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Suzy's Story - 4 
by AnnaB (anna33bukowsky@gmail.com)

***

Suzy and Ruth plan the rape and abduction of their 
latest victim. (Ff, ped, nc, rp)

***

Author's Note: Hey please give me feedback, would 
especially love to hear from female readers. 
anna33bukowsky@gmail.com

***

PART FIVE

Had I ruined the only chance I'd been given to explore 
my fantasies? Was I being unrealistic in trying to make 
them happen as I wanted them to? Was I going to spend my 
life fantasising about abusing young girls, but only 
being able to occasionally molest one in a public 
toilet, or at Ruth's Council Home where the very 
environment shut down 75% of my desires?

The rest of the day went in a dull haze; I could feel a 
wave of depression coming over me and spent the daylight 
hours lying on the sofa just staring into space until, 
finally I dragged myself into the kitchen to fix a 
meagre sandwich to eat, then I went to bed and stared at 
the wall for hours.

The next morning I decided to return to Cardiff earlier 
than originally planned, I'd reached the point where I 
didn't really care what happened now; I wasn't going to 
hand myself in of course, but I no longer care if I did 
get caught for the Swansea assault I was feeling that 
wretched.

Still, I had enough about me to delay my return to 
Cardiff until the evening so I could drop the keys to 
the cottage back to the rental company after they'd 
closed. When I got back to my flat I rushed to the 
answering machine and was briefly elated to see the 
'message waiting' light flashing; was it Ruth with good 
news? I hardly dared hope but to my crushing 
disappointment it was 'only' my mother asking how I was.

The next day I gave a quick call to the rental company 
using the excuse of a fake family illness for my 
unexpected return but assuring them I'd loved the place 
and would use it again soon. As I put the phone down I 
wondered where that had come from. Did I know something 
deep down?

The rest of the week was a grey blur; I did nothing, 
went nowhere, fielded phone calls from my concerned 
mother (which I has to answer in case it was Ruth), but 
generally I felt I was slipping away from the world.

A few days later the phone went again; how I resisted 
the urge to pick it up and shout "For God's sake mother, 
I'm ok." I don't know – but I did, and I was glad I did.

"Suze, hon, how are you?"  I almost cried as I 
recognised Ruth's voice, luckily she didn't wait for me 
to reply. "I must speak to you at once, can I come 
round?"

"Um, sure" I mumbled glancing round the place I'd 
slobbed out in for a week, "Would you like to meet at 
the club?"

"Rather not, I'd like this to be just between us, I've 
got something for you." Her voice was almost electric 
with something. This tone in her voice seemed to re-
energise me and like an animal awakening from 
hibernation I felt myself coming back to life.

She appeared at my flat within half an hour (I marvelled 
at how she'd managed to remember its location given that 
she'd only dropped me off there once before but, not for 
the first time I'd underestimated her.) Ruth accepted my 
apologies for the state of the place with slightly less 
alacrity than she accepted the glass of wine I thrust 
into her hand as soon as I'd let her go from the huge 
hug I gave as she entered.

I indicated to her to sit on the sofa as I seated myself 
at the other end. Inwardly I was cursing for letting 
myself become such a slobbed out waster over the past 
week, (although I'd finally got properly dressed after 
Ruth called, my hair was a mess and my face showed 
definite signs of not enough sleep and too many tears.) 
Ruth would have to have been blind not to notice and she 
teased me affectionately about it.

"Hell, Suze, I didn't think you'd miss me that much" she 
said, smilingly, and I self-consciously looked away from 
her gaze because it was her absence (in a strange sort 
of way) that had provoked my descent into depression.

"Anyway," she briskly carried on, noticing my subdued 
manner, "good news, I've got the girl."

My brain still wasn't fully in gear, and very stupidly I 
replied. "What, is she in the car? But I haven't got the 
cottage booked." I nearly cried as the notion that Ruth 
had got our perfect victim when the situation wasn't 
set-up dawned on me. Ruth simply laughed and took a swig 
of her drink.

