Message-ID: <34551asstr$1010398202@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: karigold_sky@hotmail.com (Kari Gold) Reply-To: karigold_sky@hotmail.com X-Original-Message-ID: <3c38a57a.24844887@news.nj.sbcglobal.net> NNTP-Posting-Date: Sun, 06 Jan 2002 13:20:46 CST X-UserInfo1: Q[R_@SRD^ZUGSVDXNKK^_T\B\JYL@DHLLBWLOOAFMAVNDQUBLNTC@AWZWDXZXQ[K\FFSKCVM@F_N_DOBWVWG__LG@VVOIPLIGX\\BU_B@\P\PFX\B[APHTWAHDCKJF^NHD[YJAZMCY_CWG[SX\Y]^KC\HSZRWSWKGAY_PC[BQ[BXAS\F\\@DMTLFZFUE@\VL X-ASSTR-Arrival-Date: Sun, 06 Jan 2002 19:20:46 GMT Subject: {ASSM} My Life ... Starring - Me Ep. 2 (hardcore gangbang, maybe a little nc depending on your POV) Date: Mon, 7 Jan 2002 05:10:02 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, dennyw {ASSM} My Life ... Starring - Me Ep. 2 (hardcore gangbang, maybe a little nc depending on your POV) This is Episode 2 in a cyber-novel based on fantasies I've had since my early teens. This is ALL fiction. I am not - nor have I EVER been - abused or molested by my parents or any other adult, and I am certainly NOT involved in kiddie porn in any way, shape or form. I just want to get that straight from the beginning, okay. For those interested, I am a 19 year-old college sophomore majoring in journalism. I will answer all e-mails sent to me, but this is just my hobby, okay. So please don't ask me for pics or sex-chat or anything. Okay, here's the second part of my novel. I'd like to know what anyone thinks. Oh yeah, before I forget -- This story is my property ... not that anyone would want to steal it, but, hey, who knows what kind of weirdos are out there. Oh yeah, adults only, too (yeah, right!) ------------------- My Life ... Starring - Me (Episode 2) by Kari Gold It's a funny thing about crying. It really does make you feel better. I think because it just tires you out and numbs you after awhile. When you pick your head up off the pillow, everything is just kind of swirly and surreal. You're in a daze. I wonder if this is how you feel after you've been drunk. You know what's fucking hilarious? I have never been drunk before! My parents disapprove of drinking. Can you BELIEVE THAT? They let their thirteen-year-old daughter do sex orgies for thousands of people over the internet. Yet I ask for a glass of wine on Xmas, and they give me "the evils of alcohol" speech. Same with drugs .. EVEN POT! "Not our daughter!" They actually even grounded me when they found out Amber and Darcy had tried pot. AND I WASN'T EVEN THERE! PARENTS!! Grrrrrrrr! I bet a joint or a shot of vodka would be soooo good right now. Everything is just so fuzzy, and I have these little crusties in my eyes. My bones are all out of joint, too, like I don't quite fit inside my skin. God, I hate being thirteen. I just know when I look in the mirror, there's going to be the Swiss Alps of acne all over my face again. That's why I'm NOT going to look in the mirror. That's why I'm going to sit down at my computer and read my email. I log onto my site and access the email server. YOU HAVE 329 NEW MESSAGES. I click on my reply-bot and find all the "first-time" addresses. These are people who've never written before and aren't in my address book. I send them all my standard reply: heya! thanx for the email, (fill in name). glad you liked the show. i was really horny. could you tell? i just love thinking about you and all those people watching. what was your favorite part? my ass just can't get enough cock. i hope the next guy is even bigger, you know ..? i know you have like a million questions, and so do i. but i've gotta finish my homework right now so i don't get another detention tomorrow. write back PLEASE! toodles kari After the reply-bot clears all the "first-timers," that only leaves 73 new messages. I click on my e-manager and search for my "favs." These are the people I always LOVE to hear from and respond to WRITE AWAY. grbqb@packers.com - hey, are you online? - Today 6:45 PM EST I look down at the digital clock on my monitor. 6:56 PM. Maybe I can still catch him. I log onto Courtney's Chat Room, but I cloak myself. This way I can see them, but they can't see me. There are about 180 people on, spread out in about 14 different rooms. GBQB is in the main room with a BUNCH of people. They're all talking about this morning's live webcast with me and TJ. Hot1-4u: I'd love to see how she'd eat my pussy. Juytr34: people all over the world, yeah Wordy: they really need more mpegs. Nothing new in weeks Nedferg: Friday night should be GREAT! Tilton: I'd love to see that, too! Mrfunny: I wish you could download the stuff. GBQB: Lucky kid doesn't know what he's in for CourtneyHere: (private message to GBQB): heya, it's me! I'm opening a private room. Here's the link. CourtneysPrivatePad. I open a private chat room and close off the access so it's just us. GBQB signs off the main room, and in a second he's inside my room. Me: Got ur e, wassup? GBQB: watcha doing tonight? Me: Nothing. It's a skool nite, duh?! GBQB: I was hopin you could do me a favor. Me: ?? GBQB: I'm having a party for my OL. Me: OL? GBQB: Offensive Line. Me: Oh ??? GBQB: We made the playoffs last week. No sacks. Now we have a bi week. Me: ur going bi?? Can I watch??? GBQB: lol. No, you know. An off week. I'm throwing them a party to celebrate. It'd mean a lot to me if you came. Me: no way my mom n dad r gonna let me. btw ur in green bay. I'm here. Party's 2nite? Sorry lol plan ahead next time. GBQB: I got my friend's plane at your airport. He'll be there til 8:30. party starts at 11PM. Flight's an hour. You can make it. I'll get you home by school tomorrow. promise. Me: $$$$?? GBQB: c'mon you know I'll take care of you. Me: $$$$$$$$$$$$$?????????????? GBQB: how's $10G Me: 4 Chelz that'd work. I'm Courtney, remember?? GBQB: $20G? Me: have fun w/Chelz. Tell her I said high! GBQB: $30G? Me: n $10G for my chaperone, ok! GBQB: $40G??? Me: that's up 2 u. in 5 secs I'm logging off. GBQB: OK! the plane's at Samson AP. Me: what runway? GBQB: Call my friend on his cell (555)555-5678 Me: got it. 1 more thing. GBQB: what? Me: limo from the AP to ur place when we get there. 