Author: Sterling
Title: Pilot Study: Terminally Ill Girl Helps Pedophiles
Summary: Meghan is 8 and has a terminal illness. How to make the
remaining months meaningful? Service to others... the doctors
suggest pedophiles. Sometimes by doing good a person can do well
-- or get well.
Keywords: Mg, ScFi, pedo, slow, Mg8, Mg5, Mg2, 20+ partners a day

NOTICE: This story contains explicit sex.

First posted 6/28/2020.

I'm always eager for comments, whether good, bad or mixed.
Comments to sterling27@live.com.

I have written many other stories and they can all be found at
/files/Authors/Sterling/ For an index see
/files/Authors/Sterling/A%20%20SUBJECT%20INDE
X.txt

There is a more user-friendly web version of most of my stories
here: /files/Authors/Sterling/www/

Sterling

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

Pilot Study: Terminally Ill Girl Helps Pedophiles

Part 1: Finding Meaning In Your Last Months

Meghan Murphy had been in and out of so many hospital rooms she
had lost track: waiting rooms, paperwork rooms, exam rooms,
sleeping rooms. Tests, poking and prodding, needles, lots and
lots of explanations of what was going to happen. Something was
wrong with her, she knew that. Sometimes her arms and legs hurt
in a way that they shouldn't for a 8-year-old girl. Now she and
her parents sat in an office room, three chairs facing a big
wooden desk, and on the other side of the desk sat a doctor.

"I'm sorry to say it's bad news," he said. "What Meghan has is
Wong-Gleitman syndrome -- a rare kind of cancer that we can't
treat effectively. I'd like to have some better way to say it,
but it's fatal."

"How long does she have?" asked her father.

"Based on every case of this we've ever seen at this stage, she
can't live more than six months..."

At that point Meghan got dizzy. She was going to die? The doctor
and her parents were still talking, but she couldn't follow what
they were saying. She was going to die. Soon. She found herself
fighting back tears. Then she thought, if there's one time when
it's OK for an 8-year-old to cry, it's when you've just found out
you're going to die. She cried softly.

As they left, her parents said there were things to talk about
when she was ready, within the next few days. The next day she
went through the motions of living -- watching TV, aimlessly
looking at one video clip after another, trying to keep that
thought away. And it did go away at times, but then it came back.
A sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She was going to die.
That afternoon she felt ready to talk with her parents about the
details.

"So..." her father said. "One choice is to do nothing. You get to
take stronger drugs so your arms and legs don't hurt. You'll be
comfortable. They expect you might live three months like that."

"Next is to do some surgeries and chemotherapy and radiation they
know about. The standard ones would probably give you another two
months. But those things have some pretty bad side effects. So
it's not clear if it's worth it."

"They could also try some drugs that they're just testing out.
They won't help you, but in a few years if some girl comes down
with this disease, maybe she'll have better options than you.
Maybe even a cure."

They talked about it back and forth, and as she was lying in bed
trying to go to sleep she thought about it again. What did she
want to do with three months? Read a few more books? She liked
books. Partly she liked learning new things. But now there wasn't
any point in learning new things because she'd just be dead and
who would care what she knew when she died? She didn't like TV
much. She knew her friends would be all awkward around her --
they already were, even before she got the last diagnosis: Poor
Meghan.

Helping other girls in the future sounded good. Be useful. Take
the experimental drugs.

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

An hour after they gave her that experimental drug, she thought
she was going to die -- sooner, not later. Everything hurt. She
threw up. Everything hurt more. They gave her stuff for the pain,
but it wasn't enough. She thought about asking if they'd just
kill her, but she knew they wouldn't. Gradually it got better,
but she didn't feel back to normal for a full 48 hours. No way
would she do more of that. Those little girls in the future would
just have to learn to die like she was learning to die.

When she was feeling more or less OK again, her parents asked to
speak with her again. This time they seemed even more nervous
than before, if that was possible. What was worse than dying?

Her father said, "You really want to help others if you can? You
said that was your highest priority."

"Yeah, but no more drugs. Not if that's what it takes."

"No, we're not suggesting that. What we're suggesting is... Well,
it's like... Um, I mean..."

He took a deep breath. "You know how babies are made. You know
about boy-girl stuff. Have you ever had any interest in doing any
of that?"

Meghan was surprised. She did do that thing in her underpants
every week or so, the one that felt better and better until it
broke in waves. Masturbation, they called it. "Uh, no, not
really."

"You ever wonder what it would be like to kiss a boy?"

She made a face, thinking of the boys in her class.

"Maybe a boy from a movie, a big boy?"

Now, that was possible, she thought. Maybe. But no TV star was
going to want to kiss her.

"Well, see, the idea here is not that you'd like it yourself, but
that the other person might like it. You know how they tell you
about good touch and bad touch and all that?"

Meghan nodded and sighed. Seems like they talked about that over
and over, when the message was pretty simple. Don't let anyone
talk you into doing stuff with private parts.

"Well, there's new thinking out there. The men who would actually
touch you are bad, but there are others who would really like to,
but they never would because they don't want to hurt you. They're
not bad, they just want something they can't have. Most men are
really strongly attracted to women for sex, but these men are
only attracted to girls. Girls your age. But of course girls your
age aren't really into sex at all, and everyone figures that if
you did anything sexual, then later on you'd regret it and it
would ruin your life. But, in your case..."

The sick feeling came to the pit of her stomach again. Right, in
her case, she was going to die. She had no life to ruin. "What
would they want to do?"

"They would like to see you naked. They'd like to lie on a bed
with you, and touch you all over. They'd kiss you. On the lips if
you wanted but mostly other places."

This sounded kind of amusing. If there weren't rules against it,
what would she care if some man saw her naked? It was just her
body -- and not a very healthy and reliable one, at that. She
shrugged.

"If you think you might be interested, I've got a couple video
clips to show you."

Her mother didn't say anything. Meghan could tell she was nervous
and upset.

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

A woman was sitting with a man. "So, tell me, what is it that
you'd really like?"

"I can't have what I'd really like. I'm not going to hurt any
girl just for what I'd like."

"But suppose we knew the girl wouldn't be hurt. Put that aside
and assume the girl doesn't mind and we know she'll be OK."

The man sighed. "I'd love to take walks, holding hands. Tell each
other everything. I'd love to buy her clothes or toys or whatever
that she really wanted. Just hold her in my arms."

"But is there anything more? Suppose the girl said she was
curious about sexual stuff and wanted to know what you'd like?"

"No girl is going to do that. Not unless she's been abused or
something."

"Go with it. Imagine she is."

The man was hesitant. "I'd love to rub her back and her front.
I'd love to take her clothes off one piece at a time. To slide my
hand up between her legs until I reached her panties..." He
shuddered. "To kiss her chest. I'd like her to lie on her stomach
in just her underpants so I could give her a back rub, and enjoy
every inch of her body. Then turn her over and give her a front
rub. Worship the nipples where nothing is growing yet, but we
know it will some day." He paused for several seconds.

"Go on," said the woman softly. "None of that is really sex...
You'd want more?"

"Yes," he said. "I'd love to pull her panties down, ever so
slowly. I'd have her spread her legs and I'd look real close,
then I'd lick her down there. Lick her and find out what she
wanted. Try to make her happy."

"Suppose she asked what she could do to make you happy?"

"Well, I'd show her my cock. Ask if she'd touch it. Ask if she'd
rub it gently. Maybe even kiss it or lick it, if she didn't
mind."

"And what would happen?"

"I'd come at some point, of course. Making sure it was some place
she wouldn't mind the mess. On her belly, maybe..."

"What would the ultimate fantasy be? The very best if you could
have everything?"

"Well... if her vagina was magically big enough... if it was big
enough I could slide it into her and have real sex with her, that
would be just amazing. I'd... come inside her, because of course
she'd be too young to get pregnant, and since I've never been
with anyone she couldn't get anything from me."

"Anything more?"

"No, not in that way. I mean, I'd love to sleep with her at
night, every night."

"But suppose you were just going to get to spend one hour with a
girl and you'd never see her again, and she wanted to make you
happy."

"Then just what I said. Coming inside her pussy." He shuddered.

"How much would you pay to do that once?"

"I don't want any prostitute. I said I don't want to hurt or
exploit anyone."

"Suppose it's not a prostitute, but someone who's willing to do
it just because she wants you to be happy. What would you pay?"

"A hundred dollars... No, a thousand... You mean I'd have this
one chance, and if I paid I could do it and if I didn't I could
never have another chance?"

"Yes."

"I'd pay... everything I have. Forty thousand. It would be worth
it, just for that once."

But he suddenly got serious again. "But it's not very much fun
thinking about what I can never have. I refuse to hurt a girl
just for my own satisfaction."

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

Meghan watched with great interest, and not once during the video
did she remember that she was going to die. When the pang came
again, she let it pass and thought again. The guy was kind of
handsome, and he was so considerate and kind. To hear him talk
you'd think a girl's body was some precious piece of art or
something. It was just a body. He'd pay forty thousand dollars to
just play with her body like that? Less if he didn't actually
stick his penis inside her, she supposed, but still a lot.

