MISTER FIXIT

BY MANDRAKE BODOBI

A blow job in the kitchen during the quiet afternoon period was
enough to persuade Chef to give Emma the time off work she
wanted. He'd done this despite the fact that Friday to Monday was
his busiest period and Emma was his top waitress. People came to
his restaurant as much to see her as to enjoy the cuisine. He
knew this, so keeping her happy, and working for him rather than
one of the other restaurants in town was important. But the blow
job helped. That was the other thing he loved about Emma, she was
wild and free and wicked and unpredictable. How many pretty young
girls would just drop to their knees in front of their boss and
give him a blow job as casualy as if they were shining his shoes?

As soon as he'd come she'd zipped him up, licked her lips and
rushed out of the restaurant after giving him a quick kiss on the
cheek and whispering, "Thanks," in his ear. He shook his head and
smiled as he thought of the irony of her thanking him! Surely it
should be him thanking her.

Still shaking his head he picked up the phone and rang his wife,
Violet. Of course, there was an argument. Violet didn't like
Emma, probably because she was slim, pretty and sexy, and she
knew that her husband fancied her, just like all the other stupid
men who still thought that they were ten years younger. Why
should she have to start ringing round at the last minute to find
someone to fill in for the bloody girl? Why couldn't her stupid
husband tell Emma that she couldn't have the time off work? Why
did he give in so easily to her and at the last minute as well?

As soon as his wife had relented, chef replaced the handset in
the cradle on the wall and returned to his marinade. Emma had
been invited on a weekend away by the new man in her life, the
mysterious Mister Fix-it. His real name was Simon something or
other, and, according to Emma he was loaded. She called him
Mister Fix-it because when she had asked him what he did for a
living he had mysteriously evaded the subject and told her that
he just fixed things for people, important people. And for these
important people he arranged things and made things happen.

Chef drooled as he pondered what this Mister Fix-it might have
fixed for her and he couldn't wait to see her again after she'd
indulged, so to speak, in the fix.

Chef knew quite a bit about their relationship because Emma
chatted about the new man in her life all the time, ever since
they'd met a few months ago. What he didn't know he discovered by
reading the text messages on her mobile phone that she left in
the kitchen while she was serving. So he knew all about the child
sex fantasies they shared and had hardly been able to contain
himself when he discovered they included bondage and even
torture! How delicious, he had thought.

Such a young and pretty girl, it was hard to imagine that she
could be into such things, but juging from some of her replies,
she was very into it. Chef's heart raced as he imagined what it
was she was rushing off for. She had told him that Simon had a
surprise for her and he wanted to pick her up that evening and
fly her to one of his houses on a remote Scottish island for the
weekend. Chef licked his lips as he wondered what this surprise
might be and he felt himself stiffening as he imagined what his
chances might be of this Mister Fix-it fixing something for him
too. All he'd want to do is watch. Watch Emma, that is, enjoying
whatever it was that the mysterious Mister Fix-it had fixed for
her.

And he didn't have to stretch his imagination too far. One of her
text messages had read: "God yes!!! I really soooo want to do it
for real. Can you really fix it??????

******

Emma could hardly get the key in the door to her little flat her
hands were shaking that much. It was a combination of excitement,
astonishment, shock, disbelief and even fear. Surely Simon was
kidding her! She couldn't believe that a man of his intelligence
and obvious wealth would risk everything just for a thrill.

She leaned backwards against the door, closing it and fumbled to
get her mobile phone out of her pocket. She was still wearing her
waitress's uniform, she had left the restaurant in such a hury,
and her mobile was in her apron pocket. Flipping it open she
scrolled to her inbox for text messages.

Ever since meeting Simon the two of them had been indulging their
fantasies for child sex and bondage when they were in the bedroom
and the things they said to each other while making love drove
both of them wild. Emma had never experienced sex like it. The
thing about Simon was that he was intelligent and imaginative and
he knew how to excite her mind as well as her body. And, because
their fantasy was so taboo it just made sharing it even more
exciting and special.

Simon spent most of his time in London and was away a lot on
business so Emma normally only saw him when he visited her in the
small Cornish town where she lived or when he invited her to
spend a weekend with him in London. She knew how wealthy he was
and his mystery, wealth and power was as exciting as everything
else she liked about him, but it was their liking for the same
erotic fantasies that had brought them together. He was older
than Emma, she was 23 and he was in his mid thirties but Emma
liked older men and she'd never met anyone who was better suited
to her.

When Simon was away on business he'd call her and they'd have
phone sex or they'd chat online, sometimes for hours and always
about the same thing. Emma's passion for the fantasy grew as she
shared it with him and recently he had taken to sending her
erotic text messages on her phone. He began assaulting her
passions from all directions and Emma loved it, she couldn't get
enough.

When he had begun talking about doing it for real Emma thought
she was going to explode with lust. Somehow fantasising about
doing it for real was even more exciting than just fantasizing
about it. He kept telling her he was Mister Fixit and that he
could arrange anything and although he thrilled her with this
kind of talk she was convinced that it was still part of the
fantasy. A kind of let's pretend that we'll do it for real
fantasy.

But his first text message that day had read: 'How would you like
to see a nine- year-old boy and a seven year old girl naked and
tied up in the dungeon of my Scottish castle? xx'

Emma had replied: 'You're making me horny when I'm working! You
know I'd love that xxx

Only a few moments later and her phone was bleeping again. 'Can
you get Friday to Monday off work? I have a surprise for you.'

She was sure that all this was just a game despite Simon's power
and wealth and she dropped her phone on the bed and began to pull
off her waitress's uniform. She knew she wouldn't be
dissappointed whatever Simon was up to. She'd seen pictures of
his Scottish castle and it looked lovely, but so far she'd never
been there.

It was on the remote Scottish island of Rahness and there were
only two ways of getting there, boat or helicopter. Whatever
Simon had got in store for her she was sure she would enjoy. Just
a weekend at such a romantic location would be wonderful.

She was hopping from one foot to the other as she struggled to
pull off her socks when her phone bleeped twice as two messages
arrived one after the other. Excited she flipped open her phone.
Both were picture messages. The first was of a little blonde
haired boy completely naked and spread eagled on what looked like
a medieval rack and the second was of an even younger girl also
naked and with her arms and legs secured to a large wooden
Y-shaped frame.

She jumped as her phone bleeped again. 'They're all yours.' The
message read. 'I'm here with them now. You've got an hour to pack
and then my butler will pick you up and drive you to an airfield
where a helicopter is waiting. Can't wait to see you xxx.'

******

The first time that Simon Florentin Duval saw Emma was at the
controversial art exhibition, Decadent Youth, staged by his good
friend, the artist, Josette Lambert. Lambert's PR, arranged by
Duval, had said that she wanted to explore the simmering and
deeply repressed sexuality of youth, but many of her lifelike
paintings clearly depicted preteens, a fact that the local and
national press had been quick to pick up on.

