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. Either way, that's your problem. 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. Jenny's Couch, part 21 (Mg, Fg, ped, mast, oral, anal, prost, cons, n/c, humil, forced-exhib, spank, bond, tort) by Rufus Fugit It was entirely my own fault. Yes, Renee had started it, giggling and covertly touching my penis through my board shorts as the carnival ride spun us around and around, but I was the adult and it was my responsibility to set limits. But I was pretty close to losing it. Far from home with the lovely hot weather and the sun on my skin, young girls and women in skimpy swimsuits everywhere I looked - that was all part of it, leading me to take increasingly foolish risks. One early morning just a few days ago I had stuffed my cock into Renee's mouth as we both stood right out on the beach. Not content with squirting a load of hot semen into the third-grader's mouth, before long I'd put another up her tight, sexy little ass not fifty feet from the house where her parents slept. Jenny had almost caught us, in fact had looked right down on us while my tool was still buried in her daughter's rectum. Only the angle and the drape of Renee's thin nightgown had kept my vacation from an unexpected and unpleasant extension of, oh, twenty years or so. And now as my body whirled around in the Spyder my brain was still spinning from my last view of Karen, blushing and gasping in her new crocheted bikini, trying desperately to conceal the tortured pleasure fountaining from her swollen clitoris trapped in the tight weave of the fabric. The knowledge that at this very moment Moira was prodding the eleven-year-old into selling her body to some stranger left me gasping myself. My cock burned in my loose shorts and it took a stern effort of will to keep my hands off myself. When I stood up I had to trap the drooling head of my penis under the elastic waistband to prevent an obvious, visible tent. Renee wasn't fooled. I'd already had one orgasm today from the weight of her soft little butt on my lap as we had watched Moira abuse her older sister. As our sexual relationship had grown over the past months the child had learned how to recognize adult arousal and her natural playfulness asserted itself when she saw my condition. As the spinning carriage pushed us back against the cushions she threw out her arms as if to keep her balance - but one hand landed squarely on my crotch. She squeezed through my trunks as the mechanism threw us from side to side. My eyes bugged with shocked pleasure and not a little fear, but none of the other people in the car seemed to notice that I was being masturbated by the child sitting next to me, and I dared not call attention to it by ostentatiously removing her hand - or so I told myself. As the ride slowed Renee put her hands primly back in her own lap. The only sign was a suppressed smirk on her round face as I stumbled going down the step. "I'll get you for that, my pretty," I whispered in her ear. And I did, taking her small, warm hand in mine and striding off across the midway towards the log flume. She trotted to keep up, her long brown braids swinging. No sooner did our "log" enter the dark tunnel of the ride than I had her tankini top pulled up to her armpits and was gently tweaking and pulling at her pointy little nipples. They stiffened under my touch and Renee giggled, gasping out "That tickles!" She wriggled back against me and the boat rocked from her motion. Then I jumped myself as Renee put her arms behind her and I felt her hands insinuate themselves between our bodies, groping at my trunks, pulling and squeezing at my erection. Heedless of the increasing motion of the boat and the young mother and toddler seated behind us in the cool, shadowed semidark of the tunnel, I pulled Renee against me with my left hand and plunged my right down into her bikini bottoms. Her smooth, bald vulva was warm and sweat-slick beneath my fingers. Her swimsuit was too snug for me to fondle her properly, but I was able to rub my middle finger up and down her slit and press against the cap of her clitoral hood. It swelled under my touch. Renee pushed back against me as I frigged her little cunny vigorously. Her back was warm and firm against my chest, her hair tickled my chin as she pressed her head back against me. Her hands grabbed at my cock harder through my trunks, tugging the hot shaft from side to side. Her legs scissored open and closed in the confines of the narrow compartment. Her knees thumped against the fiberglass walls and she made little panting "ah! ah!" sounds of pleasure as my finger pressed against the hot, smooth, slippery flesh. I took my right hand out of the child's panties and replaced it with my left. This time I hooked my thumb in the waist of her bikini bottoms, pulling them away from her crotch and exposing her delectable pussy. Before resuming the massage of her chubby pre-breasts, I sucked the fingers of my right hand into my mouth. The sweet smell and taste of Renee's prepubescent juices flooded my senses and I couldn't suppress a soft moan. I closed my eyes in pleasure and continued molesting my niece's boobies and her baby clit, and she kept squeezing and pulling at my burning stiff cock. Then the inside of closed eyelids glowed red and I realized we were out of the tunnel and winching up the incline to the flume plunge. I yanked my hands out of the child's bottoms and fumbled at her top but Renee knocked my hands away and held the fabric up around her armpits, exposing her undeveloped titties to the hot sunlight. She left herself exposed like that until we had almost reached the top, finally pulling her top back into place just before the plunge. I was starting to feel a certain amount of sympathy for Karen's predicament as I levered myself out of the log boat. My cock was throbbing in my shorts, drooling precum which thankfully was concealed by the splashing we had just taken, and it twitched with every step from the friction of the nylon lining against the sensitive skin. That was why I more or less let Renee have her way with me on what turned out to be our last ride, the Ferris wheel. It wasn't the big grownup wheel where you sat on a bench and your legs dangled in space. At age nine, Renee wasn't quite ready for that yet. Instead we took the smaller model with round basket gondolas with a latching gate. The basket seated four or five but business was light and we had it to ourselves. Almost as soon as the attendant clanged the gate shut, Renee moved. She was sitting to my right and she reached across her body with her right arm. Her thin forearm went right up the loose leg of my shorts and inside the net lining of the suit. We spun up in the air and I gasped as her warm fingers groped and found my scrotum, kneading it gently before pushing further up. Her palm slid over my shaft and I groaned as she wrapped her hand around it and squeezed. "Don't," I gasped, my eyes darting back and forth from her knuckles working inside the loose fabric, to the line of people waiting their turn on the ride as we spun past. So far, no one had noticed the little girl with her hand jammed into a grown man's pants but I couldn't tell if the angles concealed us at the wheel's nadir. I had to stop her, I knew it, but her little fingers on my penis just felt so damned good. I closed my eyes and rested my head back. My groan of pleasure was drowned in the raucous, distorted rock'n'roll blaring from the ride's speakers. Renee squeezed harder and worked the skin up and down my shaft. My balls started to tingle as the loose fabric brushed over them. As we swung up in the air and the music dopplered away I heard and felt her giggling into my chest. Her breath puffed warm against my hairy skin. Somehow, I found the discipline to take her elbow and pull her hand away, but when she shook free and clapped her palm against my crotch outside the fabric I didn't have the heart to resist further. I groaned again and my hips squirmed against the hard bench as the third-grader groped and squeezed my stiff tool, rubbing the thin fabric against me. I cradled Renee's head to my chest with my left