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 and http://www.mrdouble.com/htm/authors/rufusfugit.htm. New stories are posted on the latter site first. Membership has its privileges. 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 13 (M/g, cons, inc, prost, oral, mast, tg, blasph) by Rufus Fugit The pounding on the hotel room door startled me and it caught Stanley right as he shot off. His body jerked and semen arced high, splatting onto his prominent nose, his mouth and weak chin, into his hair and across one ear to paint a pearly trail on the dark wooden headboard. His groan turned into a squeak of surprise but even so he couldn't tear his eyes off the television. I had just finished explaining to Stanley why he had to be nice to Karen, his foster sister and my niece - and more importantly, why he had to keep quiet about the twelve-year-old's unusual vocation. I'd expected the college freshman to be startled when he asked me to get a prostitute for his end-of-semester party and I'd shown up with his sixth-grade foster sister wearing garish makeup - and not wearing panties. But I'd expected him to enjoy being convinced that Karen really was a whore. Goodness knows I'd enjoyed convincing Karen, starting from the day she'd accidentally seen me eating her younger sister's tasty hairless little pussy and spunking on her cherubic face. She'd been an innocent eleven-year-old, quite understandably horrified by what she saw, Renee's protestations that it had been consensual - and fun - notwithstanding. My original goal had only been to guarantee Karen's silence by making her a party to the guilty secret rather than just an observer. But from the very first time I brought her to orgasm, tied naked to a chair in her little sister's bedroom, a vibrating electric toothbrush shoved roughly against her bald, dripping quim, I knew she was destined for much greater things. I spent months after that forcing her into ever more extreme sexual situations, but never found a limit she couldn't be cajoled, prodded, or coerced beyond. And for her part, the preteen kept finding even greater depths of sexual exhaustion to plumb. So now, over a year later, Karen maintained a vigorous, uh, social schedule and as a result had just broken five figures in the bank account I'd opened for her. Stanley's party should have been a fun if minor addition to both. But Stanley hadn't gone along with the program. When Karen had drunkenly offered her naked, jizz-smeared body to him he'd rejected her most cruelly. And later, he'd used his cellphone to capture some images that Jenny and Rob, Karen's parents, would find rather upsetting. Since the images involved their beautiful, blond, obedient, pious daughter and a large dog of unknown provenance I worried that I would find their reaction at least equally upsetting. If not terminal. I needed to be certain that Stanley could be trusted to delete the pictures and not mention their existence. So I was explaining this to him with the help of the visual aid now looping on the tv, a hastily-edited piece of video that Renee had captured secretly on her camera when she'd followed Stanley from the jacuzzi up to his hotel room earlier today. What the video showed was a naked fourth-grader prone on the hotel bed. Her head was turned to the side so Stanley couldn't see her face but the camera caught the expression of pain and fear as he leaned over her, swim trunks around his ankles, erect cock in hand, trying to get the right angle to force the unlubricated shaft deeper into the ten-year-old's rectum. What the video didn't show was the fifteen minutes Renee had spent artlessly attempting to seduce her college-aged foster brother to get to this point, finally attacking his oblivious prudishness by coming out of the bathroom stark naked and grabbing at the startled young man's cock through the damp nylon of his swimsuit. With the soundtrack removed, the video didn't capture her telling Stanley how much she liked "putting things in my butt", it didn't show how her coos of pleasure and entreaties to "push harder!" completely belied her - somewhat theatrical, I thought - tortured expression. Not that it mattered. Even if the original footage was delivered to the cops, it was still evidence of a heinous crime and I deeply admired Renee's inspiration and quick thinking in getting it. It showed the lengths she was willing to go to protect her big sister. Thinking of it made my heart swell with tenderness towards my preteen lover. So now Stanley understood he was implicated and had something