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? ============================================================ What did you think? I'm always eager for comments, whether positive, negative or mixed. Comments to sterling27@live.com.