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Message-ID: <52658asstr$1135167002@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "anthony trollop" <threehorsemen@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Queen Sacrifice
Lines: 874
Date: Wed, 21 Dec 2005 07:10:02 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


For your erotic consideration.

_________________________________________________________________
On the road to retirement? Check out MSN Life Events for advice on how to 
get there! http://lifeevents.msn.com/category.aspx?cid=Retirement

<1st attachment, "Queen Scarifice.doc" begin>

If you don't know this is a fictional web site then you are
either too young or too dumb to read any further.

I want to thank all those who helped me with the story,
especially my mum.  Thanks mum without your input it wouldn't
have been nearly as filthy.



Queen Sacrifice 

Toot Green looked carefully both ways before stepping off the
curb.  Having to use a walker, there wasn't going to be any
'hopping' out of the way of fast moving cars.  His 'hopping' days
were over.

If those bastards down at welfare would get off their asses, but,
it didn't make any difference he was here now and could at least
talk to the bloke.  Maybe it would be alright, maybe it wasn't a
completely shit idea like every other one he'd ever had in his
life.   

He thought of Morgana then, the look on her face when he had
first suggested it.   But he pushed the thought away.  Maybe when
he started talking to the guy, you know, he'd be a complete shit
and Toot could just walk away.  In his heart Toot half hoped that
would be the case.   

Two stone stairs up, a bit of a negotiation with a walker, and
then pushing open the door he entered the Stars and Plow.  Oh,
how he and his mates used to fly up stairs and burst into pubs
with a shout.  They knew how to down the pints along with lots of
loud ragging on each other and bragging about this and that. 
Blow with appreciation after tipping a glass of Guinn he used to.
 He got the name "Toot" that way, his best mate, Rod, said he
sounded like a bloody tug on the bloody fucking river Afton.  

Six short months ago it was.  Then the weakness began and no
bloody doctor could say why or knew what to do.  Just his legs
everything else was fine for God's sake, but now, anymore, he
couldn't go three feet without a bloody walker.   

Then three months into it, his wife, Sadie, showed herself and
just took off, just like that.  Not a how-do-you-do or goodbye,
just gone, leaving him with Morgana and some pennies from the
welfare, thank you very much ma'am.  Well, what could you expect,
she always was partial to strong, high stepping men.  The funny
part was that, though, his legs were gone his cock was as strong
as ever, shit it seemed to be hard all the time now.  Sadie was
the one for hard pounding with a cock to be sure but she also
wanted dancing and a fat pay check at the end of a week.  Well,
paychecks and the dancing floor were over.

It was dark inside the 'Plow', close with the smell of stale beer
and cigarettes.  But there was the lad, Toot spotted him
immediately.  Sleek and dressed like a lord, he was, bleed'n
driving gloves on the table next to his glass.  Like a sore thumb
he stood out, didn't he know anything about being discrete? 
Toot, pushed aggressively forward intending to have some sharp
words with the old boy, but the walker reminded him as nothing
else could that he was the beggar here and the fat cat he was
rolling up to was the chooser.   Toot was here in fact because he
feared that if he didn't do something soon the next "present"
from the welfare would be the announcement that they'd be taking
Morgana from him.  Simple enough, that would kill him.  

As Toot pushed up to the table the man rose and offering a hand
said, "May I help you?"

"Leave off I can manage me self," Toot threw back, hating to have
people treat him like a cripple especially this man because now
he would have guessed everything.  He would know it would take a
lot for Toot to just bugger off.  Too much, way too much time had
gone into the meeting this afternoon.  Hours in the chat rooms. 
The mutual feelers.  The hints and finally a meeting suggested by
Toot.  Now here they were. 

"Sorry, I understand" said the man Toot knew from the internet as
RonaldMac.

"I doubt it," Toot shot back.

Ronald bristled, gathered up his gloves and half rising from his
chair rasped, "Look, cut the 'tragic' bit.  Do you want to
fucking talk or not?"

Toot fell in on himself, seemed to get physically smaller in his
chair.  "How," he wondered to himself, could you have completely
fucked everything up already; what a stupid fucking fucker."  

To Ronald he said in a defeated voice, "Yes, sorry, sorry."  The
last word trailed off as Toot stared down at his big hands, still
horny and callused from his working years.  