'Child porn,' they'd called it and they'd slated the gallery in
the small Cornish, seaside town, seemingly all the more enraged
for the fact that such a controversial exhibition could be held
in such a genteel and family orientated place. Perhaps if it had
been held in Paris, London or New York there may not have been so
much of a fuss. Lambert and the art gallery itself defended the
works on show by angrily stating that none of the paintings
depicted sexual acts and all of the subjects were clothed. The
statement did not mention the fact that sometimes the 'clothes'
were nothing more than thongs.

Lambert said that her paintings were a reflection of the feelings
of youth and represented their simmering, yet unnoticed
sexuality, which they were not allowed to express. Decadent Youth
was like a window on millions of human beings all over the world
who were not allowed to indulge in the sexuality of their own
bodies because they had not yet reached the appropriate birthday.
It was, she said, a sexual prohibition and her paintings were
designed to draw peoples' attention to it.

Duval had organized the purchase of all of the works through
various agents with different names and so not a single painting
could be purchased by collectors or the general public. Not
surprisingly the publicity brought huge numbers of people, all of
whom were suitably shocked although nonetheless keen to buy. Some
were even annoyed when they discovered that collectors visiting
early in the exhibition had purchased all of the works. The next
time Lambert had an exhibition the sexuality would be toned down
but the prices would treble. A good turn out and plenty of press
coverage had, by this Cornish affair, been ensured by Mister
Fixit, Simon Florentin Duval.

Amongst the paintings in the exhibition were beautiful pictures
of children kissing, open mouthed, and in a variety of gender
combinations. The most shocking of these seemed to be the one of
two boys, dressed in the football shirts of opposing clubs, who
appeared to be little more than 10 years old. Some pictures
showed youngsters in fetish gear and although there was no sexual
activity it was implied by the nature of the paintings and the
sultry way the subjects stared out from the canvass. It was
almost as if they were thinking, 'As soon as you've stopped
looking we're gonna fuck.'

The big rush hadn't come until the day after the local paper had
run the, 'Child porn in art gallery shock,' headlines, but Emma
had gone almost straight from the news agent, a copy of the paper
rolled up under her arm. She was a regular at the gallery so the
staff there wouldn't be surprised to see her. It had taken her
approximately twenty minutes to find 'Slut Child,' one of the
worst examples of Lambert's work according to the paper. It was a
picture of a girl of perhaps no more than nine with a Mohican
haircut and a ring through her bottom lip. Perhaps worse was the
fact that she was portrayed lighting a cigarette, casually
leaning back against a graffiti covered wall, with one foot on
the floor and the other on the wall behind her, knee bent.

As shocking was the fact that the girl was topless and wore only
a pair of denim shorts. A little more shocking was the ring
through her right nipple, which was little more than a dot on her
flat chest. But it wasn't even this that had horrified the paper
the most. The most sickening thing about this work, the paper had
said, were the tattoos on the child's torso. One was a small pink
heart on her chest near her right nipple, and the others were
words written in black above and below her tummy button. Just
above was the word: SUCK, and just below were the words MY CLIT.

Emma sucked in her bottom lip and tried to suppress a grin when
she saw this. The paper hadn't even printed the words it had
simply referred to an obscenity tattooed on the child's tummy.
The painting was priced at £27,000 and if she had the money Emma
would have bought it. She was too late though, a little tag that
said, 'Sold,' hung from the bottom left corner of the frame.

Simon had been hurrying to the front desk when he saw her. At
that moment no one other than Katie was looking at Slut Child and
he saw her unmistakably bite her bottom lip and inhale deeply
through her nose.

"Charming isn't she?" Simon had said, his eyes sparkling
mischievously as he came up behind her.

Emma spun round unaware that anyone was close by and blushed
deeply when she saw Simon staring directly at her with a sparkle
in his eye and a confident look about him as if he could see into
her very soul.

"The only problem," he continued without waiting for an answer,
"is in deciding where to hang her." He looked up at the painting
himself now and pursed his lips slightly, thinking. "One wouldn't
hang her in the hall now would one?" His tone was sarcastic and
mocking of the type of people who were clucking and tut-tuting at
Lambert's work, and who normally visited the gallery to see the
works of the masters and the modern young talent endorsed by the
media. To the art intelligentsia this was porn and Simon was
mocking them.

"You can have her if you like," he stated, casually, "I think I
bought her in an adrenalin rush and when I think about it calmly
I really haven't got anywhere to put her that would do her
justice."

Emma looked at him shocked. This man was telling her quite openly
that he liked the work and yet it was the most shocking in the
exhibition. Not only that he was offering to give it to her!

"Oh, I couldn't, I really couldn't," Emma blushed, "I mean I
don't even know you and you don't give away that kind of money to
strangers.

Unwittingly she had confirmed that she liked the painting and
that was all Simon needed to know. "Oh don't worry," he whispered
conspiratorially, "I didn't really pay £27,000 for it. Hell no!
That's just PR. I'm giving the artist twenty five quid and she's
bumming a lift home with me, but don't breathe a word to the
press! You're not a journalist are you?"

Emma laughed, still blushing, "No," she said, "I'm not a
journalist."

With that Simon got her address and telephone number and a time
when it would be convenient to drop off the painting the
following day. Emma had felt like putty in his hands and a little
light-headed as she considered the possibility that she had met a
like-minded soul. Another human being who thought kids were hot.
Was that possible? That had been almost six months ago and in the
short time they had been together they had fallen in love and
lust with each other and the fantasies they both shared.

Now Simon was sat in a high backed leather armchair, in what he
liked to think of as his Scottish castle, awaiting the arrival of
his beloved. If she was on time the helicopter that was bringing
her should be just over the Firth of Lorne. He took a sip of red
wine and then licked his lips as he wondered how she would react
to the two real children, naked and tied up in the cellar, his
dungeon.

Would she freak out and tell him to get rid of them quickly, or
would she compose herself, give in to her burning desires, and
make both of their fantasies come true?

His tongue licked his lips sensually.

Simon Florentin Duval thought he knew the answer.

******

Emma sat in the cocooned cabin of the helicopter as its twin
turboshaft engines whined, lifting it effortlessly off the
ground. She sat back in the wide leather seat as she watched the
ground disappearing below. It was quite unlike flying by plane.
Planes needed a run at it to get airborne whereas helicopters
just went straight up. It was quite strange to someone who had
never flown in one before.

It seemed as if every day that went by she found out something
new about her mysterious new boyfriend. Now she discovered he
owned a helicopter, or had access to one, yet it was something he
had never mentioned before. One evening, a couple of weeks ago
they had got drunk together at his luxurious London apartment and
Emma had really pushed the issue of what he did for a living but
had learned little. Simon had become quite serious and had told
her that he didn't do just one thing he did many. He told her
about the family business and some of the companies he had shares
in, but there were other things he did which he told her were
quite secret. He warned her that if she wanted them to stay
together she must promise not to dig and keep asking questions.
She must accept him as a business man with other interests. He
was a mister fixit and that was all he would say.

