Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 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.

   Jenny's Couch, Book II, part 4 (College Visit 4) (M+g, ped, exhib,
humil, cons, nc, prost, oral, anal, best, pierc, tort) by Rufus Fugit

   "So how ya doing?  I didn't catch your name," I said to the thin emo
boy. I leaned in close so that our shoulders were almost touching.  He
stood with his back against the foyer wall near the foot of the stairs. 
Despite the frigid draft from the half-open front door, his face was a
little sweaty.

   "Umm...they call me Beej," he said, then looked puzzled as I guffawed.

   I shook my head, dismissing his question.  "You go to school here,
Beej?"

   "Yeah."

   "But not the U," I guessed.

   "No," he admitted slowly.  He swallowed.  "I'm a sophomore at South
High. Uhhh..." he groaned.

   "Pretty good, isn't she?" We looked down together to where Karen kneeled
between our feet.  She was still naked, of course.  Drying semen was
flaking off her face, her back, her perky little titties, her belly.  She
had tied her tangled, waist-length blonde hair into a sloppy bun; it stayed
up by virtue of all the sticky goo matting it together.  Her butt rested on
her heels, her bare toes bent and splayed against the rough wood floor,
spine straight.  She had one hand holding the boy's belt buckle back to
pull his pants open.  The other was down between her thighs, and her
fingers made sticky sounds as she flicked the dark red, swollen bud of her
clit back and forth.  Her lips smacked louder, though, as she sucked
sloppily on the stiff cock filling her mouth.  Her glassy eyes darted from
his face to mine and back as she noisily slurped at the glans.  Spit
drooled down her chin as she worked.  I had my body angled to mostly hide
Karen from the boisterous crowd in the main room, and Beej's black duster
was half wrapped around her.  People pushing past us to the stairs could
see more or less what was happening but not that Karen was completely
unclothed.

   Beej swallowed again, and jerked out a nod as his eyes closed with
pleasure.  But they opened wide to stare at me when I continued casually,
"You know she's only twelve."

   "Twelve?" His voice cracked.

   "Relax," I said, though he had made no move to pull his cock out of the
sixth-grader's sucking mouth.  "She's been hooking for over a year.  Can't
you tell she's a professional?" I stroked Karen's sweaty forehead as I
looked down at her fondly.  Her face was flushed, maybe just from exertion
rather than embarrassment.  She was well-used to me discussing her runaway
sexual appetite with strangers and anyway she was probably high enough not
to care.

   "Oh...yeahhhh," Beej breathed out, then he grabbed Karen's blushing ears
with both hands and pulled her face into his crotch.  I noticed that his
nails were bitten and ragged as he started fucking her mouth in earnest. 
Karen gagged a bit and slapped her hand against his thigh in a futile
protest; before she could get loose the boy jerked his head back, rose up
on his toes, and for the ninth time that evening my niece's mouth was
flooded with hot, sticky boy-juice.  She gagged and tried to swallow, but
couldn't with her nose mashed against Beej's sparse pubes and his cock head
lodged in her glottis.  She tilted her head back but the pearly goo still
overflowed, oozing in twin trails from the corners of her mouth.  With a
heave she was able to break his grip.  The back of her head bounced off my
thigh as Beej's cock popped out of her mouth and slapped her on her nose,
squirting a last shot across her eyeglass lenses.  She coughed, spraying
drool and cum onto the cold floor between her knees, swallowed twice, then
leaned her head back and met my eyes, smiling saucily as her thin frame
shook with a deep, drawn-out belch.

   "So, Beej," I said, as the boy tried to uncross his eyes.  "You here
with your friends?" He nodded, fumbling with his pants.  I asked him some
more questions and got the answers I hoped for.  He rubbed at some spots of
jizz dotting his trousers and crossed the hall back into the thick of the
party.

   I grabbed Karen under one armpit and hoisted the stoned little girl to
her feet.  She wobbled drunkenly, giggling.  "I'm naked!  Wheeee!" She
tried to spin on one foot but only succeeded in bouncing off the wall and
falling against me.  "Ow!" she exclaimed softly as her swollen vulva
scraped across my jeans.  She bent to cup it briefly with her hands,
wriggling in discomfort as her fingers pressed against the burning rash
that dotted the fat outer lips.  Then she pushed off me and pranced around
the foyer.  She kicked her knees high, waving her arms and laughing as her
teacup-sized breasts jiggled.  "Up in the shky!" she slurred.  "Itsh a
bird...itsh a plane...itsh Sooperwhore!" She stumbled, fell to her knees,
and rolled onto her back on the dusty floor.  Her legs fell open wide and
the chubby parenthesis of her vulva with its heavy peppering of bright red
rash pulled open, exposing the darker red of her oozing hole.  Her clit
stood straight up, straining in the cold air.  She rubbed down her sticky
belly with one hand until her first two fingers captured the slick,
oversized bud.  Her eyes glazed over and little grunts and moans escaped
her spermy lips as she masturbated.

   "Superwhore, huh?" I reached into my jacket pocket and withdrew a black
Sharpie.  Bending over, I traced a big "S" and "W" on the sixth-grader's
heaving chest.  She didn't seem to notice, just kept playing with herself.
Thick cream smeared her skinny thighs and dripped onto the floorboards. 
She moaned louder as I seized her nipples, but the moan became a cry of
pain as I squeezed them as hard as I could and pulled, deforming her
rounded titties into elongated cones and actually lifting her upper body.
She scrambled to find her balance as I hoisted her to her feet.  "C'mon,
superwhore, it's time to clean you up a bit."

