Author: Lizard69 Title: Monster Summary: The most frightening monster is the one you can't run from. Keywords: MMg, rape, telepath This is a work of fiction. If you have trouble with the boundary between fact and fantasy, don't read it. If non-consensual sex between adult men and a young girl freaks you out, don't read it. 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 2013 by Lizard69. Monster By Lizard69 He looked a lot smaller in person. I suppose I should be used to that by now. Whatever, I almost let him walk past before catching his eye. "Hi Rick. Grab a seat. I've got a cold one waiting for you." As he settled in I continued in a lower voice. "Just in case you're thinking of doing something really stupid, no, I'm not happy to see you, and yes, that is a gun in my pocket. This is the first time you've ever laid eyes on me. You don't know who I am or where I live. I'm going to tell you some things you'll have a hard time believing. Any time you've had enough you can get up and walk away. Keep in mind though that I can put a bullet in your back and if I don't get caught cold I'll have a good chance of making a clean getaway. "We both know that the only reason you're here is because I called you this morning right after you got Leslie off to school. I can't blame you for being a little freaked. You have a seriously twisted morning routine. Having a stranger call out of the blue and give a description of what you just did to your daughter, a description so detailed he almost had to be in the room with you, goes way past weird. The simplest explanation would be that I have you bugged, hidden mike, hidden camera, the whole nine yards. Trust me, if it was that simple we'd never have met and right now you'd be telling some detective you want a lawyer. The truth is so damn strange no sane cop would try to start an investigation. "I'm a telepath. That's not what makes me a freak. I'll let you in on a little secret. Telepathy is as common as sight or hearing. Practically everyone is born with the ability to hear thoughts. One of the first things a newborn baby learns is how to turn it off. Imagine a world where everyone is deaf. Because nobody is listening, spoken language never develops. They have no concept of noise pollution. The reading room at the public library could have a person coughing their lungs out, or someone screaming in agony, or others dragging their fingernails down a blackboard and nobody would notice. A baby born with normal hearing in a world like that would have to go deaf or go nuts. If you've ever watched a newborn you know they can't even see at first. It takes time for the brain to learn how to make sense out of the signals the eye is sending to it. Nobody teaches a baby how to receive thoughts because the handful of people who learn how to send don't know they're doing it. Even if they did know, the few who can transmit lose the ability at puberty. I have a theory that back when humans were hunters and gatherers living in small bands, telepathy developed as a sort of hyper alertness. It served to help a child find lunch instead of be lunch. "That brings us to Leslie. For a telepathic message to rise out of the background noise requires focus and force. Take a kid. Put that kid through an ordeal so overwhelming they can't stop thinking about it and can't keep it secret. Then make them understand their whole world will be torn apart if they tell anyone. Keep the pressure high enough, long enough, and there's a good chance the kid will learn to send telepathically what they're too scared to tell. There's a lot of them but their range is measured in feet, sometimes yards, like a radio transmitter with a nearly dead battery. The only reason I can hear them is that I've suffered a brain injury which somehow managed to wipe out my 'off' switch without destroying the part of my brain that serves as a receiver. By now you're probably convinced I should line my hat with tinfoil and go on about my business, but hang on, it gets even better. "As the kids start to mature their ability to transmit grows. What was a whisper becomes a shout. On top of that there seems to be some sort of feedback involved. Once a kid has made a link to me they can re-establish the connection with much less effort. It's like, if a radio transmitter is strong enough it doesn't matter if the fine tuning on the receiver is right but once you're tuned in the same signal can carry hundreds or even thousands of miles. It starts with being unable to block her out. When her signal gets strong enough she grabs hold and drags me into her head until I'm feeling what she feels, hearing what she hears, looking out through her eyes. So this morning I woke up with a pervert three times my weight pinning me to the bed and forcing a dick as thick as my wrist up my ass while telling me to, 'rise and shine'. By the time she left for school I was really seriously not happy with you. One way or another this isn't going to happen again. "I could shoot you but that might not be enough. There are so many perverts out there that killing you doesn't mean she'll land in a happy home. Hell, it doesn't even guarantee she'll be better off than she is right now. Compared to the way some slime balls get their rocks off you aren't that bad. How would you like to meet a crack head bitch who lets her boyfriend whip her little girl with a wire hanger, because the kid doesn't want to suck some stranger for the price of another rock? I could shoot Leslie