Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: Smoking White Owls
Part: 1 of 1
Universe: The Swarm
Summary: A trip down Memory Lane for Cathy Clark.  An extension to 'Taking
Deliveries'.
Keywords: MF Mg Mb oral pedo ScFi

Smoking White Owls

Copyright © 2008 The Thinking Horndog

Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyrighted with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. Reproduction for profit is
forbidden.  Any distribution must include this note and the author's email
address. Don’t be caught attempting to make a buck off me!

Warnings and disclaimers:

This is adult entertainment!  Be warned!  If you’re not into graphic
depictions of sex, this is the wrong story for you!  If you’re too young to be
legally reading this, move along!

This is a work of fiction.  It is not intended to reflect any particular
person or persons, and the incidents portrayed exist in their current form
solely in the writer’s imagination.  You get the idea.

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

< Author's note:  This is not a standalone story, but a scene removed from the
story "Taking Deliveries" due to the radically different content and the
effect upon story codes.   It is recommended that you read "Taking Deliveries"
for background and read this scene only when you reach the marker for it in
Chapter 10 of that tale. >

	Cathy Clark lay with her head in Wayne Moore's lap, her nose in his
pubes, her hand slowly sliding up and down his firm erection.  That Debra
woman sat on his left and he was playing with her thigh, but Cathy had his
cock in her hand.  Wayne was her new meal ticket -- one that would keep her
off some alien's menu.  The price had been momentarily exorbitant, but she'd
paid it, and she had no regrets.  Wayne would certainly do until something
better came along...

	Wayne rubbed her flank, sometimes cupping a conical, pink-tipped tit.
He had something on his mind; Debra knew it, but Cathy was concentrating on
other things and hadn't noticed.  "Cathy," Wayne said quietly, "tell me about
your dad."

	Cathy froze.  Then, shaking it off, she lilted, "He's a dad -- just
like any other dad, I guess."

	"That's nice."  Wayne and Debra shared a glance.  "Tell me, Cathy,
when did you first have sex?"

	Again the pause, then a flippant, "Oh, I don't know -- I was young --
twelve?  Thirteen?"

	"Really?  Was that your first sexual activity, or just your first
fuck?  Did you do anal sex or anything?" Wayne asked innocently.

	Again the pause, then:  "You don't want to talk about that -- it's not
any big thing; I'm sure it can wait until another time," Cathy said brightly.
"Why don't I suck you -- you'll enjoy that.  I'm good at it."  There was a
tense edge to her voice.

	There was an edge to Wayne's, too.  "I'm sure you are.  I bet you've
been doing it a long time -- why don't you tell us about your first cock?"

	Cathy eyed Wayne.  He had his teeth in something or other and he
wasn't going to let go.  That Debra bitch was looking on, too -- she was in on
it.  Somebody had told Wayne something...  She could lie -- no, probably not
from the way he was acting.  "I was eight, I think -- yeah, eight..."

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

	Wayne was mostly barking up the wrong tree with Daddy; Daddy wasn't
the problem.  Oh, he was, later, but Cathy loved her Daddy, no matter what.
Her relationship with her father was too close to let a little thing like sex
screw it up.  Besides, Daddy's problem was mostly Daddy.

	Uncle Nate was another matter -- or maybe not so much -- it wasn't
really clear to Cathy that she was ruined, or anything.  There had been a
recent media witch-hunt for child-molesters and they'd have LOVED to get their
hands on Uncle Nate -- but a lot of it seemed to Cathy to be people trying to
make a buck off the Catholic Church and generate a media frenzy to keep
ratings up.  Sex sells in any form.  She'd watched some group from one of the
major TV networks play fish online and lie to them and get them to commit to a
meet so they could film it and make big bucks off it -- and she felt sorry for
the poor losers they went to such lengths to entrap.  Other situations made
her laugh -- such as a young sixteen-year-old male and his parents coming
forward to accuse a female teacher of 'molesting' him -- twice!  Such
bullshit!  To a sixteen year old guy, an older woman who wants to fuck is a
gift from God, not a molestation!  As for Uncle Nate, Cathy wasn't sure
whether he ruined her life or merely prepared her for it...