1st class. GBQB: OK Me: and back to the AP tomorrow morning, home here by 7AM GBQB: OK Me: c'ya! (Log off) "DAD!!!!!" -------- "I still don't know if this is such a good idea, Cat," my dad says. We're reclining back in our seats on the plane. It's an older Lear jet. I've flown in better .. LOTS better. "You know what I mean .. with everything still up in the air with Friday .." "Forget about Friday, dad!" HELL KNOWS I'm trying to. "It's only Wednesday. I have 2 days, okay ..? I'll figure something about. Right now, though, we're going to make $40 grand straight up. That's no overhead, no cut for Reza. No nothing. Just cash." "And you're sure he's good for it?" Dad asks even though he already knows the answer. "He's the starting quarterback for the Green Bay Packers, dad! He has like two Super Bowl rings and he makes MILLIONS of dollars a year. $40 grand is like nothing to him." "Maybe you should have held out for more ..?" "He's rich, he's NOT stupid. He could get Chelsea. She'd've done it for $10 grand. But he wants ME, so I gave him a fair price. I do know what I'm doing, you know." "I know." Dad shakes his head. "That's what scares me so much sometimes. You know EXACTLY what you're doing." "Which is why you shouldn't worry about Friday, okay ..? I'll solve it." "Any ideas?" "Right now, the only ideas I'm having are about doing a gangbang party tonight for five huge football players." "Are you sure it's only 5?" Dad asks. "He said the offensive line, dad. That's the center, two guards and two tackles. Even I know that!" "Did he say it was only the first string? What about the tight-end? He's considered a lineman and a receiver, especially in the Packers offensive package. There could like 10 or 12 guys there, honey. Did you even think of that?" SHIT! "I'm going to call him," I reach for my cell and start looking up GBQB's phone number in my list. "The plane's already taken off," my dad touches my arm and lowers the phone from my ear. "And you already committed to this. It's too late to call him now. You have a reputation to consider here. Men like him are what MAKE US. One bad word from him could really hurt us." "But .." "Honey, you made your bed. Now you're going to have lie in it." GRRRRRRR! I hate when he goes all Bob Saget on me. "So, you're Courtney?" It's GBQB's friend, the guy who owns the plane. He's got some guy flying it now, and he steps through the cockpit door. He's like in his late thirties, fake suntan and wearing a Packers starter jacket and tan corduroys. He also has some kind of skin condition or something on his cheek. It's red and blotchy, and you can't help but stare at it. "Yes, this is Courtney," my dad answers for me. He hates when he's not in control of these kinds of situations. When we're on the website, he'll let strange guys do and say all sorts of things to me. But that's because he's in charge, and they're on his home turf. Dad really doesn't like it when I do these off-site shows. Even though the money ROCKS and there's nothing to split with anyone else, he'd still rather make less and be able to call all the shots. "Hi, Courtney!" the guy comes over and stands right above me. His crotch is right there, level with my face. Even though his dick looks pretty small, I can still see that it's hard. "I'm Gary. I'm a friend of .." "I know," I cut him off. "He told me. This is your plane, right .?" "Yep," he answers. He rubs his dick through his pants. He is smiling down at me. I WON'T look him in the eye. I'm not getting $40 grand to screw with this loser. "Do you like it?" he sweeps his hand around the plane's fuselage in a kind of gay-looking gesture. "Yeah," I reply, "even though it's kind of old. Do you have any newer ones?" "Uh .." he winces and half-smiles. "No, not really." "Too bad .." "This one gets me where I need to go, though." He's looking at me REAL HARD now, like he expects me to reach out, unzip his fly, and suck his little dick right there. "What do you do?" my dad asks. He's sensing the same thing that I am here, and he wants to keep this under control. We only have like another 25 minutes before we touch down in Green Bay. My dad doesn't want any hassles either. "I handle all their investments," he says, pointing to the Packers logo on his jacket. "Among other matters .." He pats his crotch. "Why don't you get to work on that now, honey? We'll be ready to land in a few minutes, and I need to be up in the cockpit then." "Dad?!" I turn to my dad. "Did he give you some extra money to suck his dick when we were boarding?" My dad shakes his head. "No, but I'll take it now. No problem .." He smiles and puts out his hand. "You're fucking kidding me, right ..?" Gary laughs. "No," I shake my head. "Here's a copy of the chat we had." I slide the slip of paper out of my pocket, which I printed right after I got offline with GBQB. "It doesn't say anything about doing anything with you. Just the offensive line .." "You're getting 40 FUCKING grand!" "And with your contribution, it'll be $41," I giggle. "You fucking expect me to give you 1,000 fucking dollars for a fucking blow-job!" "Mm hm," I answer. "And you'd better do it quick, too. Or you're gonna have to land the plane." "Fuck you, you little WHORE!" "Okay, but that'll be 2 grand," I reply, still smiling. "You fucking cunt!" he moves towards me, but my cell phone is out before he reaches me. "Ohhh, I get it .." I wave the phone in his face and hit speed dial. "HE was supposed to have arranged this. I'm sorry. I'll get HIM on the phone right now. Why don't you unzip your pants and get your cock out while I get this cleared up." Gary just stands there while I listen to GBQB's phone ring. "Yeah," GBQB answers. "Heya, it's me," I laugh. "Where are you?" "Up in the plane with Gary .." I pause a second and lean over towards Gary. "Oh, you want me to do that," I ask Gary, still smiling. "OK, that's cool .." While he stands there like a complete dork, I unzip his tan corduroy's, pull them down to his thighs, and grasp the elastic waistband of his Fruit of the Looms. "What's up, babe?" GBQB asks. "Why'd you call? Is there a problem?" "No," I giggle. "You just forgot to tell me to add Gary's blow job to the bill." "Gary's what?" "His blow job," I reply, pulling Gary's small, now-shrinking dick from his jockeys. "I've got his cock out right now. I just wanted to check and make sure it was all right before I started sucking. I mean he told me you were handling it. But that's another g, so I thought I'd better check with you first. Is it, ok?" "Put him on!" GBQB is pissed. "He wants to talk to you." I hand Gary the phone. He glares at me and backs away towards the cockpit. I can hear GBQB yelling at him in tiny little squeaks. "That's my girl," my dad whispers, patting my knee with a BIG smile on his face. "Fuck that .." I hiss back. "I'd like fucking DIE before I put that slimy shit in my mouth for FREE." "I don't think he'll be bothering us anymore," my dad chuckles. "Jesus, you are COLD!" I slip on my Walkman and start listening to the advance CD copy of Mach V's new album. Kyle Ware himself burned