("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2011. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- Beauty of Frustration by Phil Phantom (pp@philphantom.com) *** Christen, fourteen, virgin, never been kissed sexually, had a gentlemen friend, a bachelor who lived alone in a studio loft. Her mother knew and approved because Harland Sweetwater was a sweet and gentle man, a good influence on Christen, who needed a male mentor who was also a painter, sculptor, photographer, poet, and general all-around interesting, cultured, and well- traveled man. (M/f-teen, ped, 1st, rom) *** Christen absolutely adored the man she called Har. After two weeks, she found the man she wanted to give her cherries too, all three of them, no question, no reservation. Har soon realized that fact. A bitch in heat is a bit more subtle. One day, he set his brushes aside and looked her over as a man might look over a woman - or horse he were considering adding to his stable. That made her blush. Har never did that. He asked her to stand before him and turn slowly. She stood and turned slowly, feeling his eyes on her bare legs. When she again stood facing him, she appeared flushed and said, "See something you like?" "Christen, do you trust me? I mean, really, really trust me?" "Yes. I really, really, really do trust you, Har." "Enough to take your clothes off - every stitch?" "YES!" "Please do." She did, like a stripper do... sorta. She removed her clothes teasingly - no music - no bumps - no grinds, but she didn't simply take off clothing items. She removed them for one man and showed that one man what she had not been doing a very good job of hiding fully dressed. Panties were not among the clothing items that needed to be removed, nor was there a bra, slip, panty hose, shoes, or socks. She enjoyed padding about his warm loft barefoot. Fact is, she pulled off the pull-over dress, but slowly. *** Nude, she again stood before him, only now she seemed a bit unsure, a bit shy with her hands held to cover her pussy. He got to see her cute little "quim," but she didn't want him to stare at her "quim" - cunt neither. She wasn't ready for that. Pussy was okay, but no way would she spread her legs and let him gawk at her cunt, quim, cunny, or other funny Olde English term for the part females breed and bleed through - fuck that shit! Har looked her over and had her do another turn, which made her cottontail funny fanny blush. When she came back around, she had a blushing chest with erect nipples, the button type on a set of firm twin A's' - his AA Energizer Bitch Bunny, batteries not included - cute kid. Har said, "Do you trust me enough to tie your hands behind your back?" She swallowed hard then said in a rather mousy, unsure voice, conveying all the confidence that mice have in cats, "yes." Har had her face away and put her arms behind her back. He found some cotton sash cord and bound the wrists and the elbows. He picked up a 35mm camera and had her turn around. When she saw the camera being trained on her defenseless crotch, she felt very vulnerable and naked. She looked cold as he surveyed her through the view finder, then brought the camera down to say, "Don't you trust me?" "Well, yes." "Could you try to show that you trust me and demonstrate that you are not worried about me safeguarding any pictures I may take?" She gulped and stood straight, forced herself to relax and not crouch as he viewed her crotch and made the camera flash. He took several, then had her turn profile, then back to him, then leaning forward - flash - step out - flash - step wider, far forward, now, head resting on the floor, step wider, wider - flash - flash - flash. Posing got a little easier, but then he knelt at her ass to look down on her face to say, "Christen, do you know what a beaver is?" "Uh...one of these right-side-up?" "I'd like to see a good one, on the coffee table - assuming you trust me." "A beaver, huh. Do you mean a wide beaver?" "I'd like a good beaver, yes." "You want pictures of my wide beaver?" "A few." She gulped, looked at the coffee table, looked up to Har, then to the camera zooming on her asshole, then went to her knees and made her way over, and with Har's assistance, she reclined on her back as he got in position to capture a good beaver on his knees, which was also a great position to fuck her in since he had his long, thick, hard cock out. She had to remind herself that fucking was what she wanted. She just pictured it differently. She pictured lovemaking in a bed under covers. She never pictured pictures of good beavers and butt holes, but