hand, digging my fingers into her thick brown hair. My right hand slid down her hot, sweaty back. She was leaning over, sitting on her hip with right leg bent and her heel on the seat. My hand dipped into her tankini bottoms, cupping one small, firm, hot cheek. My index finger slid into her crack. I curled the digit and Renee gasped as my fingertip found her tender anus and pressed against it. The child's short legs kicked out and her toes curled against the soles of her sandals as I briskly massaged the hot little rosebud. I held her head firmly against me as I worked my finger back and forth. "Urf!" she exclaimed softly as her sphincter yielded and my fingertip penetrated her just to the first joint. We stayed locked in that embrace as the gondola swung up into the sky and back down several times. It rocked forward and back as Renee kicked her legs and twisted against my invading digit. The moist heat of her anus clamped and squeezed as I fluttered my fingertip up and down, and her right hand yanked my stiff cock back and forth inside my trunks. Then, as we neared the apex of the wheel's rotation it jerked to a halt. The ride was finishing and below us the pimply young man operating it was letting new people into each gondola in turn. Ours swung back and forth and the movement drove Renee's soft, firm ass back against my hand. I took the opportunity to push against the resistance of her hot, tight anal channel and she grunted loudly as my finger slid slowly in. Now it was my turn to giggle as her legs thrashed and her heels drummed against the metal, but with her body twisted awkwardly the child couldn't escape my plunging finger. "Guh...ooh...ow!" "I've got you now, my pretty!" I chuckled. Renee grunted as the car lurched forward and then stopped again, driving my finger further into her tender butt as we swung at the top of the wheel. She moaned and twitched and kicked her feet as I stirred my finger around inside her. I sat back and looked out, taking in the beach and the ocean from our vantage point. My face was flushed and my nipples prickled with the illicit thrill of molesting the child out in the open like this, and the salt breeze was a welcome anodyne. "Look, sweetie," I urged her. "Somewhere down there your big sister is whoring. Some stranger's fucking her babycunt right this second." I was getting even more turned on from my own words as Renee wriggled against me. Was she still trying to get away from the pressure of my finger jammed into her nine-year-old ass, or was she moving against it? "I bet she's having her best orgasm ever...HEY!" The car jerked through another short arc and I exclaimed as I felt the cool breeze suddenly waft across my penis. Renee had yanked down the waistband of my trunks and my cock and balls were exposed to the open air. She wrapped both of her little hands around the shaft and squeezed. Now it was my turn to grunt and kick my legs in reaction as my niece tugged violently at my cock, whipping it from side to side and jerking it hard. The gondola swung forward and back as we struggled, locked in mutual pleasure. "Oh, Renee, my cock, jerk my cock, you're my little cockpuppy, my little lover," I babbled as the long day's arousal drove me suddenly and inexorably to my climax. "Jerk my cock, jerk it, oh, gonna squirt, love you, loveyou loveyooOOW!" I planted my feet and my butt came up off the bench seat as my balls boiled over. The car lurched forward and down again, giving extra momentum to my ejaculation. Renee laughed in delight as my first shot sailed up and over the wall of our car. My eyes almost crossed from the force of my climax. I watched the blob of gooey protein tumbling end-over-end like a tiny chainshot before falling out of sight - straight for the car just below us on the wheel. My second shot also cleared the rail and then Renee turned loose of me and leaned forward to see. I leaned with her - my finger pulling unheeded from her anus - and saw to my horror that both blobs had landed squarely in the teased auburn hair of the young teenager riding in the car. I cowered back out of sight, pulling Renee with me, as I saw the girl's hand start to come up to investigate the splash of wetness. I shuddered again as my diminishing climax squirted more semen onto my swim trunks and the cracked cushion we sat on. As I took a deep breath, I realized the ringing was not only in my ears, it was coming from my cellphone. There was just time for a brief conversation with Moira and an even briefer attempt to clean myself up, scooping cum off my trunks and into my mouth and rubbing in the rest and trying to arrange our skimpy clothing. There was no hiding Renee's flushed face and grin of triumph but she looked no different than any of the dozens of happy, overexcited children thronging the midway. I took her arm firmly and we walked briskly down the gangway and off the ride, dodging around the chubby teen and her friend who had occupied the car ahead of us. The one girl was rubbing her head and they looked in puzzlement at the glob of goo webbing her fingers. Renee stumbled and almost fell and I yanked her upright. She protested and I realized I was squeezing her arm much too hard. Now that the urgency of my sexual flush had faded I was pretty ticked off. But it certainly wasn't her fault - I was mad at myself for letting the little head do the thinking, and there was no excuse for taking it out on the child. Karen was already living the consequences of letting my dick lead me around. Granted it was only her freakish sexual hyper-responsiveness that had made it possible for me to convince her that she was a whore, and even though she was learning to enjoy being a preteen prostitute, it was my own carelessness that had set us on this path. If I hadn't let my desire to molest Renee overwhelm my caution and good sense, Karen never would have caught me astride the younger girl ejaculating hot, gooey cum all over her innocent face. And then I wouldn't have needed to force Karen's involvement in our sex play and make it her guilty secret to ensure her silence. But if I was honest with myself, I had to admit that I could have and probably should have stopped long before now, long before the poor child was so completely overwhelmed by the sexual needs I'd prematurely awakened in her. Compulsive masturbation had come to almost dominate her life, and even then it wasn't enough. We'd reached the point where I had to enlist Moira to teach her how to seduce adult men just so she could frequently have the intercourse she now craved so desperately. As far as the prostitution itself went, well, if the eleven-year-old was going to be fucking on a daily basis, why not make some money? It also further ensured her silence. Though I had done my best to warp Karen's religious training and convince her that being a whore was God's plan for her, still she had absorbed the message from her church and popular culture that whoring was even more depraved than wanton female sexuality by itself. I wanted her to be privately happy and prideful to be a whore, but for my safety she had to also view it as a shameful secret to be protected at all costs. I'd gone to great lengths to instill the importance of secrecy in Karen, but now I seemed to be unable to resist flaunting my sexual relationship with her nine-year-old sister every time my cock got hard. I knew full well the consequences of getting caught would be dire, and yet here I was. Still, none of it was Renee's fault. So I murmured "Sorry," and let go of her upper arm. I gently took her hand instead and, safely out of sight of the girl on whose head I had just ejaculated, slowed to a pace comfortable for shorter legs. It took a few minutes to find Karen and Moira. Following the directions Moira had given me on the phone, we walked almost to the far end of the boardwalk and then down to the beach. We found them in the shadow of the boardwalk, in a small picnic area mostly hidden by some palm trees. The trees were bent and tilted, perhaps by some past storm, and their fronds hung almost to the ground in places, creating a dim, cool, shaded area set back, largely ignored and almost invisible from the rest