Putting a lighter air into his voice, the other man said, "Forget
it, I know how it... Fuck... sorry.  A drink?  A pint of Guinness
will put things right.  What?"

Without waiting Ronald signaled the barkeep and shouted, "Two
more here please."

After the drinks were down, both men took long drafts and then
sat looking at each other wondering which one should start.  It
was Ronald.

"Look, let's keep this as simple as possible. During this," he
hesitated looking for the word, "thing."   I'll remain Ronald and
you stay FL.  What was it Flying Low, right?  Ok.  Just like the
chat, Ok. Is that Ok with you?"

Ronald, was trying to be nice.  Toot sensed that he was nervous
and running off at the mouth.  "Sure, that's fine," Toot replied.
 

"Ok, that's good."  Lowering his voice Ronald continued, "I'm a
little bloody nervous about this you know?"

Toot half smiled back, they both had a lot to be nervous about. 


"Ok, so your... her name is Jane then is it?" stumbled Ronald.

Seeing Ronald's nervousness made Toot feel a whole lot better and
he tried to reassert himself, sallying with, "How do I know
you're not a copper?"

But Ronald leaned across the table and growled, "Well how in the
fucking hell do I know your not, for Christ's sake?  We've been
over this a hundred times on the net.  Use your head man, talking
isn't illegal.  For Christ's sake we're not even proposing
'doing' anything actually illegal what ever her age."

After a pause while Toot realized he had been put back in his
place he said in a conciliatory voice, "Yes, her name is Jane,
for all of this anyway,"  

"And she's what, thirteen, you said right."

"Yes."

Ronald was exasperated pulling every word out of him like this, a
gimp, selling his daughter but things were starting to flow a
little bit and he thought it could be worth it.  "And you brought
the pictures?"

"Yes," replied Toot who pulled a greasy brown envelope out of his
pocket and laid it on the table as if he had produced a golden
tablet.

"Shit!" thought Ronald, his heart virtually stopping in his
chest, "the packet laying there, the way it had been slipped out
of a side pocket fairly shouted, 'criminal exchange'."  There
were only three other people in the pub but Ronald knew they were
all focused on him.  Glancing up he saw that no one was paying a
bit of mind to the two men all the way in the back corner.  Only
the brown liquid and the rim of their glasses held any interest
for these men.  

Ronald dragged the envelope to him his hands trembling slightly.
The feel of the worn brown paper, the weight of the pictures
inside waiting for him, produced a tingle in his cock and he
could feel a slight sheen of sweat break on his forehead.  No
pictures had been exchanged on the internet, both had agreed it
was too risky.

Now he fumbled the flap up and they spilled out, in color, eight
or ten of them.  She was dark haired and darling, he would see
that immediately.  

Toot watching the look on Ronald's face felt like the lowest turd
in Shit's River. 

(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((-)))))))))))))))))))))
)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

They were on the upper deck of the bus, her favorite place to
ride.  She could almost imagine that they were going for a little
whirl for the fun of it, seeing the city and all that.  But
Morgana could only fool herself for a few seconds before
remembering that she and her dad were not on the bus for fun but
to go to a man's house for picture taking. 

They, she and her dad, had talked about it before he got on the
internet, before he started looking for chat rooms.  She would
pose for pictures without her clothes on, for money.  A lot of
money.  

When her dad had first brought the idea up she had been shocked,
well not drop-dead, plant flowers on me shocked, but still you
know.  It was after all like being a model and she had seen
hundreds of magazines with pictures of girls in their under wear.
 She knew about stuff like that.  And a lot more of the pictures
she'd seen had models without any clothes at all.  Smiling, the
models didn't look like they were exactly dying inside or
anything and they were probably being paid a lot of money to do
it.  

And Morgana knew she was cute, well maybe more, probably the
cutest girl in school unless you just had to have a blond in
which case Melissa Klith would be first choice.  Morgana had
thought about modeling when she grew up.  What pretty young girl
hasn't; you know all the money and exotic travel, hunks at your
feet all the time.  

Morgana had even seen some of the 'young model' sites with girls
as young as her and younger on the internet.  There were plenty
of sexy shots, lots of panties showing and like that but the
modeling she was going to do was nude and her father had made
sure she understood that the man wanted to take pictures of her
absolutely starkers.  

