
the way to the hilt in a fraction of a second, the pillow under her stomach
collapsing under our combined weight.  I looked at my watch as I ground my
hips into her little ass, feeling my dick stir around deep within her guts
as my oily pubic hair lightly sandpapered her asscheeks pink.  Only fifteen
minutes left.  They were the best fifteen minutes of my life, as I fucked
the hell out of the little slut.  Her dark tan contrasted nicely with her
little ivory-snow ass.  I pushed her whole body around the van as I
butt-fucked the hell out of her, the little globes of her ass sticky with
oil and sweat from my persistent pounding.  I yanked on her pigtails as I
steered her around the mattress, jerking her lolling head backwards as she
got the reaming that she so well-deserved.  I drove her head and shoulders
into a corner of the van, enabling me to hunch her tiny ass unchecked as
her little legs stuck out from under my pile-driving hips.  God this was
fun.  It was all I could do to keep from coming during those fifteen
minutes.  I remember stopping whenever I felt an orgasm imminent, waiting
for it to subside.  I wanted to get the full time allotted for this preteen
fuck ride.



   Finally my watch indicated the fun would have to end.  Working myself
into a lather, I was literally bouncing off her butt as I drove to a
climax, putting my hands around her little waist to better lift her ass
into my driving cock.  Just then she started to awaken, which heightened
the overall erotic sensation.  I forced her face into the mattress so that
she couldn't see me as she began vainly struggling against the assault on
her asshole.  Cum erupted in torrents, spraying throughout her insides.  I
pulled out and painted her ass with my hot cum, marveling as I directed its
spray onto her tanned back as well, watching the cum slowly blend in with
the sweat and oil that had preceded it.  I grabbed her right pigtail,
pulling her face around, covering her eyes with my left hand as with my
right I shoved my dripping cock into the pink wet interior of her open
mouth.  I drove it half-way in, feeling the back of her throat stop the
forward movement.  She gagged as I shook my cock with my right hand,
bouncing the head several times off her tongue and the roof of her mouth,
the remaining cum slithering down her throat.  One minute left.  I pulled
my cock out and pushed her face back into the mattress.  I put some more
chloroform on the handkerchief, then put the handkerchief to her face,
taking care that she did not see me.  She was knocked out again a few
moments later.



   Leaving her sprawled out naked in the back, I pulled my pants up where
they had bunched around my ankles, hopped into the driver's seat, and drove
off whistling a little ditty, happy with the experience I would remember
for the rest of my life.  I drove unobserved across the field and back onto
the road, leaving her naked unconscious body (still wearing shoes and socks
of course) and her bookbag near an RFD mailbox a couple of miles from where
I had ass-fucked her.  I then tore out of there, heading north.  Anyone
intending to pursue me would think I went south because the border was in
that direction.  I heard a radio report later that she had been found and
that she would be okay, except that she would be kept in a hospital
overnight for observation.  There were no other clues or witnesses.  She
hadn't seen my face and wasn't sure what I was driving.  Of course they had
my DNA now because of my semen in and on her body, but I had no record, so
there was nothing to compare it to.



   Now here I was in this old cabin a few years later with six-year old
Kristin, only recently converted into a submissive preteen slut, licking my
ass as I was jacking myself off.  I was starting to build towards orgasm,
remembering what it had been like buttfucking Megan in the van.  I reached
down between my legs and grabbed a handful of Kristin's golden hair,
raising her hooded head up, bringing to a halt the good little ass-licking
she was giving me.  She moaned a bit at the sudden detachment from her
task; she had really been getting into the tongue-reaming of my asshole,
judging by her earnestness.  I reached down and untied the knot binding her
wrists to her ankles.  I lifted her up and stretched her out on top of me,
then flipped her around so that her stomach was on my stomach, her head
suspended over my cock.  I moved the chain clamped to her right ankle out
of the way.  I grasped her calves and parted her leather-enclosed little
legs, gazing at her well-fucked hairless little pussy and asshole peeking
out through the crotch opening in her leather outfit.  I ripped off the
removable leather ass flap, the metal snaps popping as it came free.  Now
her beautiful tiny white ass was fully revealed, a few red welts marring
its otherwise creamy texture, looking even sexier when contrasted with the
black leather that surrounded it.  She didn't need to be told what to do as
I felt her liquid mouth descend on my cock, her little fingers plying my
balls, her tongue dancing on my glans.  A few minutes later I spilled my
white seed deep into Kristin's throat, as I thought about little Megan's
cock-impaled little unconscious body scooting around the van as I
buttfucked her without remorse, her little pigtails flopping all about. 
Kristin gulped all of my cum down, licking up all of the stray drops.  She
then smacked her lips clean, knowing that my cum was part of her
protein-rich breakfast.



   I shrugged her little body off of me and got up.  Time to stop
daydreaming about past conquests.  Time to get out of here.  Time to go
home.

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



   Preteen Bound, ch.4





   I smiled as I looked in the rear-view mirror to check on my little
Kristin.  The sun had been up for an hour, the light illuminating the
interior of my van as we hurtled down the highway towards home.  Through
the open partition I could see her swaying gently in rhythm to the regular
little bumps in the road.  Her leather-encased body was hanging upside-down
like some kind of black bat, her tiny white ankles bound and attached by
ropes to two small hooks anchored in the van's roof.  Her long golden hair
trailed on the mattress, her gagged and blindfolded head suspended about
twelve inches above it.  The eighteen-inch gap between the hooks forced her
little legs wide-open.  She was oriented so that she was facing the front
of the van.  I could see her red puffy pussy lips through the open crotch
of her black leather outfit, even though she was some nine feet away near
the back, just a foot or so from the van's windowless back door.  Her arms
were bound to her sides with several turns of rope around her torso.  I
pulled my cock from my pants and began stroking it, thinking about what she
had done at the last truck stop we were at, where she had had her first
experience with other men.



   I had left her in the van like this when I went into the greasy spoon to
get a quick sit-down meal after driving all night.  The truck stop was one
of those huge neon-lit enterprises you see along major interstates.  The
sun peeked over the horizon, the light reflecting on at least fifty or
sixty eighteen-wheelers parked in the massive parking lot.  I sat down at a
booth and ordered the usual breakfast crap from a testy old hag.  I
couldn't help but overhear the conversation of two fat, hairy truckers in
the booth behind me.  They were talking about pussy, as is usual with
truckers.  They were bragging about the young stuff.  One of them whispered
to the other that he had once fucked a twelve-year-old girl.  His partner
scoffed, telling him that that was nothing, he had fucked a ten-year-old
once, in the ass no less.  They both laughed.  These guys were obviously
full-of-shit wannabes, but at least they had the right frame of mind for
what I was thinking about.  I was running low on money, and little Kristin
really needed a change, so what the hell, I thought, let's see what comes
of it.



   I turned around, resting my elbow on top of the booth, giving both men
an appraising look.  The man furtherest from me, who could see me directly,
noticed me looking at him.  His eyes narrowed suspiciously, the scar on his
right cheek contracting with the effort.  "Gotta problem, buddy," he said
gruffly.  Nothing like a trucker to take offense at the slightest
provocation.  His friend, who was right behind me with his back to me,
turned his head around to stare at me, his face assuming the same menacing
expression.  "Not really," I replied, "but I couldn't help but overhear
what you were just talking about." They both shrank back a bit, all the
little wheels humming as they tried to figure out my angle.  "You a cop or
something," spouted the fat boy closest to me, his Caterpillar ballcap
pulled down hard over his head.  "Yeah," I said, laughing and winking, "and
you're both under arrest." Silence from both of them.  No sense of humor.



   "Look," I said, dropping my voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "my
six-year-old daughter is out in my van, trussed up, willing and able to
service you both, if you've got the balls...and some money." They looked at
each other, snickering at the offer.  "Yeah," said Scarface, "and I'm the
fucking Dali Lama." They both chortled, though they soon stopped when I
didn't join in with them.  "This is for real, dipshits," I said, as I
pulled a picture of Kristin from my shirt pocket.  It was one of her better
poses inside the van.  I passed it to Caterpillar-man, whose beady little
eyes immediately opened wide, a slow whistle escaping from his lips.  "Let
me see that," barked Scarface.  He grabbed the picture from his friend and
stared at it for several seconds.  "Nice," he said, "really fucking nice."
They looked at each other, desperately wanting to believe that they might
have just hit the little girl lotto.  I was sure that both their cocks were
tenting their grubby jeans beneath the booth tabletop.  I knew that I had
them.  They just wouldn't be able to resist Kristin's charms.



   Anticipating their questions, I said "Two hundred dollars each.  You get
thirty minutes total.  You can both do her together or individually, but
thirty minutes is all you get.  Anything goes except nothing
life-threatening, no scars, and no extreme pain.  Need to save her for
another day, if you know what I mean.  I'll be there to make sure these
conditions are adhered to.  You do her in my van.  Oh yeah, I also get to
take pictures.  Of course your faces will not be in them." The finality in
my voice convinced them that this was for real.



   The surly waitress returned with my food, so I reached over the booth
divider and plucked the picture from Scarface's hand, telling them to let
me know real soon.  As I ate my greasy eggs and bacon, I could hear them
quietly jabbering on, coming to a decision.  Just as I finished mopping up
my plate with a piece of toast, they rose and stood at the side of my
booth. The look on their faces told me all I needed to know: two fat boys
who wanted to get their dicks wet in a little girl.  "Let's do it," said
Scarface, his partner nodding.  "Right," I said, throwing down a few bills
to cover the tab, stiffing the bitchy waitress on the tip.  "Let's go."



   We went out into the parking lot, the sound of air-brakes and roaring
engines in the air.  "Where are your trucks?" I said, "or are you
travelling together?" They each pointed to their own semi-trailer truck.  I
directed them to drive over to a remote, empty part of the parking lot and
to park the two semis side by side with enough room for my van to get in
between them, hidden from view.  I figured that with two fat boys like
this, the van would be shaking in no time.  Better that no one wonder what
was going on.  They did as I told them.  After I had parked the van between
their trucks, I opened the back door so that they could see that Kristin
was for real.  I could hear the sharp intake of their breath as they got
their first view of her, her little white six-year-old ass poking out of
the black leather sheathing as she dangled there upside-down like a
sausage, a bound and gagged sausage.  I closed the doors, telling them to
pay up, as the thirty minutes they were to have with her was about to
start.



   They fumbled for their wallets, extracting several bills and passing
them to me, each looking around like they had been caught with their hands
in the cookie jar.  "Take it easy, guys," I said, counting the money.  Four
hundred even.  "Okay," I said, "who's first, or do you want to go
together?" "Together," they said in unison, like a couple of eager choir
boys on their first dates.  Obviously neither one wanted to say later that
he had settled for sloppy seconds.



   I reopened the van doors and told them to get in.  They worked their fat
bodies past Kristin without touching her.  "It's alright, guys, you can
play with her now.  The clock has started," I said, looking at my watch as
I closed the doors behind us.  I flipped on the overhead interior light and
opened the partition at the front of the van so that there would be
additional natural light for them to see her, and for me to take pictures.
The heavily tinted windows would prevent anyone from seeing in should they
stray this far out.  Leaving her hanging for the moment, I removed
Kristin's blindfold and gag so that they could get a better idea of how
beautiful the little fuck-slut was.  Her blue eyes blinked in the light,
taking in the scene upside-down, her lips opening as she sucked air through
her teeth.  Her face was red from hanging like a marketplace fish for so
long.  "Do you want the leather on or off?" I inquired, as the two men
squatted there, their mouths partially open, their eyes taking in the full
grandeur of it all.  "Off," said Scarface, as he unzipped his jeans and
produced a fat hard cock.



   "Kristin," I said, laughing, as I undid the knot on one hook, "I would
like you to meet a couple of guys who have fallen in love with you." She
hung by one foot as I released the knot on the second hook.  She fell the
twelve inches to the mattress headfirst, squeaking all the way.  I removed
the ropes binding her arms to her sides and the ropes tied to her ankles.
Her leather gear was zippered from collar to waist in the back, so I
shucked her like an ear of corn in just a few seconds, shaking her body out
of the outfit's tight leather legs.  She now lay on her back naked as a
jaybird, her inviting hairless pussy open to view, her little well-formed
legs outstretched toward the two squatting men.  For some reason she had
not moved her arms from where they were trapped under her back, making her
look more vulnerable.  She raised her little head up, gazing at the men in
front of her, the halo of her angelic golden hair framing her innocent
miniature face, all of which presented an inviting fuck-me-now vision if
there ever was one.  "Jesus fucking-a Christ," groaned Caterpillar-man, as
he undid his belt, his large cock snaking down his left leg under his
jeans. Scarface couldn't take it any more.  Without hesitation he threw his
fat body over the little girl, who disappeared completely from view.  The
little six-year-old's muffled groan could be heard as his sudden heavy
weight compressed her into the mattress.  Scarface raised himself up on all
fours, his enormous cock dangling out of his jeans, just inches from her
puffy pussy.  Kristin's little wrists and ankles were trapped under his
hands and knees like pinned butterfly wings as she looked up at him so
innocently, her little flat chest heaving.  "Wait a second, wait for me,"
Caterpillar-man said, as he realized he was missing out on the fun.  He
pulled his boots and jeans off faster than he probably ever had or ever
will again.  In the meantime, Scarface was lapping Kristin's little preteen
face the way a giant Labrador retriever licks its ass, his long wet tongue
leaving trails of saliva from her neck to her forehead.  She tried to turn
her head to avoid the big sloppy tongue, but to no avail.



   I pulled my camera from the compartment on the van wall, and began
taking pictures as Caterpillar-man shoved Scarface's ass to the side so he
could get at Kristin's hairless little pussy.  Scarface took the
opportunity to get his boots and jeans off too, grunting hard with the
effort.  Now both men were wearing only their tee-shirts, wool socks, and
stupid ballcaps, not bothering with removing the remaining items.  Thirty
minutes would go by too fast for that luxury.  Scarface maneuvered on his
knees behind Kristin's head so that his huge cock dangled inches from her
mouth.  Caterpillar-man had already lifted her little legs up over his
shoulders, so that her little heels bounced off his tattooed upper back as
he furiously face-fucked her tiny pussy, sticking his tongue as far in as
he could, inching her little body back towards Scarface with each thrust.
She looked up at Scarface wide-eyed through the dense tangle of his balls
hovering over her face.  "Put my cock in your mouth, you little bitch,"
commanded Scarface.  He was going to get his money's worth, I could see.  I
moved to another position so that I could get a good shot of both of them
abusing her little body.



   She didn't respond to his command fast enough.  Kristin cried out as
Scarface smacked her little face with the open palm of his right hand,
leaving a bright flaming red mark on her right cheek.  "Put my cock in your
mouth, you little cocksucking bitch." Kristin reached up with her little
right hand and touched his cockhead, her fingernails impossibly small
against the giant purple knob.  Her little hand guided his cock down toward
her yawning mouth, the pink wet interior glistening, her little white
doll-teeth sunk back under her pinkish lips, her eyes closed.  The head of
his cock entered her face-hole, her lips stretching wide to accommodate its
mass, her chin nearly touching her chest with the force of the expansion.
Meanwhile, Caterpillar-man had come up for breath.  He pushed her little
legs up and back until her knees pressed against her stomach, all the
better to get access to her sweet little asshole.  He wet the middle finger
of his right hand with his mouth and corkscrewed it into her tiny rectum.
She gave a start as he poked in and out, twisting his head from side to
side as he leaned down near the mattress in order to get a better view.



   These two guys were really enjoying themselves.  Sweat beaded and swam
on Scarface's beer gut, forming little rivulets that randomly converged
before cascading off the fat escarpment, peppering Kristin's little face
like a heavy afternoon drizzle.  By now he had half of his nine-inch cock
rammed down her throat, her small adam's apple bobbing furiously as the
clearly discernible cockhead drove a wedge into her larnyx like a tunneling
mole.  She was choking to death, her face turning blue, so I had no choice
but to intervene.  "Pull out of her throat or the party is over." I said to
Scarface.  He seemed to not hear as he kept lowering his cock into the
bottomless well of Kristin's little face.  I gave him a push so that he
lost his balance, his cock slithering out her mouth like a large snake
backing out of its hole.  "Wh..why'd you do that, huh?" he exclaimed,
coming back to his senses.  "You were choking her, dumbass," I said.  "You
do that again and the party is over, understand?  No refunds." "Okay,
okay," he blurted, immediately reinserting his cock into her still open,
practically unhinged mouth, careful not to push too far.  He reached out
with his right hand and tilted her neck back so he could grind his cock
around in her mouth easier.  With his left hand he took turns twisting her
tiny nipples, eliciting a jerk out of her body each time he did so, as
though she had just received a jolt of electricity.



   Caterpillar-man had paid no attention to my little exchange with
Scarface; he was too fascinated with Kristin's asshole to give a shit.  He
was now working her with three fingers of his right hand, pistoning his
three-fingered dildo into her ass over and over, right up to the knuckles,
while his left thumb was inserted into her pussy in order to get a better
purchase.  I'm sure he would have liked to have gotten his entire fist in
her little preteen ass, but that was impossible without splitting her open
like a ripe melon.  "Fifteen minutes," I said.  "You better get down to
business.  There won't be any time extensions." They both grunted in
response, both working her over as her little body rose and fell, rocked
and rolled to their abusive manipulations, like a hunk of pizza dough
probed and kneaded by two over-zealous cooks.



   Caterpillar-man removed his hand from the base of her ass, his fingers
shining from the furious ass-reaming he had been giving her.  His
eight-inch cock jerked up and down on the mattress of its own accord, the
mass of his balls looking like a giant birdnest at its base.  "I'm going to
fuck her ass," he announced to no one in particular.  Scarface volunteered
to cum in her mouth.  Pillars of the community, these two.  Caterpillar-man
stood up as far as he could, his shoulders pressed against the van roof. 
He reached down and grasped Kristin by the ankles and feet, lifting her
like an empty sack.  Scarface's cock left a trail of slime on her forehead
as she was pulled away, a little string of spit lengthening between his
cockhead and her mouth.  "Hey, what the fuck," said Scarface.  "Don't get
your panties in a knot," replied Caterpillar-man, "I'm just getting the
little bitch in position for both of us." Scarface also rose onto his feet,
hunched over because of the low van roof, watching Kristin dangle in front
of him like a piece of meat.  Both were mesmerized by the sight, probably
never even dreaming that such a thing would ever happen to them.  "Smile,"
I said, taking a picture as they turned toward me, looking for all the
world like two proud, half-naked fisherman holding their prize catch.  Of
course, I kept their surprised faces out of the shot.



   Caterpillar-man rotated Kristin around so that her mouth was directly in
line with his cock, the huge eight-inch slab of meat just inches from her
face.  "Hey," whined Scarface, "I want her mouth." "You can have it,"
snapped Caterpillar-man, "just grab her arms and pull her out away from
me." Scarface immediately grabbed her little wrists and pulled her dangling
upper body up and towards him until she was nearly horizontal, her body
suspended face down between the two men.  Scarface's nine-inch cock now
loomed into Kristin's view like a giant rattlesnake about to strike its
prey.  Caterpillar-man worked his hands up her calves and thighs until he
had a solid grasp on her outer thighs, moving his body between her opened
little legs, his fat gut obscuring her little ass from view.  The two men
were now separated by only a couple of feet, facing each other, their heads
nearly touching as they hunched over their little preteen prostitute, who
bridged the gap between them at groin level.



   I handed Caterpillar-man some KY, telling him that he had to use it if
he was going to put his cock in her ass.  He released his hands from her
body, maintaining his end of her in the air by hunching his lower body
under her, her little legs to either side of his fat waist.  He squeezed a
huge gob of the KY into his left palm like it was a painter's easel.  He
dabbed his right thumb into the KY, then trowelled the stuff into her
abused asshole with a flourish, as if he were some fucking Picasso.  Both
men were breathing heavily, concentrating intensely.  Kristin moaned
occasionally, as if she were only half-conscious.  Scarface placed his
hands on either side of Kristin's head, supporting her there while her now
useless slender arms hung down below her, her little hands a foot above the
mattress.  He commanded her to open her mouth, which she slowly did like
the little robotic slut she had become.  He lowered her head onto his
upthrust shaft, her stretched jaws slowly engulfing his huge purple
cockhead as though she were a snake swallowing another snake. 
Caterpillar-man applied some of the KY to his cock.  Satisfied, he rubbed
his gigantic cockhead up and down her ass-crack, preparing it, and her, for
the ass-reaming of her short little life.  He positioned his huge cock at
her ass entrance and began leaning forward while pulling her towards him
using both hands on her little hips.  I took a picture as his cockhead
opened her ass like a giant drill boring into her soft flesh, the elastic
ring parting, stretching, nearly breaking under the intense pressure.  Her
screams were muted by Scarface's cock, only the higher frequencies escaping
past her lips.  And then she was mercifully unconscious, completely limp,
as the giant cock slid into her body like some invading alien, the pulsing,
blue veins standing out as they were swallowed up one by one, as inch by
slow inch the cock-monster penetrated into her tiny ass.



   "That's far enough, she can't take more than that," I informed
Caterpillar-man, as half of his eight-inch cock had been swallowed up by
Kristin's sucking ass.  Although his cock was only an inch longer than
mine, it had much more girth.  I didn't want this little girl to be torn
up. A helluva humanitarian I was, I thought sarcastically to myself.  Her
body sagged like a sack of potatoes as it hung between them.  As if by a
pre-arranged signal they both lowered themselves to the mattress, Kristin's
torso spanning the short distance between them.  Caterpillar-man sat
Indian-style, his hands kneading and prying Kristin's little asscheeks
open, his thumbs pressing around her assring, as he gazed at where her
stretched rectum cinched his cock like a tourniquet.  Scarface sat with his
knees under him.  He leaned his upper body back from this position so that
he could see the little girl's face better, his cock lodged deeply into the
back of her throat, her upturned nose shooting little puffs of air into his
pubic hair, her eyes open but unseeing, her hair spreading out around her
like a heap of finely-spun gold.  She was impaled on both ends by two huge
cocks, making it look as if the same giant pole must be running completely
through her, attached to bookend truckers.



   Scarface dropped his hands away from her head.  "Look, ma, no hands!",
he laughed, as he pointed to Kristin, her head now balanced over his cock,
her mouth engulfing several inches of the hard meat, the back of her throat
preventing further entry as her head wobbled on its cockstand.  "Cool,"
exclaimed the ever-gallant Caterpillar-man, as he gripped her tiny waist
and began to move her little ass back and forth over the four inches of his
embedded cock.  He sat perfectly still as he masturbated himself by
manipulating her ass with his powerful hands and arms.  Scarface grabbed a
fistful of Kristin's hair and raised her head until her mouth was nearly
free of his cock.  Then he lowered her head back down as far as it would go
on its own.  His saliva-stained cock glistened as he sped up the motion,
until her head was a blur as he masturbated himself with her mouth.  I took
some more pictures.



   They continued this tug-of-war with her little body for a couple of
minutes.  Caterpillar-man jerked her body back and forth as she serviced
him with her ass, while Scarface pumped her preteen head up and down as she
serviced him with her mouth.  They came nearly at the same time, exploding
into both ends of Kristin's violated body.  She was tossed around like a
ragdoll as their cum erupted.  Both men roared their delight.  Because of
the angle of Kristin's head, Scarface's cum had nowhere to go but down, so
it poured out from under Kristin's lips, running down his cock like a
faucet with a busted gasket.  As he finished up, he lifted her head using
her hair-handle and watched the remaining cum collect and drip from her
open mouth, drawing circles in his pubic hair as he moved her head around.
Caterpillar-man watched entranced as his cum broke through the seam around
her asshole, squirting on his chest and face like an oil gusher.  They had
definitely gotten their money's worth, I thought, as I took the final
pictures.



   They cleaned themselves up, put their clothes back on, and left,
thanking me for the experience of their lives.  This would make a great
story to tell their buddies.  I heard their trucks fire up and drive off as
I cleaned up little Kristin, making sure she was okay.  When she came
around I told her that she had done a great job, and that I was very proud
of her.  These were the first kind words I had spoken to her since her
abduction, so of course she lapped them up.  I gave her some food and
water, then put her leather outfit back on, after which I re-bound and
re-hung her upside-down from the van roof.  My little bat fell asleep
instantly.