   Karen pressed her hands against her aching breasts, looking
reproachfully at me.  I took her shoulders and turned her around, intending
to push her ahead of me through to where I supposed the kitchen was.  A
random blast of freezing air from the half-open door made her clutch her
elbows to her sides.  But then she stiffened and I realized it was not the
cold, rather the sight of the room that I was urging her toward.  I thought
I'd gotten her drunk enough that she wouldn't mind exposing herself to so
many strangers, but no.  It had been a full year now, but apparently the
residual trauma from Moira's beach party ran deep.  Even though she'd ended
up happy, or at least satiated and certain that she was indeed the whore
I'd been telling her she was (not to mention several hundred dollars
richer), she still balked and pressed her naked body back against me.  She
turned her head aside and closed her eyes, whimpering "No, please, no..."
softly.

   "Karen, c'mon, we haven't got time for this.  It's just a few steps to
the kitchen.  No one will notice." But she wasn't hearing me, just shaking
her head and sniveling.  It was her warm bare body against mine, her bony
shoulder blades pressing into my ribs, that set me off.  I'd been hard all
night and now a spurt of anger pushed my arousal to greater heights. 
"Goddammit!" I growled, seizing my niece by the back of her neck.  I turned
her around and shoved her none-too-gently against the wall, shifting my
grip so that her neck was stretched.  She had to stand up on tiptoe to keep
from choking.  Her eyes bulged in shock but I squeezed her mewling to
silence.  With my free hand I jerked my jeans open.  I pulled my briefs to
the side and freed my cock out the leghole.  I stepped forward, pressing
the hot length of it against Karen's slimy slit, then bent just enough to
wedge the head against her opening.  She shook her head, eyes begging me
silently to stop, but I didn't.  With a single thrust I buried myself
inside the little girl.

   I didn't want to be so harsh with her but all kids need limits,
especially when they reach Karen's age.  They'll start testing and I firmly
believe that, as a caring adult, you really need to stiffen your resolve.
Besides omyfuckingod, she was tight and slick and hot and there were only
two things in the whole world - each on one end of her little sister - that
my penis felt better inside.

   Her struggles twisted her channel around my hardness, the muscles
grabbing and squeezing until I felt my cum starting to rise.  I resisted
with all my might, panting raggedly until the urge receded.  Renee was
waiting for me back at the hotel and my preteen lover would be unhappy if I
spent myself in her big sister.  "Yeow!" Karen squealed as I leaned back,
pinning her against the wall like a butterfly or a pithed frog.  "My
babycunt, ow, it hurts, please take it out please, please God oh God oh God
you're killing me..." Her legs flailed behind me, heels thumping uselessly
against by back and butt - uselessly except for the shock of pleasure I got
as each kick clenched her vaginal sheath.  Her stretched cunt lips made
little pussy-fart sounds as I drove into her, and I felt hot juice dripping
into the hairs on my scrotum.

   I leaned forward until we were nose-to-nose.  "That's enough!" I said
sharply, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust.  Karen's vagina was
still childishly shallow so even though I was no more than average length,
she winced as each surge butted into her tender cervix.  "Now look - all I
want to do is get you cleaned up so your clothes don't get all sticky when
you get dressed.  But you're still a whore, and you're still on the clock.
Behave and we'll just walk right through to the kitchen.  Keep bitching and
I'll dump you on your hot little ass in the middle of that room, peel your
legs open and let everyone know you're open for business, and before you
can say spermatozoa you'll have thirty boys trying to fuck you all at once.
So what's it going to be?"

   Karen was beyond speech now, moaning and writhing in pain as my pubes
scratched against her tortured labia, but she jerked out a nod that I
interpreted to mean she'd be good.  At my direction she wrapped her legs
around me under my jacket; I felt her lock her skinny ankles in the small
of my back with her knees up almost beneath my armpits.  She put her arms
around my neck and I pulled my jacket around us, pressing the open corners
between my palms and the tender cheeks of her ass and thereby mostly hiding
her nude and disheveled state.  She squealed when the jacket zipper scraped
and dug into her perineum, then she closed her eyes tight and buried her
head under my chin.  With the child fully impaled I edged around a trio
standing in the archway and started making my way through the main room.  I
had to waddle as my open pants wanted to edge down my hips but fortunately
I'd gained a few pounds since I bought this pair and they were fairly snug.
Karen was whimpering into my neck, "ooooooh, it hurts, my whore babycunt,
oh jeez it hurts so bad," but so softly that no one could hear her above
the music.  My shirt dampened with her tears.  Her hair still smelled
tantalizingly of her floral conditioner but more strongly of sweat,
marijuana, and of course semen.

   It was slow going through the press of bodies.  Several times people
bumped against us, causing me to penetrate the sixth-grader to a depth she
found uncomfortable.  I had to distract myself again.  "Laura
Bush...Barbara Bush...Barbara Bush fucking Dick Cheney...me fucking Dick
Cheney's maggot-blown suicide corpse in his cell in The Hague..." I mumbled
antiphonally with Karen's quiet crying.

   You would think a grown man walking through a crowded party with a
naked, cum-spattered preteen impaled on his cock would attract some
attention, but it was just like I told Karen way back on last Hallowe'en,
when I forced her to trick-or-treat naked except for some expert bodypaint:
people see what they expect to see.  My jacket mostly covered us; people
maybe got a flash of the knobs of the little girl's spine as we moved past
but they were intent on their own conversations, the room was smoky and
dimly lit, and by the time someone registered a "what the fuck?" moment we
had moved on.

   We got through to the kitchen without incident, only to find to my
dismay that it was just as crowded as the main room.  There were kegs in
opposite corners, each with its own line of eager acolytes.  Karen was
getting heavy.  I jiggled her to relieve my arms, bouncing her once on my
shaft and oh shit it was almost too much.  "Squeeze!" I gritted out.  "Hard
as you can!  Now!" Fortunately she obeyed, though she pressed her open
mouth against my shoulder to muffle a cry of pain.  Her velvety slick cunt
clamped down on the root of my organ, damming the flow and giving me a few
precious seconds to again force down the urge to climax.  And it also let
me spot a door at the back of an odd little alcove next to the
refrigerator. I made for it, turned the knob and stepped through.