	Uncle Nate had always been there; Cathy was pretty sure Uncle Nate had
changed a significant percentage of her dirty diapers.  Uncle Nate was Dad's
more flamboyant older brother.  Somebody said Dad met Mom through Uncle Nate
-- which probably explained why Mom was never in the picture; Uncle Nate went
through women like Grant went through Richmond.  There was always an Auntie
around -- Auntie Sheila with the nipple rings, and Auntie Vickie with the
tattoos, and Auntie Floozy -- well, Suzy, actually, but Uncle Nate got such a
kick out of calling her the other thing.  Uncle Nate's bedroom seemed to have
a revolving door.

	Uncle Nate had a big in-ground swimming pool and a hot tub -- and
clothing was ALWAYS optional for adults and never required for kids.  He threw
a party just about every Friday night and Tuesday was Poker Night -- and Cathy
was around for plenty of both of them, because Dad's second job was at night.
Uncle Nate kept his shorts on, mostly, but Aunties ran around in just about
anything -- or nothing -- and party guests ran the gamut.  Cathy probably saw
her first penis before she had any clear memories, but for a good long time,
their only purpose was to send a stream of water into the toilet (or on the
ground behind a tree, or whatever -- beer consumption at parties tended to
outstrip the available bathroom facilities).  Cathy spent a lot of time naked
and a lot more in just a diaper or training pants her first three or four
years or so -- and nobody had fits about it.

	Then she went off to nursery school and kindergarten and everybody had
rules -- and Uncle Nate told her that it was the smart thing to abide by them
and not make waves in public because "there is an asshole waiting to screw up
your day waiting behind every bush."  Cathy learned early that expressing
herself the way Uncle Nate did tended to cause an uproar; in some circles, it
was an occasion for laughter, but in others, it led to condemnation.  Cathy
learned that if people got upset hearing things Uncle Nate had to say, they
probably didn't want to see her naked.  That pretty much got her by.

	About the time she was six, things started to change.  Uncle Nate
continued to take on Aunties, but they tended to come with children -- notably
girls just a few years older than Cathy.  They tended to stay longer and
didn't seem to be quite the same class of hard-edged party animal, but the
fights when they left tended to be louder.  Uncle Nate seemed to win all of
the arguments, though.

	Naked swimming became the rule, though, instead of an option -- even
Uncle Nate did it -- and he tended to play with the kids a lot more.  Cathy
didn't mind -- she had kids to play with.  There was a lot of slap and tickle
and splash and giggle -- it was all fine.

	The summer after she finished second grade, the lid came off and she
discovered sex.  It happened on Poker Night; Uncle Nate and four of his
buddies were sitting at the poker table, smoking cigars and playing cards, as
usual.  Auntie Beth was running beer and chips -- and getting felt up a lot
because she was wearing a short skirt and a halter that let her low-slung
titties sway.  She would bluster and take a swing at anyone seriously grabby,
and Uncle Nate and whoever the perpetrator was would laugh.  Cathy had seen
this kind of thing before -- usually the auntie ended up going off to spend
the night with someone else other than Uncle Nate.  It was also many times a
signal that there would be a new auntie, soon, but Auntie Beth had already
come back twice.

	Cathy had learned long since that if you never even LOOKED at the
cards, you were allowed to hang out as long as you weren't much of a
distraction.  She'd spent half the night sitting on Uncle Nate's lap, on
occasion -- not lately, though; somebody else always seemed to be there, these
days.  She reached up and filched a pretzel from the bowl on the table and
queried, "How come only guys smoke cigars?  Why don't girls?"

	Pete, the garage guy, snorted.  "They smoke, but they have to have it
filtered.  Most of 'em smoke White Owls."  There was a general chuckle.

	"Does Auntie Beth smoke White Owls?"

	Uncle Nate snorted.  "Regularly."

	"How old do you have to be to smoke?"

	Pete opened his mouth, but Uncle Nate frowned and shook his head, and
he closed it.  But a moment later, he grunted, "She's gotta learn, sometime.
You savin' her for something?  Of course, you'd have to answer to Dick for
it..."

	Dick was Cathy's Daddy.  Pete's comment didn't settle well with Uncle
Nate -- first, he glared at Pete, then he turned his attention on Cathy and
sat there considering, chewing his cigar.