but she never asked to be put in this position, and that might not solve the problem either. I've never had a kid die while there was a link. I don't know what might happen and I don't want to find out. It would be great if I could wave some kind of magic wand and fix the world but life doesn't work that way. The best I can do is shut down the link and let you two get back to working out your own issues. "There's a couple of ways to shut down the link. The first is finding somebody she can talk to about what you do to her. Telepathy isn't a 'first choice' way to communicate, it's a last resort for secrets you can't tell and can't keep. The second way is to short out her storage battery. There's a reason kids lose the ability to transmit at puberty. The force that drives the signal is sexual tension. It starts to build when the kid gets old enough to have an orgasm and releases the first time the kid actually manages to cum. After that first orgasm it will never again build up enough to drive a strong signal. The frustration of not getting the release you want is a different thing that doesn't provide the same power. It's no coincidence that all through history people rumored to have paranormal skills were also known to be virgin or at least celibate. Also, being unable to make a link after mating is probably a survival thing. Knowing what your spouse is thinking could drastically shorten their lifespan. "In case you haven't figured it out yet, the only way she can tell what you do to her without the cops getting involved is if she's telling it to some other pervert. Anyone else is running a greater risk by keeping quiet than they would by turning you in. She's ten years old, matchstick thin, and flat as a board. She's also blond, blue eyed, and has a face so cute she could lure a priest away from an altar boy. Finding a pervert who'll listen to her isn't a problem. The problem is getting him to go away afterwards. I think I have a way for you to settle this without going to jail. Leslie will be home in a little over an hour so we better continue at your place. I'll drive. No, you don't have to give me directions." The place was a run down little two bedroom shack that had been orphaned when an industrial park overran the neighborhood fifty years earlier. By now most of the businesses had moved out to better freeway access and used the old buildings as overflow storage. Leslie wasn't just an only child, she'd grown up miles away from her nearest residential neighbors. "Yeah Rick, living down here it's easy to see how you could convince her that your rules were the only ones that mattered. The kids she goes to school with might as well be from another planet. I know the inside of her head better than you do and can tell you for a fact that she'd trip her breakers, go catatonic, before she'd tell some counselor what you've been doing. Want to hear a real good one? She doesn't even hate you. Not one of those prissy little snots frantically trying to, 'save the children', would believe it but it's true. She's not thrilled about the time she spends as daddies little fuck puppet but, hey, she's not wild about doing homework or taking out the garbage either. For her the sex is a special chore that she does because you're easier to live with when you get your rocks off on a regular basis. "So that's the way you're going to pitch it when she gets home. I'm nobody. I don't even have a name. She's going to take off her clothes because that's what her daddy wants her to do. If she's too scared or embarrassed to strip in front of a stranger, YOU are the one who will make her get naked. When I start molesting her she's going to pull away, struggle, ask me to stop. It will get even worse when she starts to become sexually aroused. By the time she's on the edge of cumming she'll be in a blind panic. It's up to you to be her anchor. You'll have to hold her, reassure her that it's supposed to feel like that, tell her that's how it feels for you every time. It's bullshit of course. She's going to cum harder than you have since you were a teenager. Trust me. I've done this before and when she cums so will I, just as hard. Then I'll leave. Once she's had that first orgasm the connection is broken. After that I won't know what she's doing and couldn't care less." He bought it. They all do. Oh it took him a while. He had to walk around the idea and kick the tires before he could take it for a ride, but there wasn't any real resistance. He might have given me an argument if I'd told him to take a hike, or left him sitting in the kitchen while Leslie "showed me her room". But like I'd told him, this wasn't my first time. Sure he was shocked and embarrassed when I proved that I knew his deepest secret, in graphic porn movie closeup detail. But you know, I've met enough of them now I'm almost starting to believe that silly psychobabble about them wanting to get caught. They don't want to go to prison, but for most of them what they're doing is so big it almost kills them to keep it a secret. Every vice cop I've talked to tells me the same thing. If you can pretend to be sympathetic for a few minutes you almost have to shove a Glock up their nose to stop them from confessing. Once they realize I'm not trying to send them to jail, or take their kid away, they start talking. Honestly, they're like overgrown kids themselves, bragging about the greatest toy anyone could own. Or maybe it's more like showing off this really neat trick they taught