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Message-ID: <57458asstr$1206558603@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "blue pervina" <bluepervina@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Another Dirty Little Girl, Day 1 {bluepervina} ( puffy, ped, inc, gtwins, gmast, Ff, gg/m, gg, bdsm, anal, oral, medical, voy, MILF, feet, ws, vom )
Lines: 2722
Date: Wed, 26 Mar 2008 15:10:03 -0400
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

Olivia Palmer is a 12 year-old girl sent to live with her aunt after her
mother is imprisoned. Olivia and her mother had enjoyed a very special love,
and the girl can't help herself - she still craves the touch and taste of
other females. Lucky for her, Aunt Jenelle and Cousin Jeannie are whores
with a whole trailer full of fun little girl cousins for Olivia to play
with!
<1st attachment, "another_dirty_little_girl_day_1.rtf" begin>

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   ----------------

   Another Dirty Little Girl, Day 1



   by bluepervina - ?  2008



   ( puffy, ped, inc, gtwins, gmast, Ff, gg/m, gg, bdsm, anal, oral,
medical, voy, MILF, feet, ws, vom )



   * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *



   IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18, or otherwise forbidden by law to read
(any or specific kinds of) electronically transmitted erotic
material,please do not read anything else in this file.



   This material is copyrighted by bluepervina.  All rights are reserved.
The author specifically grants to an individual user the right to download
and keep ONE electronic copy for that individual's personal reading so long
as all original copyright notices by bluepervina remain included with the
work.



   Any and all reposting requires prior written permission from
bluepervina.



   * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *





   "Day 1" is really the first four parts of this story put together for
one posting.  It starts out a little slow (for those of you looking for
pure stroke), but things steadily heat up.



   And there will be more to come!



   (Feedback is appreciated!)









   "Hey, Livvy!"



   Olivia slowly turned about, looking all around, but she couldn't locate
the source of the voice.  It had to be one of her cousins - one of the
twins - but there was no telling where she was at the moment.  The wind was
swirling pretty good that time of day, too.  The voice could've come from
anywhere.



   Something landed in the dust beside her.  A twig, torn at the end, with
two small leaves still attached.  Olivia was for so many reasons a brighter
girl than most other kids her age, and it took but a moment for the new
information to sink in.  Torn twig, young growth, new leaves.  Ah.  She's
in the-



   Another twig caught Olivia directly in the face.



   She was turning to look up at the tree behind her, and a gust caught
that second little branch at just the right angle.  In an instant the
girl's face was whipped, slashed by accident, a scratch across her cheek
and forehead.  Olivia screeched in surprise and pain, stumbling backward
and falling hard onto her ass.  She barely managed to let go of her
suitcase and reach back to catch herself with her hands, or else her
momemtum would've sent her harder backward, and her skull might've clonked
the ground, too.



   Dirt and dust blew into her eyes, which were already filling with hot,
angry tears.  She wiped at her face, blinded, hurting so suddenly in so
many different places.



   But the voice was already crying out again, apologizing, concerned.  "Oh
wow!  Sorry Livvy!  Geez...  I didn't know that'd hit you in the face. 
Holy crap!"



   Olivia heard a bunch of scrambling, scraping noises above and beyond
where she sat.  She heard more than felt a pair of feet land lightly
nearby, a body flung down expertly from its perch.  She turned her dirty,
tear-stained face toward the sound and tried to smile.



   "Hey, Jessie - or Josie - whoever you are..." Olivia sighed, attempting
to make nice.



   "Ah!  It's Jessie, Liv," she felt two small hands on her shoulders, felt
the shifting of the hands as the body in front of her squatted, "and I'm so
so so sorry I hurt you!"



   One eye was barely able to open, but Olivia managed to make out Jessie's
sharp, pretty features swimming just a few inches beyond her own nose.  The
girl was leaning in, frowning, obviously concerned and just as obviously
regretting what she'd done.  Olivia dug the heel of her hand against her
other eye and shrugged.  "It's OK.  I'm all right."



   "Yeah, right!" came a new voice, very nearly like the first.  This one
was behind Olivia, coming from the trailer.  She twisted to see with her
one decent eye, and there was Josie up in the small square window midway
through the length of the mobile home.  Her hair was wet and heavily
clinging like a dark blond web to her face, and her shouders were bare. 
Just out of the shower?  Olivia couldn't help but grind her teeth a little
- and then grimace and spit as she realized her mouth was just as full of
grit as her eyes.  A shower.  She really needed to bathe.



   It was one of her highest hopes for this move.  There it was, right
there, so close!  A shower that a girl could go into by herself, as often
as she needed, and have the right kind of private time to clean and care
for herself.



   Olivia had planned to wait until that evening, after dinner, to make her
first request for the shower.  But now she really wished she could have one
right away.  She was a total mess.  But Josie started in on her sister
before Olivia could clear her throat enough for more talking.



   "Way to go, Jessie, you bitch!" Josie's voice squeaked.  The twins were
nearly identical except for two things - Jessie's hair was cut short, just
like a good little church boy's, while Josie's was long and rather wild...
and Josie's voice was probably an octave higher than her sister's although
both hit the same basic notes and similar tones most of the time.  It was
when they got excited that you could tell a difference between them
vocally. Jessie's voice would go strong and husky, while Josie's went high
and shrill.



   "She's bleeding, you know!" Josie snapped, popping out the cheap silvery
screen from the inside.  It was caught by the breeze as it fell and went
floating clear down past the end of the trailer before it settled like an
aluminum feather in the scrabbly grass.