to lose. It was ironic, he was in the same position now that Karen had found herself in a year and a half ago, and for pretty much the same reason - to save my butt. I didn't think Stanley would become a whore, too, like his little sister - he didn't have the smarts, he didn't have the mental toughness, and he sure didn't have the incredibly precocious and uncontrollable sexual responsiveness - but it was important to get his willing, if not enthusiastic, silence. I was showing him the stick. The carrot, I figured, would come when Karen and Renee returned from their errand. I'd wanted time with Stanley without distractions so, almost as an afterthought, I'd suggested Renee take Karen whoring to the truckstop across the highway. It seemed like a good way to get her the girls out of our hair for awhile and, heck, after the events of the past few days, somebody owed me a good steak dinner. The knock was unexpected, though; Renee had a room key, and this didn't sound like housekeeping. Even as Stanley shuddered and sprayed more jizz onto himself I yanked the patch cord connecting my laptop to the tv and removed the memory stick. I had it in my fingers ready to break as I moved to open the door. A quick glance through the peephole showed that it was the girls. I opened the door and that's when I realized that their evening had gone quite a bit less than optimally. Renee pushed her sister over the threshold and then slammed the door shut with her back against it. Her turtleneck and jeans were muddy, her ponytail was in lopsided disarray,her face was sweaty and as I bent to look in her hazel eyes, I saw tear tracks dried on her cheeks. There was some swelling and a small abrasion on her left cheekbone. A heavy crust of dried blood limned her nostrils, with more on her lush little Cupid's bow and upper lip. Before I could say a word, though, there was a thump behind me. I whirled. Karen had fallen to her knees on the plush carpet. With a groan she toppled forward onto her face, splaying her skinny legs wide. Her blonde hair was a tangled, clumped mess around her head. She was wearing Renee's jacket. It was absurdly too short, but it was more than she had left the hotel in. On the other hand her flip-flops, which she had been wearing when she left - them, and pretty much nothing else - were missing. And then I really looked at the twelve-year-old's prone body. The jacket stopped just short of the dimples at the base of her spine. Every inch of skin I could see - her palms and cuffed wrists, the back of her neck, her quivering buttcheeks, and sweep of her long, shapely legs, even the soles of her feet - was filthy, covered with mud, grease, road grime and worse. There were scrapes and abrasions on her soles and her calves and shins. One or two were still bleeding a bit but the rest had clotted, adding dark red accents to the uneven brown and black. My eyes traveled up to the juncture of her thighs and I felt the pit of my stomach drop. "Oh shit," I breathed as I knelt and grabbed one skinny shoulder to roll Karen gently onto her back. She moaned and her head lolled to the side as I beheld the bloody mess between her legs. The jacket, her sole garment, fell back off her shoulders, exposing the pink leather dog collar around her neck. The chainlink leash lay across her taut upthrust belly as she lay on her cuffed hands. Her abdomen, stomach, her pert little titties - barely mounded off her chest when she lay like this - her neck and her face - were all just as dirty as her legs, and festooned with trails and smears of dried semen besides. The only part of the sixth-grader's entire body not similarly befouled were her smooth labia. They were swollen and red from friction, yes, and glistening with her own secretions, but clear of dirt. And that made the blood leaking steadily from her slit and now pooling on the carpet horribly, hideously clear. I leaned over to look more closely, and the source of the blood revealed itself. Karen's clitoris, already outsized for a child her age, was swollen far beyond what I'd ever seen before. It strained from her undeveloped labia. It was mottled dark red and a sickly bruised purple, standing out and bent to one side, pulsing with her rapid heartbeat. And it was cruelly torn from almost the tip down its underside to where it merged with the slick folds of her inner lips. It throbbed and a trickle of bright red blood pulsed in time. "Fucking hell, what happened?" I asked Renee, and getting no response looked over my shoulder at her. The younger girl had her back to