The helicopter flew out over the sea and Emma watched the white
capped waves far below. She loved flying and the luxurious cabin
in the helicopter was unlike anything she had ever experienced
before. There were three wide leather seats, each with arm rests,
facing forward and another three seats facing aft. Behind the aft
facing seats was a wall separating the cabin from the pilot. How
great it would be, she thought, to fuck in this private little
cabin, and her mind turned again to what Simon might have in
store for the weekend.

There was no doubt that the pictures of the children were real,
but that didn't mean he wasn't teasing her. She knew that there
was real child porn out there and maybe that's what these images
were. Maybe he was just teasing her by sending porn pix to her
phone and pretending they were real. But if he had pictures like
this why had he kept them from her for so long? She'd love to
fuck while looking at those pictures of the little girl and boy
tied up. He knew that. How many times had they fantasized about
Slut Child who now hung on the wall facing the bottom of her bed?
So if he had real pictures why had he not shown her them before?

She could feel her heart beating in her chest as she intuitively
knew the answer. Simon really did have two children; two real
children and the pictures had been taken just moments before he
sent them. She closed her eyes and sank back into the seat, more
excited than she had ever been in her life before. If he really
did have two children waiting for her, well, she wasn't going to
miss the chance of a lifetime; she was going to make the most of
it. She looked at the pictures again on her phone and sighed,
squeezing her slim thighs together tightly.

After ten minutes or so of flying a female voice welcomed her
onboard over the speaker system. Her name was Donna; she was the
pilot and apparently Simon's private secretary. Handy, Emma
thought, a secretary who can pilot helicopters! She felt a tinge
of jealousy as she realised that there was another woman who knew
more, probably a lot more, about Simon's business affairs than
she did.

After the helicopter landed to refuel Donna pulled open the
passenger cabin door and helped Emma jump down. She was a dark
haired attractive woman, probably in her mid thirties, with
finely chiseled features and crystal clear green eyes. She had a
disarming smile and an open friendliness that Emma warmed to
immediately.

They were on what appeared to be no more than a landing strip.
There was a small control tower in front of them and a couple of
buildings to either side. Donna led them to one of these
buildings while the helicopter was refueled and shoved some coins
in a drinks machine to get them both a drink. Donna had coffee
and Emma had tea.

Emma had a million questions that her jealousy and pride
prevented her from asking and so she let Donna tell her about the
remainder of their journey. Apparently they were only about an
hours flying time from Rahness and Emma would be able to see the
island on the port side before they landed.

The helicopter was refueled quickly and moments later they were
airborne. As the aircraft flew out over the sea again Emma's
phone bleeped. It was another photo message from Simon and she
gasped when she saw it. It was a close up of a naked little boy's
hips. She could see the lower part of his flat tummy and the tops
of his thighs which were spread apart so she could clearly see
his hairless genitals. What had made her gasp most of all was the
man's hand holding the little boy's erect penis with its foreskin
pulled right down.

There was no mistaking Simon's gold Rolex watch!

'Here you are darling,' the accompanying message read, 'A little
taste of what's to come before you get here.'

******

Emma watched, fascinated as the landscape below the speeding
helicopter constantly changed. First it was water, then it was
land, then water and then land again. Eventually, after a long
spell over water the speakers came to life and Donna announced
that if she looked out of the port cabin window she would be able
to see Rahness in the distance. The helicopter flew in close, and
followed the coast before dropping altitude and flying inland
over a wooded valley.

"All this land belongs to Duval," Donna said through the
speakers, "It's part of his estate. You'll see the house soon
too, Castle Dreagan."

The helicopter flew over a ridge and then descended, banking
towards the right. Emma could see the sea in the distance and she
pressed her face to the glass as she looked for signs of the
house. She didn't have to wait long before they flew over it and
the aircraft tilted forward as it slowed to a stop in mid air.
They touched down with a gentle bump on the lawn in front of the
house and Emma waited patiently as Donna killed the engines and
the twin turboshafts whined down. As soon as the down-draft from
the rotors had calmed Emma grinned as Simon's face appeared at
the window as he pulled open the cabin door.

"God it's good to see you sweetheart! I've missed you," he said,
pushing her back gently until she was lying across two of the
forward facing seats.

Climbing up his lips found hers and their mouths opened as they
kissed, urgently and passionately, hungry for each other. Emma
wanted to break away and ask Simon a thousand questions, and most
of all she wanted her surprise, but her passion was such that she
couldn't tear herself away from their kiss. She remembered her
fantasy about fucking in the helicopter and she wanted to shout
to Donna to take off and fly over the sea so that she could make
love to this wild, sexy man.

Emma bit gently on Simon's bottom lip and pulled it playfully as
his hand slid under her white, sleeveless top and caressed her
firm, flat tummy. "I can't believe..." she gasped, leaving her
sentence unfinished as Simon's fingers moved up to her chest and
found the stiff, puckered nipple on her small left breast.

Then, he pushed her top right up and admired her lovely slim
torso, kissing each of her strawberry pink nipples in turn,
flicking the tip of his tongue over each erect bud. "You don't
have to believe sweetheart," he said huskily, "just come inside
and see for yourself."

******

Castle Dreagan was nothing more than a big house. A very big
house. Built in the early 19th century as a family home it was
constructed from brick and local stone with numerous castle-like
decorations, which were typical of many of the grander buildings
of that era. There was a round stone tower on the east wing of
the house and a smaller, square, brick tower on the west. It was
located on the easterly most part of the island and its land
encompassed a forest, a river valley and a significant stretch of
coastline.

Underneath the house was a network of caverns and caves that were
created millions of years ago when the whole land mass was at the
bottom of the sea. The architect who designed Dreagan used the
naturally occurring caverns to construct the house's extensive
cellars in which the then owner, Commander Jaques Saunier Duval,
could keep his wine.

One of the house's finest visitor attractions was a viewing area
inside one of the caverns where particularly good examples of
stalactites and stalagmites could be seen. There was also a wall
on which the prehistoric inhabitants of the area had drawn their
cave art perhaps more than 30,000 years ago. The cellars
themselves were thus underground buildings, with roofs,
constructed inside the caverns beneath the house and were quite
unique.

Inside one of the rooms in the cellars an attractive woman with
long dark hair and a slim figure stood in front of an easel, a
paintbrush in one hand and a palette in the other. On the far
side of the room a blonde haired boy and girl sat cross-legged on
the floor in front of two small flat screen TVs. They were both
playing computer games and were completely absorbed in a world of
their own. Both children were wearing short white dressing gowns
and both were naked underneath. The woman smiled as a
walkie-talkie on the mantelpiece over the fireplace beeped three
times.