she made a good beaver, and holding it through many flashes killed her, but she held the widest she could hold until she noticed him with a hard dick in his hand, nosing her in the beaver. His dick was much bigger than she thought it might be, and had far less condom on it than she was sure it would - none in fact - raw cock nosing her in the trusting quim while bound and helpless. Christen felt stupid and she felt fucked. Har saw her deep concern etched in worry lines, stood, put himself away, helped her up, untied her, handed her the camera, and said, "Open it up and expose the film." She didn't need to be told twice. With the film exposed, she set the camera down and looked to Har, now perched back on his painting stool, smiling like a cat who was through toying with the mouse but wasn't hungry. She said, "Why did you do that?" "To show you that you can trust some men, but you can never trust you, and some who could otherwise be trusted can turn untrustworthy if a lovely thing like you can't control herself. Christen, you dodged a bullet, kid. I'm one of the few who could go that far and pull back, and sweetheart, that was not easy. You are a very lovely, very sexy young lady, and far too trusting I might add." Christen plopped her sexy young lady ass down in a chair and did not sit like a lady as she said, "I am also a very horny young lady, Har, in case you haven't noticed." "I understand that, Christen. Believe me. I do notice those things." "I know you do and you get hard. Why won't you fuck me? Do I have to beg?" "You have been. I'm sorry, Christen, but I don't fuck children. You need to learn that you don't get to fuck anyone you want to fuck." Christen looked away in frustration, then back to say, "If you are worried about my mom, she wouldn't care. In fact, she thinks we are. All she wanted to know was were we using protection. I assured her we were. She figured we were. She's happy for me. I could spend the night with you, Har. I could spend all weekend with you - all week. She trusts you absolutely. She doesn't even ask what we do. For all she knows, you are the biggest pervert in the state, into child porn, selling child pussy, all sorts of kinky shit." "That's interesting. How does that make you feel?" "Here we go with the feelings again. It makes me feel fucking horny, Har. I have a license to do anything, and I'm not doing a fucking thing except doing me to the point of boredom. I am so tired of fucking me, and I am so easy, I have no respect for myself in the morning, noon, afternoon, night. I tried the doggie biscuit between the shoulder blades to get a dog to mount me, but they just come up, lick my face, eat my biscuit, and lift their leg on me. I keep going from bad to worse - now this - rejected by my own kind who wants to know how I feel. I feel horny, Har, very horny with no self esteem or will to live. Other than that, I feel fine. How do you feel?" "Sounds more like frustration than horny." Christen hung her legs over the arms of the chair, scooted her butt to the forward edge, and presented him with another good beaver in a sitting sprawl position as she said, "Look at this pussy, Har. This is good, tight, virgin pussy going to waste. That in itself is a crying shame, but this wasted pussy is between my fucking legs twenty-four/seven. Am I frustrated? Yes, I'm frustrated, and so are you. Tough shit. I'm not putting it away. If you won't fuck it, you're gonna look at it." "Sweetheart, I am not complaining, and I will never ask you to get dressed and put that beautiful beaver away. I am into things of rare beauty. Even your sexual frustration is a thing of rare beauty. Any girl as beautiful and as sexy as your are should never go wanting for sex, yet here your are, aching - beautiful, absolutely beautiful. Open the lips and show me how much you ache, but don't masturbate. I forbid you to masturbate. I know you want to. Don't you dare spoil the beauty. Open the lips, Christen, open the lips." Christen pulled open the lips and cried, "You fucker! Oh you sadistic bastard!" Putting up a new canvas, he said, "Hold that pose. I must capture this. Christen, oh baby, you weep in the slit. Oh you, gorgeous doll. Weep for me my unused Lolita!" "Har, don't do this to me. This isn't funny." "Learn to suffer the sweet agony of sacrifice." "Fuck sacrifice. I need to get laid." "Beautiful! Absolutely fucking beautiful. That aching fuck hole of yours is the core of your beauty right now, my sweet petite with dainty feet." "That fuck hole ain't a fuck hole until someone with a dick fucks it. Right now, it's just a fucking