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From: "Sam Lindsey" <sam_s_lindsey@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Chasing Lolita - The Aftermath and Epilogue
Date: Thu,  2 Aug 2001 16:10:03 -0400
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WARNING: The following story contains graphic depictions of sexual conduct 
with minors. If this offends you, or if it is illegal to possess such 
material in the jurisdiction you live, DO NOT continue any further, and 
please delete this message and any attachments off your computer. You have 
been warned! To all others, enjoy...

For further information on this series, be sure to read the message, 
'Chasing Lolita 00 - Read Me First'. Your comments posted to the newsgroup 
or sent to me by e-mail will be read and are much appreciated. I reply to 
all e-mails.


THE 'CHASING LOLITA' SERIES
by Sam 'The Sham' Lindsey
sam_s_lindsey@hotmail.com


THE AFTERMATH and EPILOGUE


THE AFTERMATH
-------------

I picked Nikki up after school on Friday, the same as usual. We drove back 
to my place, the same as usual. Nikki got all dolled up in her high-priced 
hooker gear that made her look more like twenty-two rather than her actual 
age of eleven, the same as usual. She gave me a scrumptious blowjob on our 
long drive out to the airport hotel where we worked, the same as usual. I 
came in her mouth like the crashing waters of the Red Sea after Moses had 
parted it, the same as usual.

Everything was about the same as usual. Nikki seemed to have forgiven me for 
sending her to work alone the previous Saturday evening while I kept her 
little 12-year-old friend Megan behind and pummeled every fresh hole in her 
virgin body. The only thing that seemed to be different was that I had had a 
bitch of a time lining up johns for tonight. What I'd wanted was for Nikki 
to do another three-on-one gang-bang like she did the previous week and then 
take our money and run so I could get her home in plenty of time to meet her 
9:00 p.m. curfew without risking life and limb on the freeway, but amazingly 
I couldn't even find three johns that were interested. I wasn't sure whether 
we were just hitting some bad timing with Nikki's customers or whether they 
had gotten spooked for some reason; they all seemed to be a little 
tight-lipped over the phone. I'd only managed to scare up two johns for the 
night, one for 6:00 and one for 7:00, and the 6:00 john was a new guy. He 
told me over the phone that he was a self-employed contractor from Toledo 
and that he had been referred to us by Hank, one of Nikki's regular johns 
who was a lawyer in Cleveland. He seemed okay over the phone but I arranged 
to meet him at 5:30 in the hotel bar anyway. I always met Nikki's johns 
personally before her first date with them as kind of a crude test to make 
sure she didn't pick up some communicable disease or be exposed to any rough 
stuff.

When Nikki and I arrived at the hotel bar around 5:30, the john was sitting 
there waiting for us. I had told him to wear a yellow puffed hanky in his 
right breast pocket so I'd be able to pick him out in the bar. While Nikki 
went to the ladies' room to freshen up, I sat down at his table to talk with 
him. He was really big and stocky, but other than that he seemed like an 
okay guy - just another regular Joe Blow.

When Nikki came out of the ladies' room I met her at our usual table up 
against the wall and told her that the guy seemed to be all right. Around 
5:50 she got up from the table and went to meet him in his room. He had 
already left several minutes earlier.

While I waited for Nikki to finish her trick, I ordered a Margarita from 
Dusty, the big-titted blonde barmaid who I'd poked the previous Friday 
night. I would have thought that she'd have been all over me tonight, but 
she seemed to be a little bit cool and distant. I put it off to guilt that 
she was probably feeling over fucking somebody else so soon after splitting 
up with her boyfriend. For all I knew, she and her boyfriend might have even 
gotten back together again since last week.

As my eyes surveyed the room, I noticed that there were a few strange male 
faces in the bar tonight, and a couple of the newbies seemed to be having 
some kind of ear problem as they kept poking their fingers in their ears. As 
the time approached 6:30, I figured that Nikki should be back down any 
minute.

Suddenly, without warning, guns started popping out all over the place and 
they were all pointed at me!

"DOWN ON YOUR STOMACH, NOW!!!" one of the new faces screamed at me as he 
waved his pistol around in my face. I immediately dropped to the floor and 
went down on my belly just as three large men came crashing down on top of 
me, two of them jerking my hands behind my back and handcuffing me while a 
third sat on my legs while he frisked me for weapons. They yanked me back up 
onto my feet and one of them said, "You're under arrest for pandering." As 
they dragged me outside to an unmarked police car, I was read my rights 
before the back door of the car opened and a big hand pushed down on the top 
of my head as I was thrown into the car face first. As I sat back up, the 
car started in motion and sped away.

