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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
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Pedophile's Lament
by Peter Pan (uds3@hotmail.com)
***
I never wanted to hurt her. I just couldn't hack never
knowing what it felt like. (Mg, extreme-ped, nc, rp,
1st)
***
Maybe you should read this before you make any further
plans? Wish I had been given the same opportunity!
I mean, pre-teen girls are the ultimate prize aren't
they? Who in their right mind would want to shag some
tenth-rate hooker the wrong side of thirty, with carpet
burns across her forehead, inverted nipples and a pussy
starting to look like the Cheddar Gorge, when that cute
little kid next door keeps smiling at you till you
start drooling into your cornflakes, feeling your pulse
rate skirt cardiac trauma, at the same time your dick
starts thinking for itself? Not me - that's for damn
sure!
Anna's family had moved-in maybe six months ago. Upper
middle-class people really, God knows what they had
seen in our decrepit neck of the woods. Couldn't have
been the drab row of 'two-up two-downs' that lined
Wilson Way. Maybe they'd heard about the Poker nights
at Jim Cleaver's place every second Friday and wanted
in?
Whatever, the arrival of the furniture-van that day had
seen most every curtain within a block and a half,
surreptitiously drawn aside by the street's
neighborhood stickybeaks, desperate for anything to
indulge their plebeian over-the-fence chatter in the
coming days.
Eighteen Wilson Way was admittedly one of the better
presented houses in the vicinity - just not the type of
home you would have thought might attract the likes of
Walter Hanson and his young family. Walter was in
advertising so we learned later and to judge by the new
Rover out the front, something less than strapped-for
cash.
Anna obviously had inherited her mother's looks. Cassie
Hanson in her late twenties still, carried herself more
like a senior at College and was generally greeted with
openly jealous, if not outright hostile stares by the
rapidly degenerating womenfolk of Wilson Way of which
my own Julia was a founding member.
Julia last turned me on, shortly after Neil Armstrong
picked up a shoe-full of dust on the lunar surface. Sex
with her had long since passed into robotic obligation
- usually requiring a couple of straight whiskies
afterwards to counter the experience. More often than
not these days, I was imbibing the Red Label ahead of
the dreaded union. Something to lessen the gruesome
reality of the beached whale beneath me.
Possessed of one son and one daughter ourselves - both
had long since married and moved to the South coast,
leaving us to see-out the rest of our lives in company
with the other "might-haves-but-never-actually made-
its" in Wilson Way
Anna on the other hand was the Hanson's only child but
they had made it count. Turning ten just a few weeks
after they moved-in, her birthday party, held beneath a
marquee in the back yard, had been well patronised by
other children of similarly endowed Roveresque
families.
Couldn't tell you at what point exactly I resolved to
indulge my cravings with Anna - probably the day she
moved in!
Now "aggravated pedophilia" requires considerable
planning. Bailing-up a ten-year old girl in her own
front-yard, ripping her dress off, her panties down,
before sucking her sexy little nipples stupid, might be
seen as vaguely anti-social if not downright
disrespectful to some people. Every chance her parents
even might lodge a complaint with the authorities. No,
this required a better blueprint even, than Imhotep's
first draft for the Step Pyramid at Saqqara.
I resolved first to win the girl's confidence and this
was achieved over a period of time, firstly just
chatting to her innocently when she or a school-friend
might toss a ball over the fence or when we would see
each other out the front occasionally. I got to know
Walter quite well and would sometimes make Anna a drink
when he would pop over to borrow either a drill-bit or
some other mechanical appliance of which I had an
entire workshop. The idea being of course that she
become fully at ease at our place.
Julia actually proved invaluable here, missing no
opportunity to wave to the young girl through the
kitchen window. She even picked Anna up from school
occasionally when neither her father or mother could
get there just after three, due to work commitments.