"At last she has arrived," the woman said, her eyes sparkling
with excitement. "Soon, children we will know which of you is to
be first."

******

The twin turboshaft engines on the powerful helicopter seemed to
scream as it leapt into the air like some giant of the skies. It
gained altitude rapidly, circled the house and then swooped low
over the tree tops, climbed the ridge and then dropped into the
valley on the other side. Donna was showing off and it was her
way of saying have a great weekend ... if she'd been in a car
she'd have peeped the horn several times as she drove off.

"God Simon, I can't tell you how turned on I am!" Emma gasped,
standing on her tip toes and wrapping her arms around his neck as
soon as they were alone. They kissed again, open mouthed, and
Emma pressed her slim body against his. Their lips slid together
urgently and she melted into him, his strong hands gently
squeezing her tight little bottom, neatly packaged in a short
black skirt.

"I can't believe you've done this!" she blurted, breaking away
from their kiss, her eyes searching his almost feverishly looking
for answers. "I mean you're kidding me right? You are kidding me?
God, if you've gone out and grabbed a couple of kids... I mean
wow, but, we could be headline news tomorrow! I mean, Simon, what
have you done? Tell me!"

Emma's facial features were a complex montage of emotions,
including shock, frustration and fear but Simon could see quite
clearly that exhilaration and excitement were the overriding
ones. He knew how disappointed she would be if he told her now
that he was just kidding.

He smiled, kissing her gently on the lips and bent down to pick
up her bag. "Come and have a look at my castle," he said, leading
her towards the house, "and I'll tell you everything."

Simon led Emma up to the arched front door, made more castle-like
by its thick, heavy, wooden construction and the black metal
studs running in rows from top to bottom. He led her through a
square, wood panelled hall and into what he introduced as the
largest of the house's two reception rooms.

At the far end was a stone fireplace, over which hung a large
portrait of a man wearing what appeared to be military regalia.
He stared out of the picture, his eyes bearing down on visitors,
reminding them of who was once master of the house.

"My great grandfather, several times over," Simon said, his hand
waving towards the painting as if an introduction was necessary,
"Commander Jaques Saunier Duval."

As Emma looked into the eyes of the man in the painting she had
the sudden and peculiar feeling that he was actually watching
her. She felt a warm glow as if he was pleased with what he saw
and she felt certain that there was an appreciative smile playing
at the corners of his mouth.

She curtsied dramatically, for Simon's benefit, "Pleased to meet
you Commander Jaques," she said respectfully, her eyes sparkling.

"I think he likes you," Simon said, handing her a glass of red
wine he had poured from a decanter on a sideboard behind the
door, "Apparently the old boy always did have an eye for a pretty
girl."

Emma took a sip of wine and noticed that all around the room were
artists' easels covered with what appeared to be dust sheets.
There were thirteen in all and she stepped towards one, curious
to know what was under the cover.

As she did so Simon swiftly took her forearm and gently guided
her towards a chaise longue. He was grinning like a child on
Christmas day and his excitement and enthusiasm were infectious.
He asked her to sit down and then went over to one of the easels
and retrieved a large package from under the cover. It was
wrapped in pink, blue and gold striped paper all tied up with
ribbon and a bow.

"Your surprise Simon said handing her the package," his strong,
handsome face smiling.

He was not at all dissimilar to the man in the painting Emma
thought as she took the parcel, feeling through the paper to see
if she could guess what was inside. It was about ten inches by
eight and although whatever it was was quite thin it was also
quite heavy.

"Well, if this is the surprise then it's not two children,"
quipped Emma playfully. Then she gasped and her jaw dropped as
she pulled off the wrapping paper.

"Fuck me! I don't believe it! I don't fucking believe it! Oh my
God, Simon, I love you!"

Emma leaped up and threw her left arm round his neck while still
holding her present in her right hand, wrapping paper floating to
the floor. It was a framed picture of a little boy and girl, both
completely naked with their wrists tied together to metal rings
embedded in the wall above their heads.

They were both slim, blonde-haired children and she recognised
them from the picture texts Simon had sent her earlier in the
day. Standing in-between them was Simon who was holding a sign
which read: 'They're just beneath where you're sat right now!'

They kissed again and Simon noticed that Emma's lips were hotter
than before and her kisses even more urgent. He lifted up the
front of her skirt and pushed his hand into her panties and down
in-between her legs. She moaned into his mouth, lifting her left
leg slightly to give him easier access as his middle finger slid
into her groove and sank into her easily. Simon had never known a
girl get as wet as Emma and she was as wet now as he had ever
known her.

When she pulled away her cheeks were flushed red and her eyes had
a dreamy far away look. She shook her head as if she were
bewildered, "I just can't believe you've done this! It's so hot
but we could be in so much trouble!"

Simon slipped his hand out of her panties and returned to the
sideboard from where he got their first glass of wine. He sucked
Emma's wetness off his finger, as if it was covered in the most
delightful honey, and poured them both another glass of wine.
When he turned round, Emma was staring at the picture, holding it
tightly with both hands as if it might escape.

"Here," he said, handing her the wine, "have another drink, it
will calm your nerves."

Simon led her to one of the easels. "Another part of your
surprise," he said, "But before I unvail it let me tell you that
the children have not been abducted and no one is looking for
them."

He held up his hand as Emma tried to cross examine him, her eyes
wild with a combination of excitement and fear. When she was
quiet again he continued. "I told you some time ago that I was a
kind of a mister fix it," he said, "Well, I am, but a rather
special one. Until the turn of the twentieth century there used
to be lots of us; commission agents we were known as.

"Say there's a chap out in India who wanted to send some
furniture to his home in Surrey, well, it was complicated then,
lots of crates and things, so a commission agent would sort it
for him. Or, say someone was going out east for the first time on
business to try and sell his new overhead flange bracketing
machine that weighs a ton and a half. He needs to ship one out to
Shanghai so he can show the local panjandrum how it works. Well,
the commission agent fixes it. He sorts the shipping, the
insurance, warehousing, packing, the lot. He even sorts the
meetings and greases palms and helps things to go smoothly."
Simon paused to take a sip of wine as Emma listened attentively.

"Well, commission agents aren't really needed like that any more.
Not for simple things like that anyway. But in the complex world
we live in today there are big things that need, shall we say,
arranging. Much more important than shifting a bit of furniture
from India to Surrey or getting a flange bracketing machine from
a factory in Salford to the big cheese in Shanghai. I'm talking
really big things like persuading warlords to do one thing rather
than another, making sure a particular person gets elected head
of a particular country, or making sure that they don't." He
smiled broadly as he watched Emma's eyes widen with interest.

"Well, when you're fixing things like this there are powerful
people who need paying off, or rewarding or bribing and it's not
always money they want. So, a successful commission agent needs a
variety currencies in which to deal and you'd be surprised at how
a night with a little boy or girl, no questions asked, can swing
things in your favour, or certainly oil the wheels or put the
icing on the cake, so to speak."

