Author: Lizard69
Title: Girlfriends
Part: Part 10
Summary: Can there be such a thing as acceptable rebellion?
Keywords: Mb bg bb Fdom

   This is a work of fiction.  If you have trouble with the boundary
between fact and fantasy, don't read it.  If the story codes following the
title freak you out, don't read it.  If I mis-coded drop me a note through
the author email link at ASSTR.  Do not under any circumstances forward
this file to anyone that hasn't specifically requested it.  In case you
haven't figured it out yet this is intended as *adult* entertainment.  Do
not allow it to be accessed by minors.  If you have inadvertently
downloaded it in a jurisdiction where such material isn't legal please
delete it immediately.  Do not re-post in whole or in part without this
notice.  Do not repost on any "for profit" site without my specific written
permission.  Copyright 2016 by Lizard69.

   Girlfriends Part 10 (Mb bg bb Fdom) Lizard69



   The place was out of town but not a farm house.  It was built after the
small farms in the area had been consolidated or broken up for building
lots.  Just a normal suburban ranch style home with enough space around it
to discourage curious neighbors.  No one lived close enough to ask about
the cars in the driveway.

   "One of my clients is a real estate broker.  She'll be selling this
place soon but right now it's tied up in probate so it isn't being shown.
We were talking about a warning she received regarding showing places at
odd hours to unknown clients and I asked her to do me the favor of letting
me use the place to play out a fantasy.  She didn't ask for details and I
didn't tell her that it wasn't my fantasy.

   "Since that last episode of yours I've been e-mailing Ellie and texting
Bob.  While your behavior was shocking, even scandalous, I've been forced
to concede that you had some justification.  You felt I had pressured you
into the situation and it was the easiest, possibly the only way you had to
lash out.  Bob told me of a conversation where you expressed an intense
desire to do something outrageously rebellious while admitting the rules
I've imposed are for your own health and safety.  Ellie is convinced I want
to be shocked, that witnessing the sexual abuse of my son is as addictive
as it is offensive.  She may be right."

   Timmy's head snapped around to glare at the stranger he thought was his
mother.  She refused to look at him, staring forward through the windshield
of the parked car.

   "Just for the record, she thinks you're living proof the golden rule
doesn't work.  The last thing on earth that should happen to any young girl
is for you to do unto her as you would like to be done to.  She does give
you credit for keeping sick nasty pervs away from decent people.  If your
role play keeps one innocent kid from getting raped for real she's in favor
of it."

   "What about you?"

   "Well hon, that's complicated.  Right now, I think you should come
inside with me.  Harold and Bob are there but the guy we're waiting for
hasn't arrived yet.  You'll meet him at the door and invite him in.  He's
expecting a girl home alone so he's going to be startled and will probably
panic when he sees the rest of us.  It will work better if I explain to
everyone at the same time.  So, let's go.  Uh, you can also leave your
underpants in the car.  You won't be needing them."

   Mary got out and walked around the front of the car to stand by the
passenger door.  He actually thought about refusing but had to admit he
knew from the start what sort of costume party this was going to be.  At
least he knew more about it than the guy who knocked on the front door a
short time later.  If he was surprised that Timmy didn't look very girlish
it was immediately topped by the two men stepping out from behind the door
and escorting him to the kitchen.  Relieving him of the paper bag he
carried, they shoved him into a chair across the table from Mary, then
covered the exits.  Gesturing Timmy to the remaining chair his mom started
talking.

   "Hello Martin, if that's your real name, we might as well start with you
showing me some ID.  Just drop your wallet on the table.  If you behave
yourself you'll get it back.  If you don't do as you're told, the wallet
will be the least of your worries."

   She checked a couple pieces of ID and riffled through the bills to get a
rough estimate without stopping to make a full count.

   "What's in the bag Bob?"

   "A six pack, condoms, and a tube of KY."

   "Six pack, sex pack, and lube, huh?"

   "I can explain!"