Given the script I had written for myself, and lets
face it - the more I saw of Anna's hot little rear end,
the more desperate my plight was becoming - there could
be no possibility of me afterwards remaining in
England, let alone Wilson Way. The thought of never
seeing Julia again, was simply icing on the cake.
I'd probably miss seeing the kids, although on
refection, Louise was an out and out bitch, while Jeff
and I had never seen eye to eye on anything except that
sexy little waitress he met in a pub at Margate several
years earlier and even she had never come across - even
after I offered her twenty quid. Fuck her!
Every man and his dog seems to have a friend of a
friend who can get you something on the black-market.
My needs were simple - a false passport! Thus, five
grand and three weeks later, I found myself admiring
the forger's handiwork under the strip-light in the
garage one evening, I figured I cut a rather stylish
'Martin Cooper' even if I do say so myself.
'Martin' had himself booked on a long hop to Sydney
Australia. Why Australia? Probably on account of the
comforting distance between it and Wilson Way. Perhaps
some subconscious throwback to the convict thing,
especially in light of my planned illegalities.
Whatever, Armageddon loomed - both mine and Anna's.
Selecting a weekend (and I had arranged passage to
dove-tail with such) that Walter was in Spain on
business, Julia was staying with Louise and her family
in Portsmouth for the weekend, it left only Cassie as a
player of any consequence. Her involvement though was
quite easily eliminated by the simplest of phone calls.
"Hi Cassie, Bill here, Say, don't suppose you have a
bit of milk I could borrow for a cuppa love? Julia used
up the last drop before she went and my leg's not that
great today." I had of course made her aware of my
"dicky knee" weeks earlier - she didn't even notice the
day I started off limping on the wrong one.
"Sure thing Bill," she cooed into the phone, "Be right
over," Like taking candy from a baby!
"Thanks so much sweetheart," I muttered gratefully. It
was the last thing she would have been hearing for a
while. I didn't hit her that hard with the carving
board, but she went down like a sack of potatoes. Had
not my focus been solely on miss fourth grade next
door, I may well have indulged myself with an aperitif,
courtesy of the crumpled, but undeniably sexy form in
the doorway. Even the now awesomely unprotected view
down Cassie's top did not dissuade me from my course
however.
Boy Scouts always come prepared... so do pedophiles -
well, the clear-thinking ones anyway!
I took the small bottle I had hidden away from prying
eyes on the top shelf of the pantry, carefully removed
the lid and shook out several drops into the center of
the rag I kept on hand.
Checking that mommy was gonna be out for a while I
opened the back door and called "Anna, Anna" over the
fence, it being less than six feet to their open
kitchen window.
As it happened, she was out the back doing something.
"Yes Mr Henderson?" she called back to me negotiating
the corner of the quite large garage, home-base to
their upmarket horseless carriage!
"Ohh Anna, there you are," I gushed, "Listen, I don't
want to alarm you sweetie, but your mom just slipped on
a rug in my kitchen and has hurt her leg. Have you got
your dad's cell-phone number?"
Talk about basic psychology - she was round the front
and in our side door before you could say "Thing's
ain't always what they seem kiddo."
Seeing Cassie prostrate on the floor she gave a cry of
shock and ran towards her. Shame I was in the way. An
eighty-five pound, ten year old waif is no match for a
one-forty pound overweight ex boxer. The chloroform
weaved its magic inside thirty seconds and she crumpled
to the floor next to her mother.
First trussing Cassie up like a chaff-bag, I gagged her
with her own panties which I have to say were a rare
privilege to remove. I even allowed myself a few
seconds prolonged eye contact with her trimmed and oh-
so desirable pussy, that nonetheless had this day, to
take second place to that belonging to her daughter.
Carrying Anna up to our bedroom, I gazed at her angelic
face, pretty blonde hair and slim legs, as they rested
fully cradled in my arms. I even allowed myself a kiss
as I lowered her on to the bed. The contact with her
soft - still a child's lips, recalled fleetingly my
teenage years, though never had I been privy to
accompany such youthful perfection.