Emma looked as if her eyes were about to pop out of her head. "So
what are you saying?" she asked, "These two kids are yours? You
use them as a kind of currency to fix deals or entertain
important people?"

Simon grinned. He could see that Emma wasn't angry. She was
incredulous but she wasn't angry. "That's it exactly," he smiled,
"I have access to children when I need them for that purpose.
This weekend though, it's just for us!"

Emma put the picture down and jumped up at Simon wrapping her
legs round his waist and her arms around his neck like she used
to do with her father when she was a little girl. That's was
where the similarity ended though and she snogged Simon
open-mouthed, pushing her tongue deep into his mouth.

She broke away impatiently, "Come on, I want to see the rest of
my surprise!"

Simon grinned, and with Emma still hanging on to him, with her
legs around his waist, he pulled the cover off the first
painting. It was a beautiful, life-like painting of a little girl
tied on her back, spread eagled onto what looked like the top of
a wide wooden wheel sticking up out of the floor. It wasn't a
wheel of course it was a wooden arch, perhaps five feet wide and
resting on a wooden frame.

There were leather cuffs on the little girl's wrists and ankles,
which were secured to fastenings on the wheel so that her skinny
arms and legs formed an X shape. Emma gasped and ran her fingers
appreciatively over the child's body which was arched by the
wheel so that the front of her body was stretched.

Simon removed a further five covers one by one and each painting
was of the same girl secured to different apparatus. There was a
rack, an X frame, a Y frame and in one she was hung upside down
by her ankles from a wooden beam.

"They're gorgeous," Emma breathed into his ear, her lips hot
against his skin. "Who painted them? They look similar in style
to Slut Child."

"That's because Josette painted them for you. She shares our
tastes sweetheart and she's here this weekend to help organise
your surprise and look after the children when we've finished
with them." He gave her bottom a squeeze to emphasize the last
four words and Emma moved her slim hips against his stomach. "All
you have to do now is decide which child you want first and on
which piece of equipment." As he spoke Simon took her to the
other paintings and again removed the remaining six covers one by
one. This time the pictures were of the boy, similarly naked and
tied in the same way and on the same pieces of equipment as the
girl.

Simon pressed his lips up close to Emma's ear, "For your first
experience I want you to have the children one at a time and on
your own," he said, "I want everything you do to be just for you.
I want it all to be for your pleasure and your pleasure alone. I
do not want you to be influenced by me in any way and nor do I
want to think that you might be doing something just to please or
entertain me. When you have finished you can come back to me and
we will make love wildly while you tell me everything that you
did. When you have had one session with each child on your own,
then we will share them together."

Emma jumped down like an excited schoolgirl her eyes afire with
lust. "I want the girl first," she said huskily, "On that wheel
thing. God yes!"

Simon informed Josette over the two-way radio of Emma's choice.
When he had done so he told Emma how to find her way into the
cellars and how to find the room in which the little girl would
be tied up.

Before she left Emma knelt in front of her boyfriend, pulling
down his fly. Her slender hand slipped inside and gently pulled
out his erect penis. Holding it near her moist lips she grinned,
"I want something from you to give to her," she purred, sucking
his erection into her warm, wet mouth.

It was the second time she had given someone a blow job that day.

******

The cellars under Castle Dreagan were like catacombs but after
carefully following Simon's directions from the stairs in the
library Emma was soon outside the door in which the
seven-year-old girl was tied up for her pleasure. She breathed in
deeply through her nose, savouring the taste of Simon's sperm in
her mouth, and pushed open the door.

The room was about the size of a tennis court and dimly lit with
candles that seemed to be everywhere. There was also a fire
burning in a fireplace on the far side of the room and it was so
warm that the heat felt almost oppressive, like a sauna. There
were no windows and the only way into the room was through the
door she had just pushed open.

Emma's eyes widened like saucers and she nearly bit through her
lips as she saw the large wooden structure that dominated the
centre of the room. Just as in Josette's painting it was like the
top section of a wheel, its wooden rim flat and at least five
feet wide. Secured to it with her arms and legs in an X shape was
the little girl, her wrists and ankles bound with leather cuffs
that were secured to steel rings embedded in the wooden
structure. Her lithe little body was arched and stretched over
the curvature of the wheel so that her tummy was pulled taut and
her corrugated ribs were prominent on her flat, boyish chest.

The girl was blindfolded with a black rag, and what looked like
black cotton bandages were wound across her mouth and round the
back of her head again and again to gag her. Emma's pulse
quickened as she remembered one of Simon's fantasies in which the
girl was gagged in a similar fashion with her own panties shoved
in her mouth. In her excitement she nearly forgot Simon's come
and a sliver of the milky white liquid trickled out of the corner
of her mouth and ran down her chin. Never in her life had she
felt so depraved and never had she given in so completely to her
perverse lust.

Beads of perspiration formed on Emma's forehead as she stood next
to the apparatus on which the little girl was tied. She noticed
too that the child's body was covered in a sheen of sweat and she
became aware again of the heat in the room from the open fire
that burnt brightly in the fireplace on the far side of the room.
Suddenly it all seemed appropriate to her as the temperature of
the little underground room matched her mood.

She stood momentarily admiring the scene before her, then reached
out and placed the flat of her hand on the girl's chest. As she
did so the child's nostrils flared and she breathed in sharply as
if taken by surprise. Emma realised that she had been so quiet
that the little girl probably hadn't even realised that there was
anyone in the room. She sighed through her nose as she ran both
hands all over the child's skinny torso, delighting at the feel
of her smooth skin. She was like a little pixie with blonde hair
cut in a straight fringe over eyebrows that were so faint you
could hardly see them.

The fire crackled and spat as if it was excited too and Emma bent
down and pressed her lips flat against the girl's tummy. As she
did so she parted her lips and a mixture of Simon's sperm and her
own saliva spilled out onto her stomach and ran in two rivulets,
one heading for her flat chest and the other for the deliciously
bare little slit in-between her legs. Emma licked the girl's skin
with the flat of her tongue and then followed the little trail of
come down her tummy until she was between her legs where she
waited with her mouth open. As soon as Simon's come spilled over
the girl's pubic mound and ran into her smooth, hairless slit
Emma closed her lips around the girl's sex and sucked it
hungrily.

There was a muffled moan from the girl and her hips moved against
Emma's mouth who lay with her front against the wheel, now
in-between the child's skinny legs. "God, I never dreamt that the
real thing would be as horny as this," she breathed huskily, half
to herself and half to the girl. Placing her thumbs on the
child's smooth labia she spread her lips apart to reveal the pink
inner lips and the small opening to her vagina. Repositioning her
thumbs closer to the seven-year-old's tight little hole she then
spread it open as much as she could and gasped as she realised
there was no hymen.

