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 This is an erotic story featuring adults and children.  If you don't want
to read such a thing, don't.  If it's illegal for you to read it whoever
and wherever you are, I don't really care.  Don't read it, or don't get
caught.

   This is my story.  It is made available under a Creative Commons
Attribution - Noncommercial - No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported license. 
You may copy, distribute, or transmit this work so long as authorship is
properly credited and these introductory paragraphs are included, and you
adhere to the terms set forth at
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/.

   This story is F-I-C-T-I-O-N.  No actual children or adults or anything
were involved in its production.  What part of "made up" don't you
understand?  Intelligent feedback gratefully accepted at rufusfugit at
yahoo dot com.  Stupid feedback and flames to /dev/null.

   This and other stories available at
/files/Authors/rufusfugit.
Notes:
This story is a sequel to the events presented in "Jenny's Couch", parts

1 through 25, set about a year later.

   I'd like to extend my thanks to the small group of deeply disturbed
individuals who make up my fan base.  :-) I write for enjoyment; my only
payment is knowing that my writing has brought pleasure to others.  So
feedback is always welcome.  Also, please support asstr.org - bandwidth
doesn't grow on trees.

   Jenny's Couch, Book II, part 1 (College Visit I) (Mg, ped, reluc, humil,
exhib, cons, oral, anal, prost) by Rufus Fugit

   I was in the bathroom with Karen, watching the naked 12-year-old do her
makeup, when the knock came at the hotel suite's door.  I admired the sweep
of her slender back and the gentle flare of her hips as the sixth-grader
leaned close to the mirror.  Her pert teacup breasts jiggled ever so
slightly, the upturned nipples pink and slightly swollen as the child
anticipated the night to come.  She had learned how to put on makeup from
Moira.  My former lover was a lot of things but "subtle" wasn't one of
them, and so with her heavy eyeshadow, blood-red lipstick, and raccoon-eye
mascara my niece looked like a cheap whore.  But since that's what she was,
it was fine.

   The knock sounded again.  I reached between Karen's thighs and briefly
caressed her lightly-furred vulva.  It was still swollen and bumpy with
rash - she'd had a busy week, which was why tonight was to be oral only. 
Her knees gave way slightly when I tweaked the prominent bud of her
clitoris, but she scowled at me in the mirror.  "Finish getting ready," I
said as I left the bathroom.

   The bedroom of the small suite was dim, the only light coming from the
television.  I crossed between it and the bed, my shadow flickering over
Renee's recumbent form, and walked through to get the door.  It was
Stanley, right on time.  I held my finger to my lips as I ushered the young
man in, then directed his attention through the doorway where he could see
Karen's younger sister on the bed.  Renee was propped up on three pillows.
The ten-year-old's hair was still in braids but mussed, stray tendrils of
dark brown framing her round face.  The wavering blue light from the tv
showed an avid expression on her childish face.  Her eyes were
heavy-lidded, lips parted, the tip of her tongue barely protruding.  She
was wearing a pink "Strawberry Shortcake" tshirt, and nothing else.  Her
naked legs were drawn up and spread wide, knees bent, heels bouncing
lightly on her hams.  A bottle of mineral oil lay on the rumpled spread
next to her, and her crotch glistened with it.  With one hand she pulled a
chubby butt cheek to the side, exposing her tight, well-greased anus.  With
the other she probed at the pinkish-brown asterisk with a slim chrome
vibrator.

   I glanced sideways at Stanley, smiling to myself at the young man's look
of astonishment.  He had a prominent hooked nose, a rather weak chin and a
large Adam's apple which sometimes gave him the unfortunate aspect of a
cartoon vulture.  He swallowed convulsively at the sight of his
foster-sister penetrating herself.  Her eyes were still glued to the tv
screen where a blonde with improbably large breasts, improbably long
fingernails, and improbably numerous piercings knelt naked on a thick shag
rug.  There was a well-muscled tattooed black man underneath her and
another behind her.  Both their penises were deeply embedded in her
stretched asshole.  Renee's own sphincter had yielded easily to the dildo
and she lay her head back against the pillows, sighing deeply as she slowly
slid a good three inches into her rectum.  She wrapped one hand around the
protruding part of the slim shaft and began working it gently in and out.
She made soft cooing noises each time she pushed it just a little bit
deeper into her bowels.  Even in the dim light I could see the muscles in
her ass and thighs tense and relax as she pumped slowly.  When nearly all
of the sex toy had disappeared into her butt she rotated the switch on the
boot, flicking it on to its highest setting.