of the beach. I heard Karen before I saw her. The breeze carried the salt tang of the ocean, the lush perfume of the greenery, a faint whiff of garbage, and the familiar sound of her high, childish voice gasping in pleasure. But when my eyes adjusted to the dimmer light I got mad all over again. Karen was lying on her back on a round wooden picnic table. She was still wearing her skimpy bikini top, but that was it. Moira's white shirt was wadded up into a makeshift pillow beneath the fifth-grader's head, and she was otherwise naked. Her long blonde hair spread in a tangled fan across the table. One arm was thrown across her face, covering her eyes in the crook of her elbow. Her other hand hung limply off the edge of the table. Moira was sitting on a bench with Karen's butt cheeks cupped in her hands and her face buried in the child's barely-furred crotch. Her head bobbed up and down as she energetically lapped at my niece's undeveloped pussy. Karen's skinny, tanned legs were draped over Moira's shoulders. Occasionally her back would arch or her torso twist as she gasped and moaned softly. One or the other leg would briefly rise up, her pretty ankle twisting and her delicate toes curling and uncurling, before slowly dropping back to rest on the older woman's back. Renee went on ahead but I stopped dead, staring at the erotic tableau as anger and arousal warred in me. Anger won at my erstwhile lover's lack of discretion and I plunged ahead, passing Renee and reaching them first. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" I demanded. Moira raised her head. From the bridge of her nose down to her chin her face was shiny with Karen's preadolescent sex juices, and her lips were smeared with semen. Her brown hair clung in damp ringlets to the smudged rouge on her wet cheeks. She grinned impudently, ignoring my tone. "Just cleaning up the little whore," she said brightly, before pressing her mouth back down against Karen's gaping vulva. Her tongue flicked out, pressing against the child's dark red, swollen clitoris. Karen gave a low moan in response and her thighs lifted and squeezed briefly around Moira's head. I sighed in frustration as Renee caught up to me. She stood next to me and looked down at her big sister. Her face was impassive but when she spoke her voice was dripping with the scorn that only a nine-year-old could muster. "Karen! Can't you ever stop whoring?" Karen took her arm away from her face and stretched, extending both arms out over her head, straightening her knees and pointing her bare toes. She looked up at Renee with a dazed, blissed-out expression. If she even noticed the contempt in her little sister's voice, it didn't seem to bother her. "Ooooh, yeeeah, I'm a total whore," she said softly, tensing her stomach as Moira nibbled at her puffy, bare labia. "I got - ah! - fucked sooooo good." I kinda felt the same way Renee did, never mind that Karen's current condition was entirely my doing. Still, I couldn't let that tone of voice go unrebuked. I grabbed Renee's shoulder - perhaps a bit too hard in my frustration - and gave her a little shake. "That's unacceptable, young lady! You do not talk to your sister that way!" I turned the child to face me and crouched down to her eye level. I softened my grip and gently rubbed both her bare shoulders as I continued, "You wanted Karen to not be sad any more, didn't you? Didn't you?" Eyes wide, she nodded. "Well, she's not sad any more, and that's because Moira showed her how to find boys to fuck. When we get home she'll be able to fuck as much as she wants - and I bet she'll do it a lot." Talking dirty to the children never lost its thrill for me - with each "fuck" I felt a little surge of illicit pleasure deep in my solar plexus. "You should be happy for her. Now, apologize for teasing her." Renee looked down into the vague, gentle smile pasted on her sister's face. "I'm sorry, Karen," Renee said. "I'm glad you got fucked really good." Karen giggled as Moira slurped noisily at her sticky cunt. "He took my - gah! - took my bottoms. Oh, oooh, aaaAAH!" She arched her back, pushing both hands inside her bikini top. Her knuckles were visible moving beneath the thin fabric as she tugged on her stiff, puffy nipples. Her mouth pursed, her childish brow wrinkled and her stomach muscles twitched and tensed with an approaching climax. Enough was enough. I took Moira by the shoulder and gently pulled her face away from the preteen's dripping, swollen vulva. Karen groaned softly and strained her crotch forwards, trying to restore contact. "I'm glad you got fucked good, sweetie," I said, trying to keep a handle on my temper, "but that's not all there is to whoring. A good whore is discreet, too. Do you know what that word means?" Her only response was a frustrated whine and to writhe slightly on the well-worn, silvery wood. "What about you?" I demanded of Moira. "You're supposed to be teaching her how to be sneaky, not how to spread her cunt for the entire beach!" "Relax," Moira said in an annoyed tone. She shrugged Karen's legs off her shoulders; they splayed wide and her bare heels thumped on the bench. Moira scrubbed at her face with her hand, then stuck two fingers in her mouth and sucked noisily. Her nipples were poking out her bikini top and as she turned and lifted her leg to straddle the bench I caught a whiff of her pungent scent. "It's cool. And believe me, the whore did need to be cleaned up. She was bubbling out spunk like an oil well." She smirked at the crude comparison. "But it's cool," she repeated. "No one can see us back here." "Oh, no? Look over my shoulder." Moira leaned to the side to see around me. Her eyes widened and the smirk faded from her heart-shaped face. "He wasn't there before, dammit!" I was all ready to really rip into Moira for her carelessness, but I was interrupted by Karen. "Uh...uh...ooooaaah," the preteen moaned. I looked down at the table. She was wriggling on the wooden tabletop, twisting her torso from side to side. She had pushed her bikini top up and her puffy nipples, engorged and stiff, pointed at the sky. Her head was thrown back, blue eyes glassy and open wide. Despite the relative coolness of the shaded area, her naked body was beaded with sweat. Both hands were busy at her spread crotch. She had seized her slick, shiny, oversized clitty between her left thumb and forefinger and was vigorously tugging and rubbing at it. Her right middle finger was buried in her vagina, slowly pistoning in and out. Each thrust was accompanied by a sticky, sliding sound as her baby honey squished out and ran down her labia and thighs. A spreading stain darkened the wood underneath her skinny butt. Her face was red and getting redder, and the sexual flush was spreading across her upper chest. I acted quickly before the fifth-grader could finish herself off. I grabbed both wrists in one hand, wrenching her finger out of her drenched, tight little pussy and pulling her arms up over her head. She had no time to react before my other hand came down, smacking her squarely on her smooth, bald, swollen labia. That got her attention. "Aaah!" she yelped and her whole body jumped. Her eyes swam into focus on me. The sexual daze faded, replaced by an expression of hurt and surprise. I gave her no time to think, though. I pulled her up to a sitting position, her feet dangling off the edge of the table. I snatched up the wadded-up shirt she'd been pillowing her head on. Then, taking one wrist in an iron grip I turned and walked away. She came off the table, stumbling as her toes dug into the uneven sand. She had to force her shaky legs into a half-trot, or fall and be dragged. The sudden change was so surprising that it took Karen a few steps to realize that she was naked. Somehow she felt much more exposed to be walking along behind me than lying on the table with Moira feasting on her juicy babycunt. Her labia stung from the slap I'd just given her and her clitty throbbed with her forestalled climax. Karen was getting used to being naked in public, to exposing her body to me, to her sister, to strangers. She was even coming to enjoy it, to welcome the shivers of pleasure she got from the warm