Though very mature and level headed for her thirteen years, she
wasn't an experienced model, and in discussing it with her dad
she knew she'd have to, like, let the guy see like everything she
had.  She blushed at the thought and unconsciously moved closer
to her dad on the seat next to her.  He seemed to have read her
thoughts for he put a protective arm over her shoulder.  Morgana
felt better.  

Her dad.  She could never, like ever, let him down.  She loved
him so much.  He was the greatest dad in the world and her mother
was a perfect shit.  She never felt that her mum treated her dad
really right and she was glad in a way when her mother left for
good. But, oh, it hurt her dad so deeply.  So when he, shame
faced, showed her the check he got every week from the welfare
and told her there might be a way that they could make some extra
money she had already decided she would do it no matter what it
was.  

Truth be known though her mouth dropped when her dad had finally
mumbled out his plan.  But when he finally had the nerve to look
up she flashed a smile, a little crooked maybe but so many
emotions were swirling around inside both, that neither noticed
as Morgana croaked, "Well, sure dad and if you'll be there like
the whole time it will be right.  I always wanted to be a model
you know."  Her father looked relieved and miserable at the same
time.  Morgana decided she'd do anything to bring a smile back to
his face.

Their scheme was both scary and exciting to the girl but she was
determined to hold up her part. After all her name was Morgana
Boudicca Green.  Morgana, half sister and magical helper to King
Arthur and Queen Boudicca who came within a nit of defeating the
Romans.  Strong, powerful, commanding women who didn't let
anything stand in the way of what they knew needed to be done. 
It was the way she had always wanted to be when she grew up, the
way she'd have to be today.  After all she was thirteen now, not
a child anymore.  Things were expected of her, her poor father
was depending on her.    Grappling with it, her young mind
decided she should consider it an adventure of sorts.  She was
shaken out of her reverie when her father started to speak,
stopped, cleared his throat and then choked out, "Well, this is
it.  This is our stop then I guess."

"Yeah, this is it," she thought as she got up and started for the
stairs in the back.  She could feel some soft warm air wafting up
her short skirt, licking over the soft fine hairs on her legs
until it reached her panties.  Special, white cotton panties, as
ordered.   

(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((-)))))))))))))))))))
)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Ronald, paced the room, looked at his watch; almost time.  He had
gotten a room in a moderately priced motor motel of sorts, far
from any trendy portions of town.  He didn't want to be seen by
anyone he knew.  

He sat down, got up, didn't know what to do with his hands,
looked at his watch.  He picked up his camera, one of the new
digi's, a little better than 6000 pounds worth, but he couldn't
seem to get his nervous fingers to find the switch to turn it on.
 

"Get a hold of yourself you bloody fool," he snarled at himself.

But he couldn't, he knew, that cameras and pictures were just an
excuse to see little Jane nude.  Not exactly against the law even
in at this benighted time but of course Ronald wanted more, he
wanted, at his leisure, to take pictures of every inch of her
pussy and ass.  And pictures like that, sessions like that were
against the law or close enough that his life and career would be
over if, if, mind you, he didn't actually end up in jail.  

He jumped up and strode over to the sink.  Poured himself some
water but without drinking, put the glass down and paced some
more; checking the time.  

FL had been a perfect asshole about where to meet but that was to
be expected of his sort.  He had gotten it into his head that the
only way he could be sure Ronald wasn't a copper was to do the
session at Ronald's own house.  It was bloody hell to make the
man understand that nothing, not the smallest thing, goes on in a
house without the servants, every bloody one of them, knowing
every detail.  So finally they had agreed on double the price,
250 pounds for two hours.  Cranky for that amount he could have
flown to Thailand and not just taken pictures but shagged a dozen
young girls.  But not like Jane, even her pics were remarkable. 
Whippet thin, she was, with long chestnut hair down to her arse,
porcelain skin but mostly it was her eyes. He didn't know how to
articulate it, huge, steel-blue, they possessed an reckless,
almost dangerous intensity.  Riveting really.   But her youth and
beauty were saved by a generous mouth, fully ripe, with a warm
inviting smile showing in every picture.  Oh, yes, he was looking
forward to meeting this young lady for more than one reason,
knowing Father Christmas didn't hang girls like that on many
Christmas trees.  