   The fourth-grader gasped and threw her head back as a low hum filled the
room, overpowering the nearly-muted moans of ersatz pleasure coming from
the tv.  Her little hands clutched at the bedspread, her feet twisted and
her tiny toes curled as a spasm of pleasure shot through her body.  Her
belly heaved and her pink tshirt rode up slightly, baring her cute
bellybutton.  Her bald cunt was just barely split open, a thin streak of
moisture glistening on the undeveloped inner lips between her fat, pale
labia.

   "Ooo...ooo...ooo..." Renee was grunting softly as pleasure spread from
her stuffed rectum through her prepubescent body.  She covered her vulva
with her right hand and began grinding her palm against her moist baby
clitty, rotating her hips and scissoring her legs open and closed.  Her
eyes were screwed tight shut but she groped blindly on the nightstand with
her left hand until she found the small bottle with the lightning bolt on
the label.  Somehow she managed to uncap it one-handed.  She brought it to
her face, holding it under her nose.  Her narrow chest expanded, ribs
pushing against the thin fabric of her shirt, as she inhaled deeply once,
then twice, then again.

   I didn't need the fumes of the amyl nitrate to get me hard.  My cock was
throbbing in my jeans as I watched my 10-year-old lover pleasure herself.
Her grunts became moans, her high voice climbing higher and higher as the
drug coursed through her system, magnifying the sexual pleasure until her
immature body reached its peak.  "OooOOOoooOOOO!!" She cried out, arching
her back off the bed.  Her legs began trembling rapidly as her climax
overwhelmed her.  "OOOOOooooahhhh..." she breathed out as the tension
slowly drained from her compact form.  She pushed fingers along her
slippery bald slit, then raised her hand to her face and sniffed absently.

   But the preteen's relaxation was short-lived.  Renee opened her eyes and
saw she had an audience.  "Stanley!" she shrieked, grabbing at the
bedspread and yanking it over herself.  But in so doing she overbalanced
and fell out of the bed, landing on her hands and knees in front of us, her
tight little backside up in the air.  The spread settled over her, the
dildo still buried in her ass poking it up like a circus tent.  I couldn't
help laughing at her modesty.  She didn't mind being naked with me, of
course, and Karen was her sister, but otherwise the child was rather shy.
She was blushing furiously as she groped under the blanket, trying to turn
off the humming sex toy.

   I caught a glimpse of Karen's pale, thin form as the child crossed,
still naked, from the bathroom to the closet next to it.  With an
apologetic shrug at Stanley I stepped into the bedroom and closed the door,
leaving him in the outer room of the suite.  I flipped the bedspread off of
Renee, pulling her to her feet and turning her to face the bed.  She bent
forward, propping her elbows on the mattress as I withdrew the vibrator
from her ass and flicked it off.  "Why did you let Stanley watch me?" she
demanded crossly.  "I'm not a whore...ah!" The fourth-grader exhaled
sharply as I knelt to nibble at her anus, pushing the tip of my tongue
briefly inside the reddened, slightly distended opening.

   "Sorry, sweetie," I murmured.  As I spoke I planted gentle kisses on
first one cheek, then the other.  "You look so sexy when you masturbate
like that, I was stunned for a minute.  But I'll make sure Stanley knows
it's your sister that's the whore and not you." I slid my hands around to
her slightly pudgy belly, pushing her tshirt up until my fingers cupped the
plum-sized boobies that had only recently sprouted.  She had no real figure
yet.  Except for her new titties her body was still a child's, just as I
liked it.  I licked my way up the curve of her spine, at the same time
tugging gently first at one fat nipple, then the other.  The smell of
sweaty little girl was, as always, a potent aphrodisiac.  Passing over the
shirt now rumpled under her armpits, I kissed the back of neck and buried
my nose in her hair.

