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What A Cuttie 5/5 (M/f-teen slut, schoolgirl, ped)
by Anonymous Author (c) 1995
***
As Sophie prepared a meal for him, Ian's thoughts returned to his
other little girl-friend, twelve year old Juliette. He found himself
in something of a dilemma. Sophie would go up the wall, if she found
out about Juliette. In fact, given the story she'd just dreamt up, he
found the potential consequences quite horrifying!
Unlike Soph, Juliette couldn't be considered a slut. In fact she was
as innocent and naive as they came, though the apparent subservience
of her letter suggested that she'd do pretty much anything that made
him feel good. He begin to wonder what he might do that would allow
him the pleasure of both girl's services at the same time.
Sophie walked in, a little trail of cum running from the inside of her
thigh, down to her knees. "Ian darling. I've made you some dinner!".
Ushering me to the dining table, she presented a plate of Steak au
Poivre and vegetables, with a bottle of french Chablis. "Mum will kill
me when she sees the wine's missing. Still, you know I only want the
best for you babes." I was no connoisseur, but this girl could cook,
and we both enjoyed the immaculately cooked meal.
As we completed the main course, I poured and drank the last drop of
Chablis. Seeing the empty glasses, my cute fifteen year old waitress
asks whether I want to open another bottle. "I think Dad keeps his
wine in the cellar. Do you want to choose one?". I was beginning to
develop a taste for the expensive food and drink, so nodded, and
followed Sophie to the hall, and down the stone cellar steps.
As we reached the foot of the old house's foundations, Sophie flicked
on the light-switch and gasped. The large stone walled room, certainly
did contain a tall rack of wine bottles. However, the cause of
Sophie's gasp was an array of pornographic posters, whips, and chains
that hung from the walls. "Your mom and dad must spend a lot of time
down here!" I said, sniggering. Sophie blushed, but scanned around the
room, noticing a large trunk placed in one corner.
Whilst I removed the cork from a bottle of wine, Sophie wandered over
to the trunk and opened it. She pulled out a thick sheep-skin rug that
covered its contents, waving it, then allowing it to drop to the
floor. Her next discovery seemed to be a bunch of black silk.
"Wow...It's from the party" she exclaimed. I must have looked blank,
since she continued "I had a fancy dress party to celebrate my
fourteenth birthday. My sister wore this. It's a french-maid costume."
As the held up the outfit, I saw that it was tiny, maybe 2' from top
to bottom. "How old's your sister Sophie?" "Oh, Melissa's only ten.
Don't you think that its cute?" "Sure is" I responded, wondering what
the hell her mom and dad were doing with it stashed in this apparent
den of iniquities.
Dropping the little dress to her feet, SOphie took the bottle of red-
wine from my hands. Lifting it to her pouty pink lips, she took a gulp
of wine, most of it running down her chin and staining the kimono.
"What is it about you Ian? I just want to be dirty when you're with
me..." she said, smiling. "Do you like it?".
"Yup Sophie. I guess I do.". As I spoke, I felt the urge to fuck the
girl re-awakening in my groin. Sophie was gazing at the distinctive
bulge with interest, as she pulled out a couple of magazines, and a
thick, leather-bound photo-album from the trunk.
As she peeked inside the magazines and album her eyes widened. "Shit!"
she exclaimed. "What is it I?" I asked, but re-closing the covers, she
shook her head. "You can look at them later. You just lie down on the
rug, and let me go and fetch the desert!".
For reasons unbeknown to me, she picked up the little black-silk
maid's dress before venturing up the stairs, as I looked around the
room. Placed on a small table nearby was a CD-Player, so picking out
an INXS album, I inserted the disc, hit the 'play' button, and filled
a large tumbler with some more wine.
As I lay back, listening to the music, I finished the glass, refilled
it and soon had finished the bottle. I was starting to feel distinctly
tipsy, as I closed my eyes, waiting for Sophie's return.
I don't know how long I slept, maybe an hour, maybe two. Anyway, when
I felt a hand caressing my long, hard cock, and the cold on my legs
(suggesting that my pants had somehow been removed) I guessed she was
back, and opened my eyes. Unsure of the sight in front of me, I
blinked, then looked again. Sophie had stood up, to my side, and,
carrying a small tray, had somehow dressed herself in the tiny fancy-
dress french-maid's costume!
The black satin was unbelievably tight around her torso, its little
puffed lace-trimmed shoulders digging into the flesh of her upper arm.
