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Making Babies 56: Ingrid Pitt 
by Geminiguy (iamgeminiguy@yahoo.com)

***

As tThe Headmaster every September I try to take a few 
minutes to meet the new students. Then he met her, and 
decided he'd need to start seeing her every day before 
school. (Mf, ped, 1st, mast, oral, celeb-parody)

***

Author's Note: A Horror legend, Hammer Films billed her 
as "The most beautiful ghoul in the world. The British 
press called her The Queen Of Scream. Other quotes 
regarding Ingrid Pitt were "Best known as Hammer Films' 
most seductive female vampire of the early 1970s", 
"Lovely and voluptuous", "Easily one of the HOTTEST 
women on the screen EVER".

Ingrid Pitt was born in Warsaw, Poland on November 21, 
1937. No one is sure of her actual birth name, but it 
was believed to be Ingoushka Petrov.

Her father was German, her mother Polish/Jewish. In 1942 
the Nazis came for her family, separating Ingrid and her 
mother from her father and older sister. She stayed in a 
concentration camp for three years.

After the war, Ingrid and her mother trudged from camp 
to camp, searching for her father and sister. They found 
them, but the war had broken her father. He died five 
years later.

Ingrid herself lived to be seventy-three years old. She 
died in South London, England on November 23, 2010. Her 
daughter said it was apparent heart failure.

She had remained active, acting and appearing at Horror 
conventions, still youthful-looking. I wish I had the 
chance to have met her. This is a small tribute to 
Ingrid Pitt.

This is one of my tougher stories, since I have less 
than usual background to go on. My understanding is she 
was in Eastern Germany when WWII ended, and during the 
1950s she acted on stage in East Berlin. So I have to 
believe she was in East Berlin at the time this story 
will take place.

I'm assuming she had gone to school, and not knowing how 
schools were run back then never mind in Eastern 
Germany, I'm going out on a limb here with the details. 
Rest In Peace, Ingoushka Petrov... G

***

[East Berlin, East Germany - Fall 1951]

Good day. I am the Headmaster of a school in East 
Berlin. We teach Grades 9th-12th.

It is the beginning of a new school year. As is my 
custom, I like to get to know my new students starting 
in the 9th Grade. I try to give each about ten, maybe 
fifteen minutes of my time, so I am able to see between 
twenty-eight and forty-two students each day.

The 9th Grade class isn't too large, about three hundred 
students, so it only takes about two weeks.

I want to get to know each student, and let them get to 
know me as well. I want them to know I'm always 
available any time they need someone to talk to about 
anything. And after all my decades of experience - I'm 
in my early fifties now but look and feel younger - I 
have heard it all.

We had finally reached the Ps, and I was next to talk to 
a young woman who was born in Poland.

She had had a tough existence since the age of five, 
thanks to those bastard Nazis. That included the death 
of her German father this past year, a result of what 
the Nazi war did to him, possibly a greater tragedy for 
the young woman than everything else that happened.

I do have a degree in Psychology, and I find I truly 
feel for the plight of my fellow humans, especially the 
young who have faced such great tragedies.

I want to help them, but I have found the best help is 
to let them talk. They need someone to listen to them.

My phone rang.

"Hello?"

"The next student is here to see you, Sir," My secretary 
informed.

"Thank you. Send her in."

Moments later the door to my cramped office opened, 
letting in the loud noises from the larger outer office 
in, as well as the younger woman.

Then the door was closed again, returning the quiet, and 
leaving me with the young woman.

It is my endeavor to refer to all of my students as 
young men and young women.

But the fact does not escape - especially in connection 
to the 9th Grade students - that they are still in many 
ways children.

The young woman in front of me straddled both worlds. 
She was of average height for a 9th Grade student. And 
she had a young face, a face full of hidden emotion and 
turmoil, a face much younger than her age, as is the 
case with many 9th Grade students.

But one difference regarding her that made her stand out 
among her classmates was her body. It was the developed 
body of a young woman. The uniform the school provides 
for the 9th Grade students was ill-fitted for her. The 
skirt looked shorter because the roundness of her mature 
buttocks thrust it out more, as well as her developing 
hips. I had to admit her thighs were very attractive, 
coltish in appearance.

It was worse with her blouse. Her abundant chest 
stretched the shirt, causing the spaces between the 
buttons to gape. She was not even able to button her 
vest.

She was indeed a beautiful young woman, her long, dark 
blonde hair and green eyes completing her appearance.