it for me in the studio and mailed it straight to me after they finished. Other kids won't be hearing this for another 2 MONTHS. But Kyle's a subscriber to Courtney's World, and he's REALLY trying to get IN with me. Which is one the perks of being Courtney Star, I guess ..? I just can't help wondering what Trishy Tanka would do if she knew her boy-band boyfriend keeps sending me emails BEGGING me to cum backstage at one of Mach V's concerts. I slip into a total zone-out for the rest of the flight, until I feel my dad's hand on my shoulder. Through the five-part harmony of "On My Knees," I see him mouth: "We're landing, honey." I buckle up, but still keep the headphones on. I even stay wrapped inside the music after we land, dancing down the plane's center aisle to the limo waiting for me on the runway. When I walk past Gary, I stop momentarily and stick out my hand. "Phone!" I giggle, floating through the swells of music. He scowls and hands me my cell. I snatch it from his hand, blow him a kiss, and go skipping down the runway to the limo. ------------------- There's a trick to getting into a hardcore OBE-zone. When I'm doing my normal webcam shoots, I can kind of just slide my mind in and out of my body on cue. But that's because I know the situation, and I've done it like a jillion times before. Stuff like this, though - GBQB's party - is WAY different. If I don't get myself into a REALLY deep zone, I'm going to TOTALLY start freaking out. I mean put yourself in my place for sec, okay ..? I'm going into this BIG MANSION filled with like I don't how many HUGE, horny, professional football players. And what's more ..? They ALL want EVERYTHING I've got. It's been PROMISED to them, and in their eyes I'm just this automated sex doll who's here solely for THEIR PLEASURE. I don't have a name, or a life, or feelings, or a mind. I mean WHAT guy wants to fuck a thirteen-year-old girl and actually THINK about who she might be or what he might be doing to her? Answer - NONE .. at least if they're not pedo-rapist serial killers or something. Let me tell you what all the guys here want tonight. They want this little thirteen-year-old slut to come in here and TAKE everything they dish out and beg for more. They want to feel this tiny little girl frolicking over their HUGE, MASSIVE, STRONG bodies like a little panting puppy. That's exactly what they want - to fuck a happy, scrappy little puppy that'll yip and roll over on command. They want to feel like GODS - all-powerful, like their cocks are mile-long baseball bats made of platinum or something. They EACH want to believe inside their hearts that they're THE BEST - the biggest, the hardest, the longest lasting. When they're done, they want walk away thinking that they've given this little fuck-puppy SUCH A MONSTER RIDE that nothing's going to compare FOR THE REST OF HER LIFE! They want me to cry a little while they fuck me, too. They want me to SHOW PAIN, but they also want me to be SO HORNY FOR THEIR COCKS that I'll "play with the pain" and keep TAKING IT even harder. They want me to challenge them to pound me into submission. They want to see this tough little thirteen-year-old slut girl put up a fight before she's finally BROKEN. And, when that happens, they want to do their little "got'cha dances." They want to throw their fists up in the air just like they do on the football field when they crush some opponent and make him their "bitch." They want to high-five each other over my sobbing, gasping, fetal body and celebrate TOTAL victory. They want to swagger and prance like they've just won the fucking SUPERBOWL. They want to lift my limp body up on their shoulders and parade me around like the Vince Lombardi trophy. That's what they WANT! What they don't want is for their little fuck-doll to be a human being, a real thirteen-year-girl who has to be at school tomorrow morning, and who just got dumped by a guy because she wears braces, has mousy brown hair and NO TITS! They also don't want RULES, or conditions, or STOP, DON'T DO THATs. And what they REALLY don't want to hear is the word "No." Courtney Star can NEVER say the word NO. If she does, the fantasy ceases. And when the fantasy ceases, it's doom's day for Courtney's World. My job is to make sure that NEVER happens .. even now, even when I'm SCARED TO DEATH. That's why I need to be in the DEEPEST zone I can find right now. That's why my soul needs to leave my body tonight as well as my mind. That's why I'm still wearing the headphones, why I haven't taken them off since the plane, and why I won't take them off the entire time I'm here. That's why I've switched from the Mach V CD to Train. That's why I've cranked the volume so loud that the thud of the bass and drums are resynchronizing my heartbeat. I'm not floating in ether tonight. I'm submerged beneath a frigid ocean, already drowned and inert, while up above a hurricane crashes - lightning, thunder and waves that no longer touch me. Dead, hollow eyes stare blankly through the dense, distorted refraction of electric guitars, purplish track lighting, and anxious, hungry bodies ... ------------ A thirteen-year-old girl steps out of the limousine. The limousine is parked at the apex of a horseshoe driveway. The girl steps out of the car's backseat. She is wearing headphones, which are attached to a Walkman strapped to a belt encircling her narrow, almost-boyish waist. Over her small, shivering form, she wears an extra-large Green Bay Packers starter jacket. Beneath the bulky coat, her pale, freckled body is bald and naked down to her knee-high yellow go-go boots. The thick, five-inch heels clunk across a lit cobblestone walkway. Her chaperone follows her, his eyes furtive and fixed on the oaken double doors looming before them. The girl and her chaperone are walking towards a mansion. Behind the windows lining the front of the house, wide dark torsos loom. Stark white eyes peer through muted lamplight in ravenous expectation. The door opens. The girl and her chaperone ascend the mansion's front steps. A tall, smiling, handsome white man - one of the most famous professional athletes alive -- extends his long, muscular arms. The girl falls into the star quarterback's powerful embrace. With no thought or exertion, he playfully lifts the girl's kicking yellow boots off the ground. The star quarterback kisses her powerfully, crushing the wind from her bony rib cage. Then, he unzips her oversized coat and exposes her nude, shivering body to the audience gathered behind the mansion's windows. "FUCK, would you LOOK AT THAT SHIT!" a deep, dark baritone