Just below a pink-ribbon choker that surrounded her neck, the two
nipples of her full breasts peeked out. The costume had been designed
for a flat-chested little girl, and the only way she could fit inside
of it, was through allowing her tits to be pulled way up, their upper
mounds bulging out of the frilled neck. As I looked on, she simply
lowered her chin, keeping her arms subserviently behind her back, and
licked the two exposed little pink erect nipples at once with a slow
swipe of her tongue.
As my eyes looked down the dress, I saw its flared skirt and multiple
frilly under-skirts start halfway down her stomach, their hem
finishing just high enough to expose a narrow length of skin above a
tight pair of panties. A suspender-belt held up a pair of white fish-
net stockings, terminating in a pair of cute victorian-style ankle
boots that tightly clasped her feet.
She did a quick twirl for me, the many skirts riding up horizontal,
and I was shocked to notice how deeply the panties dug in to the young
flesh of her nubile bottom. Registering my concern she said "The
panties are Melissa's too" with a smile. "Do you think that they're
too small for me?" I wasn't going to complain. I found the bondage
imposed by the far-too-small costume to be very sexy, and smiled so
that she knew I approved.
"Can we play a game Ian? I want to be your docile, subservient naughty
french maid, and you can be my rich English Lord and master!". "Sure!"
I replied. Standing up from the rug, I walked to, and sat down on, a
deep red leather arm-chair that was placed in a corner of her parent's
make-believe 'dungeon'. Relaxing deep into the seat, I joined in the
game, ordering my pretty, blonde slave-girl to bring me my desert.
Keeping her legs together and straight, she bent down and picked up
the tray. Her ass towards me, I enjoyed the sight of the black silk
dress, and white lace underskirts as they popped up, revealing the
panties deeply pulled between the cheeks of her ass. The tight
knickers even penetrated the cleft of her labia, providing a clear
view of her blonde-downed cunt for my pleasure.
Turning round, eyes subserviently down, she walked towards me, swaying
her lithe young hips with each step. "Your desert master" she
commented demurely, placing the tray on my lap. I took a mouthful of
it, and realised that she trifle tasted like she'd made it with pure
alcohol. "You call this desert!" I exclaimed, playing the game. With
that I raised the dish, and emptied the results of her culinary
efforts onto the dusty stone cellar floor.
She smiled, then returning to her part, mouthed a coy pout. "Must I
lick it up master?" she asked, the desire in her voice far to obvious
to be mistaken. "Yes my little french tramp!". "I know that I'm a
tramp master. I'm a whore, a brazen hussy, a strumpet, and I don;t
know why you keep me. I deserve to be punished my lord. " Before
kneeling on the floor, the took one of the small canes that hung onto
the cellar walls, and passed it to me.
As she lowered her sweet young face to the mess on the floor, her
skirts rose up, and without leaving my chair I brought the cane hard
down on her pantied buttocks. "Lick it up you dirty bimbo slut!" I
ordered, as she rubbed her face into the dusty mess of fruit, jello,
and sponge her cute pink tongue lapping away. "I deserve worse than
this Lord. You are too easy on me, and I will never learn to be
better." Needing no further encouragement, I repeated the thrashing of
her buttocks, enjoying the Swish and Crack as the cane did its worse.
After ten or fifteen swipes, I realised that the wine had taken its
toll on me. "Sophie - will you stop for a moment - I need to use the
john" I said, but she wasn't going to leave her character that easily.
Her eyes sparkled with delight as she looked up, saying "No my lord. I
should be your toilet. You must teach me that it is all I'm worth!"
Her face was covered in the trifle remains as she spoke, some of it
dripping onto the lace apron that fronted the costume. As I stood up,
she eased down my underpants, taking my soft penis between her
fingers.
I tried to release my full bladder but it wouldn't work. "I can't
Sophie - It's too filthy!". "Aww, Please Ian? Please try for me?" she
said in a little girl voice. My prick pointed towards the apron, I
finally felt a jerk, and a small shower of piss erupted, landing on
her apron and thighs. She immediately brought her tongue to my cock-
head, licking the droplets of urine that remained. "Yes Ian.... Yes
Please!" she exclaimed, as, unable to prevent it, my bladder released
and a steady stream of pee started to pour into her mouth. She took a
gulp, then moved her hair under the flow, then sprayed the steamy
yellow smelly liquid over her face, smearing her carefully applied
make-up. As the pressure of the flow started to drop, she took my
prick back into her mouth, closing her lips around it, and with her
adams apple bobbing up and down, started swallowing my pee.
Only after the last drop of piss had been sucked from my cock, did she
stop to breath for air. Her hair was soaked to the scalp, little
trails of piss dried on her face, and the maids costume showed patches
of a vague yellow hue. As she knelt, looking up at me, she said
"Master, I need also to piss. What shall I do?". "I don;t know" I
replied. "What do you suggest?".