Well, I had apparently been set up good. Hank, the little prick lawyer from 
Cleveland had apparently been nabbed on some kind of money laundering scheme 
and he had immediately started to sing about everyone and everything he knew 
in order to save his own scrawny butt. At the same time, Nikki's parents had 
started to become suspicious about the startling change they'd seen come 
over their little girl during the past few months and they'd hired a PI to 
follow her around. While the private dick had figured out quite early what 
we were up to, he hadn't been able to obtain any hard evidence until last 
Saturday afternoon when Nikki and I had our hot foursome with her little 
friend, Megan, and Tim, the young hotel busboy. The PI had managed to take 
photographs of me fucking both Nikki and Megan and had taken them directly 
to Nikki's parents. Nikki's parents were so shocked and upset that they 
immediately went to the police. The cops put two and two together and 
somehow came up with the fact that Nikki and I were the same two who were 
working the airport hotel - the same pimp and prostitute that Hank had 
ratted out.

Once I was in custody, the charges began to mount: pandering, contributing 
to the delinquency of a minor, possession of cocaine, numerous counts of 
fraud for the phony invoicing scheme I'd developed, and two counts of 
statutory rape. After the cops conducted a search of my home and found a 
mountain of dope, they wanted to charge me with possession of cocaine with 
intent to traffic. But my attorney managed to convince the District 
Attorney's office that it was all for my own personal use (I guess I'd been 
a little out of control lately) and they reduced the charge down to simple 
possession. As for the two statutory rape charges, I figured it could have 
been worse. Apparently they could have charged me for each separate time I'd 
had sex with Nikki, but luckily Nikki wasn't talking. Also, they hadn't 
cottoned onto the fact that I had boffed my little 13-year-old neighbor, 
Kimmy, as well. As I said, it could have been worse - much worse!

My attorney told me that I was looking at about a hundred years if they went 
to the max on everything, and I wanted to just curl up and die. My attorney 
was a bit of a weasel but he had a reputation for having a good rapport with 
the DA's office in terms of cooking up deals and pleading things out. 
"Bargain Bob" they called him. I knew there was no point in going to trial 
because they had me dead to rights on everything. So eventually, after doing 
about six months of dead time, I managed to get everything boiled down to 
just twelve years. But, hey, I'm eligible for full parole in a little under 
ten and I'll only be fifty years old. Not too bad, everything considered.

While I was in jail waiting for my lawyer to strike a plea bargain, I 
received a visit from Nikki. Although I was under a court order to have no 
contact with either of my "victims", Nikki had dressed herself up in some 
very mature-looking clothes and had put on her big-girl make-up. She looked 
like she was at least twenty-five when she came to visit me and the jail was 
on the lookout for little 11 and 12-year-old girls.

As Nikki began to talk to me over the phone in the visiting room, she looked 
at me through the thick plexiglass with a tortured expression on her face 
and began to cry. "It'll be okay, baby," I lied to her as I put my finger up 
to the thick glass to touch hers. I found out that her six o'clock john had 
actually been a cop and that he had busted her up in the hotel room, but not 
before he had stuck his big dick in every orifice of her body. "That fucking 
pig!" I seethed in anger and disgust. "Did you tell anybody?" I asked Nikki.

She shook her head 'no'. "He wore a condom," she said, "so I couldn't prove 
anything anyway. It would have just been my word against his." She began to 
sob again and she looked so sad that I wanted to take her in my arms and 
hold her.

Apparently Nikki had received speedy justice from the juvenile court system. 
She got a year's probation and had a curfew imposed. She was also prohibited 
from being in any bar until she was twenty-one and was strictly prohibited 
from being anywhere in the airport hotel where she had turned her tricks. 
She was also forbidden to see me.

"You'd better get going," I said to her. "I wouldn't want you to get caught 
here."

As Nikki turned to leave, she looked at me with tear-filled eyes and 
silently said, "I love you, Sam," through the three-inch glass.

"I love you too, kid," I mouthed at her back as she walked out the door of 
the visiting room.

Well, to make a long story short, my attorney finally managed to strike a 
plea bargain with the DA's office. I sat through the sentencing hearing and 
listened while one of the prosecutors described me to the judge in terms 
such as "emotionally immature" and "morally bereft" and "serial pedophile." 
The judge however agreed to my twelve-year plea bargain.

The court also took possession of all of my assets including my house, my 
car, my bank accounts and all of my toys. When I asked my attorney how they 
could do that, he tried to explain to me about the 'proceeds of crime' 
legislation that had just been passed in the state where I lived. It was 
called 'reverse onus' legislation which meant that I had to be able to prove 
that the assets seized hadn't been purchased from the money I'd made 
pandering. It was a little hard to do while I was locked up behind bars, and 
eventually I just gave up.

I was ultimately shipped out to one of the state penitentiaries to do my 
time. My attorney had tried to convince the judge to recommend that I be 
incarcerated in a minimum security prison but the judge was only willing to 
go medium security, and only then because I hadn't been charged with any 
crimes of violence.