He didn't seem like a creep. He seemed very kind. He just needed
a willing girl. She'd be willing, she thought. If it would make
him so very happy. That would be one way to give back to others
before she died.

She told her parents she liked the idea and would like to learn
more.

That night in bed, when she pulled her underpants down, she found
her vagina and stuck her little finger in it. How big was it
really? How close was it to being able to take a penis? She got
her middle finger in, then two fingers. It started stretching,
but it didn't really hurt. But then when she tried three it hurt.
She couldn't get the two in all the way before it started hurting
at the end. But suddenly she thought of that experimental drug
she'd tried. She'd take something any size up her vagina in
preference to that, a millions times. No matter how much it hurt.
She'd take a knife up there, she realized... though that was a
creepy thought. But a penis? A penis in her vagina was kind of a
weird idea, but she knew that was what men and women did. It was
natural, if you were a big girl.

She was never going to get to be a big girl. She'd be happy to
try it out as an 8-year-old. Find out a bit of what it would be
like, she guessed.

Yes, she was willing to do it. Absolutely.

"The man in the video wanted to stick his penis in the girl's
vagina. Is my vagina big enough?"

"Oh... No," said the nurse. "That was his dream but it wouldn't
work with a girl your age. But men will be really happy to do
those other things."

"Can't the doctors do something to make my vagina bigger? Big
enough?"

"Oh, I'm not sure... Not sure what the long-term effects would
be..." She stopped herself. "Oh, sorry, we're not worried about
long-term effects, are we..."

The knife stabbed her stomach again, but the nurse was right, of
course. That's the only reason they would let any of this happen
is because there were no "long-term effects" to worry about.

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

To Meghan, her father was just "dad" or "daddy". But he also had
a name, of course: Jim. Jim Murphy. Her mother had a name too:
Anne. Anne Murphy.

The couple lay beside each other in bed. Jim had just turned the
light out.

"She wants them to make her vagina bigger?" said Anne.

"It was her idea."

"But that's... that's not right!"

"No, no, of course not..."

"None of this is right! I don't know why I let you talk me into
this!"

Jim waited patiently.

"A girl letting men paw her over and play with her private
parts... And ejaculating on her... I just see my little girl
covered with sperm... Yecch!"

"All true. But of course they don't mean any harm. And there's
the big picture."

"Yeah, the big picture. The big picture is that my little girl,
my only child, is going to die!"

Jim sighed, and reached over to take his wife's hand. They were
silent a moment. "There was this guy in college. He was gay and
had a crush on me. I was basically OK with that, though it's
always a little uncomfortable when one person's interested in
romance and the other isn't. One day he was drunk and upset and
said he really wanted to shove his cock up my ass and give me the
biggest load of cum ever."

"Yuck," said Anne.

"Yeah, I wasn't so wild about the idea either. He later
apologized and said he'd been way out of line. A couple years
after graduation he killed himself. And I kept thinking... What
would have been so terrible if I had let him do that to me? I
mean, I wasn't into it, but with lube..."

"Sex is supposed to be between people who really both want it.
You'd have regretted it later."

"Yeah, maybe. But I was thinking too, if I was going to die in a
couple months myself, why not? If I was wondering what sort of
positive impact I could make before I croaked..."

"He could find other guys to fuck up the ass, right?"

"Probably, though he was a little strange, maybe even ugly. But
here's the thing. These guys who want to touch Meghan... there's
no one else for them. Ever."

"But... She's just eight years old! In her vagina? Right up
inside? Getting fucked?"

"Yeah, we'd love to protect her, but we're helpless against the
main thing. We can't save her life."

"They're perverts.... Yeah, I know they can't help it, and this
is a new experiment to see if they can get a little happiness
sometimes. I know that. But they're still perverts."

"True. But I know what it's like to look at a female and want to
fuck her."

"Sounds more than a little familiar."

"And it doesn't depend on her loving me or really wanting it or
anything. I just want to fuck, because that's what I want. So I
figure these other guys are the same. They're all clear they'd
never do anything with a real little girl normally. And they
don't think Meghan's going to love them or really want it like a
woman wants it. But if she's willing, they want to fuck her. Just
because they do, and she's the age of girl they want to fuck."

"You feel like fucking me right now, Jim?"

"Anne!"

"I'm trying to put myself in Meghan's shoes. I want to make you
happy -- heck, I love you. I don't feel like sex very much myself
these days, as you know all too well. But would you like to fuck
me? You know, just because you want to fuck?"

Jim sighed as his cock surged to life. "Yes, Anne. Yes, I would.
But not when you don't want to."

"But I do. I want to make you happy, even if I'm not
interested... I've been diddling myself down here as we talk, and
I'm wet enough now. Fuck me, Jim!"

Jim looked at his wife. "You know I'd do anything you like. Go
down on you like usual, or let you be on top..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know that. But it's not time for that. It's time
for you to fuck me."

Anne hadn't stripped. She'd just pulled her panties down to her
ankles and bunched her nightgown up over her tummy.

Maybe she'd react badly and he'd regret this... or maybe it would
let them process things about Meghan more. How could he want to
fuck when his daughter was dying? Well, he could. He pulled his
pajamas and underpants down to his knees, turned over onto Anne
and felt her guiding his cock with her fingers. He shoved in.

"Come any time you want," said Anne.

Truth was, he found this very hot. He went fast and deep and
hard. Fucking. His pleasure built and after all of thirty strokes
he came, ejaculating in his wife's pussy. He smiled -- but was
also on guard in case his wife had a strong emotional reaction.
It felt like a danger.

"You really liked that?" she said.

"Yes... I loved it." He thought of emphasizing how he'd do sex
just the way she wanted any time, but decided he didn't need to.

"You loved it because you're a man who loves to fuck. And I'm a
sexy woman - at least sexy enough."

"Anne... You're plenty se--"

"We ought to do that more often."

Jim thought that was a fantastic idea.

"So if Meghan wants to let men fuck her because she wants to make
them happy... I guess... Because she'll never grow up to really
want sex and love sex."

Anne started crying. Then she cried harder, and harder still. Jim
began crying too. They clutched each other tightly.

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

The surgery for giving her a big girl vagina was easy.

It was going to happen in this hospital -- a different one from
the other two where she'd been for her achy-arm disease. There
were rooms in this hospital that looked like a regular bedroom.
They were for doing sleep studies on people, but she could use it
too. A sex study, not a sleep study.

They told her that she shouldn't say she was terminally ill -- if
she did that would probably upset the men. That sounded just fine
to her. She didn't want anyone's sympathy. The men would be told
that she wasn't entirely what she seemed, though they would leave
it at that, and so should she. They would give her a
stronger-than-usual dose of her painkiller before she entertained
a man. No wincing that would need explanation.

There were a couple of buttons they had shown her that she could
press in case things happened that she didn't like. Like the man
doing something even if she said "no". If she pressed one then
they would come right in at once. She was a little nervous that
they would think it might be necessary. But then she also thought
that it wasn't a big deal if the guy did strangle her to death or
something. She was going to die anyway.

She sat on the edge of the bed, and there was a full-length
mirror. As she looked at herself she realized that the bad things
going on in her body didn't show. She really did look like a
normal 8-year-old girl, and she wasn't bad looking, with her
shoulder-length brown hair and big brown eyes. What showed of her
clothing was a light blue dress and thin white socks on her feet.
Out of sight were her panties, and that was all she had on.

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

"Hi, Meghan," said the man as he shut the door behind him. "My
name is Adam... and I'm really nervous. Would you... hug me?"

Meghan smiled, stood, and reached out her arms. Adam enfolded her
against him. "Oh, that feels so nice... And I can do this?" His
arms moved up and down slowly on her back.

"Sure." She'd been hugged by a few relatives who did that without
asking.

"And... oh, my God, tell me to stop, please, if you don't like
something?" Meghan nodded, and he reached down to just above her
left knee and rubbed his hand up and down on the side of her
thigh. No relative had ever done that, but she didn't mind. He
moved his hand to the back of her thigh, up and down, and then he
moved it to the inside of her thigh, up and down. With his arm in
that position they were tight against each other. On the way up,
his hand went higher and higher, until he reached her panties. He
let out a gasp. On the one hand, that was certainly something no
man was ever supposed to do with her -- a violation of her
personal space. But... it was just her body. Heck, that was just
cloth. She didn't mind, and she wanted to make him happy.

He removed his hand and pulled back, wonder in his eyes. "You're
so beautiful, and... sexy. You are so sexy! Can I say that? I've
never been able to say that before."

She smiled. "You can say that." She could almost feel his hunger
to see her more and touch her more. "Do you want to take off my
dress, or should I?'

"I could?" he said with wonder.

She nodded. He bent down to take the hem of her dress and lifted
it up, and then pulled higher and higher. It wasn't one of the
usual ways to take off a dress, but it worked. When it was free
of her raised hands it was inside out, and her immediate impulse
was to put it right side out again, but there would be plenty of
time for that later. He tossed it onto a chair, while she took
her socks off.

"Oh, my God," he said. "Could you turn around?"

She did.

"You mind if I take off my clothes? I'm afraid I have an, um,
erection."