air caressing her bare skin - but it was still enjoyment not unmixed with embarrassment. And lately even when she was dressed normally - at school, shopping with Mommy and Daddy, or in church, places where she knew she had to keep up the pretense of being an innocent little girl - if she didn't concentrate, if she let her mind wander for even a second, the whore would rise to the surface. She'd have little flashes, quick imaginings of herself undressed, her legs spread and her immature body exposed. Sometimes she couldn't help thinking about the boys in her class, or her Sunday School teacher, or the pastor seeing her nude. She would imagine their penises, imagine touching and licking them, making them stiff and hard, and even fucking them. Once or twice she even caught herself thoughtlessly reaching a hand up under her dress or grinding her heating clam against her seat. She would blush and squirm when this happened. Her stomach would get all fluttery and her nearly-bald cunny would feel hot and damp in her panties even as her skin prickled with shame. Those same conflicting emotions overwhelmed Karen as she looked up and suddenly realized I was pulling her towards a man. Her sexual flush faded, replaced by a deep blush that spread across her face to the roots of her hair and down her torso. Her nipples crinkled and stiffened in the slight breeze. Her pace slowed for a second and she almost stumbled again as I yanked her off balance. We came to a stop and she desperately tried to fumble her bikini top down into place one-handed. I stepped behind the blond eleven-year-old and pulled her wrists down behind her back, holding her exposed. We stood in front of a grotesquely fat man. He had been half-concealed by some greenery and a trash barrel in front of the bench he sat on. The lenses of round wire-rim glasses magnified his watery brown eyes. Sweat beaded his forehead and lank, medium-brown hair in a ragged Dutch Boy cut. He short-sleeve dress shirt was yellowed and sweat-stained. His belly spilled over his waistline, concealing nearly all but the cuffs of faded Bermuda shorts. Feet with thick, yellowed toenails were jammed into leather sandals. Sunburnt, flabby skin bulged, spilling over the collar of his shirt in multiple chins, straining the legs of his shorts, straining the straps of his sandals. "You were enjoying the show," I said, not really a question. Karen's blue bikini top was loose around her neck, exposing her stiff, cherry-sized nipples. With her arms pinioned behind her, all the fifth-grader could do to cover herself was cross one leg over another, but the swollen, shiny bud of her clitoris still peeked out. Her inner thighs were shiny with her juices and Moira's saliva. She stared down at her toes digging in the sand, but then she thought, I'm not a little girl. It was like the whore was talking to her, telling her there was no reason to be scared, telling her what to do. Her feelings of humiliation at being displayed naked to a stranger faded. Why feel bad? The man knew. Her uncle knew. God knew, and they were all watching her but no one else could see. She didn't have to pretend to be anything but the whore that God had made her. She no longer felt the burning, aching desperate need deep inside her - the two orgasms she'd had while riding Mister Jim's cock had satisfied that - but the thought of doing it again still made her heart race in her skinny chest. Even though her barely-pubescent vagina felt scraped and raw from the vigorous intercourse of less than an hour past, it was tingling with anticipation now, and it was a relief not to have to hide that. Her self-assurance faltered when she met the fat man's eyes. There was something in his gaze that made her feel strange and uncertain. Something about the way he was looking at her, calm and almost cold, reminded her of the warnings Moira had given her before. But this huge, flabby man surely wasn't a bodybuilder so Karen pushed her worries aside. She arched her back, pushing out her skinny chest with its puffy pink nipples and said in a clear, high voice, "I'm Karen and I'm a whore. What's your name?" The man just stared back, long enough that Karen thought he wasn't going to answer at all. Finally, he spoke in a high, breathy voice. "My name's Theodore, but my girls call me Doctor K." His voice was punctuated with gaspy, deep, phlegmy breaths. "You can't really be a whore, a pretty little girl like you. Why don't you put some clothes on?" "I am so a whore!" Karen shot back. The words popped out of her mouth without thought but as they echoed in her ears her thoughts were racing. What if she really wasn't a whore? If she wasn't...then she was just a little girl, a terribly, terribly bad little girl who did bad things, did them and liked them and knew they were bad and did them again anyway. That couldn't be true...could it? I felt the eleven-year-old's skinny nude body trembling against me, but then she shook her head and pulled her wrists free of my grasp. Karen stepped forward and pressed herself against Dr. K's fat stomach, reaching her arms as far around him as she could. "I am so a whore," she repeated, but her voice was now a risible imitation of an adult woman's seductive purr. "Touch my hot babycunt and see. Go ahead, I know you wanna. Touch my babycunt. Touch my babycunt. Touch my babycunt..." she trailed off to a mumble, repeating the words over and over. Her head was turned, one cheek pressed against the fabric of his shirt. I saw her eyes drift closed and her face go slack. She shivered as one pudgy hand stroked her back absently, playing over the bony shoulderblades underneath her thick, loose golden hair. I was surprised but thrilled at the way Karen had seized the initiative. "You got some place to take her?" I asked, and the fat man turned his gaze on me. There was something...off...about him, something not quite right. I should have heeded that feeling, but at the time I was mostly ticked off and exasperated and wanted to teach Karen a lesson. "My van," the fat man rumbled. "A hundred bucks," I said, doubling the amount I intended to ask for at the last minute. I was getting more uneasy with each passing second and was half-hoping he'd turn me down. "A hundred, you don't drive away and you don't mark her up. Deal?" The fat man didn't say anything in response, just gently pushed Karen away from him. He heaved himself up on one massive hip and withdrew a thick roll of bills from his pocket. He snapped a single hundred off and held it out to me. "She got clothes?" "Oh. Yeah." I shook out Moira's crumpled white shirt. Karen looked back and forth between us as I pushed her thin, unresisting arms through the short sleeves. I turned her to face me and knelt on the sand to button the shirt closed over her sweaty naked body. "There." I stroked my hands down her chest, smoothing the fabric, and looked up into her wide blue eyes. "He paid a whole hundred dollars to fuck you, sweetie," I said. I pushed one hand up between her sticky thighs under the shirt until I palmed her hot, wet peach. Her red lips parted and her eyelids drooped as my finger rubbed briefly across her slit. She gasped and her knees buckled a little as the digit slid smoothly into her. I caressed her smooth cheek with the other hand as I pumped in and out of her once, twice. I could feel her breath against my palm, huffing out in little gasps of pleasure. "That's a lot of money, so you do what he wants, okay?" Karen sighed as I slid my finger out of her hot, twitching preteen vagina and stood. She looked up at me and nodded. Theodore or Dr. K. or whoever he was had pushed himself to his feet while I dressed the child. She just had time to reach back and sweep her waist-length hair out of the collar of her shirt and free it to tumble down her back, then he wrapped one hand around her thin wrist and set off across the sand, heading for the closest stairs up to the boardwalk. I gazed after them, absently sucking the tangy, delicious taste of Karen's cunt off my finger. I looked back. Moira was still sitting at the picnic table. She was talking earnestly to Renee. The nine-year-old was listening but she stood back a pace, out