   The house had obviously been remodeled and cut up into various
configurations over several decades as student housing.  It looked like at
some point they'd knocked out the back of what had been a pantry.  We
stepped into a mudroom, made by enclosing part of the wraparound porch. 
There were several pairs of snow boots piled along one wall beneath an
equally messy row of heavy coats hanging from hooks.  The room was windows
on all sides except for a sliding glass door on the wall facing the back
yard.  The windows were curtained but the room was still chilly.  An
electric radiator in one corner provided the only heat.  There were two
bicycles locked in congress with a third hanging down from a ceiling rack,
next to a small grill piled with barbecue utensils.  There was a low,
scarred coffee table and a sheet-covered loveseat next to the radiator, but
that was it for furniture.  A 40-watt bulb burned in a bare ceiling
fixture. The floor was covered in Astroturf.

   I bent to set Karen down on the loveseat, reaching behind to unlink her
ankles.  I slid most of the way out of her steamy cunt and it took an
effort of will not to plunge back into her and thrust until I painted her
insides with incestuous sperm.  But I clamped my jaws and pulled back.  My
cock slapped against my shirt and cast a tail of liquid, my precum and her
own adolescent cunt cream, against the child's taut belly.  She collapsed
back against the sprung cushions, legs splayed.  She buried her face in her
hands, sobbing in pain.  She tried to close her thighs but the burning rash
was too intense.  "Owoooo, my babycunt," she mumbled through her tears,
"It's killing me, it's on fire, make it stop, God, make it stop."

   I left her like that and stepped back into the crowded, brightly-lit
kitchen.  I rummaged in the drawers until I found a bowl, a clean
dishtowel, and a zip-top plastic bag.  I filled the bowl with warm water
and the bag with ice.  I also liberated a half-pint of peach schnapps I
spotted at the back of the freezer.  I closed the mudroom's door behind me.
I squatted next to the crying child, admiring her.  Even with her face red
and distorted she was beautiful.  Her developing breasts, her pale,
cum-crusted skin, her delicious, aromatic cunt with its dusting of blond
hair and its oversized, glistening clitoris...I shook my head, and gently
placed the bag full of ice against her rash-covered crotch.  Karen gasped
from the shock of the cold, then sighed as relief immediately spread
through her.  I gently took one of her hands and pressed it against the
bag. "There, sweetie, you hold that and your cunt will feel better." She
hunched her pubis forwards, lifting her legs and bending her knees so the
ice could cover her entire vulva and her inner thighs.

   Karen rested her head against the cushion.  I lifted one skinny ankle
long enough to squeeze in next to her on the loveseat, then rested her
twitching bare leg on the arm.  I gently lifted off her eyeglasses and,
with the bowl of warm water in my lap, set about cleaning up the mess she
had made of herself.  I gently wiped her face, removing the dried ejaculate
and the worst of her tear-streaked makeup so that she no longer looked like
a demented clown.  I worked down to her neck, her upper chest, her lovely
pert boobs, her belly.  I had her lean forward so that I could clean the
stripes of dried spunk from her back.  She was unresisting.  Her tears
slowed and stopped, her eyes drifted closed, and she sighed with pleasure
at the gentle touch of the warmed towel on her skin.

   I got down to kneel between her spread legs and continued cleaning her
lower body.  I left her cunt alone rather than move the ice bag.  Her soles
were grey with dirt so I cleaned them especially well.  When I was done, I
set the cloth and bowl aside.  I took one thin foot in my hand and gently
kissed the pad of each delicate toe in turn.  Then I licked the length of
her arch and dug my tongue in between each of her toes.  Her leg twitched
and she giggled softly.  I kissed her ankle and continued working my way up
her leg, brushing my lips over the supple skin, pausing here and there to
rub my cheek against the fine golden hairs.  When I reached the top of her
thighs I licked across her belly, pausing to tongue her navel and blow a
quick raspberry.  She giggled again and her eyelids fluttered.  Then I
kissed my way down the other leg, finishing by sucking each pale toe in
turn as the preteen's breathing slowed and deepened.  I stood, clutching my
iron-hard penis through my jeans, and again sat down next to her.  I leaned
close, so that her sweaty scent curled in my nostrils, and planted little
butterfly kisses all over her face.

   "What a beautiful little whore you are," I whispered into Karen's ear.
"I'm so proud of you.  You're such a good cocksucker, aren't you?" She
gulped and nodded without opening her eyes.  "I'm sorry I had to yell at
you," I continued, completely ignoring the physical abuse that had
accompanied my raised voice.  I stroked my fingers gently across her
extended neck.  "But you're my responsibility and I know what's best.  You
have to listen.  Okay?" She nodded.  "Okay?" I repeated, putting just the
slightest pressure on her throat.

   "Okay," she rasped out.

   "Good girl," I praised her, immediately moving my hand from her throat
and down to her chest.  "Good little whore.  Here, have a sip of this." I
lifted the peach schnapps to her lips.  She swallowed, coughed, and sighed
as the liquor spread warmth through her naked body, combatting the room's
chill.

   I gently brushed across her left nipple, drawing a sharp inhale as her
body relaxed into the familiar experience of being sexually touched.  I
trailed my hand down her belly, kneading the soft musculature.  I twirled
my fingers in the sparse pubes decorating her mound.  She shifted her butt
slightly to tilt her pelvis up as I pressed lower until I encountered the
moisture and heat of her clitoris, still standing out at the peak of her
slit.  "Ah!" Karen gasped as I pressed lightly.

   "What's that?" I whispered.  "No, keep your eyes closed."

   "It's my - my clitty," Karen gulped.

   "But what are you?"

   "I'm a whore."

   "Good girl, yes." I gave her another sip of schnapps.  "So what is
it...?"

   "It's my whore clitteeee..." the twelve-year-old moaned as I twirled my
finger around the swollen bud.  She pressed the ice bag lower down against
her sore vulva.