the door and was slowly sliding down into a squat. She was twisting her ragged ponytail in both hands. Her knuckles were white with tension beneath the dark brown tangles. Her round face was blank, but her chin was quivering and tears were coursing silently down her cheeks. She winced as her butt touched the rug. Apparently things hadn't gone as easily as I'd assumed they would. "Renee?" I asked again, but there was no response from the ten-year-old except for shaking her head slowly from side to side. Then she began whimpering quietly and her whole body began to shiver. She was at the brink of collapse, and that was more frightening to me than anything. I'd known Renee for more than half of her short life. In that time I'd seen her confused, I'd seen her sullen, I'd seen her angry and frustrated. I'd never seen her lose it the way every other child I'd ever known did. I'd never seen her bawl in the pure, deep and simple despair of childhood and the thought that I might be about to shook me to the core. "Renee!" I snapped, more harshly than I'd intended to. The fourth-grader's gray eyes locked to mine. "Get Karen's kit, and go in the bathroom and start the tub. Get undressed and get in. I'll bring Karen in a minute." Automatically, she obeyed. I heaved a silent sigh of relief as the little girl got painfully to her feet and, stumbling slightly, moved to obey me. She stepped out of her untied boots and shed the rest of her clothing before reaching the bathroom. Her strapon hit the carpet with a muffled thump. I noticed her panties were gone. Too bad, I thought absently, she'd been wearing a pair I'd bought her, one of my favorites. Stanley had stood up and was looming over me now, peering down at Karen. I'd never before seen someone actually wringing their hands from anxiety. "Stanley!" I used the same tone as I just had with Renee. "Jesus. Put your cock away, man, and get me the red shaving kit from my suitcase. And wipe the jizz off your face, will you?" He complied, and then hovered uselessly as I opened the kit and withdrew some baby wipes, gauze pads, and a small bottle of rubbing alcohol. I used the wipes to carefully clean Karen's mound, gently but firmly rubbing away the dirt and dried blood clotted in her sparse, downy pubes, before moving down to her labia and thighs. As I worked I blotted the oozing blood with clean gauze. Karen made small sounds of discomfort as I touched her slit and parted the swollen inner lips. She raised her head off the carpet, looking down at herself. "Please," she whispered. "My babycunt. It hurts, help me..." "I will, sweetie," I answered. I opened a fresh sterile gauze pad and used it to gently pinch the very tip of the twelve-year-old's swollen clitoris and lift it up and away from her slit. I bit back a curse at the sight of the ragged tear in the moist, engorged tissues. "My babycunt. Help my babycunt, help me..." Karen continued to beg softly, plaintively. I tried to keep from pulling too hard on her clitoris as she twisted her torso weakly, trying to find a more comfortable position atop her cuffed hands. Her vagina fluttered open and closed, still gleaming with lubrication despite the trauma. Well, no point dragging the next part out. I opened another gauze pad and uncapped the alcohol. The sharp, familiar smell wafted up as I saturated the pad. Then in a single motion I swung astride Karen in a sort of reverse cowboy and stuffed the pad into her slit, pushing up to press against her wounded pleasure organ. "AIIIEEE!" Karen shrieked with what breath she had and her body arched and squirmed like a gaffed tuna, but I had her pinned so she couldn't twist away. I heard her teeth click together behind me and I swear I could feel the ridges of her abs taut against my butt. As she gasped and shuddered, another familiar smell rose from her bare crotch to contend with the rubbing alcohol. It was the smell of aroused adolescent female, and as it filled my nostrils my fingers were further dampened not with alcohol but with hot, thick cunt cream. Despite her exhaustion and pain, the twelve-year-old was orgasming beneath my hand. No, not despite the pain, I realized: because of it. I rolled off Karen's slender, writhing body, keeping the gauze firmly in place. As Stanley looked on in amazement and I worked awkwardly cross-handed to get my keys out of my pocket so I could unlock the handcuffs, Karen drew her coltish legs up and apart. They trembled and her feet kicked weakly in time with her sighs. "Ohhhhhhh, God. Ohhhhhh, God. God, god, godddddd..." she trailed