   Now here we were back on the highway heading home.  Quite a little
adventure we had had this last week.  But even though we had just finished
one risky episode at the truck stop, I was feeling even bolder, throwing
caution to the wind.  I was already thinking about what we could do next.
But I needed another little girl to enact the fantasy I had dreamed up.  I
pulled off at the next exit.  I knew this area.  I knew where I might find
the perfect little girl.  I tucked my cock back into my pants.  I looked at
my watch; it was only 7:00 in the morning.  Today was Wednesday.  I could
do it right now.



   A light rain had started to fall as we drove down a lonely shady lane
several miles out in the country.  I had scouted this area in the past when
I had been looking further afield for priceless little preteen pussy. 
Although I had never kidnapped a girl here, I knew that this was a good
area, both for the quality of the merchandise and for the ease of executing
the kidnapping.  This early in the morning was the perfect time to find a
little farmgirl all by herself, waiting for the schoolbus to appear.  I
rounded a heavily-treed corner of this old country road, and lo and behold,
there she was.  She stood on the right side of the road wearing a little
yellow rainslicker, a colorful little umbrella keeping the light rain off
of her hooded little head.  Her yellow galoshes were muddy where she had
trekked down the lane leading to her house.  The house was not visible from
the road.  Perfect!  Perfect!  I slowed the van down as I approached her.
She was six, maybe seven, with beautiful brown curly hair poking out from
the interior of her hood, her curious brown eyes checking me out.  She had
perfect lips, partly open as if she wanted to say something to me.  I
decided as I approached that I would take her the old-fashioned way,
without force, through pure bullshit.  Getting them to believe you always
made the snatch more thrilling.  I stopped the van and rolled down the
passenger side window so I could talk to her.  She took a couple of
tentative little steps towards the van passenger door, her cute little head
tilted up as she waited for me to appear and say something.  She no doubt
had been cautioned about talking to strangers.



   I noticed the mailbox only ten feet away.  The name 'Johnson' was
stenciled on the side.  I had an idea.  Picking up a little notebook that I
had handy on the dashboard, I craned over the passenger seat and looked
down at the perfect preteen piece of ass.  My thoat caught as I tried to
pull off this bluff while images of what I was going to do with her and
Kristin popped into my head.  "Is your name Jennifer Johnson?  I'm here to
pick up a Jennifer Johnson for school," I managed to get out, coughing a
bit.  I scanned my notebook as if I were reading her name.  "No, my name is
Amber Johnson," she replied in a perfect lilting little girl voice, only
slightly peeved that I had gotten her name wrong.  "Well, my list here says
that I'm supposed to pick up a Jennifer Johnson.  Do you have a sister by
that name?" I asked lamely, as though lost myself, hoping that I appeared
to be a trustworthy but somewhat confused bus driver.  "No," she said, "I'm
the only girl in my family." She paused.  "Where is Mr.  Thompson and the
big yellow bus?" she asked, plainly disturbed that someone she didn't know
was asking for her.  "Oh, he got the bus stuck in a ditch a few miles
back," I said.  "The muddy roads caused the problem.  Anyway, I've been
told to pick up the rest of the students on his route, and this address was
given to me for a Jennifer Johnson, 1124 Roseberry Lane," I said, reading
the address on the mailbox.  "I guess they must have gotten your first name
wrong." She was buying into this, I could tell.  She stepped back a bit and
surveyed the van again.  "How come you don't have a school bus?" she said,
looking me squarely in the eye.  She was smart, but not smart enough for
the master.  "Well," I replied, "as a part-time driver I was asked to use
my own vehicle because they don't have any big schoolbuses left, what with
this weather and everything.  You don't have to come with me, but you'll
miss school if you don't.  You need to decide now, because you are the
first on my list, and I'm already late in picking up the other kids." I
pretended to scan my list again, looking as if I were ready to leave.  She
stood there for a few seconds, going over it all in her mind.  I popped the
latch on the passenger door and swung it outwards, inviting her in.  When
she popped her umbrella closed and took a step towards the door, my cock
sprang against the cotton of my pants.  I had her.  She was mine.  And
Kristin's too.

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



   Preteen Bound, ch.5



   As little Amber clambered into the passenger seat, I slid the partition
closed.  No point in letting her see my other captive, bound and hanging
upside-down in the back of the van.  Not just now, anyway.  Time enough for
that later.  As she adjusted herself in the seat, I reached across her and
locked her door, brushing her bare legs with my forearm as I did so.  It
was all I could do to keep from ripping off her slicker and all of her
clothes right there, fucking her until she was completely senseless.  Her
little girl aroma filled the van, all spicy and wet, making my balls ache
as my hardened cock pressed against my pants, the large lump hidden from
view by my shirttail, which I had hurriedly pulled out as she had gotten
in. Her scent was heady stuff and very difficult to resist.  But one reason
I've been successful at this kidnapping game is that I can usually restrain
my most urgent impulses, especially when in a high-threat environment.  I
needed to get away from this house first before the games could begin,
somewhere in the countryside around here perhaps, but not too far: I really
needed to get into her panties soon.  I figured that I had quite a bit of
time before anyone discovered she was missing.  The bus driver would show
up and honk.  When she didn't appear after a minute or so, he would go on,
thinking she had found another way to school or was sick.  Her teacher
would note her absence, but administrative wheels would turn slowly before
anyone suspected that she was actually missing.  I might even have all day
with her before someone noticed, if I was lucky.



   I turned my head towards her as I started the van moving.  She was
regarding me with very serious eyes inside that hood of hers.  "What's your
name?", she queried, realizing, I supposed, that she should have asked this
question before she got in, not that it mattered.  I would have gotten her
one way or the other.  I decided to string her along for awhile, to see how
far I could run with this.  It might even be fun.  "Uh, my name is Dick,
Mr. Dick," I said matter-of-factly, trying to keep from laughing out loud.
She turned away, absorbing this new information.  She was a delicious
sight, even in her rain gear.  The yellow slicker came down to mid-thigh,
exposing her beautifully-carved bare little legs, the hem of a dress
nowhere to be seen, as if she were naked underneath it.  Her legs weren't
long enough to reach the van floor, the edge of the seat meeting her calves
about midway, forcing her muddy yellow galoshes to extend at a slight down
angle in front of her.  She had popped the top two metal snaps of her
slicker after getting in, so I could see the upper part of the red print
dress she had on, making my heart quicken as I thought of reaching over
just then and slipping my hand down the scooped neck, tweaking the tiny
nipples on her flat little chest.  Preoccupied with what her little body
must be like, I nearly drove into the ditch.  "You better put on your seat
belt, Amber," I said paternally, "it's pretty messy on these roads." She
promptly pulled the shoulder harness across her little body, driving the
metal buckle home in its slot, the solid click foretelling the total,
irretrievable depths of her predicament.  My balls churned as I looked at
her now, trapped in her seat while trapped in my van.  I couldn't take this
much longer, the adrenaline rising like spring sap, making me giddy with
lust.



   I came to an intersection.  Not knowing which way to go, I kept going
straight.  She twisted her head sharply towards me, her little girl
instincts kicking in hard now.  "Mr.  Dick, you were supposed to turn
there!" she exclaimed, a look somewhere between bewilderment and alarm
crossing her face, as she pointed her finger back at the road we had just
crossed.  "Call me Mr.  Cock," I said, stifling a giggle, "all my little
friends do." This of course was not the kind of response she had expected,
although my name change didn't register as anything threatening.  She had
probably never even heard the word 'cock', unless it had been associated
with a rooster.  But then you never know about farmgirls, even one six or
seven like Amber.  Pausing for a beat, she said "Well, aren't you going to
turn around, Mr.  Cock?" God I loved it when she said that, the inflection
in her little girl voice rising on the word 'cock'.  I decided right then
that she needed to be introduced to the real Mr.  Cock.



   I pulled my shirttail away from my crotch and unzipped my fly.  I
fumbled around inside my pants until I managed to extract the swollen Mr.
Cock, all seven inches standing proud in full view.  I looked over at her
as I circled Mr.  Cock around in my lap like a stiff hand puppet.  Her face
was red, her jaw sagging as if she had just been punched, her eyes fastened
on the gyrations of the playful Mr.  Cock.  "Hi, my name's Mr.  Cock," I
said, compressing my lips and speaking in a falsetto voice as I tried to
sound like a ventriloquist.  Mr.  Cock danced around center stage in time
with my words.  "Can I see your pussy, little girl," I continued in my new
voice.  Mr.  Cock was having the time of his life.  She sought my eyes, her
eyes pleading for me to tell her that this must be all some kind of joke.
"Mr.  Cock wants to see some little girl pussy, and he wants to see it
now," I said, my falsetto voice rising a notch as I continued with the
little charade.  I pointed the demanding Mr.  Cock right at Amber to
emphasize my point, the red swollen head really making Mr.  Cock appear
angry.  Amber wasn't an appreciative audience.  With shaking little hands
she tried to open the locked door, although since we were traveling at
thirty miles an hour (a bit erratically I might add) she really had nowhere
to go, especially since she was still trapped by the shoulder harness.  But
I didn't doubt for a moment that she might free herself and jump anyway.  I
reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a pair of little
handcuffs (previously used on Kristin), slapping one end on her left wrist.
I pulled the short chain hard towards me, yanking her left hand away from
the door, enabling me to attach the other end to a thick metal eyebolt
anchored on the transom that divided the bucket seats.  I had installed
this eyebolt many years ago for just this purpose and had had the
opportunity to use it many times.  Now she wasn't going anywhere.



   I continued with my little game, although it was starting to wear a
little thin.  In my ventriloquist voice I said, "I want pussy.  I want
pussy.  Can I see your little girl pussy, Amber, please?" I was now shaking
Mr.  Cock violently to make my point.  She shrank back into the corner of
her seat, her back against the door frame, her knees pulled up to her
chest. Her left arm was extended towards me, the short handcuff chain taut.
Unfortunately for her, this position gave Mr.  Cock and me a view of what
we were after.  She could only pull her short slicker half-way down her
knees with her right hand, giving us both a little beaver shot, as a little
patch of pink was clearly visible, recessed in the darkness of her inner
thighs.  Mr.  Cock was getting frantic now, the horny bastard.



   I pulled the van off onto the right shoulder of the narrow road and
stopped, turning off the engine.  Although there were shallow ditches on
either side of this one-laner, there was enough shoulder to allow any
passing vehicles to get by easily.  She continued to huddle, unblinking
frightened rabbit eyes peering out of the hood.  I was losing the control
battle to Mr.  Cock; he was just too damn insistent, putting us both in
jeopardy.  But we had to see this little girl's pussy before we could go
any further.  Without a word I reached across the divide and grabbed her
little ankles, pulling her kicking legs towards me.  She started screaming
then.  Couldn't have that, could we Mr.  Cock.  I gave her a swift backhand
across her right cheek.  Her head snapped back against the window, the
glass vibrating with the blow.  She slumped in the seat.  Out cold.  I
reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a leather gag (always
have to have your basic tools of the trade handy).  I yanked her hood back
and down, her beautiful chestnut hair bursting forth and spilling down
around her shoulders.  I quickly wrapped the gag around her lolling head,
cinching it tight at the back with a double knot.  The leather gag was now
firmly entrenched between her upper and lower teeth, her lips puffy from
the strain.  Her beautiful brown eyes, flecked with bits of gold, were
glazed over; she was down for the count.



   I grabbed her ankles again and pulled her towards me, her body yielding
easily.  I lifted her up enough to get her sweet little ass onto the flat
transom separating the two seats.  I quickly shoved her slicker back to her
waist, folding it over onto her stomach as I moved my head between her
legs. Her ass was now perched on the transom, a little leg crooked at the
knee on each of my shoulders, her muddy galoshes hooked around the back of
my head, while her torso sagged back onto the seat, her gagged head framed
by a pile of brown curls, tilted up so that she looked at me with open but
unseeing eyes.  Her left arm was trapped under her, pulled tight by the
unseen handcuff chain.  Her red print dress still blocked my view of her
precious little slit.  I carefully lifted up the hem with two fingers of
each hand and slowly pulled it back towards her, her preteen treasure box
about to be revealed.  Mr.  Cock lurched as her flawless creamy upper
thighs came into view.  Finally, there it was, her damp pussy crevice
outlined against her pink silk panties.  I slipped my hands palms-up under
the little globes of her ass, finding the elastic top of her panties from
behind.  I slowly pulled towards me, her little ass rising as my hands
moved under her.  Her pink panties peeled away from her body, exposing the
outer lips of her to-die-for little pussy.  Leaving her panties rolled-up
at the top of her legs, I lowered my head into her lap and slowly ran my
tongue from the bottom to the top of her pussy folds, the cleft parting
easily to the invader, the nectar released from her silky inner lining
sliding on my tongue, the slightly musky aroma of her opened pussy wafting
into my nostrils.  As the minutes rolled by, my tongue delved deeper into
her wet interior, searching out the inner lips, prodding and probing,
sucking in her delicious juices.  I buried my nose into her slit, inhaling
her sweet essence.  I lip-sucked her precious clitoris, grooming it like a
lapping puppy dog.  All the risks that Mr.  Cock and I had taken were worth
it after all.  Mr.  Cock was beside himself, wetting up the seat with
precum as he hunched the leather.  This was the pedophile's mother lode, or
should I say little girl lode.



   I was so lost in my little Amber's pussy that I almost didn't hear the
vehicle that passed by and stopped in front of the van.  Jesus Christ.  I
raised up, my chin dripping with her pussy juice, to see an old country
farmer wearing bib overalls getting out of his beat-up pickup, his dumbass
dog barking in the bed.  Fuck me.  Because the windshield and door windows
are heavily-tinted, he couldn't see us unless he looked real close.  In an
instant I ran through all the scenarios in my head, none of them good.  I
chose the one that made the most sense.  Hang tight and pretend that no one
was in the van, hoping he wouldn't linger or peer in.



   He shuffled over and knocked on the driver's window.  Shit.  I gently,
quietly, slid Amber down to the floor in front of her seat, so that if he
did peer in he probably wouldn't see her.  Only her left arm was clearly
visible, manacled to the eyebolt.  Hold tight, I told myself, pushing the
totally deflated, now utterly useless Mr.  Cock back into my pants.  He
knocked again.  I prayed that the fuck-wit good samaritan would give up and
leave.  Then he did what I just knew he was going to do.  Leaning over, he
cupped his hands around his eyes and pressed his grizzled face to the
window, just inches from my own.  The jig was up.  There was only one thing
left to do.



   I slowly eased the door latch up with my left hand as I watched his eyes
scrunch up, trying to focus on the interior.  I tightened my shoulders and
chest and placed the balls of my feet against the bottom of the transom to
gain leverage.  I saw his eyes widen, his mouth agape, just as I lunged
into the door with my left shoulder, using my full bodyweight to the best
advantage.  The door exploded open, the upper part of the window frame
catching the farmer squarely in the jaw as he tried to turn away, the rest
of the door blowing into his mid-section and legs.  The shot he took was
equivalent to being hit by a professional linebacker.  And this guy was no
professional running-back capable of taking it.  As I leapt out the van, I
watched the old man reel backwards across the road, arms flailing at the
air.  At the edge of the road he tripped, executing a respectable backdive
into the ditch.  I was on him in a flash, punching his gnarly head with
quick powerful strokes until there was no further resistance.



   Then the dog was all over me, the fucking mongrel.  It wasn't that big,
but big enough to be a serious nuisance.  As I kicked at his bullet head,
his teeth flashing as he defended his master, I picked up a fist-sized rock
and popped him in the neck.  He ran howling off into the brush.



   I heaved the old man over my shoulder, jogged over to his pick-up, and
quickly laid him out on the bench seat, pushing his legs out of the way so
I could drive.  The keys were in the ignition.  I drove the truck fifty
yards into the woods, where it was effectively hidden from view.  I ran
back and retrieved some rope from the van.  I returned to the pick-up and
bound the old man's wrists behind his back and then his ankles.  I threw
the keys into some bushes.  It would take the old man some time to get help
after he woke up.  I covered the muddy tracks on the road and those leading
into the woods, so that any passers-by wouldn't suspect that something had
happened here recently.



   I knew it was foolish, but after all this work I just had to have Amber
before I ran for the hills.  It was certainly dangerous to linger in this
area, but her pussy had broken down all my restraint and caution.  I was
pumped up from all the action.  I had to have her, and soon.



   I drove for a couple of miles, changing from one back road to another at
random.  I noticed a track leading off to the right, winding its way into a
tree-line.  I left the road and followed it for awhile until I found myself
in a quiet glade.  We were surrounded by huge trees and a number of smaller
ones.  The underbrush wasn't too thick, so it would do.  There was
absolutely no sign of human habitation anywhere.  Even the trail had
petered out a hundred yards back.  The light rain had stopped some time
ago, the sky clearing, the birds chirping.  It was a good spot; it would
have to do in any case: Mr.  Cock, who had reappeared outside my pants
after the action was over, was demanding it, having reinflated back to
life, the little coward.  I parked the van and got out, the dangling Mr. 
Cock enjoying the slight breeze, primed and ready for action.  I opened the
back door, giving my little hanging bat, Kristin, a pat on the ass as I
retrieved a fifty foot coil of quarter-inch rope and my knife.  I unlocked
the passenger door, lifting up little Amber from the van floor.  I released
her handcuff and threw her over my right shoulder.  She was still out, but
she was now making little whiny noises, indicating she was coming around.
Her gagged head pressed against my upper back, face to the side, her arms
hanging down, her body folded at the waist on my shoulder, while I kept her
in position with my right arm in the back of her knees.  I looked around
for the best spot to do her.  Her slicker and dress were still pulled up
above her waist, exposing her little white ass, the pink panties rolled
down to the bottom of her butt cleft where I had left them.  Her bare right
thigh pressed against my right cheek.  I could feel, smell, and almost
taste the tangy heat of her preteen pussy only inches from my face.  I
turned my head and gave her thigh a little hickey, sucking hard on her
baby-soft skin.  Down below Mr.  Cock was beside himself; he wanted to get
in the little bitch right now.



   I found a nice flat area where the ground was covered with a thick wild
grass about six inches high.  I sat Amber down, leaning her back against a
large tree, the grass sprouting up between her bare open legs, her panties
now shifted further down her thighs because of all of the movement.  I cut
a six-foot length of rope and tied one end to her right wrist.  I wrapped
the rope around the tree, cut away the excess, and then bound her left
wrist securely, tightening the rope first so that her arms were stretched
out at right angles to her body, her wrists forced up against the tree. 
She wasn't going anywhere now.  I removed her gag.  After a couple of
minutes, her head stirred and lifted up from her slicker.  Her eyes opened.
She looked up at me standing there with a knife in one hand and a coil of
rope in the other.  "What happened," she said in a quavery voice, testing
her bound wrists, "what am I doing here?" I dropped the rope and the knife.
"Amber, remember me, Mr.  Cock?", I said, using my ventriloquist voice
while wagging Mr.  Cock at her.  She recoiled as I batted Mr.  Cock back
and forth between my open palms.  She definitely remembered now.  "Mr. 
Cock wants to get to know you better, Amber," I said, laughing, dropping to
my knees in front of her.  Mr.  Cock was now fully erect, throbbing in the
air in time with my racing heart.  He and I were so much alike.  I reached
out and gripped the front of her rain slicker with both hands.  With one
motion I tore the garment open, the metal snaps popping like a string of
tiny firecrackers.  With my knife I cut through the canvas, slashing the
slicker to pieces until there was nothing left of it on her.  The beautiful
locks of her chestnut hair coiled around her shoulders, framing her
frightened face, her eyes open wide with unalloyed terror.  With her
slicker now gone, there was nothing left but her red print dress, her
rolled-up panties at mid-thigh, and her galoshes, with shoes and socks
within.  With my right hand I grabbed the top of her scooped collar and
yanked hard.  An eight-inch wide strip of the flimsy material parted like
soft tissue.  As I slowly tore a swath through her dress, first her flat
chest, then her tight stomach, and finally her little pink slit were
revealed.  Some blades of grass had already worked there way into her
pussy, beating me to the punch, the lucky buggers.  I was like a little kid
opening his best present on Christmas morning as I continued tearing the
wrapping from her little body until there was nothing left of her dress but
a pile of cloth strips.  I left her rolled-up panties and footwear on for
the moment.



   She had pretty much been in shock during the time I was violently
removing her clothing.  Now it was time to really shock her by formally
introducing Mr.  Cock.  With my left hand I grabbed a fistful of curly hair
and tilted her head back against the tree.  She gave a little girl scream.
Mr.  Cock knew how to stop that.  I walked my knees up between her bare
little legs, over her panties, and up to her groin.  I flexed my knees
outward, using them like spreaders to scissor her legs completely open, her
torn panties stretching even more under my shins.  I looked down to see her
little pussy widen, allowing more grass blades to get in.  Using my right
hand, I rubbed Mr.  Cock all over her face, my precum leaving little slimy
trails on her cheeks and chin, as she tossed her head back and forth,
futilely trying to evade the relentless Mr.  Cock.  She opened her mouth
wide and screamed again.  That was a mistake, because Mr.  Cock oh so
wanted to visit her mouth oh so very badly.  He took the opportunity
presented.  Before the scream ended he had already brushed past her lips,
scrapped the roof of her mouth, and lodged in the back of her throat.  I
guess I could skip Mr.  Cock's formal introduction after all.  Without so
much as a beg your pardon, ma'am, Mr.  Cock began dancing all around inside
her little mouth, exploring every crevice and cranny, poking here and
there, sometimes bumping into her little tongue, other times burnishing the
back of her lovely little throat, often pushing her cheeks out.  Amber
turned her brown eyes up to me beseechingly as I gripped her hair even
tighter, tilted her head back even farther, until Mr.  Cock, sensing that
he could disappear completely, lunged all the way down her throat.  Mr. 
Cock was now like a rabbit happily ensconced in its hole.  "Amber, what
have you done with Mr.  Cock," I implored.  "Did you swallow him all gone,
you bad girl." Amber was having a hard time answering.  Her nose and lips
were buried in my pubic hair, making it appear as though she were sucking
on a bale of steel wool.  "Cat got your tongue," I laughed, "or is that Mr.
Cock who's got it?" God we were a riot.  Mr.  Cock and I could have been a
good circus act.  Step right up and see the famous, the one and only, Mr.
Coooooockkkk!



   I pulled Mr.  Cock partway out of his hole, which was a good thing for
Amber because I don't think she was breathing during that period.  But Mr.
Cock was insistent on returning time and time again, apparently because he
liked how wet and warm it was down there in the bottom of Amber's
face-hole. And to tell you the truth, I kind of liked it too.  Mr.  Cock
was so excited about his new hole that he finally lost it, throwing up all
over his new nest, the thick cream gushing everywhere.  Amber couldn't hold
it all, the little slut, so some of it jetted out of her nose like a stream
of snot, the rest of it leaking from her mouth, only to dribble down onto
her flat chest or into the grass, where it formed little pearly drops that
glistened in the sunlight.  What a mess!  Mr.  Cock should be ashamed.  And
so should Amber for not swallowing it all.



   I wiped the last of my cum all over her stunned face, leaving milky
trails that congealed under her disbelieving eyes, as well as on her
forehead, cheeks and chin.  Mr.  Cock was kind of sorry for what he had
done (not really, the liar), so he stroked her pretty face tenderly, trying
to make little Amber feel better.  Little hangers of cum still clung to her
nostrils.  She hadn't bothered to close her mouth, the little whore,
appearing as though she wanted Mr.  Cock to come play in her hole again. 
So Mr.  Cock, never the one to wait for an invitation, periodically slipped
back into her mouth, bringing it bits of cum as he made his rounds on her
face, making sure her little lips squeeged all of his vomit away.  Mr. 
Cock finally finished up, retreating back to his cage within my pants.  He
would be coming back very soon for an encore performance with Amber's
little pussy.  He would like that hole even better than her face one.



   I stood up and stretched.  What a day it's been so far, I thought.  It
wasn't even 9:30 in the morning, and Mr.  Cock and I had managed so much,
what with Kristin taking on two truckers single-handedly, Amber taking an
unexpected ride--then showing me her pussy, a little fracas with an unlucky
farmer, and a nice little blow-job from my newest preteen bitch.  I needed
to cap this wonderful morning off with something very worthy before making
tracks for home.