of reach. Once Karen and her trick reached the stairs and could no longer see me I set off to follow them. * * * "Is he your father?" Dr. K asked as he puffed his way slowly up the stairs. He pulled himself along with one hand on the railing. With the other he held Karen's wrist in a gentle but unbreakable grip. The barefoot child was dwarfed next to the tall, obese man. She kept pace with him awkwardly, waiting with both feet on each riser for him to make his next ponderous step. She squeezed her thighs together surreptitiously beneath the tails of the white shirt, enjoying the feel of the breeze playing on her naked crotch and the smooth, weathered, sun-warmed wood against the soles of her feet. Her button was still hot and inflamed and the soft, thin fabric of Moira's shirt was almost like sandpaper when it fluttered against the tiny bud of flesh. It still felt good, though. "No, sir," Karen replied, her manners reasserting themselves. "He's my uncle." "He doesn't seem like a very nice man." Dr. K grunted as he pulled himself up the last step. He looked down at the thin eleven-year-old as she stepped up beside him. "Making you fuck grownups for money isn't what a good uncle does." "He doesn't make me," Karen replied. "He's teaching me. I like fucking! I fucked once already today, and I sucked a cock too." Karen felt perversely proud of the confidence she heard in her own voice. She remembered back before she was a whore, she couldn't even say "penis" or "cunt" without blushing. Dr. K looked down at her for a long moment, then started walking again. On a flat surface his rolling gait was surprisingly fast, and Karen had to stretch her legs to keep up so that his firm hold on her wrist didn't pull her off-balance. They had traversed the boardwalk and were waiting for traffic to clear before crossing the street to the parking area before he spoke again. "Young lady, I'm afraid I can't believe that. I think your uncle has tricked you. A pretty little girl like you can't possibly enjoy being a prostitute. It's disgusting and wrong. I have a responsibility, I think, to tell your parents what you're doing." In a flash, Karen's pride and self-confidence evaporated and she went rigid with fear. Her face flashed hot and cold and tears prickled behind her eyes at the thought of Mommy and Daddy finding out she was a whore. "No!" she cried. "No, please don't tell...OW!" Dr. K had stepped into the street and pulled her after him. When she had passed this way before she'd been wearing flip-flops but now she was barefoot and the pavement was viciously hot against the uncallused skin of her feet. She hopped into the air but there was nowhere to go and no escape from Dr. K's firm grip. She tried balancing on her heel, on her toes, but no matter what she did each step was agony. "Ow! ow! ow, ow!" she yipped with every pace until they reached the far side of the street, a narrow strip of sere grass and dirt separating it from the dazzling black asphalt of the parking lot. Karen stood gasping, digging her burning toes gratefully into the cooler dust. As the pain in her feet receded, though, the fear from Dr. K's last words washed over her again. "Please don't tell," she begged. The blonde fifth-grader's sun-kissed face crumpled into tears under Dr. K's impassive gaze. "Please - Daddy wouldn't understand. He'd say I'm too little to be a whore, but I...I have to!" "You have to? Why?" Families were walking past them in both directions at the busy crossing. Karen was well-schooled already in concealing her true self so without thinking she stepped closer to Dr. K's obese form and lowered her voice, though the frankly pleading tone remained. "It's my...my cunt," she said, hating the way she stumbled over the word this time. She rushed on, "It gets so hot, I can't stand it. Before if I masturbated it was OK but now it's not, I have to get fucked because God wants me to get fucked, because He made me a whore, but if Mommy and Daddy know they won't let me fuck and I'll...I'll..." Overwhelmed, Karen dissolved into miserable tears. People were looking now, and she knew she had to stop, had to hide, to make everyone think she was just a happy little girl, but her tears had broken open some terrible, deep well of emotion and she found she was unable to stop. Instead, her sobs got louder and wilder until her preteen body shook with the force of them. She pressed her face into Dr. K's belly. Why was she crying? It wasn't because she was a whore. It had felt so good to get fucked today. It was a little bit scary, but she had told herself that was part of the fun. And the sensation of Mister Jim's penis penetrating her, forcing open the tight tube of her pubescent pussy, pushing deep inside her, swelling and squirting hot cum against her undeveloped cervix - it was so good, she knew she wanted to do it again and again and again. So it wasn't that. She was a whore now, and being a little girl was just like a costume she wore so the whore could fuck as much as she wanted. It was the hiding that hurt. Being scared all the time that Mommy or Daddy or someone would find out. Having to pretend she didn't know about masturbating and orgasms and her uncle's cock filling her mouth with thick, tasty jizz and being naked under this thin white shirt, having to pretend to be the little girl whose stomach didn't get all quivery when she thought about some stranger's penis jerking and squirting into her, whose babycunt wasn't hot and squishy-wet nearly all the time. She was starting to hate the little girl, and maybe that's why she was crying. Or maybe not. Dr. K. held her, stroking her hair gently until the paroxysm passed and Karen calmed. She sniffled once or twice, then scrubbed her hand across her face as he started to speak soothingly, his voice rumbling in his giant fat belly. "It's okay, Karen, I'm going to help you. I'm a special kind of doctor. Back home in South Dakota, I help little girls that are confused like you. You're not a whore, Karen. I know you think you are, but you're not. I'm going to help you. I'll fix you so you don't need sex any more." Dr. K's voice was so kind, and he seemed so nice, but Karen was shaking her head without thinking about it. "I am so a whore," she insisted. "God made me a whore, and I can't say no to God." She was just repeating what her uncle had taught her, but it seemed to make Dr. K mad. His arm tightened around her shoulders and his voice didn't sound so nice anymore. "That's not true, young lady, it's disgusting blasphemy!" Karen didn't know what that meant, but from the tone of voice it must be something bad. "You're in worse shape than I thought. Treating you is not going to be easy, but you'll thank me when it's done. Now come on." He grabbed Karen's wrist again and started to step off the dirt verge into the parking lot. "Wait!" Karen cried. "It hurts my feet - can't we please go back and get my flip-flops? Please?" "There's no time for that, young lady." And with that he pulled Karen in his wake. "Ow! Ow-oww! OW!" Karen cried out with each step as the hot asphalt burned her feet and sharp little stones cut into her soles. Her cries got louder with each painful step, until Dr. K suddenly stopped and turned her to face him. His heavy hands pressed down on her bony shoulders. "Quiet!" he said, then repeated it more softly. Then when Karen continued to hop and wiggle around, trying to spare her poor burning feet, he slid one thumb inwards to her thin neck and pressed right in the hollow of her throat - not hard enough to choke her, but hard enough so that it hurt to swallow for just a second. "Hold still!" he hissed and, suddenly fearful, she did. Her feet hurt worse and worse as Karen was held flat-footed on the scorching pavement. The sun was hot on her scalp and sweat trickled down her forehead into her eyes. A pebble dug into one heel. Her knees started to tremble with the strain of staying still. She was unable to keep completely silent, whimpering "Owwwww...owwwww...owwwww," softly, continuously, as Dr. K. spoke. "You're attracting attention," he said sternly. "I want to treat you, Karen, but if one of these people calls the police I'll have to tell