Another thing that made her stand out from the other 9th 
Grade students, was she was only thirteen, while all the 
other students were already fourteen before the school 
year started, some soon to be fifteen. She would not be 
fourteen until the end of November. Which made her look 
even older than her age.

"Good morning!" I smiled. "How are you enjoying our 
school so far?" I asked.

"Fine," She said shyly in her strong, alluring Eastern 
European accent.

"Wonderful, wonderful! Please, have a seat."

"Thank you," She said. As she sat her skirt rose more, 
and I could see more of her slim thighs...

I felt my manhood growing, I quickly sat back down to 
hide my embarrassment from the student, pulling my chair 
in under my desk.

"So, your file says your birth name is..." It was a long 
name, hard to pronounce, and I did not want to 
disrespect my young student.

She smiled.

"I go by the name Ingrid now."

I smiled back.

"Then I shall call you Ingrid from now on," I said, 
making a notation in her file. Then I closed it, letting 
my hands drop behind my desk.

"Ingrid, I want you to feel comfortable here our school. 
If there is anything you need let me know. I want you to 
be comfortable with me as well. I want you to feel free 
to come talk to me any time, during school, before 
school, after school. It does not matter. I want you to 
feel comfortable telling me anything you wish to 
discuss. And I do not want you tell me anything you do 
not wish to discuss."

Ingrid's smile widened, and she seemed to physically be 
at ease more.

"Thank you, Sir."

"Now, feel free to tell me about yourself, anything and 
all that you wish to."

I couldn't help myself. I was rubbing my now hard 
manhood through my trousers and underwear. It throbbed 
and ached.

I did my best to keep a straight face, not wanting to 
frighten Ingrid by my actions.

She began to speak. And a torrent of words came out. She 
opened her soul to me.

And believed me, I WAS listening to her every word. 
That's what I'd been trained to do in College, even when 
I was seemingly distracted by my inappropriate behavior.

She was not only vocal, Ingrid used body language as 
well. Her hands and arms moved as she spoke, and her 
body shifted often in the hard wooden seat, as mine was.

Her skirt shifted, and I could now see the crotch of her 
white underwear. The cotton was worn, and I could see 
her darker pubic hair through it.

I again could not resist. I eased down the zipper of my 
trousers, reached into my underwear and worked my aching 
manhood out into the open.

Wrapping my hand around it, I began to stroke it 
somewhat rapidly.

Fortunately Ingrid went on and on. And I let her 
continue to speak long after the maximum fifteen minutes 
I allotted for each student. I need to reach climax.

I tried to look her in the eyes and smile. When she'd 
look away as she talked my eyes would go to her large, 
straining breasts, or her hairy maidenhood hidden behind 
a shield of white.

Finally I reached my climax. I did my best to keep a 
straight face as my seed flew free of my manhood, 
splattering on the underside of my desk. Fortunately, it 
was a completely enclosed desk, so as my semen dripped 
back down it went unseen from all sides.

After shooting out my semen thirteen or fourteen times, 
my manhood began to soften. I slipped it back into my 
underwear and zipped up.

I allowed Ingrid to continue to talk, until she looked 
at the clock on the wall.

"Oh, my, I have taken up so much of your time! I 
apologize, Sir!" Ingrid said as she rose, hiding the 
worn underwear from my sight once more.

"Nonsense!" I smiled. "You have much to say, and I aim 
to allow you to get it all off your chest."

Ingrid smiled warmly.

"I thank you, Sir. I do find it so easy to talk to you, 
and it does make me feel better."

"I will give you a special pass," I said, opening my 
side drawer and removing one of my specially made 
passes, and I handed it to her.

"This will allow you to enter the school earlier, and I 
always am here an hour earlier. I would be happy to see 
you then if you wish."

"Thank you, Sir! I was treasure this greatly," Referring 
to the card I gave her. "I should return to my class 
now, thank you again."

"You are welcome, Ingrid," I said, rising to open the 
door for her. "And please let my secretary know I'm 
ready for the next student.

She nodded and left.

I closed the door, looking forward to our next visit.

I always had the office to myself that early in the 
morning. My secretary didn't arrive until five minutes 
before school was to begin.

And as I hoped, Ingrid did come early, and I ushered her 
into my office, closing the door.

"How are you this morning, Ingrid?" I asked cheerfully.

"Very fine, Sir. Thank you for asking. And you?"

"Very good, thank you. I was looking forward to seeing 
you again," I said.

Ingrid's cheeks pinked up at my words.

"Please, have a seat."

"Thank you, Sir."

