Summer Blackburn

Summer Blackburn was a lithe, 11 year old blonde beauty and trained dancer. Inspired by such hit TV shows as "Dancing with the Stars", "So you think you can dance?", and "America's best dance crew", she begged her parents to sign her up for lessons beginning when she was only 5. Over the years she became highly proficient in the art of ballet, tap, and hip-hop techniques. When she expressed her desire to treat her art/sport more seriously, she competed in local and regional competitions and her parents were realizing that dance was her true passion and possible future career.

Like so many modern families today, the tech-saavy Blackburns created a channel on YouTube as a vehicle to help launch Summer's budding dance career. Their channel featured Summer dancing to various choreographies at their homemade dance studio; her 4 minute video clips always highlighting her beauty and alluring flexibility. They have since racked up thousands of subscribers for their channel and her uploaded videos received millions of views. An awkward truth however was that if a viewer clicked on 'video statistics' for any of her dances, it showed that the top online demographics who watched the the little girl were 1. male 45-54 years, 2. male 35-44 years, and 3. male 25-34 years - revealing the child's extreme popularity among likely pedophiles.

Summer's growing internet fame soon caught the attention of local TV show producers who felt that the pretty, bright, energetic young girl was perfect to star on their new show directed at preteen children. If they played their cards right, the studio heads felt that they potentially had the next Miley Taurus (teen star of the hit show "Hanna Fontana") on their hands. Jumping at the chance, Summer signed on to film a pilot for the show which aired to record-breaking ratings on the children's cable channel, and committed further to a full season, 23 episode contract. While not a household name yet, she was on the verge of breaking out as the next 'big thing.' Clothing retailers were even calling her agents to ask about the possibility of putting the young child's likeness on girls' clothing and merchandise if her show goes on to become a major hit. Everything was looking up and rosy for the energetic blonde.

Brett Donner

In a different part of the city, fate had given 30 year old single man Brett Donner an entirely different set of life experiences. Born into a physically abusive household, young Brett was taken from his drug addicted biological parents at the age of 3 and sent to live in a series of foster homes. He rarely stayed in one household for longer than a few years at a time, and always seemed to have the misfortune of getting placed in homes where the adults were primarily motivated by the money they would receive from the state rather than providing the boy with love and stability.

So it was that young Brett grew up with extremely poor self-esteem. While moderately handsome, he was so shy that he never had a single girlfriend throughout grade school and was always known as 'that quiet loner over there' by his peers. And even though he was highly intelligent, he never believed in himself enough to pursue college and so beginning at age 18 started work in random construction work, mostly for a contractor who happened to be a childless widower. This older man was the first in Brett's life to take any kind of interest in him and the two eventually developed enough trust in each other to become more or less surrogate father and son.

For two reasons, this period of Brett's life would become central to the present story. One is for the invaluable skills he would go on to learn about the construction trade, particularly in house room renovations and remodeling. The other is for what his boss would leave behind after he tragically dies in a heart attack when Brett is 29.

As close a friendship as Brett developed with his contractor boss while he was alive, one thing that the older man would never learn about was a certain fire that burned in the mind of the young man. This fire was a deep physical attraction to children in general and preteen girls in particular.

Brett cannot remember how he became a pedophile. He simply remembers, as many child lovers do, that he developed his first crushes on the prettiest girls at school as early as when he was in the 1st grade. But rather than outgrowing the attraction as he entered puberty, Brett continued to find the smooth hairless skin on a young child to be extremely physically arousing. In his younger days he was confused and conflicted by such feelings, but as he grew into a man he accepted the truth that different people are aroused by different things in life, and for him they happened to be the absence of adult reproductive traits on a person (in other words - flat chests, narrow hips, high-pitched voice, and hairless pubic mounds).

Brett never acted on his strong impulses. The most he would ever do is go to the beach and catch occasional glimpses of the outline of little girls' pussies when they showed through a camel toe on their wet bikini bottoms; or better yet, when the fabric on a loose fitting pair of swimsuits would shift to the side and his eyes would catch, however briefly, their smooth bald pussies in full glory (sometimes deliciously covered in specks of beach sand).