"Suze, I love you to bits, but sometimes you do have 
moments of incredible stupidity." I blushed and made 
flustered noises until she carried on. "Of course she's 
not in the car. It's far better than that. The question 
is can you get the cottage for this weekend?"

My heart sank; I couldn't believe my bad luck. I looked 
down at the floor as I replied. "Yea, I can get it 
almost certainly, but I know my period is due any day. 
I'm in no state to do anything when that happens."  Once 
again my heart felt like it was break; as soon as fate 
offered me my chance, she immediately whipped it away.

She leant forward and touched my knee. "Oh hon, I know 
what you mean. But don't despair; can you get it for the 
week after?"

Confused I nodded. "But will the girl still be around?"

Ruth sat back and grinned very wickedly. "Course she 
will, darling."

"But I thought it wasn't just going to be a girl from 
the Home?"

"Well, she is and she isn't. Suze, hon, what I'm about 
to tell you must go no further, understand?

Intrigued and excited I nodded my agreement.

Ruth carried on serenely. "Remember at the cottage when 
you talked about getting a girl to whom we could do 
anything we wanted?"

Like a rather dumb dog I nodded again.

"I knew then exactly who would be ideal."

Surprised by this, I sat upright. "So why didn't you 
tell me then? Why did you make me wait?" I blurted out 
indignantly.

"More of that later, Suze." She went on without breaking 
stride as it were. "Inside Social Services there are 
certain children who are what we call 'the lost ones'."

"We?"  I asked, my curiosity well and truly awakened.

"You don't think I'm the only person in our organisation 
who abuses the children in our care?" I could tell Ruth 
was teasing me now; her dominant personality was coming 
into its own. "There are a few of us in fairly high 
positions, and we know all about the children in our 
care. Most of them have simply had crap lives but have 
relatives who keep in touch so they can be abused but we 
can't do anything more with them."

"Aren't you afraid they'll talk? That's my biggest fear 
in this?"

"They may, but who'll believe them? They're just Care 
Home kids, people will assume they're just lying."  (She 
was right about that back in the early 80's), "But every 
so often there come some children who have no relatives, 
no one to wonder why they are no longer around. These 
are the ones we call 'the lost ones'."

"What happens to them?" I asked somewhat naively.

"They vanish. Not to put too fine a point on it we sell 
them. We're careful not to 'lose' too many from any 
particular Home so we spread them around, so to speak. 
Officially they're listed as absconded; kids run away 
from our sort of places all the time and the Police 
frankly aren't interested."

I actually felt my jaw drop as I listened to her; it was 
almost unbelievable, but I knew instinctively it was 
true. "Who do you sell them to?"

"The sex industry; there is an insatiable demand for 
young girls and boys and we're happy to provide it."

"They get turned into prostitutes?" I asked with a 
slight sense of arousal starting deep within me.

"I guess so, in truth I don't know the exact details, 
but I guess fucking comes into it quite a lot."

"Aren't you afraid one might get 'found' and reveal 
all?" Once again my deep seated fear expressed itself.

With just a hint of exasperation in her voice at my 
constant harping on about being found out Ruth tried to 
calm my fears. "Well, Suze, I've been selling them for 
10 years now and none of them have ever come back to 
haunt me. I've done quite well out of it truth be told, 
and I have a plan for just in case it all goes wrong. 
But I've very little to be afraid of."

"What happens to them in the end?" I asked, with a 
genuine sense of wonder.

"Don't know, don't care. As I said none of them have 
ever come forward so I'm guessing they don't retire with 
a pension. Because I run a Girl's Home I only supply 
girls, the boys come from Boy's Homes naturally."

"Wow" was my fairly pathetic response to all this, but 
Ruth didn't seem to mind.

"I tend not to get involved too deeply with them once 
they're sold. I did go once as a spectator, if you like, 
when I supplied a little 11 year old sweetie."

"What happened to her?"

"She was gang-raped by about a dozen middle aged men, it 
was fairly brutal." Ruth's voice was so matter of fact 
as she described it that she may as well have been 
talking about a trip to the corner shop.

"Did you join in?"