   Renee squirmed beneath me, rolling over on her back.  Her arms went
around my neck and she pulled my mouth to hers.  She kissed noisily, her
tongue squirming erotically against my lips.  Her legs likewise went around
my waist, heels pressed against the small of my back and she ground her
crotch lightly against my belt buckle.  She was still flushed from the amyl
nitrate, and I could feel the heat of her smooth, bare skin through my
clothing.  The ten-year-old broke our kiss and panted into my mouth.  "My
cunt is really tingling hard.  The vibrator's nice - ah!  - but I want your
thingy.  Will you fuck my butt tonight?"

   "Ohhh, yes," I breathed.  In the year since my careful grooming had paid
off, Renee had become even more of an enthusiastic sex partner.  She was
completely uninhibited with me.  I had never heard that you could inoculate
a child against shame, but my occasional anal injections of semen seemed to
serve that purpose.  I rubbed the injector against her slippery slit now.
Her breath caught as the rough denim of my fly pressed against her tender
tissues.  "You made my cock very stiff, you sexy girl.  How am I going to
watch Karen with a big boner, thinking about putting it in you?"

   At the mention of Karen, Renee's expression clouded.  Her eyes looked
black in the dimness as she gazed up at me.  "I should come with you. 
Karen might need me."

   "Now, we talked about this, sweetie.  You do a great job protecting her
when she's just fucking one boy or two.  But there's going to be a whole
lot of grownups tonight, and you know how that can get." The child's brow
lowered further as she remembered.  "I promise I'll take good care of your
sister." I kissed Renee's brow gently, then lowered my lips back to hers. I
kept my eyes open, meeting the child's frank, open gaze as our tongues
played together and my heart swelled with love.

   A shadow fell over us as Karen stepped in front of the tv set.  I lifted
my head to look at the older girl.  Her hair shone with brushing, hanging
loose down past her waist.  She had put on a tight red miniskirt and a
thigh-length jacket of real rabbit fur with matching boots.  Her entire
outfit had been purchased with a sliver of her earnings from prostitution;
that was one reason I had offered to take the girls to visit their foster
brother before bringing him home from college, so that Karen could do some
shopping without her parents' knowledge.  "Are you ready to go, Karen?" I
asked.  "Put your glasses on, you'll want them tonight."

   She retrieved her eyeglasses from the bureau and sat down on the bed as
she adjusted the stylish pale blue frames on her face.  I leaned back and
took my weight off Renee, who rolled onto her side to look at her big
sister.  "Have fun, Karen, I hope you get fucked really good."

   "I'm not fucking tonight," Karen reminded her.  "My babycunt is still
really sore."

   "Oh.  I forgot.  Well, drink lots of squirt!"

   "Kiss your sister goodbye and let's go," I interrupted.  Karen bent as
if to kiss Renee's cheek but then at the last second swooped down on her
naked crotch and slurped loudly at her tight, weeping slit.  Renee squealed
and windmilled her legs as her big sister's teeth closed briefly on the
younger girl's clit, and Karen giggled.  I thought back to the beach party
a year ago, how Karen had howled in anguish as I had choreographed her
sexual assault by Renee.  Since that night, though, she had become an eager
incestuous partner, seeking it out as a demonstration of love.  Sex had
become currency for the 12-year-old; most often for money but with Renee,
with me, and a few others for simple affection.

   "Remember the rules," I told Renee as I stood.  She retrieved a pair of
pink panties from the floor and stepped into them while I spoke.  "You can
call room service if you want a snack but other than that don't open the
door for anyone.  If someone knocks and won't go away, call the front desk.
And you can buy one more movie if you want, but only one.  We should be
back before midnight.  I'll call if we're going to be later." I stooped to
give her one more quick kiss on the cheek and we exchanged "love you"s.

   I forestalled Stanley's questions by demanding money.  He handed it
over, six crisp new hundred-dollar bills as we had agreed.  "OK, that's
three hours," I said.  "Let's go." And taking Karen's hand I walked out the
door, leaving Stanley no choice but to follow.  I shushed him while we were
inside the hotel and set a brisk pace as we stepped out into the night.