"That's fine," she said, and shortly his naked body was there in
front of her. Most of him was what you'd see of a man in a
swimming pool, with of course one exception -- there was pubic
hair, and a sac that held his testicles, and -- by far the most
noticeable -- his penis, sticking straight out, pointing at her.
She felt mildly uncomfortable, but then realized that was what it
meant for a man to find a female sexy - his penis would get big
like that. They had offered her porn to look at that they called
realistic (she didn't ask what unrealistic porn was like), and
she had been interested in all of it. She saw big penises, she
saw penises going into vaginas, and she saw women who just loved
getting that penis inside. But seeing a big man penis in person
was still different.

"Lie back on the bed, OK?" he said.

She lay back on the bed, nothing on but her underpants. He lay
beside her, and his hands were everywhere, up and down her chest
-- right over her private chest part, the nipples, though there
wasn't anything there. He kissed her cheek, and her ears, and he
gently massaged her hair with his hand, before returning to her
body. He put his hand between her legs again and glided upward
until he reached her panties, and pressed against her just a
little. She spread her legs a little. Through this all she could
feel the hot lump of his penis against her hip.

"Could I.. could take your underpants off?"

She smiled and nodded. He sat up and then knelt down below her on
the bed, his penis sticking straight out and impossible to miss.
He put his fingers under the hem at the top of her panties, and
slowly pulled down. He gasped when her kitty came into view, and
kept pulling until they were off entirely.

"Could you... show me inside?"

Meghan placed her hands and tried to take his point of view, that
he was seeing something amazing and precious. So first she spread
her legs, slowly, then she pulled her lips apart slowly rather
than all at once. He gazed with wonder and as he approached with
his hands, she got hers out of the way. He didn't open her up but
caressed up and down her slit, over and over... "So amazing..."

She did feel a tingling down there. Her body was not just
reacting the way it would at a doctor's visit. She was feeling
things. Little stirrings.

"And now... would you touch it? Rub it a little?" he said. "Is it
OK if I make a mess?"

She smiled. She'd learned from the porn that men always made a
mess when they got really happy. It wasn't that they wanted to
make one, really, it's just the way their bodies were wired --
happy feelings caused messes, and messes were always accompanied
by happy feelings.

She lightly grasped his penis -- circumcised, she realized, based
on what she'd learned from watching the porn. And she began
rubbing up and down. She looked at the hot, hard organ in her
hand, but also at his face. He looked really, really happy. She'd
only been doing it a little while when he groaned, and at the
same instant the stuff began spurting out. An initial shot landed
on her chest. She'd seen the woman in the video keep rubbing even
when the stuff came out, and so did she. A second later her hands
were covered with the stuff and as she rubbed up and down,
everything was slippery. She lost track of how many times his
penis spurted, but in not so many seconds he pulled back away and
sat, gasping for breath. Penis, hand, stomach -- the sticky sperm
was everywhere. She brought her hand to her nose and sniffed it
-- a mysterious smell and one that didn't come across in porn
videos, of course.

"Oh, look at that, I'm sorry," he said, observing the mess. He
took a towel that had been conveniently positioned beside the bed
and quickly wiped up the worst of it. Then he said, "Can I lie
beside you?"

She nodded, and he nestled himself in against her, right leg over
hers, nose against her ear. As they lay like that for a minute
without anything happening, her stomach clenched -- she was going
to die. But she realized the idea hadn't crossed her mind once
while they were doing it. He lay like that for several minutes,
and then finally sat up.

"That was amazing, Meghan. I'll remember that for as long as I
live. The best thing that will ever happen to me."

"Happy to help," she said.

"OK, my time is up," he said sadly, getting dressed. She sat up
and began dressing, turning her dress right way out before
putting it on. When they were both done, he approached her for a
hug and she hugged him back. "So, so precious," he whispered.
"Goodbye." He opened the door and left.

Meghan sat on the bed and thought. Certainly an interesting
experience. She didn't feel violated, because she had
volunteered. They had arranged in advance how far things would
go. No licking genitals, no sexual intercourse, and she'd give
him his orgasm by rubbing with her hand. They had suggested she
do less at first and work up to doing that much gradually, but
she was happy to go that far the first time. It hadn't been too
much. The simplest way of looking at it was that it was just
flesh touching flesh. But she had felt a bit more than that, and
she was glad of that. But the main thing was the look of total
joy on his face at various points, but nothing matched that
expression when his penis started spurting. It was the same
feeling she got when she masturbated, but they said that for
adults it was much stronger. She really had helped him be very,
very happy. Her stomach clenched. She was going to die. But this
was a great way to spend her remaining weeks.

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

When she emerged, all of them treated her like she might be
really upset. They had lots of questions for her. She wasn't
upset. "When's the next guy?"

"Oh, we only had the one man for today. We figured one would be
plenty."

The thought of her death felt like a knife in her stomach. "How
about more than one tomorrow? I don't have all that long."

"Well, we can have more ready, but certainly you'd never need to
invite more than one a day."

"Could you have ten ready? Are there that many interested?"

"Oh, we could definitely have ten. There are... well, there are
many thousands who are interested who live right near here."

"Then... let's have ten."

"What are you thinking when you pick such a large number?" said
the serious lady psychologist.

"The point of this is to make men happy. I really like that idea.
Giving meaning to my life -- what's left of it. So why not lots?
Not just a couple. The idea is to help THEM, right? And lots of
them would like to do this?"

"You may feel that way now..." said the kindly woman
psychologist, then stopped herself and turned bright red.

"Now is all I have!" said Meghan.

"Yes, of course, sorry," said the woman.

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

She was ready to get a penis in her vagina. To 'lose her
virginity', that's what they called it. She wanted to know what
it was like, and frankly the idea that the sperm would not be
flying all over the place was appealing. In preparation, they put
some stuff in her vagina. "Lube," they called it. To make sure
the penis went in and out smoothly.

This guy was not quite so shy as the previous one, though still
plenty respectful. He did touch her all over the way the first
one had. He also acted like her body was a precious work of art.

"I'd love to touch you all day, but... you're willing to let me
actually have sex with you? Your vagina is big enough?"

She nodded.

His penis was not circumcised, and was maybe a bit smaller than
the other guy's. But it was still huge to her 8-year-old eyes.
And here he was above her and on her, and there she saw the penis
approaching her privates, and then she felt it. Just a touch at
first, then he opened her lips up with his fingers, and then it
went into her body. She'd had test penises there before --
dildos, they were called, but this was totally different somehow.
That thick prong grew out of this man, between his legs. It was
part of him -- his wiener, his dick, his "thing". She had an
impulse to laugh at the idea, but suppressed it. For these men it
was such a special experience, laughing would be -- like laughing
in church, kind of. She felt the penis slide in and out, then in,
and in some more. And she looked at his face. Sheer wonder and
amazement, as he looked down to where his penis disappeared up
into her body. She saw his pubic hair press against her smooth
girl skin, then saw his mat pull away, then touch again, over and
over. Glancing around she took in the bigger picture -- lying on
her was this adult man, so much bigger than her, muscles bulging
out here and there. And in comparison her little, thin form. What
did a big man want with a little girl like her? If he wanted to
he could easily beat her up. He was above her but holding his own
weight -- if he wanted he could crush her. But he didn't want to
beat her up or crush her. His desire was to slide that penis into
her vagina, over and over again, faster and faster. It didn't
hurt, and in fact that little tingle was stronger than with the
last guy. At last he pushed in all the way and groaned and
gasped. She knew that meant he was at the really happy part, and
she knew that meant the sperm was shooting out, but she couldn't
feel a thing up inside. She could see in his face how amazing he
felt.

When his organ slid out, her vagina felt warm, but it didn't hurt
in the least. It had opened up for the penis, and now it had
simply closed up again to be a little girl vagina. Hoo-hah,
pussy, cunny, cunt.

After he had gone her team came in and asked how it was. That was
enough for one day, surely?

No, she wanted the next guy. They told her how the sperm from a
previous guy was sometimes a turn-off. There was a bathroom
adjoining the bedroom, so they showed her how she could put in a
tampon and take it right out to get much of it out of her vagina,
before she put more lube back in. She learned how to do it
herself, quickly, and to give herself a little sponge bath if her
encounter showed on her little body in any other ways.

The next guy was bigger and taller than the other two. He started
fondling her all over, but after a few minutes, she said, "I bet
there's something you really want to do, more than anything
else."

He shuddered and looked shy for a moment but in well under a
minute he was on top of her, his circumcised penis approaching,
and then he was in. Bigger than the other two penises, but it
still fit fine. He started gasping with amazement and wonder and
lust, and in thirty seconds he groaned and gasped, which meant he
was having his orgasm and injecting her with his sperm. It didn't
take long to figure out when a guy was shooting the sperm out --
you couldn't miss it. He didn't pull out right away.

"That was so quick, you mind if I just keep doing it a while?"

She didn't mind, his penis was still hard and he kept going in
and out, over and over and over again, looking like he'd died and
gone to heaven -- there was something about that analogy she
didn't like, but put it out of her mind. In maybe five minutes he
got more and more excited and had another orgasm. Right in her
vagina. A vagina was handy for keeping all the sperm in one
place.