   I returned to the van, leaving naked little Amber tied to the tree in a
state of shock, her legs spread wide, her stretched panties at mid-thigh
partially torn, her pussy a pink slash in the cum-stained grass.  What a
slut.  I opened the van door and untied little Kristin from the roof hooks.
She was awake, her blue eyes blinking in the light as I removed the
blindfold.  I removed the ropes wrapped around her torso and on her ankles
and finally the gag.  Sitting on the mattress, she flexed her little
leather-sheathed legs and arms, rubbing herself to get the circulation
going again.  I pulled her hood off so that I could see all of her face. 
She looked at me questioningly, taking in the woods all around us.  "Can
you walk?" I asked tenderly.  She nodded yes, sliding out of the van door
and landing in a heap when her legs failed to support her.  "I want you to
meet someone," I said, gently grabbing her at the back of her leather
collar, lifting her like you would lift a cat by the scruff of the neck. 
We went back to the tree.



   I plopped her down in the grass in front of Amber.  "Kristin," I said,
"I would like you to meet Amber." I looked at Amber and said,
"Amber--Kristin." Amber did not respond, her head hung low.  Rather rude.
Kristin just stared at her.  I cut a twelve-foot length of rope and tied it
around the base of the same tree that Amber was bound to.  I tied the other
end in a very secure knot to Kristin's right ankle so that she couldn't run
off.  There was about six feet of play in the rope.  I pulled off Amber's
galoshes, shoes and socks, tossing them away in the deep grass.  I removed
her torn, rolled-up panties and threw them up on a branch above us.  I then
cut two one-foot lengths of rope.  I tied one end of each to Amber's
unresisting ankles.  Sitting in front of her, I lifted her legs up and away
from each other, pressing them back towards the tree where I securely bound
her ankles to her outspread wrists, readjusting the bindings to ensure that
her ass would be suspended several inches off of the ground.  She struggled
a bit in her new position before realizing that it was useless.  With her
back still up against the tree, her legs were now wide-open, presenting a
very nice V-shape, her little pussy fully revealed at grass height.



   Now the test to see if Kristin had any will left of her own.  "Kristin,
honey," I said sweetly.  "I want you to start licking little Amber's pussy.
Please." I thought the 'please' was a nice touch.  Like the good little
slut she had become, she dropped to her knees in the thick grass, then to
her stomach.  She snaked up to Amber's snatch by pulling herself along by
her elbows.  "Go on," I encouraged her, "she'll like having her pussy
licked." I moved up closer so I could see better.  Tied-up little Amber
looked at Kristin for the first time, a brief recognition of a kindred
spirit shining in her eyes.  Then they glazed over again as Kristin set to
work.  Although she had never licked pussy before in her life, you wouldn't
know it by the way she took to her new task.  The kid was a natural.  Her
upturned nose was completely embedded in Amber's slit as her little pink
tongue stabbed between Amber's pussy lips.  Her face was so far in that you
could hear her snuffle like a pig rooting up truffles.  Kristin's eyes were
upturned towards Amber's face, hoping for some kind of response no doubt.
Amber moaned occasionally, whether from pain or pleasure it wasn't clear.
In any case Kristin would redouble her efforts, her little white ass
wiggling around on the ground as it poked out from the opening of her black
leather outfit.  Mr.  Cock awakened in his cage, pressing to get out.  He's
so incorrigible.



   I slowly dropped to my knees behind Kristin, freeing Mr.  Cock as I
descended.  I lifted her little ass in the air as I forced her legs up
underneath her until she was on her knees, the little bitch not skipping a
beat in the furious pussy-licking she was giving Amber.  I hocked up some
spit into my right hand and worked it into Kristin's asshole with two
fingers.  Her rectum opened easily, having just been punctured hours before
by Caterpillar-man's drive-shaft of a cock.  She of course knew what was
coming.  She shifted her knees further apart to give me better access. 
What a nice gesture.  I made a mental note to start treating her better,
but not too much better.  Wouldn't want her to think she was special.



   Mr.  Cock was aquivering, bursting to get at Kristin's butt.  I gave him
the green light.  He plunged the six inches to her ass entrance in a
heartbeat; from there he mined into her yielding butthole like a diamond
drill-bit cutting through a seam of jello.  The shaft was completely sunk
into her ass-well in a matter of a few seconds, almost a record.  (Little
Megan with the pigtails was actually faster, but she cheated because she
had used vegetable oil.) Kristin shouted and halted her work for a moment
until the shaft was well and truly sunk, then she started back up with her
licking.  I worked her preteen ass for a few minutes, getting my cock
well-lubed with her gut juice.  Kristin groaned in pain, but the little
trouper continued to lick Amber's pussy, although she would sometimes stop
and raise her head, catching her breath as I completed whatever butt-fuck
motion had caught my fancy.



   I finally pulled out, rolling Kristin out of the way so I could get at
Amber.  I dropped my pants (no underwear) and kicked them away.  I sat down
a few feet in front of her, my legs outstretched and parted in front of me,
the grass tickling my ass.  Amber stared at me, past caring I think, as I
worked my way up, using my hands to push off the ground behind me.  Mr. 
Cock was all slimy with Kristin's shit and assorted juices, standing at
attention like a Swiss guard.  I marched Mr.  Cock quick-time up to Amber's
pussy, which beckoned the veteran soldier like the sirens of old.  I
wrapped my legs around the base of the tree, positioning my groin
underneath Amber's ass until my balls were touching the base itself.  Mr.
Cock was angled back toward me, pointing at my head, wondering what the
fuck I was doing taking him away from the warm wet interior of Kristin's
flexible asshole.  I wiggled my ass around until the position felt perfect,
our groins snugged up against each other.  I leaned back on my extended
arms, pressing my legs against the girth of the tree to lock myself into
position.



   As I gazed at Amber in this position for a few minutes, admiring my
handiwork, she began to struggle again, her fingers clutching at her toes
since there was nothing else to grab.  The dried cum on her face gave her a
kind of glow that made Mr.  Cock very jerky.  Her long curly chestnut hair
looked a bit straggly now, not like when I had first pulled her hood off.
Of course, you couldn't fault her for that, since she had no access to a
hairbrush, but still, she should have a little respect for the opinions of
others.



   I leaned towards the tree, placing my hands under Amber's ass, lifting
her little butt up into the air and holding it there with one hand while I
pushed Mr.  Cock's slimy head up to her pussy slot.  Mr.  Cock was getting
the idea now.  Thanks to Kristin's efforts, Amber's little outer pussy lips
were open and moist, the muscles within the inner lips relaxed a bit from
all the tongue action.  With Kristin's juices not yet dried on my cock, no
further lubrication would be necessary in my opinion.  Dr.  Cock concurred.
With my help, Mr.  Cock began groping around within the wet space of her
outer lips, looking for the key to the sanctuary.  After some very
persistent burrowing around, Mr.  Cock finally discovered where her little
pussy caved in just the slightest bit, a sure sign that the portal to
heaven was right there.  Looking Amber in the eyes, I pressed upward using
my legs and ass while gripping the trunk of the tree with my hands and arms
to help increase the leverage.  Mr.  Cock eagerly entered her extemely
tight channel, quickly running up against her virgin barrier.  One more
thrust and we were home, her hymen snapping like a broken rubberband inside
her, as St.  Cock and I entered the Kingdom of Pedophilia.  Two more
devoted worshippers could not be found throughout the land.



   Amber screamed in my ears a few times as Mr.  Cock took her full
measure. After a couple of false starts, Mr.  Cock and I caught a good
rhythm, hunching her pussy with abandon, Amber's back sliding up and down
against the rough tree bark.  She was awake the whole time, her head
jangling on her shoulders, her eyes half open, her nose bleeding a bit, as
drool dripped slowly off her chin.  It didn't take long, not with the
warm-up I had had with Kristin.  I felt my cum spurt deep inside her, her
brown eyes opening fully with each burst as though I had just woken her up.
When I was done I just sat there for awhile, Amber's head resting on my
shoulder.  I finally reclined back into the grass, staring up through the
branches at the brilliant blue sky, Amber's torn panties waving above like
a flag of surrender.  The now sleeping Mr.  Cock slithered out of Amber's
cum-chamber.  This was the perfect day.  Then I felt a raspy tongue on my
ball sac.  It was Kristin, licking up the mixture of cum and blood like a
kitten laps up cream.  What a girl.  And Amber, too.  I think I'll keep
them both.





   Preteen Bound Ch.  6



   Written by Bozo Da Klown





   Six-year-old Miranda savored the six-inch, cherry-flavored candy sucker
that resembled a grown man's erect cock down to the last detail, including
a mushroom-shaped head and upraised veins.  Her wet young lips glistened
with the red sticky stuff, some of which was smeared around her mouth,
making it look as if she had hastily applied her lipstick without a mirror.
She sucked the candy phallus completely into her mouth and throat, her
cheeks hollowing with the effort.  Moaning ever so gently, hands folded in
her lap, her eyelids half-shut, she closed her full lips around the base so
that only the wooden holding stick was visible.  She loved the shape and
touch of the cock, even if it was only candy.  She of course much preferred
the real thing.  She imagined for a moment that it was her master's cock.
She could feel and taste the gamy, fleshy fuckstick that she craved so
much, especially when he shoved his seven-inch cock into her preteen mouth
immediately after reaming her little ass.  That was her favorite time, when
her master let her suck and lick the brown-streaked cum off of his
deflating cock.  She could feel a tingle begin in her little pussy as she
continued daydreaming about real cocksucking while deep-throating the candy
dick.



   Even without the peculiar sucker, she presented quite a sight to anyone
who happened to pass near the park bench where she was sitting.  For
starters, the way she was dressed was certain to attract men, especially
ones who would love to dip their cocks into her hot honey-pot pussy.  The
electric-blue silk peasant blouse she wore fully exposed her flawless,
creamy shoulders.  Her knee-length black leather skirt partially covered
her exquisitely crafted legs--the kind that any pedophile would love to
have wrapped around his head while he tongued her juicy hairless slit.  Her
black fishnet stockings, attached to a garter belt, and three-inch black
spiked heels, produced the desired image that she knew made men's cocks
instantly hard.  There were other attractions as well.  Her long
bleached-blonde hair had been brushed until it shone as it cascaded around
her soft bare shoulders.  Her mascara had run a little bit because it was a
warm day, but this only served to further accentuate her long false
eyelashes and deep-blue eyes.  She was gorgeous by any standard.  The heavy
make-up made her appear easy and sluttish, an image seldom projected by
little girls, at least outside of a children's beauty contest.  She was a
slender girl with just the beginnings of an hour-glass shape.  No hint of
fat anywhere.  Her milky-white skin was soft and vibrant, which sharpened
the contrast with her dark erotic clothing.  She was a little girl-fuck
waiting to happen.



   Which was exactly the impression she wanted to give a suitable male
adult, preferably rich, who happened to pass by.  Her master had chosen
this park, and the bench location within it, as the best spot to troll for
a certain type of man.  The bench was located under several large, shady
trees thirty feet from the nearest sidewalk.  She was far enough away from
the pedestrian traffic that she wasn't obvious, but close enough for her to
attract attention when she wanted to.  With her beautiful little legs
crossed at the ankles and swinging suggestively, she had received a few
stares from both men and women in the hour that she had been there.  But no
one had quite fit the profile she was seeking, so she had made no effort to
entice them over.  It was noon on a work day, so there was still plenty of
time, since the lunchtime crowd was still streaming into the heavily
forested park from nearby office buildings.



   Her master was in his white van, which was parallel-parked on one of the
park roads fifty yards away.  Although she couldn't see him behind the
heavily tinted windows, she knew he was there, watching her intently.  She
didn't want to disappoint him.  The pain would be too much to bear.  At
first, after her master had kidnapped her from a park similar to this
one--but hundreds of miles away--she had been in shock and denial.  But the
intense and unrelenting sexual training she had gone through, coupled with
her need for adult authority, had, for the most part, made her docile,
accepting, and obedient.  She never thought about escape anymore.  She
rarely thought about her past life.  It was though it had been somebody
else's life, seen in a movie long ago.  She barely remembered her mother
and brother, even though it had only been a couple of months since she had
been taken.  Even her name was different now.  Her master had chosen
'Miranda' because he thought it had the right sluttish sound for the job
she was doing.  She no longer used or even thought of her real name:
Kristin.



   A tall, slender, middle-aged gentleman strolled by on the sidewalk
closest to the bench.  His expensive suit and the way he carried himself
indicated a man of substance, exactly the kind of man her master had
trained her to be on the lookout for.  To get his attention she moaned
loudly, which was no small trick with the candy cock still lodged deeply in
her throat.  He glanced over at her and then stopped dead in his tracks as
if he had just run into an invisible wall.  As he stared, she briefly
pulled her knees up under her chin, giving him a fleeting little girl
beaver shot.  That cinched it.  After hesitating a bit longer, he left the
sidewalk and approached the park bench directly, drawn to her as if by a
magnet.  She demurely avoided his gaze, a tactic she knew would make him
even more curious.  She was still new at this whoring game, but she also
knew that he was already swallowing the bait.  Now it was time to set the
hook.



   He stopped only a few feet from her.  "Mind if I sit here, young lady?"
he asked, a noticeable tremor in his voice.  She looked up, locking his
eyes, then slowly pulled the candy cock out of her mouth.  When the red
cockhead emerged from her wet lips with a soft popping noise, he took a
step back, clearly stunned by the dildo-sucker and her lewd behavior. 
Maintaining eye contact, in the sweetist, most coquettish little girl voice
she could muster, she said her well-rehearsed come-on line.  "Please do sit
with me.  I so enjoy a man's company." Still staring, he said thank you and
sat down to the left of her, on the other end of the short bench, leaving a
distance of a couple of feet between them.  The hook was now well and truly
set.  He just didn't know it yet.  She smiled and discreetly glanced
towards the van.  She watched as the windshield wipers kicked-over one
time, her master's signal that this one was a good catch.



   The man opened a brown paper bag and removed a sandwich.  He glanced
over at Miranda, who was now openly eyeing him, her gaze slowly moving up
and down his body.  She began licking the candy cockhead, the tip of her
little red-dyed tongue erotically toying with the sticky glans.  The man
had blushed when he first saw the candy cock, but his face was now even
redder.  "Would you like part of my sandwich?  I'm afraid it's only turkey
and mayonnaise," he said.  The preteen, well-coached in sexual innuendo,
replied sexily, "Thanks, I like turkey, but of course I'll eat any meat."
She slid over towards him until she was only inches away.  "You don't mind
if I sit next to you, do you?" she purred.  "Of course not, be my guest,"
he somehow managed to get out.  The paper bag on his lap rose slightly as
his cock began to swell, which did not go unnoticed by the ever cock-hungry
Miranda.



   The man had seen her from a distance and had been immediately curious
about the oddly dressed young girl.  Then when she had pulled that cherry
dick-sucker out of her mouth he had been totally shocked.  Now with her so
close--licking that unbelievable sucker--he suddenly found himself becoming
aroused.  Where would a little girl get something like that?  More
importantly, why was all this turning him on?  She was only a little girl,
not more than six or seven.  He found that he was past the intial shock and
wonderment about her.  He was amazed, instead, to find that he was actually
beginning to calculate his chances with her.  What exactly was this little
girl up to?  Where were her parents?  Could it be that she was going to
proposition him?  And how would he respond if she did?  After all, he was a
mature, sensible man, respected in his profession and community.  Would he
agree to it if the opportunity arose?  Here in the middle of a goddamn
public park?  What if a colleague or friend walked by and noticed them
talking here?  What if someone he knew were to come over.  What would he
say?  Jesus.  He decided to wait just a little while longer.  After all,
nothing had happened.  He was just sharing his lunch with her.



   They quietly munched on their sandwiches for awhile.  Miranda's bites
left red teeth marks on the white bread.  "What's your name?" he inquired.
"Miranda.  What's yours?" she said, as she brushed some bread crumbs off of
her leather skirt, which had inched up slightly higher than mid-thigh,
revealing more of her fishnet stockings.  A garter belt clasp holding the
stocking on her right thigh was visible "Just call me Dan," he replied. 
"Are you here by yourself?" he continued, looking around.  A seemingly
innocent but obviously leading question, no doubt about it.  The little
preteen slut knew exactly how to answer this question.  "Yeah, I had lunch
with my dad here, but he had to go back to work.  I have to wait here until
five o'clock when he gets off." A pause as this new and exciting piece of
information sank in.  "Aren't you a little young to be by yourself all that
time?" Dan asked, a little too excitedly, liking the answers she was giving
him.  "Oh, I find things to do," she said, giggling.  "I have a nice little
hiding place in the park here that nobody knows about, not even my dad.  I
can go back in there and do anything I want and nobody will know," she
added, winking at him.  "Really?" he gulped.  "Yeah, you want to see?" she
said, placing her left hand high up on his thigh.  "M-m-maybe later," Dan
lamely choked out.  God, it seemed like it was getting hotter, Dan thought
to himself, as he wiped his forehead with a napkin.



   "Mind if I see what else you have in this little ol' bag, Danny?"
Miranda asked, sweet as apple pie.  Not waiting for a reply, she put her
sandwich down, leaned towards him, and with her right hand reached into the
paper bag perched on his lap.  The lacey front of her off-the-shoulder
blouse opened enough, as she knew it would, to enable Dan to see down the
top.  He felt a flutter in his stomach as his gaze fixed on her flat white
chest.  For some reason, it totally turned him on.  Although he had never
even thought about sex with a child before, this little girl had changed
all of that in an instant.  Against all his moral precepts, he couldn't
help but think that he would love to fuck this preteen in her hiding place
in the park.  Peering closer as she fumbled in the paper bag, he could see
a glint of something metallic against her creamy skin inside the dark
recesses of her blouse.  A nipple ring?  His cock jerked in his pants.



   She pulled out a bag of chips and a candy bar, placing both of them on
the bench.  "I'm looking for some more meat," she announced emphatically.
"You got any sausages or anything like that in here?" Her hand rummaged in
the bottom of the now empty sack, the movement causing his cock to twitch
uncontrollably.  He was paralyzed by a combination of excitement and fear,
and not least by the fact that her little hand had now poked through the
bottom of the bag and had grasped his turgid cock through the lining of his
suit pants.  "Wow, I just hit the jackpot!  You do have a big piece of meat
after all.  Why didn't you tell me sooner, you bad boy," she cooed, leering
up at him while running her tongue over her red sticky lips.



   Dan quickly looked around to be sure no one was watching them.  No one
was.  This was definitely over the line.  He really ought to push her away
and leave right now.  Sensing his reaction, Miranda dispensed with the
wordplay and immediately launched into the dirty talk that she had been
taught by her master.  "I just love the feel of your cock, Danny" she said,
running her hand up and down its clothed length, the paper sack hiding her
hand action from anyone who might happen to glance over.



   Dan was too shocked to say or do anything.  He just stared at her.  He
felt her nimble fingers as they sought and opened his zipper, listened to
his own ragged breathing as her small hand passed through the gap and
slipped under the elastic band of his underwear, marveled at her dexterity
as she deftly manuevered his fat lengthening cock into the paper bag where
she slowly began giving him a handjob, her little fingers not quite long
enough to curl completely around the swollen head.  Putting her left hand
behind his neck, she pulled his head down towards her own until she could
get her mouth next to his ear.  "Danny, honey, I need your cock so very,
very badly.  I can almost feel it in my little girl pussy already." She
breathed hotly into his ear, running her sticky tongue deep within and then
withdrawing it, moaning her little girl moan as she did so, then repeating
the motion over and over as she continued to talk dirty and toy with his
bagged cock.  He nearly creamed right then.  Along with the hook and the
line, Danny-boy had just swallowed the sinker.



   "God that feels good," he sputtered, as she rubbed his glans with her
thumb.  "I can make you feel even better, if you want," she said coyly,
pulling away from his ear and glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.
"You mean go back to your hiding place," he panted out, as the sensations
of her silky hand on his cock pounded into his skull.  "Yeah, we can go
back there in a little while and you can fuck me all afternoon.  I even
have some rope you can tie me up with.  I would love for you to tie me up
and fuck me silly.  But I have another idea right now." Her words nearly
made him come.  He was past caring whether someone might notice what they
were up to.  Little groans escaped from his throat as she expertly massaged
his cock.  She stopped often enough to keep him from coming right away. 
Her master had trained her well.  She had been so proud the day he told her
that she was the best six-year-old slut in the whole wide world.



   She flicked his earlobe with the tip of her tongue, leaving him in
suspense about her idea, then continued: "I was thinking that I could
slow-fuck you right here.  I really can't wait any longer.  My little pussy
is just sopping wet.  It needs your big hard cock stuffed into it right
now," she murmured in his ear.  She knew that she wasn't supposed to do
this on the bench, but she couldn't help herself.  She needed a big cock to
fill her tight hungry pussy this very instant.  Besides, she would take
precautions to ensure that no one would suspect that they were actually
fucking.



   Dan was seeing stars.  His brain just couldn't register the full extent
of what was happening to him, the depths that he had fallen to.  The little
girl's hot breath and hotter talk had driven him over the brink.  All he
could think about was getting into her moist little pussy.  He was
completely under her spell.  He could no longer control his basest
impulses, even here in broad daylight in a public park.  She had bewitched
him and he was loving every minute of it.



   "Now, honey, you just stay where you are and let me do all of the work,
okay?" she whispered.  With that, she pulled her hand from the bag.  He
stared into her face as she brought both legs up under her and kneeled on
the bench, facing him from the side.  Satisfied that no one was watching
(except of course for her master, who was busy shooting a video of all the
action using a long-range telephoto lens), she extended her right leg and
swung it over his body, so that a pretty knee was on either side of his
lap. She now faced him, her flat little chest and stomach pressed against
his upper body.  The paper bag containing his pulsing cock was hidden
within the confines of her leather skirt.  She reached back and under her
skirt and adjusted his bagged cock so that it was positioned behind and
between the cheeks of her little ass.  His cock strained, feeling only the
harsh texture of the paper bag as it lay rigid against her body.  "Danny,
honey, I'm not wearing any panties.  Do you approve?  Do you think I'm a
bad little girl?" she laughed, throwing her head back and shaking her long
blonde hair from side-to-side.



   Dan was mesmerized as he gazed at her luscious preteen throat, watching
her tiny adam's apple bob up and down as she laughed.  With the same hand
she then slowly tore the paper bag completely off of his shrouded cock, the
ripping noise only slightly muffled by her skirt.  She threw the torn bag
on the ground in front of them.  "Now that's much better," she said. 
There's nothing between your big huge cock and my little tiny pussy.  What
do you intend to do about it?" she gently teased.  "I want to f-fuck you
here and now," he managed to get out, feeling stupid as he said it, knowing
that she was already completely in charge.  "Let me think about it," she
giggled.  We just met, you know.  Do you think I'm easy or something?" She
was really playing the cocktease now, which just aroused him all the more.



   He could feel her baby-soft skin as he slowly moved his hips upward, his
cockhead rubbing against the base of her spine and along the bumps of her
lower backbone, and then crossing over the roughness of her elastic garter
belt high up on her waist before finally lodging under the waistband of her
skirt.  "Now, baby, listen to me, it's important that you not move,
otherwise someone might see us and think something funny is going on here,"
she whispered into his ear.  "You let me do everything, no matter what,
okay?" He stopped moving his hips.  He would do whatever she told him to
do. "Most people will think you are my father and we are just playing
together here on the bench." She slowly began grinding her hips.  His
cockhead was leaking precum, leaving viscous trails across her lower back.
"I need to be in you right now," he said, groaning.  "In a minute, honey.
Believe me, I'm going to fuck your brains out," she said softly, groaning
back.  "First I want you to taste me."



   She reached under the front of her leather skirt and sank three little
fingers all of the way into her dripping preteen cunt.  Part of her
lubrication was natural, but because she was so young, she had to have
additional help.  When they had arrived at the park in the van, her master
had filled her pussy with a scented sexual lubricant that tasted like
strawberries.  It had mixed nicely with her own natural juices.  After
dipping her fingers into her saturated cunt several times, she removed them
and traced three shiny trails from his left ear to his mouth.  "Open up,
honey, I've got a sweet treat for you," she burbled.  Dan opened his mouth
and sucked in her three tiny fingers to the knuckles.  He laved them with
his tongue, lapping up every drop of her succulent strawberry pussy juice.
"That's right, baby.  Suck my pussy juice all gone," she intoned, as if she
were encouraging a baby to finish its food.  Dan's every sense was in full
arousal.  The fruity taste of her pussy juice.  The scent of her wicked
french perfume.  The touch of her soft ass and back on his cock.  The sight
of her beautiful childish face so close to his own.  And, not least, the
melodious little girl-sound of her voice as she talked about cocks and
pussies.