	What Cathy got from it was that she was old enough -- or at least on
the border.  Hope flared.  "Am I old enough, Uncle Nate?"

	No doubt Nate would never have taken the next step but for Pete's
carping comments.  As far as Nate was concerned, his younger brother was a
wuss.  Besides, he'd half-raised the little slip -- wasn't it time he got some
benefit?  Looking around the table, he grunted, "Let's finish this hand.
Whoever wins the next hand gets to teach Cathy how to smoke a White Owl."

	Auntie Beth got this blank look on her face.  "I think I'll go work in
the kitchen."

	Uncle Nate spat out a tobacco scrap he'd pulled from the end of his
cigar.  "You do that.  Send in Desiree -- she can pass shit around."

	Auntie Beth locked eyes with Uncle Nate for a moment, then dropped
hers and turned away, muttering, "Yes Nate."

	Big Mike chuckled and grunted, "Woman's got no backbone at all."

	"She don't need a backbone," Uncle Nate retorted, "She needs her three
holes -- and to know when to open and close 'em.  If she doesn't have a
backbone, then I can bend her whichever way I like while I'm using 'em."  That
got another general chuckle.

	Desiree came in while they were finishing the hand.  Desiree was a
taciturn eleven-year-old brunette with little puffy nipple-peaks on her chest
-- and not much else.  She didn't say much to anybody -- but she seemed to
like Uncle Nate -- she spent a lot of time with him these days, and any time
Uncle Nate wanted something, she was quick to do it.  "You two skin out of
your clothes," Uncle Nate ordered while Pete dealt.  "You won't need 'em for
this."

	The hand was more spirited than most had been recently.  Cathy crawled
up on Uncle Nate's lap, frog-naked, to watch play.  Desiree frowned, but uncle
Nate waved at Big Mike and she went to sit on his lap.  Big Mike seemed to
think she needed bracing; he used one hand to hold her chest.  "Pull the
second one from the right and toss it," he told Desiree.  Desiree pulled the
card and discarded it so he wouldn't have to use the hand he was holding over
her right nipple.

	Uncle Nate rubbed Cathy's chest and belly, "So you're a big girl now?
It's time to do big girl things?  How old are you again?"

	"I'll be nine next month," Cathy declared.

	"You know, Punkin, big girl stuff ain't always what it's cracked up to
be," Uncle Nate drawled.

	Cathy took offense.  "You sound just like Daddy!"

	"Hey, I warned ya."  He gave her a little squeeze.  "Be quiet now, so
I can play."

	Things looked good for Uncle Nate -- but Gizmo Frawley from the power
company had three queens.  "I'll be goddamned!" he crowed when it came time to
call.

	"Probably," Uncle Nate told him.  "This 'un is blood -- you be fuckin'
careful, get me?" he warned Gizmo.

	"I got it, I got it," Gizmo waved it off.  Gizmo was bald on top, but
kind of shaggy around the fringe, an orangey-red color mixed with grey.  He
had big, thick fingers, but was generally cleaner than Pete -- and Cathy had
sat on his lap a bunch of times.  She had no fear as Uncle Nate set her feet
on the ground.  "Uncle Gizmo will let you smoke his White Owl.  Desiree, teach
her how."  Desiree looked blank, so Uncle Nate waved her to him and whispered
in her ear; she limited herself to, "Oh," and went over to Gizmo, taking a
position opposite Cathy.

	Gizmo started shucking out of his work pants.  Cathy looked up at
Uncle Nate blankly, so he started to explain, "Like Pete said, cigar smoke is
strong stuff -- it needs to be filtered for girls.  Guys filter it, but you
have to work to get it out, so smoking is a lot different for girls.  Show
her, Desiree."

	By then, Gizmo was out of his pants and his boxers were down around
his ankles.  He settled back and took a puff of his cigar, and Desiree settled
between his knees and took his cock in her hand and directed it to her mouth.

	Cathy watched, wide-eyed.  This was smoking?