Wearing just a simple dress as she was, I was in two
minds how to proceed. So many options - so little time.
Beneath that narrow but girlish chest could be seen a
clear outline of Anna's pretty little breasts. Little
more than speed humps currently, I ran my hand across
them, feeling the softness within. Squeezing both
experimentally, I like to imagine the beginnings of a
smile flitted momentarily across her face, logic
dictates however, that this was mere fancy on my part.
She was still out cold.
Encouraged by my daring exploratories, I quickly undid
the top few buttons of her dress, pulling the fabric
aside as I went. The skimpiest of training bras
increased my peristaltic rate and my desire, if such be
possible. Rubbing her breasts through the satiny
material she was all I had fantasised about and more.
Then I saw it... the tiny clasp that held her bra cups
together. I think I shivered in ecstasy. No, I'm wrong,
that was achieved moments later - at the point I
unhooked the thing and exposed those barely-there
breasts to my perverted gaze.
Nothing could be so sexy surely? I inclined my head and
sucked her left nipple softly. This time she did stir
momentarily, making the softest of little noises. I
must have knelt there for five minutes or so drawing
down first one side then the other. It is no shadow of
a lie when I tell you that both those cute little
nipples responded visibly to their new-found therapy.
Unfortunately, so did their owner and thus I was forced
to re-apply a quantity of chloroform to ensure a
further period of non-interruption.
Leaving her topless so that I might not miss any gentle
undulations of those hot little brown-topped mounds as
I worked, I parted now her legs. Kneeling alongside the
coverlet, I peered up beneath the frilly hem. The sight
of those girlish panties caused a rush of blood to
infiltrate areas of my anatomy, that had anything but
restraint on their mind. It wasn't so much a hard-on I
was experiencing, as grid-lock down there.
If there is anything sexier than the illicit aspect of
a very young girl's panties - especially one that is
fresh out of resistance - I'd like to know about it.
Pushing her dress halfway up her thighs, I stared for
what must have been several carnally-charged minutes at
those little green knickers and the curvature of her
developing vulva that even her trusty cotton guardians
were failing miserably to hide. The slightest of
ingresses between the girl's legs delineated her
vaginal ground zero - the event horizon at which point,
light...let alone my finger - could never escape.
A sound startled me, then I realised it was just my own
intake of breath as I rested a hand across the front of
Anna's soft and enticing little mound. I knew I was
damned, but could no more have backed-off at this
juncture than castrate myself with a blunt nail file.
"Tenting" would be a poor metaphor with which to
describe my phallic condition at that moment. What was
resident beneath my zipper was a caged leopard...one
that had been denied food since being weaned.
Taking a hold of the waist-band, I tugged the panties
to her knees revealing both her innocence and the
object of my lustful reflections these past few months
- well, one of them anyway! Two others were already
laid bare a little higher up. Exposed so abruptly I was
lost in my own thoughts as I gazed upon that pristine
work-of-art, the soft curves of her pussy - at this
juncture with the sparsest of hair growth. Kissing her
flush on the labia, I allowed my tongue the fully
indecent pleasure of separating her lips and probing
but a few centimetres beyond. No culinary delights ever
teased the taste-buds so!
Despite remaining fully unconscious, Anna wriggled her
hips perceptibly. This I formally translated as "Lick
me again please," I was happy to comply....several
times in fact. I then arranged her legs so that she
gave the impression of a young whore plying her trade.
Had I any lipstick on hand I would doubtless have
applied a few more garish touches. Understand, when you
have reached the point of depraved actuality that I
have - a fertile imagination is simply a licence to
degrade and humiliate.
The sight was too much for me. Kneeling on the bed I
extracted my swollen partner in crime and staring
alternately at her beautiful moist slit and those
indescribably hot little speed bumps, I caressed myself
to the promised land in record time, not only because I
sought imminent release but because I had always
harbored the urge to come all over Anna's naked body -
which for all intents and purposes it now was.