   "I'm going to c-come any minute, Miranda," he blurted.  "Please let me
get inside you first," he begged.  "Okay, honey, you've been a good little
boy and deserve to have some little girl pussy now," she whispered, barely
able to control her own feelings.  She needed his cock as much as he needed
her pussy.  Her master had made sure that she had developed a love for
cock. She couldn't conceive of a life without it.  She couldn't even go a
day without it.  The master had fucked her hard just a few hours before
coming to the park, but she needed more, and she needed it now.



   Looking carefully around, she saw several people in their general area,
some strolling on the sidewalk, some sitting on the grass.  But no one was
paying any attention to them, half-hidden as they were in the leafy
shadows. Good, she thought.  "Now, Danny-honey, you are going to get the
freshest, sweetest, wettest little girl pussy there is," she chimed.  She
rose up on her knees, feeling his cockhead slid downward along the cleft of
her ass until it was wedged between the top of her inner thighs, his
pisshole snugged up against her asshole.  She thought briefly about taking
him in her ass, but then thought better of it since she was not as
well-lubricated there.  "It's yours now, baby, Miranda's sweet little girl
pussy is all yours, darling," she cooed into his ear.  She ran her left
hand through the hair at the back of his head, softly scraping her
fingernails along the base of his neck, as her master had taught her to do.
Using only her hips, she expertly positioned his cockhead at the entrance
to her little pussy.  "Do you feel my little wet pussy, darling?" she said,
blowing softly into his ear.  Dan could feel it alright.  She wiggled her
hips until she could feel the tip of his cockhead pass through her outer
pussy lips and lodge at the entrance to her slickened tunnel.  His entire
body trembled as she began slowly lowering her wet spongy pussy onto his
swollen cockhead, her leather skirt barely hiding the slow impalement from
view.



   Dan was on fire, and the fire was burning brightest where his cock
entered the wet velvet sheath of Miranda's little girl pussy.  By fractions
of an inch he entered her incredibly tight, steamy interior as she slowly
sat on his cock.  He longed to give her a deep tongue-kiss, but she avoided
his mouth, knowing that such a display would attract attention from others.
She would stop her very slow downward movement every few seconds and raise
up a bit, to better prepare her quivering pussy for the next downward step.
"Do you like it, baby, do you like my little pussy?" she crooned, "I love
your cock soooo much...its filling my guts, Danny, ooooh, aaaaah, oh god
its so huge, baby, ummmmmm," she moaned, her breath catching from time to
time as his cock slowly penetrated into her preteen body.  He was big, she
thought, bigger than her master.  But she could handle it.  If she could
take those two guys at the truck stop, who had filled her throat and ass
with gigantic cocks, this was going to be a piece of cake--or, more to the
point, a piece of little girl ass.  And she really was a lovely piece of
preteen ass, she thought to herself.  There wasn't a man in the world who
would turn down fucking her little pussy if he thought he could get away
with it.  Especially someone as willing as herself.  As she thought this,
she continued talking dirty to her new lover.  She was about to give him
the fuck of his life.



   Dan was in heaven.  The little slut's vice-tight pussy felt hot and
squishy.  He was doing everything in his power to keep from coming, to keep
the feeling going a little bit longer.  Never had it been this good.  Not
with his wife, not the first time he had sex, never.  And she hadn't even
started really fucking him yet!  My god, she hadn't even fully impaled
herself yet!  He looked into Miranda's liquid blue eyes and could see the
twinkle, the eagerness, the lust, as the six-year-old absorbed his cock
into her little girl body.  God, she was good.  An exquisite pussy to die
for.  Her little girl moans were driving him mad as she continued to lower
herself, the walls of her fiery wet preteen pussy clasping at his
steel-hard shaft.  He could feel her lithe body shudder against him as she
prepared to take his full length.



   Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he could feel her hot tight
pussy ring sucking at the base of his cock.  She worked the muscles as she
smiled, rolling her eyes back into her skull like a little girl possessed,
releasing little oohs and ahhs from her open mouth with each spasm of her
pussy muscles.  "Oh, Danny, Danny, give it to me, baby, give me all you
got...ummmmm--yeahhhh, oh god, oh god, your cock feeeeels soooo fuuuucking
goooood, baby" she repeated over and over in her low, husky little girl
voice.  She ground her pubis against the base of his cockshaft, feeling her
hairless pussy lips crush his coarse pubic hair against skin and bone.  As
she continued milking him with her hips, she could even feel the zipper
lining of his pants on the tender outer flesh of her pussy lips.  It felt
wonderful in a rough sort of way.  God she loved his cock, the way his huge
shaft expanded in her body, filling every nook, every empty space inside of
her.  His cockhead was just now slightly poking through her cervix, probing
at the entrance to her womb.  The pleasure overwhelmed the pain.  In fact,
the pain was blending in with the pleasure.



   As she ground her little cunt, they both could hear wet squelching
noises rise up from below, exactly timed with her hip movements, all
generated by the wet friction of their cock-pussy union.  Inhaling the
strawberry scent of her own pussy juices, the little slut was driven to
grind her ass even more, rotating it clockwise, then reversing direction,
first slowly, then faster, then slower again.  They smiled at each other
with the knowledge that they were slow-fucking openly in the park.  Her
preteen pussy and his large cock were all that mattered in the entire
universe.  "God, Danny, you are the best...I just loooove your big ol' cock
soooo much," she exclaimed, working herself into a lather, sweat beading on
her face and streaking through her make-up.  Her dainty mouth hung open,
tongue lolling, as she sucked air in spurts.  God she loved the way his
cock skewered her little body.  She wanted to grind and bounce on his slimy
flagpole all fucking day.



   And then Danny-boy came like he had never come before.  The pressure had
been building deep in his balls for the last ten seconds; it had now grown
so great that it was beginning to hurt.  Then there was temporary relief as
a small jet of precum pumped through his cock, rippling upwards, sending
goosepimples down his back.  A gap of a few seconds followed as the
pressure again built.  Then the dam broke, the intense pleasure radiating
throughout his entire body as his cock erupted in geysers of cum deep
within the little preteen's guts.  Miranda felt the awesome spasming of his
cock within the wet grip of her stretched pussy.  "Oh yeah, honey, fill me
up with your cum, baby, do it, do it...  oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah," she
encouraged him, like some kind of preteen cheerleader at a fuckfest.



   Then Danny really lost control.  Forgetting both her warning and where
he was, he began pumping his cock into her like a madman.  His hips were
shoving upwards from the bench so powerfully, his huge cock lancing about
within her so deeply, that she suddenly had this horrible vision of his
cock spearing through her stomach, emerging into the bright sunlight like
some sort of unblinking alien creature, spewing its white vomit on
everything.  He had his hands on her shoulders, forcing her down, while
pounding upward from below.  It was all she could do to hang onto his neck
while her bluesuited bucking bronco sprayed cum throughout her insides. 
After what seemed like minutes, he finally stopped.  Miranda could feel his
cum, reheated by her cunt, draining out of her little pussy and onto his
suit pants.  Her little body could not even begin to hold it all.  She
looked around to see if anyone was watching.  Fortunately for the both of
them, the noise and movement had not attracted attention.



   "You were supposed to let me do all the work, remember?" Miranda chided
the now motionless Danny-boy.  She was disappointed because she had been so
close to having her own orgasm.  Well, there was always the woods.  She
figured Danny was good for another fuck or two.  Besides, her master needed
some undeniable fuck action on video.  "All the same," she continued,
shifting back to a sultry voice, "that was really great, lover.  But it's
nothing compared to what I have in store for you back in my hiding place."
Dan had shot his wad, but as far as he was concerned, he would keep doing
this until she took her little girl pussy away.  Although he had just come,
he could feel his cock begin to restiffen at her words.  He wasn't through
yet.  He remembered what she had said earlier about tying her up.  God, the
little bitch owned him.



   She looked into her lover's eyes and told him it was now time for him to
take her to her special hiding place, where he could fuck her to his
heart's content for as long as he wanted to.  She told him it wasn't
necessary to pull out.  Just stand up and she would wrap her legs around
his waist.  He could carry her, joined at the crotch, to her little hiding
spot.  Her leather skirt would prevent anyone from seeing his large cock
embedded in her preteen cunt.  He was so swayed by this little slut and her
perfect pussy that he didn't think twice about her request, or how it might
look to any observers.  He simply stood up, wavered slightly before
catching his balance, and began walking in the direction she indicated,
into the woods behind the bench, his little preteen slut's fingers locked
around the back of his neck while still clutching her candy cock, her
beautiful little legs wrapped tightly around his waist, her lively little
pussy wetly joggling his cum-slickened cock with every footstep.



   As the two lovers disappeared into the woods, Ron sat in his van making
his own preparations for doing the exact same thing.  He stopped his
camcorder and put it into a carrying case along with a 9mm handgun.  You
never knew when a potential blackmail victim might turn violent,
particularly when the leverage is based on a videotape of one of the most
despised crimes in the Western world.  Little girl-fucking (twelve and
under), although seldom encouraged, is often tolerated in many cultures
past and present, but it is uniformly condemned in this country.  Unless of
course it is incest.  Then for some reason, the crime isn't as severe if a
member of the family is fucking the girl.  Society prefers to sweep this
kind of little girl-fucking under the rug rather than to openly acknowledge
and condemn it.  Worst case--and it usually doesn't get to this
point--society removes the little girl from the family and slaps the wrist
of the offender, as if to say that taking the child away is punishment
enough.  On the other hand, sex between an unrelated adult and a child is a
wholly different story.  Someone accused of it can never completely shake
the stigma, even if the accusations are later shown to be untrue.  When you
have visual documentary evidence, a man can see his life go down the drain
in an instant.  Thus the need for the gun.



   As Ron waited several more minutes to allow them time to get to the
hiding place, his thoughts again turned to Miranda.  She had become a great
little whore, maybe the best he had ever trained, but she had recently
demonstrated a promiscuity that was breathtaking.  She would literally fuck
any man, any time she could get away with it.  She had turned into a little
nympho.  The way she had so quickly seduced that total stranger on the park
bench attested to that.  She was supposed to do that out of the public eye,
not in plain daylight for anyone to see.  She knew better than to
jeopardize all of their efforts in that way.  What the hell was she
thinking?  Thinking with her little pussy again, that's what.  That just
wouldn't do.  He would have to punish her later.  She had to learn to
suppress these urges, or he might eventually pay the penalty for it himself
in ways he didn't like to imagine.  Prison time wasn't the problem. 
Prisoners were.  Especially big ones with big cocks who would love to
enlarge the asshole of a convicted pedophile.



   Locking the van door, Ron shouldered the carrying case and lazily ambled
toward the woods, stopping and looking about occasionally to be sure that
no one was watching him.  Once in the trees, he quickly jogged toward the
prearranged spot.  The tryst location was perfect, at least one hundred
yards deep into the woods, far enough that the sounds of a man fucking a
little girl, who might moan or even scream--in ecstasy or pain, it didn't
really matter--would not be detected by others in the park, unless of
course they were in the woods too, which seldom happened.  As he neared the
spot, he could hear the grunting sounds of a large animal, accompanied by a
rhythmic slapping noise.  He stopped and listened intently.  He could also
hear, almost out of audible range, a sliding-scale muffled moan which he
knew from experience was Miranda in the throes of sexual passion.  Even
though she was only six, she could and did have orgasms, and multiple ones
at that.  He knew that the sound he was hearing was her pre-climax buildup
to an exploding supernova orgasm.  Shit, they were already going at it! 
She had broken every goddamn rule today.  She knew she was supposed to wait
until he arrived before she was to begin fucking the guy.  God, she was
going to get it after this.



   He stealthily snaked his way through some thick bushes until he found
his pre-scouted spot only ten feet away from them.  He had picked this spot
because it gave him a great view while hiding him completely from theirs.
He got into position on his knees and quickly removed the camcorder from
the case.  Since they were already fucking, there was no point in giving
her the signal that he was there.  (By prearrangement, he was to place his
foot in a spot where she could see it.  Once she saw it, she was supposed
to speak an innocent codephrase to indicate she knew he was there, after
which she could begin fucking the guy.) The best he could hope for now was
that he got enough on video before the guy either finished or came to his
senses and ran off.



   He had been so busy preparing up to this point that he hadn't yet looked
at the two lovers.  When he raised the camcorder to his eye to begin
filming, the image that appeared in the viewfinder nearly bowled him over.
He knew that Miranda had developed a strong fetish for ropes and bondage,
which made sense after all the time she had spent trussed-up and hanging
from the van roof--among other fun and games--but this was getting
downright ridiculous.  Although he had stashed varying lengths of
quarter-inch rope for light bondage purposes, he never thought she would go
this far.  Somehow she had convinced this guy to bind her wrists and ankles
together in front of her, in the same way a calf's four hooves are tied
together by a cowboy at a rodeo.  An additional rope had been securely tied
around her knees, binding her legs tightly.  Then a long length of rope had
been thrown over a sturdy branch that was about nine feet above the ground
and the two dangling ends were tied to the bindings around her wrists and
ankles, securing her in such a way that she was suspended in mid-air three
feet above the forest floor at cock level, her legs and arms stretched
ramrod-straight and joined together at a point, her back facing the ground.
The immediate impression was of a little girl who had been accidentally
snared by a rope-trap intended for a forest animal.



   Her still-clothed body now hung nearly parallel to the ground.  Since
her arms were shorter than her legs, her head and shoulders were several
inches higher in the air than her ass.  Her head was dangling backwards,
her long blond hair swinging free several inches above the forest floor. 
Her beautiful soft white neck, stretched by gravity, looked completely
vulnerable.  Her mouth was wide-open and had been partially stuffed with
the wide part of the guy's balled-up blue necktie.  The narrow end of the
tie passed over her nose and between her eyes, falling short of the ground
by a foot or so.  Her leather skirt was bunched around her waist, and her
peasant blouse had been partially ripped open.  Red scratch marks were
visible on her flat white chest.  Both large nipple rings glinted in the
shadowy light.  Some of her garter belt straps had lost their grip on the
fishnet stockings and now hung loosely, swinging in time with the man's
powerful fuckstrokes.  The stockings themselves were ruined, having been
torn in several places.  Her tiny spiked heels lay among the leaves on the
ground.  He could now clearly hear her muffled moans.



   The half-naked man stood behind her.  His suit pants and underwear were
pooled around his ankles.  He had removed his suit jacket, but had left on
his unbuttoned shirt.  His large cock was gliding effortlessly in and out
of Miranda's swollen hairless cunt.  Using one hand to grip her tightly
bound legs, he would pull her into him while simultaneously popping his
hips forward like a pile driver into her unresisting body.  The slap of his
groin against the back of her upper legs and ass filled the air as the
leaves shook on the branch above.  He was sweating heavily as he stared
down at the pussy-cock juncture.  He would slowly withdraw his glistening
cock, watching as the purple cockhead came nearly all of the way out, and
then he would slam it home, hard, back into its wet preteen burrow.



   Ron noticed that every once in awhile the man would reach down and do
something to Miranda's ass with his other hand, but he wasn't sure what it
was.  He zoomed the camera in on her butt.  Now he knew.  He could plainly
see the holding stick of her candy cock protruding from her asshole.  The
man would occasionally grab the stick and move it in a large circle,
working her ass as if he were turning a crank.  At one point, he stopped
fucking her completely just so he could fully concentrate on buttfucking
her with her mouth sucker.  He would repeatedly pull it nearly all of the
way out and then thrust it back in.  The sight of that scarlet candy dildo
being rammed between her snow-white little asscheeks would be one of the
highlights of the video.  The ass-play was rewarded with passionate moans
from the little rope-bound slut.  She had always liked it in the ass, even
when her master had raped her there the first time.  While the man
continued fucking her pussy and playing with her candied ass, he would
frequently lower his head to bite and suck on the cluster of Miranda's
reddening fingers and toes.



   With little warning, Miranda suddenly erupted into one of her typical
orgasms that usually brought the walls down at home, but out here didn't
seem as loud because of the sound-deadening trees and bushes.  The necktie
of course blocked the shriller tones of her screams.  Having the man stuff
the necktie partway into her mouth had been a smart move, knowing as she
did that she tended to make a lot of noise when she was being fucked hard.



   He filmed them for five minutes more before the man began picking up the
pace, grunting louder and slamming into her even harder.  He suddenly
withdrew from her pussy and moved quickly around to Miranda's hanging head,
nearly stumbling as he shuffled through the leaves.  Stroking his angry
swollen cock, he yanked the necktie out of her mouth.  Miranda snapped her
mouth shut, knowing what was coming.  She liked being pussy- and
ass-fucked, but she really didn't want to be throat-fucked right now. 
Especially in this position, with no control at all.  He could choke her to
death and not know he was doing it.  But it didn't appear she had any
choice.  Dan just pried her jaws open and shoved the purple bulbous
cockhead into her preteen face-hole.  He heard her feeble protests before
the invading cock shut off her windpipe, but he was past caring.  He
suddenly had an urge to hurt this little wanton bitch.  "You fucking little
whore," he hissed, slapping her cheek with an open palm.  Miranda's eyes
were now fearfully darting about as she anticipated a severe
throat-fucking. Since her head was hanging down at a right angle to her
body, the man had a straight shot at filling her throat with his meat. 
With one quick shuffle forward, he buried his cock completely.  He was so
far in that not even the base of his large prick was visible.  Miranda's
face was now partially obscured by the guy's draping hairy ballsack and
dense pubic hair.



   Reaching around her upstretched arms, the man grasped both large nipple
rings with the index finger and thumb of each hand and lifted straight up,
tenting her milky skin an inch above her chest.  It must have hurt like
hell, but Ron wasn't interested in stopping the action since it was going
to be great on film.  Ron had fitted her with the heavy-duty nipple rings
several weeks before.  Since the little girl's nipples were so tiny, it
didn't make sense to pierce them, so he had decided to pierce her nearly
invisible aureolae at the edges.  There was at least a half-inch of flesh
and muscle between the two entry points of each stainless steel ring.  It
had taken several days for her body to adjust.  But now the rings were
secure enough to hold her own body weight.



   The man would pull the nipple rings up sharply and then release them,
watching them snap back.  He repeated this action over and over, marveling
each time at her body's response.  Whenever he yanked up hard, little
Miranda's body seized-up as though she had been shocked by an unseen
electrical wire.  When he let go, her body would collapse back downward
again.  Then he began turning the rings as he pulled them up, stretching
her chest skin into narrow twisted tepees.  The little girl jerked in her
bindings like a frantic insect trapped in a spider web, as he continued
twisting the stretched flesh until her chest looked like two pulls of white
taffy.  Miranda's whole body spasmed and shuddered as he feverishly
manipulated her now bloody nipple rings like radio dials.  All the while,
he pounded her face, seesawing his cock deep into the wet pink cavern of
her mouth and throat.  Noticing the small amount of blood around her
nipples, he ripped her peasant blouse completely off and then dipped his
fingers into the two little red pools on her chest.  He smiled as he began
fingerpainting crimson doodles all over the canvas of her flat chest and
stomach.  In the short space of thirty minutes or so, he had been
transformed from a respectable, refined gentleman into a little girl
torturer.



   A few seconds later the man shouted once and then shoved his cock all of
the way into her throat while holding her head steady with his hands.  The
nipple-blood on his fingers left red fingerprints on her bluish-white
cheeks and neck.  The little girl bucked wildly as she apparently was
having a hard time getting any air.  He began trembling violently as he
unloaded his ball juice inside the little girl's head.  He held this
position for a few moments as he continued pumping his load into the
squirming preteen.  Although little Miranda had no choice but to try and
swallow it all, as could be seen by her bobbing throat, some of the thick
copious cum had leaked from her mouth and was now slow-dripping onto the
forest floor.  Ron zoomed-in his camcorder to get first a shot of Miranda,
her blood-marked ashen face stuffed to the gills with cock, and then of the
very satisfied face of the man, who soon would be feeling a completely
different set of emotions.



   As the man withdrew his cock and began roughly face-slapping her with
it--the cum dribbling down into her hair like white tears--Ron silently
emerged from his hiding place.  He had tucked the gun in the back of his
waistband, just in case it was needed.  He picked up speed the last few
feet, blindsiding him with his shoulder.  The guy collapsed like a deflated
ballon.  He lay on his back among the scattered leaves, staring upwards as
if he had just woken up from a deep sleep.  He didn't put up a fight or try
to run away.  With his suit pants around his ankles he certainly wasn't
going to be able to do either very effectively.



   Ron sat on his chest, using his knees to pin the guy's upper arms just
in case he got any ideas.  "Just shut-up and listen," Ron began.  "I have
you on video fucking this fine, very underage, young lady.  A very nice
video it is, I might add.  Nice touch with the bondage and all.  In fact, I
intend to send you a copy so that you can see how wonderful it really is. I
hope you enjoyed today's festivities, because it could cost you several
years in the Big House, where little girl-fuckers aren't appreciated, if
you know what I mean." He stopped talking for a moment to let it all sink
in.  "The way I see it, you really have only two choices.  First
choice--and this is the choice I recommend--you make a substantial
financial contribution to my save-the-children foundation, or, second
choice--and I don't think you will like this as much--you can expect to
have your ass passed around at Club Fed for a very long time.  You
following all of this, old buddy?  I'll give you a couple of seconds to
think it over."



   Dan had never felt so humiliated and stupid.  This little girl had
enticed him into the fuck of the century, and now he might be fucked for a
century, literally, or at the least, financially.  This whole thing had
been nothing but an elaborate shakedown.  Christ, what a fool he was. 
There wasn't much he could do now.  He assumed the guy was armed, so there
was no point trying to break free.  And even if he did get away, the video
would find its way to him eventually.  Still, despite the fact that this
guy now held the power to ruin his life, he couldn't help but gaze over at
the preteen slut still bound, bleeding, and suspended from the tree,
swaying gently in the breeze.  God she had been good.  It was almost worth
whatever this man was going to put him through just to have the memory of
this time with her.  And the guy did say he was going to send him a copy of
the video.  Wouldn't have to rely solely on memory after all.  In a shaky
voice he said: "Choice number one sounds reasonable to me."



   Ron smiled.  Thank god it had turned out alright, despite Miranda's
screw-ups.  He even had some sympathy for this poor bastard, knowing that
little girls like Miranda are simply irresistible when they look and act
like the whore she had become.  Nevertheless, business was business.  He
would milk this guy, but he would not push him too hard or too long.  When
someone is being blackmailed, it was best to get as much as you could
upfront, early-on, before he had time to stew on it and maybe do something
that would be counterproductive to the blackmailer's best interests.  Take
him for a quick ride now and then disappear out of his life altogether. 
Ron retrieved the man's wallet, removing his driver's license and other
identifying information.  He told Dan he would be in touch, and that if he
got any ideas about going to the cops, several copies of the incriminating
tape would be sent to such interested parties as the police, his workplace,
and of course his wife.



   A more bedraggled, pathetic figure could not be imagined as Dan slowly
dressed himself and began picking his way out of the woods, back to a world
that for him had changed completely and irrevocably.  As a consolation, he
still had his memories of the best two fucks he had ever had, both from the
same little girl at that.  And don't forget the video.  He'd be jacking-off
to that for a long time to come.  Who knows, now that he was hooked on
little girl pussy, he might be able to create a business venture out of it
somehow.  A preteen whorehouse, perhaps, staffed by kidnapped little girls
(and boys?) and little runaways.  Catering only to exclusive clientele. 
Something to think about.  By the time he emerged from the woods, he was
already starting to walk taller.



   As Miranda listened to her master talking to Dan, she began to feel
intense pain in her extremities and chest.  While Dan had been fucking her,
the pain hadn't been too noticeable because of the pleasure she had been
feeling.  But now it just plain hurt.  The inexperienced Dan had made the
bindings too tight.  And the crazy Dan that had appeared near the end had
intentionally hurt her chest much more than she had expected.  Still, she
felt sorry for him, but she wasn't going to dwell on that.  He was going to
be paying the bills for awhile, so the master should be happy with her. 
She had put Dan up to binding her in this crazy way.  He had just wanted to
do the straight old missionary position, but she was tired of that and
needed something new and exciting.  But it had been very scary when Dan was
throat-fucking her so savagely.  Then to top it off, she couldn't believe
that he would twist and pull her nipple rings so viciously.  She had tried
to scream, but the fat cock buried deep in her throat had prevented her. 
All in all, though, everything had turned out for the best in the end.  She
had even gotten off.



   A little black cloud drifted across her sex-addled mind as she suddenly
remembered that she had broken two rules: fucking in the public eye, and
fucking before she got the signal.  Hopefully, her master would overlook or
forgive these sins since everything had turned out so well.  While she was
having these thoughts, she suddenly felt the candy cock pop out of her ass.
She would retrieve it later, after she was released.  She needed it back in
her mouth.  She so loved her candy cock pacifier.