   The snow had stopped and the wind had died away but it was bitterly
cold. My nose stung and the tips of my fingers quickly went numb.  The sky
was just starting to clear.  Streetlights reflected off the new snow,
making the moonless night bright.  We set off across the park, our boots
crunching on the snow and clouds of misted breath trailing behind us. 
Finally, Stanley found his voice.  "What's...why's Karen coming with us? 
You said..." he trailed off, unwilling to speak freely in front of his
elementary-school-aged foster sister.

   I stopped in front of an ice-glazed park bench and looked at him.  "I
said I'd get you a hooker for the party tonight.  Well, here she is." I
took Karen by the shoulders and turned her to face him.  She looked up at
the much taller boy, her gaze steady.  Stanley blinked from her to me and
back.

   "But...but...she's just a kid!"

   I started to speak but Karen interrupted me.  "I'm not a little kid,
Stanley.  I'm a whore."

   "You don't know what you're saying!" he burst out.

   "Yes I do, Stanley.  I'm a whore.  I started fucking a year ago and I've
been a whore ever since." Karen nearly spat out the words.  I could hear
her breath whistling in her nose, and under her bright rouge her cheeks got
even redder.  "Look at my face, Stanley.  This is what a whore looks like.
Look at these clothes.  Who do you think bought them?  You think Mommy and
Daddy would buy me clothes like this?  I bought them with money I got from
fucking.  I fuck anyone that pays for it." Stanley was shaking his head
back and forth as if to deny what he was hearing.  Grunting with
impatience, Karen put her butt against the back of the park bench and
raised one leg, bracing her foot against the light pole.  She pulled up the
front of her skirt and Stanley's eyes nearly popped out of her head.  Her
bare legs went all the way up - she was pantiless and the orange
mercury-vapor light fell on her naked crotch.  "Look at my cunt, Stanley,"
the sixth-grader demanded.  "Look at my whore cunt!"

   Stanley gaped while I admired the view I'd seen so many times before. 
Karen's pubes were growing in as blonde as the hair on her head.  She had a
nice tuft on the top of her prominent pubic mound which was just starting
to coarsen and curl.  Her labia majora were only lightly fuzzed and through
the thin coat of fine hair an angry pink rash was plainly visible.  Her
inner lips protruded slightly, the dark red of her hole in deep shadow.  A
dollop of cunt cream clung to one lip.  Her oversized clitoris stood up
proudly.  Wisps of vapor rose from her heated skin - her cunt was literally
steaming in the frigid air.  "Look at it," Karen repeated.  "Touch it,
Stanley.  Touch my hot babycunt.  I know you want to.  Everyone does. 
Touch my babycunt, touch my babycunt..." Karen's voice became a high
singsong chant.  She was shivering from cold or excitement or both. 
Stanley moved as if in a trance.  He slowly reached forward until the hairy
back of his hand brushed against the child's sex.  "Ah!" Karen gasped at
the contact.  She started to lose her balance but grabbed Stanley's wrist
with both hands, steadying herself and pushing his hand against her cunt.
"Ooooh, that's it," she moaned.  "Yessss, rub my hot babycunt, rub it! 
Touch meee...ohhh, it's good, ahhh!"

   Stanley's hand was moving like it had a mind of its own.  Juice started
to ooze freely from Karen's gaping slit, coating her labia, her swelling
clitty, and her foster-brother's fingers.  Even in the piercing cold I
could smell her, spicy and more pungent as her body traveled further into
puberty.  "But how...when...?" Stanley stammered out, his eyes glued to her
leaking crotch.

   "Feel it, ahhh, Stanley.  Feel how hot my babycunt is?" Stanley nodded
dumbly.  "It's hot, soooo hot all the time.  It's been hot like that since
I was eleven.  I don't know why, but the only thing that makes it feel
better is fucking.  And," Karen continued, repeating a lesson from many
months ago, "If I'm going to be fucking I might as well be making money. 
So I'm a whore." Her voice fell into the singsong tone again and her gaze
unfocused.  "I'm a whore, I'm a whore, I'm a whory whory whore, I'm a
whore, I'm a whoaH, ah, ah, AH!"