The girl had been fingered at the very least and probably fucked
too. She licked her lips as she imagined Simon fucking her as she
was sure he would do later in the weekend. Once again she ran
both hands up and down the girl's torso, mixing Simon's sperm and
her saliva with the child's salty sweat. She caressed her flat
tummy and chest and then leant forward and flicked the tip of her
tongue in the girl's tummy button. It was cute, Emma thought,
almost perfectly round and flat, it was neither an inny nor an
outy. Unable to resist any more Emma pulled off her short black
skirt and panties, then straddled the little girl's naked body on
the wheel.

Like a baby cunt, Emma's sex was smooth and bare from
professional waxing and she gasped as she pressed herself against
the skin of the girl's chest. She slipped her hands around her
back and pulled the little kid up against her crotch and began to
rub herself up and down against her body. As she did so she
pulled off her vest, so that she too was naked, and she rubbed
her clit with the tips of her fingers as her narrow hips jerked
back and forth lewdly on top of the naked child.

Emma gasped as she reached behind her and pressed her four
fingers flat against the girl's smooth, hairless slit. This was
the stuff of her dreams, her wildest fantasies and now it was
real. She was having sex with a child. She slid her middle finger
into the girl's groove finding it wet from her own saliva and
Simon's come. Her nipples felt like little bullets on her small,
half-apple shaped breasts and she wished she had a third hand or
an available mouth to give them some attention. She arched her
back as her middle finger found the entrance to the kids's vagina
and she pushed it into her as the fingertips of her other hand
vibrated against her own clit.

The little girl's hole was tight but her fingers were slim and
eventually she was able to work her digit right the way into the
child's cunt up to her knuckle. The little girl's head turned
from one side to the other and Emma watched the muscles in her
neck strain slightly as a muffled noise came from behind her gag.
She didn't know if the girl liked or disliked what she was doing
to her baby cunt but it was her toy to play with and she fingered
it lasciviously as her hips pumped back and forth against the
seven-year-old's body.

Emma was very close to coming. She was so hot for this cute
little girl that she thought she could probably come just from
looking at her tied up naked on this wheel thing, so it was not
surprising that her first orgasm should come quickly. It was
taking her now, like the lightening before the thunder and her
body shook. Her top lip curled as her thumb slid into the girl's
pink slit and pressed against her small clitoris pushing it out
of it's little hood. She pressed her thumb against it firmly and
licked her lips as she heard the girl's muffled voice from behind
her gag. She pressed her short thumbnail against her clit and
applied pressure, squashing it hard against her pubic bone. Emma
cried out as the girl's face contorted in pain as she dug her
thumb harder into her little clit, and then came strongly as the
child's body twisted and wriggled beneath her.

After her orgasm she lay flat on top of the little girl, enjoying
the feeling of her nakedness against the child's. She slid down
her body slightly until her face was above the girl's and untied
her blindfold and gag. Sure enough Josette had stuffed the girl's
panties into her mouth before she had gagged her and Emma pulled
them out and dropped them to the floor. The girl blinked a few
times and Emma noticed that her eyes were wet from crying. She
kissed her on the mouth, suddenly feeling guilty for having hurt
her despite the yearning she had inside her to hurt her again.
Emma was not surprised when the little girl kissed her back. If
what Simon had told her was true then she, along with other
children, was like the temple harlot, available to satisfy the
most taboo desires of powerful men and women who Simon cajoled
and persuaded to do the bidding of his masters. This little thing
was probably as skilled in the pleasures of the flesh and BDSM as
she was and probably more.

"What's your name?" Emma asked almost breathless with desire and
stunned that the little girl could kiss so well and so willingly.

Despite the tears the girl's eyes sparkled and Emma noticed how
pretty they were, almond shaped and the colour of the sea. "My
name is Nika," the child replied, a slight accent indicating that
she was Eastern European.

Emma licked her lips and kissed the girl again, unable to resist
another open- mouthed child snog. Nika responded instantly by
kissing her back, their tongues sliding together and pushing into
each other's mouths. Emma slid her naked body against Nika's,
rubbing her wet slit against the child's skinny thigh and
pressing her tummy flat against the girl's.

"I'm sorry I hurt your little cunny," Emma gasped breaking away
from their kiss, "Did I hurt you a lot?"

Nika searched her face questioningly, a slight frown on her
puzzled brow. Her long blonde hair hung down away from her head
on the wheel and Emma had an image in her mind of the little girl
stood in-between her legs while she brushed her hair that reached
all the way to the small of her slender back.

"You don't have to say sorry," Nika replied, "All the grown-ups
like to hurt me and do sex to me. Are you going to hurt me more?"

Emma thought she was going to burst with desire, it was almost as
if the child wanted it. "I am baby yes," she gasped, "I'm going
to hurt you a lot. I want to make you cry and scream but I also
love you and I want to make love to you. Can you understand
that?"

Nika nodded her pretty head. "All the grown-ups do that, it's
part of the game," she said matter of factly, "and I like it,
especially when you do the sex to me."

Emma realised that the little girl had been exposed to pain and
pleasure for so long that they were both intrinsically linked in
her mind and one did not come without the other. It seemed that
she liked the sexual things that were done to her but in her
world those pleasures only came when the adults were in the mood
for bondage and torture.

"What is it that you like the most?" Emma asked, her hips still
moving languidly against the pretty girl's soft thigh, her
passion almost at bursting point but contained to pursue this
interesting line of conversation.

Nika's eyes flashed excitedly and her answer was immediate, "I
like it best when you use your tongue," she said, pronouncing the
word 'tongue' as 't'sung' which Emma thought was so cute she
wanted to eat the little girl's pussy again right there and then.
Instead she pressed herself against her body, skin to skin, and
snogged her again, wetly, their mouths open wide.

Pulling away slightly she licked all the way around the child's
lips. "You know what I wanna do now sweetheart," she breathed
hotly, "I wanna fuck this pretty mouth of yours until I come on
those lovely cherry pink lips, and I want to rub myself all over
your gorgeous face when I come." She paused for a while
contemplating the child's mouth. "I'm gonna come right here," she
said softly, pressing her index finger against the girl's lips.
I'm gonna fuck a child's mouth."

Nika sighed, clearly excited by Emma's plans and the woman's
naked body pressing against her own. "And then are you going to
use your t'sung on me?" she asked, her eyes sparkling.

"No baby, no, I'm afraid I'm not," Emma replied, affectionately
planting kisses on the little girl's cheeks, "After I've come on
your face I'm going to make you cry and I'm going to make your
little body tremble with pain, but then, after that, yes, then
I'll suck your little slit and you can have my tongue."

******

Emma unclipped Nika's wrists and ankles and led the naked little
pixie to a rubber mat, similar to those found in gymnasiums, in
front of the fire. She had decided that it would be easier to
fuck Nika's mouth on the mat than it would be with the child
spread eagled on the wheel-like apparatus. Coming in a child's
mouth, girl or boy, was one of her favourite fantasies and now
that she had the chance to do it she wanted to make the most of
it.