   "Do you want me to rub your whore clit?"

   Another sip.  "Yesss..." I obliged her, circling the hot flesh faster.

   Another sip.  "Who made you a whore, Karen?"

   "God did.  God made me a whore." Tears began to leak from beneath her
closed lids again, as my question reminded her of the deepest betrayal of
her short life, and one that she had never really accepted or understood.

   "And who taught you to be a good whore?"

   "You did.  You and...ohhh, ahhh, m-m-m-Moira."

   Another sip.  "Do you like being a whore, Karen?"

   "I...I don't..." The tears continued to flow and she nodded vaguely. 
Her head was spinning from the alcohol, the pot, the familiar mixture of
embarrassment, shame, pride, and unquenchable sexual arousal.  "AIE!" She
cried out and stiffened as I pinched her swollen clitty, then sagged back
against the couch and seemed to shrink into herself.  "Yes," she sobbed. 
"I like being a whore."

   "Oh, good girl," I crooned, and gave her another sip.  "Do you like
being fucked?" I continued to masturbate the weeping child as she twitched
and shivered under my fingers.  Her legs moved aimlessly, heels dragging
forward and back across the worn Astroturf.  My hand was covered with her
creamy secretions as her hips twitched at each flick of her button.  She
pressed the ice bag harder against her vulva while her other hand crept up
to squeeze and tug at her puffy nipples.

   "Nooo..." she breathed, "Don't fuck me, my cunt is too sore.  My whore
cunt, ow..."

   "But when it's not sore, do you like fucking?" As always, the word
spoken in my niece's ear sent a thrill of illicit pleasure through me, a
thrill that multiplied a thousandfold when her high voice responded. 
Though her body was rapidly becoming a woman's her voice was still a
child's, and to hear it eagerly confirming her degradation never failed to
take my breath away.

   "Oh, yes." Another sip.  She tossed her head back and forth, and her
eyes moved beneath her closed lids.  Her hair was coming loose from the
bun, and blond tendrils clung to her tearstained cheeks.  "Fuck me.  Fuck
me, Raymond, fuck my whore babycunt.  Fuck me Mister Al, fuck me fuck me
fuckmefuckmefuckmeeee..." Her knees came up and her body stiffened as her
climax approached, so I slid my fingers off her clit and up to toy with her
pubes again until, with a moan of frustration, she slowly relaxed and her
bare feet fell back to the floor.  Her toes curled and grabbed at the green
fibers as I resumed masturbating her.  She was panting again, writhing
slowly on the dirty sheet.

   "Eyes closed." Another sip.  "Do you like sucking on cocks?"

   "Yesss.  Yummy yummy cummy in my tummy..." she chuckled drunkenly and
belched.

   Another sip.  "How about your ass?  Do you like putting things up your
behind?"

   "I...no..." her brow wrinkled.  "It kinda hurts..." she said
plaintively. Another sip.  The bottle clinked against her teeth as I
upended it.  Despite the chill in the room Karen was perspiring again. 
Gooseflesh rose on her arms and her torso as sweat dried.  A sexual flush
spread across her chest, up to her neck and ears and down to the titties
she was mauling with increasing force.

   "But you'll do it, right?  If you're getting paid?" She nodded jerkily.
"Why?"

   "Because...because...ohhhh, because I'm a whoooooreahhhH!!" I pulled my
fingers away from her crotch as she squirmed.  I licked them, savoring the
spicy flavor as the naked child whined "I want...pleeeease...I want..." I
knew what she wanted perfectly well, and that's why I did nothing as she
kicked her legs and bounced in her seat.  She grabbed the ice bag with both
hands and pressed it hard into her pussy, rubbing it up and down to get
pressure against her sparking clitoris.  But then a shadow fell across her
face, and she opened her eyes.

   Beej was back.  He stood right in front of the naked sixth-grader, and
he'd brought friends with him just as we'd agreed.  One, a tall black kid
with his hair dyed bright crimson, was dressed sort of goth-y but the other
looked like a member of FFA.  He was short and broad, beardless and
rosy-cheeked with pale blue eyes.  He was wearing a seed cap, a polyfill
vest over a thermal underwear shirt, well-worn jeans and workboots.  Beej
was smirking while the other two looked like it was Christmas morning. 
Karen's sexual flush bloomed to a deep crimson blush as she found herself
unexpectedly exposed but she made no move to cover her naked body.  The
past year of sexual abuse and prostitution had not eliminated her modesty
but had completely broken her of the impulse to preserve it.  Thanks to my
dedicated work, she believed deep in her soul that sex was her God-given
purpose, and she worked hard to suppress anything contrary.  So rather than
cringe or hide, the naked sixth-grader spread her legs wide and essayed a
trembling smile.

   "You got it?" I asked Beej, and he nudged Farm Boy who was transfixed by
the naked female before him.  He shook himself and reached into a pocket,
coming out with a tiny plastic bag full of white powder.  I took it and
tapped out a generous pile onto the web of my thumb.  I held it under
Karen's nose.  "Sniff!" I commanded her, and even though she was still
trying to focus her eyes she obeyed.

   Karen hadn't had any coke since the beach party last year, but the
effect was immediate.  She stiffened, clenching her jaw and baring her
teeth as the drug hit her.  Sweat popped out on her forehead and her
nipples, already hard, crinkled and pointed straight up as she arched her
back against the sheet-covered cushions.  The ice bag slipped, unregarded,
to the floor as her heels scraped across the Astroturf.  I stood and
crossed to the grill for the bottle of vegetable oil I'd observed there
earlier.  That's all the time it took for Farm Boy to pull down his pants
and drop to his knees in front of Karen.  His tool was still small and
hairless but hard as hickory, pointing straight up and pressing against his
vest.  Karen was shaking her head and trying to shove the boy away,
babbling incoherently as she tried to protect her ravaged twat.