She sat down, and like the day before Ingrid's skirt 
slipped upward.

I tried not to stare, as I went back behind my desk and 
sat down, pulling my chair under my desk once more.

Ingrid giggled.

"What's funny?" I smiled.

"I noticed you staring at my legs," She said. 
"Yesterday, and just now."

My face grew hot.

"I apologize for my rude behavior, I -"

"No, I appreciate you looking at me like that. You are a 
very handsome man..."

I felt my face grow hotter.

"Yes, but -" I was about to say "old enough to be your 
father" but caught myself. "I am not a young man."

"So?" Ingrid smiled, crossing her legs. "I don't care 
about age."

I was about to say I was much older than I looked, but 
decided it would do no good.

"If your mother knew you were talking this way to a man 
my age, what would she do?" I asked.

Ingrid shrugged.

"Probably spank my bottom," She giggled.

"Then, how about instead of me telling your mother, I 
will do the spanking, and we will leave your mother out 
of this?"

Her eyes twinkled.

"If you wish, Sir."

Uncrossing her legs, Ingrid rose, and bent over my desk, 
placing her palms flat on it.

"I'm ready for my punishment, Sir..."

I rose, not caring that she'd see my manhood tenting my 
trousers, which she did, eyes widening, as did her 
smile.

Moving up behind Ingrid, I flipped up her skirt. Her 
large round buttocks pressed out against the faded 
underwear.

I eased these down, exposing her firm buttocks. But I 
could also she her maidenhood between her thighs, the 
dark curls glistening from her arousal.

I raised my palm up, then brought it down hard.

"Oh!" Ingrid gasped.

The next smack was hard. She tried to stifle her cries, 
moaning.

Harder and harder I smacked her buttocks, 
five...ten...twenty...forty...fifty times.

Her lower body was unable to stay still as I drew closer 
to fifty smacks. And she had a hard time stifling her 
cries. Her maidenhood glistened more greatly with her 
leaked juices.

And finally her maidenhood spasmed with the finally 
smack as Ingrid cried out "OH, PAPA!!!!"

I lost it.

Dropping to my knees, I buried my face between her 
thighs, placing my mouth on her dripping maidenhood.

"Oh, poppy, oh, poppy..." Ingrid moaned.

I couldn't help thinking as I did this illicit thing to 
the thirteen year old, that she was five when the Nazis 
took her father away from her. She was eight when she 
got him back, but as a broken man who died a year ago. 
So her father could not have done such illicit thing to 
his daughter.

Ingrid was seeing me as her father. Her papa. And it 
clouded my reasoning further as I lapped up at the 
juices from her maidenhood, faster and faster as she 
began to spasm again.

"OH. PAPA!!!" Young Ingrid squealed.

As her body climaxed again, more juices flooded from her 
maidenhood, and I did my best to lap it all up, getting 
much on my face.

Finally she cried "Oh, papa, thank you!" as she spun 
around. Kneeling in front of me, she kissed me, all over 
my face, even my lips. Ingrid started licking her juices 
off of my face.

Then she said "Let me help you, papa!"

Ingrid helped me to my feet, which is what I thought 
she'd meant. But then she knelt before me again, 
unzipping my trousers and reaching inside. She grasped 
my hard manhood inside my underwear and worked them out. 
It throbbed and pulsed before Ingrid's curious, eager 
face.

Then she opened her mouth and lowered it around my 
manhood. Lower and lower she went, until I felt the head 
of my manhood hit the back of her throat.

Ingrid moaned.

Then she started to move her mouth up and down on that 
part of my manhood, her lips locked tightly around my 
length.

Faster and faster she sucked me, making me groan loudly. 
Her tongue raked up and down the underside of my 
manhood, making me feel faint.

It felt so good...so unexpected. I hardly lasted ten 
minutes. I grunted, and my seed started to spurt into 
young Ingrid's mouth.

Her eyes widened. She moaned again. And she started 
swallowing my semen!

I groaned, as rope after rope of my seed shot out of me 
and down her throat as she drank it down rapidly, still 
sucking on my manhood.

I spurted fifteen or sixteen times, before my manhood 
began to soften, slipping from her mouth.

And at the same the time guilt set in as to what I'd 
just done, and allowed to be done. I'd had taken 
advantage of this child!

And I realized something else. Between spanking Ingrid, 
licking her maidenhood, and her sucking my manhood, much 
time had passed! I looked at the clock on the wall.

"My secretary will be here in a few minutes!" I hissed, 
tucking my manhood back in and zipping up.