	"Men filter the smoke naturally, and turn it into something girls can
deal with, Punkin," Uncle Nate amplified.  "You have to suck on his dick like
we suck on cigars and run your lips up and down it and tickle it with your
tongue and stuff -- and when you've made Gizmo good and happy, the stuff
inside will squirt out so you can taste it.  Right, Desiree?"

	"Right."  Desiree backed off and nodded.

	"Go ahead, Honey -- give it a try," Gizmo coaxed.  Desiree backed out
from between his legs and Cathy settled in.  "Show me?" she asked.

	Desiree looked worldly.  "You have to kind of pump it," she explained,
sliding the skin up and down Gizmo's cock so it's pinkish-purple head popped
into view and disappeared.  "You know about pumps, right?"

	Cathy didn't, really, but she wasn't going to admit it.  "Oh, okay."

	"You have to pump and suck -- don't bite! -- and you'll know you're
doing it right when Uncle Gizmo gets all excited.  Once it's pumped up, the
stuff will squirt out and you swallow it.  Okay?  Take a suck," Desiree
directed.

	Cathy lowered her lips over Gizmo's cock to the sound of a general
stir.  Big Mike came around to watch, rubbing Desiree's chest.  Uncle Nate and
Pete had front-row seats already, on either side; Arch Fox got up and came
over to watch, too.  Cathy, all proud that she had an audience for this
important adult rite, started sucking.

	It wasn't bad.  Cathy slid the skin back from the puffy head and
rolled her lips over it and Gizmo groaned -- but she knew he liked it from the
sound.  She bobbed up and down a couple of times like Desiree had, then backed
off.  "It's sure big!"

	There was a general chuckle -- which Cathy didn't understand (Gizmo
ran to about five inches long) -- but Desiree said, "You know you're doing it
right if it gets big and hard."

	"Okay."  Cathy went back to work.  It took a while.  Gizmo held her
head and pushed his cock into her some, but Uncle Nate made noises and he let
go.  Still, in a couple of minutes, Gizmo got all tense and gasped, "I'm gonna
cum!" -- and in a few seconds, his cock pulsed and spit goo in her mouth.  It
was thick and gooey and it tasted weird, but Cathy decided it was okay.
"That's it?" she asked, backing off.

	"Yep," Uncle Nate nodded.  "You just smoked your first White Owl."

	Cathy looked around.  Desiree was smoking Arch; Pete and Big Mike were
apparently trying to pump out their own goo.  Uncle Nate told Desiree, "Go get
your mother and bring her back here -- looks like we're gonna have a party..."
Desiree got up and left.  Uncle Nate's cock was standing up out of his shorts
as he beckoned her.  "Come here, Punkin, and we'll talk about it."  He settled
Cathy on his lap, straddling his cock.  "As you can see, you've caused some
excitement.  Now we're going to need to get everyone smoked out, because men
get excited watching a woman smoke and want her to smoke them, too."  He
pointed at Big Mike.  "As you can see, Big Mike has a Black Owl.  We're gonna
have to let Auntie Beth handle that."  Auntie Beth, who was just entering the
room, opened her mouth, but Uncle Nate barked, "Get naked -- all the girls
are.  Take care of Big Mike and don't give me any lip."  Auntie Beth stepped
out of her skirt and panties and undid her halter and knelt before Big Mike,
who fed her his Black Owl.  Uncle Nate snapped his fingers and pointed, and
Desiree went back to smoking Arch.  "Okay, Punkin," Uncle Nate told Cathy,
picking her up off his lap and setting her on her feet, "show Uncle Nate what
you've learned."

	"Hey, what about me?" Pete whined.

	Uncle Nate pointed at Auntie Beth.  "Stand her up and use the other
end."  Auntie Beth turned her head and opened her mouth, but Uncle Nate
grated, "Want to swap ends?  Are you cut, Mike?  How about some nice, mixed-
breed kids, there, Beth?"  Auntie Beth tried to swallow Big Mike's cock while
all the men laughed.

	Cathy knew what Pete was doing.  "That's fucking, right?"

	"Right, Punkin.  Time to suck," Uncle Nate told her, and pulled her
head to his lap.

