("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._
`6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`)
(_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-'
_..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,'
(((' (((-((('' ((((
K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
_________________________________________
WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
_________________________________________
Scroll down to view text
--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2011. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your
consideration.
--------------------------------------------------------
The Costume
by Dudester (address withheld)
***
When a lifelong bachelor hires a young teen girl from
another country as a part time maid, it sets forth a
series of unpredictable events. (Mf, ped, rom, v)
***
Author's Note: I wrote this story after reading a story
about an Iraqi girl in Phoenix Arizona, killed by her
father because she had become "Americanized". Her piece
of filth father couldn't deal with her blossoming as a
woman. She even tried leaving home and living with a
friend, but the crazed father tracked her down and ran
over her with his SUV. He even backed over her to make
sure the job was finished. His lawyer tried that "Things
justified under Sharia law" crap, but a jury didn't buy
it. This past week, the father was sentenced to 34 years
in prison.
The following is entirely a work of fiction. It was
written purposely for the entertainment of adult
readers. This type of fiction should never be read by
minors. Readers of this type of fiction should never try
to copy the actions within, lest they look forward to a
very long jail sentence, followed by a life of forced
poverty. This story contains graphic descriptions of sex
between a young teen female and a grown man. If this
type of behavior offends you, read no further. If this
type of material is illegal where you live, please stop
now and go away.
***
The inheritance came at just the right time. After a
harrowing year at work (what we in church call "good for
the pocketbook, bad for the soul" ), I had a healthy
bank account. It was then that a lawyer found me and
told me that I inherited my Cousin's estate.
The estate sits on 4.1 acres. The one story house has a
large circular drive, three car garage, a workshop
(complete with tools and machinery), storage building,
and a shed for landscaping equipment.
Soon after I moved in, I started a part time business
making custom parts for toys. The business soon went
full time. Soon after that, a cop approached me with
some metal working ideas. I was busy and content.
It was right about that time that old man Hosenhaufer
died. Hosenhaufer had an aged house with 1.5 acres on
its eastside. When Hosenhaufer's son took over the
property, he sold it to a business that turned around
and sold it to a local charity. The charity subdivided
it into five pieces and allowed some low income folk to
move their trailers on the lots.
My apprehension subsided when I found out that the
trailers contained working poor whose worst habit was
bringing shopping carts home. I even hired one of the
residents, a mechanic, to do my landscaping. I even
slipped him a few extra bucks to take the shopping carts
back to the store, which kept our cul de sac from
becoming shabby. It was the trailer next to his, which
caught my attention.
From what I could tell, the trailer housed a middle aged
woman and a girl who looked about eleven or twelve.
Being a pedophile has a lot of drawbacks. One of the
drawbacks is looking, and lusting-which is all you can
do, unless you want to go to prison. I imagined several
types of romantic encounters with her, almost to the
point of distraction, but common sense brought me back.
She became pretty much a distant distraction, until I
nearly tripped over her.
I had been washing my car. I had the hose stretched out
and was running it around the car when I heard a squeal.
I hadn't even seen her enter the property. She had
approached me from behind, but my backpedaling led to me
almost running into her. Upon hearing her squeal I
turned and saw her up close-for the first time.
She stood a hair over five feet with a thick head of
coal black hair. Her skin coloring was a very light
mocha coloring. She had a doll's like appearance with
large doe like eyes, a tiny nose, and large "bee stung"
lips. Her frame, like the petite features of her face,
was tiny in many respects. Her chest was nearly flat,
with two tiny bumps where her breasts should be was
wrapped in a skin tight T shirt. Her waist, likewise,
was tiny , wrapped in skin tight jeans.
"Hello?" I said.
"Hello," she replied.
"Can I help you?"
"Mike told me that he does extra work for you. I was
wondering if you had any extra work that I can do ?"
"What can you do?"
"I can clean, wash, iron... you know, stuff."
"Umm...okay. There's a broom in the corner of the
garage. It can use a good sweeping."
She smiled and made straight for the broom. Much to my
surprise, she did a fantastic job, proving that she was
detail oriented. I let her join in on the car, where her
skill level made my car look like it had been detailed.
I gave her a ten, which made her light up. That
evening, hours after she had left, I made up my mind to
let her detail my house. My kitchen needed it's floor
scrubbed and my bathroom was in need of a scrubbing as
well.
It would be two days later when I saw her next. She was
coming out of her trailer. She smiled and waved. I waved
her over. She looked around first, then, walked over. I
told her what I needed done. She told me that she had to
check first. She went home and returned a half hour
later. I let her in and she went to work on my kitchen.
I went into my office and sorted through some emails and
receipts.
A little while later she came in and asked for more
cleaning supplies. I tried to show here where they were
stored, but she made me tell her where they were stored.
She then disappeared and returned nearly an hour later.
Ushering me into the kitchen, she surprised me with a
sparkling room with a very clean smell. I complimented
her. She thanked me, then with a smile, she held out her
hand. I paid her twenty bucks.
"I'll come back tomorrow and clean your bathroom."