hole between a virgin's legs. This fucking hole is killing me, and I ain't your sweet petite with dainty feet. I'm your filthy bitch with dirty knees and a wet ass and two suffering wannabe fuck holes between her hind legs." "Suffer bitch! Oh, this is marvelous...simply fucking marvelous...and your mother thinks we're fucking. That's fucking beautiful, too." "What's so beautiful about that?" "A mother of a child your age should not want that, not with a man my age. I think that's bizarre and bizarre is beautiful." "I fail to see the bizarre. She wants me to be happy. She thinks fucking a man I care a great deal about, a man with a big dick, will put a permanent smile on my face. Silly me, I thought so, too." "Did you actually discuss fucking or did you allude to the act?" "We don't allude shit, whatever that means. We talk about fucking. We talk about sticking hard cocks in cunts and fucking them." "Am I a good fuck?" "She thinks you are." "Was she interested in the size of my cock?" "Yes, but I misled her. I didn't think you were that big. I thought you were only hung." "You had to know I was big. You've seen my desire for you." "Not out of your pants and poking me in the pussy. Those things look much bigger when they are poking you in the virgin pussy." "Do I make you cum?" "Ten times a fuck." "I'm very good." "She was impressed. She doesn't cum easy, sometimes not at all - bummer." "Too often the case. The female orgasm in an illusive beast who must be corned and battered into submission." "Yeah, well she has a fleet-footed little fucker that gets away most of the time. She could help trap the little critter, but she can't bring herself to masturbate while having sex with a man - too self- conscious. I tell her she's nuts. I figure a guy would get off on that. What do you figure?" "You're asking the wrong guy. I like watching them suffer. I love watching a woman's frustration while I'm having my orgasm, then I pull out and love watching her cry." "You don't get a lot of repeat business, do you?" "Unfortunately, no. Most women hate my kind of sex. We tend to be loners." "I'm beginning to hate your kind of sex. Look, I'm drying out. Can I at least get me juicy again? The pink parts in pussy aren't supposed to get this much air time." "I'll use my dick. That should kill you." "Damn, Har, you are a cruel bastard, aren't you?" As he knelt with weeping dick in hand, he said while applying the slippery stuff to pink membranes, "I don't mean to be, but I am trying to capture the beauty of frustration. Once I capture that, you can masturbate." "God, this feels and looks great, Har. I wish you'd cram that whole cock up my cunt." "What, without a condom?" "Right now, I don't care." "What would Mommy say?" "She never said I had to use protection. She just wanted to know if we did. I told her we did because I wanted her to think you were a responsible man, but as it turns out, she doesn't care. She doesn't care what kind you are, so long as you are fucking the shit out of me." "You have a kinky mommy." "Tell me about it, and getting kinkier all the time." "How so?" "Like not having to go home or even call home to say I won't be home. She wanted me to tell you that. She doesn't want you to feel the need to ask or even tell her how long you plan to keep me. She wanted me to make sure you understood. She wants to wait without knowing, and you are killing me, you pathetic, loner, poet, painter person." He stood and said, "That should hold you for a while." "You almost made me cum, you know." After getting back on his perch, he said, "Damnit, Christen, you should have said something. This is serious work." "Sorry, but I need to cum. This isn't fun." "I'm not trying to capture fun. I am trying to capture the beauty of sexual frustration. I take my work seriously. I expect you to." "You expect a lot." "I'm not holding you here. You come and go as you please, but if you stay, you stay on my terms. On my terms, I decide when you get sexual relief. I said you could masturbate - when I say. I did not say you could cum. If you cum without first obtaining permission, I will send you home and bar you for one week. Is that understood?" "Yes." He did some painting, then said, "You know, I think we are beginning to understand each other. Few women ever do. The few who do refuse to accept it. You catch on quick and accept it. I'm very impressed with you, Christen, and you do suffer so beautifully for me. I do appreciate that. I see your pain. I am capturing that." "I'm glad my pain and suffering isn't going to waste." "Not at all....Your mother intrigues