Other than this harmless voyeurism, Brett's other passion was in reading child erotica stories on internet literature sites. They provided him with a healthy outlet for satisfying his sexual urges as he masturbated nightly to the many stories describing child love. As he lacked any conventional social life to speak of, he escaped the dreariness of everyday life by escaping into the fantasy worlds of the erotic stories; imagining to be the adult characters in all of his favorite storylines.

Unbeknownst to him however, a series of events would soon unravel (beginning with his boss's death) in rapid succession that would bring his and Summer Blackburn's lives on an unexpected collision course.

* * *

Edward Munoz was described by all who knew him as a hard-working and honest man whose life was taken much too soon at the age of 59 following a massive heart attack. Because he was a widower who never remarried and lacked any biological children, a large contingent of his adult siblings and cousins had gathered at the law office of the attorney who was handling Munoz's will. All the Hispanic eyes in the crowded room were glancing curiously at the lone Caucasian man, Brett, who had arrived on invitation by Munoz's attorney, David Goldwyn.

To the shocked disappointment of nearly everyone in the room, Goldwyn announced that Munoz's will specified that while several treasured family keepsakes and heirlooms would be distributed to various relatives, and his construction business passed on to his older brother Jorge, the bulk of Munoz's personal financial assets - $50,000 in cash, his prized Chevy Camaro, a window-less van (a type of vehicle given the derisive nickname 'rape vans'), and the jewel of the bunch, his secluded house located just outside the city limits (where his nearest neighbor was located more than 2 miles away) - would all go toward who Munoz described as "the son that I never had - Brett Donner."

The Munoz clan muttered obscenities under their breath and stabbed poor Brett with repeated icy stares, but none could change the explicit wishes in a dead man's last will and testament, and so all had eventually had to leave the office carrying their heirlooms while Brett still sat motionless in his chair; his jaw nearly on the floor after realizing Edward Munoz had such deep love and care for him. He regretted not doing more for the older man while he was alive, and a tear ran down his face as he became overwhelmed by the first real gesture of kindness that anyone had ever shown him.

* * *

Moving day was bittersweet for Brett. On one hand he was gonna miss the tiny studio apartment that had been his home since he left his last foster family after turning 18. He thought back to all the nights he lay alone on his cot jacking off to visions of a heaven someday where he would be simultaneously pleasured by six angelic beauties. In his fantasy he would have one young nude child straddle his face as he licked her pussy, two more on each side that he would fingerfuck, one girl bouncing up and down on his cock, and the last two girls each shoving one of his big toes into their tight wet cunts. It was the vision of a heaven for someone whose life on Earth had so far been met with nothing but indifference and cruelty.

There was no doubt however that Brett was NOT going to miss living in the high-crime, high-unemployment area of the city, a region full of numerous crack cocaine and methamphetamine addicts that painfully reminded him of his earlier life. But no, Brett was moving on up, to exchanging urban blight for the rustic green woods that Edward Munoz had called his home. With the last of his limited possessions (his personal laptop being the most important) loaded into the rented u-haul truck, he set off on the highway toward the city limits hoping for lady luck to finally turn in his favor.

30 miles later when he pulled up to the driveway of the house, he remarked at how much privacy he was now surrounded by. Tall trees walled off three sides of the property and the fourth (the driveway) curved considerably off the main street such that the home was not visible to passingby motorists. With his nearest neighbor 2 miles away and the street itself sparsely used by motorists due to the new freeway opening 5 miles south, Brett figured he could scream and shout as loud as he can and no one would be able to hear him.

The inside of the two story home was clean and spartan, reflective of a dwelling that accommodated a single widower for decades. It was still fully furnished with Edward's belongings. Family photos of the Munoz clan were taken off the walls and tables sat empty of the heirlooms now in possession by his relatives, but otherwise all the modern amenities (fridge, oven, dishwasher, etc.) and furniture (bedroom, dining set) were left untouched.