The slutty nymphet, wandered over to a sofa and picked a small
cushion. Returning to the crate, she closed its lid, then placed the
cushion on the floor by its side. I couldn't guess what her intention
was, but guessed it would be dirty.
Lying on the floor, her head on the cushion, she raised her legs onto
the crate, then, arching her legs and back and pushing towards the
crate with her hands, she lifted her cute behind so that it sat on the
wooden box. Her head, remaining on the floor, was 2-3 ' lower than her
ass, her body angled at 45 degrees. She then pulled her knees back,
until they touched her breasts, her thighs slightly parted in a baby-
doll pose. Pushing a hand under her tight panties, she grunted, and at
first I didn't understand what she was doing. It then became clear, as
a dark stain of urine begin to soak into the pretty, cotton, briefs.
Soon, a little stream of urine was visible, running onto her tummy and
under the bodice of her dress, before rea-appearing between her
crushed breasts. Angling her neck, she opened her mouth, putting her
tongue to this high cleavage, and started lapping at her own warm
urine. Some missed her tongue, running into the locks of her hair,
before dripping into the soft cushion on which she lay. As she tried
to swallow, the pungent liquid made her cough, bringing urine up
through her nose. Sometimes the stream would dribble around her mouth,
into her pretty blue eyes, that reddened as she resolutely kept them
open.
This had to be the most sluttish exhibition I had ever seen a girl
perform. And that included pictures of old-tarts giving donkeys a
blow-job. Of course, my S&M novel went further, as did Sophie's story
about the school-girls, but the difference was that this was real, and
she was in ecstasy! I could see her finger furiously rubbing her
clitoris, under the wet, and now transparent, panties. As the stream
of urine diminished, her body jerked in the throes of orgasm, and
turning her head she smiled, and blew me a kiss, a drop of orange
piss, running from the corner of her slightly parted lips.
"Did that please you master?" she asked. I nodded, but looked down at
my penis that stood erect and throbbing between my thighs. "Bring me
the books you were looking at now, Slave" I asked. Shaking her head
she replied "No my Lord, I can't do that." "Sophie? Did you just
disagree with me?"
"Yes I did" she said quietly. "I shouldn't have done. It was very bad
of me. You must cane me again". She lifted her damp middle finger to
her lips, and sucked its end cutely. Walking to the wall, she selected
a small leather strap, and handed it to me. Then, returning to the
wall, she slipped a wrist into a small manacle that was attached via a
chain to the thick stone wall. "Master, I am worried that I may cry
out or try to move, and that would be naughty. I must be restrained
and gagged." I couldn't see anything with which to gag her, and told
her so. "There is something Master". "What?" I asked. "My panties
master..."
Without waiting for my assistance, she used her free hand to peel off
the piss and cum soaked cotton knickers, stepping out of them. "Once I
am gagged I won;t be able to tell you when to stop Lord. I think that
it is good for me to be completely at your mercy. You will be able to
do absolutely anything to me, and I deserve the harshest punishment."
With that, she lifted the panties to her lips, pushing them in,
between them, until her cheeks bulged with the sodden material.
I wasn't too sure about going through with this. I knew that I was
very highly sexed, but Sophie made me feel like a virgin. Her eyes
pleading with me, I wandered to her, and snapped shut the other
manacle. Putting on a show for me, she rested her cheek against the
cold stone wall, arched her back, and widely parted her long straight
legs, her little boots pointing slightly inwards.
Raising the little whip, I started by thrashing her ass until it was a
wonderful deep shade of pink, then moved my blows lower, hitting the
backs of her legs between the stocking-tops and the lower curve of her
buns. The harder I struck, the more she arched her back, pushing her
sweet behind towards the pain-inflicting tawse. As my arm tired, I
finished with a few sweeping undercuts, directing the whip up into the
valley of her young cunt, and making her jump in the air with pain.
Finally I opened the manacles, and released her, and with a few
quavering steps, she collapsed onto the rug.
"Are you alright Sophie?" I asked, rushing to her. Tears came from her
eyes, but she was smiling. "Yes Ian, that was lovely."
After fetching some baby-lotion from the upstairs kitchen, I helped
her out of the dress, and saw deep red marks where the tight material
had bit into her. Placing her on her stomach, I rubbed the lotion into
her sore ass, allowing by fingers to run between the crevice of her
cheeks, and enter her tight little bottom-hole. I positioned the head
of my penis into the cleft, and let her feel it, poised at the
entrance. "Go on Ian" she whispered. "Please, fill my ass with your
love." I easily slid into her tight rectum, aided by the slippery
cream, and massaged her shoulders as I pistonned in and out. After
moments, I felt myself cumming, and, pulling out, thrust myself into
her sweet warm cunt, and filled it with my juices.