He left after telling her just how wonderful she had made him
feel. And then it hit her in the stomach again -- she was going
to die.

Time for the next guy.

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

Some men like a girl to take the penis in her mouth. She was
willing to try. They could either make sure they didn't
"ejaculate" (she kept improving her vocabulary) in her mouth, or
they could just do it in her mouth, which some guys loved. She
was happy to lick a penis or take it in her mouth. The first time
a guy "came" in her mouth she was kind of surprised when it all
whooshed out so fast. She wasn't sure what else she was
expecting. It didn't taste very good -- though when she compared
it to that experimental drug she had tried, it seemed like
nothing. But things were so much more comfortable when the sperm
shot out into her vagina. So as they were screening the men who
were interested, she got the ones who were willing to save their
ejaculation for her vagina -- and they all were. She could make
them happy, and lick and suck a penis now and then, but without
having to get sperm in her mouth again.

She was asked to consider doggy style sex, and she was willing.
It was just fine. She couldn't see the man at all, but she still
felt that hard, soft, smooth thing slide into her vagina from
behind and go in and out until the man groaned and moaned and
"inseminated" her. And she knew he was really happy even if she
couldn't see his face.

Some men wanted to lick her pussy ("cunnilingus" or "going down
on her"). She first agreed to let them try that first thing in
the morning, when she was clean down there. She appreciated that
they wanted to make her feel good. And it did feel good. Really
good in its own way. Not right for giving her an orgasm -- that
she could only get by doing things just the exact way she wanted
all alone in bed. But really good. And after they'd done that a
while, that tingly feeling she got from the penis going in and
out was stronger.

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

"This is kind of embarrassing... Would you pretend you're an even
younger girl? Like talk like you're just four years old? It's
amazing I get a chance to do this with you, but... you mind if I
dream you were even younger?"

Meghan thought that would be fun.

"Oooooo! Your pee-wee is SO big! But my cunny is big enough to
gobble him all up, you'll see! ... You're being very naughty! But
I don't mind. There he goes... Are you going to go to the
bathroom inside my kitty? That's pretty funny. I'm toilet trained
and haven't had an accident in a long time now! And you're gonna
have an accident not in your underpants but inside of me! But I
want you to be happy. Do what you want most, even if it's very,
very naughty." She raised her head to kiss his cheek...

He shoved his cock in until it was as deep and tight as it could
possibly be and went silent, his face a mask of ecstasy. Meghan
didn't think it looked any different on this man who was
pretending she was four rather just being herself at age eight,
but he sure looked like he was having fun! She was glad. With his
cock held so still she could faintly feel the contractions that
were pumping gobs of sperm way up deep into the very far end of
her vagina.

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

One older guy didn't take long. Just ten minutes. All he wanted
to do was spoon against her back, then slide his hand into her
underpants and cup her girl part and just lie like that. He
whimpered as his hand went in, then gave a sigh of satisfaction.
It was kind of sweet. So much pleasure from something so simple?

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

"What do I do if their penis doesn't get hard?"

"First, hold it with your hand or take it in your mouth if they
don't object. If that doesn't get it hard, ask if they want to
put their finger up inside you. Sometimes the idea is really
exciting, even with just a finger. And if they still seem upset,
give them a hug and say you're sorry it wasn't what they'd
expected."

"Is it my fault?"

"No, it's never your fault. Penises can be temperamental that
way. Especially in older guys."

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

"This guy wanted to guess what was special about me. He asked if
I was 18 and just grew up slowly, and I said no. Then he asked if
I was a robot. And I said 'no!' That made me mad."

"Oh, that's OK. It's natural they'd be curious. If they ask if
you're a robot, say, 'No, but I'd say that if I was a robot too,
wouldn't I?' "

She thought that was very clever and it would keep her from
getting mad if anyone asked that again.

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

"Lots of these men are really sweet in looking me over and
kissing me everywhere, and then it's half an hour later they get
around to starting on the actual sex. I could see more men and
make them really happy if some of them didn't take so long."

"OK, we can get the men to be quicker -- or get men who agree to
be quicker."

The next day a guy didn't say much at first, but pulled her
underpants down and spread her legs, then lined himself up for
the penetration. His eyes shone with desire. He shoved his penis
in all at once, gasping as he did. He closed his eyes and held
perfectly still, then his face relaxed into a big grin as he
pulled out. There hadn't been a single in and out, not one back
and forth. Just one in, one ejaculation, and one out.

He mumbled, "Thanks" over his shoulder as he left.

That sure quick. Maybe two minutes from when he walked in the
door until he walked out. But she figured just as much of his
goopy mess was in her vagina as any guy who took all day. If she
was a big girl, he could have started a baby inside her easily in
just two minutes.

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

"Why can we only do it from 8 to 4? And why not on weekends?
Aren't there more men who want to do it?"

"Oh, yes, there are, but... a girl your age... surely you need
some rest, and time to do other things?"

"I don't need rest. I love making the men happy, and when I do I
don't think so much about dying. What else am I going to do
that's so important?"

So from 8pm to 9pm, six days a week, Meghan entertained a
succession of excited, horny men who had never had sex before
that felt right to them, and now they could. Roughly one every
half hour. And almost all of them ended their urgent thrustings
into her little vagina by giving her a load of sperm.

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

Meghan was trying not to think about death. It did really help to
know she was making lots of men happy. It had been over two
months now. She knew that towards the end of her disease she'd
start looking really sick and not many men would want to do it to
her then. She smiled as she wondered if any men would like to
have sex with her if she was unconscious and nearly dead, or even
after she died. She certainly wouldn't mind, and if it would make
them happy...

Meghan was feeling sad and discouraged when she went with her
parents to see the doctor behind the desk again, to find out just
how fast she was dying.

"It really is puzzling, the test results we are getting from
Meghan. But we repeat them, and use different techniques, and
they all say the same thing. She's getting better. The cancer
seems headed for remission. Maybe it's some new kind of cancer
we've never seen before, that just looks like Wong-Gleitman."

No one suggested any changes to her routine after that visit. But
the next month the doctor said that they couldn't find any signs
of active cancer in her body. It looked like she might be --
cured.

Meghan wasn't sure how she felt. The idea of living a normal life
-- living to just 10 had been beyond her dreams, and now she
might get to 20 or 40 or even an old woman of 50, but she didn't
trust it at first. Her parents said that was both natural and
wise, and they didn't either.

The first thing they said is that she'd have to give up her
volunteer work with the men at the hospital, now that she had a
whole normal life ahead of her. That didn't seem fair to her. She
had been helping men feel good and it was what had given meaning
to her life for the past couple months. Why shouldn't she keep
helping them out? It was time for her to go to school again, so
that would cut back on what she could do, but still... why not
weekends and a few evenings a week?

They were all insistent that she had to give it up. But as a
compromise, they agreed to let her wind down gradually. She felt
really sad when she saw the last man's face glow with ecstasy as
he ejaculated inside her vagina, to think she'd never be able to
help a man feel good like that again. Well, she supposed she
could when she was much older -- a grown woman.

She realized that most girls dreamt of marrying one man and
living happily ever after. She hoped that too, but somehow these
months of taking lots and lots of different penises in her vagina
made the idea of settling for just one, now and then, feel kind
of unfamiliar. The psychologist explained that most girls her age
struggle to imagine going from zero penises in their vagina to
one, and she was thinking of going from a gazillion down to one,
so it was natural it would feel different. That made sense.

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

Three months later she and her parents were sitting across from
the doctor at his big desk again.

"I'm afraid the news isn't so good. The cancer has come back.
What we're seeing is pretty much what we were seeing last year
when I gave you the initial diagnosis. Based on what we've seen
with other patients, we'd give you the same news now we did then
-- four months if you do nothing, maybe six months with
aggressive treatment. But of course Meghan went into remission
before -- in fact, she looked totally cured -- so who am I to say
it won't happen again?

This was sure confusing. First she was going to die, then she was
going to live, and now she was going to die again. The first
thing she wanted to do was go back to the program at the
hospital, every day letting 20 men achieve the dream of a
lifetime as they ejaculated inside her vagina. Everyone was fine
with that.

But when she had been back in the routine for two weeks, someone
in the bureaucracy at the hospital noticed something. A key
requirement of the experiment was that the patient have an
illness that was certain to be terminal. Because of Meghan's
remission, her illness no longer qualified as definitely
terminal.

All of a sudden, without any warning, Meghan could no longer come
to the hospital for the volunteer work she found so rewarding.
She was miserable. She was going to die, probably... in some ways
it was worse that it wasn't a sure thing. And the one thing she
had found to give her life meaning had been taken away from her,
just like that. She felt that knife in her stomach over and over
again, many times each day.

Her parents found out that the initial study at the hospital had
involved very few children, which is natural for an initial pilot
study. There had been another girl and a boy, and both had
dropped out much earlier. When Meghan left, it was the end of the
program.