them the truth. And then the police will arrest you, and they'll arrest your uncle, and you'll never see your mommy and daddy again. Is that what you want?" Karen shook her head, her eyes watering now from the pain. "Then you walk quietly next to me, like a good little girl." And with that he took the fifth-grader's wrist again and pulled her into motion. "I'm not a little girl, I'm a whore," Karen said, but only to herself. "I'm a whore, I'm a whore, I'm a whore," she repeated with each painful step. The silent litany somehow made the burning more bearable. With her jaw clamped in an unsuccessful effort to stop her quiet, high-pitched whining, she focused not on the agony in her feet but the more pleasant feeling of the breeze wafting under her shirt, the cooling as sweat and cunt juices dried on her thighs and vulva, the little shocks of rough pleasure as the fabric brushed against her oversized erect clitoris. Finally they reached their destination in one far corner of the lot. Dr. K approached a battered white van. The van was parked near the end of the row with the driver's side facing a blank brick wall and no other cars nearby. A magnolia tree growing on the far side of the wall spread its boughs low over the van, shading the windshield. Dr. K finally released the fifth-grader and fumbled in a pocket for his keys. Now that they were concealed and there was no one around he didn't seem to mind that she started hopping from foot to foot again. Her waist-length blonde hair swung back and forth, shining in the sun. She had sweated through Moira's shirt. Her puffy, walnut-sized nipples and her rounded belly were clearly visible against the damp fabric. Her skinny butt swayed from side to side as she jumped around in a little circle, moaning softly as each burned foot in turn contacted the pavement. Finally Dr. K got the door open and heaved himself up in the driver's seat. It was a special seat, modified for his bulk to slide back and recline further than normal. The air inside the van was stiflingly hot. His face got red and sweat popped out in seconds. "Come here, Karen," he gasped out, and as she limped to the door he grabbed under her armpits, lifting her thin form effortlessly. Karen felt herself dragged into the van and before she knew it she was lying on her back across Dr. K's huge belly. Her head flopped back against the passenger seat cushion. Dr. K put his arm behind her knobby knees, lifting her feet up and into the vehicle and bending her almost double. It was uncomfortable, and she knew he had a choice view of her puffy labia and the tight, pinkish-brown star of her anus as her white shirt flipped up across her belly, but it was such a relief to get her feet off the asphalt that she didn't care. Dr. K pulled the van door closed and her heels thumped against the window. He slid his key into the ignition. The engine coughed to life, and then with a roar air blew into her face and across her sweaty body, hot at first but rapidly cooling as the van's a/c took hold. Then he pressed a switch and she felt the window sliding down against her soles. As it opened her legs fell outside of the van. The window frame hit her right at the backs of her knees. Her calves flopped down but then with a yelp she straightened them - the metal of the door was, if anything, hotter than the pavement. From her vantage point lying with her back arched across Dr. K's belly, Karen quickly discovered two things. One, he had a lot of hair up his nose. Two, his fat hands could be surprisingly nimble. In seconds he had her shirt unbuttoned, revealing her straight, skinny torso. She stared at the van's dirty head liner as his fingers gently caressed her stomach, feeling the taut, childish musculature of her abdomen. Her eyes rolled back and her mouth dropped open with a soft "huh!" of pleasure as he gently tugged on and tweaked each puffy pink nipple in turn. She bent her knees and pulled her feet back inside the van, propping her heels on the doorframe and spreading her legs open as far as she could in the cramped space. Her right thigh fell against the steering wheel. Her slit was open, exposing the dark red, moist interior of her vaginal channel. Her labia were puffy, red, and irritated. In the harsh, bright sunlight slight diagonal wrinkles on each hairless lip were plainly visible, showing where they had been stretched wide by the many adult and teenaged penises that had penetrated her. Her clitoris stood straight up, slick and deeply flushed with blood, twitching in the blast of cold air from the dashboard vents. Dr. K's left hand trailed down her baby six-pack and over her prominent mound, pushed up as it was by her stretched position. "This is it," he rumbled as he caressed the fifth-grader's sweaty vulva, "This is the part that gives you so much trouble. I'm going to examine you now." "Wha...? Oooh!" A question died on Karen's lips and she sighed as Dr. K pressed one fat finger between her smooth labia and penetrated her. She was still thoroughly lubricated and he slid easily into her heat. "Mmmm," she moaned as she clamped down with her Kegel muscles as she'd learned would magnify her pleasure. "You like this?" Dr. K demanded as he felt the slick, twitching walls of her preteen cunt squeezing his finger. "Yessss, I like it. I'm a whore and I like it...ahhOH!" Karen smiled, then gasped in surprise as one finger slid out of her juicy channel but two pressed right back in, stretching her further. She writhed atop the fat man, trying to open her legs wider in the confined space. Her training took over and she chanted, "Oh, yeaah, fuck me, fuck my babycunt, fuck my whore babycunt!" Dr. K's face darkened. "You poor little girl. You are not a whore. I'm going to help you now." He pressed his right hand down on her breastbone between the swollen nubs that were almost titties, pinning her. "I am so a whore, I am so...OW!" Karen yelped as once again fingers slid out of her cunny but this time three and then four fingers shoved back in, stretching her labia painfully tight. She tensed her abdomen and squeezed with all her might, trying to expel the invaders, but it was fruitless - tightening her muscles just made it hurt more. She tried to wriggle free but Dr. K's right hand held her firm. She grunted as fresh pain bloomed - Dr. K was curling and twisting his fingers violently inside her tight pubescent channel. Tears sprang to her eyes; it felt like she was being beaten from the inside. She raised her head and looked down at herself to see the skin above her mound bulging and moving. "OW! You're hurting! Stop, STOP!" she yelled. "Yes, it hurts, it's supposed to," Dr. K barked. "If you were really a whore you'd be so stretched-out that you wouldn't even feel this." His face was getting redder and he grunted with the effort of forcing his fingers deep inside the struggling, supine child. "But you don't have a stretched-out, skanky, flabby hooker's cunt - yours is nice and tight, like a little girl's should be. Isn't it? Just admit it and I'll be able to stop the examination. Isn't it?" "NO!" Karen screamed back, tears streaming down her face now. She pulled her knees up and back, spreading her legs as wide as she possibly could, desperately trying to accommodate Dr. K's blunt, fat digits. When that gave no relief she kicked out wildly, banging her toes painfully against the windshield and the roof of the van. "I AM a whore! I am SO!" She wasn't sure why she was defying him. All she had to do was agree with him and he'd stop hurting her. Part of it was she was just mad, mad at him and too stubborn to give him what he wanted. But more than that, she had to be a whore. It was her armor. Sure, it hurt some but that was just part of the deal and she had known it since the first time she'd been fucked. She'd been sore for days afterwards, but it had been worth it, more than worth it to feel that wonderful eruption of heat and pleasure that started in her button and tore through her entire body. (Not to mention, it was pretty cool being able to earn so much money.) Being a whore protected her from much worse. Stripping naked in front of strangers, letting men touch her and fuck her and shoot