After laying together for some time, Sophie took my hand, and moved me
to the steps, pausing briefly to collect the magazines and album from
the floor. From the hall, we took a second flight of steps, and after
putting my clean clothes in her bedroom, and her soiled costumes in
the washer, we took a quick shower, then climbed into bed. Together,
the two of us slept quickly, and soundly, exhausted from our antics of
the day.
When I woke the following morning, my penis was standing hard and
upright, revigorated from a good night's sleep. "Good Morning Ian"
said Sophie. Even when I saw her stood next to the bed, in a short
white night-shirt I wondered if the previous day's events had all been
a dream. Then, placed on her dressing-table I noticed first, her pink
and blue woollen dress, the stains visible even to my bleary eyes, and
next to it the magazines and book from her parent's cellar.
As she walked to the window, opening the curtains and filling the room
with sun-light, I could see the soft-sillohette of her body and thighs
beneath the white material of her bed shirt. My eager-to-please,
platinum blonde fifteen year-old, had made me a coffee and some toast,
so as I enjoyed my breakfast-in-bed I asked her about the magazines
and album. "Sophie? Why wouldn't you let me see them?" "Let me show
them to you Ian, then you'll understand."
She placed them on a bed-side cabinet, then slid into bed next to me.
Placing a pillow under my head, I sat up, as she passed me the first
magazine. From its cover, I could see that it was some sort of
specialist bondage title, a pretty young blonde woman hog-tied up on
the floor, a large red ball-gag filling her mouth. As I flicked
through it, I saw that the magazine showed a tale of bondage, starting
with the fully-dressed blonde visiting an unknown customer in a hotel
room. The final photographs, showed her naked, suspended from a hook
in the room's ceiling, her body tightly roped, with silver clamps
attached to her nipples and clitoris. The photographs were quite well
shot, soft-focus, and pretty despite their hard subject material.
"Well?" I asked. "They're not that bad Sophie. Did you think that
they'd shock me?" "No!" replied Sophie. "But don't you realise?
They're of Mummy!"
I must have blushed, for she added "don't worry Ian, I think they're
quite nice in a funny sort of way. She only looks about 20, they must
have been taken just after I was born, yet her body looks good doesn't
it!" I had to agree, and smiled. "The other's are worse though Ian"
she told me, passing the second magazine.
It bore the title "Baby-Doll" and was filled with photographs of
apparently young girls. Some of them looked rather silly, a bit like
Sophie in the french-maid costume, girls in their late teens, sucking
their thumbs, and dressed in little-girl smocks. Other's, however,
were more convincing, their almost flat chests reminding me of
Juliette. "Who's in this one?" I asked, preparing myself for the
worst. "Oh, no-one. It just helps explain Mom and Dad's interests."
Indicating that I didn't understand, she passed the photo-album,
opening it on my lap.
It was filled with pages of photographs of Sophie, her sister, and
other young girls, in various states of undress. Most were fairly
innocuous - pictures of the two pre-pubescent sisters playing in the
bath, carefully washing each other's bodies. Other's had clearly been
taken with hidden camera's, one showing a naked fourteen year-old
Sophie, lying on her bed, her middle finger pressed deep into her
pussy as she enjoyed a private masturbate. "The worst ones are at the
back" she told me as I flicked through the pages." The final set of
photographs showed her in bed with her little sister, apparently
whilst they were on vacation in Canada. The two young girls were fast
asleep, but standing to their side was Sophie's father, his penis
poking out from his pants. His fist was wrapped around the long cock,
and the second photograph showed a spray of cum arcing towards the
girls' sweet young faces. A final pair of close-ups revealed little
globules of cum in their hair and on their faces, as they slept on,
oblivious.
"You must feel awful Sophie" I told her, but she shook her head. "He
should have told me", she said. "He's a nice man, and I love him. I
would have let him fuck me if he'd asked. It just makes me feel a
little shy, and its a bit of a shock..."
"Your sister looks lovely though!" I commented, and she turned to me
and smiled. "She's very pretty isn't she. But little girl's usually
are at that age. Still Ian, you can't have her. I want her to make her
own mind up about boys, and sex, when she's good and ready."
"Do you like other girls though Soph?" I asked, wondering if my line
of questioning would lead to tears. "I don't know really" she replied.
"I look at Melissa's pictures, and think maybe, if I felt really
horny, I would enjoy making love to her. But I wouldn't because she's
my sister and I don't think it would be right. Why do you ask?"
I knew then that it was time to tell her about Juliette.
THE END