	Uncle Nate took a lot longer than Gizmo -- but he gave Cathy a lot of
instructions on how to make it better, too.  By the end, she knew she'd been
tricked, more or less -- one of those adult things -- and that the purpose of
it all was to provide men pleasure.  Now that she knew how, she could expect
to do it again, obviously.  Uncle Nate promised to show her some fun stuff
later, too.

	Auntie Beth pissed Uncle Nate off somehow while Cathy was busy; he had
Pete and Arch pick her up and drop her on Big Mike's cock a bunch of times.
Eventually, they let go and she pumped up and down on it herself for a while,
making noises that Cathy couldn't decide were happy or not, until Big Mike
grunted and blew his goo into her pussy.  She spent the rest of the night
looking like she was trying to decide whether she was mad or not -- then Uncle
Nate sent her home with Big Mike.

	Uncle Nate sent everyone else home and took Cathy and Desiree up to
his bedroom.  He explained that she was too young to fuck, but he licked her
pussy and fingered it and Desiree showed her how to make Uncle Nate happy with
her ass.  Cathy didn't do that then, but by the time she was ten, she was
accomplished at it ---and she was fucking at twelve.

	That was when the shit hit the fan with Daddy.  He came home early one
evening to find Cathy and Uncle Nate fucking like bunnies on the pool deck and
threw a fit.  Uncle Nate was more than mildly pissed that Daddy INSISTED that
they stop right in the middle of a fuck...  "Jesus Christ, Dick!  She's a
little blonde slut, just like her mother -- what's the big deal?"  Cathy took
no offense -- it WAS the truth, after all.  But Daddy went on and on about
it...  "He's just jealous," Uncle Nate told her.  "Get him to fuck you and
he'll settle down."  Cathy figured it wasn't a simple as that, but it WAS an
idea.

	Daddy ranted and raved and blamed himself and apologized for this and
that and tried to figure out what he could do about the whole thing -- but the
truth was, there wasn't much.  Daddy couldn't turn in Uncle Nate -- he owed
him too much.  Cathy cuddled up and let him whine and cry and piss and moan
and wear himself out -- then she seduced him.

	It wasn't hard -- all of Daddy's pussy was Uncle Nate's cast-offs, and
there hadn't been much around lately.  Auntie Beth was long gone -- something
Uncle Nate laughed about, since she ended up living with Big Mike for a year
and a half before he handed her and their half-breed kid off to some buddy of
his.  Desiree had hung around after her mother moved out and had put up with
three or four interlopers -- younger and older -- until about the time she was
fourteen and a half, then she'd announced one day that she was leaving, and
hit the door.  It was one of the most amicable partings between a woman and
Uncle Nate that Cathy had ever witnessed.

	Cathy was dessert for Uncle Nate.  He taught her things -- advanced
stuff -- slowly, when he felt like it.  She wasn't a main squeeze -- it was
more like he was bringing her along slowly as a protégé.  If she wanted to
party, he let her -- but he kept an eye on her and didn't let her get into
anything too deep.  But he was on sabbatical, more or less -- there was no
current Auntie, and hadn't been for a month or so.  That was why he'd decided
to fuck Cathy -- and why Daddy hadn't had a piece in a while, either.

	Cathy waited until Daddy had exhausted himself and his well of self-
pity and cuddled up to him while he got good and drowsy.  Then she suggested
that he get undressed, helped him, tucked him in, waited five minutes and
slipped off her robe and slid in under the blankets with him.  She put his
hard on in the crack of her ass, put his hand on a conical tit, and let nature
take its course.

	They were already fucking when she rolled him onto his back and threw
off the blankets so she could ride him reverse cowgirl, and he was blowing his
nut in her before he recognized the dimples over her hip bones.  Another bout
of caterwauling ensued, but it was hard for him to stay upset with her being
sweetly reasonable about the whole thing; besides, he was exhausted from the
first round.

	The next morning, she awakened him before the alarm with a blowjob.
He was horrified, of course, and made an effort to escape -- but Cathy acted
devastated that he was spurning her -- and he'd ALREADY fucked her -- so he
accepted the inevitable.

	But it didn't set well.  Fucking with Uncle Nate was just good, clean
fun -- but fucking with Daddy, while necessary, periodically, to keep him from
going off the deep end, was fraught with negative emotion, before and after.
When Cathy moved out, it was to avoid Daddy, not Uncle Nate and his games.