He sat down and checked his watch, shit, they were late.  Then he
heard a rasping scrape coming toward his room.  He held his
breath and the sound stopped at his door followed by a knock.  He
thought his heart just might tumble over his tongue, fall to the
floor and roll under the bed.  

Somehow he made it to the door and with only the slightest fumble
unlocked and opened it.  Her dad was there with his walker but
Ronald didn't see him.  He saw her.  She was magnificent, breath
taking.  Somebody doing a bad impersonation of his voice said,
"Come in."

((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((-))))))))))))))))))))
))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

The door in front of them was flung open so abruptly that it
caused Morgana  a start, then she saw a man about 40 or so,
anyway, older than her dad.  He was in good shape with funny
curly, ginger hair and eyes that seemed to be popping right out
of his head.  He was looking at her so intently that it seemed as
if he would jump on her and eat her up... or faint.  Fainting
seemed the better guess because he didn't appear to be breathing
and Morgana almost laughed when she imagined herself blowing on
his chest, certain that he would just topple over backwards.  She
relaxed somewhat, this bloke didn't look the dangerous type at
all.  She began to feel alright and that she could handle
everything that needed to be done.

Nothing could set the harpoon in Ronald's erotic heart of hearts
more deeply than a pretty pair of legs and hers were more perfect
than any he had ever seen, short skirt showing them all the way
up.  Ronald knew he was playing the fool but he was mesmerized. 
When he could finally drag his eyes up it just got better and
better, her hair, her skin, her eyes.  Her eyes, not shy in the
least, she looked directly at him, smiling, seemingly on the
verge of laughter.  A sound he longed to hear. 

Somehow they all managed get inside with the door shut and sat
down at the tiny table near the kitchenette. 

"So, Ok, then," Ronald choked out, wanting to start things off as
quickly as possible.  There was no response.   Morgana didn't
know what to say and Toot was digging deeper and deeper into
ideas about chucking the thing and leaving but he was pinned to
his chair like a bug on specimen card by the money.  

"The money!  That, fuck'n, fuck'n money!"  He lashed himself with
the thought.  

Ronald could hardly stop looking at Morgana her eyes were
spellbinding, he felt deprived whenever she looked away.  With
very little social training he thought she could be regal and
actually presented at court a fair, Fair Lady indeed.  He hadn't
noticed Toot's self absorbed flagellation and tried again. 
"Well, then... Ah, so it will be two hours of pictures for 250
pounds then, right?  

Ah, and some will be nude."  If anyone balked at this point
Ronald thought his chest would bloody well seize up with the
disappointment.

Toot, glanced up looking at him, sullenly, through his eyebrows
and replied, "If she still wants to."  

He glanced at his daughter and asked, "Morgana?"

Instantly he realized his mistake and felt like the dumbest sod
on the planet.  Almost in tears he wondered if the best thing
wouldn't just be to throw himself in the river and let Morgana
get on with her own life without him.  

Morgana, perceptive beyond her years and seeing the funk Toot had
cast himself into reached across the table and put her hands on
his, "Of course dad.  It will be right.  Don't worry, everything
will be allll right."  At her touch Toot formed a crooked mouth
that might be a smile.

"Well, Ok, then," Ronald sounded relieved, "can we perhaps begin.
 I mean if everyone is ready."  

Two pairs of eyes turned to Toot who mumbled an unhappy, "Yes,
Ok, go ahead then."  
At his response Morgana found she had been holding her breath.
Two hundred and fifty pounds was a lot of money; a lot of money!

"Well, great," Ronald actually clapped his hands with delight,
pressed an envelope across the table to Toot and ran to get his
camera.  Morgana produced a hand mirror and was fixing her hair
as if her hair might really matter to Ronald.  Toot  was
forgotten.  He picked up the envelope, heartened by its weight
and squeaked over to the darkest corner and sat down to watch; to
make sure everything was done exactly as agreed.

Ready, Morgana turned to Ronald, who, fiddling with his camera
said, "Alright then, I'm not terribly good at this I'm afraid but
let's give it a go.  Why don't you stand over by the curtains and
put your hand on your hip Morgana."