She soon became my full time maid and the upside for me
was having company around. With her being over fulltime,
she became comfortable enough to be in various stages of
dress. Once, while cleaning my bathroom, she stripped
down to a tiny skin tight T shirt and panties, that way,
she wouldn't dirty her clothes.
I also began to find out who she was, and her home life.
Her name is Noor, and her parents were from Kurdistan.
Early in her life, her father had left to take up arms
against the Iranians, but he had never returned. Her
mother had moved her around to protect them against a
fear that Iranians in the US would try to kill them. It
was mind boggling to me. The charity that had sold them
the trailer (and land) had sold the package for cheap,
and filed the paperwork under an assumed name.
Soon after school started, I saw a man appear at their
trailer. A few days later, when he shot me a dirty look,
I asked about him. Noor told me that he was her Uncle
and he was giving orders at her house. He had originally
ordered her not to come over, but when she showed him
the money that she was making, he relented.
It was also at this time that Noor started spending more
time over at my place. We started sharing dinner several
nights a week. Prior to dinner, she would sit next to me
on the couch, and a couple of times, she even leaned in
and seemed to be cuddling. Parts of me wanted to hug
her, kiss her, and make love to her, but fear of prison
kept me from stepping over the line.
One day, after school, she came over excited about
Halloween. This year was the first time that she had
gone to a public school and she had never been out to
trick or treat, for fear of being found out by the
Iranians her mother feared. She told me that she wanted
to wear an Alice in Wonderland costume (even though she
wasn't blonde or porcelain skinned) and she feared that
her mother wouldn't buy her the costume. I volunteered
to buy it and the look of joy on her face was all the
thanks I needed. The hug, and peck on my lower lip, that
followed was not only hard to follow up, but very much
appreciated. That night, I went online and ordered her
costume.
Two weeks later, the costume arrived. She tried it on
and modeled it for me. I finally had an excuse to take
pictures of her. Although my inner self wanted to say,
"Okay, now take it off-slowly," I only had her pose in
ways that could pass muster in a Sears magazine. Later,
she took the dress home, but not before giving me
another hug.
The day of Halloween, things took a very ugly turn. Noor
came over in tears. Her Uncle had seen the dress and he
shredded it with scissors while ranting about honor.
Noor held me, tight, and cried tears of shame and rage.
The man part of me wanted to punch the self righteous
asshole right in the face. The pedo part of me made
friends with the civilized part of me and came up with a
plan.
We left my house and after a quick stop at the bank, we
went to an upscale department store. In the dress and
accessory section, I found a harried middle aged
saleswoman trying to tend to a pack of spoiled rotten
older teen girls. When the woman made a few seconds for
us, I discretely pressed a pair of hundreds into her
hand and told her that I would pay all store costs, plus
commission, if she could turn Noor into the most
ravishing Princess ever, in the next couple of hours. I
gave the woman my business card, and left Noor in her
hands.
Two hours later, when I returned to the store, Noor was
breathtaking. She had a light blue sequined gown and
tiara. Makeup had been applied in a subtle way. Noor was
all smiles and I got another hug. The saleswoman
presented me with a bill of over five hundred, but it
was very much worth it.
I then took Noor to the affluent neighborhoods in town.
Because it was a first time experience, she didn't grow
weary of the fact that trick or treating was work. The
compliments she got on her dress made her light up. All
in all, it was a very rewarding night for her.
When we got back to my place, she thanked me again. The
kiss that followed was full on the lips, warm, and
moist. My little friend rose to attention. I broke the
kiss with a smile and almost fatherly squeeze of her
upper arms. I responded to her quizzical look with a
"Let's take some pictures" offer.
I took out the camera had her pose for me. Again, I had
to put down the little monster in me that wanted to tell
her to unzip. After our photo session, she changed
clothes, leaving the dress with me, but taking the candy
with her. The next to last act played out the next
morning.
Every morning, I go out for breakfast. I was in my
garage and getting in my car, when I caught motion out
of the corner of my eye. My turn to the left kept the
baseball bat from caving my skull in, but it still made
contact with my right shoulder. Caught off guard, I was
able to duck and catch Noor's Uncle in the midsection
with my left shoulder. He kneed me in the chest and we
began to wrestle.
After a minute of wrestling, he made the mistake of
throwing me out of the garage. I landed in the driveway,
spun to my left, then I was able to charge him. I pinned
him to the wall of the house, punched him in the solar
plexus, then punched him in the nuts. He grabbed my
ears, but I grabbed him by the waist, lifted him off of
his feet, and slammed him to the ground. He hit the
ground with a plop, and stopped moving. As I caught my
breath, I saw a pool of blood start to spread out from
his head. The thought then hit me that Noor might be in
danger.
I ran across the street. As I neared her front door, I
heard a scream. Adrenaline took over. I nearly ripped
the door off its hinges as I ran in the trailer. I heard
another scream and ran down the hall. Through an open
door, I saw something that made my blood run cold.