   "Wrong hole," I said, shouldering past Beej and putting a hand on Farm
Boy's shoulder.  "C'mon, Karen, you're still on the clock - and you just
got a nice tip," I chuckled.  I put my hands on her waist and rolled her
over, hoisting her up at the same time so she was on her knees on the
loveseat with her elbows propped on the back.  She was shivering from the
cold, from embarrassment, and mostly from the drug coursing through her
immature system.  Her fat labia, beet-red, covered with rash, and swollen,
pooched out from between her skinny legs.  I opened the oil and dribbled
some down between her pale ass cheeks.  She exclaimed at the cold liquid's
touch and then again as I used two fingers to probe at her asshole.  I
rubbed around and around until my digits were thoroughly lubed and then
slowly pressed in.

   "Aaaaagh!" Karen tossed her head and groaned as my fingers pushed past
the tight ring of her anus.  They slid smoothly in to the second knuckle; I
pulled back and then pushed again and this time didn't stop until my thumb
was wedged in her crack and my ring finger laid along her slit.  Karen
groaned and shuddered as I pumped and twisted my wrist until I felt her
sphincter start to loosen.

   I withdrew my fingers and checked them out - mostly clean - and passed
the oil to Farm Boy.  "Lube up," I told him, and he wasted no time pouring
it over his tool - and his vest, and his trousers - with trembling hands. I
had to help him a bit, showing him how to rest his knees on the edge of the
cushion between Karen's legs.  His friends guffawed nervously as he fumbled
with his slippery erection, and I helped by prying Karen's cheeks apart. 
Finally he had it lined up and it was my pleasure to watch revelation
spread across his face as he pushed home into Karen's hot, twitching ass.

   Karen threw back her head and gasped from the shock of penetration. 
"hhhhhegh, my ass!" she cried as Farm Boy pressed against her fleshy
cheeks, his face a picture of discovery as her rectum clenched and spasmed
around him.  This was pretty obviously his first time; he didn't really
thrust at all, just ground himself against the sixth-grader, and it wasn't
more than thirty seconds before his face contorted and he started trembling
all over.  He winced as he leaned back, withdrawing his now oversensitive
organ.  It popped free of my niece's reddened butthole and bounced upwards.
I saw no traces of semen; he was still too young.

   I stepped around the back of the loveseat so I could give Karen another
snort.  She bent and sniffed it up but then jerked convulsively and howled.
Startled, I looked over her shoulder to see that the black kid was already
in position and for once, the stereotype was true.  His cock looked as
thick as Karen's forearm and nearly as long.  He grabbed the preteen's hips
and pulled.  Karen's eyes bugged out and spittle flew from her mouth as the
enormous greased pole steadily disappeared up her back passage.  I don't
know how he managed - the head should have been poking up somewhere between
her shoulder blades - but within seconds his wiry black pubes were crushed
against Karen's cheeks.  With hardly a pause he backed off and brutally
shoved home again.  Karen was only twelve but her figure had developed
enough that her butt had some flesh on it, and her cheeks rippled and
bounced with each thrust.  "Ow, my ass!  Fuck my ass!  FUCK, my ASS!" Karen
cried in rhythm with his thrusts.  Her eyes were wild, rolling around in
her sockets.  She was tearing at the top of the loveseat with clawed hands.
She lurched forward with each thrust and then threw herself backwards to
keep from toppling off the edge.  She was being shoved so violently that
her firm breasts swung and jiggled beneath her.

   Karen's cries devolved to wordless yelps of pain as the boy drilled her
faster.  I realized she was protesting not the thickness and depth of her
anal penetration, but the sharp slaps of his heavy ballsack against her
tender vulva.  Her whole body flinched with each smack.  I gripped her
shoulders to help her keep her balance.  She arched her back sharply and
screeched until the breath left her.  The boy had gripped her around the
waist so tightly that her skin was bloodless where his fingers dug in. 
That accentuated the contrast between the pale white child and his
chocolate coloring.  His thumbs pressed at the base of her spine.  Her
reddened sphincter clung to the greasy dark shaft as he pulled out.  His
girth was such that it looked like she should have ripped in two.  A
sixth-grader without a year of prostitution under her belt probably would
have.

   This kid had a lot more staying power than his buddy.  He pounded the
preteen for a good ten minutes, until she was almost too exhausted to even
moan any more.  But finally he shoved himself against her as hard as he
could, grimacing and grunting as he ejaculated.  Karen squealed as each
spurt of hot jizz filled her bowels.  He finished and pulled out.  Karen
collapsed, flopping bonelessly onto her belly with her legs splayed and her
head hanging over the back of the loveseat.  She looked semiconscious at
best.  Sweat poured off her face and saliva drooled from her mouth.  I
stepped around the loveseat to inspect the damage.  Her anus gaped wide
open, displaying her twitching colon.  Semen and a little blood oozed out
and ran over her labia.  The chubby lips were glowing an angry, blotched
red and pink, so swollen they were squeezing her clitoris which was turning
purple.  I held my hand out and I could feel the heat off the ravaged skin
from inches away.

   Beej was looking at the wasted little girl like "hey, what about me?" so
there was nothing for it but more coke.  I emptied the baggie onto the back
of my hand and shoved it underneath Karen's nose.  "Hey!" I said, then
popped her lightly on the cheek when she didn't rouse.  She focused her
eyes with difficulty and plunged her nose into the little pile of white
flake.  Her ribs expanded as she snuffled.  In a few seconds her eyes
popped open and she raised her head, powder clinging to the upturned tip of
her nose and Cupid's bow.  She pushed herself up on her hands, arching her
back to stick her violated ass up in the air.  But she whined and twitched
away when Beej put his hands on her.