It was a doozy. By deft aim and/or measured penile
alignment, I managed to spurt one ungodly amount of cum
right across her pussy followed by two less-impressive
but still serviceable deposits of jism that decorated
an area between her right nipple and what in a few
years time, would be her beautifully sculptured
cleavage.
As I sat there afterwards, idly separating her pussy
lips and allowing some of the cum to trickle down
inside her, I was struck by my singular lack of
contrition. I had now violently and indecently abused
an innocent young girl, yet all I felt was a sense of
pride in my achievement, some sort of throwback to the
caveman thing, having conquered by brute force in a
sense, that thing called woman. Sure, ten might be a
tad overdoing the "conquest" bit, but given my track
record of sexual under-achieving the past four
decades....you take what you can. Problem is, the
procreational urge was kicking-in now big-time. I was
on a roll - no way back from Hell!
Figured I would check on Cassie, so not even bothering
to re-zip myself, I took off back downstairs. No change
in the patient's condition. Still slumped on her side
breathing peacefully. Took out a little insurance by
adding a few drops of chloroform to the gag. Better to
be sure!
I really had thought this through well, I was thinking.
On retracing my steps, my erection sprang excitedly
back to life just looking at Anna's semi-disrobed
state. Only one thing I hadn't seen! It took but
seconds to get her dress off, where it joined her
panties on the floor. The training bra followed its
compatriot. Completely naked, she was a dream. Make
that a dream and a half!
That which had eluded my depraved visuals thus far, lay
unsighted beneath her still form. Gently turning her
over I again felt a surge of 'heat' as I stared at her
now fully exposed but perfectly formed little bottom. I
ran a finger down her back, across those delicate hips
and across either cheek. No girl had the right to be
this sexy - especially one at just ten years' old. As
my hands swarmed across those rearward curves feeling
her up, aiding and abetting my tortured condition, I
felt twinges that were building to seismic rifts
between my own legs.
Once again, spreading her legs crudely, that
wonderfully enticing pre-teen pussy was exposed in all
its untouched vulnerability. Glancing around, I
retrieved a pillow that I manoeuvered beneath her hips.
This of course had the effect of raising her backside
rather provocatively and elevating her vaginal entrance
to dangerously accessible levels.
Just bad luck for her I was dangerously accessible I
suppose.
Strangely I didn't want to 'rape" her as such. That had
never been the plan. Hard to describe what exactly the
plan HAD been. I think it was more a case of wanting to
possess her - both sexually and emotionally. Now I
think about it, I probably just wanted to love her!
For all the pent-up desire and need that was coursing
through me, I was ever aware of her youth and innocence
and thus I went to extraordinary lengths to make sure I
didn't hurt her. That I couldn't bear.
Placing the head of my penis at the gates of the city,
I was barely able to make a centimetre before I
encountered her hymen. I knew theoretically there was
some small gap at its base, that was if nothing else, a
starting point. Even the feeling generated by having
the head just marginally inside her outer labia, sent
waves of ecstasy through me. I was actually fucking
that beautiful little blonde tease next door. Reaching
around and under her arms I again fondled those sexy
breasts, slightly more pronounced as they felt at that
angle.
Anna began once more to stir as I applied more
pressure, although she made no obvious attempts to
close up her legs. I had the rag on hand in case of
emergency. So desirous was I to penetrate that virginal
minefield I just kept pressing in. In maybe ten minutes
I had made but barely an inch...something was giving
though!
"Tight" does not adequately address the situation.
Anna's exquisitely soft and yielding pussy was
transporting me to realms of dizzy pleasure. Whether I
actually tore free the hymen itself or somehow managed
to gain entry by fraying the surrounding tissue I don't
know, but quite suddenly all resistance seemed to
dissolve and I was able to slide into her.
Endowed with something less than a wide-screen model,
my penis even in the engorged state it was, comprised
length rather than substance and this may partly
explain my eventual bypassing of the border-control.