voice booms across the nighttime chill. "I'm gonna get me some of that tight white tonight, awright ..? You just watch this shit. This shit is GOING DOWN!" The star quarterback spins the girl around, displaying all her charms to his guests. Then he throws her over his shoulder like a slain fawn. He enters the mansion in triumph to a chorus of cheers. Immobilized in the star quarterback's unyielding grip, the girl seems oblivious to her pending fate. Her eyes are closed behind the clicking pulse of the headphones, and her mouth curls into her famous vacant, vaguely ghoulish smile. Marching into the mansion's living room, QB's steps jar the girl's limp body. Her doll-like head bobbles to the rhythm of distant, private music. Bringing up the rear of the procession, the chaperone follows. His eyes dart about, adjusting to the light and the sudden throng of poised, powerful bodies. The oaken double doors close with a thump. The girl is inside the house. It begins. The room is bathed in the ambient, ethereal glow of flickering candles and a crackling, gas-lit fireplace. Immediately, the girl's face feels the humid rush of body heat mixed with the radiant warmth of flames. Approximately twenty massive, muscular men crowd the pathway between the vestibule and the spacious, sunken living room. The mixture of black, brown and white faces press up against the QB, each pair of eyes vying for a mouthwatering glimpse of their succulent prey. Some of the men are already in various stages of undress. Bare, chiseled torsos glisten in the firelight. Thick arms hang from shoulder blades like sides of beef. Muscular legs spring up from the marble floor like tree trunks; erect cocks jut out like heavy boughs; flaccid penises and soft scrotums dangle like ripening fruit. As the girl's vision adjusts to the dim glow, other shadowy shapes begin to sharpen along the blurred periphery of the room. In seconds, the girl recognizes the distinct outlines of five female forms ranging anywhere from their early twenties to mid-thirties. Two are white, one is Asian, and the other two are variable shades of brown - Hispanic, Indian, Middle Eastern, Black ..? It is impossible to determine anything more distinct in the diffuse light. What is apparent, though, is that these older women have now been abandoned with the arrival of the young thirteen-year-old girl. Taking advantage of their newfound freedom, they mill about the bar now, snorting lines of coke, lighting menthol cigarettes, and sneering at the fresh, pubescent prize who has suddenly rendered them sexless and superfluous. These willing women knew they were only the pre-game show, the warm-up act, the overture. Now they will sit back and watch REAL GAME as it plays out. The star quarterback points to a colossal black man -- the Packers' veteran starting tackle, a future Hall of Famer known as The Protector. "This one's for you!" QB shouts above the mob's roar. He hefts the girl off his shoulder and grasps both sides of her thin waist in his large white hands. He holds the girl out to the Protector, the way a proud mother presents a swaddled newborn to a doting father. The girl squirms enticingly for her new daddy. She arches her eyebrows at the Protector, licking her lips, thrashing her head to the music being pumped intravenously into her skull. While the crowd bursts into another round of raucous cheers, the girl reaches beneath the open folds of her Green Bay Packers jacket. She cups her two small breasts in either hand and offers them to the ebony colossus. The Protector bashfully smiles and shakes his head, pretending to good-naturedly wave off the honor of his first rights. Ignoring the Protector's feigned humility, QB thrusts the girl into the Protector's monstrous, laughing arms. The girl wriggles and wraps her thin white arms around the Protector's massive brown neck. She can barely clasp her hands above the giant's shoulder blades. The Protector bounces the girl up and down, playfully tickling below her bony ribs. Her small, egg-sized breasts jiggle and roll across her shuddering torso. The girl breaks out into a fit of giggles and hugs the Protector even tighter. The giant's eyes widen with wonder and hunger. "Take her, G .." Little bitch wants it .." "Give it to her, man .." "Mess that little white bitch up .." The cries rise to such a volume that they cut through the din of music sweltering inside the girl's headphones. She cranks the volume knob on her Walkman and continues thrashing her head to the circadian rhythm. The Protector bends his head. A long pink tongue slithers out from between his dark, thick lips. He mashes the girl's pale, quivering mouth against his slavering, obsidian jaws. He devours her bawling mouth. The girl returns his voracious kiss with her own whirling, probing tongue. While predator and prey feast upon each other's faces, the Protector's baseball mitt hands separate the folds of the girl's Green Bay Packers jacket. He clumsily peels the covering from her glistening pink torso, the way a Kodiak bear impatiently guts a squirming salmon. The girl writhes in his obdurate grasp, throwing her coltish legs around his monstrous waist, trying to climb him like a tree. The Protector paws the girl's pale, vulnerable breasts, tugging at the sensitive tissue, pinching the distended nubs of her nipples like ripe raspberries. "Ohhhhhhh, FUCK!" she moans, her eyes rolling back into her shiny forehead like marbles. The intent mob breaks into another carnal roar. The Protector is starting to "get to" the tough teenage girl, starting to "make her feel it," starting to assert not only his presence, but also the utter domination of the male species. "That's it, G, show the freaky little bitch you mean business .." "That'll teach her to fuck with the Pack .." "Little freak bitch gonna be good as dead by the time we're through with her .." The Protector's carnivorous mouth lunges at the girl's bare, exposed breasts. His long pink tongue slobbers; his thick dark lips suckle; his white teeth nip and gnash. The girl twists her body violently, torn between torture and titillation. Having thoroughly incapacitated his prey, the Protector ignores the girl's pathetic struggles and just FEEDS on her tender, tormented flesh. "OH FUCK!" she shrieks, her wails eliciting yet another outburst of spontaneous, testosterone-fueled catcalls. "Wreck her, G .." "Rip those little tits right off her .." "What's wrong, baby? Ain't'cha havin' fun?" While the Protector and the girl sink into their ecstatic struggle, the intent mob slowly closes in a ring around them. Sensing the