("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `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. -------------------------------------------------------- The Costume by Dudester (address withheld) *** When a lifelong bachelor hires a young teen girl from another country as a part time maid, it sets forth a series of unpredictable events. (Mf, ped, rom, v) *** Author's Note: I wrote this story after reading a story about an Iraqi girl in Phoenix Arizona, killed by her father because she had become "Americanized". Her piece of filth father couldn't deal with her blossoming as a woman. She even tried leaving home and living with a friend, but the crazed father tracked her down and ran over her with his SUV. He even backed over her to make sure the job was finished. His lawyer tried that "Things justified under Sharia law" crap, but a jury didn't buy it. This past week, the father was sentenced to 34 years in prison. The following is entirely a work of fiction. It was written purposely for the entertainment of adult readers. This type of fiction should never be read by minors. Readers of this type of fiction should never try to copy the actions within, lest they look forward to a very long jail sentence, followed by a life of forced poverty. This story contains graphic descriptions of sex between a young teen female and a grown man. If this type of behavior offends you, read no further. If this type of material is illegal where you live, please stop now and go away. *** The inheritance came at just the right time. After a harrowing year at work (what we in church call "good for the pocketbook, bad for the soul" ), I had a healthy bank account. It was then that a lawyer found me and told me that I inherited my Cousin's estate. The estate sits on 4.1 acres. The one story house has a large circular drive, three car garage, a workshop (complete with tools and machinery), storage building, and a shed for landscaping equipment. Soon after I moved in, I started a part time business making custom parts for toys. The business soon went full time. Soon after that, a cop approached me with some metal working ideas. I was busy and content. It was right about that time that old man Hosenhaufer died. Hosenhaufer had an aged house with 1.5 acres on its eastside. When Hosenhaufer's son took over the property, he sold it to a business that turned around and sold it to a local charity. The charity subdivided it into five pieces and allowed some low income folk to move their trailers on the lots. My apprehension subsided when I found out that the trailers contained working poor whose worst habit was bringing shopping carts home. I even hired one of the residents, a mechanic, to do my landscaping. I even slipped him a few extra bucks to take the shopping carts back to the store, which kept our cul de sac from becoming shabby. It was the trailer next to his, which caught my attention. From what I could tell, the trailer housed a middle aged woman and a girl who looked about eleven or twelve. Being a pedophile has a lot of drawbacks. One of the drawbacks is looking, and lusting-which is all you can do, unless you want to go to prison. I imagined several types of romantic encounters with her, almost to the point of distraction, but common sense brought me back. She became pretty much a distant distraction, until I nearly tripped over her. I had been washing my car. I had the hose stretched out and was running it around the car when I heard a squeal. I hadn't even seen her enter the property. She had approached me from behind, but my backpedaling led to me almost running into her. Upon hearing her squeal I turned and saw her up close-for the first time. She stood a hair over five feet with a thick head of coal black hair. Her skin coloring was a very light mocha coloring. She had a doll's like appearance with large doe like eyes, a tiny nose, and large "bee stung" lips. Her frame, like the petite features of her face, was tiny in many respects. Her chest was nearly flat, with two tiny bumps where her breasts should be was wrapped in a skin tight T shirt. Her waist, likewise, was tiny , wrapped in skin tight jeans. "Hello?" I said. "Hello," she replied. "Can I help you?" "Mike told me that he does extra work for you. I was wondering if you had any extra work that I can do ?" "What can you do?" "I can clean, wash, iron... you know, stuff." "Umm...okay. There's a broom in the corner of the garage. It can use a good sweeping." She smiled and made straight for the broom. Much to my surprise, she did a fantastic job, proving that she was detail oriented. I let her join in on the car, where her skill level made my car look like it had been detailed. I gave her a ten, which made her light up. That evening, hours after she had left, I made up my mind to let her detail my house. My kitchen needed it's floor scrubbed and my bathroom was in need of a scrubbing as well. It would be two days later when I saw her next. She was coming out of her trailer. She smiled and waved. I waved her over. She looked around first, then, walked over. I told her what I needed done. She told me that she had to check first. She went home and returned a half hour later. I let her in and she went to work on my kitchen. I went into my office and sorted through some emails and receipts. A little while later she came in and asked for more cleaning supplies. I tried to show here where they were stored, but she made me tell her where they were stored. She then disappeared and returned nearly an hour later. Ushering me into the kitchen, she surprised me with a sparkling room with a very clean smell. I complimented her. She thanked me, then with a smile, she held out her hand. I paid her twenty bucks. "I'll come back tomorrow and clean your bathroom." She soon became my full time maid and the upside for me was having company around. With her being over