a special pet. They start out pretty tame, but it isn't hard to egg them on until they're bragging about fucking her in the ass or getting blown in all sorts of places. The strangest thing is that no matter how much force it takes to get what they want, every last one of them thinks he has a "relationship". No shit. I've seen a girl standing there with a black eye, a split lip, and her little muffin so bruised she can't pee without crying, while her rapist babbled on about what a sensitive, inventive, lover she is. Rick was as out of touch as any of them. He heard my comment about Leslie not hating him and started talking about how much she got off on all the different shit he did with her. Even if the dumb fuck couldn't understand that I'd literally been inside her head, I'd made it plain that if she'd had one damn orgasm in her whole life I wouldn't be there. Fortunately Leslie walked in before I executed him for aggravated stupidity. Unlike her dad she picked up on the vibe we had going almost before she was through the door. She started past him but he hooked an arm around her waist while his other hand dumped her book bag on the table. "Hi honey. It looks like this is going to be a special night, but first there's somebody you have to meet." She tried to keep her distance but his hand on the small of her back forced her to step forward or fall on her face. I reached out to touch her cheek and went a little further, slipping my fingers through her fine blond hair, cupping the back of her head. Her shoulders slumped and all resistance drained out of her. I saw Rick smile and reach down to adjust the growing bulge in his jeans. As far as he was concerned that little bit of body English was as good as a full striptease. If he could see the expression on her face he still wouldn't have understood what was going on, but might have gotten jealous. We didn't need an introduction. She knew me better than her dad. I was the one in her head, the one she'd clung to trying to keep her sanity, the rock all her fear and pain and shame had smashed against. Leslie was frightened. She didn't understand yet why I was here but knew instinctively it couldn't be anything good. She was right. Before she could panic I opened the first thread of a two way connection, just a hint of a hope that I wanted to help her. Then I waited. It took everything I had to send that first thread. She would have to do the heavy lifting. Slowly, hesitantly, the threads came. Each was as fine as mental spider silk, but every one widened the connection and made it stronger. Acceptance, friendship, belonging, things she'd heard about but given up hope of experiencing. She couldn't believe it. It was too good to be true. She started testing, sending out images she wasn't proud of. The time she'd been cruel to a pet, or stolen something from a classmate, and lied to cover her mistakes, were sent to see if I'd back off. The more emotional weight the idea carried, the stronger the thread. By the time she got around to her dad all the threads had been woven into a cable that could carry the load, and it was time for me to set the hook. I'd been taking everything with calm acceptance, assuring her that she was still a nice girl, when she sent the image of climbing into her dad's bed after her mom's funeral. I carefully showed only a trickle of interest at her discovering that dad slept nude, and that he expected her to either take off her pajamas or go back to her own bed. He'd let her undress under the covers. Just as she reached the point where she was dropping her panties over the side of the bed, I gave a light tug on the connection we'd established. Her eyes widened slightly and she gave the beginning of a gasp as her awareness slipped out of her own head and into mine. I held her there, steadied her as she looked out through my eyes at the girl she'd seen only in mirrors and photographs before now. This first time wasn't nearly as bad for her as my own early trips in the other direction. Maybe it was all the practice she had wishing she was somewhere else. In any case she was inside with me as she lifted her hand to where I still held her head. Leslie wasn't completely disconnected from her own body. She'd lived in there all her life, but the touch of small fingers on the back of my wrist felt more *real* to her than anything that was happening to the little girl in front of us. It was like watching a movie, only she could control one of the characters. The whole process had taken no more than a minute or two, much less than the time it takes to try describing it, but Rick was already getting impatient. "Don't just stand there baby girl, take your clothes off." The pleading look she gave me would have melted the heart of a normal person. Fortunately for me Leslie didn't have much experience with normal people. Also, she may have been inside my head, but she was still in the visitors quarters. She didn't have free run of the house. I could conceal most of my thoughts even if I couldn't hide the first stirrings of an erection and a growing hunger for the sight of her naked body. Besides, she wasn't looking for help. Really! The idea that I might stop what her father was doing never even occurred to her. Believe me, I know. What she wanted from me was understanding and acceptance. It surprised her a little that I actually wanted to see her bare. More unsettling for her was feeling the same sort of sexual hunger that drove her dad to do things. I released