Morgana complied and unloading one hip struck her first pose;
school girlish, while slightly provocative.  But it was good a
start, she was born to pose, to be looked at, adored.  Flashes
and clicks followed.  Ronald was ecstatic and he heaped praise on
the slender beauty, who, playing off the appreciation, gained
confidence and was soon throwing her own poses at the camera. 
Still very modest poses to be sure but even a blind man could
have seen that they were both having fun with it.  But always
there was the tension in the air about what this was eventually
going to lead to.  Ronald would be seeing her little cooter and
taking pictures of it too.  Each time she thought of it Morgana's
breath quickened and her private parts twisted and leaked the
stinky cream into her panties.   They'd be a right mess soon. 
She hoped no one would notice when it was time to take them
down.

"Darl'n, why don't you lay down on the bed now," suggested
Ronald. 

"How in the Goddamned, Hell, did she get to be his "Darl'n","
hissed Toot to himself.  He knew he should have been happy that
Morgana and Ronald were getting on so well.  It would make the
whole thing so much easier for her but instead he hated it.  

Morgana playfully bounced onto the bed with a giggle. "Shoes on
or off?" she asked.

"Off, darl'n.  Now lay on your back and pull your knees up.  All
the way now.  That's my super model."  She had sexy little feet
he noticed. Her insteps were high enough to have half of China on
its knees with plump little toes, all wiggly and begging for
attention just as he like them.

As her knees came up the girl's legs were unveiled, slender,
perfect female stems, and then the fullness of her white panty
"V" made its appearance, arrowing up and disappearing between her
legs.  They were white, cotton, just as Ronald had requested and
they had a wet spot.  When Ronald saw it he thought his legs
would go weak but he brought his camera up and got a shot.  He
moved in, extended his zoom and filled the lens with white panty
and vaginal discharge.  He thought he could actually smell her. 
It made his head spin.

Continuing to record her sexual discharge he became bolder,
"Beautiful my darling princess. Perfect.  Now open your legs. 
That's it spread them all the way out.  Good, as far as you can
now my young beauty." 

Morgana knew what she was revealing and turned red as a top
branch apple.  Even Toot all the way across the room could see
that her panties were sopping,   He wanted to explain to Ronald
that her mum had been a virtual water-main in that area and
that's probably all it was but didn't open his mouth.  He was
afraid to; he was as tense as a piano wire and it was all
concentrated in his prick.  He was deeply ashamed that the dirty
bastard had gotten as hard as a shillelagh and almost as long. 

Ronald had Morgana raise her legs straight up and scissor them
open, pointing her adorable toes, as he moved in with his flash
and lens.  Then following instructions, she pull up on the waist
band of her panties until the crotch was a mere band of white
disappearing completely between the very full, lightly downed
lips of her pussy.  

Next, over onto her knees and elbows, legs well spread.  This
accentuated the bodacious globes of her perfect ass; panties
still pulled so tightly into the crack that Ronald could see the
deepening coloration leading to her asshole.  

Ronald was like a hound with his first scent of fox; she, the
girl, thirteen, Morgana, was all he could see, hear or smell.  He
had her up then, dress and panties off.  Naked before a stranger
for the first time modesty over took and she made the universal
female gesture of covering her breast buds and almost smooth
venereal region with her hands, one knee coyly pointed inward. 
Camera down for a moment, Ronald took a deep breath and an
equally deep look; September Morn right before his eyes

The poses were more revealing now, and then Ronald reached out
and helped position one of the girl's slender legs.  Morgana
wasn't surprised, he had been hovering closer and closer as the
session went on and she also anticipated Toot's voice from the
corner.

"I said no... "

Morgana, petrified that Toot would somehow turn the whole thing
into an argument or a fight that he couldn't possibly win and
throw 250 pounds away cut his sentence off with a more sharper
voice than either of them realized she possessed, "Dad!" 

"It's alright.  Leave it now. It's alright!  I know what I'm
doing. I can make this right!"  Toot, unexpectedly put in his
place so forcefully by his own daughter closed his mouth. 

Perceiving a new willingness from the girl, Ronald's hands were
all over her now, "helping" with poses.  They were gentle hands,
almost childlike in their fumbling and the girl found she didn't
mind too very much.  Whenever she had her back to Toot's corner
Ronald would squeeze the small swells of her breasts and lightly
pinch the eager eraser sized nipples.  Each time a nippet was
gently pulled or pinched the girl drew a hissing, appreciative
intake of breath accompanied by even more 'gushing' between her
legs.  It was an intoxicating game of anticipation and tease for
both.   