"No, 12 sweaty middle aged men getting naked and horny 
does nothing for me. I just watched. As I said it was 
brutal, and there was blood which I've never had a taste 
for. But when we talked at the cottage it dawned on me 
that we could have a bit of fun with the girl I've got 
lined up before my customers take receipt of her."

I spotted something odd in her statement. "But if you 
knew of this girl when we talked, why didn't you tell me 
then? I've been dying for a week." I began to get a bit 
outraged at Ruth's behaviour.

She held up a hand to pause my rant just as it was 
getting up steam. "Listen; remember I said I've very 
little reason to fear anything bad will happen? And that 
there is an insatiable demand for young flesh?" I 
nodded. "Well, the people I deal with don't want to get 
caught either, so they take out 'insurance' for want of 
a better word. You see, a lot of the men who abuse these 
young things are very respectable members of society – 
there is almost a direct correlation between the outward 
respectability of some of them and the depravity they 
subject the young kids too. Blackmail is a dirty word, 
but it's pretty accurate. 

"In return for the chance to indulge their darkest 
fantasies my customers use these people for protection. 
They pay for the chance to fuck a young boy or girl of 
course and because there is always a fresh supply 
they're pretty happy to protect the suppliers, whether 
it's by quashing any investigations or by discouraging 
journalists from looking into the county's Care Homes. 
All men are corruptible, Suze. Oh except your father of 
course."

"What do you mean by that?" The shock in my voice was 
genuine; what did my father have to do with this?

"Just that according to my sources your father is one of 
the most incorruptible businessmen in Wales, if not the 
UK."

Indignantly I spluttered my next question. "You've been 
checking up on my family?"

"Well, on you really Suze. The reason I was non-
committal at the cottage was that I needed to check 
whether you were under-cover or anything. One of my 
customers put me in touch with a very high ranking 
police officer who is a frequent abuser of little girls 
and he very kindly checked you out for me. He was very 
thorough, given that all I had was your telephone 
number. I didn't even know your surname or anything 
really but he got it all for me. How do you think I was 
able to find my way here again?" She was chuckling 
slightly now, but I was bewildered and shocked.

"I came up clean then I guess."

"Yep, you're one of us. Don't take my snooping badly 
Suze; you're always telling me what risks we're running. 
I was merely eliminating one of those risks."

I smiled slightly, I could see her reasoning; plus I'd 
cleared the inspection.

"So, Suze, if you can get the cottage for next weekend 
I'll tell the girl that she's moving to another Home on 
Friday evening and we'll come straight there. I'll tell 
my customers to pick her up from the cottage on Sunday 
evening, So we'll have the whole weekend to play with 
the little thing."

I cringed a bit. "Do your buyers have to come to the 
cottage, can't you meet them elsewhere?"

"Come on, Suze, what do you think they'll do, go to the 
police? I'd like you to meet them anyway, they're nice 
people."

It was strange how Ruth could use the word 'nice' to 
describe people who pimped out young children for sex to 
anyone with the money, but then, I reflected, I'd 
probably describe Ruth as 'nice', so I guessed it was 
just a way of separating 2 aspects of our lives.

"Yea, fair enough. Wow, a whole weekend to do whatever 
we want."

"A whole weekend with our own sex-toy. You can make her 
scream as much as you like."

I felt my pussy tingle in anticipation of the pain I was 
going to inflict on the unknown girl, and the amount of 
pleasure she was going to give me. "What's she like, 
then?"

"She's 13, nearly 14. She's called Charlotte. She's 
average looks, average build. Nice pair of tits for her 
age; I reckon they could take some abuse. She wears 
glasses and has long, black hair. I don't think she's a 
virgin as her file mentions some sexual abuse from an 
uncle in the past. She's actually a very outgoing, 
cheerful girl given the crap she's gone through"

My chance to deflower a virgin would have to wait for 
another day (although I was willing to bet her anal 
virginity was still intact), but otherwise she sounded 
perfect. My only dread was how I would get through the 
next 11 days without exploding. Still, it would give me 
plenty of time to plan my abuse.