Ingrid rose to her feet and pulled up her underwear, 
smiling.

"Thank you, papa!" She said, then hugged me tight.

She turned and left my office, closing the door behind 
her.

Guilt-ridden, I returned to my chair behind my desk, 
putting my hands over my face in shame.

People have always asked me why I never found a wife, 
and married. I always told them it was because of my 
students. They needed my help all the time, they were 
like my children.

If they only knew what I'd just done with one of my 
"children"...

Guilt plagued me all day. But so did thoughts of Ingrid. 
I realized I wanted her more.

My work kept me busy, though, and talking to other 9th 
Grade students helped keep my mind off my guilt and 
longing somewhat.

But after school it was worse. I was shocked to find the 
guilt lessening and the longing growing! And I had 
nothing to distract myself from such thoughts...

The next morning I hoped Ingrid would not come to see 
me. When I opened my office door, though, there she was 
waiting for me!

"Papa!" She cried out as I quickly closed the door 
behind me, though there was no one in the outer office.

Ingrid through herself into my arms. I couldn't help 
embracing her myself.

"Oh, papa, I'm so happy to see you!" She smiled. "I've 
thought about you all the time since yesterday 
morning..."

I pulled away from her.

"What happened should not have," I said. "It was wrong, 
and I'm sorry I took advantage of you..."

"But papa!" Ingrid cried out. "I'm not sorry about what 
happened. I wanted it to happen.

Ever since I caught you looking up my skirt. Boys don't 
look at me like that. They don't look at me at all. But 
I don't want a boy, papa. I want you. I love you, papa! 
And I need you..."

I was suddenly torn. I heard the pain in her voice, and 
it really hit me what she'd gone through these past 
eight years. She really did need me, and want me, and 
forgive me, I wanted her too..."

"Oh, Ingrid," I said softly. "I love you too..."

"Oh, papa!" She cried again. "Please, papa, make me a 
woman!"

My eyes widened.

"If that's what you really want..."

"Oh, I do! More than anything!"

"All right then," I said, beginning to undress.

Ingrid smiled and quickly got undressed herself, both of 
us soon naked.

I cleared off my desk as Ingrid rubbed her maidenhood, 
moaning.

"I'm so wet for you, papa..." She sighed.

I didn't have to tell her the obvious, that I was hard 
for her. It was obvious as her hard, stiff brown 
nipples.

I pulled Ingrid to my desk and lay her womanly body on 
it. She spread her legs and held her arms out to me.

"Take me, papa..."

I mounted her. Ingrid wrapped her arms around me tight. 
I started rubbing my manhood along her maidenhood, 
getting it wet with her juices. Ingrid moaned softly.

Then I grabbed my manhood and pushed the head inside of 
her. She immediately wrapped her legs around my waist.

I slowly pushed forward until the head of my manhood 
pressed against her virginity.

Then I pulled back, and thrust myself through, making 
the girl a real woman.

Ingrid's body tensed up and she threw back her head and 
screamed in pain as she held me tighter.

I knew to not stop. I rammed my manhood in and out of 
Ingrid's womanhood fast and hard. And soon her body 
relaxed.

And she started to moan, eyes closing.

"Oh, papa..."

As I had sex with her faster and faster, her moans grew 
louder as her young body writhed and convulsed. It 
wasn't long before her womanhood was spasming and Ingrid 
was screaming in orgasm.

I couldn't slow down. I had a need, a desire, to climax. 
But I would make her climax first many times.
	
Ingrid clung to me as I pounded into her harder and 
harder, making her climax over and over, more intensely 
each time.

Like yesterday, I only lasted about ten minutes, but 
Ingrid first came six times before I cried out and shot 
my seed deep into her young womb.

I kept pumping into Ingrid, over and over as I spurt 
rope after rope of semen into her, fifteen or sixteen 
times this time.

I was breathing heavy as my manhood ceased spurting, as 
was Ingrid. Both of us were sweaty and I'm sure she was 
as exhausted as I was.

But miraculously my manhood was still hard inside of 
her, inside of my "daughter".

"Oh, papa," She whimpered, smiling. "Thank you for 
making me a woman..."

"You are welcome, my child," I smiled back. I looked up 
at the clock on the wall, knowing we had much time, then 
back at Ingrid. "Want to do it again?"

Without hesitation, she nodded vigorously, just as I 
expected.

"Good daughter."

THE END

For more stories by this author: 
http://kristensboard.com/forums/index.php?board=77.0

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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 - Celebrity Parod Archive