More, it became clear that she could have 'Ronald' panting at her
feet.  Oddly, he seemed captivated by her feet of all things! It
all caused her a slight delirium but another part of her brain
focused, and thirteen though she might be, Morgana was becoming
more and more aware that she could make the whole session go
anyway she pleased. The realization gave her a thrill,
recognizing the naked power she could have over men.  Savoring it
as if it were a new flavor of ice cream, she liked the taste.

She found herself on her back, at the very edge of the bed, legs
spread as wide as possible.  Ronald was kneeling just in front of
her aching sex.  The camera was gone and lost someplace.   She
could feel his breath on her and it made her little cooch throb
and flood with cream; aromatic and thick, her smooth generous
cunt lips glistened with it and even the tops of her thighs; so
copious the flow that some ran down to disappear into the crack
of her tight little ass, even further to wet the bed cover.  

Sensing no resistance on her part, Ronald spread, with almost
religious reverence, her creaming pussy lips so he could gaze on
her most private and secret places.  Her schoolgirl cunt
'clicked' open revealing creamy tendrils and a pink of the most
fragile hue, the baton of her impatient clit reaching out to him,
her tiny piss hole evoked fetish ideas that shocked him even as
they raged through his head.  And finally her little girl pussy
hole, making empty puckers.  The whole with its own delicate
breath of musk, capturing him as certainly as a steel mesh net. 


Not a sound emanated from a certain corner except a strangled and
over dramatic breath or two; Toot's almost silent recognition
that he wasn't in charge of anything anymore.

((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((-))))))))))))))))
))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Coochie cream was pouring out of her so profusely that he
couldn't swallow it fast enough.  He had never experienced a
woman as hot as this.  His face shinning with her discharge,
Ronald couldn't get enough.

Mewing like a hungry kitten, Morgana's head was whipping from
side to side with the unbelievable ecstasy of it all.  She
couldn't believe how good it felt to have Ronald's mouth on her
little puss puss.  Without thinking she reached down, and taking
two hands full of his ginger hair, tried to pull his face right
up inside her.  

It kept getting better.  Almost fainting with delight she
continued to grind her sweet, mushy little cunt against Ronald's
face in a most un-lady like way until huffing and bleating, an
orgasm roared through her body like an express train through a
tunnel.  

When she 'came back' she noted that they were both drenched in
sweat and that while she felt completely content Ronald looked
more frantic than ever.  She stretched like a cat in the sun and
thought, "So, that's what a man's mouth felt like. Wow, wow, wow,
wow, wow and wow!!!!"

(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((-)))))))))))))))))))
))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

 It was significant that when Ronald spoke next, he addressed
only Morgana.  Still on his knees, he said, "I want you, I want
to make love to you properly.  You're the most beautiful,
wondrous girl in the world.  I've got two thousand pounds in my
jacket.  It's yours if you will be mine this afternoon."

The surprising thing is that the girl wasn't surprised.  Once it
had moved to the point where Ronald was actually touching her she
had subconsciously foreseen, even before he had, that he would
end up asking this question and early on she knew the answer she
would give.

Still awash in post orgasmic bliss, Morgana, in a spontaneous
gesture of acceptance placed one of her feet on his chest and
began to explore his shirt and chest with her toes. Ronald seized
her tiny foot, kissed her high instep, licked and sucked her
dainty toes.  It was so unexpectedly sensual, even sexy, for him
to do that that Morgan giggled with delight.  She brought her
other foot up and caressed his cheek.  Ronald was delirious with
pleasure and began to kiss and lick at both her feet as the girl
explored his face and hair.  It was fun and Morgan gently
dictated the pace by pushing the toes of one foot into his
welcoming mouth and wiggling tiny toes, begged for more. 
Delighted to accommodate, Ronald lavished oral pleasure onto one
of the prettiest peds he had ever seen as the pair looked into
each other's eyes elated to find this mutual pleasure.  

Would that this could have gone on forever but Ronald's cock was
squealing for attention like a hungry pig snout pressed between
fence slats.  Momentarily releasing her foot, and between kisses,
he gasped out his request again for sexual access to her body. 
He needed to fuck and if the price had been 20,000 pounds at this
point, he would have paid it without a thought. 

The girl's eyes opened dreamily, smiling, she bobbed her head
twice, maybe it was three times and said, "Alright, Ok."  