off as the climax swept over her. Once I had the cuffs off I gently took one hand and placed it between her legs, urging her to hold the pad in place. Spots of blood were already seeping through but with pressure the flow was almost stanched. Then I gently lifted Karen to her feet. To my surprise Stanley actually made himself useful and let her lean on him as together we limped towards the bathroom. The tub was steaming and nearly full. Renee sat naked against the fixtures, arms wrapped tight around her knees, pulling them hard against her tiny preadolescent boobies, trying to make herself as small as possible. Her eyes were shadowed and she looked miserable. Once I was sure Stanley had a firm grip on the older girl I knelt and put my face close to Renee's. She wouldn't meet my eyes at first until I cradled and lifted her chin gently in my palm. "Are you OK, sweetie? Do you hurt anywhere?" The ten-year-old's bare shoulders twitched but she didn't answer. Oh dear, worse and worse. "We're going to help Karen first, OK? We have to clean her cuts and..." I faltered. I had no idea what we were going to do about the ragged tear in her clitty. "We'll clean her up, and then I'll help you, OK?" I got a slow nod but no change in the preteen's haunted expression. Karen stared dully at the steaming tub and her naked little sister as if she'd never seen either before, so I simply picked her up but as I started to lower her into the tub, Renee forestalled me with a silent finger pointed at Karen's backside. Afraid of seeing some new injury I was relieved that all I saw was the curl of the wireless vibrator's antenna poking out of her pucker. In all the excitement I'd forgotten about it. With it brought to my attention I could hear the faint buzzing. Good quality Japanese construction. "It's OK, it's waterproof," I said and continued to gently lay Karen into the steaming water. Karen hissed and thrashed weakly as the hot water closed over heels, toes, butt, her damaged adolescent cunny. The water was instantly filthy. Grit, dirt, black grease, and little pills of clotted spunk drifted away from her tangled hair and abused body. Renee moved around to sit behind Karen and cradled her blond head against her nascent preteen breasts, wrapping her sturdy thighs around her big sister's hips. I opened the drain and let the water run and went to work. Karen moaned weakly and occasionally twitched as I worked but for the most part she seemed barely conscious. Her hand was still pressed into her cunt, holding the now-sodden gauze in place. It took four applications of shampoo to get her hair clean, and nearly forty-five minutes for her body. Finally her skin was clean and pink from the heat of the steamy bathroom. Her soles, palms, pads of fingers and toes were thoroughly prunified. There was a cartoonishly black ring of grime at the tub's waterline. All of the facecloths and hand towels - four each - were sopping and soiled on the tile floor. Through it all Renee was a mute and mostly still pillow and Stanley fluttered ineffectually over my shoulder. I finally got him to help me wrap Karen in a towel. She swooned when I stood her on her feet but Stanley walked her into the next room. I called to him to put her in the bed and not let her start masturbating. With the whore taken care of for the moment I turned to my lover. Alone now in the tub with the water draining, the fourth-grader had returned to her huddled position. Her smooth, chubby cunt, shiny from the water, bulged between her thighs. She still wouldn't meet my eyes, not even while I gently scrubbed the dried blood from under her nose. I tilted her head back and examined up her nostrils. Just a playground bloody nose, nothing broken, no big deal. That couldn't be what had put her in this state. But then I saw her soft features twist in pain as she shifted her seat. "What else hurts, Renee?" I asked. She started to shake her head but I caught her chin firmly in my hand. "What else?" I demanded. "You have to tell me, sweetie, so I can make sure you're all right." Tears welled in her hazel eyes again. "My bottom," she barely whispered. Oh damn. "It's OK, it's all right," I murmured, and gently guided the compact ten-year-old to get on her hands and knees. Her thick brown hair tumbled over her left shoulder and fanned in the water like seaweed. Despite the harrowing situation I couldn't help admire the gentle sweep of her back. My penis stirred inside my jeans - uncomfortable since they were by now pretty thoroughly soaked. Renee was all girl, the soft, smooth