   "I'm sure you can Martin.  Nice of you to use your real name by the way.
If I had nothing better to do than listen to some interesting fiction I
might let you try.  We only have use of the hall for the afternoon and I'd
rather we get the most out of it.  This is Tina, or would be if he was
really the girl you met in that chat room.  You should know Timmy, that
Martin thinks you're so mature and worldly for a twelve year old that he
just had to meet you in person.  Of course, in chat, Martin is sixteen and
borrowing his mom's car to come over here.  While he's closer to forty it
might actually be his mom's car if they both live at the same address. 
Forgive me.  That was a cheap shot.  While I don't mind embarrassing the
pervert stalking my child there is no need to be petty."

   "I want a lawyer!"

   "No you don't.  Let me assure you, the very last thing you would want
right now is a lawyer.  You see, that would mean I turned over the chat log
and the pictures you sent to the police and you would be under arrest.  The
only time anyone is concerned about their rights is when those rights are
being taken away.  No, we're still casual acquaintances chatting around the
kitchen table.  If you're smart you'll do what you can to keep it that way.

   "I could give the logs to Timmy.  Some of your suggestions were
interesting and he might like to know what he offered to let you do. 
Seeing him embarrassed doesn't bother me as much as it used to.  However
there isn't any reason for gratuitous humiliation.  Let me bring you up to
speed and we'll see where it goes from there.

   "My son probably isn't any more obsessed with sex than the average
pubescent male.  They're all candidates for protective restraint.  What he
does have is a little extra empathy.  I'm not sure if he started wondering
what it would be like for the girl before or after he found out that some
perverts didn't care as long as their fuck toy was young enough.  While we
haven't discussed it in detail I'd wager he explored countless variations
of the same basic fantasy before encountering it in real life.

   "Timmy isn't homosexual and certainly not trans-gender.  He's not
looking for some guy to fall in love with.  He's way too boyish to even
consider becoming a girl in either the social or biological sense.  What
captured his imagination is the idea of an adult straight man being so
aroused, so eager to have sex with a twelve year old, that the gender of
the child is irrelevant."

   "You're shittin' me!"

   "Nope, it's the straight, well maybe slightly bent, truth.  He's a
substitute girl, an alternative girlfriend, target of opportunity for a
mindless erection.  At least he is now.  At first he didn't have the nerve
to actually try it.  There were far too many fantasies closer to the
mainstream burbling up in the hormone drenched lump of gray matter he uses
for a brain.  While I doubt that he was subconsciously seeking to fulfill
his fantasy the afternoon he climbed into a strangers van, having mentally
rehearsed the role so many times allowed him to perform in a manner that
may have saved his life."

   "So, he's not a...?"

   "A virgin?  Not hardly.  His first experience with a man was
uncomfortable in more than a physical sense.  It was humiliating, even
frightening.  Perhaps the most degrading aspect was being unable to conceal
his state of sexual arousal, culminating in a rather intense orgasm.  His
first time with a girl was quite tame in comparison, though much more
satisfying.  His preference is clear.  However, the excitement of this
unusual role play became addictive almost immediately.  I've since learned
that it was only his second experience along these lines when I
inadvertently walked in on him."

   "You mean he was..."

   "Bare naked, receiving anal intercourse, and quite vocal.  I was beyond
shocked.  Certainly I was aware of degenerates serving prison time for this
sort of thing.  I also expected some degree of experimentation on the part
of a boy entering puberty.  To discover my supposedly innocent little boy,
being sexually abused by some pervert for their mutual gratification was...
there simply are no words.

   "If I didn't care about Timmy more than anyone on earth I...  I don't
know what I'd have done.  There just isn't any sort of automatic response
to something so far outside prior experience.  I tried to be understanding,
supportive and non-judgmental.  The more I researched the subject, the less
inclined I was to give him the benefit of my doubts.  Recent events tore
the whole issue wide open.