"Have you ever been able to do whatever you want to a 
girl before?" I asked Ruth as something was telling me 
she was as excited and nervous as I was.

"Never had to, hon, I've got all the girls at the Home 
whenever I want them, but this plan is really starting 
to turn me on. Thing is, Suze, there aren't that many 
people like us in the world. The number of lesbians is 
small anyway, and so to find one who likes abusing and 
dominating young girls is much, much smaller."

"But you found Amanda and me, so we are out there, 
surely?"

"Yes, I did find you 2 and I love you both dearly for 
finding me too, but we are very few and far between. We 
can be found, but it can be a long, lonely life until 
then. After a while you'll spot them, but until them be 
prepared to be lonely."

I smiled at her reassuringly, "It's going to be the 
greatest experience of our lives."

It would have been tempting to spend the rest of the 
time until Charlotte came to stay just lying in bed 
frigging myself to exhaustion but I knew things had to 
be done.

First off (and this was probably the most crucial thing) 
the cottage had to be booked. Luckily for us (and 
unluckily for Charlotte) it was free for that weekend 
and I hurried along to the company's office to secure 
the booking. The receptionist was a stunningly pretty 
girl in her late teens and I was so distracted by 
thoughts of having her there too as a sex toy that I 
completely ignored her as she went through the booking 
details. 

I broke out of my reverie and stammered an apology, my 
face reddening and I just wanted to wipe the amused 
smirk of her face. I think, seeing as she was that sort 
of girl, that she knew most people (of both genders) 
fancied her but she could have no idea of the exact 
nature of my lust for her.

I left the building and started homewards, then was 
struck by an idea. I took a longer route than normal so 
I could visit a shop that supplied equestrian equipment. 
Feigning ignorance about the subject (which wasn't 
difficult) I went in and enquired about buying a riding 
crop. The woman behind the counter, a real battle-axe in 
her 50's asked who it was for and I blurted out my 13 
year old niece.

The selection she showed me all looked quite small and 
when I pointed this out she replied that this was the 
ideal size for the horses girls that age would be 
riding. I hummed and hawed, trying to think of a way of 
getting hold of a larger one and in the end fell back on 
the excuse that I'd prefer a full adult version as my 
niece was quite big for her age so her horses were 
bigger, plus it would be nice if my sister could use it 
too.

The woman looked at me with an odd, yet understanding 
look and finally produced the mean strip of toughened 
leather I'd been after. She gave me an even more knowing 
look when she saw my delighted reaction. I thought of 
Ruth's words about how few of us there are in the world 
and suspected this woman might be one of us. 10 years 
later I would have had the self-assurance to try and 
lead her on, but at that stage I was too inexperienced 
and I meekly paid my money and left with the crop.

Outside I was struck by the cover story I'd used. My 
niece? My sister? All that silly girl wanted to do was 
get married and have kids. But then, I thought, if she 
did give me a niece what an opportunity that would be.

I was in a real dilemma for the rest of the countdown to 
our great adventure; I was really horny but didn't want 
to risk another fiasco like in Swansea so had to resort 
to fantasies. I'd drive miles into the hills and valleys 
of South Wales; sometimes I'd even swing past the 
cottage just to make sure it hadn't burnt down or 
something. 

Sometimes in the afternoon I'd see girls coming home 
from school, sometimes singly sometimes in groups or 
pairs but always so temptingly pretty in their short 
school skirts. I think it was around that time that I 
first began to seriously think about the mechanics of 
kidnapping a girl; how would I subdue her? Would I need 
to? 

Perhaps I could just lure her away, after all children 
are always told not to talk to strangers but the 
strangers most people have in mind are male, very few 
girls expect the nice, pleasant woman offering them a 
lift to avoid the rain that always seems to fall here to 
be a depraved abuser of young bodies.

One of the waiting days I was parked in a small town, 
ostensibly reading a paper but really secretly lusting 
after the girls walking by. Two passed my car deep in 
conversation, they were about 15 I'd say and as I 
watched them move away from my car I began to fantasise 
about abducting both of them together, over the next few 
weeks and months I'd brood on this theme for hours 
sometimes. I didn't know how I'd do it, or where I'd be 
able to, but I knew that at some point in the future I 
would have two girls in my clutches at the same time.