skin in no way marred by the slight definition her triceps and trapezius muscles had gained. But now as I helped her into position and stroked her fine, damp skin, those muscles were stiff with tension. I gently pried apart Renee's round ass cheeks. Nestled between the two pillows of slightly olive skin, her sphincter was swollen and a little distended. The tender flesh was scraped at about seven o'clock. It was clear she had been roughly used and I felt anger boiling up in my chest at the thought of someone treating my preteen lover so. I had to fight to keep my voice calm but it still came out rough and shaky. "Who did this, Renee? Who?" Silence. The child hung her head and refused to speak. "Please, sweetie. I'm not mad. But you have to tell me." Nothing. So I just did what I could, using my little finger to penetrate her as gently as possible. My other hand rested at the base of her spine and I could feel her quivering like a faun ready to bolt. Her rectum was hot and tight, dry, not greasy inside. I rotated my finger then withdrew, examining it for signs of blood or semen. There were none. So I massaged the outside and the rim of her pucker, first with a little Neosporin and then with some topical anesthetic. She sighed at my gentle touch, then her legs trembled and gave way and I had to catch her with my arm around her bare belly to keep her from a face-plant against the dirty fiberglass of the tub. I stood up awkwardly with Renee's naked ass pressed against my crotch and her upper body bent forward. As I shifted my grip so one arm was just beneath her pre-breasts, her shoulders began to shake. Her head was down and her wet hair flopped over her face as she cried full out. I took a step back, my heel skidded on a towel and I almost fell. I ended up thumping down pretty hard on the toilet seat. My arms were full of crying, wet, naked ten-year-old. I managed to shift her around so that she was facing me with her legs spread. She grabbed me around the shoulders and squeezed as hard as she could, which thanks to several months of martial arts classes was pretty hard. The child pressed her bare body against mine like a limpet. Her head fit beneath my chin with her face pressed into my collarbone. I held Renee and stroked her gently and murmured nonsense sounds of comfort into her ear as she sobbed. My heart broke at her distress, still the motion and the weight and the heat of her nakedness pressed against me had the customary effect, and I had to grope between us to relieve the pressure of my growing cock against the binding and uncomfortably wet denim of my pants. Gradually her sobs quieted and I became more aware of the delicious sensation of her chubby, bald labia spread apart by my erection pressing against my briefs. I took her shoulders in my hands and gently moved her back, and this time she met my eyes. Hers were red-rimmed but clear. Her skin was so soft, her muscles sliding smoothly beneath it. "Let's go in the other room and sit on the bed now, OK? Do you think you can tell me what happened?" The ten-year-old nodded reluctantly, but she was looking straight at me when she did. She slid back and off my lap and as I stood, she took my hand and led me, walking naked without shame or concern. Renee sat down on the corner of one of the double beds. She casually reached out to snag her hairbrush from the nightstand and turned her bare back to me, plainly wanting me to brush out her hair. I, however, couldn't be quite so blase about the sight on the other bed. Karen was naked on her back atop the rumpled spread where Stanley had most recently been reclining. Her legs were splayed frog-like, flat on the bed with her knees bent. Her ankles were slowly flexing in turn and her pelvis erratically rotating. Stanley sat on one hip at the head of the bed. He had his left hand clamped over the preteen's right wrist, holding the arm away from her body. With his right hand he cradled Karen's head, holding it turned towards him as he slowly pistoned his cock in and out of her mouth. Stanley's eyes were closed but they flew opened when I said, "For fuck's sake, man, can't you at least let her get a night's sleep first?" He looked up at me, an uncertain half-smile pulling at his face, then rolled his eyes back as Karen exercised her talent. "Grrnah," he said, or something like that. "Fuuuuuck, man, she grabbed ME. I didn't want to hurt her or..." he trailed off. There was a glint of blue from beneath Karen's drooping eyelids as she sucked noisily, sloppily, spit drooling out of the side of her mouth