   As Dan disappeared into the trees, Ron turned to his little captive
whore, her literal and figurative fuck-ups weighing on his mind.  She hung
there, smiling, asking if she had done okay.  He smiled back, sighing.  He
wasn't really going to enjoy this, and he knew damn well she wouldn't.





   Preteen Bound, ch.7

   M/f pedo kidnap bdsm







   Amber wasn't feeling very well.  The six-year-old chestnut-haired beauty
was finding it difficult to breathe though her nose, since it was so close
to the cold cement floor.  But her mouth was of little use since it was
stuffed with a ball of socks, secured in place by a short strip of one-inch
wide duct tape.  Each little ankle and wrist was tied with a length of
quarter-inch silver nylon cord to one of four eighteen-inch-high iron posts
driven into the damp basement floor.  Each cord had been pulled through a
metal eye at the top of each post and secured with a slip knot, so that any
slack in the cord could be easily taken out.  Her limbs had been stretched
taut so that her body was in the spread-eagled position.  She had initially
been tied-up in this manner while lying face-down on a thick dirty mattress
placed on the floor between the posts.  But after she had been stretched,
the mattress had been removed, so that now her little body sagged several
inches above the concrete, her head almost touching it.  Her muffled
screams and red, perspiring face were evidence of the pain she was
suffering as her master lashed her sweet little bare preteen back, legs,
and ass with a cat-o-nine-tails.  She was getting a good old-fashioned
whipping.



   And she deserved it, thought Ron.  Ever since he had lured her into his
van on that old country road in front of her farmhouse, she had been
nothing but trouble.  Her attitude needed to be adjusted big-time, but
nothing seemed to work.  Compared to Miranda (formerly Kristin)--who had
been very easy to train into a submissive preteen sex slave--Amber had
shown remarkable resistance, and it certainly wasn't getting any better. 
Ron was literally at his wit's end as he stopped whipping her long enough
to unloosen the knot on the post tied to her right wrist.  He pulled the
cord tighter, drawing her body up another inch from the floor, then
resecured it.  He just didn't know what to do anymore.  She had been
flogged so many times in the past that his arm still ached from wielding
the whip.  But she was really getting it this time because of the stunt she
had pulled just a few hours before.



   The little bitch had tried to escape.  She had almost made it too, which
might have very well ended his career as a little-girl sex slave trainer.
That was an occupation that wasn't available in prison.  Quite the
contrary. If he did go to prison, he would be the one being trained as some
gang's slut-asshole, available for reaming day and night.  This thought
drove him to apply the tail even harder.  A little metal bead had been
woven into the end of each of the nine rubbery lashes.  As the little girl
bucked with every stroke, a new constellation of tiny red dots would appear
on her cream-colored skin.  Ron was careful not to create scars.  She was a
valuable commodity, and her value would go down if there was any sign of
scarring.  But the Big Cat--as he called his cat-o-nine-tails--could
inflict some serious pain.  Based on the spasmodic contortions of his
little preteen bitch, it was having that effect right now.  As Ron
continued the lashing--the Big Cat whistling through the air as he whipped
her helpless outstretched body--he thought again about the escape attempt.



   It had started innocently enough.  He had invited five friends over to
play with his pair of kidnapped six-year-old girls.  Four had shown up.  He
had brought the little girls upstairs from their basement prison.  The four
naked men sat in a circle on the living room carpet, surrounding the two
preteens as Ron filmed the action.  They played with their cocks as the two
little girls did whatever they were requested to do.  They were told to
french-kiss each other, play with each other's hairless puffy pussies,
perform a sixty-nine, suck each other's toes and eat each other's asses,
etc.  Just the regular, basic stuff.  Amber was listless, while Miranda was
clearly basking in the male attention.  Then the men got tired of watching
and started playing too.  Miranda had been very willing, fucking each man
as many times as he could get it up, and obviously enjoying every minute of
it.  Amber, on the other hand, had embarrassed Ron.  For instance, instead
of eagerly sucking a guy's cock like Miranda would, she would just roll her
eyes as the guy drilled her mouth and throat with his dick.  And instead of
swallowing his cum, she would hold as much of it in her mouth as she could,
and then make a big show of spitting it out.  This of course hurt the man's
feelings.  Ron hated to see his friends' egos bruised in this way.



   But these were minor things compared to the escape attempt.  The four
men had been fucking the little girls non-stop for about two hours and they
all needed some refreshments.  Amber had just been through a preteen
triple-drilling, as they called it, where she had taken a cock in every
hole.  One guy had laid face-up on the carpet and had placed little Amber
on top of him, positioned so that her back was pressed against his stomach,
her head on his chest, as he held her ankles and pulled her legs open and
back, exposing her asshole to his probing cock.  Miranda had then used both
hands to grease the guy's huge prick with some Crisco shortening.  Ever
helpful, Miranda had then positioned his cockhead at the point of entry
into Amber's ass, which enabled the man to corkscrew his cock into her
puckered asshole.  Amber screamed a few times.  She never had liked it in
the ass, or anywhere else for that matter.  Another man then lay on top of
Amber, positioning his hips between her open little legs.  He then lowered
his upper body so that it completely covered the preteen's body and head.
She was now the little girl meat in the proverbial sandwich.  Miranda
guided the man's cock to Amber's six-year-old hairless pussy.  He had
thrust into her body in one powerful surge.  The two cocks rubbed each
other through the thin fleshy lining between her asshole and pussy tunnel.
Both men humped her mercilessly, grunting with the effort, as they rammed
their cocks into her little body, pausing occasionally to synchronize their
rhythms.



   She couldn't help but cry out as they savagely fucked both holes.  It
was payback time for the way she had been treating them.  The third guy had
then gotten on his knees next to his hunching friends.  He reached in
between the hairy chests of the two frantically humping men, grabbed a
fistful of Amber's hair, and pulled Amber's little head out far enough so
that he could get his cock into her screaming mouth.  Her held her head
steady with his two vice-like hands as he plowed into her throat.  That had
shut her up.  They worked her over for ten minutes before pulling out and
spraying her with their cum.  Lying on the couch as motionless as a broken
ragdoll, she was one exhausted cum-drenched preteen slut as they went into
kitchen to drink some beers.



   Miranda was holding court in the kitchen, cutting up and showing off for
the men.  She had been forced to drink two beers and was having a hard time
standing up.  One of the men had given her a cigarette, which she was
lamely trying to smoke.  But she kept hacking every time she managed to get
some smoke into her lungs.  The alcohol had really messed up her
coordination.  She frequently would walk right into counters and chairs. 
Once she even bounced off the oven, falling in a heap at the men's feet. 
The men roared with delight when she fell, the cigarette bouncing on the
floor, sparks flying everywhere.  They relit the cigarette and she went
back to puffing on it, the men laughing at her antics.



   One of the men sitting on a kitchen chair grabbed her by the neck and
forced her onto her knees between his hairy legs.  She belched once before
the man filled her mouth with his half-hard cock.  She instinctively began
sucking him off, even though she was feeling pretty sick from the beer. 
One man poured some of his beer in her hair; then they all started doing
it. Pretty soon she was as wet as if she had just gotten out of the shower.
The men began licking the beer off of her kneeling naked body.  One man
took the cigarette out of her hand and touched the burning end to the back
of her neck.  They all fell about laughing as she yanked back, nearly
biting off the guy's cock she was sucking.  She then threw-up all over the
linoleum floor.  Sitting there drunk in her own vomit, she began
involuntarily pissing.  Her poor little bladder, so swollen from the beer,
needed the relief.  They all got a laugh out of that too, especially when
Ron grabbed her head and forced her face into the muck, keeping it there
until she had licked up some of it.  But it was all in good fun.  Even
their little six-year-old victim was laughing.  She made quite a sight with
her hair, face and body covered in the gooey mixture of vomit, beer, and
piss.  Needless to say, they had forgotton all about Amber.



   Usually, Ron kept the front door locked with a deadbolt, which required
a key to open, both inside as well as out.  But he had let his guard down,
thinking that with all the men there it wasn't likely that either preteen
would be able to escape.  So he had left the deadbolt unlocked when he let
the men in.  But Ron had forgotten how rebellious the little slut really
was, even after she had been fucked so hard in the triple-drilling that one
of her baby teeth had fallen out.  Naked little Amber, covered in drying
cum, had gotten up and run out the door while they were busy mopping up the
kitchen floor with Miranda's pretty little face.



   As messed-up as Ron was getting, he still sensed that something was
wrong.  Amber came immediately to mind.  He had better check on her quick,
he thought to himself.  He released his grip on Miranda's neck, who was
still pathetically licking up her vomit.  He turned to get up but instead
slipped and fell on the slime-slickened floor.  All of the men laughed at
that too.  The fucking morons.  He kept slipping as he tried to get to his
feet.  He finally found his footing and lurched out of the kitchen and
stumbled into the living room.  The first thing he noticed was that Amber
was no longer on the couch.  The open front door confirmed his worst fears.
Shit.  How long had she been gone?  He raced outside, sobering up fast.



   It was nearly dark.  But the dying sun still cast enough light that he
could see a little bit.  He lived on a large lot in a lightly populated
subdivision located in a heavily-wooded area, on the far outskirts of a
major city.  His nearest neighbors were at least hundred yards away.  Ron
figured she had a headstart of five, maybe ten minutes.  She couldn't have
gotten too far in her physical state.  But which way did she go?  Ron ran
down the gravel driveway, past his friends' parked cars, to the dirt road.
He looked left and right.  Nothing.  Think, dammit.  What would she do?  A
little girl who just had her brains fucked out by three men, who's naked
and covered in cum, who doesn't know anything about the area.  Which way
would she go?



   As he again looked up and down the dirt road, trying to decide what to
do, he saw car lights approaching.  Dammit!  The road only served a few
houses in the area, so the chances were slim that someone would just happen
along at this precise moment.  What if the driver had already seen his
little naked first-grader running down the road?  As the car slowly
approached, he peered closer to see who it might be.  The car stopped and
Ron nearly jumped out of his shorts when the driver gave the horn a long
blast.  Then he recognized the face behind the wheel.  It was the friend he
had invited over who hadn't showed up with the others.  He was just now
getting here.  Ron moved to the passenger-side door and heard an electric
whirr as the window came down.  He shoved his head through the opening and
was about to ask his buddy if he had seen the girl, when he noticed a big
smile on his friend's face.  Then he looked down into the guy's lap and
immediately felt giddy with relief.  Cum-covered little Amber was stretched
out face-down on the bench seat, her face completely impaled on his
friend's monstrous cock.  His buddy had a handful of her thick chestnut
hair, which he used as a handle to slowly raise and lower her head.  "Hey,
Ron, hope you don't mind that I brought a date with me!" he said, laughing.



   After his buddies had left a couple of hours later, he had brought Amber
down to the basement for her punishment.  He had just finished whipping
her. The nylon cords had stretched some, so her body was now nearly
touching the floor.  Ron unzipped his pants and pulled out his half-hard
cock.  He straddled Amber's body from behind, placing a foot on either side
of her spread thighs.  "Amber," he said, "if you ever try to run away
again, or cause me any kind of trouble, what I'm about to do will be the
least of your problems." With that, he let fly with a stream of piss.  He
moved his cock in little circles as the yellow arc of urine splashed off of
her reddened back and ass.  The little girl immediately jerked in her
bindings, her back arching as the salty liquid entered the fresh welts.  A
high-pitched wail nearly out of hearing range bounced off the thick
basement walls, so that it was hard to tell where it originated.  But
looking at little Amber as she thrashed about, it wasn't hard to deduce
that it must be her shrieks of pain escaping through the ball of socks in
her mouth.



   He emptied his full bladder onto the little bitch as she continued to
struggle.  Some of the hot frothy piss pooled in the small of her back and
ran down the slot between her soft pale buttcheeks.  Most of the piss began
coursing into the drain in the floor located just inches below her stomach.
He pulled a knife from his belt and knelt down behind her shoulders.  He
grabbed a handful of her piss-splashed hair and pulled her head back.  He
then placed the sharp serrated edge of the eight-inch knife under her chin.
Her baby-brown eyes were wide open as he watched the tender skin of her
neck slowly yield as he applied pressure to the knife.  "Amber, this is
your final warning," Ron growled.  "Don't ever fuck with me again, or I'll
finish you off just like this.  Blink your eyes if you understand me."
Amber blinked her eyes.  He let her head go and watched as it snapped back
down.  He reached out with the knife and quickly severed the four cords. 
Her body dropped down the couple of inches to the basement floor, where she
lay unmoving, blocking the drain, as the remaining piss collected around
the sides of her inert body.



   Ron stood back up and pondered the situation.  He wasn't proud of his
behavior.  He didn't really want to hurt the girl; he took no joy in it. 
But goddammit, something had to be done to control her.  If this didn't do
the trick, then he would have to sell her.  Of course nobody in the market
for a little preteen girl would want a troublesome bitch like her.  There
was only one conceivable destination left for this kidnapped preteen: she
would end up being a one-time big star in a little girl snuff film.  Ron
wasn't enamored with the idea of someone killing her.  He had grown
attached to her in a way that he hadn't with Miranda.  He actually
respected the spirit she showed in defying him, even if it caused him a lot
of headaches.  But there was big money in snuff films, and this option had
to be considered.  The underground market in snuff films was much bigger
than most people imagined.  And for little girls the prices paid were
incredible.



   Ron had never directly participated in the production of little girl
snuff films, but he had seen a few of them.  As he stood over Amber, he
recalled the first little girl snuff film he had ever seen.  He had been
led into a darkened stuffy room where there were at least a dozen strange
men and two women, all of whom had paid big money to watch a snuff film
that starred several little girls.  They had sat around on rickety folding
chairs as the old black and white 8mm film was started, its grainy picture
projected upon a blank wall.  Most of the men pulled out their cocks and
began slowly masturbating.  Ron had watched as the two women scooted their
chairs closer together and each quietly slipped a hand under the other's
dress, their eyes riveted on the film.



   The film started with the usual number countdown.  There were no titles
or credit listings of any kind.  The film suddenly began by showing four
little girls clad in smocks and very short pinafore dresses.  All were
around seven years of age, he guessed.  They were being herded into a
little room that contained a large bed and little else.  The camera was
hand-held and shaky, so the filmmaker was definitely amateurish.  A lean,
muscular man with tattoos on his arms was shepherding the little girls. 
The terrified preteens shrunk back into a corner as the smiling tattooed
man picked up the nearest one and threw her on the bed.  She was a cute
little blue-eyed redhead with tiny freckles all over her face.  She wore a
loose green smock and nothing else, not even socks or shoes.  Another man
appeared from off-camera and together the two men quickly tied her hands
and feet to the four bedposts using lengths of a white nylon cord.  The
spread-eagled little girl began crying.  The other little girls followed
her lead and began crying too.



   The cameraman moved closer to the bed until the little girl's body
filled the screen.  Tears were streaming down her face as the tattooed
man's arm appeared from off-camera.  He held a yellow tennis ball in his
hand.  The sharp command "Open your fucking mouth," could plainly be heard.
The little girl was staring at the tattooed man as her trembling lips
slowly parted, revealing the pink interior of her quivering mouth.  Using
one powerful hand to lever her jaws open further, the tattooed man began
compressing and shoving the tennis ball between her teeth, forcing her jaws
to open wider until he managed to wedge the entire ball inside, where it
reflated to its normal size.  She was now effectively muted, her jaws
stretched so far that they were practically unhinged.  It would be hard to
get that ball out now, even if she had the use of her hands.



   The cameraman backed off to get a full shot of the bed, and then he
panned over to the three girls in the corner.  The two men moved over to
the cowering girls and quickly looped a rope around all of them several
times, first ensuring that their arms were bound to their sides, before
cinching it tight.  They were now bound together tightly and could only
move as a group.  They began crying all the more.  The girls were then
pushed towards the side of the bed and positioned so that the tied-up
little redhead was now no more than a couple of feet from them.  The
tattooed man produced some small handcuffs and slapped one end on the
closest girl's left wrist, and then secured the other end to the bedpost
closest to the spread-eagled little girl.  He slapped another pair on the
right wrist of the girl furtherest from the redhead and manacled her to the
bedpost at the foot of the bed.  The little bound onlookers had nowhere to
go.  They would have to witness all that was going to happen at very short
range.



   The camera moved back and focused on the little girl bound on the bed. A
few moments later the tattooed man reappeared in the picture, this time
naked from the waist down.  His large cock was at half-mast, well on its
way to full engorgement.  He jumped up on the bed and straddled the little
girl, his knees pressing down on her bound arms, his hairy ass resting on
her smock-clad stomach and chest.  The cameraman moved to the opposite side
of the bed from the group of girls.  The screen now showed the crying girls
in the background, tied together and secured to the bedside.  In the
foreground, not more than four feet from the cameraman, the little bound
redhead was shown fully splayed out, the tattooed man leaning over her and
brushing the sides of her face with his dangling cock.  Little strings of
precum clung to her cheeks.  About one-third of the yellow tennis ball was
visible within her straining mouth.



   The tattooed man was handed a large knife from someone off-camera,
presumably the second man who had helped tie up the girls.  The sight of
this lethal weapon provoked the little cluster of bound girls into crying
even louder.  The little redhead's terrified eyes were fastened on the
knife as the tattooed man waved it over her face.



   Ron looked around at the group watching the film.  The two women were
openly panting as they stared wide-eyed at the image on the wall.  He could
see accelerating movement under their dresses as they began moving in
concert towards orgasm.  The sound of men beating their meat filled the
air. Ron looked down and was surprised to find that he had pulled his cock
out and was flogging it too.  The film quality was cheesy, but it added an
air of realism to the little girl's impending doom.  He had never been so
hard in his life.



   Back on the screen, the tattooed man grabbed a handful of the little
girl's long red hair and yanked her head back, fully exposing her white
slender neck.  He placed the knife at her arched throat and made a tiny
incision just under her chin, enough to cause a few drops of blood to
dribble down the creamy valley of her preteen neck towards the bedsheet. 
The little girl snorted through her nose as the man forcibly inclined her
head back even further.  The little girls in the background were staring in
terror at the man and his little victim.  They had stopped crying for the
moment.  The second man was nowhere to be seen.



   The tattooed man scooted back until he was on his knees between the
little girl's spread-eagled legs.  He made a little cut in the hem of her
green smock and then tore the garment open with one rip, revealing her
white naked body.  With one yank he pulled the smock out from underneath
her and threw it off the bed.  He laid the large knife on her stomach, the
sharp end pointing towards her head.  The knife was so long that it reached
from her belly button to just below her chin, with the sharp blade resting
sideways on her sternum, right between where her tits would be if she had
had any.  The knife moved up and down on her heaving flat chest, as she
breathed noisily through her nose.  The man shoved his unshaved face
between the trapped little redhead's smooth, lightly freckled inner thighs,
and began running his snake-like tongue up and down the puffy pink crease
of her hairless pussy.  The little girl's ass shifted around erratically as
she vainly attempted to avoid his long slimy tongue.



   The cameraman climbed on the bed and zoomed-in on the tongue-action as
the tattooed man buried his nose in the preteen's pussy, while his tongue
stabbed into her little rosebud asshole.  He placed his hands under the
little girl's asscheeks palms up, and then, using his large thumbs--the
long dirty nails starkly contrasting with her ivory skin--pried her outer
pussy lips open until they were stretched tight, allowing him more access
as he face-fucked the little redhead with his nose.  The little girl
struggled against the white cords.  There was enough play in them to enable
her to move her hands and feet a few inches.  Her fruitless resistance
seemed to drive the man to plunge his face into her little pussy even
harder and faster.



   The man raised his head for a moment and looked directly into the
camera. The wet sheen of the little girl's pussy juices reflected off of
his thick lips, nose, and chin, as if he had just dipped his face into bowl
of clear grease.  "I just love little girl pussy," he said, smiling, as a
drop of pussy juice hung suspended from his chin.  "Especially little
seven-year-old redhead pussy," he sneered, looking back up at the face of
the little girl, whose head was now tossing vigorously back and forth, her
red cheeks puffed out from the yellow tennis ball jammed in her mouth.  The
reason for the sudden head-tossing became evident as the cameraman focused
back down between her legs.  The tattooed man had buried his two big thumbs
into the little girl's asshole.  He had then pried the little rosebud open
enough so that the camera could see an inch or two into the little second
grader's ass tunnel, the moist blackness of her hot poopchute enticing the
cameraman to close even further, until he practically had the lens up her
ass.



   "Goddamn it, I want to fuck this little bitch before you kill her," the
cameraman could clearly be heard whispering to the tattooed man.  "Nah, you
can fuck her after she's dead," he replied gruffly.  "We've got business to
do right now."



   Ron felt like he was going to come any minute.  The other men in the
room were now beating their meat with increasing ferocity, their eyes
riveted on the wall.  The exchange between the tattoed man and the
cameraman had heightened their anticipation.  The two women were moaning
and gasping out loud.  Their dresses were now bunched around their waists
as they furiously frigged away at each other's exposed pussy, oblivious to
everything except the little girl's plight.  Ron's cockhead was swollen
red, ready to burst, as he swung his attention back to the film.



   The tattooed man had picked up the knife, blade first.  Cackling to
himself, he twisted the black leather knife handle into the little
redhead's gaping hairless pussy until all five inches were buried to the
hilt.  All that could be seen was the gleaming twelve-inch blade sticking
out of her slit, her writhing little ass making it appear as if she were
giving birth to the sharpened instrument.  A small amount of blood dribbled
from her slit and pooled under her buttery buttcheeks.  She must have been
a virgin.  The camera panned the three bound girls.  Their faces were
horror-stricken as their eyes followed the gyrating knife-tip as the little
girl thrashed about.  Their sobs and the abused preteen's muffled moans
were all that could be heard.



   Meanwhile, the tattooed man had slithered farther down the bed and was
randomly inflicting bite marks on the little girl's calves and thighs. 
Each time he took a bite the miniature red-head would flop about crazily.
Her pale freckled skin contrasted sharply with the deep red bite marks. 
The teeth imprints were so clearly defined that it was obvious that the
tattooed man must have a large gap in his upper front teeth.  The man then
positioned his head over her right foot, grabbed her ankle with both hands
and, incredibly, swallowed her naked little foot entirely into his big
mouth.  Her frantic little toes rippled against the inside of his right
cheek as he smiled for the zooming camera, his teeth clamped firmly on the
cord-bound ankle of the little squirming girl-child.  He began to make
chewing motions with his jaws as the firmly enclasped little leg jerked his
head back and forth a few inches with the preteen's constrained
contortions. The man hammed it up for the camera for awhile.  Finally
tiring of the game, he slowly released the preteen's dainty foot.  Slimy
red bite marks were clearly evident as it emerged from the black hole of
his cavernous mouth.



   The tattooed man suddenly reached for the knife blade and quickly yanked
the handle from its tight wet preteen sheath.  A sucking sound could be
heard as the knife was withdrawn.  The camera began jerking about as the
cameraman whispered: "Do her now, do her now!" He was obviously jacking off
as the climax of the film drew near.  The tattooed man jumped from the bed,
his giant cock waving about as he took the knife and began methodically
shredding the dresses of all three bound little girls.  He slashed through
the front and back of each dress several times until each girl was left
wearing only ribbons of cloth, their flat white chests and stomachs
appearing through the torn colored strips.  The bound little second-graders
were of course screaming the whole time, although the man took care not to
injure them.  He must have been preserving them for the snuff films to
come.



   Standing behind them, he shoved the little girls' backs with his
powerful arms so that the bound group was forced to lean over the bed,
their heads only inches from the redhead's squirming young body.  "Lick
that little slut, or I'll kill all of you!" he yelled out.  "Lick her body
now!" he shouted.  The cameraman zoomed in on the crying preteens as they
slowly, hesitantly began licking the little redhead's freckled white body.
Their tears merged with their saliva as they traced wet meandering trails
on her arms, torso and thighs.  "Now take a bite of her!" he yelled.  To
enforce his command, he slapped the back of their heads.  Each girl opened
her mouth and tentatively sank her teeth into the creamy skin of the petite
redhead.  "Bite harder!" he yelled again, slapping their heads once more.
To a girl, they bit down hard, too afraid of the consequences of not
obeying.  The redheaded preteen bucked about as each sobbing little girl
sank her teeth deeply into her succulent flesh.