   Figuring that she would find another scrotum pummeling her labia
intolerable, I got Beej to drop his pants and sit down next to the child,
then I turned her around and maneuvered her sweaty form to squat over his
lap.  Her legs trembled and gave way so I had to hold her under her arms.
Beej held his cock pointed at her still-distended anus and I let her down
so that her ass was smoothly penetrated for the third time.  She fell back
against him with her head resting on his shoulder.  Her legs were spread
and her fiery cunt was split wide open.  She groaned and flopped around as
Beej humped up beneath her, churning her previous trick's residue into a
pink froth leaking into his pubes.  Her eyes were wide and wild and her
breath rasped in her throat.  Her hands groped clumsily at her chest until
each found a nipple, and a slow smile spread across her face as she began
pulling and twisting them cruelly.

   The evening seemed to be heading towards a satisfactory conclusion when
suddenly the kitchen door flew open to reveal Stanley.  He froze, staring
at the lurid sight of his foster-sister being enthusiastically ass-fucked
not six feet in front of him.

   Karen's eyes slowly swam into focus and her smile widened.  "Hi,
Staaaaanley," she lilted.  Her voice wobbled as Beej's cock pummeled her
diaphragm from below.  Her voice cracked as she raised it to a near-shout.
"I'M GETTING FUCKED AND MY BROTHER PAID FOR IT!" Heads turned behind
Stanley in the kitchen and people started crowding behind him to see.  "I'M
A WHORE!" Karen continued.  "I'M A WHORY WHORY WHORE AND I LOVEY LOVEY LOVE
IT AND MY BROTHER PAID FOR ME TO SUCK HIS FRIENDS!" Then she looked up
directly in his eyes and lowered her voice.  "Too bad Staaaaanley's a
chicken.  Too chicken to put his cock in me.  Bawk!  Bawk!" She started
laughing hysterically.

   I didn't expect that kind of sass from Karen - she was normally such a
shy, polite child.  One wouldn't have expected such a drastic personality
change from just a little cocaine.  And a half-pint of schnapps.  And a
couple of joints, some cheap red wine and about half a dozen bong hits. 
Well, ok, maybe someone paying more attention to something besides his own
stiff dick would've expected it, but I didn't.  And I sure wasn't ready for
Stanley's reaction.  I'd never seen a person's face actually turn purple
with rage before.  Stanley charged.  I tried to get between him and Karen
but he shoved me to the floor.  All I did was redirect his blind rush over
towards the barbecue setup, which ended up making things worse.

   The boys recognized the better part of valor and skedaddled at top
speed. Beej hoisted Karen off his cock with an audible "pop!" and dumped
her onto the low table.  He slammed the kitchen door with his dong still
flapping in the breeze.  I looked up in time to see Stanley swoop down on
Karen.  He had something in his hand that looked like a hairbrush.  His arm
rose and fell over Karen's supine body and her raucous, drunken laughter
became a shriek of pain.  It wasn't a hairbrush, it was the wire brush used
to scrape the grill clean and he landed three sharp blows in rapid
succession square on the preteen's bright-red vulva!  "AAAIEEE!" Karen
screamed and her whole body jerked and flopped like a gaffed tuna.

   "You...little...BITCH!" Stanley grated out, and raised his hand to
deliver another blow.  I was on my feet and I grabbed his arm.  He was
running on booze and adrenaline - he smelled like a distillery.  We
struggled almost motionless for seconds, then he shrugged me off but
instead of striking the bawling little girl again he reversed the brush and
in one motion jammed the full length of the brush's wooden handle into her
cunt.

   Karen jerked again from the brutal penetration and her mouth opened in a
silent scream.  She had already scratched open the rash on her labia
earlier in the evening but now blood oozed from dozens of tiny pinpricks on
the raw, swollen flesh.  Her tumescent clitoris hadn't been spared; it was
bent to one side and still obscenely enlarged and now bloodied.  Karen
groped at her crotch, wincing as her fingers brushed over her brutalized
vulva, but then her hands found the brush sticking out of her.  She grasped
it, tentatively pulling.  It slid partway out with a loud slurping sound,
accompanied by a fresh surge of thick cunt cream.  Karen spread her legs
wide and drew up her knees and, her cry becoming a long, drawn-out moan,
forced the brush back in until the bristles dug into her reddened perineum.

   I'd seen pain and pleasure meld before in the child's confused brain,
but this was almost beyond belief.  I was breathless myself, watching the
preteen fuck the brush handle in and out as she gasped and shook in
agonized sexual delirium.  "Look at meeee, Stanley!" she demanded.  "Look
at my hot babycunt!  Everyone can fuck my babycunt, Stanley, everyone but
YOU!" And she dissolved into wild, gasping laughter as her blood-tinted
lubrication puddled on the table beneath her bouncing ass.

   Stanley gaped at his foster-sister in disbelief for a frozen second,
then with an incoherent yell he grabbed up another implement from the
barbecue.  I hesitated for just too long.  Stanley stooped over Karen's
naked, writhing form and grabbed one of her cherry-sized nipples.  He
pulled so hard he her upper body off the table, stretching her slight
breast to the limit, and drawing a choked scream from her.  Her scream cut
off as shock and agony stole her voice.  Stanley shoved a steel shish kebab
skewer into the fatty tissue surrounding the areola.  The flesh of her
preteen titty bulged on the opposite side and then the point broke through.
As the girl gaped up in horrified disbelief Stanley grabbed her other
nipple, twisted it in the opposite direction and pierced it in the same
way.

   Karen fell back on the table, her eyes fixed on the thick steel needle
pushed through her breasts.  Blood began to drip from the four spots where
metal pierced skin; each hole was pulled open by the tension of her titties
twisted in opposite directions.  For a second the only sound in the room
was our harsh breathing.  Then Karen threw back her head and howled.  At
the same time her pussy spasmed so strongly that the grill scraper popped
out of her and thunked on to the floor.  Her arms and legs shot out, heels
thumping against the table and hands clawing in the air as she twisted
violently on her back.  A fresh surge of juice squirted out of her preteen
vagina and that was when I realized she was in the throes of climax.