One thing I did notice that week was that the clothing 
the girls wore (both in real life and in my fantasy) was 
becoming more and more important to me; uniforms 
(whether school or Brownie or Guides) seemed to make the 
fantasy much more intense. I began to wonder if I could 
get hold of a schoolgirl's uniform for our weekend of 
depravity but in the end decided that buying a uniform 
without the girl who was going to be wearing it might 
draw attention to myself and I didn't want anything 
going wrong.

But I knew that in the future, when everything was in 
place, I would make my victims dress up as exactly the 
fantasy I liked.

The last few days before the weekend were an absolute 
torture; I even surreptitiously watched the street from 
my flat, wearing nothing but a dressing gown and 
stroking my pussy every time a young girl; I even found 
myself fingering my throbbing pussy during an episode of 
Grange Hill.

On the Wednesday before our fun Ruth popped round just 
to make final arrangements. I mentioned the uniform idea 
and a wicked smile spread over her face, she nodded and 
told me to leave it with her. I showed her my handcuffs 
and strap-on from my London trip plus the crop and she 
nodded approvingly. I also showed her some clothes pegs 
I'd bought. She looked quizzically at me for a second.

"I did say I was going to make her scream, remember. And 
you did say her breasts were ready for some abuse." I 
laughed and she smiled and shook her head as if to say I 
was too much.

We talked about how soon after Charlotte's arrival we'd 
subdue her and ran through various scenarios until we 
settled on the most direct one: she would ostensibly be 
taking the girl to another Home but would suggest they 
pop into a friends cottage on the way, maybe have a good 
meal etc as the kitchens at the new Home would be closed 
by the time they got there. 

She'd bring Charlotte in, introduce us, I'd give her a 
welcoming hug and pin her arms behind her allowing Ruth 
to snap on the hand-cuffs she'd hidden in her handbag; 
we could then push her down onto the sofa so I could 
strip her from the waist down while Ruth lay on top of 
her. Once she was naked from the waist down I could tie 
her ankles together while Ruth cut off whatever she was 
wearing 'up top' to leave her completely naked. Then the 
fun would begin.

Ruth said as she was leaving that while we planning this 
scene I was like a Cheshire cat on a hot tin roof; but 
all I remembered was the sexual thrill coursing through 
my body. When I reflected long afterwards on what she'd 
said I realised I would need to be much more in control 
of my expressions in future: It's one thing to 
reasonably think that a young girl will accept a lift 
from a woman she doesn't know, but no girl would take a 
ride with a strange woman who grins at them in a manic 
manner.

Finally, Friday rolled around. I spent the morning 
shopping for food and drink for the weekend, before 
packing. I didn't need many clothes as there were no 
plans to leave the cottage at all; in truth I had more 
lube, sex toys and abuse implements than outfits in my 
case.

Mid-afternoon I went to the rental company to collect 
the keys, my hand was actually shaking as I signed the 
receipt for the keys I was that excited and I tried to 
avoid eye-contact with the pretty (but didn't she know 
it) receptionist. I was actually quite proud that I kept 
the contact to a minimum and merely mumbled "Thanks, see 
you Monday," to her. I had actually been that close to 
trying to lure her up to the cottage to, even though 
deep down I knew that would have been a catastrophically 
stupid idea.

I got to the cottage about 4 in the afternoon (Ruth and 
Charlotte were due between 6 and 7) and quickly got 
myself sorted; food and drink in the fridge or the 
cupboard; duct tape and a pair of scissors pushed 
between the cushions of the sofa, other sexual toys 
distributed between the lounge and the bedroom depending 
on where I thought they'd be more fun. Then I just had 
to wait. And wait. And wait.

I was so high on nervous excitement that the waiting 
tore me to shreds so such an extent that after an hour I 
had to rush to the bathroom to be physically sick; I 
knew I would have to overcome this sort of reaction if I 
was going to continue in my quest for girls to abuse 
after this weekend. A mental image of me trying to 
entice a school-girl into my car while simultaneously 
grinning like a manic Cheshire cat and throwing up, and 
this made me laugh so much that my nerves seemed to 
vanish in an instant.