and down her chin. She grunted deep in her throat while at the same time making high-pitched little snorts through her nose. I could see her throat working in the bedside lamplight as she craned her neck forward to fit more of Stanley's tool into her mouth. She was still struggling to free the hand Stanley held pinned over her head but her face was relaxed and, around her mouthful of hot manflesh it looked like a smile was tugging at the corner of her lips. "That's Ôcause she's a whore, Stanley!" Renee suddenly piped up. I looked down to see she was leaning forward, looking avidly, almost angrily at her big sister fellating their foster brother. "She's such a whory whore she has to fuck all the time! You saw her, she'll even fuck a dog! Dog-fucking whore!" Karen's whole body jerked with each repetition of the epithet but her face remained calm. She picked up her rhythm and the little high-pitched snorts were louder and faster. "You like being a whore, don't you, Karen?" I chimed in. She shuddered again and, almost crying, "Umm hmm!" forced itself out of her nose. "Tell her, Stanley," I urged the gawky young man. "Tell her, she loves to hear it." "Ohhh, you're a whore," Stanley started, sounding uncertain but gathering steam as Karen sucked harder and faster on his throbbing cock. "You're a whore, I didn't know, I'm sorry, you suck it so good, so gooood, I love you Karen suck my cock suck it suck it suck itARGH!" And with that he stiffened and pushed forward. A ring of white foam appeared at the juncture of lips and penis. Karen swallowed audibly but sperm still oozed from the corner of her mouth. Her eyes opened and she looked up worshipfully at the man filling her mouth with hot cum. Stanley strained and jerked; I imagined Karen's well-trained agile tongue was teaching him some things. Finally, gritting out a final "Whoooooooore..." he fell back onto the bed, but Karen craned her neck further to keep them connected, nursing gently as his cock wilted in her mouth. I realized I'd been holding my breath and I made myself relax, trying to will the tension out of my arms as I gently began brushing out Renee's wet hair. "That was fun to watch," I said quietly, "but you were going to tell me what happened, right?" At first I thought she wouldn't, but finally Renee turned to sit cross-legged on the bed facing me. I tried not to get distracted by the sight of one bare heel pressing against her hairless labia, but once she got started that wasn't a problem. Renee spoke in a low, flat voice, describing Karen's public doggy show and then turning tricks in the truckstop's back room. Her voice got even lower when she described how she let herself be taken in by the man named Denny. How he seemed friendly, and didn't laugh at her strapon when he discovered it; how she let him fondle her bare cunny; and then how things quickly got away from her. How she ended up getting raped anally right next to Karen; how Karen screamed when the splinter of wood was driven deep into her clit; and then how Renee saw a chance to escape when the two rapists decided to trade victims. "And I went to do the stomp-kick sensei taught us but my other foot slipped and instead of landing on Denny's ribs I landed on his throat and I...I hurt him..." she faltered. "You killed him." Karen's voice shattered the moment. I had been almost hypnotized by the younger girl's recitation; the two of use were sitting nose-to-nose now and I was looking deep into her eyes. She flinched at her big sister's voice. But Karen wasn't accusatory or angry. "She killed him," she repeated. "Something in his neck kind of cracked and then he couldn't get his breath and he started flopping around. She had to do it, so that she could save me. And she saved me. She made him stop hurting me, and she pulled me out of the place and then when my babycunt hurt too much and I couldn't move she made me move...and then God fucked me." Huhwhahuh? I thought, but Karen kept right on going. Her head was back on the pillow now, her blond hair spread out over her shoulders and she was looking up at the ceiling but I didn't think she was seeing it. Her blue eyes were bright and her expression was so beatific it wasn't marred by the ring of drying spunk around her mouth. "God fucked me three...no, four times. When God fucks you He doesn't just fuck your babycunt or your ass, He fucks you everywhere, all over your body and inside all at once, and it feels so amazing. When God fucks me I know He loves me and He makes it stop hurting. I'm God's whore." she finished, and closed