   "I abused my parental authority by putting him in a wildly inappropriate
situation.  Maybe I was trying to push him so far past his limits he'd
reconsider what he was doing.  Maybe that's nothing but an excuse to
justify my own perversity.  You don't need the details.  Unable to resist
or escape, he rebelled by escalating the assault into something completely
depraved.  As if to say, 'You think that's nasty?  Watch this.' I didn't so
much lose control of the situation as have my face rubbed in the fact that
I never really had that control to begin with.  I was the one forced to
reconsider her role in how things played out.  Never in my life have I been
so deeply ashamed of anything I've done.

   "Until now.

   "Uh?  Mom?"

   "What dear?"

   "You can't actually make me do it with a total stranger.  You just
*can't*."

   "Don't be silly hon.  I'm your mother."

   "I was beginning to wonder."

   "I can make you do anything with anybody, just this once, or over and
over until you forget how to blush and can hardly walk."

   That certainly got their attention.  You could have heard a mosquito
fart.

   "Oh my, that wasn't very ladylike was it?  Since none of the etiquette
books have a chapter on pimping your child I'm sort of flying blind here. I
know we don't have the time to dance around the subject with polite
euphemisms and everyone too embarrassed to ask for what they really want.

   "So Martin, 'Tina', made it quite clear that normal intercourse was out
of the question.  After she expressed a willingness to experiment with oral
and anal, whether she actually has a vagina hardly seems relevant.  I doubt
if anyone trolling for preteens could be described as a, 'tit man'.  The
girl you wanted to hook up with doesn't exist.  However, there may be a
reasonable facsimile available."

   "You actually want me to have sex with your son?"

   "Of course not!"

   "But mom..."

   "Yes Timmy?"

   "You just made a big thing about being able to make me do it."

   "And I can.  Unfortunately the reverse isn't true.  I can't stop you
from doing anything you want badly enough.  Your last session with Bob is a
perfect example.  Having set things in motion, I was certainly in no
position to object when you took them in a direction that shocked and
embarrassed me.  My first impulse was to punish you, but really, if I
didn't want to know I shouldn't have asked.  Bob and Ellie shared that
opinion.  In fact, they were amused that you'd discovered a way to push
back at me for trying to micro-manage your sex life.  Ellie thinks you
should be able to, 'throw it in my face', that way any time I get too
annoying."

   "It really upsets you that much?" Ellie told me it makes you horny."

   "I?  I don't want it to.  It isn't fun.  I feel like the worlds
creepiest pervert.  It's like, when I see you and Billy together I can't
help thinking about a couple of cute kids having fun.  If I'm in the room
while some pervert is raping you, I become physically aroused.  The more
intense your own experience, the greater effect it has on me.  The, uh,
activity doesn't have to be enjoyable, just intense."

   "What about Harold and Bob?"

   "Today they're insurance, like having a spotter when you're lifting
weights or a bouncer at a club."

   "I don't have to fuck them?"

   She flinched a little at the crude language.

   "Them or anyone else.  I'd be much happier if you didn't."

   As far as he knew, his mom had never lied to him.  There were things she
didn't tell him.  There were times he would have done something different
if he knew more about what was going on.  But she had never actually lied
to him.  He stood up, took the wallet from the table, and gave it back to
Martin.

   "When we get home I'll make sure she deletes the other stuff."

   "Thanks kid.  This whole thing is just too weird."

   "Is it?  Really?  People get horny for different reasons.  Using that to
make you play her way, that's wrong.  But the rest of it?  If I pretend
that some old guy is using me instead of a young girl, well, there are guys
like that, right?  If one of them wants to play with me instead of making
some girl do it for real?  Ok, it's illegal, and perverted, and I don't
even want to think about my friends and neighbors finding out what I do. 
But is it really so bad?  Show me your cock."

   "What?!"

   "Slide your chair back from the table, open your fly, and pull out your
cock.  Don't be shy.  I'm not going to be embarrassed if you have a hardon
or offended if you don't.  Nobody is going to force you but if you don't we
all might as well go home."