their sperm in her mouth - for a whore that was normal, no big deal. But for a little girl...a little girl should be playing in the sand on the beach under the fond gaze of her mommy and daddy, not sold by her uncle to some horrible fat sweaty pig of a man, stripped naked and painfully violated. A little girl would never recover from that. So she was yelling not only at Dr. K, but at the little girl as well, making sure she stayed away, making sure that she knew that Karen was a whore. "Oh, no, that won't do." Dr. K said. Karen had wrapped her hands around his wrist and was trying with all her pitiful strength to pull him out of her ravaged cunny. With his right hand he tugged on the string of the bikini top tangled around her thin neck. The knot came loose easily. Even though his left hand was slick with Karen's cunt cream he was able to capture her wrists and before she could react he had them tightly tied. He transferred his grip and pulled her arms up and over her head with his right hand and looped the crocheted fabric over the passenger door handle, binding her fully extended. Karen struggled futilely. She twisted her body, kicking her feet out the open window. "Let me GO! LET GO! I HATE YOU!" Dr. K was unfazed. He peered down at her heaving crotch, stroking his fat fingers over her bare labia, brushing them over the tuft of pubic fuzz adorning her mound. He grabbed the short hairs between his finger and tugged gently. "Maybe this is the problem. Maybe you think you're older than you are. I guess I should fix that." Karen screamed as Dr. K. suddenly ripped out the little clump of silky pubes by the roots. She writhed and pulled against her bonds, jerking her belly up and down. Dr. K brandished the skimpy blonde swatch before Karen's bulging eyes. As she drew in a ragged breath to scream again, he sprinkled them into her open mouth. She gagged as the hairs lodged in her throat. Her body was wracked by a coughing fit. "There," he said, rubbing his left palm roughly over her now-bald mound. "There, now that's definitely a little girl's veejay. No way that belongs to a whore, does it? Does it?" Karen coughed and choked, trying to clear her throat. She turned her head to the side and hawked, scraping her tongue along the roof of her mouth to expel the tickling pubes that clung to her palate. Globs of saliva wet the dirty seat cushion. When she turned her face upwards again, drool coated her chin and one cheek. The roaring fan blew dust up her nose and she sneezed. Through teary eyes she saw the van's dingy ceiling, the sky through the dusty windshield, Dr. K's angry face, her freshly-denuded mound. Tears and snot clogged her throat. "I'm...a whore," she gasped out, and coughed again. "I'm a whore," she panted, "and you're a...fuck-head! Dick! Assface!" Karen had no experience with cussing. Little girls didn't say bad words no matter how angry they got. A whore could say what she liked. "Shit...shit-man!" SMACK! Dr. K's face contorted in a snarl and he spanked the naked eleven-year-old right on her bare cunny. Karen yelped in pain and surprise, and her whole body jerked. "Bad language! Bad girl!" Dr. K shouted as he struck her vulva over and over. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "YII! YOW! AIEE!" Karen's body spasmed with every blow. She wrenched her shoulders pulling against her restraints. Her skinny legs kicked and waved out the open window, her delicate toes flexing. Her bald labia turned bright pink under the assault. Her body leaped with the fresh shock of every spank. Dr. K's fat palm hit her swollen, oversized clitoris again and again. It stung, then it burned, then the tiny bundle of nerve endings screamed - but it wasn't only a scream of pain. In the child's overwhelmed and hypersexualized nervous system the heat merged with a rising tide of arousal. Even as the pain in her labia and clitty became more intense, pleasure began to radiate from the swollen button, filling her belly, lancing into her straining limbs, spiking tingles up her nipples. The pleasure wrapped itself around the pain, squeezing her entire body and becoming more and more intense until her head was spinning and she was shaking and crying. Karen's staccato cries became a single, drawn-out moan, rising and falling and peaking with a shrill squeal at each slap. She stopped trying to twist away from the fat man's assault and instead humped her crotch upwards to meet the blows. She strained her thighs open wide to expose more of her most tender tissues to the delicious torture. Cunt cream poured from her inner lips, a fresh surge as her body jerked under each blow. Dr. K's hand got slick with it and sticky threads stretched from her cunny to his hand when he raised it for each strike. "OooooooAIEE! Oh, my babycunt AIEE! Oh, God, oh God, oh GAIEE! I'm a whore! I'm a whoAAIEE!" Dr. K held his stinging palm in the air, gazing down in dismay at the naked eleven-year-old laid across his stomach. Her face and her labia were both brick-red. Tears ran from the corners of her eyes, snot from her nose, and thick, pungent juice from her swollen vagina. Her blonde hair was tangled and lank with sweat. Childish muscles knotted and slid under the skin of her thin arms as she writhed against the bikini top binding her. Her chest and belly heaved as she gulped in air. Her nipples quivered and twitched with her racing heartbeat. The short-sleeved white shirt that was her only garment was rucked up beneath her. Her smooth, denuded cunt was wide open now, the labia obscenely stretched. Her inner lips had flowered open and were slimed with her baby honey. As he watched she twisted and strained and a fresh flow oozed out, running down to coat her perineum and staining his shirt. The tangy scent of her overpowered even the heavy perfume of magnolia and the van's air-conditioning. And at the top of her slit, her clitoris stood straight up, turgid and throbbing and flushed a deep, dark crimson. "Ahhh...ahhh...ahhh." Karen's moaning gasps pulled his attention away from her sorely abused crotch to her face. She was still crying but her face was relaxed. A smile tugged at her mouth as she writhed, grinding her butt into his dampening shirt. "See? I'm a total whore. God made me a whore, and I like it." She turned her head and wiped her snotty nose on her bicep, then locked gazes with Dr. K. Her blue eyes were wide and feverish in her sweaty face. "Don't you want to fuck my babycunt? Please, fuck my babycunt, please...AAIIEE!" Karen shrieked because Dr. K had seized her obscenely swollen clitoris between thumb and finger and squeezed with all his might. "THIS...is the problem!" he declared. "I understand now!" Karen writhed more violently than ever as the slippery flesh popped free of his gripping fingers. Undaunted, he grabbed it again, this time pinching with his cracked, horny thumbnail so he could hold it firmly and stretch it away from the fifth-grader's straining body. He pulled, hard. "YEEEAAAARGH!" The pain in her clit exploded to a new level as Dr. K stretched it to its limit, his fingernails digging into the tender, blood-flushed knob. Karen jerked her legs in and planted her heels on the doorframe, pushing her crotch desperately upwards to lessen the tension. Her legs trembled with the strain, then her clit scraped free of his fingers and snapped back and she collapsed. He seized it again, stretching and twisting it over and over. "YIIIIIIII! AAAIIIEEEE! YEEEEOOOOWW!" Karen screamed and struggled, thrashing her tanned body from side to side. The pain was unbelievable but still clinging to it, like a woman clinging to a tree in a tsunami, was the pleasure. The dark wave of her orgasm surged upwards with each stinging snap! of her clitoris as it slipped through Dr. K's fat fingers. It rose up over her, dimming her vision of the angry fat man, darkening the brilliant tropical sunshine pouring into the van. "OWWWWW, YOWWWW, NOOOO, NUHHHH, NUHHHH, NUHAAAIIIEEE!" She screamed as it broke over her. Every muscle in her preadolescent body went rigid. Her eyes clenched shut. Spittle sprayed from her mouth and the cords in her skinny neck stood out. Her bikini top cut into her wrists as her arms