her and pulled my chair out until she could stand between us with the edge of the table against her back. A quick glance at Rick was all I needed to see his eagerness. If he even noticed the dullness of his daughter's eyes, I'm sure he thought it was because Leslie had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and no hope of stopping what was about to happen to her. For a second I wondered what he'd think if he knew I already shared with her a connection more intimate than simple sex. I let my eyes linger on all the delicious details as she watched with me. He couldn't know that this time it was anticipation, not dread, that made her hands shake as she fumbled with the buttons on her blouse. Rick accused her of stalling when she took the time to neatly fold her skirt before stacking it with the blouse on the table. He was right of course but it gave her an excuse to slip the catch on her bra and let it slide down her arms while she still had her back to us. She blushed a little when she turned around. Not because we were ogling her tits, she didn't have any. A pair of dark and puffy nipples had needed the bra to protect them from friction with her blouse. While Rick was raping her this morning he'd kept pinching them, so she'd "remember all day" how he woke her up, and think about how she was going to "kiss him good night". By the time she left for school even the light cotton of her blouse brushing against her nips would have felt like sandpaper. She finished "going away" as she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties and pushed them down. By the time she straightened up, dressed in sneakers and knee socks, anyone but her dad could look into her eyes and see that while the lights were on, nobody was home. I took her hands and pulled her forward to stand between my knees. Rick saw me talking to his little girl without the slightest clue that "Leslie", at least the part of her that made her a unique person, was about an inch and a half behind the bridge of my nose, while the body in front of me was little more than an empty shell. What I was saying was mainly for Ricks benefit but Leslie quit marveling at what it felt like to have a raging hardon long enough to listen. "You're not a baby or a retard. You understand by now that what your dad is doing to you isn't normal. Most ten year old girls don't have three years practice being 'daddy's little fuck puppet'. You don't fight him because sex with your dad is bad enough, being violently raped by the man who should be protecting you is more than you could deal with. Going to the cops isn't an option. As bad as he is, he's all you've got. Besides, the reverse is also true. While everyone you know would be sick at the idea of a grown man so hard up for sex he'd rape his preteen daughter, there's a tiny part of you that goes all warm and fluttery knowing that *you* are all he's got. That's good. I can work with that. "You're going to have an orgasm. I'm going to make you feel so good you'll want to do it over and over. You won't be able to go a whole day without thinking about sex. Normally your dad would go nuts if he caught some other pervert messing with you, but this time is special. Anybody who is bigger and stronger can make you do it. It takes a special connection to make you *want* to do it." Standing, I lifted her to sit on the edge of the table, then had her lean back until her head rested on her book bag. We all wanted her to watch what was happening between her legs but I didn't want her straining. I pulled my chair forward and slipping her legs over my shoulders settled in for a special treat. She already had the, "best seat in the house", looking out through my eyes as the tip of my tongue parted her hairless slit. Being able to jump from that to looking down her firm young tummy at my head between her thighs was exciting for her. Mostly exciting in the sense of being a totally new experience. Her creep of a father had never tried to give her this sort of pleasure. Then again, he didn't have the advantage of being able to feel the sensations my lips and tongue were bringing to her virginal little cunt. Also, with anyone else she wouldn't have been able to feel the rising lust of the pervert molesting her. I felt her hands grasping the sides of my head and pulled them away, pinning her wrists to the table. Daddy was going to have a rough enough time coping with his jealousy. There was no need to have his little girl pulling some strangers face to her crotch. Fortunately her dad managed to do exactly the right thing for once in his miserable life. Moving his own chair to the other side of the table, he held her down with one big forearm across her upper chest and his free hand clamped over her mouth. There was no way he could tell whether she was struggling to get away, or get closer. With the connection we shared I could have taken her from zero to finish in record time. It was certainly tempting. Unless you've been there you have no idea how addicting this sort of sex is, worse than any narcotic. Before my accident, the thought of some pervo using a kid was as repulsive to me as it was to other normal people. Now, I was literally impotent unless I was in her mind as deep as her body. In fact, as long as the link was present, it didn't have to be a girl. There was no shortage of boys with a secret too big to keep that they were scared to tell. Unfortunately, like the girls, all of them were well under the age of consent. Adjusting