   He was obviously nervous and embarrassed, more so as Timmy knelt between
his spread thighs.

   "I haven't seen a lot of them.  It looks nice.  I bet I can get it
really hard.  Will you let me play with it?"

   "Here?  In front of everybody?"

   "Uh huh, mom's the only one that might get upset and right now I can't
imagine anybody caring what she thinks."

   "I've never done anything with a boy."

   "Don't think of it like that.  I'm young and horny and I'll make you
feel sooo good if you let me.  She talked me into not doing anything for a
few days.  I could go home and get off solo but it's better if I can make
her sorry she dragged me into this.  You can't actually slap her around for
tricking you.  Isn't making her uncomfortable the next best thing?"

   "When you put it that way?  go for it."

   While she wasn't in a position to see exactly what her son was doing,
the shared looks and grins of the men in the room told her Timmy was pretty
damn good at it.  Kissing, licking, stroking the shaft, then waiting to
make eye contact before wrapping his lips around the head for another taste
of pre-cum.  They were pretty sure nothing was going to make Martin leave
before getting a load off when Timmy stood up.

   "You like my costume?  Bob likes me to wear lipstick sometimes.  With
it, in girl clothes, it can be hard to tell if I'm a girl, or something
else."

   Lowering the zipper he let the costume fall around his ankles before
stepping out.  While his own erection made it obvious he was a boy, the
scarf, nylons, and heels left what sort of boy open to debate.  It was time
to remove any doubts.

   "I know I was taking a chance.  Your cock looked nice, and smelled nice,
and the taste of pre-cum is so much better than latex.  If you want to use
one now that's ok.  But if you have anything nasty I probably already
caught it, and it will drive mom nuts if you ride me bareback.  I'd kind of
like that."

   With the tube of KY in one hand, he bent over until his upper chest
rested on the table and spread his legs.

   "I don't need to stretch it.  You'll have more fun if I'm nice and
tight. I do need to get it really slippery and relaxed enough that you
won't tear me up.  Right mom?  You wouldn't want me *injured* while I'm
being raped, would you?  Get next to me so she can see me stroking you
while I get your cock nice and slippery too."

   It wasn't long before he had everything as wet as it was going to get.

   "Now get behind me.  Put the head of your cock against my hole.  Don't
shove!  Hold still and let me push myself onto you.  Hey mom!  Don't
pretend to be looking somewhere else.  Bob and Harold couldn't drag you
away from this.  Uh!  There, the head's inside.  Grab my hips.  Go a little
deeper, then pull back until my hole is gripping the shaft right behind the
head.  Oh?  yesss!  Again, slow and easy, a little deeper this time. 
That's it.  Take your time.  Sometimes it's fun to think about some sex
creep just pulling my pants down and ramming it in.  In real life this is
better.  Don't you think so, mom?"

   "I?  Uh..."

   "Maybe that's what you really want, some gorilla ripping my clothes off
so he can make me a woman.  Too bad, today is all about making Martin
happy. I'll bet from where he's standing I look exactly like a skinny,
short haired girl.  Do you want to run your hands over my flat chest?  Play
with my hard little nipples?  Am I girl enough for you?"

   "Oh Christ!"

   "Yeah.  Like that.  In some ways I'm better than a girl.  I know
*exactly* how it feels to have a hot slippery hole around your cock.  I
know more than a girl ever will about the pleasure you're feeling from
making me do it.  In a completely different way I'm exactly like a girl,
not just any girl, I'm talking about that perverted bitch I have for a
mother.  I understand the thrill she gets seeing her innocent little boy
stripped naked and forced to please a man.  I feel it too, so strong
nothing else matters.  Isn't that right mom?"

   For a minute her mouth worked as if she was trying to say something but
the words just wouldn't come.  Then she sat there blushing, until his next
words drained the blood from her face.