jerked against their bindings. Girl-cum squirted out of her gaping cunny, soaking her bald labia and her thighs and running down over her heaving abdomen. Some indeterminate time later, Karen came back to herself as the strongest wave of orgasmic spasms receded. Her body was on fire with pleasure. "Ooooooh," she moaned as her vaginal muscles twitched and clenched. Hot spikes of delicious agony shot through her. Her vulva glowed with heat and her battered clitoris throbbed and pulsed. Her elbow joints protested as the strained muscles in her arms contracted. But a beatific smile spread across her oval face, framed in her tangled, sweat-soaked blonde hair. "Thank you, God...ah! Oh! Guhhh!" she choked and writhed, her words distorted by involuntary cries of pleasure as a steady beat of orgasmic shocks battered her pubescent body. She opened her eyes and through tear-blurred vision she saw Dr. K. staring down at her with disgust. "I was wrong," he declared. "You are a whore. A filthy, disgusting whore. But I can fix you. I'm sorry, but it has to be done." He had something shiny in his hand. Karen blinked sweat and tears from her eyes. As her vision cleared, she saw it. A knife. It looked small, almost swallowed in his fat palm, but the blade was curved and wicked. Karen froze at the sight. Or she tried to, but her traitorous body shuddered through a fresh wave of orgasmic contractions even as terror filled her. Then another, stronger shock as Dr. K seized her clitty again, this time grabbing it right at the root. The distended bud bulged around his fingers as he pulled, hard. "This is the best way, Karen. You'll thank me for it. Now, you'll feel a little sting." And he giggled. Everything went into slow motion in Karen's head. There was a roaring in her ears as she realized what Dr. K was about to do. Somehow, the fear faded, replaced by a distant sadness, an icy calm and a rush of tumbling thoughts. "I won," was in there, and "I am so a whore," and "My uncle was wrong, I'm not going to grow up," and over all of those, "It's going to be over. Thank you, God, for taking it away." And still her body trembled and twitched as her overwhelmed nervous system vibrated with sexual pleasure. * * * When I saw the knife I knew things had gotten out of hand. I stood up from behind the bush where I'd concealed myself after the fat man had pulled my niece into the van, and hurled a dirt clod at the windshield. His head jerked up at the impact. I smiled and waved and held my camera out, plainly pointing it at the tableau of the fat man with his knife poised over a naked child. His eyes and mouth went comically wide in shock - for a second he looked like that bald, light-bulb-head guy in the Dutch painting. The knife went flying, he grabbed Karen's skinny, thrashing legs, and then things got very busy inside that van. * * * Karen's head was spinning, literally. She had braced herself for the agony to come when there was a hard "thump!" and a spray of dirt against the van's windshield. The next thing she knew Dr. K was thrashing around himself. He tossed the knife away and ripped her bound wrists free of the door handle. Then his hands clamped around her waist, yanking her up in the air. Then somehow she was flying through the open window, sky and pavement whirling around her. Her open shirt flew up over her head. She put out her hands, wrists still bound together, to break her fall. Her palms and knees skidded over the hot pavement. Fresh pain bloomed as the skin peeled off. Behind her the van's engine roared. Gravel stung her naked back, her skinny ass and the backs of her legs as tires spun and the van peeled out and sped away. Karen's breath left her in a high-pitched whistling groan as her belly twitched and her cunt pulsed with yet another spasm. Her poor preadolescent brain was so swamped with conflicting sensations that the pain of her skinned hands and knees against the burning hot pavement boosted her continuing orgasm to ever-greater heights. Her thigh muscles gave out and her knees splayed open, sliding apart frog-like. Her gaping vulva and her grotesquely distended clitoris pressed against the broiling asphalt. Her groan turned into a long, sobbing wail as her body reached its limits. The most powerful convulsion yet took her and her eyes rolled back in her head. She collapsed face-down and lay still. A puddle of urine spread beneath her. * * * I stepped to stand over over the fifth-grader as she lay twitching on the scorching pavement, naked except for the dirty shirt thrown over her head. Little black pebbles peppered her tan skin. I grabbed the child under her smooth armpits and pulled her to her feet. She was a mess. Her palms and knees were bleeding. Her nipples and stomach were smeared with dirt and oil. Her belly, her hair, her face were all wet with urine and her shirt was soaked with it. Her face was swollen from crying. Her eyes were puffy, her lips were dry and cracking. Her mound was scraped and abraded and her clitoris was so reddened for a moment I was afraid it was bleeding as well. I held Karen upright with one arm around her shoulder. She swooned, dirty, wet blond hair falling over her face. I quickly untied her wrists with my free hand and I dropped the ruined bikini top on the ground. I pulled the piss-soaked shirt down to cover her grimy nakedness. I bent and picked her up, cradling her tight little ass in my hands. Urine soaked into my shirt and shorts and the moist heat of her cunt warmed my own crotch. She seemed barely conscious - her head lolled against my shoulder, her hands and feet swung limply. Her tangled hair hid her face and tickled my cheek. She stank. I could feel her shuddering and crying and fighting for breath as she regained consciousness. I murmured sounds of comfort in her ear as I walked. I took the long way to Moira's junker, around the perimeter of the lot, to avoid the other beachgoers. I could mostly conceal her disheveled nakedness by holding her barely-pubescent body pressed tightly against me, but I could do nothing to hide the rank odor of urine and the sharp, slightly pungent tang of her weeping preteen sex. Nor could I conceal her bloodied palms and knees or her involuntary gasps and moans as the last aftershocks of her climax slowly faded. We finally reached the car and I dumped Karen in the back seat. I wrestled her out of Moira's ruined shirt and tenderly brushed gravel off her naked body. I used the least filthy parts of the shirt to wipe off the worst of the dirt and the piss. I made a quick phone call. As I was untangling the damp wad of her abandoned swimsuit she groaned and her eyes opened. She pressed one hand gingerly against her mound and winced, whimpering in pain. "Hi, sweetie," I said. "Are you ok?" I pressed my hand over hers, feeling the heat rising from her ravaged vagina. "You did great. You earned a whole hundred dollars! I'm so proud of you, that was exactly the right way to handle that bad man. You are such a smart little whore!" I continued to praise her fulsomely, trying to crowd out the fresh terror of her near-mutilation. Karen's eyes were vacant and her face was filled with pain, but she repeated "I'm a whore," with something approaching satisfaction. She propped herself on one elbow to look down at her scraped, dirty naked body. Her fingers gingerly traced the raw flesh of her hairless labia. She winced again as she dislodged a sharp little pebble pressing into the side of her clitoris. "Oh, it stings," she whispered. Her voice was strained and rough. "Oh, my babycunt. Oh, ow, it hurts, geez, it hurts." She shifted on the seat and whimpered again, turning on her side and drawing up her knees. Her thumb went to her mouth as if she were four instead of eleven and her eyelids drifted closed. "Hey, stay awake, sweetie, you have to get dressed again. Your sister and Moira will be here in a second. We'll go get some band-aids for you, and then we'll all go in the water one more time to get cleaned up. We'll tell Mommy and Daddy you tripped in the parking lot, okay? You'll be fine, we want you to be all better for your party next week." Karen's eyes opened and she lifted her head slightly. "...my party?"