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

Part 2. Doing Well By Doing Good

Jim was no doctor, but he did have a careful mind. He noticed
something. The doctor behind the big desk didn't know anything
about Meghan's volunteer work -- that experiment was still
controversial enough that knowledge of it was restricted to
people in that other hospital who had a need to know. Jim
carefully looked at all the test results that had been taken. On
the one key test, he noticed that her cancer levels had gone up
during her first bout with the disease, and continued up until
they started dropping again. A month after she was told she was
cancer-free, the levels started up again, and kept rising, but
her most recent level was slightly down again. That last bit was
curious. He shared the good news with his family, saying it
looked like a hopeful sign. The doctor behind the desk agreed it
was an unusual result, but he wouldn't put much stock in it. A
couple weeks later, they stuck the miserable girl's arm yet one
more time for a blood sample, and this time the levels were going
up again.

Jim plotted the levels over time against what was going on in
their lives. And he noticed that her levels started dropping just
two weeks after she started entertaining lots of men each day.
They kept dropping until they got to the "no cancer" level, when
she stopped having sex with the men. Then the levels started
rising again, just a month later. And when did the level start
going down again? Two weeks after she had resumed her charity
work with the men. Was there something about lots of sex with
men that made the cancer go away? Semen is a very complicated
substance, and the purpose of some of its component chemicals is
to cause subtle chemical things to happen in the female. If it
happened to include curing one kind of cancer... it wasn't out of
the question.

It was an idea. They didn't know if it was true or not. But if it
was true, the implications were huge. Everything would look
different. Meghan had been part of a tiny program to let
terminally ill children help pedophiles feel, for one time in
their lives, a little sexual satisfaction. The girls gave, and
the men received. But if it could cure the cancer... now the men
were giving and the girls receiving -- the moral structure would
match the transmission of fluids for once.

Anne saw the implications when he explained them, but she didn't
want to spend much time thinking about it because it was probably
not true. But she did think it was worth finding out of it was
true, especially as it would be something Meghan was all in favor
of anyway for the old reasons.

Jim mentioned his idea to the doctor behind the desk, who
listened politely. But Jim could tell when he was being given the
brush off. He was being given the brush off.

What Jim would have to do was to replicate the program at the
hospital and run it entirely on his own. It was going to be a
huge undertaking. When what was at stake was helping his daughter
feel more useful during the last couple months of her life, it
had felt impossible -- they hadn't seriously considered it. When
what was at stake was curing her cancer and letting her live to
be an adult, that was enough motivation to tackle the near
impossible.

He contacted people at the hospital who had been involved in
Meghan's experiment, and some were sympathetic. Some gave him the
contacts they used to get the supply of men. The experiment had
had formal legal protection against the charges that could come
from child sex abuse, especially on such a large scale. He could
have no such formal protection, but a delicate inquiry of a key
assistant DA determined that they would not be inclined to
intervene if sexual abuse of Meghan was discovered within the
current context of her health and Jim's motivations. The DA noted
this would not have been politically possible ten years before,
but it was now.

Anne and Jim agreed not to tell Meghan about his hypothesis about
a possible cure. She had been yanked around enough already. If
semen injections actually had had no role in keeping her healthy,
better she should die thinking she had simply been kind to the
men. Meghan was thrilled by the new plans. She would get to help
men again -- in her very own bed! No need to travel the half hour
to and from the hospital each day.

Jim discovered just how much work went into running this kind of
operation. Getting interested men was not the problem -- there
was more interest from online pedophile boards than Meghan could
possibly satisfy -- some men would fly in from Australia if they
had a chance. STI screening had to be tracked. The men had to be
evaluated for psychological health and kindness. Jim converted
the garage into a sort of "ready room" where men would quietly
wait until Meghan pushed the doorbell button they installed. It
sounded a chime in the garage indicating she was ready for the
next man. They were instructed to park in different locations a
couple blocks away to avoid arousing suspicion on that account --
and simply to avoid annoying the neighbors.

Jim's wife Anne had reconciled herself to the original
experiment. Now, when the motivation was saving her daughter's
life, she was actively in favor. But the whole thing still
grossed her out. Now that it was going to happen in their home,
it was even harder. She had worked full time for years, and now
found reasons to be out of the house whenever the men were
visiting. Jim took a leave of absence from his job at first, but
soon hired a man whose most important skill was as a bouncer --
someone who could handle things if Meghan pressed the panic
button. He would do whatever needed doing to keep Meghan safe,
better than Jim could. Jim could return to his career.
Fortunately Meghan never needed to press the button.

The criteria for the men changed somewhat. Jerking off onto her
stomach, or just lying quietly with a hand in her underpants were
no longer part of the program. All had to be willing to have
sexual intercourse with Meghan and ejaculate in her vagina. They
all had to be willing to do this in under 20 minutes. They still
said that it was an experiment in letting pedophiles achieve some
satisfaction, and repeated that Meghan was not entirely what she
seemed. However, semen in her vagina was desirable whenever
possible, as part of the experimental design.

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

Meghan invited the men in to do their business in her vagina,
glad she could make them happy. Every so often she got that pain
in her stomach as she remembered she was going to die --
probably.

A couple weeks went by. Her test levels went back down to where
she was considered cured. At that point Jim and Anne told Meghan
that they thought it was all the sperm going into her vagina that
cured her. Meghan thought that was just wonderful. She'd get to
live! And she'd get to keep helping the men feel happy. Something
for her, and something for them. A happy arrangement for
everyone.

She got the pain in her stomach sometimes still, but each time
she said, "No, I'm going to live!" and soon the pains stopped.

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

As the family digested the new good news, it was time to think
ahead to the future. Anne became restless again. "It's just not
right. That's no way for a girl to spend her life."

"It's certainly not what we expected," said Jim.

"It's upsetting. She's spending all day at it! Almost all her
waking hours!"

"No one knows how much she needs to do to stay healthy, so more
rather than less seems wise. And she says she knows how much the
men love it, and when she thinks about what else she'd be doing
and how she doesn't care that much about it, being with the man
seems better."

"But don't you see it's not right? Imagine an adult woman
deciding that since lots of guys are horny, she's going to lie on
her back and get fucked all day long?"

"Yeah, sort of. But those men have plenty of other women they
could make love to. And besides, suppose this woman thought she
was going to die, and that having intercourse all day meant she
wouldn't. Wouldn't that make it more appealing?"

"Yeah, I guess. But you asked what the alternative is. I thought
of an alternative.

"It's the sperm that makes Meghan fight the cancer. There are
other ways to get sperm than through sex. We could do artificial
insemination."

"From a sperm bank? Twenty doses a day? No one could afford
that."

"No, from ordinary guys. Guys who are willing to jerk off every
day or two to help a little girl stay healthy."

"I guess, but... Who's going to line up the guys?"

"Me," said Anne.

Sometimes Kickstarters grabbed people's sympathy and raised the
large sums of money needed to cure some particular child. This
was asking for a different kind of donation. And on the whole men
didn't mind the act of donating. It was simpler and more fun than
giving blood. Anne tapped her networks, asking if men would be
willing to give semen samples once a day and freeze them, and
then someone would come around to pick them up every week or two.
It was a plan.

It was a totally different group of men. The explanation was that
their daughter needed this semen to survive. While having sex
with an 8-year-old is child sex abuse, using a syringe-like
device to clinically deposit semen into her vagina isn't. They
didn't explain to the men what she had been doing previously or
what she would go back to doing if the experiment was not a
success.

Anne explained it to her daughter.

"It sounds weird."

"It would save you a lot of time." Her entire upbringing made her
want to add, "self-respect" and "dignity", but she knew Meghan
would react badly to that.

"I don't want time."

"You say that now, but we think if you had the time and had it
blocked out every day, you'd get interested in things. Like
school."

Meghan made a face.

"Well, most kids say they don't like school, but later they admit
learning is actually fun and interesting... Or friends, what
about friends?"

Meghan shrugged. When she thought of friends, she mostly thought
of the ones who got all weird when she got sick, who didn't feel
much like friends.

"Meghan, have you thought about your life?"

"I've mostly had to think about not having much life."

"True," sighed her mother. "But now things look different. Maybe
the cancer will just go away when you get older, even without the
semen. No one knows for sure. And then what will you do?"

Meghan shrugged. "Maybe work really hard at school and catch up?
Or just marry and have kids and not worry about knowledge?"

"There are lots of possibilities to consider. But your father and
I have decided that we need a way for you to be able to stay
healthy without having sex all day. We are going to do this
experiment. You can give up the men gradually, but we want to
give a trial to this artificial insemination idea. If it doesn't
work, we'll go back to how things are now."

Many posters on the pedophile boards were not happy about Meghan
becoming unavailable again. Some argued they should be thankful
for what they had gotten up to that point. Some argued that if
they really cared about her, every man who would have had sex
with her ought to donate sperm instead. In fact, very few men did
volunteer. In consultation with Jim, they hit on the idea of
saying that those who donated regularly would be first in line if
the experiment didn't work and the little girl went back to
spreading her thin little legs and exposing her hairless pussy
and happily inviting men to penetrate her the old-fashioned way.
But then they also realized that this gave men an incentive to do
what they could to make the experiment fail, ranging from adding
a trace of spermicide to each ejaculation to simply not freezing
it promptly.

