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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!
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--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2012.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  All rights reserved. Thank you for your 
consideration.
--------------------------------------------------------

Scotty
by Realoldbill (address withheld)

***

A young girl finds herself alone and in need of help. 
(M+/f, ped, nc, no-sex)

***

When Scotty Stevens got home from school that bright 
spring day she found sheriff's deputies in the 
driveway. They demanded her keys and her registration 
and insurance cards. The house was sealed with red 'do 
not enter' tapes on all the doors. She was questioned 
for an hour and then told to leave the property, that 
it was a crime scene. She called the family lawyer on 
her cell phone and found out that her father had 
killed himself in his office and that he did not know 
where her mother was.

"Killed himself!" the girl screamed.

"He had been running a Ponzi for the last three or 
four years."

"I don't understand."

"Come to the office soon as you can. By the way, your 
ATM card will not work. Do you have some money?"

"A few dollars."

"Take a cab. We'll pay for it."

She called for a cab and rode into town, stunned by 
the news and wondering where her mother was.

She sat in the family's lawyer's office, a man for 
whom she had babysat, and he handed her a printed e-
mail. It was from her father who said he was sorry and 
that he had wired her some money.
The lawyer handed her a fat envelope. "It's about a 
thousand dollars, all he had left in his account."

"But he was rich; we were rich," she said, puzzled and 
saddened.

"He paid out almost all he had to a few clients, a 
favored few, and then shot himself. You have any 
relatives, aunts and uncles, brothers or sisters?"

She shook her head.

"It will be on the news tonight, in the papers 
tomorrow. He defrauded hundreds of people, many of 
them his friends. I lost almost a hundred thousand."

"What am I going to do? I don't even have a home, a 
bed to sleep in."

The lawyer leaned back in his chair and stroked his 
chin. "We have a spare room. You can stay with us for 
a while if you want to."

She sniffed and nodded.

"Are you a virgin?" he asked.

She blinked at him and shook her head. "What?"

"Are you sexually active, do you slut around? You know 
what I mean."

"No, never. How can you ask such a thing?"

"You're very pretty you know. Pretty girls can always 
find ways to make money, to survive."

"You want me to sell my body, to be a whore?"

He smiled. "You get the idea. We have a room; you have 
a pussy."

"Aren't you married?"

"Not right now, and I've got two sons at home, boys 
that would really enjoy having you for a live-in 
girlfriend. They'd keep you occupied I'm sure."

She ran from the room clutching her envelope of money.

Out on the street as the sun was setting, she hailed a 
cab and looked up an address with her phone. In ten 
minutes she was at the construction office of a new 
suburban mall. She went in and smiled at the man 
behind the desk. "Mr. Simmons," she asked, "have you 
heard the news?"

"Hi, Scotty," he said, "find a chair. What brings you, 
I was just about to head home?" He adjusted his Levis 
to give his cock some more room since the girl was 
always exciting to look at, forbidden fruit his mind 
told him, jail bait.

"Daddy's dead and Momma's run off somewhere."

"Dead?"

"Killed himself they say." She told him what she had 
heard.

"I should have guessed. He urged me to invest. I never 
had enough to get involved. Ten thou was the minimum 
you know." He licked his lips and felt his cock 
swelling, trembling.

"Daddy trusted you, said you were a good man. Do you 
have a place I can stay until I figure things out. I 
can't go back to school, not for a while."

"Sure. How old are you?"

"Sixteen. I've got my driver's license."

"OK. That's good. If you stay at my house it's going 
to be in my bed." He smiled and licked his lips. "I'm 
sort'a between lady friends. I'm glad you're legal."

She almost threw up and ran from the trailer. Out on 
the highway she called her best friend at school and 
asked her to come pick her up. The girl said she 
didn't have a license but that her brother would be 
there in a few minutes and described his car. 

Soon a fancy German coupe pulled to the side of the 
road and the door opened. She got in and buckled up 
and said thanks. He offered his hand and said his name 
was Bruce. They smiled at each other.
"Hope you put out; last bitch she invited over clawed 
and squealed when I fucked her."

When they hit a red light, she quickly got out and ran 
down the street.

That's when she called me and I learned all that 
happened to her after the first time we copulated and 
were resting, hoping to fuck again.

"Billy," she had sobbed, "this is Scotty Stevens, 
remember me?"

"Sure," I said, searching my memory and finding a 
stuck-up beauty.

'I need help. Can you come pick me up?" 

She gave me the address and I was there in ten 
minutes. She jumped in, said thanks and buckled up. I 
asked what was going on.

"My Daddy shot himself, he was doing something illegal 
and got caught, and my mother's disappeared and our 
house is all sealed up."

I digested that.

"Have you got a spare bed, maybe in the basement or 
something?"

"Sure," I said, "my sister's in boarding school. She 
went kind of crazy in middle school, so, well." I 
didn't want to say that Suzy was the school slut for a 
few months. It was partly my fault anyhow.

"Great. I really appreciate it." She slumped back in 
the seat and sighed. Damn but she was pretty.

"How come you called me?"

"Next name on my phone list. I haven't forgotten you, 
honest, from ninth grade I mean. You really had some 
reputation you know?"

At 13 I was sexually active, and I probably had one of 
the biggest cocks in the whole school, certainly the 
busiest since I was cutting lawns and bonking grass 
widows right and left. It was seven inches then and 
its almost nine now, maybe more when it's ready to 
blow. I think I've stopped growing after the last 
spurt that left me with size 11 shoes.

So I took her home and microwaved her some food and 
sat with her while she ate and she told me about the 
men propositioning her.
I tried not to smile. "I assume you know that you are 
very pretty and your tight shirts and short skirts 
are, well, let's say exciting."

She looked down at herself and blinked at me. "It's 
the fashion, the style. Everybody's wearing soft polos 
and tight tees and micro minis.

'Not everybody's built like you."

"You too?"

"Sure," I said. "I'm normal and I'm a male."

"But it isn't fair. I mean, it's not my fault."

"True, but you are very pretty and there's just about 
no cure for that. So if men and boys come on to you, 
you should be used to it, know how to fend them off, 
or, even better as far as I'm concerned, know when and 
how to give in and enjoy yourself."

"Are you crazy?"

I shook my head. "No. But I'd like to kiss you." And I 
hugged her and pulled her to me and we kissed, kissed 
each other, and I hugged her and then picked her up, 
ignored her pleas and hurried up the stairs and into 
the back room and put her on the bed and quickly 
started undressing.

"Stop, no, stop, I don't want to." She squealed and 
swung her legs off the bed and sat there pushing back 
her hair and looking angry and scared.

"OK," I said and I smiled and left.

I was down in the den watching a game on TV when she 
came down, barefoot, and sat beside me. "I'm lonely 
and scared," she sniffed.

I put my arm around her shoulders and let her rest her 
curly head on me. After a while, she said, "You 
interested in this?" She put her hand on my thigh.

'Not really, we're six runs down."

She wiggled around and kissed me, kissed me hard.

I kissed her back and ran my hand up inside her shirt 
and we kissed some more and I pulled her shirt over 
her head and unsnapped her little bra.

She looked up at me and blinked. "I've never done it," 
she whispered as she stood so I could strip down her 
short shirt and tiny thong. Her bulging groin was 
smooth and hairless. She knelt, smiled at me and said, 
"But I've done this."

END

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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is 
meant as an erotic fantasy not depicting anything in 
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 system.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 73