"And don't worry," he said, "you don't have to do anything and
I'm as clean as a bloody bishop."

She knew that she didn't need to ask for the money before hand. 
It was hers, before, during or after; whatever she asked for was
hers.  No one else in the room said a word about the new
agreement. 

((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((-))))))))))))))))))
)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Morgana wondered if she was capable of anymore pleasure but some
expert tongue work in her carnal cleft by Mr. R and she found
herself writhing on the bed, insides all twisty, and creamy
again.  When she started to forcefully rub her steamy little
crotch all over his face Ronald knew it was time to get
undressed.  The girl had to admit that she had never seen anyone
get out of their clothes so fast before.

His 'thing' stood straight up, red tipped, veined, knarly
looking, kind of dangerous, kind of exciting and kind of 'big'!!
Some rapid computations about size went through her head but when
he 'covered' her and began to rub the blunt head of his prick up
and down her drenched and sensitive crack she quickly found
herself pushing and rubbing back.  

The heat returned to her, concentrating in her crotch and she
locked her arms over his shoulders so she could move against his
cock more feely.  She was expecting pain but with a barely
discernable 'ping' he had popped her cherry and lodged the head
of his considerable cock into the first inch of her slickly wet
little cunt.

"It was hard to believe," thought Morgana, "that anything that
big could go into her little tiny hole."   But Ronald had a great
deal more in mind than an inch and was rocking his hips gently,
softly whispering that she was a wonder girl.  While he nibbled
her ears and licked her neck, they both felt her slowly opening
to his insistence.  As he pushed into the slick channel of this
young girl he thought he'd loose it.  She was so tight that it
was almost painful and he marveled at the courage of the
youngster to take it with no complaint.  

After a short time she felt the steel wool of his pubic hair
scouring her crotch, then he stopped.  Feeling the odd little
sack with balls against her ass she might have giggled except she
felt so stretched that it didn't seem as if she even had room to
take a deep breath.  

"How you're doing princess?  Are you alright? You are without a
doubt the most incredible young woman I've ever met; I could just
eat you up. I'm going to start to fuck you now but I'll be very,
very careful."

She could only reply, "Uh-huh, Ok," most of her concentration
riveted on her stretched out vagina. 

He began to move slowly in and out.  

He thought every inch of movement was beyond anything imagination
could have conjured.

The rubbing and stretching inside, in such deep places seemed to
steal the young girl's breath away.  Helpless, whimpering sounds,
drooled from her lips. 

The tempo increased, breathing turned to panting and then to
gasps.  Sweat poured off his nose, his chin, his chest and
stomach, falling, mixing with hers.  The sound of their rutting
spanked the walls of the room and the smell plumped the air as
thickly as a suet pudding.  And still they continued.  She lifted
her knees to take him deeper.  Like a tiny fist his cock head
battered her immature cervix churning her insides into a delirium
of pleasure.  

He began to increase the pace.  She answered her pummeling with
incoherent grunts of increasing tempo.   He waited for her to
call "hold, enough," but the words never came.  She had agreed to
ride this horse to the end and the steel will at her core
dictated that she would. 

They fucked each other.  They 'became' cock and cunt, crazed with
sensations.  Suddenly, like an umbrella popping open, Morgana was
hit with an orgasm.  It was even more incredible with Ronald's
cock deep inside of her and she bore down hard to hold on to the
feeling as long as possible.  His prostrate already feeling as
big as an apple immediately started to spurt like a geyser.  He
thrust as far up into her belly as possible, coming like a
skyrocket, filling her with hot potent cum; all of his life's
force seemed to be ejaculated in that moment into the deep, tight
little hole of a thirteen year old girl. 

Afterwards Ronald thought he'd be perfectly content if they just
poured him into a paper bag and put him into a taxi for home.

((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((-))))))))))))))))
)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Returning, they took the top deck of the bus forgetting they had
the money for a taxi..  Toot was deep in thought.  Had he been
able to articulate it he would have said that all the equations
of his life had changed; between father and daughter; between
child and adult.  And he knew it didn't matter whether he liked
it or not.

((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((-))))))))))))))))
)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

On the way home Ronald couldn't get the blue-eyed beauty out of
his mind. When he had first entered her and was waiting for her
to get used to it he could feel her internal muscles testing and
investigating his prick.  He'd almost lost it right then. 
Christ, he'd only known one other woman in his whole life that
had vaginal muscle control like that and she'd been a thirty-five
year old pro.