sudden mood shift, the chaperone tries to elbow his way through the wave of massive bodies blocking him from the girl. A casual elbow lashes out, tossing the chaperone backwards like a scarecrow in a tornado. As the chaperone begins another sortie, a large, bullet-headed black man steps in front of him. "Step off cracker," he thumps the chaperone's chest with an index finger the size of a gun barrel. "Listen .." the chaperone begins. "Just chill and enjoy yourself," the bullet-headed bodyguard smiles. He waves his gold-ringed fingers towards the bar where the five "warm-up" ladies sit snickering. "Yo, why don't you get your bitch asses over here and earn some of that money we're payin' you? All right .." The ladies sit motionless for another second. "I ain't funnin' with your asses here. All right ..?" One of the naked brown ladies shrugs her shoulders, snorts the last line of coke on the bar, and shimmies her naked body towards the bodyguard and the chaperone. As she approaches, her features become more distinctly African American. Thick hipped and voluptuous, her skin resonates with a deep chocolate hue. Just below the stretched-out folds of her pot belly, brillowy curls culminate in a thatchy pubic nest. Her dilated pupils sparkle like black pearls against the bloodshot whites of her eyes. Her long straight hair shimmers with harsh relaxers and blond highlights. In another second, she presses her luscious, sweaty body against the chaperone's trembling chest. Her hand deftly snakes below his waist, finding and massaging his instinctual, subconscious bulge. The chaperone half-heartedly pushes her away. She attempts to distract him with steamy kisses along his gulping Adam's apple. "You, too," the bodyguard points to one of the white women, a buxom redhead with chipped teeth who appears to be the older of the pair. "And you," he crooks his finger at the other brown-skinned woman. When she looks up, her Middle Eastern features become apparent - wispy dark hair lining her cheeks, a faint moustache shading her painted lips, a thin coat of smooth black hair lightly covering her arms and breasts like eider down. "I SAID get your BITCH ASSES over here!" the bullet-headed man reiterates. The two ladies scowl, but quickly acquiesce to the bullet-headed man's authority. In another moment, they descend upon the chaperone, pinning him helplessly between their undulating, naked bodies. With his arms immobilized, the chaperone can do nothing as the ladies' skillful fingers lower his baggy chinos, yank down his BVDs and tickle his stiffening cock into full arousal. Totally overwhelmed, the chaperone can only watch now as the pack of simian beasts finish their descent upon his charge, the totally defenseless teenage girl. "Okay, now who wants a slice of white meat?" the Protector asks the murmuring mob, presenting the girl's succulent charms like a Thanksgiving turkey. "I hereby proclaim this little cunt open for business." Emboldened by the early, easy triumph of the Protector, anonymous paws begin reaching outward from the tightening throng. Brutish, callused hands begin mauling every exposed inch of the girl's moist, nubile charms. Rough, abrasive fingers tangle her mousy brown hair, scrape her soft narrow ass, gouge her flat heaving tummy, stroke her sinewy skittish legs. "Fucking freaky little white bitch .." The words filter into the girl's ears, cutting through the comforting cacophony of electric guitars and pounding drums. The horde's voices are uncomfortably close now, intruding into the fortress of chaos that has been sheltering the girl. She fingers the volume knob on her Walkman and cranks the volume output to maximum. The whole universe reverberates with heavy metal howl. The girl bites her lips, trying to retreat even further back into the security of her private abyss. She barely feels the sandpaper digits that inevitably split the delicate, humid petals of her labia. Strong, forceful hands push at the top of her forehead, bidding her to recline backwards and suspend herself on a bed of muscular arms. In seconds, the girl's body extends at a ninety-degree angle from the fulcrum of the Protector's 70-inch waist. Through the flutter of her eyelids, the girl watches as the Protector lifts his tent-sized gray t-shirt over his monstrous black body. The rolling, engulfing mass of his naked chest and belly reminds her of an unmade, king-sized waterbed. In another moment, the Protector sheds his xxx-tra large Bermuda shorts. His thick brown dick plops out like a fat knockwurst. While the army of muscular tentacles holds her squirming body in check, QB pats the Protector on the shoulder and hands the mammoth black man a condom package. The giant rips it open with his glinting ivory teeth then pops out the latex sheath. The Protector stretches the rubber to the size of a zip-loc bag, fitting it so snugly over his huge organ that the girl fears the prophylactic will surely burst. Biting his lower lip, the Protector slouches his bulk forward, pressing the barrel of his glans against the splayed opening of the girl's narrow, moist vulva. She inhales sharply, ready to scream through his impaling thrust. But as she opens her mouth, she feels another thick, rubbery cock-head slap her gasping cheeks. Instinctively, the girl relaxes her jaws and wets her lips, beckoning the nondescript roll of pungent flesh to pierce her gasping mouth. Tilting her head to the side, she allows the thick genital pipe complete access to her slurping mouth. Its head roughly butts up against the inside of her cheek, stretching the skin uncomfortably for three or four hard thrusts before the shaft slips down her tongue and into the opening of her throat. The girl howls into the fist of flesh that now suffocates her, lurching up uncontrollably when the Protector manages to wedge his entire cock-head into her strained pussy. With sweat pouring down his broad, furrowed brow, the Protector hunkers down and bulls his enraged cock forward. To gain more leverage, he wraps each of his beefy hands tightly around her respective thighs, his vise-like fingers etching contusions into her alabaster flesh, bruises as deep and dark as the color of his skin. "Get it in there, G .." "Cave in that tight, pink slice .." "Pound that freaky pussy .." "Don't let the bitch keep you out, homes. Wreck that shit!" The mob's jeers are now loud enough to encroach on the barrier of blaring music immersing the girl. She fiddles with the volume of her Walkman to no avail. She scrunches her eyes, closing them as tightly as they will go, trying in vain to reclaim the