   The cameraman drew back from the faces of the girls so that the tattooed
man reappeared in the picture, hovering behind and over them.  He had
placed his left foream across the back of their necks to keep their heads
forced down onto the little girl's body.  With his right hand, he lifted
the torn dress of the middle girl so that he had access to her pantyless
ass.  He could be seen maneuvering his large rigid cock behind her.  The
middle girl suddenly screamed as the tattooed man began pounding her ass
with his hips.  He had managed to jam his cock into the little
second-grader's tight pussy, and was now fucking her like crazy.



   He picked up the knife that he had laid on the bed and raised it in the
air behind the group of little girls.  "Okay, you little redheaded slut,
now you are going to die," he yelled, as the knife began slowly descending
from above the girls towards the head of the prostrate preteen.  This must
have been the cameraman's signal, because he quickly zoomed the camera into
the crying face of the seven-year-old closest to the redhead's face.  Still
obeying her tattooed tormentor, her teeth were well-sunk into the redhead's
chest.  Suddenly she pulled back and began screaming as blood began
spurting on her pretty little preteen face.  Her eyes were locked on the
unseen face of the bound redhead.  Bright red blood was squirting
everywhere, streaming down her face and into her open mouth.  Blood spurt
into her long brown hair and dribbled down her forehead.  The pumping blood
must have lasted for only a few seconds on the screen, although it seemed
much longer.  Ron figured that the carotid artery in the little redhead's
neck must have been severed.



   Ron managed to tear his eyes from the image on the wall.  One of the
women had gotten on her knees and was noisily lapping at her friend's hairy
pussy.  The men were all grunting as they slapped their meat.  Most had
already come or were just now coming, the white stuff running down their
hands and onto their pants.  Ron looked down at his own cock and watched as
his pisshole suddenly erupted, shooting long geyser-like streamers of cum
into the air.  He continued to whack himself off as he looked back up at
the film.  The bound little girl on the bed was now back in the picture,
unmoving, eyes shut, and totally covered in blood.  The blood-specked
yellow tennis ball was still in her mouth.  A deep gash could be seen under
her chin.  The tattooed man had jumped back onto the bed.  He was busy
whacking off, spraying cum all over the blood-drenched little preteen. 
Still bound together, the three little girls were cowering in the
background, their tattered dresses splattered with blood.



   The film faded out.  One of the men recovered from his orgasm, cock
still in hand, and said: "Bullshit!  That was no snuff film.  That was a
total setup." Another one agreed with him.  Then many of the others did the
same.  The veteran snuff-film watchers were soon babbling that the little
girl could not have possibly been killed.  A real snuff film would have
shown the actual killing, they said.  The fact that the cameraman chose to
zoom-in on one of the other girls precisely at the time the knife was
coming down was proof that the whole thing was a fraud.  The tattooed man
had just pretended to slash her.  No doubt the unseen second man had
squirted animal blood on the little girls in the group while remaining out
of the camera's eye.  And surely the little redhead had been told not to
move or breath as the camera panned back over her.  The neck gash was
probably some cheap Halloween prop.  Certainly, they all agreed, the film
had been edited to make it appear as though it had all happened in a
continuous fashion.  But the film was so crude that it was obvious to just
about everybody in the room that the whole thing was a scam.  From Ron's
point of view it had looked real enough, and that was all that mattered. 
He was glad, though, that the cute little redhead had not been killed.



   Ron pulled his pants up and left the room as the snuff-obsessed
pedophiles--many with their cocks still exposed--continued to debate the
finer points of the film, as if they were all erudite critics.  The two
women were oblivious to the discussion.  They were too busy sixty-nining
each other on the floor to give a damn.



   He had seen other so-called little girl snuff films since then.  Some of
them had been real, no doubt about it.  It truly was a disgusting thing,
but somehow he was drawn to them like a magnet.  He had never been so
aroused and so hard as when he was watching one of these films.



   Ron shook himself from his reverie as he stood there in the basement,
still straddling the exhausted little Amber, who reeked of urine.  The
thought suddenly struck him that maybe he should make his own snuff film.
He could use the basement as his studio, and Miranda and Amber could be his
actresses.  He might even be able to find some fresh preteen meat.  His
buddies could help him with the production.  Hell, they would do it for
free just to get in on the action.  Why shouldn't he cash in directly on
this lucrative market?  He knew some people who would pay him for such a
film, and he could probably make a big killing in selling the distribution
rights to the underground networks.



   He put his dangling cock back into his pants.  As he picked up his
little tortured Amber from the damp basement floor, her slender naked body
shuddering from the pain and cold, he convinced himself that a snuff film
was the ticket.  And if Amber continued to be a problem, he could go all of
the way.  It didn't have to be fake.  He could get rid of her and make lots
more money to boot!  He whistled happily as he began cleaning up his
defiled and abused preteen slut.  "Baby,", he said, talking to the
traumatized Amber, "I'm going to make you a star.  Of course, you could
just be a one-film star--you might say 'shooting star'!" He chuckled to
himself at the double entendre.  Amber didn't appear to get it, but then
she wasn't getting anything right now.  But she would.







   Preteen Bound, Ch.8



   Danny shoved the tip of his cock into the little girl's warm wet mouth.
Roughly gripping the second grader's delicate ears, he worked her
head--beautifully framed in blond cascading curls--toward his hairy
perspiring crotch.  The preteen's baby-blue eyes were wide open and
uncomprehending as her face-hole was slowly pulled up his nine-inch dick.
Her little teeth grated on his prick as he forced her head further onto his
rock-hard fuckpole.  His cock was so large for her small mouth that her
little ruby lips rolled under themselves until they were not even visible.
When the swollen angry head of the cock monster bumped into the back of her
throat, the seven-year-old gagged for several seconds.  With his powerful
hands, Danny manipulated the little girl's head until he could feel his
cock poised at the entrance to her quivering throat.  Grunting his
satisfaction, Danny reapplied pulling pressure to her reddening ears.  All
further gagging noises from the little cunt were cut off as his eager cock
nosed past her tonsils and tunneled smoothly into the hot moist sheath of
her expanding throat.



   There really wasn't much the little bitch could do about it.  Her
face--which bore a large fresh bruise that had formed after Ron had
cold-cocked her during the abduction earlier that day--began to turn blue
as she again struggled against her bindings.  Ron had just left her there a
few minutes before, dumping her out of the bag he had used in the
kidnapping.  He couldn't wait to deepthroat this fresh preteen meat.  Now,
kneeling on the carpeted office floor wearing only a blood-stained blouse,
her ankles bound to her wrists behind her back, the freshly kidnapped
seven-year-old was being introduced to a world of pain, compliments of her
new pimp.  Danny was enjoying breaking in his newest little piece of ass.
It was best to give her a tremendous shock upfront.  That way she was more
likely to become docile and compliant, making it easier to convert her into
a preteen sex slave.  He believed that all little girls, if properly
introduced to rough sex at an early age, would really enjoy becoming a sex
slave.  After all, Danny thought, smiling to himself as he composed a
little ditty in his head: little girls and big cocks go together like,
well, shoes and socks--or bonds and stocks--or whatever.



   Of course, training the little girl to crave cock wasn't all there was
to it.  Danny had to admit that he just loved to sample the merchandise. 
As part owner of a thriving preteen cathouse, he just couldn't help
himself. Ever since Miranda had given him his first taste of glorious
little girl pussy during his lunch hour in the park, he had become an
addicted, even obsessed, pedophile.  So much so that he had quit his job,
divorced his wife, and had begun spending all his waking hours thinking
about fucking hairless little girl slits.  At first, he just downloaded
child porn from the internet newsgroups and jacked off.  But he had found
that that wasn't enough: he wanted to move up to a much higher
level--getting, and fucking, the real thing.  When Ron, bent on extorting a
fistful of money, had contacted Danny about the incriminating video showing
him fucking little six-year-old Miranda in the woods, it was like a gift
sent from heaven.  Danny had eagerly countered the blackmail ploy with a
proposed business venture that involved whoring little girl pussy, while at
the same time they each got a piece of the preteens themselves.  Danny
figured Ron and he could have their little girl pussy-cake and eat it too.



   When Ron heard the pitch, he had bought into it immediately.  After all,
Danny had explained, Ron still had the video and could always blackmail him
later if it didn't work out.  The venture had been a huge success so far.
They were both rolling in the dough, with no end in sight.  Seems that
little girl fucking was all the rage among certain discreet, wealthy men.
There was no end to the demand.  Danny knew how to organize and run the
whorehouse as well as bring in the johns, and Ron was an expert in
supplying little girl pussy.  Their partnership was a match made in heaven.
Little girl heaven.  They decided to name their little whorehouse the Stray
Kitty Ranch, since they specialized only in the really young stuff, all of
them kidnapped.



   And now their latest acquisition was struggling for breath as Danny, his
trousers and underwear bunched around his ankles as he sat half-naked in
his office chair, commenced fucking her throat with a true vengeance. 
Every once in awhile he would push her little head completely off of his
cock so that she could get a lungful of air.  But she had to breathe
quickly because Danny would almost immediately ram his cock back in, which
now unerringly returned down the freshly worn path to the bottom of her
young spasming throat.  It truly was a sight to see as his thick cock
disappeared from view, swallowed whole by the bound and bobbing little
bitch, her eyes now half-open and glazed over in shock.  He pressed his
hickory-hard cock into her so far that her tiny nostrils were filled with
his wiry pubic hair.  The newly-minted child-whore really looked like she
could use a nose trim.



   After fifteen minutes of this thoat-gagging fun, Danny pulled out, his
cock spurting stringers of cum all over the bluish sweaty face of his
precious new piece of preteen ass, adding his load to Ron's, who had had
her face earlier at the museum.  The cock-pounded little girl was clearly
in a state of shock.  He painted her unresisting, upturned face and hair
with his glue-like cum, and then used his dick-stick to daub the white
sticky stuff on her forehead, cheeks, and chin, making sure she got a
complete facial.  He opened her slack mouth again and, using his deflating
cock, scooped wads of cum onto her glistening tongue.  He watched the
pecker snot slowly slither into the black hole of her violated throat, the
little girl all the while choking on his seed.  Beautiful.  When he was
finished, he violently smacked her bruised right cheek with his open palm.
The room echoed with the sharp retort.  She twisted sideways with the force
of the blow and fell face-first onto the floor, bound and unmoving.  His
newest little bitch-slave was in la-la land for awhile, no doubt dreaming
of cum-spitting cocks.  Danny grinned.  Forget your uninteresting former
suburban life, little girl.  You are now nothing but a preteen fuck-toy for
the exclusive pleasure of himself, Ron, the ranch's henchmen, and the rich
and hung, to be mistreated in any manner that they desired.



   As Danny gazed at her little white ass humped-up on the blue carpet, he
thought again about how Ron had kidnapped her.  It truly had been one of
his most audacious feats.  Ron had been prowling around at the downtown art
museum, checking out the precious little pussies on their school tours of
the building.  He watched as a busload of second-grade schoolgirls had
disembarked and gathered around their matronly teacher.  He licked his
chops as he stared at the little girls' beautiful petite legs as they
bounced up and down, all excited about getting out of school for the day.
The variety of little second-grader pussy was simply stunning.  Ranging
from dark-haired, dark-eyed minxes to blonde-haired, blue-eyed vixens, with
a ravishing redhead or two thrown in for good measure, each of the slender
little pussies on parade was ripe for the plucking...er, fucking. 
Bright-eyed and chattering, the pack of preteen pussy had no idea that
their hairless virginal slits, tucked away within their colorful silken
panties, were anything but safe that day.  One of them would be culled as a
wolf picks off a lamb from the flock.



   Ron had cased the museum earlier in the week.  He had found an emergency
exit to a back alley.  There was an alarm on the door, but he figured by
the time the slow-witted museum rent-a-cops responded to it, he would be
long gone.  The next morning when he arrived, he parked his van right
behind a dipsty-dumpster that was positioned near the exit, effectively
hiding it.  He then walked around the building and entered through the
normal entrance.  He was wearing a jacket, which contained a number of
items he would use to make the snatch, including two three-foot lengths of
white nylon cord, two large butt plugs, a tube of vaseline, some duct tape,
a ballcap, a pair of sunglasses, a penknife, and a folded heavy-duty
plastic bag with drawstrings.  The bulky jacket was large enough to conceal
the items.



   As he began following the flock of little girls around the museum, his
cock began to harden as he singled out his unsuspecting victim.  The one he
wanted was without a doubt the most beautiful of a very beautiful bunch. 
Her curly golden hair swept around her shoulders like finely-spun gold. 
Her lithe, perfectly-formed luscious miniature ass was to die for,
beautifully wrapped, like a Christmas gift, in the thin silky material of
her short red skirt.  The top button on her flimsy short-sleeve white
blouse was undone, which made Ron's heart skip at the thought of just now
reaching his hand down her top and roughly tweaking her tiny nipples.  Her
mischevious blue eyes sparkled whenever she talked to someone.  She had the
looks of a little girl model, the kind you see in fashion catalogues
modeling panties and tops.



   But it was the sound of her voice that capped it for Ron.  Her melodious
little girl voice almost made him come in his pants as he stopped to stare
unseeing at a Renoir, his targeted victim only a few feet away.  She was
talking in hushed tones to one of the other girls about some little boy
that she liked.  Her voice was like honey.  Given his experience with
little girls, it wasn't difficult for Ron to imagine the pure sweet sound
of her childish voice when she was being fucked hard.  He could hear in his
mind her little grunts of shock and pain and the long tortured groans that
would catch in her throat as his cock reamed her insides.  And of course
there were the gargly, strangling noises she would make when his thick
boiling cum filled her choking throat.  Standing there in the museum, he
could clearly hear the sound of his body slapping hard into hers,
accompanied by helpless mewling noises that only a little girl can make
when she's getting the bone real good.



   Ron forced himself to stop fantasizing long enough to focus on the task
at hand.  Fortunately, the petite blonde was a straggler, who always seemed
to be the last one to follow the others into the next room.  And the
teacher was not continuously watching the little girls either, as they
tended to shear away from the group to look at some exhibit, before
returning to the fold a minute or two later.  This was going to be much
easier than he thought.  He just had to wait until they entered the room
where he knew he could pull off the snatch with the least amount of risk.
Ron kept a discreet distance, but he never let his soon-to-be preteen sex
slave out of his sight.



   Eventually the group meandered into the large room that Ron had picked
out.  It contained a number of tall table-top cases, which formed a sort of
maze to walk through.  Heather (he had finally heard someone call her by
her name), as usual, was straggling behind, taking her time as she peered
at the Ming treasures within the glass cases.  The group was hidden from
view, having noisily progressed further into the maze.  This was it.  It
was now or never.  Looking around and seeing no one else, Ron simply walked
up behind Heather and tapped her on the shoulder.  As she turned around,
Ron quickly grabbed a handful of her silky blond curls near the back of her
neck with his left hand.  A split second later, Heather's startled pretty
little face was rudely introduced to Ron's rapidly moving right fist.  The
little cunt emitted a squeak as a torrent of blood instantly shot out of
her nose like a firehose.  It was lights out for Heather.  Her body sagged
like a sack of sand.  Oops, hit her a bit too hard, thought Ron.  But it
had been necessary to quiet her immediately.  Too much risk as it was.



   Ron held the girl up by her blond curls as her legs crumpled beneath
her. Covering her face with his free hand to help staunch the flow of
blood, he bent down and hoisted her limp body onto his shoulder and moved
quickly into a nearby empty hallway.  A few steps later and he was safe for
the moment inside a large janitorial closet that he had jimmied the lock on
earlier.  His heart was racing as he quietly closed the door and flipped
the light on, the bare bulb brilliantly illuminating his latest catch.  He
laid her out face-up on the cold cement floor.  Her nose had stopped
bleeding, but her little white blouse was soaked.  He grabbed a slender arm
and pulled her relaxed body up into the sitting position, her head lolling
backwards.  He smacked her pale lifeless face a few times with an open hand
to give her some color.  Her head twisted from side to side with the slaps,
as her cheeks flamed up in the scarlet color he loved so much.  Her nose
started bleeding again, this time just a few drops dripping onto her lips.
Every little bitch deserved to be slapped around.  Heather was no
exception. She was a slut waiting to happen.  And it was going to happen.



   He reached into his jacket and removed one of the butt plugs.  He jammed
the snubbed end of the flesh-colored plug into her open bloodied mouth,
forcing the widest part of the plug past her teeth.  He corkscrewed the
butt plug in until all five inches had disappeared.  Her mouth was now
unbelievably bloated with the spongy mass of the plug, as her teeth
half-closed on the narrow stem at the circular base.  He moved her curly
hair out of the way at the back of her neck and then quickly wrapped her
head with two turns of the one-inch duct tape, securing the butt plug
within its new warm wet home.  He could hear her ragged wheezy breathing as
she started sucking air through her blood-encrusted nostrils.



   He flipped Heather over onto her stomach.  He rolled up her tight silky
red skirt over the rising mound of her little ass until it was bunched
around her narrow waist.  He grabbed the elastic waistband of her white
lacy panties with both hands and quickly peeled them back.  He slid the
panties down her exquisitely shaped legs and pulled her floppy ankles
through the legholes.  He crushed the panties in his hand and pressed them
to his nose and inhaled.  Oh God, the aroma was overwhelming.  The little
girl's fragrant pussy juices permeated the fabric, making his dick even
harder.  She would never need panties again where she was going, he
thought, as he tossed them behind a box in the back of the little room.



   His breath caught as he looked back down at the girl, now naked below
the waist except for her black shiny dress shoes and white frilly anklets.
Oh, yeah, there it was.  Heaven itself was now fully displayed before him.
The tan-lined, snow-white ass to die for, that he had fantasized about for
the last hour, now shone before him like a pedophile's Holy Grail.  And
what an ass it was as he parted her legs at the knees to get a better look.
Nothing was hidden now as the rosy bud of her tight virgin asshole came
into view.  He used his fingertips to spread the soft flesh of her ass
cheeks to get a closer look.  What a sight.  This made it all worth while.
A beautiful second-grader's asshole, waiting to be plundered.  And
underneath it, the plump cleft of her hairless never-fucked pussy.  Her
spread legs had forced her pussy lips to open slightly, giving him just a
glimpse of its pink interior.  God he loved being a pedophile.  It just
didn't get any better than this.



   Now he had to start breaking in her asshole so that she would be able to
accommodate the large cocks that would soon be filling her insides at the
Stray Kitty Ranch.  He squeezed a gob of vaseline from the tube onto the
other butt plug, then worked it over the entire surface with his fingers.
He turned around and sat on her upper back to keep her from moving while he
inserted it.  As he sat down, Ron was rewarded with a long deep groan
squeezed from the little girl as she took his full weight.  He leaned over
and parted her thighs with his elbows as far as he could before postioning
the nose of the plug at the little girl's back door.  He shoved his left
arm under her pelvis so that her ass would hunch up and be more accessible.
Using all of his strength he began jamming and twisting the butt plug inch
by slow inch into Heather's tight poopchute.  Her dainty asshole began to
spread open as it succumbed to the tremendous pressure, widening and
stretching all the while as the diameter of the plug increased the farther
it was shoved in.  He could hear Heather moan through the gag as her body
was invaded by the huge object.  He knew she wasn't awake yet.  And better
for her that she wasn't.



   He was nearly sweating with the effort as, with one last great push, the
widest part of the plug slowly sank and disappeared from view, consumed by
her engulfing little ass like a rat being swallowed by a snake.  Her
incredibly stretched and nearly torn sphincter, released from the great
diameter of the plug, now slowly closed around the stem.  Her stark ivory
ass cheeks--highlighted by her tanned legs--quivered as her ass adjusted
itself to the five inches of solid plug buried deep into her bowels.  No
need to wrap her ass with duct tape like he had her head.  The plug was
nearly three inches wide at its maximum diameter, so there wasn't much
chance it was going to come out of her tiny ass without some external help.



   He shifted his weight to his knees and roughly turned her over onto her
back.  His raging cock needed immediate relief.  There really wasn't time,
but fuck it, he would take the chance.  He flipped around and sat on her
flat chest and stomach, using his shins to press down on her upper arms
which were extended at right angles to her body.  He unbuckled his pants
and pulled down his zipper.  With some effort he managed to extract his
fully erect seven-inch cock.  He immediately began jacking off over her
petite face.  Just then her eyelids fluttered open, her pale-blue eyes
catching his.  She began squirming underneath him, but was unable to make
much noise with the butt plug firmly implanted at the back of her throat.
Ron loved it as her hands flapped around on the cement floor like a couple
of small white fish, while her legs kicked out feebly behind him,
encumbered somewhat by the giant butt plug wedged into her ass.  He reached
down and grabbed a handful of golden curls at the top of her head, pulling
her face up so that it was closer to his cock as he masturbated faster. 
Her eyes were crossed and terror-stricken as she focused on the purple-red
cockhead pointed only a few inches from her button nose.  Ron forced
himself to remain quiet as he flushed red with pleasure, his jism boiling
up in his balls.



   Suddenly, his cock erupted in geysers of stringy cum onto Heather's
uplifted blood-streaked face.  He couldn't suppress a few grunts as he
painted her face with surge after surge of squirting cum.  His body
shivered with delight as he continued to unload his hot creamy juice all
over the second grader's beautiful face.  He moved his cock left and right,
up and down, as he pumped a crosshatch pattern of cum-lines across her red
cheeks, forehead, and even her golden curly hair.  She really looked good
as he finished up.  Just the way a little bitch is meant to look, as some
of his cum ran down over her eyebrows and into her beautiful blue eyes,
which somehow had escaped the initial assault.  Pretty soon her eyelashes
were all gummed-up, which forced her to keep her eyes shut.  Ron helped the
process along by squeezing the last few drops out of his cock onto her eye
sockets.



   Enough of this already.  Time to get out of here.  He shifted his shins
off of her arms and pulled the cum-covered little whore into a sitting
position.  He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a length of white
cord.  He quickly tied her hands behind her back.  She was no longer
resisting.  She was obviously in a state of shock, not to mention some
serious pain.  She appeared unconscious as he laid her upper body back
down, flipped her over onto her stomach, and then quickly bound her ankles
to her wrists with the other length of cord.  He produced the
extra-strength plastic bag from his jacket and quickly unfolded it.  He
shoved the little girl's doubled-up bound body into the opening until she
was completed inside.  He closed the drawstrings and tied them into a knot.
With his penknife he made a few small holes at the top so she would have
air to breath.  He took off the jacket and then removed the sunglasses and
ballcap from the pockets, donning both.  He tossed the blood-stained jacket
and the tube of vaseline behind the same box where the girl's panties lay.
On both the workshirt and the ballcap the words "Waste Management Services"
were stitched in bold blue lettering.  He tucked his shirt in, buckled his
pants, and zipped up.  He looked for signs of blood on his clothing. 
Nothing obvious.  Okay, let's go, he thought to himself.



   He opened the door slightly and peered out.  No one was around. 
Gripping the drawstrings, he hefted up the bag and swung it over his
shoulder.  He walked out into the hallway nonchalantly, closing the door
behind him.  He had to walk down a couple of hallways to get to the exit
door he had chosen earlier.  He unhurriedly passed a couple of people as he
did so, none of whom paid the slightest attention to him.  Just as he got
to the door, he heard an intercom announcement that Heather Lodge was to
report to the security desk just inside the entrance to the building
immediately.  Good.  So far she was just a lost kid; it hadn't escalated to
a full-blown missing child crisis yet.  Ron figured that this situation was
going to change about thirty seconds after he opened the emergency door and
people started putting two and two together.  He fished his van keys out of
his pocket as he hesitated at the exit.  No one in sight.  Here goes.  He
burst through the door and headed quickly for his van hidden behind the
dumpster.  He could hear a distant alarm as he opened the back doors of the
van and heaved the bag into the back, where it landed on the bare metal
floor with a resounding thump.  He closed the windowless back doors,
climbed into the cab, and began driving off.



   In his sideview mirror he could see a fat security cop appear at the
exit door.  He was looking at his van.  Oh well, he had assumed that he
might be spotted, so he had covered the license plate with mud in advance,
making it unreadable.  Even so, with a description of the van, he didn't
have a lot of time.  But it didn't matter, because three blocks later,
unfollowed, he pulled into a secure private underground parking lot.  The
only vehicles allowed in were those belonging to the owners (Danny and
himself), the ranch's henchmen, and the wealthy johns, who came on a
regular basis to the Stray Kitty Ranch to fuck and torture the preteen
pussies he and Danny kept enslaved there.  And now Heather was to be the
newest addition.  Carrying the bag, Ron took the private elevator to
Danny's penthouse office suite.  Ron and Danny had bought the top two
floors of the high-rise using the money they had accumulated whoring out
their little girls.  Nobody could enter their ranch unless Ron and Danny
permitted them to.  They fronted the operation as an import-export company,
a business on paper only.  It was a perfect setup.  No one would ever
suspect that they were actually harboring kidnapped little girls who were
daily molested in ways that would absolutely shock almost anyone.