What they really needed was a regular corps of volunteers who
lived in the area who would be willing to donate regularly.
Perhaps a hundred or so would be enough. It turns out that's a
lot of men. Anne and Jim did manage to put it together.

Meghan took the first baster full of creamy white goo, slid it
way up her vagina, and pushed the bulb. The baster emptied, and
all the goo was then inside her. Maybe the men had felt good
ejaculating all by themselves, but she knew it was nothing to
them like it was for the pedophiles who were ejaculating in her
in person. But if it kept her healthy, she supposed she'd get
used to it.

Meghan's vagina got fewer and fewer direct inseminations from
ecstatic pedophiles, but each day she squeezed up inside herself
the seed of twenty men, thawed and mixed together by her father
just beforehand. He contributed regularly, though he never
mentioned it to Meghan. No need to pass up one reliable volunteer
when you were struggling to find a hundred, but no need to raise
the idea of incest either, however indirect.

After Meghan's vagina had completely given up accepting insertion
of actual penises, they managed for two weeks to deposit into her
vagina a mixture of the productions of at least twenty men each
day. But the first day of the next week they had to make do with
17, and then 12 and 14 before going back to 20. Getting twenty
ejaculations each day was just very hard.

However, everything hinged on the blood test that came after the
two-week trial period. And the results were... the test that
measured the cancer edged away from zero for the first time in
months.

That was a good enough reason to end the experiment, though in
fact Anne and Jim were both relieved to be free of the logistical
challenge of getting enough semen. The truth is that masturbating
into a little plastic cup doesn't hold men's sexual interest for
very long. It doesn't hold their interest in the same way that
having sex with a real woman and ejaculating in her vagina does.
And it is nothing as compared to the interest pedophiles have in
doing so when this is the one and only chance they would ever
have to ejaculate in a female who was to their liking. The number
of people interested in that was more than they could ever
handle. The only logistics problems were screening and
scheduling, not drumming up interest.

Meghan was delighted to be able to expose her girlish pussy,
spread her legs, and receive the near-reverent attentions of
pedophiles again, culminating in that dramatic conclusion where
they felt ecstasy as their bodies pumped a dose of their
life-giving semen up inside of her, right where it needed to go.

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

Meghan often dreamed about sex, which made sense since she was
spending so much time having sex. In one dream she was in doggy
position, and looked back over her shoulder to see she somehow
had six rear ends instead of just one, and six different men were
holding onto her butts and straining up inside the butt they
held. All of them moaned and groaned and ejaculated inside her at
the same time.

This morning she had just dreamt of a man who had been kissing
her on the lips. When he gave his gentle gasp, she could feel the
sperm going up inside her, hot and fresh, and somehow she could
taste with her pussy and it was like the most delicious chocolate
ever that he was pumping into her. The dream faded.

She wanted a real man, groped beside the bed and pressed the
doorbell button. She drifted off for a few moments before the
door opened and he let himself in.

She didn't open her eyes. "I was dreaming of a wonderful man with
a wonderful penis. Could you get it into me as soon as you can,
please?" She had been on her side facing the wall, and now she
slid onto her back as she spread her legs a little.

"Sure," said the sweet, deep voice. The warmth of the covers
momentarily disappeared and was replaced with the living warmth
of a man, who slid her nightie up high enough and just pushed her
panty crotch to the side. His hot, hard organ forced its way in,
and her vagina gracefully spread apart to let him in.

"Sperm is so sweet," she murmured. "Can you give me some sperm?"

The man sighed briefly, and began thrusting in and out strongly.
In maybe twenty seconds he gave her the sperm. She couldn't taste
it with her pussy, of course, but that was OK.

"Mmmm, could you just cuddle up behind me?" she said, turning on
her side to face the wall again. She felt his big male body spoon
against her back and she went back to sleep. When she came to and
realized where she was, she said, "How long have I been
sleeping?"

"Oh, about twenty minutes."

"Gee, I'm sorry."

"Twenty of the happiest minutes of my life, Meghan," he said.

She felt a hard lump against her rear and then felt it twitch.
She turned over onto her back. She opened her eyes for the first
time and saw a kind face. The man's hair was mostly gray.

She gently touched the lump of his cock, and said, "Would you
like to do it again?" She gave a sexy smile.

"If it's really OK with you, I'd love that -- but they said I
shouldn't take too long."

"Don't worry about that. If I'm happy to have you stay a while,
it's fine if you stay a while." Now she pulled her panties down
and off, and her nightie up and off so she was as naked as he
was, lay back, spread her legs, and said, "Here I am!"

"Holy shit..." murmured the man, then said, "Sorry..." and
paused.

Meghan smiled and nodded, and he slid his hot penis into her
again. "I think dirty words are OK and kind of fun. I know a
bunch by now. This is called 'fucking', she said. You want to
fuck me?"

He smiled and shook his head. "Yes, I do, but... I'd rather
pretend you were all innocent."

"How young do you want me to be?" she asked as his cock drove in
and out of her.

"Eight is wonderful," he said. "Or maybe seven." He smiled.

She had a hunch he was just too embarrassed to pick an age as low
as he really wanted and said, in a tiny voice, "Big peepee. In my
weewee. Fun, fun, fun!"

He grinned and shut his eyes.

Returning to her 8-year-old voice, she said, "You take just as
long as you want. Take an hour if you want. Or come right now.
Whatever feels right to you."

"Oh, thanks."

She lay back and closed her eyes, enjoying the repeated
intrusions of his cock -- firm, smooth, and graceful.

Maybe ten minutes later he said, "I've love to do this all day,
but... my erection doesn't always last forever these days."

She noticed that he was a little soft inside her.

He closed his eyes. "Or, to say it like you'd understand, my
peepee might get tired and squishy, so I'd better go ahead and
piddle in your wee-wee!"

Meghan actually laughed at that, then said in a tiny voice,
"You're so nice, make piddle in my wee-wee!"

The strokes got stronger, the cock returned to its hard state
that's best for fucking. He fucked hard and then groaned.

Meghan rarely even asked a man's name and never expected to see
him again. It was only fair that with so many men waiting nobody
got a second turn until everyone got a first turn -- which they
never would. But if she had a lot of fun with a man, she could
ask if he'd like to return.

His name was William, and she had him come back first thing in
the morning every month or so.

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

Most days she got up, ate breakfast, and showered before inviting
any men in. She'd look at books and magazines sometimes. More
often she'd browse through video clips online. Sometimes she'd
watch a whole TV show, or take a walk. But she was constantly
aware of the men in the garage waiting their turn. She knew that
they booked more men each day than she would ever be able to
accommodate. The ones who were unchosen at the end of one day
were first in line the next, but still... if she spent half an
hour doing something else, that meant some man would not achieve
the dream of a lifetime. So there was always a pull to go back to
bed and press the doorbell. A kind man would appear and she would
soon see his adult member, erect because he found her sexy. She
would then encourage him to position that member at her private
opening, as she lay naked with legs spread wide. And she would
let him slide it into her cunny. She found it came entirely
naturally to her to smile at the man, and raise her legs so her
heels were on his lower back, or put her arms on his shoulders.
Something like, "I love to feel your 'thing' inside me, so do
what feels best" usually went over well, as did squeezing with
her pussy at just the right moment. The nicest part was thinking
of how good he felt when he had his orgasm, which she could tell
from looking at his face, hearing his gasps, and feeling as his
cock got just a bit harder when it spurted. She was OK with
lingering a bit in afterglow, but not too long. If they lingered
too long, some other man would lose his chance to achieve his
ecstasy inside her vagina.

When she felt dirty she'd take time for a quick shower. She
learned to stick a finger up inside her vagina and pull out a
fair amount of goo, so it didn't get too slurpy up in there --
but no scratchy tampons. Meanwhile, the bouncer who had been
alerted by text message would change the sheets.

One day she returned from the shower and lay on her bed, legs
apart. It so happened that the sun shining through the window
cast a beam across her girl parts. Labia, they were called. The
sunlight made them look special, and she realized there was
something magical about them and the vagina inside -- something
the men found magical. At one level she knew what it was. Babies
were conceived when a penis went into a grown woman's vagina and
ejaculated inside. That was how men became daddies, so it wasn't
surprising they loved doing that so much. Women chose who got to
be the daddy by deciding which man got to penetrate her and dump
sperm in her innards. Some men were just a little bit off in the
head so they wanted to do the same thing inside her, even though
she was just a little girl. But the desire was just as powerful
in them. But unlike the women, she didn't have to worry about who
the daddy would be, because there were no babies to be made
inside these girl parts that glowed in the sunlight. She could
just let all the men feel that same immense pleasure. And she was
the only one who could do it, because none of the other little
girls in the whole wide world would let them.

Meghan entertained even more men than she ever had in the
hospital. Twenty was an off day, and forty wasn't too unusual.

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

The famous doctor behind the desk had a name. He was Dr. Morgan
Singh, and he was the world's leading expert in Wong-Gleitman
syndrome He was initially unaware of the experiment that was
carried out with Meghan in the other hospital, for it addressed
an entirely separate medical question: how to give meaning to the
lives of terminally ill patients. When Meghan's father had
mentioned his initial hypothesis of it being semen that helped
control Meghan's cancer, he had just listened politely.