me. Bizarre people intrigue me. She is rather bizarre. Do you see her that way?" "She is different, but I don't see bizarre. This latest thing is a bit kinky, but not too. She trusts you in that she sees no harm coming to me by giving you a totally free hand. I think it's mostly that she wants you to fuck me as much as you want, and that's something I want. We both want it, so she took a chance. She knows where I am. It's not like you are likely to take me anywhere and share me with a bunch of dirty old men. You never go anywhere and don't know any." "I do. I could. Suppose I did. Have you talked about that?" "Yes. She swears she won't withdraw the offer under any circumstances." "Do you believe that?" "Who knows, but I believe she wants the risk. I know she wanted me to make sure that you understood that totally free meant totally free with no strings attached." "You just defined bizarre." "I did if the worst happens and she sticks to it." "What's the worst?" "Who knows, but she'll never see me again. The worst for her will be never knowing and having to imagine." "Your mother is dangerous, Christen. She is bizarre, but another word for that type of bizarre is sick. If she keeps this up, sooner or later, you'll end up with the wrong guy and wind up in the hands of the wrong people. There are some sick motherfuckers out there, just praying for an offer like that. "You can trust some men, but you can never trust you, sweetheart. One day, you'll find yourself bound on a carving table surrounded by ghouls with sharp knives, snips, and pliers, and they are not closing it to clip your nails or film your beaver. Snuff is big business. Little cuties like you are snuff bait. Mothers like your mother put the bait on the hook and go trolling." "Okay, so what do I do about it?" "You confront her and discuss this. If she won't get help, get out of there." "She won't and I can't leave her." "It's your ass." "To be perfectly honest, this isn't much better. Both are forms of torture. At least snuff has an ending." "Is it that bad? Honestly, is this torture?" "Yes." "Then why don't you put your legs down, put your clothes on, go home and masturbate?" "For one, Mom will know I have been lying to her. This has been a major thrill for her. She lives for my fuck stories. I tell a great fuck story. I can imagine great sex. She'd be crushed." "I've captured your frustration, but I'm not into torture. I am going to fuck you, Christen, fuck you and cum in your fertile and unprotected pussy. I think I'll keep you and share you with a few safe child molesters who are into photography and knocking up little girls. I'll let you go home from time to time so that mommy can know what life is like for a sex slave." By this time, he was on his knees with the head of his cock pushed inside the lips, hands firmly on her hips, ready to take the plunge as he said, "How would that life suit you?" "Suits me just fine, and suits my mom even better. She doesn't want me snuffed. I'm sure of that, but she'd love it if I ended up being passed around by a bunch of child molesters. I know she was hoping you'd want a sex slave. I know she is hoping you will accept me as a gift and keep me, but she also wants to know what you are doing to me. She'd like to hear it from me." "Well, tell her about this." With that, he sealed the deal, inch by inch while she watched and grimaced in ecstasy until he came in ecstasy and left her frustrated, holding her hands to keep her from masturbating...but then he let go and fucked hell out of her real quick. He wasn't such a bad sort after all, just bizarre. The End Read other stories by the same author by visiting Phantom Base at HTTP://PhilPhantom.Com CAUTION: Exercise caution and good sense before engaging in unsafe sex practices that involve any exchange of body fluid, even contact with open sores or small cuts. Scenes involving large objects, tattoos, bestial sex, body waste ingestion, bindings, devices and gadgets are the stuff of fantasy and are offered to promote the only safe sex there is - masturbation. Before you try anything, find out what the risks and hazards are because they can all be deadly. Read, enjoy, and remember - sex with minors should be left to other minors. PP *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* The author does not condone child abuse, this story is meant as an erotic fantasy not depicting anything in real life. Anyone acting out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in their local prison system. *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Kristen's collection - Directory 70