fulltime, she became comfortable enough to be in various stages of dress. Once, while cleaning my bathroom, she stripped down to a tiny skin tight T shirt and panties, that way, she wouldn't dirty her clothes. I also began to find out who she was, and her home life. Her name is Noor, and her parents were from Kurdistan. Early in her life, her father had left to take up arms against the Iranians, but he had never returned. Her mother had moved her around to protect them against a fear that Iranians in the US would try to kill them. It was mind boggling to me. The charity that had sold them the trailer (and land) had sold the package for cheap, and filed the paperwork under an assumed name. Soon after school started, I saw a man appear at their trailer. A few days later, when he shot me a dirty look, I asked about him. Noor told me that he was her Uncle and he was giving orders at her house. He had originally ordered her not to come over, but when she showed him the money that she was making, he relented. It was also at this time that Noor started spending more time over at my place. We started sharing dinner several nights a week. Prior to dinner, she would sit next to me on the couch, and a couple of times, she even leaned in and seemed to be cuddling. Parts of me wanted to hug her, kiss her, and make love to her, but fear of prison kept me from stepping over the line. One day, after school, she came over excited about Halloween. This year was the first time that she had gone to a public school and she had never been out to trick or treat, for fear of being found out by the Iranians her mother feared. She told me that she wanted to wear an Alice in Wonderland costume (even though she wasn't blonde or porcelain skinned) and she feared that her mother wouldn't buy her the costume. I volunteered to buy it and the look of joy on her face was all the thanks I needed. The hug, and peck on my lower lip, that followed was not only hard to follow up, but very much appreciated. That night, I went online and ordered her costume. Two weeks later, the costume arrived. She tried it on and modeled it for me. I finally had an excuse to take pictures of her. Although my inner self wanted to say, "Okay, now take it off-slowly," I only had her pose in ways that could pass muster in a Sears magazine. Later, she took the dress home, but not before giving me another hug. The day of Halloween, things took a very ugly turn. Noor came over in tears. Her Uncle had seen the dress and he shredded it with scissors while ranting about honor. Noor held me, tight, and cried tears of shame and rage. The man part of me wanted to punch the self righteous asshole right in the face. The pedo part of me made friends with the civilized part of me and came up with a plan. We left my house and after a quick stop at the bank, we went to an upscale department store. In the dress and accessory section, I found a harried middle aged saleswoman trying to tend to a pack of spoiled rotten older teen girls. When the woman made a few seconds for us, I discretely pressed a pair of hundreds into her hand and told her that I would pay all store costs, plus commission, if she could turn Noor into the most ravishing Princess ever, in the next couple of hours. I gave the woman my business card, and left Noor in her hands. Two hours later, when I returned to the store, Noor was breathtaking. She had a light blue sequined gown and tiara. Makeup had been applied in a subtle way. Noor was all smiles and I got another hug. The saleswoman presented me with a bill of over five hundred, but it was very much worth it. I then took Noor to the affluent neighborhoods in town. Because it was a first time experience, she didn't grow weary of the fact that trick or treating was work. The compliments she got on her dress made her light up. All in all, it was a very rewarding night for her. When we got back to my place, she thanked me again. The kiss that followed was full on the lips, warm, and moist. My little friend rose to attention. I broke the kiss with a smile and almost fatherly squeeze of her upper arms. I responded to her quizzical look with a "Let's take some pictures" offer. I took out the camera had her pose for me. Again, I had to put down the little monster in me that wanted to tell her to unzip. After our photo session, she changed clothes, leaving the dress with me, but taking the candy with her. The next to last act played out the next morning. Every morning, I go out for breakfast. I was in my garage and getting in my car, when I caught motion out of the corner of my eye. My turn to the left kept the baseball bat from caving my skull in, but it still made contact with my right shoulder. Caught off guard, I was able to duck and catch Noor's Uncle in the midsection with my left shoulder. He kneed me in the chest and we began to wrestle. After a minute of wrestling, he made the mistake of throwing me out of the garage. I landed in the driveway, spun to my left, then I was able to charge him. I pinned him to the wall of the house, punched him in the solar plexus, then punched him in the nuts. He grabbed my ears, but I grabbed him by the waist, lifted him off of his feet, and slammed him to the ground. He hit the ground with a plop, and stopped moving. As I caught my breath, I saw a pool of blood start to spread out from his head. The thought then hit me that Noor might be in danger. I ran across the street. As I neared her front door, I heard a scream. Adrenaline took over. I nearly ripped the door off its hinges as I ran in the trailer. I heard another scream and ran down the hall. Through an open door, I saw something that made my blood run cold. Noor was face down and tied to the bed. She was wearing only panties. Her back and thighs were covered with welts and blood. Her mother stood over her with a wooden rod. Her mother turned towards me and raised the