But when Meghan began receiving visitors at home and the cancer
levels went back down to zero, Dr. Singh was definitely
intrigued. He was also frustrated. There was no way that he could
get funding for a study of a proposed treatment that consisted of
a prepubescent girl getting fucked by dozens of men each day and
receiving the ejaculations in her vagina.

As for most serious medical conditions, there was an internet
group for the families of Wong-Gleitman patients. Partly it was a
matter of helping families with concrete decisions such as
whether to try the life-prolonging treatments or the experimental
drugs, and what painkillers to use and in what doses. Partly it
was just a matter of supporting each other in the unspeakable
sorrow of seeing a vibrant, healthy child sicken and die in a
matter of months.

Like any group facing the untimely death of a loved one, people
were eager to clutch at straws. Could a paleo diet help? Vitamins
or supplements? But the rumors of Meghan and her treatment were
too outlandish for even those inclined to conspiracy theories to
take seriously. The implications were also upsetting. Many were
clear that they would not consider such a treatment even if it
was proven effective, because dignity and morality simply would
not allow it. Jim and Anne had not belonged to the online group
before -- it wasn't their style. Now they joined. They described
Meghan's situation, while also freely admitting that it was such
an outlandish story that they didn't expect people to believe
them.

Ordinarily, the description of a single case of remission from a
cancer with 100% mortality is worthy of publication in a medical
journal. Dr. Singh hardly needed to make the inquiry of the
journals to learn that they would simply not consider publishing
an account of Meghan's experience.

As an ambitious professional, Dr. Singh was eager to advance his
career. Wong-Gleitman syndrome now seemed like a perilous place
to be, if the only promising treatment was something simply
unacceptable to the medical establishment -- and society at
large. But he also had some simple human compassion, and he
approached the online support group with a proposal. He would
write up Meghan's case and say that it was real, not just some
internet hoax. He would prove his identity to three of the
group's admins, if they solemnly promised not to reveal it more
widely.

The admins reported that they were convinced that the author of
the report was a mainstream doctor who was an expert in cancer.
Incredible as it seemed, Meghan's case was real. The resulting
furor on the board was intense. Opinions ranged from the idea
that the "Meghan treatment" was absolutely prohibited as a sin
against God down through those who saw it as totally impractical
where they lived, to those with mixed feelings and, finally,
those who would consider anything to save their child.

Only girls have vaginas, but little boys have butt holes, and
there was reason to hope that a small boy receiving a whole
series of ejaculations in his rectum each day would enjoy the
same outcome. There were tens of thousands of men who would
eagerly sign up for a chance to do their part for little boys,
matching the number who eagerly signed up for Megan and similar
girls.

The open-minded parents needed to find out what their child
thought of the whole idea. Some children just couldn't really
entertain such a weird idea and lived out the rest of their short
lives as before, deciding among the conventional choices.

Others were open to the idea. Unlike Meghan, their motivation was
not to help the men feel good -- though it was explained in
age-appropriate terms that this was also true. The men liked
helping them -- really liked it, in fact. The motivation of the
children was to survive. Many were interested.

Finally the connection was made on the pedophile boards between
Meghan the volunteer and Meghan the cancer survivor. The
pedophile boards now knew in what way she had not been what she
seemed. There had been lots of speculation, and that had been one
of the hypotheses. But now they knew. Most of the hundreds who
had been with her in the early days felt better about their
experience when they realized that Meghan had been letting them
achieve their dream out of nothing but the goodness of her heart.

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

Emily was five years old. She had been sick. She had pains in her
arms and legs, sometimes so bad she couldn't stand it. Lots and
lots of visits to doctors and hospitals. First they told her (in
their funny grown-up ways where they didn't just say what they
meant) that she might die. Then they told her that she would
probably die. And now she knew she was going to die for sure.

But now this. With all the stupid grown-up stuff stripped away,
it was this. Boys have penises and girls have vaginas. When
they're grown up, the boy sticks his penis in the girl's vagina,
pees, and that starts a baby in the girl's tummy. Men and women
think this is the most fun thing ever and do it all the time,
even when they're not trying to start a baby. Some men are funny
in the head and want to stick their penises into the vaginas of
little girls like her and pee there. Of course they can't because
what girl on earth would want a penis in her vagina? But Emily
was special. If she let lots and lots of men do that to her, then
she might live (and the pains in her arms and legs would stop).
There was a story from a big girl who had been sick like her but
was now better. She said the idea was weird at first, but she got
used to it, and she said the men who did the sticking and peeing
were nice, and they were so very happy to get a chance to pee in
a girl like her that she felt good helping them feel so good. And
she said the thing itself, the penis going in and peeing, felt
good!

Emily was eager to give it a try if it would make the pains stop.
Living would be nice too. So they did surgery on her vagina,
which was simple compared to all the other stuff they did to her.
Her vagina healed up and then she could practice sticking big
things in her vagina. They said man penises were that size but
she thought maybe they were pulling her leg. One way or the
other, they fit. And with slippery goo, they went in and out
easily.

The man was nice to her, but this was really about him sticking
his penis into her. And before she knew it, she was lying on her
back, naked, with her little hoo-hah right out in the open, and
her legs spread wide so he could get at it. And there was his
penis, sticking right out of him, and they hadn't been pulling
her leg, it really was that big! He pressed it against her
privatest place, and it slid up inside just like the big things
she had been using to get ready. And when she felt it go in, she
giggled. She tried to stop but she giggled some more. The man
smiled, but he kept shoving his penis in, and then shoved it back
and forth, and still she giggled. Then he gasped and groaned, and
his penis slid out and just like that it was over. He said he
could see it was funny and didn't mind she giggled. He asked if
she was OK, and she giggled as she nodded. And he looked at her
with such love she stopped giggling. He thanked her, and kissed
her lightly on the cheek and the nose. Grown-ups could pretend to
like you and they could really like you. He really liked her.

When he had left she remembered the peeing part. Had he forgotten
to pee? She reached up with her finger into her kitty and pulled
her finger back out. It smelled funny. Not bad, not good, but
funny. That must be how a man's baby-starting pee smelled.

Of course they all asked her if she felt OK. They asked it right
when they first saw her, and two hours later, and at bedtime, and
the next morning. Finally said she felt better about the penis
than she did about people asking if she was OK. Would she do it
again? It wasn't like eating an ice cream sundae or anything, but
if it was part of getting better, of course she'd do it again.
Again and again.

The next day she didn't giggle when the penis went in. He went in
and out a lot longer, and when she looked at him she could tell
he was really having a good time, and then when he groaned and
moaned he looked about as happy as someone can look. And when
he'd pulled his penis out, he looked at her with love too, like
the first guy. Not fake.

The next guy looked Chinese, but that didn't matter. His penis
did the same thing, in and out and in and out, and he finished
the same way. He didn't look at her at all when he was done, kind
of embarrassed. Maybe he didn't want to look at her with love
because it was embarrassing. That made sense.

The grown-ups laughed when she asked if the men might forget to
pee sometimes, but then they apologized and said it was a
perfectly reasonable question. They said that since that's how
men and women make babies, nature had made it so the man never
forgot to pee. He couldn't be a daddy if he forgot to pee!

Some of the men wanted to kiss her and rub their hands all over,
and while she didn't mind, and liked the idea that they really,
really liked her little body, she also got bored with it. She had
other things she wanted to do, and if she could get all the pee
peed into her hoo-hah in just 2 hours in the morning and 2 hours
in the afternoon she had lots of time for other things.

But the best thing was the pains stopped. She'd lie on her back
with her legs wide apart all day and night with penises going in
and out one after the other if it could make the pains stop. It
was nice it didn't take that long, but it would be worth it.

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

Jim and Anne had been very clear from the start that they would
accept no payment. Their girl was not a prostitute! Payment that
was offered to jump to the head of the line topped $20,000 once,
and money like that tends to make our moral convictions waver. So
they put it out in in the posts that anyone who mentioned money
was going to be immediately disqualified, and that put a stop to
that.

But then the bequests started coming in. What should they do with
a $2,000 bequest expressing thanks to Meghan for the very best
half hour of their life? They decided they didn't have such a
problem with that. The person certainly wasn't asking for
anything in return, since they were dead. And Meghan's little
vagina had not parted gracefully and given the man's penis a
tight, hot hug in expectation of anything but some sperm. The
payment of $23 was almost sad (the letter from the attorney noted
that the estate had been very small). Two hundred bucks here, a
thousand there. Then came the bequest for $3 million. That was a
shock. They decided to make a trust for Meghan.

Money was flowing in other directions as well. When word got to
the pedophile boards that three girls and one boy had been
seemingly cured by the treatment, there was a dream that the way
pedophiles thought about this might change. Up to this point it
was a lottery a pedophile might dream of winning some day. If
these results held up, it could become something that a pedophile
could reasonably hope for -- and maybe even something he could
naturally expect. There were a hundred or so cases of
Wong-Gleitman syndrome diagnosed each year. Six or seven years
until puberty, twenty pedophiles a day... the numbers added up.

