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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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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2013.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  All rights reserved. Thank you for your 
consideration.
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Four Exercises
by Realoldbill (no address provided)

***

Four shorts, so you can write your own stories. (MF, 
Mf, ped, inc)

***

1

I pulled my throbbing rod out of the limp girl and sat 
back on my heels. Damn, but she was pretty, my little 
cousin, but she had passed out. I tried to remember if 
any girl I had fucked had done that. She had slipped 
into my bed a short time before, early in the morning 
and we had cuddled and kissed, and I had boned her, 
and we humped hard and fast and then she went limp and 
kind of sighed. I hadn't even come in her but she 
might have climaxed. She cried, "Yee," before she 
passed out.

I went to the bathroom, pissed and washed my slimy 
cock and when I came back, hoping for some more fun, 
her sister was sitting there beside her, shaking her.

"What happened?" she asked me without turning around. 
"Did she faint or what?"

"Yeah, she just kind of..."

And she turned around and looked at me and gasped.

Joyce was even prettier than Melissa, a full-grown 
female with a great rack and an incredible ass. She 
was as tall as I am, six feet, and a real pleasure to 
look at.

"Migawd," she gasped. "How big is that thing?"

I smiled and reached down and shook it as it hung, fat 
and long, halfway to my knees, limp but throbbing.

"You didn't put that in her, did you? She's only a 
child."

"She climbed in bed and grabbed it," I said. "She 
wanted it, begged me for it." That wasn't exactly 
true, but it was close.

Joyce grasped my thick root and bounced it in her 
hand, blinking at me. "It must weight five pounds. 
What a monster. You could've killed her."

"I think she enjoyed it, but it could use some more. I 
haven't come; she may have."

She squeezed my rod and looked up at me and shook her 
head. "I don't think so?"


2

"Daddy," she whined as she licked the underside of his 
shriveled cock, "I made a mistake, a big mistake." She 
sucked a dangling ball.

Her father buried his hand in her golden curls and 
managed to say, "Sorry to hear that, Princess. Now do 
the head."

She mouthed his glans until he managed to ooze out a 
few more gobs of semen and then rose to sit on his lap 
and lean against his wide chest, crushing his rampant 
cock to his belly. "You were right. Roger is useless 
and I'm sure Bruce, the guy he roomed with, is his 
lover."

"Wouldn't be surprised," he said as he palmed her lush 
breast and brought her jutting nipple to his lips.

"Can't you help me? I don't want to divorce him. It 
would be so embarrassing."

He nibbled until she squealed and then smiled and 
said, "Of course, but you know what it's going to cost 
you?"

She nodded. "My poor asshole, reamed out by your angry 
giant."

He chuckled. "Right, for a solid month. Which car do 
you want to get rid of?"

She sniffed. 'The Jeep. I never use it."

So that night, on a winding back road, the car her 
husband of two months, the wealthy but effeminate 
Roger Effinton III and his long-time live-in lover 
were in, both unconscious, drove through a guard rail 
and tumbled down a long embankment, turning over 
several times and fell into the river. When the 
wreckage beached itself a mile or so downstream, both 
bodies were still belted in.

Velvet Effington had by then purchased a short, black 
Dior and a clinging Versace that was slit to the hip 
bone and went into mourning after being sodomized by 
her father. The luscious young widow, only nineteen, 
was soon being courted by a legion of eager males 
since she was not only beautiful but very rich. In six 
months she married the handsome son of her financial 
advisor, enjoyed a riotous honeymooon and within six 
weeks he and his father had converted all her assets 
into his control and left the county together along 
with the firm's voluptuous secretary.

Back home and going from her father's big bed to her 
brother's more narrow one, Velvet often cried herself 
to sleep while her vulva pulsed out viscous scum and 
her nipples ached from teeth marks.