still, frozen vacuum of her inner-space. "Man, get these fucking headphones off her!" a voice pierces the sound shield. "They're in my fucking way." As the hard cock jabs in and out of the girl's mouth, she feels a pair of hands box her ears. Suddenly the protective headphones are sliding up her temples, the protective din of guitars retreating into electronic cricket chirps. "NO!" the girl tries to howl. But her cries are merely muffled sputters beneath the merciless, gagging onslaught of cock. In another second, the headphones are completely shorn from her head, and the Walkman stripped from her slender waist. --------- please, god, please .. no .. please .. The universe smacks me like an atom-bomb blast right between my tear-crazed eyes. "HOW'S THAT, CUNT?' "JESUS, MAN, YOU'RE REALLY FUCKING THAT MOUTH, AIN'T YA ..?" "FUCK, THIS BITCH IS TIGHT!" "COME ON, G, DON'T BE SUCH A PUSSY. PUT THE HURT ON HER. SHE DON'T FUCKING CARE. LOOK AT HER. SHE FUCKING LOVES THIS SHIT, DON'T YA', CUNT ..?" "I PAID GOOD MONEY FOR THIS PUSSY, MAN," QB pats his Protector on the shoulder. QB has this real gay, sick grin on his face as he watches the behemoth. He keeps patting him on his shoulder, his eyes glued to the ape's huge cock. "THAT'S IT, MAN. YOU GOT IT. NOW REALLY GIVE IT TO HER .. EVERY BIG BLACK INCH .. FUCK THAT TIGHT WHITE PUSSY .. YEAH ," QB cheers. "LOOK AT HER, MAN! YOU'RE KILLING HER WITH THAT BIG BLACK DICK, AND SHE'S LOVING EVERY FUCKING MINUTE OF IT, AREN'T YOU, BABY ..?" please .. just give me back my walkman, my headphones .. please .. god ... please .. I nod on reflex. I don't love even one fucking minute of this, but I'M not the one that QB's paying 40-grand to party with. He hired Courtney Star, and in Courtney's World getting bash-fucked by a 400 lb. cape buffalo is right up there with a $10,000 shopping spree at Hot Topic. "SEE, MAN, SEE ..?" QB's rubbing the humungoid's shoulders now, while the snorting gorilla hammers even more his HUGE cock into my bruised, aching pussy. "YOU JUST TAKE THAT PUSSY, BOSS. IT'S YOUR NIGHT. YOU FUCKING EARNED IT. SO DO WHATEVER YOU GOTTA DO .. WHATEVER YOU WANT TO DO. BELIEVE ME, COURTNEY HERE CAN TAKE IT. AIN'T THAT RIGHT, BABY ...?" please .. just give me back my walkman, my headphones .. please .. god ... please .. "FUCKIN' BITCH IS SO TIGHT!" the humungoid grunts. From his knit brow, sweat rains warm drops onto my bare tummy. His condom is in latex shreds by now, his bareback bronco bucking into my broken pussy. He doesn't give a shit who I am, or what he might be doing to me. He just FUCKS! I see this all the time. He's on a mission -- possessed by the URGE, the NEED, the DRIVE, the HUNGER. He's obsessed with the dream of burying his whole HUGE cock deep into my teenage tummy. Any sane guy would see that's impossible, but sanity has nothing to do with guys when they're FUCKING. And this crazed humungoid is like a shark whiffing a gallon of fresh blood. "GODDAMIT, BITCH, GIVE ME THAT FUCKING PUSSY!" he spits in my face, pounding up into me with such fury that it feels like an ax splitting my belly. I want to retch, BIG TIME. My stomach is all gooey, the consistency of melted wax. I feel like I could shit my heart out. But with the cock plugging my windpipe, I kind of just keep heaving and gurgling in little spurts. I don't even have to close my eyes now. Dark spots start popping off like Chinese firecrackers across my retinas. My body feels like a bag of dust scattered in a cyclone. The pack of hands, mouths and cocks gorge themselves. I'm hurled in and out of my body, my mind, my spirit .. ---- My boots are gone .. my jacket is gone .. they play keep away with my Walkman and headphones .. my bones cry .. ---- "OKAY, NOW IT'S TIME FOR SOME HEAVY CONTACT DRILLS. EVERYBODY LINE UP AND TAKE A SHOT AT THE TACKLING DUMMY OVER HERE .." At some point, I can't remember when, I've drifted back into this dimension. Right now, it TRULY sucks to be me. I'm bent over a pool table, my belly cutting into the cold wood, my dirty anklets kicking in the air, trying to run. When I dare to open my eyes, I see a kaleidoscope of ever-changing faces sneering down at me while harsh hands absent-mindedly molest every square millimeter of my black-and-blue spangled flesh. "THAT'S IT, BITCH, OPEN YOUR EYES .." The first hard dick blasts through my tired pussy lips and rams up into my lungs. Balls slap up into the top of my spread pussy like a sack of lead weights. "oooooo," the moan runs like spit down my chin. "THAT'S IT, HOMES. DEAL THAT BONE. PLANT THAT BIG BLACK BABYMAKER UP HER TIGHT WHITE BELLY .." "SHUT UP, WILL YA'? I CAN'T HEAR THE BITCH CRYING .." The cock digs through every nook in my numb pussy. I get this image in my mind, a rat poking its nose through a sewer looking for food. I can feel its whiskers inside me, its tiny legs scurrying up into my thorax. A fist clutches my hair and yanks my head back. "TALK TO ME, BITCH! WHO AM I? WHO'S FUCKING YOU RIGHT NOW, CUNT? WHO!?" "My daddy," I blubber, knowing the script he wants to hear by heart. Even while I'm getting my guts fucked out, I'm STILL Courtney Star. I STILL know what's expected of me, what I need to do and say to maintain the illusion that ALL men NEED to hear. "You're my daddy. My new daddy. Please, daddy, fuck me good .. fuck your little daughter good .." "DAMN RIGHT I'M YOUR DADDY NOW, CUNT. AND DADDY TAKES WHAT HE WANTS. ALL RIGHT ..?" "yes, daddy .." I can feel his dick-stalk throb, and in another second he's dumping his load into the reservoir of his rubber. Temporarily satiated, the rat slinks back out of my belly, and I feel another nose sniffing at my tunnel entrance. "YOU GONNA FEEL THIS, BITCH! I GUARANTEE, YOU GONNA FEEL THIS .." This next cock charges ahead. I can feel it trembling as it slip-sloshes inside me. I know that sensation REAL WELL. This fucker is already set to dump a load. I tighten my tired kegels and clamp down desperately on his shaft. I reach my hand around and tickle his hair-trigger balls. "FUUUUUUUUUUUCK!" Drained and defeated, the second cock manages a few more half-hearted stabs before it goes all noodly. My pussy spits it out. "YO, NIGGER, WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT SHIT?! WE GOT MOTHERFUCKIN' REPUTATIONS TO UPHOLD HERE. YOU GET YOUR SORRY BLACK ASS TO THE END OF THAT LINE, AND WE'LL TRY THIS SHIT AGAIN .." "IT'S TIME SOMEONE SHOWS YOU BOYS HOW IT'S DONE .." The third guy is as big as the Colossus of Rhodes. I can tell by his smell - corned beef, cabbage and Aqua Velva -- that's he's white. He's also even FATTER than the Protector. Thank god