It was at this time that he recalled a sealed envelope that David Goldwyn had given him along with the keys and deed to the house. He was instructed not to open the letter until he was inside the house. Reaching into his inner jacket pocket, he pulled out the slim envelope and broke its seal, revealing a small key and a folded piece of paper inside. Upon opening the paper, it simply read:

First National Bank - Main City Branch
0895-9987-2242
Box #285

It appeared as though Edward Munoz kept a safe deposit box at the city bank. What could be in it, Brett wondered. More heirlooms that he was reluctant to bequeath to his relatives? Additional cash? The bank had already closed for the day, plus it was a considerable drive back to the city so Brett promised he would go check it out first thing in the morning tomorrow. Meanwhile he examined the rest of the house, impressed by how organized and clean Edward had kept it. Though Brett was a bit hurt that Edward had never invited him over in all the years of their friendship, he remained grateful to this one true friend that has done more for him than any other person in his life. As he reminisced about the years he's known the kind older man, he opened a door in the hallway which led down, via some staircase, down into an area he presumed was the basement of the house. Upon close inspection he noticed how spacious it was down there. It was a half completed basement with a lot of potential.

"Gee, look at all this space." he said to himself. "I never had a place this big in all my life. Fucking basement's so big an entire person could live down here."

* * *

Tuesday in the early afternoon meant that the bank was relatively empty and so Brett was quickly ushered behind the security door and into the enclosed room with all the safe deposit boxes.

"Feel free to take your time." said the teller as she exited the room and closed the door, leaving Brett to complete privacy. He soon located box 285 and opened it using the key found in his letter.

Inside was nothing but another envelope and a small, external computer hard drive. Brett was admittedly disappointed. He watched enough movies in his life to expect large stacks of cash to be staring back at him. Instead, the entire box was empty save for the white envelope and what, the old man's useless computer files?

"What kind of fucking game is this?" he muttered as he tore it open. Inside was a handwritten letter from the deceased Edward Munoz, dated 6 weeks before his heart attack.

Dear Brett,

If you are reading this letter it means I am already dead. Yeah pal, the doctor just told me I'm a walking coronary waiting to drop dead. It's only a matter of time. I likely won't last the year. Haven't told anyone about it. Don't intend to. If it happens, it happens, but I have been busy getting my house in order. I hope you are not too disappointed by the meager belongings that I've passed on to you. Wish I could've given you the business too, but then my fucking brothers would involve you in an endless series of lawsuits, so I figure it was best to give it to one of those pendejos (Spanish for 'idiot').

Brett, I never had any children of my own but if there's one person I can consider my son that would be you. I know that life hasn't been kind to you, and so I give you what little I can to brighten it up a bit. Take the $50 thousand and do whatever you want. Blow it all on hookers and booze, I wouldn't care. But Brett, I have a feeling that hookers aren't what you'd be spending it on.

It was always too awkward of a subject to discuss with you in person, but Brett, I need you to understand that you have a friend in me. Someone who understands. Brett, I know you. And by that I know the REAL you. I've seen your eyes during the numerous times we would be working on someone's roof and the schoolbus would drop off the kids in the afternoons. The way you watched those little girls in their white shirts and plaid skirt school uniforms. You tried your best to hide it from me, but there was no mistaking the thirst I sensed in you. Relax Brett, I wasn't gonna rat you out or anything. In fact, the reason I 100% trust my intuition about you is because ... I too ... share your thirst.

Have you eve wondered why I never remarried in all these years, or even dated anyone exclusively? My only wife Alejandra, bless her soul, was a marriage of convenience. In the hispanic culture a man faces great pressure from his family to marry. If he doesn't they think that he's a homo. So I married her, and she was good to me, but I was never attracted to her. When she died of breast cancer I truly grieved. But my real attraction, all my life, has been the same as yours. As proof, why don't you look up the contents of this hard drive? It's password protected - AFIXIO562. VERY IMPORTANT - MAKE SURE YOU DO THIS IN THE PRIVACY OF YOUR HOME!

Anyways, once I knew about you I always wanted to have you join me in enjoying our mutual hobby together. But I was always afraid that your whole view of me might change, or that you could possibly talk to the cops. Or simply put, it's not common meeting another who shares my interests outside of the internet. I was going to tell you about it one day, but damn this luck, now I just find out I could die any day. So I leave behind to you, in addition to the house, my cars, and everything in my savings account, my TRUE treasure. You'll soon see what I mean. And one last message. There is nothing wrong with people like us. We are vilified by society for who we choose to LOVE. But you know what? I can't think of any society that has ever suffered because its adults chose to love children too much.

Good luck my son. I love you.