This wasn't just about having a kid perform oral sex on her, this
was about completely unleashing all her desires and fucking the
child's mouth. In her fantasy it was like the kid's mouth and
face were some kind of sex toy for her to masturbate with and
that's exactly how she wanted to use Nika now.

She loved to be on the receiving end of this kind of activity too
and there were many times when she had asked Simon to use her
mouth like a hole to come in. It drove her wild with desire to
think that her mouth was being used by her lover as a kind of
object with which he was masturbating. For some reason though,
with Simon it only turned her on to take the submissive role, she
had no desire to fuck his mouth in the same way. She enjoyed his
oral sex but she had no desire to use his mouth in the same way
that she pleaded with him to use hers.

Strangely though, in fantasy, the idea of fucking a child's mouth
drove her wild and Simon would often describe situations where
she rubbed herself against little boys' and girls' open mouths
and came all over their faces. That made her hot and now she had
the chance to do it for real. Nika was hers to do with as she
pleased. At least for tonight.

Obediently Nika lay on her back on the mat and Emma put some
cushions under her head. Emma had been thrilled to learn that
Josette made her perform oral sex, as had other women, and so
what was about to happen would be no great surprise to her. Her
head spun as she straddled the little girl and presented her bare
sex to her mouth. Nika opened wide, as if she were at the
dentist, and, grabbing the back of her head Emma pulled the kid's
open mouth against her cunt.

Gripping two handfuls of blonde hair behind Nika's head she
pulled her face firmly against her, with her cunt pushed into her
open mouth. "Don't bother trying to suck or lick me," Emma
gasped, "just open your mouth as wide as you can and let me have
your tongue!"

Nika did as she was told and Emma's body trembled as she fucked
the seven- year-old's mouth, her narrow hips rocking in a fluid
motion, her wet slit moving back and forth over her lips and
tongue. She moaned out loud and arched her back rubbing herself
against Nika's whole face now, and the girl's chin, lips and nose
glistened with Emma's wetness.

Emma ground herself against the girl's lips, her hips jerking and
she looked down and gasped at the sight of the seven year old's
face in-between her legs. She reached behind her and pinched the
skin on the girl's flat, boyish chest around her left nipple,
twisting her fingers sharply. Then, Emma groaned in delight as
Nika's face contorted and she cried out in pain as she pinched
and twisted her nipple cruelly.

Nika squirmed as Emma rubbed her smooth, wet slit up and down her
face and then screamed, eyes wide, as Emma suddenly, and without
warning, drove her fist into her little tummy. Emma sighed,
licking her lips as she watched the expression on the girl's face
then arched her back and cried out in ecstasy as she came.

It was a long come. One of those ones that suddenly started
getting stronger just when you thought it was all over, and her
slender body trembled with lust. Multiple orgasms, Emma thought,
and she kept coming and coming on the girl's face, using it as if
she were masturbating with it. She gripped the handful of hair
she was holding as tightly as she could, making the child wince
and pulling the kid's face firmly against her sex.

Eventually, when Emma finished coming she rolled onto her back by
the side of the child and spread her legs. "Make me come again
with your mouth little one," she breathed huskily, "Except this
time you do the work and let me just lie here and relax."

Nika rubbed the tears from her eyes and dragged the back of her
hand across her wet mouth before lying on her tummy in-between
Emma's spread legs. She knew how nice it felt when the grown-ups
sucked and licked her nugget and she was determined to do it
really well to Emma in the hope that the older girl would return
the favour later.

Emma sucked in her bottom lip as she looked down over her body
and watched the seven year old kid open her mouth and glue her
pretty, strawberry pink lips all around her sex. What a delight
it was to come in a child's mouth and soon she'd be doing it
again. After that she'd tie her back on the wheel thing and find
something nasty to torture her with.

******

Emma sighed as she lay her head back down on the mat and closed
her eyes, the child's small head in her hands. The little girl
wasn't exactly experienced at performing oral sex but what she
lacked in skill and finesse she certainly made up for with
enthusiasm. She was munching on the top of Emma's slit as if she
was sucking one of those tennis-ball sized gob stoppers and she
was in a race with her friends to see who could get to the blue
layer first.

Emma spread her slim legs wide and jerked her hips against the
child's mouth, pushing down firmly on the back of her head as she
felt her orgasm building. Nika occasionally glanced up at the
older girl and saw the familiar tell-tale signs of impending
climax, with Emma's sucked-in, concave tummy and her small
breasts heaving. Recognising the signs and remembering what she
had learned from other women, like Josette the painter, and Donna
the pilot, she scuttled up Emma's body and began licking her left
nipple like a little kitten lapping cream from a saucer.

"God, you're a little dream," gasped Emma, "Who taught you all
these things? How can you be so damn sexy when you're only seven
years old?"

Nika beamed brightly, her eyes sparkling, but rather than
answering she simply brushed her lips against Emma's and then
opened her mouth when the older girl responded instantly. Nika
liked kissing with tongues and they snogged like teenage lovers
with Emma hungrily licking the inside of the child's mouth. They
broke away reluctantly with Emma pushing down firmly on Nika's
shoulders, the little girl knowing immediately what was required.
She wriggled down Emma's slim body, stopping momentarily at her
breasts. They were smaller than any of the other women's breasts
she had been with before and her nipples were as hard as little
peanuts. She sucked each of them and Emma moaned, arching her
back and gently massaging the girl's shoulders as she sucked.

Nika backed down Emma's body like a lizard in reverse, leaving
the older girl's puckered nipples erect and glistening, wet with
her saliva. Emma cried out in ecstasy, pressing down on the back
of Nika's head, as once again the little girl glued her lips
around her clit. She rocked her hips, gently fucking the child's
mouth as Nika's tongue slid into the top of her groove. The
thought of her cunt juices all over the little girl's tongue and
lips drove Emma wild with lust and her hips began to move
rhythmically against Nika's mouth, making her head bob up and
down. With her hand on the back of Nika's head Emma fucked her
mouth and for a moment she thought it looked as though the little
girl's head was a part of her, a growth from in-between her legs,
as it moved when she moved, the girl's lips glued in an O-shape
around the top of her slit.

She could feel the flat of the girl's tongue sliding wetly
against her clitoris and Emma's head spun, her lust and sexual
excitement at a level she had never experienced before. Meeting
Simon and discovering that he not only accepted her child-sex
fantasies, but shared them too, had been a thrill that put sex
between them on a whole new level. Being able to fantasize about
sex with kids and kids in bondage while they fucked had been
wild, making the fantasy vastly more exciting than exploring it
on her own. But now she was actually doing it for real, she was
fucking a child's mouth, and she stared down over her heaving
chest and flat, quivering tummy at the pretty little girl's face
in-between her legs.