his dick is only like 6 inches hard because he plops his lard belly on my back and starts CRUSH-FUCKING the hell out of me. i can't fucking breath, god damn it .. Christ .. fuck .. dark tunnel .. no light .. no jesus .. just falling .. ---- Cold .. inside .. my tummy .. icy tendrils crawling up like frost crystals on a window pane .. Through the curtain of receding darkness, I feel gobs of chilly lubricant being smeared generously over the openings of my pussy and asshole. "WHAT DOES THIS MAKE? LIKE 20 ALREADY?" "YOU'RE HER SWEET 16, BRO'. MAKE IT ONE SHE'LL REMEMBER. ALL RIGHT .." "JUST SAVE SOME OF THAT SHIT FOR ME .." "WHAT ARE YOU GONNA TAKE, HER PUSSY OR ASS ..?" I can't distinguish between one cock or the next one or the one after that. During the intervals between cocks, I can feel cool air blowing through the open shutters of my vacated pussy. Then another cock slams the window shut, and the hammering begins again. More cocks, more cold goo. Whenever the viscosity starts binding up, more frigid lube is squirted deep into my blasted crevices. Then I'm mounted again, and the line resumes moving, its tail stretching through space-time back into infinity. Some cocks prefer my pussy, others my ass. I can't even tell the difference anymore. My two holes have merged into one gaping wound. Once in awhile, though, a particular cock will stab into me so viciously that it slices through the numbness and makes me FEEL again! god, I hate you .. why? .. please, just let me be numb .. "DO HER, HOMES. MAKE THE LITTLE FREAK SCREAM .." "GOD, I CAN'T WAIT TO GET ME SOME OF THAT TIGHT ASS .." "THAT'S PRETTY GOOD FOR A WHITE BOY, BUBBA .." "HOW'S THAT PUSSY, G? I WAS RIGHT, WASN'T I? BITCH DONE ALREADY TAKEN 20 COCKS UP THAT SLICE, AND SHE'S STILL SNUG AS A BUG IN A RUG .." LOOK AT THAT SHIT! A TIGHT END FUCKIN' HER TIGHT END .." Occasionally, somewhere within the maelstrom of bestial rutting, the friction of cock inside me coaxes a sickly, wheezing orgasm. I bleat and slump over. The pack roars like hyenas. "YOU'RE PLAYIN' IN THE PROS NOW, CUNT .." "SEE IF YOU CAN POP HER AGAIN, HOMES. LITTLE FREAKY BITCH CAN'T GET ENOUGH THIS SHIT, CAN YOU ...?" "FUCK, I THINK SHE'S CUMMING AGAIN. SLAM THAT MEAT IN HER, G. SPIKE THAT SHIT, RIGHT IN HER FUCKING ENDZONE .." Hands smack in "high-fives." Fists grab hanks of my hair and drag me whimpering to the floor. "ROUND TWO!" A forest of hard cock surrounds and imprisons me; everywhere I turn, they shake and rattle menacingly in my face like spears. Fingers fashion my hair into a makeshift ponytail, tying the base with a sticky condom. Fists tug at the ponytail, yanking my head to and fro like a balloon on a string. "GET THAT MOUTH OVER HERE, BITCH .." "LOOK AT ME WHEN YOU'RE CHOKIN' ON MY BONE, CUNT .." "GIVE ME SOME OF THAT SKULL .." "CAN YOU TAKE TWO COCKS IN THAT CUNT MOUTH OF YOURS, CUNT .." They pass my skull between them like a football, wild-eyed boys executing some crazy complicated trick-play they drew on my back with x's and o's. It never occurs to them that a girl is crying inside the inflated bag of skin they're kicking around. Why the fuck should it? What's the fucking fun in that? "DAMN, SHE'S GOT TWO COCKS IN HER FREAKY MOUTH .." "LET'S SEE IF IT'LL FIT THREE .." "SHOVE THAT DICK UP HER NOSE .." "JESUS, NIGGER, DON'T BE WAVING AROUND THAT SLIMY, NAPPY-ASS DICK. WIPE THAT SHIT OFF IN HER HAIR. WHERE ARE YOUR FUCKING MANNERS, BOY ..?" "THAT'S IT, CUNT, CHIN TO BALLS, CHIN TO BALLS .." There are more cocks swirling around me than grains of sand in all the world's deserts and beaches combined. I suck until I can't even open my mouth anymore. They don't fucking care. They just pry my jaws open with their beefy fingers. Slowly, I sink into the calm eye of the raging flesh vortex. Swirling again .. sweet sunsets and dusks settling into twilight over my eyes .. light recedes from my skull, my brain .. swirling .. like water finding a deep dark drain .. ------ An ICEBERG crashes through the arctic quietude. ICY SHARDS of FRIGID WATER burst through the bulkhead of still silence, hurdling me back into the revolving pinwheel of fiery, prodding pitchforks. "THAT OUGHT TO WAKE THE BITCH UP .." "YOU DIDN'T THINK WE WERE GONNA LET YOU SLEEP THROUGH YOUR BIG PARTY, DID YOU, CUNT ..?" "GET ANOTHER BUCKET AND SOAP UP HER HOLES. SHE'S STARTING TO SMELL LIKE THE CHICKEN OF THE SEA MERMAID DOWN THERE .." I'm back on the pool table, my shoulders pinned to the felt beneath two granite knees. Stupidly, I try to wriggle free. More buckets of icy, soapy water slop and slosh over my naked body. "fuck ..." I can barely sputter. Something that feels like a toilet brush starts scouring the numb, sore creases of my pussy and ass. More buckets of cold water shock me back into HARD reality. I can't even shiver anymore I am SO FUCKING TIRED. But they won't let me drift back into my blissful coma. I'm just a piece of prey, fresh-kill for the pack. Rough, eager paws pat me dry with big, fluffy towels that smell of sunshine and fabric softener. Suddenly, lips kiss me passionately on the mouth. A tongue dances between my tired jaws and flicks upward against my palate. I guess my automatic pilot takes over. From somewhere deep within the ocean of pain, my tongue resuscitates. I kiss the lips back. The mouth moves down my face to my bruised breasts. Delicately, tenderly the tongue teases my nipples back into consciousness. My whole body starts waking up now, and candlelight starts creeping through the teary veil covering my eyes. I look up into the face of GBQB. He smirks, lifting himself up by his strong white arms. "That's my girl," he whispers before his stiff lance pierces the scrubbed folds of my labia. "Jesus, you're incredible," he keeps sweet-talking me. "Worth every fucking penny .. every fucking penny." His ass swivels and grinds, his dick twirling like a ballet dancer inside me. He leans down and kisses me again, sweetly. I almost forget there's like 50 people standing around and watching us. "LOOK AT THAT WHITE BOY FUCK HER .." "GET HER GOOD AND JUICY FOR ME, BRO' .." "THE LITTLE CUNT LIKES THAT, DON'T SHE .." Something about the look in his eyes and the way he's fucking me -- like I'm really SOMEBODY, like I'm a human being-- touches those temperamental frazzled nerves in my clit. Even though my thighs ache and my pussy is SO raw, I still lift my bruised legs and wrap them around his strong lower back. We swim into each other's bodies for liquid minutes that seem to stretch into my adulthood. In - out, up - down, see - saw, back - forth, open - close ... Then, WAY TOO SOON, I feel