Edward Munoz

* * *

Excited to learn that his former employer was a pedophile much like himself, Brett quickly drove home, lucky that he didn't get pulled over for a speeding ticket and immediately hooked up his own laptop to the external drive. As Edward had written, it was password protected. Once opened, he realized that it was full of over 1 TERABYTES of images and video files, stored across what appeared to be over a hundred different file folders. The folder names used a lot of abbreviations and so were not immediately clear what its exact contents were, but by this point Brett knew. He knew and fully realized by then that Edward Munoz was his kindred spirit. He opened one of the folders at random.

He noticed 8 large video files in .mp4 format, each over 3 GB in size and their titles listed as:

• Kiddie Fuck Princess Pageant: West Coast Regionals - 2013
• Kiddie Fuck Princess Pageant: East Coast Regionals - 2013
• Kiddie Fuck Princess Pageant: SemiFinals - 2013
• Kiddie Fuck Princess Pageant: Finals - 2013
• Kiddie Fuck Princess Pageant: Finals - 2012
• Kiddie Fuck Princess Pageant: Finals - 2011
• Kiddie Fuck Princess Pageant: Finals - 2010
• Kiddie Fuck Princess Pageant: Finals - 2009

He randomly opened the "west coast" 2013 file and fast forwarded to around the 30 minute mark of the video.

Onscreen appeared numerous naked bodies of grown men; so many that they completely filled the screen. Embedded between some of the men were four much smaller nude bodies - female children he gathered by their longer haircuts. The children were unbelievably allowing the men to take turns urinating into their gaping assholes.

This was child pornography! More shockingly, the children seemed WILLING PARTICIPANTS!

While Brett has read his share of child erotica literature, he had never viewed any actual child porn and did not know how much the real porn would deviate from the fictional kiddie porn in the stories. This was certainly not the rumored underground videos of children frightened or coerced into sexual molestation. No, instead the children presently onscreen appeared to be pros and that this was hardly the first time they appeared sexually onscreen.

A voice offscreen directed a message for one of the nude girls. "Oops, looks like your gape's closing a bit Tiffany honey. Hey, someone fuck Ms. Kessler a few more strokes please so she gets her gape back? Thanks Jason ... wow, so fucking sexy."

Brett nearly had a heart attack himself as he had never before laid eyes on such graphic visual lewdness. He closed out of the file to see if all folders contained child porn. Folder after folder, his suspicion was verified. Title after title showed underaged girls 13 and below engaging in all manners of sexual activity. Some videos featured young adult women, but only there to play the role of babysitters or young mothers. The "stars" were always the children. A few videos featured young boys, but for the large part, Edward Munoz's vast collection seemed have pre-teen children as the main attraction and the company logo that appeared before many of the videos listed a "Jim Phillips" as producer, whoever he was.

It was apparent to Brett that Edward's collection must have taken the man years, possibly over a decade, to accumulate. While the "Jim Phillips" kiddie porn were large files in crisp HD format, some of the oldest videos were worse in quality and smaller in size and duration, and appeared to have been converted to .mp4 or .avi from an original VHS recording. From the clothes (before participants took them off) and hairstyles on the children, these older clips looked to have been from the early 1990s. Funny, Brett thought, that the 10 year old girl he was watching onscreen getting fucked in doggiestyle over a couch would be a full grown woman and close to his age today.

He was both in such shock and awe over his employer's secret life that he couldn't even properly masturbate on the first night, and it would take a few days passing until Brett would get into a regular routine of masturbating to another of the videos in the collection. There were so many files - thousands of them, all child porn - that they seemed impossible to be viewed in the course of just a few days or even a week. But Brett knew that with a house to himself and money in the bank, he had nothing but time for the immediate future. He felt luckier than a man who had just won the lottery.

But Edward Munoz's "gift" to his surrogate son would soon turn into a curse. With one of the largest child pornography collections belonging to one man, and $50,000 in cash sitting in his bank account, Brett Donner became a complete and utter hermit and recluse. What little social life he had before, he now had absolutely none as he would do nothing but sit in his home watching child pornography all day; leaving the house maybe once a week to restock on food at the grocery store.

Soon enough the state of his body deteriorated, transitioning from a fit young man's that worked in construction to that of an emaciated, sickly looking man's. A fair comparison might be the transformation that the character Smeagol (from the Lord of the Rings) undertakes as his mind is poisoned by the one ring and he slowly becomes Gollum.