   "Oh, oh, nuh, nuuuh, noooo, nooooOOOH JEEZ OH JEEZ OH JEEZ!" Karen
screamed and moaned and flopped around on the table, her body completely
out of control as wave upon wave of orgasmic spasms shook her.  Before long
her voice went hoarse and then almost silent as she continued to heave and
gasp.  Her hands probed at her violated titties, tracing the cold metal
spike that pierced them.  She wiggled it slightly, then pulled harder and
the pain set off another assault of unendurable pleasure.  Her trembling
hands smeared the small trails of blood into a thin sheen covering her
chest like a grotesque bikini top.

   I sat, dumbfounded, watching my preteen niece helpless in the grip of
her body's sexual overload.  My cock was burning like it would burst out of
my jeans.  I was seeing some of my darkest fantasies come to life, and it
took my breath away.  I had to grab myself through my pants and squeeze my
nuts until the pain overwhelmed the desire to cum.

   Stanley, on the other hand, looked shamed and horrified at what he'd
done.  He backed away until he was pressing against the sliding glass door
that looked out on the backyard and then slid down until he was sitting
with his knees pressed to his chin and his hands covering his ears, as if
he was trying to block out the sounds of Karen's seemingly-endless orgasm.

   Finally, Karen's frantic writhing calmed.  She lay exhausted on the
table in a puddle of her adolescent cunt cream, her arms and legs hanging
limply off the edge, occasionally twitching in a random aftershock.  The
skewer piercing her titties rose and fell with her shaky breaths.  She kept
her legs spread wide and her barely furred cunt split open; it was the most
comfortable position to avoid the pain of friction against her raw,
bloodied vulva.  Except for a breathy "ooooooh" on each exhale, she was
quiet.

   In the silence I became aware of a scratching sound coming from behind
Stanley.  There was a large dog pawing at the glass door, presumably the
one I'd heard barking when we arrived.  Stanley jerked as if rousing from a
nightmare, twisted around to see.  "Good boy, Runcible," he mumbled.  "Good
boy." He stretched up a shaky hand and pulled the door open long enough to
let the animal enter, along with a blast of cold air.  The dog whined and
nuzzled Stanley's face and he responded by hugging it around the belly.  It
was a fat, barrel-chested male with a longish white and brown coat.  His
belly, legs, and jowls were matted with dirty ice.  He looked like he had
some Saint Bernard in him, some Lab, maybe some bull terrier - just a big,
sloppy, lovable mutt.

   The dog's tail thumped against the glass, adding to a collection of
muddy smudges.  Stanley buried his face in the animal's broad back while it
looked around with bright, interested eyes and sniffed the cold air.  With
a soft whine he broke away from Stanley and trotted over to where I sat on
the floor.  After a perfunctory sniff he turned to Karen.  He sniffed,
nudged, and then licked at her bare foot.  Karen opened her eyes and slowly
raised her head.  Her face brightened and she opened her mouth.  She had to
clear her throat twice before managing to croak out "Good dog," Runcible,
or so I assumed was his name, lifted his head and stepped forward to
investigate the preteen's face.  Karen recoiled a bit from his rough tongue
but she smiled.  Laying prostrate on the low table, the dog's head was
above hers.  She raised one hand to pat him, but that was a mistake. 
Runcible sidled closer and in doing so brushed against the end of the
skewer still pinioning Karen's sensitive breasts.  She jerked and yipped at
the pain and, startled, the dog jumped back.  He caught the scent of
Karen's blood and sniffed at her damaged breasts.  Then he started licking.
Karen jerked and moaned at each pass of his rough tongue.  Her titties and
the skewer piercing them jiggled, causing more blood to ooze.  Finally, she
got enough coordination to push the dog's head away, but he continued
sniffing down the length of her bare, skinny body and she was too weak to
stop him when he arrived at her violated cunt.

   Karen moaned over and over as the dog's tongue scraped away at her
blood-spotted vulva.  "Nooooo, nooooo, my babycunt, nooooo, you're
huuuurting..." He pushed his snout between her gaping inner labia,
snuffling at the scent of her secretions.  The preteen didn't have enough
strength left to stop him.  Nor could she have seen, even if her eyes were
open, the effect her aromatic cunt was having on the dog.  I could, and
common sense told me I should intervene before things got out of hand.

   Common sense told me that but my dick disagreed, and while they were
arguing it out Runcible acted.  He hopped up over Karen's splayed legs so
that his front paws were planted on the table on either side of her chest,
just below where her breasts were skewered.  Karen yipped in surprise as
his furry underbelly rubbed over her.  She tried to wiggle away but there
was nowhere to go.  She was trapped.  Runcible dropped his massive head to
nuzzle between her breasts, pushing the skewer painfully from side to side.
His tail was wagging madly as he started a hunching motion.  Karen bent her
knees and tried to use her feet to push the dog off of her, but in doing so
she exposed her ravaged cunny.  A second was all it took.  I saw a flash of
pink wobbling under Runcible's powerful hindquarters, then he surged
forward and Karen yowled.  The dog was fucking her.

   "No!  Oh God, help!  Help!  Oh God, my babycunt, he's killing me, mommy,
help, God, oh God!" Karen tried to scream but her throat was too raw to get
much volume.  Runcible growled and slobber dripped from his jowls into the
terrified girl's gaping mouth.  His cock made a slurping sound as it
plunged over and over into her.  Muddy water melted off his fur and fouled
her pale skin.  Her screams tailed off to a steady, wordless moan,
punctuated as each thrust of the dog's swelling penis hit her immature
cervix and compressed her diaphragm.  I'd never heard her make a noise
quite like it and I couldn't tell if it was pain or pleasure or both.

   Stanley had gotten shakily to his feet and came over to look down at his
little sister.  He had a strange, frozen expression on his face.  Runcible
looked up at him briefly as he continued battering the poor child's cunt
and I almost had to laugh because the dog's expression was a perfect "Am I
doing it right?"