   And so Heather's descent into the world of child sex slavery had begun,
thought Danny, as he continued to stare at Heather's little white ass
humped up on the blue carpet of his office.  The butt plug was still lodged
firmly in place.  The other butt plug lay nearby, having been ripped out
earlier so that Danny could plunder the little girl's mouth and throat.



   Heather was the tenth girl to be added to their growing harem.  Counting
Heather, Danny and Ron had acquired eight new little girls in the two
months since they had started their operation, in addition to the original
twosome of Miranda and Amber.  Ten little pussies all in a row, each
generating a potful of money from his former business associates, political
friends, and other high-rollers, who had proved to be insatiable when it
came to fucking the little girls' tiny mouths, pussies and assholes.  Like
Ron and Danny, their clients preferred the young preteens.  The age range
of their child sex slaves varied from four to nine.  Danny and Ron steered
clear of any girl ten or older.  They tended to be more trouble, and they
generally weren't as fresh as the younger stuff.  The little girls had it
all: innocence, small tight slits, beautiful childish faces.  And of course
the squeal of a bound seven-year-old being fucked without mercy was a sound
that couldn't be duplicated by the older, deeper-voiced girls.  The motto
of the Stray Kitty Ranch was: if you want to fuck an itty-bitty, no-titty
kitty, visit our ranch in the city.  Ron and Danny thought it so clever,
they used it as their greeting message on the answering machine connected
to their private, scrambled phone line.



   But now it was back to business.  Danny had Heather removed by two of
the ranch's paid henchmen with orders to clean her up and make her ready
for her initiation that night.  The men were Ron's pedophile friends, who
were absolutely trustworthy.  They were burly, rough types, and were none
too gentle with the little girls.  Part of their compensation included
fucking the girl of their choice on a daily basis.  They each grabbed a
tiny ankle and dragged the now awake but bewildered, cum-coated Heather
from the room.  Danny scanned his appointment book.  Let's see, Senator O.
was due in at 1:00 for the usual rough sex with one of their best girls,
little six-year-old Samantha.  The senator really had taken a fancy to the
vivacious, strawberry-haired Samantha, who had the looks of a little slut
made-to-order.  She had become quite the popular little girl-fuck ever
since Ron had abducted her three weeks ago from a mall in a mid-size town
located upstate.



   Danny still couldn't believe that Ron had pulled it off.  In a mall no
less!  Since it's such a public area, with so many people around, it would
seem an unlikely place to kidnap a little girl.  But it's funny what you
can get away with if you have enough panache.  And Ron had plenty to go
around.  He had taken little Miranda with him and had simply strolled the
huge mall with her in tow until he spied the little pussy he wanted.  When
he first laid eyes on Samantha, he knew that he just had to have her.  Like
right now.  The gorgeous little redhead, dressed in a long flowing blue
skirt and matching pin-striped blouse, was only around six years old, but
she had that innocent yet erotic look that gave Ron goosebumps on his
balls. Her page-cut hairstyle imparted a sophisticated look beyond her
tender years.  She was with her mother, who was preoccupied with trying on
dresses and shoes in the women's section of a large department store.



   Ron had an idea.  He whispered some instructions to his totally obedient
Miranda.  They waited for their moment.  When the mother went into the
fitting area with an armful of apparel, Miranda sidled up to the little
redhead and started chatting away about how lovely the little girl's outfit
was.  Did she know that they had some really nice dresses just over on the
other side of the main aisle?  Would she like to come over and look with
her?  The little redhead said she had to wait for her mother to return. 
Don't worry, said Miranda, the dresses were only a few feet away.  No
problem at all.  The little girl, happy to have a playmate, said okay, just
for a few seconds.  It was a fateful decision.



   The two girls walked around a few racks of dresses, Miranda holding her
new friend's hand.  Miranda told the little girl that she had already tried
on a perfect green dress, that she just knew would look so wonderful on her
new friend.  She had left it in the other fitting area just over there, on
the far side of the store.  Come on, she said, let's have you try it on
too. I don't know, the little girl stammered, casting a glance backwards.
Please, begged Miranda, tugging at her arm.  Okay, but let's hurry, the
little girl said, chasing after Miranda, who had bolted ahead.  Miranda
walked into the mostly deserted fitting area and picked out an empty room
at the very end.  After they had both entered the small room, Miranda
closed the louvered door.  Where's the dress, wondered the little girl, as
she looked around.  Hmmm, somebody must have picked it up, replied Miranda.



   Just then the door opened quietly.  Ron slipped in and closed the door
behind him.  There you are, you naughty girl, he said to Miranda in a
hushed, mock-scolding tone of voice.  I've looked for you everywhere. 
Miranda said she was sorry, daddy, but she had just made a new friend.  Her
name is Samantha.  Oh, whispered Ron--knowing that loud voices could be
overheard--I just love that name, his cock hardening as he took in the
vision of the little red-headed temptress, standing there at cock-height,
so close, so irresistably fuckable.  The little girl looked up at Ron, her
bright green eyes flashing the surprise she felt by this strange man's
sudden appearance in a girl's dressing room.  She mustered up some courage
and said in a shaken voice that he shouldn't be in there right now.  She
might have been changing her clothes.  Ron smiled and said don't let me
stop you.  By all means, take off your clothes.  Samantha was so taken
aback by this reply that she didn't know what to say.  Her darling lower
jaw hung open, revealing to Ron's practiced eye the wet pink interior of
her highly desirable little mouth.  Well if you won't take your clothes
off, then I guess I will, whispered Ron, leering, as he began to slowly
unzip his fly.



   While this conversation was going on, Miranda had worked her way behind
Samantha.  When Ron's hand went to his fly--it was her cue--Miranda
suddenly grabbed Samantha's little arms and locked them with her own behind
the girl's back.  As he pulled down his fly with his left hand, Ron balled
his right hand into a fist.  Before the stunned Samantha could utter a word
or let loose a scream, Ron punched her hard in the stomach.  The little
girl doubled over instantly as air exploded from her mouth.  Unhurriedly,
Ron extracted his rigid cock from his pants, grabbed a handful of
Samantha's strawberry hair, and in one fluid motion raised her head and
shoved his cock deep into the first grader's open mouth.  With the wind
knocked out of her, paralyzed with pain, little Samantha could do nothing
but look into her tormentor's eyes as he buried his cock deep into her
throat.  God, marveled Ron, she looked so beautiful with his spidery-veined
cock in her small virgin mouth, her green eyes glued to his own.  He was
almost ready to cum.  That wasn't usual for him, but she was special. 
Might be a record time.



   Not to be outdone, Miranda had let loose of Samantha's arms when the
girl had doubled over and was now burrowing her head under the little
girl's long skirt, on a mission to eat Samantha's fresh hairless pussy.  In
just a few seconds, Ron could hear her slurping away on the child's crack,
Miranda having already pulled the girl's silky, heart-patterned panties
down around her ankles.  Ron seesawed his cock in and out of Samantha's
face-hole for a minute or so, as the girl struggled for breath.  He watched
his roughened cock chafe her reddening lips as it pistoned in and out of
her liquid mouth, while he used both hands to grip the back of her head,
fingers entwined.  Saliva kept spraying out of the sides of her cock-filled
mouth, as she fought for air, coating his cock and dripping from her chin.
It was one of the best nonconsensual blowjobs he had ever had from a little
girl.  And that was saying something, since he reckoned he had been blown
by over one hundred of the little darlings, mostly against their will.



   He knew he had to hurry.  Her mother was a slow dresser, but she would
finish up any time now and would wonder where her little Samantha had run
off to.  Still, he wanted to fuck the little bitch here and now.  He bent
over and grabbed Samantha under her armpits.  As he lifted her up so that
they were face-to-face, Miranda, whose head was hidden under the girl's
skirt, rose up too, her mouth still fastened on the little girl's cunt,
sucking away on her slit like a goddamn human vacuum cleaner.  He shook
Samantha a couple of times until her dangling panties fell from her right
foot, where they had snagged on her shoe.  He released his grip from her
left armpit and quickly grabbed her right ankle.  He then spun the
light-as-a-feather six-year-old counterclockwise, grabbing her other ankle
with his left hand as she was turned upside-down, her face now mere inches
from his cock.  This sudden movement had released the girl's pussy from
Miranda's leeching mouth with a loud sucking noise, which was followed
immediately by a disappointing moan from Miranda.  But when Samantha's
little red face hove into view a second later, Miranda sighed happily and
quickly put a lip-lock on her, stabbing her tongue into the girl's violated
mouth, which now smelled wonderfully of cock.  As Miranda mauled the
shocked Samantha's mouth with her own, relishing her new friend's soft
pliant lips and tongue, she got even more excited at the thought that this
was probably the first time Samantha had gotten a taste of her own pussy.
Miranda liked molesting little girls as much as her master.  Of course, he
already knew that.  After all, that was why she had been chosen for this
escapade.



   Gravity had done its job and Samantha's long skirt, now inside-out,
draped over the little girl's torso and head, and also partially enclosed
the voracious Miranda, half-hiding her from view as she eagerly
french-kissed the little red-haired bitch.  Samantha's beautiful ass and
puffy slit were now on full display as she hung suspended upside-down in
mid-air.  There was a small wooden bench jutting out from the wall only a
foot or so away, so Ron took a step and let the girl's head and shoulders
sag onto it.  As the bench took her weight, he spread her legs farther and
shifted his grip from her ankles to the back of her spread thighs.  He now
let the bench take her full weight as he stepped into the breach formed by
her legs.  She was in an uncomfortable position: upside-down with her bent
head and shoulders pressing firmly against the wood slats, her back against
the dressing room wall, while a grown man pushed himself between her split
legs, both extended at right angles to her body.  She couldn't move and she
could hardly breathe.  And she was still too stunned to say anything.  But
even if she had found her voice, it was unlikely that she would have been
heard since Miranda's hungry lips were devouring her own.



   Ron spit a couple of times into his hand and lubed his cock with the
saliva.  It was all he had.  Fortunately, Miranda had already moistened the
girl's pussy with her slobbery mouth.  Ron rubbed his glans around the
girl's pussy lips, pressing forward with his pelvis until they parted.  He
suddenly shoved hard enough to make the wall shake.  He felt the barrier of
her hymen give way as his cock quickly glided forward into her guts.  It is
not possible to describe the feeling, thought Ron, gazing down at his
handiwork, as the girl's yielding fuck-tunnel quivered gently on his
half-embedded shaft.  It was a Kodak moment, no doubt about it.  She was so
fucking hot and tight that there was no holding back now.  His cum boiled
up in his balls like the water in a tea-kettle right before it whistles. 
The pleasure radiating through his body was so intense that his legs nearly
gave out as his cock erupted in the little girl's speared slit.  Ron
couldn't help but moan as his cum and her blood, having nowhere to go
inside the girl's tight pussy, overflowed like a street sewer, running down
the crease between her ass cheeks.  Beautiful.



   Moments later, sensing what was going on topside, Miranda's eager face
suddenly popped into view out from under the girl's skirt.  In a flash, she
was lapping away first at Ron's withdrawn cock and then at the girl's
pussy, wanting them both so badly that she shifted between them like a
little she-devil possessed.  As Ron stood there half-dazed, watching his
little Miranda polish of the sloppings, he felt so wonderfully happy.  He
loved his life.  This was it.  His calling, if you will.  Some men know
that they were meant to be actors or politicians or clowns.  Ron now
knew--revealed to him in a moment of stunning clarity as Miranda ate out
the hapless Samantha--that he was meant to be a pedophile, a fucker of
little girls.  So be it, then.  No guilt.  No regrets.  No matter the
risks. On with the show, this was it.



   After that it was just a blur.  He remembered cleaning up Samantha very
quickly with her own panties, then giving the reviving girl a good smack
across the chops with an open hand so that she was again temporarily
stunned.  He vaguely remembered carrying her out of the store into the
bright sunlight of the parking lot, her little head on his shoulder.  He
was so delirious with lust that he had stupidly stuck his right hand up
under her skirt, oblivious to what any onlookers might think.  He had a
thumb in her dribbling cunt and his index and middle fingers in her tight
asshole, holding her ass to his chest like a bowling ball.  With his other
hand he held Miranda's little hand as she skipped alongside.  Nobody would
suspect that he was actually kidnapping anyone.  It just looked like the
little girl had tired out and was taking a nap, her sister running along
beside her daddy.  He recalled dumping her in the back of the van.  Miranda
had immediately jumped in and had begun wildly licking the little girl's
cum-slickened pussy and ass before he had even closed the doors.  He did
remember driving off just as a security vehicle screeched to a halt in
front of the doors that they had just come out of moments before.  Another
close one.  They would catch him sooner or later.  He was just hoping it
would be later.



   Man, what a story, thought Danny, awaking from his reverie, cock in
hand. Now little Samantha had become the favorite plaything of Senator O.,
the famous orator.  Well into his seventies, it was hard to believe that
the crusty old politician could be so horny.  He was over at the Stray
Kitty Ranch nearly every other day.  The senator, known to the rest of the
world as an untiring advocate of children's causes, was better known among
the little slave girls as a sadistic bastard with an oversized, crooked
cock.  He liked to slap little girls around, dig his long fingernails into
their soft, yielding flesh until he drew blood, and then fuck them so hard
that they usually got dizzyed-up and lost consciousness.  Samantha had
become his flavor-of-the-month piece of ass ever since she had arrived.  As
Ron had recognized when he first saw her in the mall, she was the kind of
little girl that just seemed to beg for a cock in every hole.  But one
thing the senator really liked about Samantha: she was as flexible as a
ragdoll.  He could manipulate her body, arms, and legs into any position he
wanted before he started fucking her.



   The senator had become fond of one particular sex act with Samantha,
repeating it over and over.  With the help of one of the ranch's henchmen,
he would first bend her lower legs back and bind her ankles to her thighs
with several turns of fish line that cut into her soft flesh.  He would
then tie her little freckled wrists behind her back with a length of nylon
cord.  Using a long stout rope, he would next tie one end to her bound
wrists and thread the other end through a pulley suspended from the
twelve-foot ceiling.  He would hoist her up until her knees were four or
five feet off of the carpeted floor before he secured her in place.  The
little girl's arms were stretched up and behind her back, her straining
shoulder sockets taking all her body weight as she dangled from the ceiling
in a very awkward and painful position, squirming all the while like a fish
on a hook.  Standing on a chair behind her, the senator would clasp her
tiny waist with his large hands and then slowly skewer her little butthole
with his giant lubricated cock.  After he had wormed most of his crooked
cock into her hot, stretched asshole, he would be handed a pair of
drumsticks from the henchman.  The senator would then use her little head
like a snare drum as he beat out the rhythm to his favorite songs blasting
out from the in-room stereo.



   The girl stuggled and cried pitifully, which only served to spur the
senator to whack her head even harder, until he could actually see the
knots mushrooming on her scalp.  When she finally wore out and quit moving,
he would prod her ribs with the drumsticks to get her to squirm around on
his embedded cock.  When he felt ready to come, he would cut the rope with
a knife and watch her abused body freefall to the floor like a broken
pinata.  The spry old man would then spring from the chair and land on her
like an old cat pouncing on a baby mouse.  Holding her little head in his
strong, gnarly hands, he would furiously hunch her upturned face, his cock
stabbing into her eyes and probing at her slack-jawed mouth, sometimes even
battering into her tiny earholes as if he wanted to brain-fuck her.  He
usually finished-up by slathering her picture-perfect face with great gobs
of cum, after which he would shovel his angular cock deep into her throat,
where the little red-haired bitch got a good taste of her reamed-out ass
from his shit-stained prick.  Typical politician, the senator.



   Danny looked farther ahead in his appointment book.  Hmmm, his old
business pal, George M., would be over at 2:30 for a late lunch bite.  That
was the standing joke at the Stray Kitty Ranch, at least among the men. 
George's fetish was biting.  He would first truss-up a little girl on the
bed so that she was completely helpless and unable to move.  He would then
lick every square inch of her naked soft body and face, getting it all wet
and glistening.  Next he would begin nibbling on her flesh, kind of
tickling and teasing with his teeth and tongue.  Once he had the little
girl squirming with pleasure, he would start biting for real.  He usually
began on her little feet, where he would bite down on her toes, increasing
the pressure until she began to cry out in pain.  He would then slowly move
up her calves and thighs, leaving deep indentations in her flesh, the child
writhing within her constraints as she screamed herself hoarse at the top
of her lungs.



   When he got tired of her screams, he would fill her open mouth with his
eight-inch cock, effectively muting the little bitch.  Then he would keep
on biting her stomach, chest and arms while he worked three fingers into
her cunt, pinching and prodding all the while as she gagged on his buried
cock.  He loved the taste of the little girl's fragrant sweaty flesh,
especially when he bit hard enough to draw blood and leave teethmarks that
persisted for days.  Sometimes he would create giant purple hickies all
over the little girl's body as he sucked hard, bringing the blood up under
the skin's surface.  He would always come in her pussy while he sucked and
bit her neck like some kind of demented vampire.  After he filled her guts
with cum, he would venture south and bite on her pussy lips as he sucked
the cum out of her tiny cunt.



   Such was his reputation, that when a little girl heard that she had been
selected to be George's whore for that day, she would sometimes faint from
pure dread.  Usually his biting had no lasting effects, but once he got so
carried away that he had actually bitten off the right earlobe of their
only eight-year-old, Jennifer.  As a result, Ron and Danny had to assess
George a large fine as a lesson to him and others that permanent injury to
a stray kitty was not acceptable, unless, of couse, the little girl was a
resident of the snuff room.  They had to pay a lot more to play with a
snuff girl.



   And speaking of Jennifer, she had a four o'clock with Dr.  T., the
world-renowned pediatrician and cardiologist, who had performed the first
successful heart transplant on a child.  One would think that as a
children's doctor he would have access to all of the little girl pussy he
could possibly want.  But apparently it was too risky most of the time,
although he confessed to having once face-fucked a stunningly beautiful
little girl while she lay unmoving in a hospital bed, so high on morphine
because of her terminal cancer that she was incapable of speech.  Because
he unloaded so much cum into her choking mouth and throat, the attached
body sensors registered a code blue emergency, which brought hospital staff
rushing to her bedside.  Fortunately for him, the famous doctor had the
presence of mind to make up a good story while he "saved" her life by
performing an unnecessary tracheotomy.  He told everyone that she had
thrown-up on some curdled milk and then had choked on it.  Good thing that
the doctor made sure the pathology lab didn't get a look at the so-called
curdled milk--they would have seen millions of the doctor's healthy sperm
swimming in the soup.



   The good doctor, who everyone at the Stray Kitty Ranch called Dr. 
Bigbone because of his gargantuan cock, had taken a particular liking to
Jennifer.  This poor, shy girl had been easily snatched from a barrio in
the inner city, where she had been living on the streets.  She hadn't even
been missed by anyone.  Life at the Stray Kitty Ranch was in some ways
better for her than the street.  At least she got fed and had a warm place
to sleep.  After they had cleaned her up, they realized that they had
uncovered a diamond in the rough.  Her natural beauty shone in her face,
even when she was undergoing the most intensive fuck session imaginable. 
Quiet and reserved, she kept to herself, her hands folded in her lap
whenever she wasn't being cornholed or otherwise mauled by one of the
johns. But she was the kind of girl that was destined to be abused.  The
genuine grunting noises that escaped her throat when she was being badly
mistreated were certain to harden the cock of any red-blooded pedophile.



   As Danny recalled, Dr.  Bigbone had no problem getting it up for the
gentle Jennifer.  And getting it up was no easy trick.  According to the
doctor's own estimate, it took about a quart of blood to fully engorge the
twelve full inches of his monstrous cock.  The thing looked like a billy
club hanging between his legs.  At the first session with the good doctor,
Jennifer had taken half his cock into her ass before passing out.  But
worse was to come.  She woke up spread-eagled and face-up on a bed, all
four limbs tied tightly to the bedposts.  The doctor had then performed
some electrical experiments on the hapless eight-year-old.  Using a knife,
he cut off one end of an extension cord and stripped back a couple of
inches of the insulation, exposing the pair of copper wires.  He plugged
the other end of the cord into an outlet and began touching various parts
of her body with the bared wire-ends.  When he found a spot on her body
that produced the desired reaction, his cock would jerk upwards like a huge
puppet on a string.



   As the alternating current generated by 110 volts of electricity surged
through her body, her muscles convulsed so hard that she literally lifted
from the bed, back arching, as she thrashed about like a newly-landed fish.
Her muscles lost all self-control.  She trembled violently even when she
wasn't being shocked.  When he touched her clitoris with the bare wires,
she pissed herself, the urine bubbling up through her spasming pussy lips
like a tiny fountain.  He pulled the two wires further apart so that he
could touch both of her little nipples at the same time.  Boy, did she ever
dance the horizontal mambo as sparks jumped on her flat chest, producing
burns the size of a dime.  The acrid fumes rising up from her jerking body
made Dr.  Bigbone's eyes water, while the eight-year-old's eyes rolled back
into her head--only the whites showing--as her ball-churning shrieks
resonated at an electrical frequency of 60 hertz.



   He took over an hour to finish, but the good doctor did manage to get
his nut.  Straddling her body as her stood over her in the bed--being
extremely careful that he didn't touch her--he masturbated his billy club
dick while using his free hand to swing the bare ends of the dangling wire
across her face like a pendulum.  The doctor stroked his cock with every
swing, as the little girl's jaws loudly snapped closed when the bare wires
brushed over her scorched lips.  He stopped long enough to cover her face
with what seemed like a gallon of his copious frothy cum.  He then touched
the wires to her cum-covered face, cackling with glee as the cum boiled and
spat on her pale skin.  Dr.  Mengele himself could have learned something
from Dr.  Bigbone.



   Danny didn't need to look at his appointment book to know that the main
event that night was Heather's initiation.  In anticipation that Ron would
be bringing in a new stray kitty that day, all of the regulars had been
invited to attend the breaking-in ceremony.  Doctor Bigbone, George the
biter, the senator of crooked cock fame, and all the rest were sure to be
there.  Heather was to be received into the group in the same manner that
all new girls were, a ritual they had coined the Stray Kitty's Rite of
Passage, which was not unlike a gangbang, only a hell of a lot worse. 
Little Heather would be dressed-up in the most sluttish outfit imaginable.
She then would be the guest of honor, as the other little girls performed
sexual warm-up acts onstage before introducing the new girl to the
masturbating male audience.



   Heather would undergo a number of sexual and physical endurance tests to
make sure she measured up to the standards of the institution.  If she
passed, the finale involved branding little Heather on the ass with the
symbol of the Stray Kitty Ranch.  This marked her as the ranch's property
until her death or sale.  If she failed, she would be relegated to the
snuff room, where she would undergo the most punishing torture meted out by
the most sadistic johns.  In any case, after the ceremony, the little girls
would then disperse into the crowd to perform whatever sexual favors the
men desired.  It was a very festive occasion, and all the men were looking
forward to it.  Only one girl had failed the Rite: little rebellious Amber.
Her attitude hadn't measured up.  She was now in the snuff room suffering
from intensive punishment while awaiting the final stroke, which would come
any day now, as soon as the snuff film producer they had hired came to
town. They were going to produce a very elaborate snuff film, with dialogue
and a real script.  They were sparing no expense for this production. 
There was going to be a pile of money made on this one.



   All in all it had been a good day, and promised to be even a better
night, thought Danny, as he stood up from his office chair so that he could
pull up his underwear and trousers.  Life was good at the Stray Kitty Ranch
when you were fucking all the premium preteen pussy you wanted, whenever
you wanted.  And making lots of money at it to boot.  Looking at his watch,
Danny figured he had time to ass-poke Holly, their cherub-faced
four-year-old, who was presently undergoing her daily stretching exercises
on the rack.  Ah, what a life.