The first day I arrived at the pen I met my cellmate, Bubba. Yes, you heard 
me right, Bubba - no shit, eh? Bubba was a great big 6'6" redneck from down 
south somewhere. I didn't know what he was in for and I didn't really want 
to ask.

"What's your name?" Bubba asked me that first day as we were lying in our 
cells on our respective cots.

"Sam," I replied tersely, hoping to avoid any lengthy conversations with 
this big gorilla.

"Sam... hey, just like that 'Wooly Bully' guy," Bubba said as he perked up 
on his cot. "What was his name?"

"Sam the Sham," I replied, "... and the Pharaohs."

"Yeah... that's right... Sam the Sham," Bubba mused as he laid his head back 
down on the cot. "I think that's what I'm going to call you from now on - 
Sam the Sham. Do you like that nickname?"

"Not really," I replied honestly.

Big Bubba's face started to turn a little red when he heard my response and 
he sat up on his cot and glared at me. "No?" he said. "When then maybe I'll 
call you 'Sweet Cheeks' instead... "

"Sam the Sham is fine," I interjected diplomatically, hoping to calm down 
this giant before he blew a gasket.

Bubba rested his head back down on his cot again and stared at the ceiling 
as he rolled the words around in his mouth. "Sam... Sammy... Sam-u-el... Sam 
the Sham... Sa-man-tha..." Suddenly he threw something small in the air 
towards me and said, "Here Sa-man-tha, put a little of this on."

I caught the flying object in the palm of my hand and looked at it. It was a 
tube of lipstick!

________________________________________________________________________________


EPILOGUE

Well, I've learned a few things since I've been in the joint. I learned 
early on that if the subject of my crimes ever came up, it was okay to 
mention the pandering and possession and fraud charges, but the statutory 
rapes were a no-no. That error in judgment cost me one good beating.

I have to attend classes designed for sexual predators like myself to learn 
how to control my impulses towards young girls so that I don't repeat offend 
after I get out of here in ten years.

And, oh yeah... I've also learned how to giant cocks up my ass. I have a 
much better appreciation now for all of the girls I'd anally penetrated over 
the years.

I heard through the grapevine that Nikki had settled back down and returned 
to being an A student again. The cops never did find her bank accounts and 
the courts decided not to touch her college fund, so monetarily she was set 
for quite a while.

I guess Megan found out she was pregnant shortly after our Saturday 
afternoon orgy. I don't know whether the baby is mine or Tim's or maybe even 
her boyfriend, Jeff's. I haven't been asked to provide a DNA sample and it 
wouldn't matter anyway; I am completely destitute and unable to pay child 
support while I remain in prison.

My ex-girlfriend's daughter, Laurie, had moved in with her big black stud, 
Junior, while they continued to attend college. I'd heard that Junior shared 
her around with the other three black friends of his that they lived with 
and that she had basically become some kind of black cock gang-bang slut.

As for Laurie's friend Janie, I never heard any more about her although I'm 
sure she's out there somewhere taking big cocks in her pussy and her ass and 
her mouth and up between her two massive hooters.

And Kimmy... my sweet little Kimmy... she's been sending me letters lately 
professing her undying love for me and telling me that she's counting the 
days until I get out and we can be together again. She doesn't sign the 
letters or put a return address on them, but I know they're from her. I 
haven't replied to one of them. Hopefully she'll forget about me in time.

It's taken me quite a while to accept the fact that what I did amounted to 
criminal behavior. After all, I had never actually raped anyone and all the 
young girls I'd fucked had been willing participants. I do have to admit 
that, occasionally when I daydream, my thoughts will stray back in time to 
one of the hot episodes of sex I'd participated in during that one fateful 
year.

You're probably wondering whether, in retrospect, I think it was all worth 
it. Well, let's see... how shall I put it? I live in a cage with a 6'6" 
redneck gorilla named Bubba who makes me wear lipstick while I suck his cock 
and likes to jam his eleven-inch pecker up my ass. What do you think?

But like the last line in Jimmy Buffet's song, 'He Went To Paris':

Some of it's magic
And some of it's tragic
But I had a good time all the way.

And like Buffet's old man in the song, I've started writing my memoirs. My 
attorney has been trying to sell them to several publishers and he thinks he 
may have one interested. Apparently the state is trying to pass a bill that 
would forbid criminals from profiting in any way from their crimes, so I'm 
under some pressure now to complete them. The working title is 'Descent Into 
Depravity: A Pimp's Story'. My attorney came up with that one, bless his 
little heart. But lately I've been thinking about changing it. How do you 
think 'Chasing Lolita' sounds?

THE END

Thanks for reading 'Chasing Lolita,' and remember: it was all a sham.

Sincerely,
Sam

_________________________________________________________________
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-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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