   "You'll lie to yourself or anyone else, pretend to care about my
welfare, say you're protecting me.  Then break the law, set me up with the
kind of people you wouldn't admit you know, let them get their kicks so you
can get yours.  Well I have a special treat for you.  Get out of that
chair. Lie down on the floor, on your back, with your face under me. 
You're gonna have a pervs eye view of my dick waving around while his is in
me.  We're going to do a little, "chicken or egg", kind of experiment. 
We'll find out if the thought of cumming on your face while he fucks me is
enough of an extra special thrill to make me cum on your face while he
fucks me.  Go on, don't worry about us.  We're not going to think any worse
of you than we already do."

   Mary got up feeling like this had to be a dream or some sort of
hallucination.  Being in the same room with Timmy while a pervert used him
was already past kinky.  This was so over the top that she didn't want to,
didn't want to even try, to imagine what might happen if she *didn't* do as
she was told.

   "You missed some of the pre-cum.  That's ok.  You know right where to
put the back of your head.  Best if you get under the table with your head
towards my feet.  That way I'll still cum on you even if I overshoot.  I
don't think you need to ask me if I care about cum stains on your clothes.
I suppose you could take them off.  Nobody here is going to waste time
staring at an attention whore when they could be watching a real one.  Ooh,
maybe I'm wrong.  You couldn't see the way Martin's cock jumped inside me
at the thought of you laying there naked, waiting to be my catch rag."

   "Take it you slut!"

   "Oops!  It feels like Martin just got happy.  I'm not quite there yet.
How about it Harold?  Think you can push me over the finish line?"

   "Uh.  I'd rather not.  You're cute enough, and I'm not that fussy about
age, but it turns me off that I'm queer and you're not."

   "I didn't ask if you wanted to.  I asked if you could.  You helped mom
with some twisted shit.  There's video of me getting raped, and loving it,
on the dark web because of you.  Sure you cleaned it up.  Somebody could
pass me on the street after watching it and never know it was me.  That
doesn't make it right.  For the rest of my life, every time I see news of
some creep busted with child porn, I'm going to wonder if my vid is part of
it."

   "Yeah?  Well?  I'm sorry about that."

   "Don't be.  There's gonna be hundreds of times in my life when I'll get
so horny thinking about it that I'll have to jack off.  You didn't have a
problem with mom making me do it.  I'll bet that's it.  She could pretend
what she did wasn't rape because it wasn't her dick.  You could tell your
conscience to shut up because *you* weren't forcing me.  Then we found out
I get off being naked and helpless while some creep pervs on me.  I just
got done being queer for a straight guy.  Make me be straight for a queer."

   "When you put it that way..."

   Harold must have been more turned on than he was willing to admit.  Even
with plenty of lube Timmy expected to be sore by the time he got a load
off. The blend of lube and spunk Martin had left was coating his thighs and
soaking the tops of his stockings when Harold added his own to the mix. 
What he didn't expect was the combined thrill and frustration of being
brought one more time to the edge of an orgasm without quite getting there.
Before he could say anything Harold stepped aside and Bob took his place.

   "You're definitely your mothers son, you perverted little slut.  You
want to guilt trip her for what she did?  Ok, I'll help you play that game.
But don't try to bullshit me.  I'm not so blind I can't recognize a spite
fuck when I see one."

   "You think I'm fucking my mom?"

   "Better.  You've got her so knotted up inside she doesn't know whether
to frig herself silly or get professional help.  So...  I'm hot and hard
and ready to fuck the snot out of some skinny little slut that hasn't even
got tits yet.  I guess her invitation to the party got lost.  I could go
out and find her, or..."

   "?  use me instead?  In front of my mom and her queer friend?  Oh God,
yesss!  Do it!  Make me be a girl!"

   "Feel the head of my dick against your hole?  Push yourself onto it.  Oh
yeah!  That's my girl!  Again!  If I'm going to make you do it, I might as
well make you do the work.  I don't even need to see your cock to know
you're hard enough to drive nails.  You're such a twisted little perv. 
It's not the sex that's getting you hot.  It's being used, knowing the
pleasure your tight slippery ring is giving me as you stroke my cock with
it."