   Bozo Da Klown

   Preteen Bound, Ch.9

   M/m pedo kidnap bdsm



   Intro ch 9:

   "Oh, sir, sir, could I ask you to do me a big favor?" Ron looked around
at the young woman tapping him on the shoulder.  Christ, what else could go
wrong.  He had been cruising the large crowded airport terminal for several
hours and was getting very frustrated.  So far the day had been a complete
washout.  Posing as a pilot in full uniform--complete with epaulets and
gold-braided hat--he had seen dozens of little girls who would have made
beautiful additions to the Stray Kitty Ranch, the preteen whorehouse that
he and his business partner, Danny, had founded a few months before, where
they maintained a stable of the most delicious little female sex slaves,
ages four to nine.  He was on a mission that day to add to their harem, but
it looked like he might come up empty-handed, a rare event for someone as
accomplished as he was in the art of little girl snatching.  His adrenaline
had flowed more than once that day as he started to make his move, only to
abort for one reason or another.  And of course there was more to it than
not getting the job done.  Little girls were his lifeblood.  He hadn't had
any strange since he had kidnapped the gorgeous six-year-old Heather from
the art museum a few weeks before.  Now he felt a gnawing hunger that could
only be satisfied by kidnapping and fucking some beautiful little
girl--preferably 'Grade A' prime hairless pussy, the kind of succulent
juicy little girl slit that just melted in his mouth as he reamed her tiny
asshole with three fingers, all the while watching her beautiful childish
face twist and turn as she snorted and grunted in pain.  Shit, he was
getting horny just thinking about it.  And he was getting absolutely
nowhere.  Hence the rising frustration.



   Preteen Bound, Ch.9



   "Oh, sir, sir, could I ask you to do me a big favor?" Ron looked around
at the young woman tapping him on the shoulder.  Christ, what else could go
wrong.  He had been cruising the large crowded airport terminal for several
hours and was getting very frustrated.  So far the day had been a complete
washout.  Posing as a pilot in full uniform--complete with epaulets and
gold-braided hat--he had seen dozens of little girls who would have made
beautiful additions to the Stray Kitty Ranch, the preteen whorehouse that
he and his business partner, Danny, had founded a few months before, where
they maintained a stable of the most delicious little female sex slaves,
ages four to nine.  He was on a mission that day to add to their harem, but
it looked like he might come up empty-handed, a rare event for someone as
accomplished as he was in the art of little girl snatching.  His adrenaline
had flowed more than once that day as he started to make his move, only to
abort for one reason or another.  And of course there was more to it than
not getting the job done.  Little girls were his lifeblood.  He hadn't had
any strange since he had kidnapped the gorgeous six-year-old Heather from
the art museum a few weeks before.  Now he felt a gnawing hunger that could
only be satisfied by kidnapping and fucking some beautiful little
girl--preferably 'Grade A' prime hairless pussy, the kind of succulent
juicy little girl slit that just melted in his mouth as he reamed her tiny
asshole with three fingers, all the while watching her beautiful childish
face twist and turn as she snorted and grunted in pain.  Shit, he was
getting horny just thinking about it.  And he was getting absolutely
nowhere.  Hence the rising frustration.



   And now this: some strange bitch pestering him for a favor.  What is it
with people, anyway?  Still, for appearance's sake, he had to maintain the
identity he had assumed.  Pasting on a crooked smile, Ron looked the woman
up and down and said in a kindly tone, "Yes, ma'am, what can I do for you?"
The woman smiled back.  "Well, sir, you see, I was wondering if you would
be so kind as to escort my little Jimmy into the men's restroom.  He has to
go so badly, and he's too young to go in there by himself--and I'm afraid
that it wouldn't be proper and all for me to go in there with him, it being
full of men and everything, and me being a woman and all...and I don't
think it proper that he use the ladies' room either," she said, blushing a
bit.  Looking at him with big hopeful eyes, she blurted out, "We're from
Kansas," as if that said it all.



   They were standing across from the men's restroom in the main terminal.
Ron had been loitering there, leaning on a marble column as he appeared to
be reading a newspaper, trying his best to be inconspicuous as he monitored
the little pussies entering and leaving the adjoining women's restroom
forty feet away.  Now this thirty-something woman with her little boy in
tow had assumed that, simply because of his uniform, he must be the
trustworthy type who would happily perform this favor.  If she only knew
the truth, Ron chuckled to himself, she would run screaming back to Kansas.
But then most people would never suspect him.  He looked so normal: average
height, mid-thirties, medium build, good-looking, the air of a competent
professional.  But inside he was a committed, if not demented, pedophile, a
molester--without equal--of little girls.



   He mulled over her request for a half second.  He wanted to say fuck you
and your little boy too, but then a light went on inside his head.  What
the fuck, he thought, why not.  Boys weren't his thing, but nothing was
happening with the little girl scene right now.  This could be a
heaven-sent opportunity anyway.  Danny and he had considered the idea of
kidnapping a young boy to satisfy the requests of some of their boy-lover
clients, who up to this point had had to settle for fucking the little
slavegirls' assholes to get off.



   Grinning from ear-to-ear, he said, "Why sure, ma'am, it'd be my pleasure
to help you with your young boy." Kneeling down so that he was at
face-level with the child, who appeared to be around five or six years old,
he gazed into his hazel eyes and softly said, "Hi, Jimmy.  My name is Dick
Hancock.  I'm a pilot.  What do you say we go use the john over there,
partner." He sized the boy up quickly.  Thick, brown hair, cut in the
popular bowl-shape; beautiful, almost feminine face; full red lips, perfect
for cocksucking; nice fuckable little ass; slender, almost fragile body. 
He was dressed in blue jeans, a red t-shirt and white sneakers.  The boy
stared back and said "Okay, Mr.  Hancock" in a shy voice, then put a thumb
in his mouth.  Oral fixation, thought Ron.  He seemed to be a little too
old for that bad habit.  Ron quickly visualized his cock taking the place
of the kid's thumb.  Hmmm, not bad.  He could come all over little Jimmy's
pretty face, no problem.



   "Thank you so much, Mr.  Hancock," sighed the woman, obviously relieved.
"I'll wait right here," she added, as Ron rose up, took Jimmy's hand, and
headed off for the restroom entrance only fifteen feet away, weaving around
the heavy foot traffic.  The hallway was crowded with mid-afternoon
travelers in a hurry to catch their connections.  Ron's mind was spinning
out the possible kidnap scenarios, playing them through in his head.  There
was only one way into and out of the restroom.  He knew she would be
watching it like a hawk, so he had to come up with a really good idea to
pull the snatch off.  In the meantime, he needed to survey the merchandise
before making a commitment.  Ron was a fickle shopper.



   They entered the large, fluorescent-lit restroom, built to handle fifty
people easily.  The room was noisy with men moving around, along with the
jet engine blast of electric hand dryers and an overhead PA squawking out
financial news, interrupted often by blaring flight announcements.  On one
side there was a long row of partitioned urinals with an equally long row
of sinks directly across from them.  The other half of the restroom
contained about twenty stainless steel stalls, ten on a side.  Ron led the
boy back to the empty handicapped stall in the far corner.  No one ever
seemed to use the handicapped stalls, thought Ron.  They were the perfect
spot for a child molester, since they had lots of room to maneuver, they
were generally set apart from the other stalls, and no one would dare to
intrude and thereby embarrass a presumed handicapped person, regardless of
the scuffling and other noises that the typical molester might make.



   Half of the stalls were occupied, but fortunately the stall adjoining
the one he had selected was unoccupied too.  Won't be any neighbor
listening in.  So far, so good, as Ron followed the boy into the roomy
stall, closing the door behind them.  Ron locked the door and turned around
to face Jimmy, who was surprised that Mr.  Hancock had followed him in. 
"Do you need to go number one or number two," asked Ron sweetly, as he
shifted places with the boy and then sat down on the toilet seat, putting
his hands on the child's shoulders and looking into his eyes.  "I need to
go number one and number two," said Jimmy, wondering why the pilot was
sitting on the toilet seat when it was he who had to go to the bathroom. 
"Oh, you really do have a problem, then, don't you Jimmy," whispered Ron,
as he expertly unbuckled the boy's black leather belt, popped the metal
snap on his jeans, and pulled his zipper down.  "Let me help you with these
tight jeans so you can get the job done," he murmured into the little boy's
ear, his lips almost touching.



   Ron pushed his hands down inside the kid's loosened waistband and moved
them around to the back.  He gently worked his cold fingertips under the
elastic at the top of Jimmy's briefs, noting as he did so how smooth and
silky his skin felt, just like a little girl's.  He slid his fingers
downward inside of Jimmy's underwear, way down, until he had a warm soft
ass cheek cupped in each palm.  He began kneading the small dense mounds of
yielding flesh while he wormed his slimy tongue deep into little Jimmy's
earhole.  "Oh, Jimmy, my boy, you have such a lovely little ass," he
whispered.  "Would you mind too much if I fucked you?" he mumbled, as he
corkscrewed the tip of his right index finger into the little boy's moist,
puckered asshole.



   Jimmy wasn't sure what was going on, but he was frozen with fear, that
much was for sure.  He just stood there as Mr.  Hancock, the pilot, played
with his pooper, slobbered in his ear, and said things that he knew were
naughty.  The pilot's actions and words weren't totally unfamiliar to him,
since his daddy used to do the same things, even worse, before his mommy
found out and divorced him.  As if in a state of shock--which in fact he
may well have been--all he could say in a pipsqueak voice was "Mister, uh,
Mister Han..uh..cock..." as Ron managed to force a full inch of his finger
up into Jimmy's extremely tight ass tunnel.  By now Ron was really getting
turned-on.  He had never thought a boy could have this effect on him, but
if his fully erect seven-inch cock was any indication, he was going to love
fucking little Jimmy.  But that would have to wait until later.  No time
now.  The merchandise was very acceptable, but he just had to put the child
on lay-away for awhile.



   With a supreme effort of will, he pulled his hands out of the boy's
pants.  He quickly sniffed his shit-stained finger.  Ummm..umm good.  He
thrust the finger under Jimmy's nose, letting him get a strong whiff. 
"What do you think, kid, is your ass sweet or what?" Jimmy just stared,
speechless.  Ron peeled the boy's underwear down to the top of his thighs
and gazed at his little cock.  It was half-erect from the attention that
Ron had given his asshole.  Good God, thought Ron, amazed: between the
boy's oral fixation and anal sensitivity, Jimmy was going to become the
perfect little boy-slut, fitting right in with his female counterparts at
the Stray Kitty Ranch.



   As Ron sat there and watched the boy's eyes cloud over with shock, he
figured there was just time for a little mouth action.  Ron really needed
to shove his cock past those full sweet lips and into the warm wet interior
of Jimmy's highly fuckable mouth.  "Now, Jimmy, don't you move or make any
sound," he whispered, "or else your lovely mother will be in big trouble.
In fact, she might get hurt real bad.  Okay, Jimmy?" Jimmy moved his head
up and down, just perceptibly.  Good.  He understood.  Here goes, then.



   Ron stood up, unzipped his fly, then reached into his pants and clumsily
extracted his fully erect cock, much to the surprise of little Jimmy from
Kansas.  The boy's head was at the perfect cocksucking height as Ron's cock
bobbed like a cobra in front of the kid's disbelieving eyes.  "Are you
hungry, Jimmy?" asked Ron nicely, as he clasped the sides of the boy's head
tightly with both hands.  No answer.  "Sure you are Jimmy, all little boys
are hungry for an adult cock.  Open up now, Jimmy, and let my old cock
visit your young sweet mouth." As an afterthought, he added, "Your mother
loves to suck cock, so you should too.  You wouldn't want to disappoint her
now, would you?  Suck on it, baby, come on, suck and lick it good.  Don't
make me have to hurt your mother because you were a bad boy and didn't suck
me off."



   Jimmy's mouth didn't open, so Ron maneuvered his precum-slickened
cockhead around the boy's face, prodding, batting, even slapping the boy's
cheeks and chin, his turned-up nose, and his red pouty lips.  "Suck it,
Jimmy, and your mommy won't get hurt," Ron again threatened.  Holding the
kid's head firmly in place, Ron increased the pressure of his cockhead on
the boy's lips until they suddenly parted.  "That's a good boy," coaxed
Ron. "Now you're getting the idea, babycakes." The outer gates open, Ron
thrust past the boy's unresisting teeth, watching as his cock disappeared
halfway into the smooth wet inner sanctum of Jimmy's mouth.  The sensation
was overwhelming as Ron looked down at the child's uplifted choirboy face,
his innocent hazel eyes locked on his own.  He withdrew his cock nearly all
the way, letting the purple-reddish tip play on the boy's lips for a few
seconds, and then shoveled it back inside his warm wet receptive mouth,
this time all the way to the back of the boy's throat.  Jimmy nearly
gagged. "Easy there, Jimmy," Ron joked.  "Don't be in a hurry.  You're
going to get all of the cock you want.  Suck it good, baby.  Remember what
I said about your mommy."



   Then to Ron's total amazement, he felt a slight sucking pressure as the
boy's lips formed a seal around his cock.  He was even more shocked to feel
the boy's tongue tentatively exploring the length of his embedded prick. 
Oh, mercy.  This fucking kid was going to give him a blowjob!  He was a
natural after all!  Ron carefully sat back down on the toilet seat as the
boy moved with him, maintaining his tight mouth-grip.  Jimmy sank to his
knees between Ron's legs, his head now moving up and down of its own accord
on Ron's slick cockshaft.  Ron felt the kid's right hand worm its way
through the bottom of his fully open fly, then pry past his underwear, his
little fingers digging through the fabric as he searched for Ron's balls.
When he found them, he began softly, carefully massaging first one, then
the other, as though they were highly breakable.  Ron was in total bliss as
the little boy picked up the pace, sucking noisily like a hungry,
breastfeeding baby.  "Yeah, Jimmy, do it, baby, you've got the idea now,
sweetcheeks," Ron intoned.  He was in little boy heaven for the first time.



   Lifting his hands from the boy's head and locking them behind his own,
Ron just leaned back on the seat and marveled as Jimmy's head bobbed up and
down on the full length of his cock.  Hungrily devouring Ron's fuckpole as
if he hadn't eaten for days, the little boy kept his eyes fixed on Ron's
the entire time.  Jimmy used his little left hand to tightly grip the base
of Ron's shaft, squeezing and pulling it like a professional blowjob
artist. The boy would frequently lift his head from Ron's cock and lick
along the shaft, his little pink tongue darting about, sliding up and down,
paying particular attention to the glans, as he rubbed Ron's glistening
prick all over his wet little face.  No matter what he was doing to Ron's
cock, he would constantly keep his beautiful eyes fastened on Ron's.  Man,
this little fucking kid from Kansas was giving him one of the most erotic
blowjobs he had ever had.  He was going to make a wonderful addition to the
flock of child-whores at the Stray Kitty Ranch.



   Pressure began building in Ron's balls as the child continued to
greedily lick, suck, and swallow his cock.  Combined with the boy's hand
massage of his cockshaft and balls, Ron couldn't hold back any longer. 
Grabbing the back of Jimmy's head with both hands, he pulled his little
face-hole up his cock until the kid's nose was practically in his pubic
hair.  The first shot exploded off the back of the boy's throat, ricocheted
up through his sinus cavity, and then blew out his nostrils into Ron's
crotch.  Jimmy, seemingly unfazed, tried to inhale the two strings of cum
back into his nose as if they were long hangers.  Ron quickly adjusted the
angle of the child's head so that he was able to swallow the remaining
cumshots, the little boy gulping furiously with each burst--his tiny adam's
apple yo-yo-ing up and down--as he tried to keep up with the huge quantity
of hot jism flooding his throat.



   Ron finally finished and just sat there, admiring the young boy as the
kid's head quit moving, his mouth full of cock, his eyes still on Ron's, as
cum hung jiggling from his nose like disgusting boogers.  After several
seconds, Ron released his hands from the boy's head and began slowly
pulling his deflating, sticky cock from the child's mouth.  Jimmy was
reluctant to let go, his cheeks concave as he continued to keep a tight
seal on the retreating tube of flesh.  "That's a good boy, Jimmy, time to
stop sucking now, baby," Ron said soothingly, patting the boy on the head
as if he were a little dog that had performed a neat trick for the first
time.  Ron stood up, his cock popping out of Jimmy's mouth with a slurping
noise.  He tucked his shrinking dick back into his pants and zipped up. 
The mother would be extremely concerned by now, since they had been in the
restroom for over five minutes.



   He lifted Jimmy up and sat him on the toilet.  He pulled the kid's jeans
and underwear down around his ankles.  Ron couldn't help but notice that
the little boy had a stiffy, all two inches of his slender hairless cock
standing at attention like a pale tin soldier.  The kid not only knew how
to give blowjobs, he apparently liked giving them too.  He just had to ask.
"Where did you ever learn to suck a cock like that, Jimmy?" The child gazed
up at Ron, his doe eyes full of heartbreak.  "My daddy teached me.  But
he's gone now.  Mommy divorced him cause he liked me more than her. 
Leastways, that's what he said before he left for good." The boy's air of
resignation was palpable.



   For one of the few times in his life that he could recall, Ron felt a
sharp pang of guilt.  He remembered his daddy making him suck his dick a
long, long time ago, right before he left forever too.  But shit happens,
Ron thought, shaking his head, as if to shake away the sudden sympathy he
felt for the boy.  "Too bad, kid.  He taught you well, anyway.  You're a
helluva good cocksucker." Jimmy just lowered his head and said nothing.



   Instantly reverting to his usual, uncaring self, Ron continued in a
sterner voice.  "Now you stay here, Jimmy, while I go wash my hands and
stuff.  I might be a little while, but don't you leave, because there are
some mean men around here who might steal you.  Understand?  You'll be safe
in here.  When I leave, you lock the door and don't let anyone in unless
it's me, okay?" said Ron.  "Okay," said Jimmy, forlornly, as he wiped his
cum-dripping nose with the back of his hand.  "You do number one and number
two while I'm gone, you hear?" The boy shook his head yes.  Ron opened the
door, stepped out of the stall, and closed the door behind him.  He
listened for the sound of the door being locked before he walked away.



   As he neared the restroom exit, he broke into a trot and furrowed his
brow as if he were worried about something.  As he emerged into the busy
hallway, he saw Jimmy's mother wave to him.  Her look of relief changed
dramatically to one of serious concern when she saw from his face that
something was wrong.  Her expression then turned into one of near-hysteria
when she realized that her precious little Jimmy wasn't with him.  Knocking
into people, she fairly raced towards him, meeting him more than halfway as
he strode towards her.  "Where's Jimmy?" she shrieked.  "He scampered out
of the restroom a minute or so ago while I was still in a stall doing my
business," said Ron, acting a little embarrassed, his alert eyes shifting
over the crowd as though he were looking for the boy.  "He told me through
the stall door that he was going to find you.  I said no, don't do that,
but he ran out anyway.  It took me a little while to get decent.  Didn't
you see him come out?" exclaimed Ron, subtly shifting the blame to her. 
"No!  I didn't," screamed the panicking woman, totally beside herself now
with the possible implications, most of them horrible.



   "Okay, let's not panic," said Ron, reassuringly.  "He couldn't have
gotten far," he said, as he pulled a cell phone out of his jacket pocket.
Ron noticed that some people were watching them.  He gently moved her out
of the busy hallway into the nearby empty gate area where it was safe from
eavesdroppers.  "I'm going to call security.  Since I'm a pilot, they will
drop everything to work on this.  Don't worry, we'll find him very soon."



   He quickly punched some random numbers into the phone, as the distraught
woman wrung her hands, looking first one way down the hall, then the other,
the worst of all possible nightmares slowly dawning upon her.  "Listen," he
said to the woman, phone to his ear as he tried to act the part of a man in
control, "you look for him down that end of the hallway and I'll search for
him the other way.  I'll meet you back here in five minutes, okay?" She
looked up at him, anguish written all over her face.  "My baby, where is my
baby?" she groaned.  She was losing it big time, thought Ron.



   He then focused his attention on the cell phone as he pretended that he
had gotten through to security.  "Hello, this is Dick Hancock, pilot for
Northeastern Airways, reporting an airport emergency," he said with
authority into the powered-down cell phone.  "We have a lost child
situation in the main terminal.  The child was last seen near the men's
restroom by gate 39.  The child is male, five or six years of age, brown
hair, wearing blue jeans and a red t-shirt.  His name is Jimmy.  Issue a
code 27 immediately, repeat, code 27.  His mother is helping with the
search, as am I.  You must scramble the airport search team now." Ron
thought it was a nice touch adding the code 27, which of course had no
meaning whatsoever.



   He pretended to listen to the response, allowing his face to lighten up
as though he were getting good news.  The woman's eyes were riveted to his.
"They've got the situation in hand," he told her.  "They're going to
station people at all of the exit areas until he is found.  That means we
can search for him now, knowing that he can't get out, or be taken out."
Ron winced mentally.  Shouldn't have said that last bit; it will only make
her more worried.



   Ron continued.  "He's probably just in some snack shop nearby.  You know
how kids are, always going where the candy is.  You go ahead and search
that way, and I'll meet you back here in five minutes.  Don't worry, we'll
find him." This time she looked a little less hysterical, but she still
seemed unsure of what to do.  He had to say something else to get her
moving.  "The search team will be coming from there," he said, pointing in
the direction he wanted her to go.  "You can meet them halfway." That
clinched it.  Uh...okay, Mr.  Hancock, I'll...uh...meet you back here
in..uh..five minutes..I guess," she managed to sob out, as tears streamed
down her face.  She suddenly turned around and grabbed Ron by his jacket
lapels, locking her reddened eyes onto his like a woman possessed.  For one
sickening moment, Ron thought the gig was up.  "Find my boy, Mr.  Hancock,
please, he's all I've got left." For the second time that day, he felt a
stab of guilt.  God, he was losing his edge.



   She released him and started to wander off in the direction he had
wanted her to go, her head swiveling all around as she set out, somewhat
disoriented, to find her dear young boy.  Ron moved off in the other
direction, but when he was sure that she could no longer see him, he
quickly doubled back and reentered the men's restroom.  He knocked on the
stall door and said that it was Mr.  Hancock, so open up, please.  The boy
opened the door.  He had finished doing his duty and was ready to go.  Ron
took off his pilot's hat and jacket and hung them on the door hook.  He put
on a pair of sunglasses and mussed up his hair a bit.  He rifled through
the jacket pockets, removing the cell phone and stuffing it into his back
pocket.



   "Listen, son, your mother had to go to the gate where your aircraft is
parked at.  We are supposed to meet her there.  We've got to hurry before
your plane leaves." Jimmy appeared a little shocked, but otherwise seemed
to take this change of events in stride.  He was scared of Mr.  Hancock and
didn't want to further anger him, and he certainly didn't want to see his
mother get hurt.  He had only done that sucking thing to the pilot's
pee-pee--the same way that his daddy had showed him--to protect his mother.
But what was all this about going to meet his mommy at the airplane?  They
had just gotten off one.  Mommy had said that this city was their new home.
But he was too frightened of the pilot to say anything or try to run away,
because his mommy might get hurt if he did.



   Ron took the child by the hand and left the restroom.  They turned and
headed in the opposite direction that the boy's mother had taken.  Ron
looked back once for signs of her.  Nothing.  They had to get out of there
quickly, though.  No telling what the mother might do, given her state of
mind.  She might run into a cop, or someone might stop her and ask what was
wrong.  Conceivably, she might even figure out that Mr.  Hancock wasn't
really a nice man after all.  He picked up the pace as he pulled the
half-running boy along behind him.



   A couple of minutes later they had exited the terminal without a hitch
and were threading their way through a huge parking garage.  He told Jimmy
that his mother was in another terminal, and that they had to drive over to
it.  Once they were in the van, it didn't matter what Jimmy thought, so Ron
didn't bother to say anything, as the child lay on the mattress in the
back, suspecting the worst, weeping for his mommy while he sucked his
thumb. Ten minutes after that, they were a couple of miles from the airport
and on the highway heading into town.



   Thirty minutes later, the boy was being very rudely introduced to the
harsh realities of his new life at the Stray Kitty Ranch, located atop a
downtown high rise.  His partner, Danny, never having had a young boy
before, had eagerly cut off the kid's jeans and underwear with a pair of
scissors--leaving his t-shirt, socks, and sneakers on--and had then
gleefully sunk his nine-inch unlubricated cockshaft into the boy's hot,
tight asshole, and was now hammering Jimmy's little body into his office
carpet as the child, face-down with his wrists bound behind his back,
squealed like a trapped piglet, unheard by anyone who gave a damn.  Ron,
who sometimes watched Danny break-in the freshly kidnapped kids, had left
Danny's office after he had dumped the boy, for some reason unable to watch
this time.  Poor, poor Jimmy.  He wasn't in Kansas anymore. Copyright (C)
1999, Bozo Da Klown.  ALL Rights Reserved

   =====================================

   This story is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, and
incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used
fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental. ======================
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