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

	Cathy ran down, uncertain why she'd bothered to blurt all of that.
Debra was giving her this 'poor thing' look.  "What?"

	"You've been through a lot," Wayne muttered.

	"I'm fine.  I'm not broken or anything.  Lots of people have a lot
worse things to deal with than anything I had," Cathy insisted.  "I'm not one
of those sissies who claims they're ruined forever because I sucked a little
cock.  Hell, it was fun at the time and more fun later!  People in third-world
countries catch that kind of crap all the time!"

	"You have to admit that it has changed your world view," Debra argued.

	"Growing up under Uncle Nate?  Probably.  Sex?  Probably not," Cathy
argued.  "Maybe Uncle Nate forced other girls -- and other women.  Hell, I'm
sure he did.  But he never forced me."

	"He lied to you," Debra replied.

	"Pete lied to me."  Cathy waved it off.  "It was a prank -- no big
thing."

	"Cathy," Wayne argued, "Your CAP scores say otherwise.  AI?"

	"Actually, Cathy may be correct.  Her psychological data says she
witnessed sexual abuse, and lived in an environment where women and sex were
commodities  -- but did not actually participate in any abuse and was never a
direct victim," the AI responded.  "Many sponsor households will be similar to
Cathy's experience in that concubines have defined roles that include sex and
subjugation; however, sex with children is prohibited in sponsor households.
Cathy's example may be instructive in the maintenance of a supportive
environment for raising children, but she lacks some of the prime markers for
abuse.  Notably, in her opinion she was NOT abused.  Whether we agree with her
or not, her perception of the situation is pivotal.  If she honestly believes
that she was not abused, then she was not, from a functional standpoint,
despite the objective evidence.

	"She could be in denial," Debra argued.

	"Her physiological responses suggest otherwise," the AI replied.
"There are exceptions to every rule, and Cathy appears to be one.  In your
society, child molestation is currently a popular subject of sensationalism.
The data indicates that while there is always a certain amount of this
activity going on at any particular moment, there has not been an increase
sufficient to merit the level of attention being focused upon the issue.  The
data indicates that in your culture the general public is being manipulated by
politicians and the media to create a distraction that will allow them to meet
other goals."

	"Such as?" Debra quirked an eyebrow.

	"In the case of the media, the search is for market share;
sensationalism of this nature draws viewers with a prurient interest," the AI
replied.  "The political motivations include justification for certain
invasions of personal privacy and other freedoms and the use of sensationalism
to secure elected positions."

	"Well, shouldn't these people be caught and controlled?" Debra asked.

	"Certainly," the AI agreed.  "The question is one of priority.  Are
these people the number one issue on the work lists of law enforcement
officials?  The data suggests otherwise.  The culture you just left believes
in a high degree of personal freedom for its membership -- but your government
has been presenting a case for the idea that certain groups are not worthy of
these protections and should not receive them.  Public sentiment, created in
part by the media, is that these adjustments to eligibility for the rights of
citizenship can be ignored.  Analysis indicates that this position has been
taken in error, and that once the government establishes adequate precedent
for intrusive activity in one area, it will likely spread until it is an
oppressive situation for the general populace -- but is irrevocable.  Legal
codes tend to be flawed, as they are created by individuals pursuing private
agendas -- that is one reason why the Confederacy does not sanction any
particular type of local government.  Laws intended to help the majority tend
to result in gross injustice to the exceptions; a complete analysis of the
circumstances is usually a better guide for the creation of justice than blind
application of legislation.  A case in point -- a major media outlet created a
series of programs in which they lured individuals over time into a situation
in which they arguably intended to create a sexual offense and were arrested.
Effectively, they manufactured a sex offender where there was none previously,
as there is no objective indication that the offender was looking for youth,
but merely an interest in sex.  There is no age limitation for looking for
sexual partners in your species' male genetic makeup, and procreation is based
upon individual factors of biological preparation in the female, and occurs
regularly as early as age twelve in some locations -- yet individuals who
appear at a location to examine a female whom they have not yet seen are
arrested for attempted sexual molestation before they can make a determination
of the female's actual viability as a sexual partner, based upon a deliberate
misrepresentation of the female's age and the legal fiction that all females
should remain untouched sexually until an age at which historically your
females may have had several children."