her eyes. Her face relaxed into a peaceful smile and within half a minute the preteen was snoring softly. As fascinating as I found Karen's new religious philosophy, her little sister was now my primary concern. She had started to cry again as Karen spoke. "I killed him," she hiccuped out. "I didn't want to but I couldn't do it right, I missed, I killed him..." "Stop it!" I gave the ten-year-old's shoulders a little shake. "You did the best you could. And you did what you had to do. You had to save Karen. Denny was a bad man. He raped you guys, and he might've..." I stopped myself from mentioning killing again. "You had to make him stop. Your sensei would tell you, you did the right thing. You protected Karen, and I love you for doing it." I pushed my face nose-to-nose with Renee. I could feel her breath warm on my lips. "I...love...you!" I said, and then pulled her child-size mouth against mine, forcing my tongue between her lips. I'd taught Renee how to kiss like a lover over a year ago. She melted against me, returning my kiss with experience and shy enthusiasm. I let my hands wander all over her naked body, stroking her neck, her shoulders, her back. I rolled her swelling nips between my fingers, tugging on them gently, feeling her react as her tears gave way to sighs of preadolescent arousal. Her skin was still damp and hot from the bath and it smelled deliciously and uniquely of Renee, of soap and chocolate and her candy lipgloss. Suddenly I stopped fondling the fourth-grader and pushed her over onto her back, at the same time sliding off the bed onto my knees. I grabbed one bare foot. "Is this the one?" I asked. "Is this the foot you kicked Denny with?" Renee raised herself up and stared at me. Her hazel eyes were wide but calm, no longer cowering away from the memory. Silently she pointed at her other foot. I switched sides. "I love this foot, Renee," I declared, and began kissing it all over. I kissed the instep, each toe, licked between them, gently nipped at the flesh behind them, sucked along the arch and opened wide to get as much of the heel in my mouth as I could. "It's a beautiful foot, and it's strong, and I love it. You saved your sister with it, Renee. Never forget that." I continued fondling her sturdy little foot as I slowly kissed my way up her ankle and her shin. Meanwhile I was awkwardly working my wet jeans free of my hips, down and off, followed by my underwear. My cock was iron, carborundum, diamond, choose your own mineralogy cliche. It was so hard it hurt. My lover had done something terrible. It was terrible, it was something that no ten-year-old should have to do, but I had to make it right, I had to make sure she could live with the memory. And I wanted to touch every inch of her prepubescent body, I wanted to touch her and kiss her and love her until it was OK. As I rose from my knees I pushed my rampant cock against the length of her foot. Renee felt it and giggled. I pushed my glans between her big and second toes and she giggled louder as she attempted to grip it. Her laughter was such a welcome sound to me, I finally started to think maybe she would be all right. I grabbed Renee's thighs and spread them wide, opening her perfect child cunt to me. Her labia were pale and chubby, her bald mound rising above her slightly pudgy tummy. Her inner lips were barely visible but there was a moist pink gash between them, and at their apex, the tiny bud of her clit. I swooped down on that delectable feast, swiping my tongue up the length of her slit before turning sideways and nibbling at each lip in turn. "Oh, lick my cunt!" Renee spoke up. I'd taught her over a year ago what I liked, how I enjoyed hearing her speak while I molested her, and she had come to like it too. "Yeah, just like that, please," she continued in her high, piping voice. "Lick it from side to side, and then suck on my button, uh, uh, uh, ooo," she cooed and writhed as I obeyed. Looking up across her stocky nude body I saw Stanley's wide eyes, shocked I suppose by Renee's wanton demands for pleasure. Renee usually insisted on privacy for our sex play - it was one of the ways in her young mind that she differentiated between what she did with me and what Karen did with, well, with anyone with twenty bucks. We were lovers; Karen was a whore. But if Renee didn't mind or had forgotten about Stanley, I wasn't going to remind her. I sucked and licked enthusiastically at her cunny, breathing deeply as her preteen scent filled my nostrils and her scant juice dribbled on my chin. I stuffed my nose as deeply