Studying this required money. No institution or foundation could
fund a study on such a shocking course of treatment, but
pedophiles could. Many are well off (having no children to
support) and a few are very rich. Formal research meeting the
most rigorous requirements of the scientific method was not
possible, but they could document case histories, with both good
and bad outcomes. One kind of bad outcome was a child who felt
bad about their abortive attempt to receive so many ejaculations
every day, and suffered with this distress for as long as three
months before dying. Another was one for whom the treatment
simply didn't work, who also died within a few months.

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

Meghan's body started changing at the age of nine. Very subtle
changes in her nipples had started earlier, but now there was no
doubt. The nipples stood out and away from the beginnings of a
breast. The men noticed, and reports on the pedophile boards were
read with great interest. A few men were disappointed, and others
were newly excited. Applications went up significantly.

When she turned ten she also felt some changes in her feelings.
She was more interested in attentions from the men who licked
her. It felt better, and it met a need in her that solo
masturbation just didn't. One day, after a full half hour of
licking from a man who just loved doing it, she had a little
orgasm. When he then penetrated her with his penis, it felt
different, warm and relaxed, and when he convulsed and delivered,
it felt good to know he was feeling a more intense version of
what she had just felt.

The excitement didn't end when one man left and another arrived.
It carried over, ebbing a bit between men but then picking up
again. She began to look forward to the penis sliding into her
not just because of how excited he was or how it was going to
keep her healthy, but because she liked the feeling and wanted to
feel more of it. She wanted a man to pump it in and out, and dose
her with sperm, and -- remarkably or not so remarkably, depending
on how you look at it -- he did just what she wanted.

When she was eleven she would occasionally masturbate between
men. In this condition it never took more than a minute for her
to have her orgasm, to feel relief and sexual fulfillment. It
made her no less interested in receiving the next stiff 'thing'
in her cunny, as the pleasure began building again.

As Meghan's puberty began to take off in earnest, there was
concern about pregnancy. Barrier methods were out of the
question. No one knew what the hormonal changes produced by the
pill would do. The least invasive means of contraception was an
IUD, and they had one inserted.

Meghan's feelings also continued to change. She was more and more
sexually aroused and involved in the sex act itself. She found
herself noticing things about the men as people, and liked some
more than others. If she found a prospect uninspiring, she would
offer herself in the doggy position, to interact with as little
of him as possible -- almost exclusively his penis. For those she
liked, she encouraged them to take their time, and to modify
their thrusting to the kind that was most stimulating to her, and
pretty often she orgasmed simultaneously with the men.

The men were now not always so sweet, and not so universally
thankful. Most men who could get sexual satisfaction from a
partly mature 12-year-old could usually also get satisfaction
from a young-looking adult. Meghan was still thankful for what
they were doing to keep her healthy, but there were many other
feelings mixed in. Her period started, and that complicated
things a bit. No particular man would likely encounter very much
blood, but some didn't like the idea of it.

She began reviewing the video clips the candidates submitted.
Some she rejected outright. She sorted the others into missionary
position, doggy position, and "glory hole". Some of those
relegated to the last category decided not to participate on
those terms.

They experimented over the years with cutting back on how many
men she took a day, and always found that as they dropped to 15
her cancer levels started going up again.

But when she was almost thirteen, she tried again, and 15 men a
day was enough to keep her cancer levels down. It was. Would 10
men a day be OK? Her levels did not start rising. What about
cutting them out entirely? After two weeks the levels had not
rise. Nor after four weeks, nor eight. It looked like Meghan had
outgrown her Wong-Gleitman syndrome. In time, the other children
did too.

Meghan stopped entertaining men in the same way, and gradually
moved into the same sort of romantic and sexual experimentation
that most children her age went through.

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

Excerpts from the "Alpha Med Facts" article on Wong-Gleitman
Syndrome

Wong-Gleitman syndrome is a rare cancer affecting approximately
100 children a year in the US. It is usually diagnosed between
the ages of 2 and 8. Without treatment, it is invariably fatal
within one year of diagnosis...

The only known effective treatment is extraordinary: on the order
of 20 ejaculations daily, delivered vaginally or anally, until
puberty. The vaginal method has approximately 70% success, the
anal method 30%. Obviously the vaginal method is preferred for
girls, while boys have no better option than anal. The
ejaculations cannot be given by the same small group of men, over
and over. Considerable variety is required. Artificial
insemination methods are largely ineffective, so the ejaculations
must be delivered by sexual intercourse...

One naturally might conclude that this treatment is simply too
difficult to orchestrate for six or more years. However,
pedophiles are typically not just willing but eager to offer such
treatment. Sexual abuse of prepubescent children is down
dramatically since this treatment has become established and
provided an avenue of sexual satisfaction for a large portion of
the pedophile population...

Many parents refuse to even consider such a treatment on moral
grounds. Court cases have been brought by children seeking
emancipation so they can make the decision for themselves, and
have generally been successful...

Of great interest is the adjustment of the affected children
after treatments stop at puberty. Numbers are necessarily
limited, but following eighteen (18) children for ten years from
their last treatment, there are no categories in which the
subjects in the seem deficient in comparison to a control group.
Tentative results suggest they seem happier with their
interpersonal relationships and report greater satisfaction with
their sex lives, although the group is too small for the effect
to be of statistical significance...

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

Daniel felt both exhilarated and anxious when his name was
called. He was mostly stiff already from looking at the pictures
of the cute little girls on the walls of the waiting room. Now he
was alone with little Diana, sitting cross-legged, naked on her
bed. Diana was two years old.

"Hello, Diana," he said, shedding his robe.

"Hi," said the little girl softly.

He knelt on the bed. His erection was growing weaker, not
stronger. Damn!

Diana noticed and reached out with her small hand to pat the
penis. One hand cradled it underneath while the other stroked it
like you might a small animal.

It began growing again.

Then she reached over, took the tip in her mouth and began
sucking. It quickly swelled.

Diana disengaged and looked up into Daniel's face with a big
smile.

She spread her legs and lay back. Just then a little pee dribbled
out of her onto the pad below.

"Oops!" she said.

"Oh, it's OK, don't worry, accidents happen," said Daniel
solicitously. He'd be sure to mention that on the way out, so
they could replace the pad. "You want my penis inside?"

Diana nodded, and lay back with her legs spread wide, wide apart.

Daniel started letting himself down on her, his large adult
member approaching the vaginal opening that looked so impossibly
small. But he spread her lips, and found the place to lodge his
penis and push. They said it would fit. And it did. Diana's
vagina was very stretchy, and enlarged to take his entire girth,
and then enlarged along the other axis as he pressed inside.

The sight was unbelievable, the little bright-eyed girl looking
at him happily, her small legs spread, her labia stretched wide
to accommodate his thrusting manhood. They had told him he should
aim to finish up within ten minutes. He had already lost a few
minutes due to his hesitant erection. He could come any moment,
he figured, but he also wanted to make it last. Sexual
intercourse with a two-year-old, who looked on happily as his
penis thrust in and out... The excitement was unbearable. He
thrust harder and faster, pleasure building, trying to imprint
the perfection of the moment on his mind. Then it was just animal
pleasure, and he came. Orgasm, sperm, relief... It was only five
or six shots he delivered, but it was a lifetime of sexual desire
he released, all packed into that half dozen globs of sperm. He
let himself rest with his cock inside the little girl for ten
seconds, then it was time to withdraw. His slick organ appeared,
and the stretchy two-year-old pussy closed up again. Hopefully
the globs of sperm would help restore this girl to health and do
their part in giving her a long, happy life.

He sat on the edge of the bed, and little Diana scrambled up and
kissed him on the cheek. When he turned to look into those bright
eyes, she said "Thank you," and flopped back onto the bed, legs
still wide apart. He pulled on his robe and said, "You're
welcome, and thank YOU," as he left.

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

Meghan was 28, and had had several dates with Jonathan. She liked
him, and he seemed to like her. She was ready to settle down and
have a family, though of course her primary motivation was to
find a life partner, like most people.

Jonathan said, "I'm curious about your sexual history."

Meghan felt a pang of unease. "What does that matter?"

"I guess I'm curious if you've been involved with more than one
man at once. Or how many men you're silently comparing me to? Is
that bad of me? I'm happy to tell you. I've had sex with seven
women before you. A couple were budding relationships, a couple
more short-term flings. One one-night stand. But never any
cheating. Always one at a time."

Meghan thought a moment. "My numbers are pretty much the same as
yours after I left high school, but I haven't kept exact count."

"What about before that?"

Meghan considered. "Let's just say that I had an earlier 'wild
phase' in my life."

"What, a dozen partners in high school?"

"Let's just leave it that I had an earlier wild phase, OK?"

There was also the matter of her $36 million trust fund. She had
never revealed its existence to any man she dated, because she
did not want to live like most people live who have that kind of
money, and certainly did not want any men who would be interested
in her because of it. Mostly she planned to give it away. But on
the other hand it did give her options, and maybe she'd find some
really good cause. No hurry to get rid of it. But... how to
explain it? She guessed she could just say she had a really rich
grandfather or something.

Or maybe she could reveal both secrets at once if they got into a
committed relationship. How many penises had penetrated her
before she was 13 years old? Ten thousand easily. Thirty
thousand?

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

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