Noor was face down and tied to the bed. She was wearing
only panties. Her back and thighs were covered with
welts and blood. Her mother stood over her with a wooden
rod. Her mother turned towards me and raised the rod.
Acting of its own accord, my right hand punched her dead
in the face.
She flew across the room, slammed into the wall, and
fell to the floor. I untied a sobbing Noor, and tried to
be gentle with her. I helped her to her feet, and handed
her a sheet to cover herself. I took her outside and
called 911. In several minutes, Police cars, two
ambulances, and a fire truck crowded my street.
I spent over two hours answering questions. Noor and her
family were taken to the hospital. Later that day, her
Uncle and Mother were arrested and booked on a series of
charges. I went to the hospital and kept vigil for Noor.
A Social Worker came by and asked a series of questions.
Later, she told me that Protective Services would take
custody of Noor, until something could be worked out. I
then went to the Police Department and sought out some
help.
Sergeant Earl Davis had become something between a
friend and brother. He had been among those who had
questioned me this morning. I asked him if he could
intervene with social services. He assured me that he
would, but he asked me to let him handle everything.
Two days later, Davis came over with the social worker
to look at my home. I had dishes in the sink, but aside
from that, my home had that fresh smell that Noor had
left everywhere. The Social Worker then asked me about
being a temporary foster parent. Davis winked and I went
along without becoming emotional. Later that day, Davis
told me that nearly the entire Police Department had
intervened for me. He also told me to be at the hospital
at five in the afternoon. I was also told that Noor's
family had made bail and had fled the state. I hadn't
even noticed their comings and goings, I had been
fortifying my home. Besides an alarm system, I had put
in several cameras, and I bought a dog.
That evening, Noor was released to me. Her face lit up
when she saw me. Our hug was broken by the fact that her
backside was in pain. I gently took her home and settled
her in my guest room. That night though, just after
bedtime, she came in my room, telling me that she was
afraid to be alone. I reluctantly welcomed her to my
bed. Wearing a robe, she sat on the edge of the bed. She
told me how she had learned that her Uncle was on the
loose and she was afraid that he'd try to hurt her
again. I assured her that she was safe with me, and that
I'd take her to and from school to make sure. She then
stood and took off the robe. She was completely naked.
She climbed into my bed. Laying on her side, facing me,
she asked if I loved her.
"Of course I do," I said.
She smiled and placed a hand on my neck. Caressing me
she said:"In my home country, girls as young as nine are
married to older men. I know this country doesn't allow
that, but I can be your wife, in all but name."
"Noor, I love you," I responded, "but if you ever told
anyone that I saw you naked, or touched you, I could go
to prison for a very long time."
"I wouldn't want that."
"Then, we can't share a bed, or kiss, or anything like
that."
"What if I never tell anyone ?"
I looked her in the eye and I realized that she needed
to cling to me. She had lost her family. If I sent her
from my bed, she might go into an unrecoverable spiral.
I leaned in and kissed her. She grabbed me and held me
tight. We made out and she rubbed against me. One of her
hands found my very stiff dick. My underwear seemed to
frustrate her efforts to grab me. I started easing my
jockeys off. She took over and pulled my underwear off.
Placing her hand on my dick, she seemed confused what
to do with it. I pulled her to me and had her lay on top
of me. Placing my dick between her legs, I started to
give her an idea. After wrestling my dick with her
crotch for about ten minutes, I had her mount my mid
section.
She got the idea and tried to insert me in her. She was
quite small, but eventually, the head of my dick went in
her. She was grimacing, but it was all I needed. My
magic spot is right under the head of my dick. Wiggling
her hips for a while, I built to a climax and came in
her.
The entire thing was puzzling to her. I told her that
eventually, I would fit entirely in her. First, though,
I would buy and keep a stock of condoms available. She
nestled into me and fell asleep in my arms. Two nights
later, the final act played out.
***
The barking of my guard dog woke everyone. Noor and I
awoke and looked out the front window. Noor's trailer
was on fire. I thought about calling 911, but I saw
flashing lights and people starting to gather in the
street. I thought about going outside, but then thought
the fire might be a distraction. I looked up Davis's
cell number and I woke him. After telling him my
thought, he agreed and he had half a dozen cops search
my estate. Meanwhile, I checked my DVR.
I have a camera that faces my front gate.
Coincidentally, Noor's trailer and another are in the
frame. A replay of the night showed Noor's Uncle and
Mother torching the trailer. The camera also had a good
shot of the car. A description was put out, and by dawn
they were in custody.
The District Attorney's office did a brilliant job.
Getting Noor's Mother and Uncle to plead guilty to
arson, and accepting twenty years, the other charges
were dropped. By the time they got out of prison, Noor
would be an adult, and best of all, she wouldn't have to
relive the torture by testifying in court.
Noor turned 16 last week. We married in Brazil and
because of extra courses, she'll graduate from high
school in May.
The End
If you like the story, check out my website at:
http://www.asstr.org/~dude/PTandTeen.html
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
anyway shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any of
the scenarios in this story; should seriously consider
seeking professional help.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 70