into her slit as I could and sniffed. I pursed my lips around her clitty, sucking to stretch it gently. It was slippery and hot and oh so tasty. "Ooooo, ooooo, ahhhh," Renee's breath was coming faster and harder. She was starting to sweat lightly, rolling her head from side to side on the bedspread. "Eep!" Renee gasped as I relaxed my lips and let her clit snap back , then grabbed her under the armpits and lifted her off the bed. In a trice I sat down and plopped her in my lap facing forward. I leaned into the pillows and pulled her bare back against me. We were looking right at the mirrored doors of the room's closet. "Look, Renee," I whispered in her ear. "Look at your penis!" The ten-year-old's body stiffened and she took in a huge breath as she saw my cock sprouting from between her naked legs. It covered her small vagina and in the dim light it did look like the ten-year-old girl was sporting a dark tangled bush and a big fat hardon. It looked absurdly large, pointing straight up towards her little plum-sized boobies. I took her right hand and wrapped it around my shaft, suppressing a groan of pleasure. "That's it, Renee," I whispered. "Play with your cock. Play with your great big cock." I held her wrist lightly, guiding her hand up and down while I wormed the fingers of my other hand between our slick flesh to diddle her clitoris. Renee's eyes were glued to the mirror. She was panting, and twin red spots appeared high on her cheekbones. She started squeezing and pulling on my tool and I gave her instant feedback by masturbating her in turn. I'd been playing with the child's cunt for plenty long enough to know exactly what she liked so as she made me feel better, I made her feel better. I took her other hand and showed her how to cup my sack with her palm. Within seconds she was doing me almost better than I could. Her breath whistled in her nose, her hair bounced around her shoulders and her bare legs twitched and jumped on the bed. Her eyes were almost glowing as she stared, entranced, at her reflection. The sight in the mirror was amazing, a naked little girl, tiny titties jiggling, apparently masturbating her own rock-hard erection. Her chest was heaving and she gasped for breath. "Oooo, ooo, ooo, oooOOOOoooOOOO!!" she cried, her body suddenly stiffened and the ten-year-old orgasmed on my fingers. Her hands tightened on my shaft and that was all it took for me. I grunted explosively as semen boiled through my urethra, the pleasure multiplied by the constriction of Renee's grip, and splattered onto her chest and her nascent titties. My hips jerked up involuntarily as the second shot flew higher, painting Renee's face with my hot cum. We spasmed together, grown man and ten-year-old girl until her face and hair were dripping with spunk. It was the most intense climax I'd ever seen Renee have. Until now her sexual response had been more childlike, a quick shiver and then done - enjoyable for her but without the depth and intensity of an adult orgasm. I held the little girl tight against me as the tension drained from both of us. She was still squeezing my cock as it deflated. I gently pried her fingers loose but left her hand resting on my shrinking, sticky tool. In the mirror Renee's expression looked dazed and vague. Her mouth hung open, sperm dripping off her upper lip. She licked at it absently. "Look at what a mess you made," I spoke softly to her as I ran my hand over her chest, rubbing in the cooling, sticky jizz until her entire torso gleamed. "Look at the mess you made with your big penis." Renee moaned quietly as I emphasized that it was "her" cock. Her eyelids drooped as I continued caressing her. "I love you, sweetie," I breathed. "I love you, and I love your foot, and I love your cunny, and I love your penis." The sharp smell of sperm didn't seem to bother her and within a few minutes her breathing slowed and deepened. She fell asleep in my lap, her hand still gently holding my limp cock. I was pretty wiped out myself. I gingerly moved us to the center of the bed and lay back to enjoy the erotic warmth and weight of the nude child's cum-spattered body. When I looked over to turn out the light I saw Karen still on her back on the other bed. Stanley was cradling her head in his lap, rubbing his half-hard tool back and forth in her hair and over her face. "Hey," he said quietly as I snapped off the light, "I think I know how to fix her, uh, wound." Terrific, I thought, but I was already spiraling down into a deep sleep. I'd get that steak dinner tomorrow. To be continued...