   Karen was getting close to an orgasm and I knew from experience that she
did best if she was a little worked up, so I gently pulled Stanley's hand
off the sixth-grader's soaking cunny.  Karen groaned in frustration. 
"Convinced?" I asked, and when Stanley still hesitated I said briskly,
"Look, you already paid, we're not giving refunds, and it's too late anyway
to get someone else.  And look at the little whore - she needs it bad." It
was true.  Karen's heavily-made-up face was set in a grimace. 
"Ugh...unhh," she grunted between gritted teeth.  Both her hands were
between her legs now, One was rubbing hard at the rash covering her vulva,
trying to relieve the burning irritation without scratching.  With her
other hand she had seized her stiffened clitoris between thumb and
forefinger and was pulling and squeezing at the hot, wet nub.  Her juices
were flowing freely, making gooey trails down the insides of her shaking
thighs.  She gave a low, almost despairing cry as I took her wrists firmly
and pulled her to her feet.  "C'mon, Stanley, let's go," I said impatiently
and took a step forward.  Karen staggered slightly but fell in behind me.

   Stanley looked dazed but he obediently took up the lead again.  He was
almost a decade older than Karen, had been fostered by her parents shortly
before his fifth birthday.  With such an age gap he hadn't been very close
to the girls although they had worshipped him as a big brother.  Since he'd
left for college his visits home were infrequent - it was an overnight
drive or a long, annoying day by plane and his birth parents were trying to
reestablish a relationship with him which made him feel weird about seeing
Jenny and Rob.  The last time he'd seen Karen she was a gap-toothed child
of not-quite-nine.  There was little of that child visible behind the stark
makeup and aggressive attitude of the preteen prostitute walking with us.

   Stanley led us out of the park and down a small side street.  We stepped
carefully on the icy sidewalk.  This genteelly shabby neighborhood was
mostly housing for students and junior instructors.  Finals ended tomorrow,
so most people were either studying or had already left for semester break.
The street was quiet except for our feet squeaking on the snow.  We turned
the corner and came upon a house that was an exception.  Light poured from
the windows backing a rickety-looking wraparound porch and the open front
door.  Parked cars filled the driveway, both sides of the narrow street,
and every square inch of the small front yard.  Unintelligible hip-hop
music echoed off the neighboring buildings.  A dog was barking behind a
fence that enclosed the back yard and a narrow run along one side.  Stanley
picked up his pace but Karen hung back, pulling at my hand.  She tossed her
long, straight hair away from her face.  Her eyes were wide and she
swallowed nervously.  "C'mon, kiddo, let's go." I led the way across the
street, up the steps and into the house.  Karen dragged her feet harder and
harder, until by the time we got into the front door she balked completely.

   The air in the house was humid and warm, shockingly so after the
freezing night.  I looked around at the noisy confusion.  The front room
was crowded with college kids of both sexes, and through the archway
leading to the back of the house I could see heads bobbing and limbs flying
in what passed for dancing.  There were plastic cups and beer bottles
covering pretty much every flat surface.  A few couples, mostly girls,
danced in the center of the room, bumping into people passing by in the
constricted space.  There was a sagging couch on the far wall.  Two boys
and three girls sat on it , and several more in a ragged circle at their
feet passing a bong around.  Eddies of smoke swirled around the light
fixtures and hung at eye-level.  I smelled tobacco, pot, and those nasty
clove cigarettes beloved of poser art students everywhere.

   I looked back at Karen.  She stood stock-still, backed against the front
door frame.  Her head was bowed.  Her glasses had fogged up as soon as we
stepped into the house so I couldn't see her eyes but tears were tracking
her flushed cheeks.  Her shoulders were hunched over as she tried to make
herself small.  Her long, coltish legs were pressed tight together.  She
was shivering violently despite the heat.  The preteen looked terrified.