When she came she let out a long sigh which turned into a series
of gasps and noisy groans as she had what must have been the
strongest orgasm of her life. She lifted her bottom slightly off
the rug and rocked her pelvis up and down while the rest of her
body remained rigid, visibly trembling uncontrollably. Emma
worried that she might suffocate the girl as he pushed down
firmly on the back of her head, rhythmically moving her sex
against the child's open mouth. With a final gasp she pushed Emma
away and held her cheeks in her hands as her erratic breathing
slowly returned to normal.

"Oh, my God Nika," Emma gasped, "come and kiss me! I want to
taste my sex on your baby lips and tongue!"

Nika grinned, her eyes sparkling, and she moved deliberately like
a cat, crawling on her hands and knees over Emma's body, her
tongue sensually licking her lips in a deliberate and
intentionally erotic show.

"Jeez!" Emma exclaimed with delight, "What are you like? You're
like a little sex kitten!" and with that she tickled the little
girl's tummy, digging her fingertips playfully into her sides and
making her squeal with laughter.

Nika collapsed on top of her giggling and Emma sighed as she felt
the little girl's smooth flat tummy wriggling and squirming
against her own. She squeezed both of Nika's small, tight
buttocks and then slid the two middle fingers of her right hand
down in-between her legs. She stopped tickling and Nika closed
her eyes as Emma's two fingers slid over her smooth, hairless
petals.

"You like that don't you?" Emma asked rhetorically as her middle
finger slid in- between Nika's outer petals and into her groove.

Nika nodded her head as she wriggled up Emma's body until her
face was above the older girl's. As she did so Emma used her left
hand to open Nika up a little as the middle finger of her right
hand worked into her slit. "God you're wet!" she gasped, "You're
fucking wet! You really do like this don't you?"

Nika nodded again, her eyes sparkling, and the small golden
freckles across the bridge of her pretty little nose appeared
momentarily to Emma as if they were dancing with delight. Emma
gazed into the little girl's eyes and, as she did so, explored
her moist slit with her fingers. Her wetness wasn't like her own,
it was thinner, like a light oil and she remembered the days,
when she was Nika's age, wondering what it was that always made
her panties wet when she pressed herself against the side of the
washing machine when it was in its spin cycle.

She watched the expressions on Nika's face as she flicked her
little clit, a miniature of her own but responding, none the
less, in the same way. How lucky was this little girl, Emma
thought, to be in the hands of adults who saw her as a sexual
plaything. She wondered how she would have responded, when she
was a seven- year-old girl, if a young 19-year-old woman had
fingered her baby nubbins like she was doing to Nika. She wished
that someone had done it to her and then she thought how
wonderful it would be if she could swap places with Nika and feel
what it was like to be a child getting fucked.

Nika moaned and tipped her head back, so that her blonde hair
cascaded over her shoulders, as Emma pushed her middle finger
deeply into her vagina. She slid the fingers of her left hand,
palm up, over the child's tummy and then in-between her legs to
rub and stroke her little clit. Then she finger fucked the little
girl rapidly, pushing her finger in and out of the girl's tight
little hole like a piston in a cylinder. Nika's head dropped down
and she stared into Emma's eyes as her mouth opened wide in an
expression of lust.

"You like that don't you baby?" Emma asked, so turned on herself
that her voice was shaky.

The little girl nodded above her as Emma continued to finger fuck
her rapidly, the two middle fingers of her other hand vibrating
on the child's clit.

"Ooh, I think I'm going to make you come," Emma sighed, "I'm
gonna make a child come and I'm gonna watch your face while I do
it. Would you like that little one?"

Nika nodded again, her top lip sucked into her mouth and her pink
tongue curled over it as if trying to reach her pretty nose. Emma
lay there and watched the expressions change on the
seven-year-old's face as she changed the tempo a little,
fingering her now with long deep thrusts, her other two fingers
caressing her clit in rapid circular movements. Then she pulled
out of her completely and in an instant the finger that was in
her vagina was now pressing against her tight little anus.

Nika was used to having both of her holes probed and she breathed
in deeply as Emma pushed her slim middle finger into her bottom.
Then she moaned and waggled her baby hips as the middle finger of
Emma's other hand moved from her clit and pushed into her vagina,
replacing the one that was now penetrating her little bottom.
Emma licked her lips as she fingered the child's vagina and
bottom at the same time, thrilled to feel her fingers moving
against each other through the thin membrane that separated the
two holes.

The little girl screwed up her face and gasped as Emma buried her
finger in her cunt so deeply that her fingertip nudged against
her cervix, the palm of her hand pressed up against her clit.
Nika cried out in ecstasy, a deep frown on her pretty face, as
she began to come. She pushed her hips down onto Emma's tummy and
then sat on her, leaning forward slightly with her hands on her
chest to support herself. Emma watched in delight as the little
girl's head dropped behind her, her back arched, her pelvis
jerking rapidly in a lewd fucking motion on her fingers.

The child's orgasm seemed to last a long time, or maybe it was a
series of multiple orgasms, and Emma did what she could with her
fingers to keep her coming. When eventually it seemed to reach an
end, Nika collapsed on top of her and their lips slid together
for another open-mouthed kiss. They kissed and kissed and kissed,
and all the time Emma kept her two middle fingers buried deep in
the child's two play holes.

Emma's heart was racing when eventually she scooped the little
girl up in her arms and carried her to the wooden arch in the
middle of the room. She lay her on her front, and one by one she
secured her ankles and wrists with leather cuffs to the metal
rings screwed into the wood. Then, she spread the two small
globes of the girl's buttocks apart and dribbled saliva onto her
pink anus. She flicked it with the tip of her tongue and then
sucked it, with one hand gripping each buttock, pulling them
apart.

When she stood up there was a look of utter lust and desire on
her pretty face and she looked around the room as if in search of
something. Pushed up along the two longest walls of the room were
wooden cabinets and tables with numerous chests underneath them.
On the table nearest Emma was a scattering of sex toys and her
eyes immediately found what she was looking for, a pink,
penis-shaped vibrating dildo the size of a 12-year-old boy's
cock. There was also a box of white, wax candles and Emma licked
her lips excitedly.

She pulled the table next to the wooden arch, stood one of the
candles in a candlestick holder and lit it with a match. Next she
picked up the penis shaped vibrator and marvelled at how
life-like it was. It really did look just like a young boy's cock
and it was just the right size to fuck little Nika with. She
sighed with desire and looked at the candle. The wax was melting
slowly. Where would she drip it first she wondered? On those
smooth round buttocks perhaps? On her back, or maybe her legs,
hands or feet? Emma breathed in deeply as the idea came to her.
As it did, her right hand slid in-between her legs, cupping her
sex and squeezing it firmly.

She knew exactly what little seven-year-old Nika was getting
next.