She met Horace Miller at the club and in three months 
she wed the owner of six prospering hardware stores 
and pretended to enjoy his eager attempts to arouse 
and satisfy her while she continued to visit her 
family home for sex and every two weeks or so take me 
to her bed. She claimed often that I was her only true 
lover and the only man who could fully satisfy her. 

I certainly enjoyed trying, and she told me stories of 
her marital adventures as we rested between vigorous 
couplings. She had her poor husband coming home for 
lunch, and she demanded service every night as well. 
She wasn't exactly insatiable, but she took a lot of 
loving. Of course she also paid well, a hundred 
dollars each time I cut the lawn.

Horace die violently at the club trying to defend her 
honor after hearing his wife called a slut. The big 
man he pushed knocked him down, and he struck his head 
on a step and died almost instantly. A month later she 
married her family's elderly attorney and two months 
after that he died after taking two ED pills and 
downing a small bottle of energy drink.

So at age 22 she had enjoyed, at least briefly, five 
husbands and was wealthy again.


3

Understand you got a new boy." She arched a perfect 
eyebrow, a practiced gesture.

"Yes, yes indeed," said her friend with a smile. "Got 
rid of the old one; traded him in. Have no idea what 
they do with the used ones, the mines I suppose."

"Prostitution I think. How is he? After all, they do 
have what it takes." She laughed.

"He's learning, improving, getting used to us. The 
girls, you know, can be demanding."

"As can you, my dear. Have him altered?"

"Just a bit; Achilles cut, muted, and one other. I'll 
have to look on the manifest."

"What is he?"

"English-Irish they say, sandy-haired, lanky, well-
endowed."

"Well, of course, they breed them for that. Like to 
see him."

Her friend smiled and picked up a small remote. The 
boy appeared in seconds and went to his knee, eyes 
cast down. He was wearing a loincloth and a studded 
collar.

"I like the collar," said her friend.

"Yes, all the sensors are imbedded."

"Of course. Could I see an erection, just for 
comparison? My jadper is so well hung you know and 
wonderfully thick."

"Oh course." She gestured and the boy stood, hands 
behind him, looking over their heads, impassive. She 
handed her friend the remote. "Go ahead."

The young male shuddered and his cloth flap fluttered 
and then parted and his sturdy young penis, swelling 
and rising, the veins pulsing, rose and thickened 
quickly until it was curved upward and trembling.

"Very nice," said her friend, handing back the device.


4

Tammy smiled down at me as she pressed another 
pushpin, a red one, into my hard penis and stood back 
to look at her work. She aimed her little camera and 
took another shot. My cock was now spiraled with 
multi-colored, needle-sharp pushpins, perhaps twenty 
of them, from its ridged head to my hairy groin, and 
the lovely young girl who was torturing me obviously 
wasn't finished.

One big alligator clip went on the underside of my 
swollen scrotum and the other she held up smiling and 
said, "Let's see," and then she clamped it on my right 
nipple. I squealed.

"Now, now," she cooed, "here it comes." And she gave 
me a short burst of electricity which made my whole 
body arch.

I heard the door open and her mother came in. "How's 
it going?" she asked, coming to the bed and grasping 
my balls, squeezing firmly and watching my cock jerk 
upwards.

"I think he's about ready." Linda flicked on an 
overhead light and positioned two TV cameras, one low 
and the other right over my groin.

"Mind if I watch?" her mother asked, digging her 
fingernails into my balls and twisting while she 
smiled at me.

"No, of course not, but step back. Don't cast a 
shadow." She flicked the cameras on and began giving 
me two-second shocks over and over. My erection rose 
in steady increments until it was standing rigid and 
tall and then she increased the duration and strength 
of the jolts, and I ejaculated, spurting my semen 
straight up a foot or so. It hurt like hell.

The girl turned off everything, removed the clips and 
then pulled out the pins and rubbed alcohol on my limp 
prick. "Thanks," she said with a smile. "You can go."

I stumbled away and went down to the kitchen and got a 
glass of water, still sweating and aching. I had 
earned a hundred dollars but it was awfully hard work.

***

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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 76