that tell-tale quiver in his dick and balls. "Shit .." QB sighs his cumshot into the bubble at the end of his rubber. We share one more kiss before he slides off. "OKAY," he announces to the rejuvenated pack, "SHE'S ALL YOURS AGAIN." Freshly fucked and frustrated, I allow my rag-doll body to be posed again. This time I'm lowered like a sack of flour onto one hard cock. As it glides up into my belly, I press my palms into the guy's chiseled pecs and start riding him like a pogo stick. Suddenly, I've GOT to get this cum. It's like the MOST important thing in the world to me. QB woke up my clit, and now it needs to feed. My pussy EATS the cock inside me, devouring it. I feel hands playing with my ass, but I DON'T care. I'm going to chase down my cum and nail it up inside me if it's the last thing I do. That's why I don't say anything when I feel a big gob of lube squirt into my ass crack. "Stick it in," I hear my voice challenge the bloated cock-head teasing my sphinx. "Come on," I croak. "STICK IT IN, GOD DAMN IT!" The pack suddenly shuts up. The cock at my ass hesitates a moment, then skewers my sphinx. He's thrusting not even ten seconds before I turn to the crowd and sneer again. "Okay, which of you studs is going to fuck my mouth?" I dare them. "Come on. I've got an open hole here. What are you all, faggots? COME ON!" "I'll show you who's a faggot, you freaky little bitch," one of the pack steps forward. His black dick is long but barely even half-hard. He's pumping it and stroking it, trying to twirl some life back into it. But he's still pretty soft by the time he reaches me. "What are going to do with that thing?" I spit right in his piss hole and turn back to the pack. "COME ON, doesn't somebody got a real cock out there?" "Shut your bitch mouth and SUCK IT!" He grabs my ponytail and mashes my mouth up against his still-limp dick. I lick the rubbery shaft and his balls, and I even give him some ass play with my fingers. But he's a goner, and the crowd knows it. "Come on, nigger, what's wrong?" "Would you look at that shit?" "Sit down, nigger!" "Man, that is some sorry shit." "IT'S NOT HAPPENING," I snap at Limp Dick and point to the sidelines. "NEXT?!" But he keeps standing there, wagging his black linguini at me until another cock - a big, juicy, HARD one -- pushes him aside. While Limp Dick shuffles off into the peanut gallery, this fresh stud LORDS his dick over my hungry face, slapping me silly with it before he plunges it between drooling lips. Now I'm STUFFED with dick. The REAL hardcore, thrash-fuck gangbanging FINALLY begins. From now until the end of time, an eternity of cocks simultaneously torments every hole in my body. I hump and suck through my second, third and fourth winds, while the cocks keep coming and cumming. Soon my face is glazed with a coating of sperm as thick and sticky as marshmallow frosting. One cock after another gears up, breaches a hole, and then spends its spew in my ass, pussy or mouth. Yet, despite each of my small victories, the onslaught of flesh never ceases. For every player that goes down, another from the bench takes his place. THIS IS WAR! -- inexhaustible artillery battering an insurmountable fortress. I don't want to lose or surrender. Yet, I know eventually they'll BREAK me. Losing gracefully is part of being Courtney Star and living in Courtney's World. Sure, I get to put up a fight - a GOOD FIGHT -- but in the end HARD COCK always has to win over tight pussy. That's the DREAM men pay for, and that's what Courtney Star delivers. But without the fight, cock's victory over pussy is meaningless. And above all that's what Courtney Star gives her men - MEANING! So the war rages on -- one cock forever poised at my slack drooling jaws, policing every remaining breath that I take, forcing me to stare headlong into fit after fit of scalding cum; the next cock jutting up into my tummy like Cleopatra's Needle while I ride it hopelessly -- Sisyphus on a teeter-totter; the last cock tearing my sphinx into raw tatters, caving my flat, narrow bottom into a muddy sinkhole. ---------------- "Thanks, baby, you were awesome," QB pecks me on the cheek as I stand in the doorway of the mansion. I'm leaning against my dad. I have to. If he weren't here right now, I'd fall over on my face. "There's an extra 10 G's in there, too," QB points to the suitcase of unmarked bills my dad now clutches. "I didn't think it'd get that crazy, honest. I don't even know who half those guys were that showed up, or where they came from. They just kept coming in. I'm sorry, baby. Really .." "Don't sweat it .." I whisper. My WHOLE BODY aches. Even my hair hurts. "It was fun." "I don't know how you did it," QB shakes his head in disbelief. "You just never stopped. You just took it all .. every single guy, every single thrust, every single cum shot .. you fucking TOOK IT ALL! Jesus, I don't know how you can even move now." "I'm still horny," I smile at him and turn to my dad. "Daddy, can you fuck me on the plane ride home?" "Sure, baby," my dad pats me on the head. "It's like I tell everyone," my dad confides to GBQB. "The little slut can't get enough." "Unreal," GBQB scratches his head as we turn around and I limp towards the waiting limo. "How bad is it, pumpkin?" my dad asks when we're safely in the back of the limo and behind the privacy glass. "It only hurts when I exist," I quip. "I just hope you're all right in school today," my dad muses while he rubs my neck and shoulders. "Dad ..?!" "Don't look at me," he shrugs his shoulders. "I'm not the one who booked a private, out-of-town gangbang show on a school night." "But dad ..?!" "Your mother and I told you when we agreed to let you start Courtney's World. It is NOT to interfere with school. Do you remember your promise, pumpkin? Do you?" "Yes, dad," I sigh. "Besides, you need to start working on a solution for Friday night. It's the day after tomorrow, and we need to put SOMETHING on the webcast. Reza's not about to start refunding a million dollars in pre-pays because you can't find a date." He pauses. "Maybe I can scare up some kid at the bus terminal, you know, a runaway or something ..?" "I said I'll HANDLE IT, dad," I hiss through my teeth. "Now would you just let me sleep 'til we get back home? Please ..?" "Sure, pumpkin," my dad smoothes back my bangs. "I'm sorry. I know you'll handle it. You always do." "Just don't worry, dad. I'll think of something. I promise." I cuddle up against him and nuzzle his belly with my nose. He smells like pussy. I wonder what my mom will say. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+