   Timmy felt it let go, his first hands free orgasm.  His mom was under
the table he was bent over.  He didn't actually see her get splashed?  was
a little surprised to realize he didn't really care.  It didn't matter to
him as much as he thought it would.  Everyone was pretty quiet as the party
broke up, embarrassed that things had gotten so out of control.  Or at
least wanting to believe they had lost control over what happened.  A few
days later he was at the kitchen table while his mom got supper ready.

   "Bob called.  I?  Uh?  there isn't much point in having a chaperon."

   "I guess?  unless?"

   She pretended to focus on the stove in front of her but they both knew
she was stirring a different pot.

   "Hon?  The truth isn't always?  pretty.  It hurt when Bob said we were
alike, you and I.  It was a little more truth than I was ready to deal
with. How much do you care about him?  Really?"

   "I don't know.  It's fun to have somebody older to hang out with.  After
he got fired I started to miss that.  The other stuff?  Well, you saw."

   "Uh-huh.  I saw it.  Maybe I'm even starting to understand it, or at
least accept it.  I'm not sure I'll ever fully understand how something can
be so repellent and arousing at the same time."

   "Yeah.  It's weird.  We call it being a girl but I don't think most
girls are like that.  What we do?  it isn't making love.  It isn't even
fucking, not for me, not like with Debbie.  I guess it's rape.  I'm a kid
and he isn't.  Even if I was older, somebody that much bigger could make me
do it."

   "Is he?  Making you do it?"

   "I'm not sure anymore.  Before I found out that some creeps don't care
as long as you're young enough I never even thought about it.  You know? 
with a man.  Then, when I thought about it, it was like the same thing only
backwards.  He was with a kid, not a boy, and I was with a sex creep, not a
man.  That I would get stiff thinking about it was more embarrassing than
exciting.  Then I met Bob and everything got sooo messed up I don't know
what to think anymore."

   "Bob was the first?"

   "Billy came later.  Uh, that sounds really bad."

   "It's Ok.  I know you didn't mean it like that.  I'm more concerned
about how this all started.  I suppose you could tell me it's personal and
I should mind my own business, even after what happened the other day. 
Some people think everyones first time is technically rape.  There's no way
you can give informed consent until you know what you're consenting to. 
So, did he force you?"

   "It's not that simple.  Like if some creep grabs a kid off the street,
rips his clothes off, and rams his dick into every hole it will fit, that's
rape.  Right?"

   "I don't see how it could be anything else."

   "What if he's not the first kid?  What if so many kids get grabbed in
certain places that it's on the news and police put up signs telling kids
to play somewhere else, but the kid goes there anyway?

   "It's still rape.  Just being there isn't giving consent."

   "What if he's in one of those places and a stranger offers him a ride?
He knows it's stupid.  He's been told a thousand times never to get in a
car with a stranger, but he does it anyway."

   "Being stupid isn't giving consent."

   "Ok, he's in the car and the guy tells him..."

   "Hon?  I know this isn't easy to talk about, even after, maybe
especially after?  recent events.  I think I know what you're trying to
say. You're not queer.  The whole sex with a man deal really isn't your
thing.  Your big thrill is being used."

   "Uh?  Yeah."

   "So, the harder it is for you to do it, the harder you get thinking
about it.  Eventually, you get so horny you start looking for ways to make
it easier for you to be used.  Like hanging around with a creepy pervert
until he isn't busy doing other stuff."

   "You mean Bob, at the kennel.  The sex stuff was almost a separate
thing. I knew it could happen, any time I was there.  If I kept on going
there I knew it would happen, sooner or later.  Mostly though, I was there
to hang out and help with the chores.  What about you?"

   "Well hon, that's kind of a long story."
   
End of part 10