Even though I felt better time still dragged, and my 
mind still raced and worried: would it all go as 
planned? What if either Ruth or I suddenly felt unable 
to go through with the brutal and sustained abuse of a 
totally innocent victim? What if it just didn't live up 
to all my fantasies? Although I'd already abused 4 girls 
this was different; I knew I was in a doorway between 2 
lives, actually stepping through it was a leap into the 
unknown.

Finally, just after 7 there was a knock at the door. I 
took a deep breath, composed myself as best I could and 
went to open the door both literally and metaphorically.

I feigned surprise as I saw Ruth and Charlotte and 
welcomed them in as the night outside was pretty bleak 
to be honest; Charlotte was actually (in my opinion) a 
bit better looking than Ruth's rather dismissive 
description of her, but she was certainly as bright and 
outgoing as Ruth had described her.

Ruth briefly told me the prepared crap about going up-
country and didn't want to be a burden etc, but was 
there any chance of a meal as Charlotte (as she'd now 
been introduced) wouldn't get any food at her new Home 
this late at night.

I smiled and moved towards the young girl. "Sure, Ruth, 
no problem. You should have let me know you were coming, 
but I can rustle something up. Hi Charlotte, nice to 
meet you." I gave her a hug and suddenly the trap was 
sprung.

I ran my hands down her arms, gripped her hands and 
forced them behind her, Ruth, who had silently moved 
closer as I spoke, grabbed Charlotte's wrists and 
snapped her hidden hand-cuffs on them.

Charlotte bucked in my grip as she felt her arms being 
restrained and screamed in a shocked voice, but as soon 
as Ruth had the cuffs on she pushed Charlotte forward 
and I stepped aside to allow the two to fall onto the 
sofa with Ruth's mature, fuller frame easily pinning the 
girl beneath her. I dropped to my knees and grabbed 
Charlotte's kicking legs. She caught me a couple of 
close range blows but I was so full of adrenaline that I 
barely noticed. 

I reached up her denim clad legs to the button of her 
jeans and popped it open as she vainly attempted to 
throw off Ruth's superior weight. She was screaming 
despite Ruth's attempts to cover her mouth with her hand 
but I wasn't bothered by the girl's distress; of course 
it merely excited me more.

As the waistband of the girl's jeans loosened I started 
to pull them roughly down her legs, my fingers pressing 
against her smooth, firm thighs as I did so, her 
knickers came slightly down too so  was able to undress 
her almost in one sweep. I struggled briefly with her 
shoes and socks but this actually helped us disable 
Charlotte better as her jeans down around her ankles 
stopped her being able to kick out at me.

Now gripping her lower legs very tightly with one arm I 
started to work her shoes and socks off one by one, 
before grabbing the rucked up hem of her jean legs and 
pulling them off her. Still holding her calves tight I 
leant forward to retrieve the black-tape I'd hidden 
under the sofa and swiftly wrapped 2 or 3 lengths around 
her legs at her ankles and then at her knees.

Grabbing the scissors from the same hiding place I moved 
up to help Ruth restrain our prey even more. I started 
to grab Charlotte's jumper and began to cut at it with 
the blades, while I did this I noticed Ruth pressing 
herself against the girl (which actually made my job 
harder) and one of her hands was already pressing down 
onto her bottom and fingers were pressing between her 
restrained legs.

It was now almost like a shark feeding frenzy; Charlotte 
was screaming and bucking as best she could against 
Ruth's greater weight so much so that Ruth was almost 
lifted about like a rider in a wild-west rodeo; all this 
time I was still hacking away at the girl's jumper, and 
at any time the scissors might end up actually stabbing 
her before we'd even had any fun. – this was not going 
to plan at all.

To be continued?

Hey I please let me know if you like it, I would 
especially like to hear from any female readers out 
there: anna33bukowsky@gmail.com

--------------------------------------------------------
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in 
any way, 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 81