to life as a sexual predator would have been bad enough. This weird combination of incredible intimacy and immediate loss was worse. Consummating our unusual lust would permanently damage the connection that made it possible. A normal predator, if that's not a contradiction in terms, would have his... well, stable I guess. There would be one or two kids he was active with. Several more would have grown up or moved on for one reason or another. He'd be cultivating others, grooming them, laying the groundwork for, uh, laying them. I had no problem finding kids. I couldn't walk down the street or through the park without passing within range of a possible partner. It was a rare small town that didn't have at least one kid like Leslie. Once a link was made I couldn't move on. There was no place on the planet I could get far enough away to be out of range. After the link was broken I couldn't stay. Without the psychic safety valve the link provided the kid would *have* to tell sooner or later. Right now Leslie was mine in a way no other man would ever have her. When the day came that she had to tell, would she bring the shit storm down on her dad, or the guy who had her once and could never get that close again? Taking time to build slowly had other benefits. I chuckled into her tasty little muffin as her eyes got wider and she started to struggle. Rick thought she was scared. Maybe she was, at least a little. What he couldn't see was that under the table I'd unzipped my fly and hauled out my cock. Hauled might be the wrong word. It sort of implies something massive. No such luck. I don't quite make six inches and it isn't more than half again as thick as my thumb. It was already leaving a damp spot in my briefs. The sensation of having a condom rolled onto an erection was utterly strange to her but she was thoroughly familiar with what came next. At least she was experienced with the receiving end. This time she was looking at it through the eyes of a pervert as I stood up and moved in until only her ankles remained on my shoulders. I'd used a small tube of lubricant to add to what was on the condom itself. Since both of us were present between my own ears, what was happening to her body was a distant thing. As I gradually worked my cock between her butt cheeks until it was pressing against her anus, she felt the incredible pleasure of a young girls ass relaxing, opening to accept the sensitive head of my cock. Her practice at accommodating this sort of invasion combined with my own efforts to make it as easy as possible left us both enjoying the sensations of my own body while hers was something in the background. Lifting her wrists from the table I placed her hands on top of her thighs and started pulling her lovely little ass to meet my slow thrusts. I knew she was only ten but she was built so slim that she could have been younger. Maybe it was just the way her naked body was trapped between two grown men, her own father pinning her down so a total stranger could use her for his pleasure. Not just his own pleasure, I brought one of her hands to my lips, licking and sucking her fingers until they were spit slippery then guided it to her slit. Rick saw me *force* her hand between her thighs and heard me *order* her to frig herself. Leslie and I knew she was ready to beg me to watch her play if daddy's hand weren't clamped over her mouth. She'd been forced to simulate masturbation many times. Only now that she knew the sensations it was supposed to provide was she actually doing the real thing. The pleasure, the hunger, she was getting second hand from me flooded through the body of the child on the table. It's hard to explain. I don't know how much of the difference was between my ears. I know her dad saw something. I don't know if we saw the same thing. No matter how many times he'd done it, the sight of his little angel taking a cock up her ass still excited him. Once he got past his possessiveness, understood that she was still his fuck toy even if it was another mans dick, it was maybe even more exciting. He could concentrate on her without his own pleasure distracting him. That wasn't a shadow of what I was experiencing. This innocent little girl, this child, was... well... Leslie wasn't playing naughty, or making love, she was *FUCKING*, hard, hot, and nasty, for our mutual pleasure. She was racing me to a finish line she'd never crossed before, but sensed was very, very, close. Then it was over. The sensations peaked, merging and blending into into something neither one of us could have experienced or maybe even survived alone. Her consciousness retreated into her own head then rapidly faded away. Not completely, I could still sense her in the distance, but the full connection we'd so recently shared could never happen again. To be perfectly honest, I don't think either of us would ever want it to. There are some experiences so intense that, no matter how pleasurable, you'd rather remember them as a once in a lifetime thing. I zipped up and left without looking back. There was a sense of Leslie looking out at my car pulling away from the curb, her fathers arm around her shoulders the only thing keeping her on her feet. Then Rick was dragging her towards her room, free hand fumbling with his belt buckle, completely unaware of the new found fire that was kindling again between his daughters sweet thighs. I couldn't help wondering how long it would take for him to understand I'd created a monster. The End?