   I gently removed Karen's glasses, stepping close as I cleaned the lenses
on the hem of her skirt so as not to flash her cunny to the entire room. 
"What's the matter, sweetie?"

   "I..." Karen swallowed again, her eyes glued to the floor.  I took her
chin in my hand and forced her to look at me.  I was close enough that she
could probably feel my hardon as I watched the tears well and spill down
her heavily-rouged cheeks.  "Too many," she gasped out.  "Too much. 
They'll...hurt me.  Pee on me...oh, my babycunt, it hurts so bad, please,
no, don't make me, please God please I can't..." She was blushing furiously
now - even the part of her long, beautiful blonde hair was bright pink.

   I realized that the sixth-grader was on the edge of a panic attack,
flashing back to last year's beach party.  Things had gotten pretty badly
out of hand there, though I had assumed that since she had still been
trembling and groaning with orgasm when we had lifted her semen-drenched
body out of Moira's car trunk after the 20-minute drive back to the
apartment that she was OK.  And Renee had told me she had become relentless
after returning home, fucking anyone and everyone she could find who was
interested in her developing body - high school boys, men she met at the
park, fathers of the kids she babysat for, even a few kids her own age. 
She had learned how to spot guys who were interested and was absolutely
shameless in propositioning them and demanding money for her favors.  More
days than not Renee found her rinsing out spunk-soaked panties in their
bathroom sink before their parents got home.  Mostly I was reassured
because Karen hadn't said a word to her parents or teachers or anyone else
who could have led me to a series of unpleasant and unproductive interviews
with the local law enforcement community.

   But I realized as I gathered the trembling child into a hug, for the
last year she had almost always fucked one guy at a time or the occasional
threesome.  Blowing a JV basketball team last month had been an aberration
even if it had inspired me to set up tonight's festivities.  The raucous
crowd must've brought back some scary memories.

   "It's OK, Karen," I pulled the preteen's supple body against me,
enveloping her in a hug.  Her breath was hot against my neck.  I moved one
hand down, reaching underneath her short skirt, exposing her naked ass and
squeezing a cheek.  She gasped as she felt a cold finger probing at her
anus.  I reached between her thighs, moistening my hand on her weeping
pubescent snatch and then worried at her back opening until my finger slid
in part way.  She sighed at the penetration and pulled herself tighter
against me.

   "You're a whore, Karen," I whispered in her ear.  "God made you a whore,
and you're the best whore in the world.  You're going to suck plenty of
cock tonight.  Your belly is going to be full of hot cum." My breath was
ragged as my words triggered a cascade of my own memories, memories of
Karen shy and ashamed as she guiltily admitted to me that she masturbated,
then of her naked on a beach, covered in jizz, tottering from one stranger
to another begging them to use her barely-pubescent body.

   "I'm a whore," Karen half-whispered, half-sobbed, as I pulled my finger
out of her hot, tight rectum.  As she raised her tear-streaked face, I
could see her lips were moving, soundlessly repeating her mantra.

   "But it's just a few of Stanley's friends, not the whole party.  There's
nothing to be scared of.  They're waiting for you upstairs.  It's just one
room.  No one else down here has to know, I promise.  OK?" Hesitantly, she
nodded, even tried a smile, but her eyes were still wide with fear.  "Stay
here," I said, and stepped into the room long enough to grab a bottle and a
shot glass from the top of a scarred upright piano.  "Drink this," I pushed
the glass into her hand.  "Don't try to taste it, it's nasty, just pour it
down your throat and swallow."

   Karen tried to obey me but pounding shots is a learned skill.  She
choked and coughed, spraying the front of my jacket with cheap tequila, but
got most of it down.  She clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle the
coughing, her eyes watering again but not from emotion.  After a second she
got her breathing under control and moved her hand down to her belly,
panting a bit and rubbing her belly as the harsh liquor burned its way down
and spread warmth from her stomach.  Her smile firmed up as the alcohol hit
her bloodstream.  "You OK?" I asked, and this time her nod was firm.

   "I'm good," the 12-year-old said to me.  "I wanna suck some cocks now."
She turned and started up the stairs, only stumbling a little.
   To be continued...