The appearance of little more than light spots of blood
here and there stood as evidential markers of Anna's
now fully departed virginity.
I can never adequately explain what she felt like. Even
as I held her hips tightly, entering and re-entering
that narrow channel, just the sight of her pussy being
penetrated again and again, albeit in virtual slow-
motion, rocked my world stupid. For the briefest time I
remained deep inside her - justified almost, to my
warped way of thinking, for what I was doing to her. I
leaned forward and kissed her bottom, the scent of such
warm and youthful skin addling further my senses.
So acute the pleasure, so rapid the escalating need for
release. Parting her legs even further, so that now I
could plainly see the glistening folds of her vaginal
walls as I fucked her - a man hopelessly lost, a young
girl obscenely violated - I let out an involuntary cry
of ecstasy myself as I spurted everything I had deep
into Anna's sadly under-age receptacle.
With the passing of the moment, came finally a
realisation of what I had done. The pleasure receded,
the guilt multiplied. I knew she would be coming round
any moment - had not she wriggled in denial of what was
being done to her during those final seconds of
copulation? I would never know.
Following one last "application" of the dulling fumes,
I tossed the rag in the far corner of the room, a
symbolic 'divorce' from my partner in crime. There was
much to do.
Retrieving the suitcase I had prepared earlier, I took
a last look at Anna's naked and violated body,
observing even now, filmy strings of cum as they exited
her pussy and ran slowly down the inside of her ultra-
slim thighs. "So that's what a young girl looks like
after she's been raped?" I pondered. Not a sight I
would ever be likely to forget. I left the room and
descended the stairs.
Stepping over Cassie's still immobile form, I went
straight to the garage and reversed the car out post
haste. It didn't matter who saw me I figured.
Parking near the fully deserted dockland twenty-five
minutes later, I checked the lie of the land. No one in
sight. The battered old Ford I had acquired under a
false name many weeks earlier waited patiently just
across from the huge dumpster. Tossing my suitcase in
the back I retrieved my passport and ticket I had
locked in the glove box the previous night. I quickly
removed the false plates I had attached to it and
replaced them with the originals - just in case anyone
had noticed the car there the last day or two.
Even as I sped down the M25 Orbital the action replays
started. Once more I could see and feel myself slowly
penetrating Anna's deflowered pussy again and again. I
knew then that some cute little schoolgirl in Australia
was going to have a bad day in the coming year...
perhaps several were.
Leaving the Ford in one of Heathrow's inter-connected
parking bays I quickly located the Qantas check-in.
Martin Cooper was on his way! Just fifty minutes before
boarding I figured I had time for a refresher at the
Island Bar. It would take the police more than twenty
four hours to even find our car at the docks by my
reckoning. I would be just about touching down in
Australia by then.
Packed as always, I had exited the bar and was walking
towards the departure lounge, having heard the
announcement that Qantas Flight 10 to Sydney Australia
was "now boarding."
The absolute last thing I was expecting...
"Hey Bill, What the hell are you doing here?" It was
Walter, back from Spain already.
My system all but shut-down. What the fuck were the
chances of this happening?
"J-just meeting a friend off a plane Walter," I
replied, "Gotta fly mate, catch ya later." Even as I
pushed past him I heard his cell ring.
I got to within ten metres of the air-bridge when three
security guards surrounded me. "If you would just come
with us Mr. Henderson," one of them said, "Couple of
Police Officers would like to talk to you for a
moment.".
"Fourteen years with no parole," ... and my attorney
reckons I got off lightly.
But you know what? I still got memories you people can
only ever dream about!
(c) Peter_Pan 2006
"The Complete Harper Valley"
www.lulu.com/content/106537
Visit "The World of Peter_Pan"
http://www.geocities.com/worldofpeter_pan/index.html
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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not real life. Anyone acting
out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to
many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a
fellow convict in their local prison.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 45