	Debra rubbed her forehead.  "Did you get all that?"

	"I think so," Wayne nodded.

	"I did," Cathy interjected.  "Basically, it said that these guys were
roped in because they were horny, not because they were looking for a kid to
molest.  I was hot to trot at age twelve -- I had B cup titties and a nice fur
patch, and everything was working.  If I went to a chat room and tried to set
up a date with a guy who couldn't even see me and got him all hot and bothered
over a couple of weeks, he might blow off my age based on the fact that I
wanted it.  But the cops would haul him off to jail because I wasn't eighteen.
These guys went one further, since the chick didn't even exist."

	"I remember those," Wayne muttered.  "They bothered me, but I couldn't
put my finger on why.  They talked about luring the guys over a couple of
weeks -- and the excerpts from the e-mail conversations they were using as
evidence of the guy's intentions were pretty vague, sometimes."

	"Precisely," the AI agreed.  "If they were honestly looking for child-
molesters, they should have presented them with someone who was obviously
biologically a child; instead, on some occasions, they presented a female who
was perhaps young but physically nubile -- or none at all.  This is classic
entrapment, and has its precedent in police prostitution stings.  It is
unclear why most of your jurisdictions passed legislation declaring
prostitution illegal when it provides an important social function; however,
once again, there is a correlation between aggressive police activity against
prostitution and the timeframes of your elective process.  In many cases, the
offenders were actively looking for prostitutes and associating with them, but
in a significant number of cases, the policewoman involved was actively
salacious, presenting obvious signs of sexual receptivity and drew in
individuals who were NOT actively seeking a prostitute but saw an unforeseen
opportunity for sex by her efforts, effectively creating an offense -- and an
offender -- where there were none."

	"So, where were we?" Debra asked.

	"We were examining the possibility that despite her age at the time of
her initial and subsequent sexual activity, she may not have functionally been
the direct victim of sexual abuse, although she certainly was, technically.
There is ample evidence in her testimony that her uncle is a sexual offender
and perhaps a predator -- but in her specific case, there is little evidence
that she is a victim, largely because she does not consider herself to be one.
Should her uncle be incarcerated for his actions against others?  It is highly
probable.  But in Cathy's case, the Confederacy, taking all of the evidence
into account, would be unlikely to order any punishment for those specific
acts."

	"So you are saying that what he did should be legal?" Debra accused.

	"The assertion is that the law concerns itself largely with acts, not
motivations or circumstances.  An act may be illegal yet appropriate for the
situation, and an act may be illegal, yet not damage anyone.  While we would
agree that his acts were illegal and were not appropriate, there is no
evidence here that Cathy was damaged."

	"I agree," Cathy noted stubbornly.  "Uncle Nate hurt others, but he
never hurt me -- maybe because I was family, I don't know.  If I found sex
early, it's because I got there myself, mostly.  Now can we PLEASE get on with
whatever ELSE we're gonna do tonight?"

	"Fine," Wayne sighed.  "Why don't you start smoking?"  He waved at his
cock.  Cathy grinned and rolled her lips over the tip.

	"I don't like it," Debra complained.  "It seems like we're justifying
something wrong here."

	"Well, you don't have to -- it's all over with, anyway," Wayne
replied, intent upon enjoying his blow job.

	Cathy popped her mouth off his cock.  "I should tell you about Eli,
sometime."

	"Eli?" Debra queried.

	"Yeah.  Skinny Jewish kid from school, same age as me.  Dark hair.
Eyeglasses.  A little too pretty for his own good.  Somebody invited him over
to swim -- Desiree, probably.  I didn't see it, but he discovered cocks,
somehow.  I don't know who started him, but he loved the stuff.  I learned
anal from Eli.  Big Mike used to hold him up in the air using his arms for a
basket under his knees and run him up and down..."

	"Spare me!"  Debra held up her hands.  Cathy grinned and went back to
sucking.  She would be fucking Wayne tonight -- and she was going to give that
old bitch Debra a run for her money!