rod. Acting of its own accord, my right hand punched her dead in the face. She flew across the room, slammed into the wall, and fell to the floor. I untied a sobbing Noor, and tried to be gentle with her. I helped her to her feet, and handed her a sheet to cover herself. I took her outside and called 911. In several minutes, Police cars, two ambulances, and a fire truck crowded my street. I spent over two hours answering questions. Noor and her family were taken to the hospital. Later that day, her Uncle and Mother were arrested and booked on a series of charges. I went to the hospital and kept vigil for Noor. A Social Worker came by and asked a series of questions. Later, she told me that Protective Services would take custody of Noor, until something could be worked out. I then went to the Police Department and sought out some help. Sergeant Earl Davis had become something between a friend and brother. He had been among those who had questioned me this morning. I asked him if he could intervene with social services. He assured me that he would, but he asked me to let him handle everything. Two days later, Davis came over with the social worker to look at my home. I had dishes in the sink, but aside from that, my home had that fresh smell that Noor had left everywhere. The Social Worker then asked me about being a temporary foster parent. Davis winked and I went along without becoming emotional. Later that day, Davis told me that nearly the entire Police Department had intervened for me. He also told me to be at the hospital at five in the afternoon. I was also told that Noor's family had made bail and had fled the state. I hadn't even noticed their comings and goings, I had been fortifying my home. Besides an alarm system, I had put in several cameras, and I bought a dog. That evening, Noor was released to me. Her face lit up when she saw me. Our hug was broken by the fact that her backside was in pain. I gently took her home and settled her in my guest room. That night though, just after bedtime, she came in my room, telling me that she was afraid to be alone. I reluctantly welcomed her to my bed. Wearing a robe, she sat on the edge of the bed. She told me how she had learned that her Uncle was on the loose and she was afraid that he'd try to hurt her again. I assured her that she was safe with me, and that I'd take her to and from school to make sure. She then stood and took off the robe. She was completely naked. She climbed into my bed. Laying on her side, facing me, she asked if I loved her. "Of course I do," I said. She smiled and placed a hand on my neck. Caressing me she said:"In my home country, girls as young as nine are married to older men. I know this country doesn't allow that, but I can be your wife, in all but name." "Noor, I love you," I responded, "but if you ever told anyone that I saw you naked, or touched you, I could go to prison for a very long time." "I wouldn't want that." "Then, we can't share a bed, or kiss, or anything like that." "What if I never tell anyone ?" I looked her in the eye and I realized that she needed to cling to me. She had lost her family. If I sent her from my bed, she might go into an unrecoverable spiral. I leaned in and kissed her. She grabbed me and held me tight. We made out and she rubbed against me. One of her hands found my very stiff dick. My underwear seemed to frustrate her efforts to grab me. I started easing my jockeys off. She took over and pulled my underwear off. Placing her hand on my dick, she seemed confused what to do with it. I pulled her to me and had her lay on top of me. Placing my dick between her legs, I started to give her an idea. After wrestling my dick with her crotch for about ten minutes, I had her mount my mid section. She got the idea and tried to insert me in her. She was quite small, but eventually, the head of my dick went in her. She was grimacing, but it was all I needed. My magic spot is right under the head of my dick. Wiggling her hips for a while, I built to a climax and came in her. The entire thing was puzzling to her. I told her that eventually, I would fit entirely in her. First, though, I would buy and keep a stock of condoms available. She nestled into me and fell asleep in my arms. Two nights later, the final act played out. *** The barking of my guard dog woke everyone. Noor and I awoke and looked out the front window. Noor's trailer was on fire. I thought about calling 911, but I saw flashing lights and people starting to gather in the street. I thought about going outside, but then thought the fire might be a distraction. I looked up Davis's cell number and I woke him. After telling him my thought, he agreed and he had half a dozen cops search my estate. Meanwhile, I checked my DVR. I have a camera that faces my front gate. Coincidentally, Noor's trailer and another are in the frame. A replay of the night showed Noor's Uncle and Mother torching the trailer. The camera also had a good shot of the car. A description was put out, and by dawn they were in custody. The District Attorney's office did a brilliant job. Getting Noor's Mother and Uncle to plead guilty to arson, and accepting twenty years, the other charges were dropped. By the time they got out of prison, Noor would be an adult, and best of all, she wouldn't have to relive the torture by testifying in court. Noor turned 16 last week. We married in Brazil and because of extra courses, she'll graduate from high school in May. The End If you like the story, check out my website at: /~dude/PTandTeen.html ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author does not condone the described behavior in real life in anyway shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any of the scenarios in this story; should seriously consider seeking professional help. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Kristen's collection - Directory 70