   Karen looked up at her big brother.  Her eyes were wet with tears and
dog slobber ran off her cheeks.  "Stanley," she gasped out.  "Please - make
him stop.  It hurts my babycunt, Stanley, please."

   "It hurts?" Stanley asked.  Then he leaned over and screamed right in
her face.  "But you're a WHORE!  You wanted to show EVERYONE what a whore
you are!  So let's show them!" He turned and yanked open the door to the
kitchen and before I could react he called out, urging everyone to come in
and see "Runcible's private party".

   "Nooo, don't," Karen begged, but to no avail.  In seconds people were
crowding into the small room.  Their faces reflected shock at the sight of
a naked girl being fucked by the house dog.  Karen's body was almost
completely covered by the dog and it was impossible to guess at her real
age.  She was shocked speechless at being discovered in this condition. 
Despite everything, I chuckled at the naked humiliation blazing from the
sixth-grader's face.  She did the only thing she could think to do - she
covered her face with both hands.  First one phone, then another and
another came out, and before long half a dozen people were taking snaps and
video of the dog vigorously humping away.  Stanley's mood had shifted to
frenzied good humor and Karen's face wasn't visible so no one could tell
the girl was less than willing.  Before long everyone was laughing and
having a great time enjoying the freak show Stanley had arranged.

   Then the wet, sloppy sound of the dog's tool plunging in and out of the
preteen's vagina changed to include a blunted slap with each thrust, and
the tenor of Karen's grunts altered with it.  She began to whine behind her
pressing hands as the dog began humping more violently.  "OK, everyone,
back to the party," Stanley commanded, and started shoving the crowd back
out into the kitchen.  He had hardly closed the door when Runcible gave an
extra hard thrust and Karen's breath whistled out of her.  Her legs kicked
out and her hands flailed in the air, revealing a face stretched in agony.
Runcible froze, quivering and whining.  I peered around his powerful
haunches to confirm my suspicion: the dog had knotted in my twelve-year-old
niece.  Her cunt was unbelievably stretched - his bulb was nearly the size
of a baseball.  Her inner lips were a thin ring, completely pale from the
pressure.  Her fat, rash-covered outer labia bulged around them, blood
still oozing from the tiny pricks inflicted by the grill scraper.  Her
clitoris was nearly invisible, just a tiny purple nub peeking out at the
top.

   This assault was too much; Karen's arms and legs dropped to the floor.
Her face, which had been a mask of terror, relaxed.  Her eyes went blank.
She was going away, away to wherever she went whenever the reality of her
life as child prostitute became overwhelming.  Her body continued
responding, though, jerking and twitching as the dog ejaculated into her.
Her belly began to bulge as the dog's knot functioned as nature intended,
sealing his sperm inside her.  She looked almost peaceful as Runcible,
apparently finished, began licking her face.

   The dog awkwardly hopped down off the table, stepping over so that his
still-engorged organ was pointing backwards between his back legs.  He
tried to walk off but the knot was still fully-inflated.  Karen was too
heavy to drag so all that happened was her cunt bulged outwards painfully
until Runcible relaxed.  Thus uncovered, Karen's naked body was quite a
mess.  Her chest and stomach was streaked with mud and dirty water from the
dog's fur.  Her face was splashed with slobber.  Her titties had stopped
bleeding and what the dog hadn't licked up was clotting to rust smears. 
Her pubes were matted with blood and girl-cum and her monstrously-distended
cunny was brick-red.  Her ribs expanded and her belly hollowed as she
breathed slowly and deeply.  She grimaced each time Runcible tried to tug
himself loose.

   Her eyes slowly focused as Stanley leaned down over her.  "So, you're a
whore and I'm a chicken, huh?  Well, are you brave enough for everyone to
know you fuck dogs?"

   "No," Karen whispered.  "I never...not before..."

   "You're a dog-fucking whore!" Stanley spat in her face.  "You fuck dogs,
and by morning pictures of you fucking my dog will be all over the
internet! That's too good not to share, don't you think?" He laughed
evilly.

   "No, Stanley, please..." Karen started to cry.

   "Oh, don't worry.  No one will know who you are, and you kept your face
covered up.  But if you EVER," and he put himself nose-to-nose with the
whimpering little girl, "EVER call me a chicken again, I'll make sure that
Rob and Jenny get a gift-wrapped DVD of their pride and joy fucking a dog.
I bet they'd be so proud of their little girl, don't you?"

   "No, please, I promise," Karen blubbered, and I finally realized I had
to take a hand.  Even the threat of distributing video of Karen's
activities was unacceptable.

   I got to my feet stiffly.  "Now, that's no good, Stanley.  If you rat
Karen out like that you're ratting yourself out, too.  You think no one
will recognize your dog?"

   Stanley tried to backpedal.  "He's not my dog, just a neighborhood mutt.
Everyone feeds him."

   "Well, what about this room?  Look, if it comes out it'll come back on
you sooner or later..." As we were talking, the dog finally managed to
disengage from Karen with a loud wet "slish".  She moaned again as a river
of runny canine semen poured out of her gaping hole.  She rolled off the
table onto her elbows and knees and stayed there, head drooping.  Her hair
had come out of its bun and covered her face.  She pushed herself up onto
her hands and stayed, arms and legs trembling, as dog cum plopped out of
her onto the floor.  She got painfully to her feet, gasping as the steel
skewer still piercing her breasts shifted downwards and tugged at her
wounds.  She gazed down at her filthy, tangled hair, at her naked body,
covered with dirt, mud, and blood, at her bruised and pierced titties, at
her swollen, bloody, stretched cunny, at the semen running down her legs
and puddling between her feet.  Then, with a despairing cry, the
sixth-grader stumbled to the sliding glass door and ran naked into the
sub-freezing night.
   To be continued...