He laughed uproariously, "That little minx was the fuck of the
century.  At 2000 pounds a pop," he giggled, "if he didn't ration
himself, she'd have all his money by the end of the year!"

Following that line of thought it occurred to him," She could, in
fact, easily become more to a man than money or drugs or power,
maybe even than hope itself."  He realized that he had been half
fantasizing the absurd idea of finding a way to keep her as a
mistress or even marry her. 

"Stupid!" he said to himself, and he shook his head as if to
dislodge the idea.   

He stopped laughing and tried to concentrate on driving but
before the next curve in the motorway his mind returned to the
exquisiteness of shooting off into her tight little belly as her
pail blues stared, unblinking into his.  
 ((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((-)))))))))))))))))
)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

"Over two thousand pounds!"

"Two thousand bloody pounds!"

 "All that money!"

The sentences just kept ricocheting around inside her head like
bullets from a machinegun.  She felt as if she could jump off the
bus and run along side without any problem, shrieking with
laughter.  She wondered if people could see, actually see the
difference in her.  She was a woman now, and a woman of some
means.

"All that fucking money!"  The vulgar word, unfamiliar to her
tongue, unfamiliar even to think, made her giggle.  She felt
inexplicably that there was suddenly a new universe and that she,
somehow, was at the center and could make all new rules. 

"I'm a tart.  I'm a bloody, fucking tart!"  And this time the
thought made her laugh out loud because names didn't matter
anymore.  Now she owned all the names and all the lips that spit
ugly names.  

She shifted on the seat, leaking and sore, it felt as if her
pussy had been stretched big enough to take a small car.  And it
ached from the entrance to way up inside of her. Worse she knew
she was walking funny because of it.  Well, Ron had told her it
was only that way the first time and would go away after a long
hot bath.  She looked forward to hot water and a lengthy time in
the tube; she'd earned it.

It 'was' uncomfortable but wow, it had been great really and she
and her dad were rich!  Two thousand pounds.  They could go on
holiday, stay for a month, buy anything they wanted.  A whole new
life was open to them!

Her dad was in another funk but she knew, her thinking seemed to
be incredibly clear and far sighted now, what he was feeling
about how things had changed.  She knew also what he needed, what
would bring him out of it.  It would have to appear accidental of
course as if things somehow, had just gotten out of hand and the
act had just happened, couldn't help themselves really, no one to
blame, certainly not him.  She loved the old badger with all her
heart and would do anything to make him happy.

Just before they left the motor inn Ronald had thrust a folded
piece of paper into the pocket of her jacket.  She didn't need to
look, she knew what he had jotted.  He was older, had money,
power, but he was hers, not she, his.  It all made her head spin
but in the most delightful way possible, as if all her birthdays
and Christmases were all rolled up into one and it would last
forever and ever.

(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((-)))))))))))))))))
))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

 "Ladies and gentlemen we are going to land at Los Angeles
International Airport in about ten minutes.  The temperature is
78 degrees and partly cloudy.  Thank you for flying Pan World and
please don't leave your seats until the aircraft comes to a
complete halt.  Have a nice stay in LA."

Morgana Boudicca's--"Green" had been lost in the shuffle a long,
long, time ago--thoughts were jolted back to the present. 
Habitually her mind had drifted back to that first time, going
over again, all that she knew or was told or surmised; peering at
it from new angles, pushing and pulling at loose ends.  For what
are memories but the history that we make up to tell ourselves.

She opened her $4000 Cleeton handbag, crafted from hand-tooled,
unborn panda leather; "Soft as a baby's cheek," the saleslady had
simpered.  She found her mirror, checked her make-up and prepared
smile number twenty-three for Prince Faud, Bobbie, who she knew
would be anxiously waiting in the terminal.  She sighed.  He was
always anxious about something, well, other than money, the sot.


As she closed her handbag a few more whimsical thoughts about the
past occurred to her; ones she'd had often.  She wished that her
mum hadn't run away and wondered if she was still alive, she
wished that her dad hadn't died so young but maybe most of all,
she wished that her parents would have read her more fairy tales,
especially the one about King Midas.  












    

 









   

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