Even more worrisome than the state of his body however was that of Brett's mind. What no one knew, not even the agency that originally placed him in foster care decades ago, was that Brett's biologial mother Bonnie was not only a drug addict but also a schizophrenic. Tragically for the young Brett, after lying dormant in his brain for all his life, his family curse awokened and the initial symptoms of madness began to descend upon him as he shut off completely from the outside world.

After the passage of some additional months, during which he saw no one and took no phone calls (not that he had any friends or family that would be calling him), Brett was now regularly hearing voices in his head and having imaginary conversations with the child porn actresses who appeared before him in his hallucinatory state. The kiddie porn sisters Julie and Jennifer Tanner would "appear", for instance, to share a snack of chocolate chip cookies in the dining room with him before he carried both girls upstairs to his bed and "made love" to them for hours.

Brett also fell into the habit of viewing non-porn preteens popular on the internet and on TV while the kiddie porn played on a separate screen on his monitor. By chance, one day he came across a video on youtube featuring an athletic young dancing girl named Summer Blackburn. He soon became hooked on the attractive blonde and viewed each and every one of her videos to the point of memorizing all her dance choreography. He loved everything about her - her smile, her energy, her enormous talent.

As his mind continued to worsen in the absence of any antipsychotic medication, it wasn't long before Summer Blackburn too appeared in his regular hallucinations. She called out to him, begging him to come visit her and expressing her longing to run away from her parents so that she could come live with Brett.

"You can live in my basement. It's really spacious!" informed Brett, while actually speaking into thin air.

Although his grip on reality was tragically fractured due to his condition, schizphrenia does not mean that the patient becomes mentally retarded. Brett still possessed the ability to hold a conversation with a real person should the need arise, and he still had all the knowledge he gained from his years in construction. He slipped in and out of madness on a daily basis. With all his cash on hand, he would soon begin a secret "basement renovation" project by himself that would take the next year to complete, and when it was finally finished the timing coincided with the real Summer Blackburn having just signed her contract to continue with her TV show.

Brett Donner's completed basement "guest house" was in actuality a combination of a zoo exhibit and human cage. He installed soundproofing on the walls so that no one outside could hear any noise coming from within the basement. The room was segregated by a floor-to-ceiling clear transparent wall (similar to Dr. Hannibal Lecter's prison cell barrier from 'Silence of the Lambs') that sectioned off 80% of the space as the "exhibit" and the remaining 20% which accessed the staircase. A single door, which locks from the 20% side, would keep a guest confined inside the larger space. Within this confined space was a thin bed mattress and a transparent bed pan to use as toilet. A narrow slot would open along a section of the wall into which food or other items can be passed through. But importantly, the room did not contain any objects that could be used as a weapon or as a means of escape. Several security cameras were installed on the upper four corners of its high 12 foot ceiling; high enough that no child or adult can jump high enough to disable them. These cameras, Brett would use, to look in on his guest at all times from outside the basement.

An extremely eventful year had just passed, and for the now 30 year old Brett Donner his masterpiece was finally complete. All that was missing was its resident. Brett stood admiring his greatest renovation work alongside the hallucination of Summer Blackburn who he imagined was standing nude next to him.

"Summer": So this is where I'm gonna be staying when I come over?

Brett: Yup. And I made sure to make the wall see-through so I can see you pretty face from this side all the time.

"Summer" Where am I supposed to go to the bathroom?

Brett: Inside that big pan over there. That's see-through too so I can see everything when you go potty.

"Summer": There's no blankets. What if I get cold?

Brett: You won't be. I'll make sure to keep it plenty warm down here. You won't even need to be wearing any clothes, ever.

"Summer": I don't see a tub or shower in there. Where can I wash myself?

Brett: You can shower upstairs in my room. But I'll need to handcuff you and have you on a leash when you do that. Don't worry, I'll wash your hair for you so you won't need your hands.

"Summer": So this is where I'm gonna live forever?

Brett: Yeah, and one of these days you and me are gonna make babies together.

"Summer": Sounds neat! But if we're gonna do that don't you have to come get me first?

And with that, his visual hallucination disappeared into a cloud of smoke.

Brett now had to move on to phase 2 of his master plan - physically acquiring the young Summer Blackburn.

To be Continued