   "Lemme' wet a towel and you clean her off right this instant, y'hear?" A
moment later Olivia watched a balled-up and saturated yellow bath towel
come spinning straight at her head, drops of water flying out from it like
a sprinkler.  The older girl yelped, ducking, but Jessie got there in time.
Jumping up in front of her, the skinny girl caught the makeshift ball of
cotton-poly right in the chest.



   It was like a water balloon, except with a lot more weight behind it.  A
small explosion of water erupted from Jessie's front, much of it raining
down on Olivia as its momentum carried it up beyond the twin's shoulders
and past her sides.  Expelling a painful "ugh!", Jessie crumpled around the
bathroom missile, pausing to catch her breath.  Olivia thought she looked
exactly like the boys at school, catching footballs, getting the wind
knocked out of them.  Except for her beautifully rounded ass and a bit more
narrowing at the waist, Jessie could pass easily for a boy.  At least from
behind.



   "Ah!  God!  Fuckin' kill me next time!" Jessie finally managed to croak.
When she turned to Olivia her entire front was soaked - t-shirt, shorts;
water was even running down her bare legs and feet to make little mud
puddles where she stood.  "Now I'm gonna freeze my titties off in this
wind, Josie!  Geez!"



   Josie's answer sing-songed back to them on the breeze: "You... 
deserve...  it!" Then: "I'll be out in a jiff' and you can clean up good in
here, Livvy!  Just hang on!"



   "OK," Olivia called weakly back.  She was blinking hard from her
partially cleared eye, the stinging still hurtin her badly.  Jessie was
kneeling in the dirt in front her then, mopping at her cheek with the
dripping end of the towel.



   "Oh, Livvy, I'm so sorry.  I really am." Cold water ran in heavy
rivulets down Olivia's neck, soaking into her own t-shirt.  A stream even
found its curving way down the middle of her chest, between her small
breasts, to pool messily in her lap, slowly soaking into her denim shorts.
Olivia shivered, suddenly freezing all over.  She could feel the goosebumps
rising everywhere on her skin.  In a spasm of modesty she thought of her
own little titties and how hard her nipples must be getting.  She wasn't
wearing a bra, being only twelve, so it wasn't like there was much to
notice.  Still, though, she could feel them there, scraping beneath the
fabric of her shirt as they expanded, shifting, rising.



   Jessie might see if she looked.  Olivia gasped at the thought,
embarassed and hopeful, despite the small thrill of shame.  Then she
remembered about Jessie own shirt, and Olivia knew she had to see.



   The girl was younger than Olivia by two years, but her breasts were very
nearly as developed as Olivia's own.  The thin green cotton of Jessie's top
- proudly declaring John Deere in cracked yellow letters - was exactly like
a second skin.  Nothing was left for Olivia to guess at.  Jessie's nipples
sprouted from her chest like a couple of fingers shoved out for comic
effect.  They were thick, long, and hypnotizing.  The flesh all around them
rose out from the girl's chest as if pulled that way by the deliciously
tight skin around her areolae.  The shirt was so thin and wet and close on
the girl that even her belly button was clearly visible, her taut tummy and
upper abdomen flexing with her ministrations and breathing.  It looked as
if she was covered with green plastic wrap rather than a hand-me-down
shirt.



   Familiar flutterings tumbled about in Olivia's tummy.  Though sitting,
she suddenly felt much too wobbly.  And tingly everywhere.  It was all she
could do to remain still and quiet there, on her ass in the dust, and not
tip over.



   She tried to breathe and let Jessie wipe at her face, but the urge to
keep peeking was too much.  Olivia knew she'd get caught, get embarassed
for real, and further ruin these first important moments at her new home.
She decided it would be best if she just closed her eyes and concentrated
on Jessie's little hands and how they moved the towel gently over her
scratched and dirty skin.



   A shameful heat flushed her face, all the way to the roots of her hair,
and she knew she was blushing.  Olivia had always been terrible about that.
No way she could ever hide her emotions.  Jessie, though, seemed too busy
to notice, so her older cousin tried to calm herself as fast as possible by
breathing steady and squeezing her eyes more tightly shut.  But that stung!
There was still too much dirt and sweat clogged up in her eyelids.



   She tried, then, looking anywhere but at Jessie's chest and tummy.  But
it didn't do much good.  Every new rivulet of cold water down her own neck
and chest spun her that much further into a melty, ruined state of arousal.
Her panties had to be completely gooey by now.  She wondered how much
longer before they'd let her in the bathroom - and let her alone.



   "Ah, yeah.  God." Jessie murmured, frowning in concentration and
concern, biting a little at her lip while she dabbed the towel against
Olivia's cheek.  "That twig was like a little switch, y'know?  It scratched
you pretty good.  Geez...." Something changed in her voice then, and Olivia
heard a sniffle.  Jessie was trying not to cry.  "I'm so sorry I fucked
this up already, Livvy," she whispered.  "I know it's gotta be so hard
comin' all the way out here and all.  I'm so sorry it's startin' this way.
I was just, y'know, tryin' to play an' have fun with you, that's all.  I
thought it would help."



   Olivia clucked her tongue with false bravado and smiled.  To Jessie she
was the tough older cousin, who was going through hell on her own two feet,
walking straight ahead and still strong enough to tell about it.  "Yeah,
well, this ain't nothin' compared to the girls' home, Jess.  Believe me. 
They'd have thrown the whole tree at me."



   Then they were both giggling, and it was OK.  Jessie helped get most of
the crud out of her eyes after a few more minutes, and Olivia found that
she could see with almost no stinging or crazy rapid blinking anymore. 
What remained was a nice, warm, private shower to take care of the rest.



   "C'mon, Liv," Jessie grunted, pulling the older, taller girl to her
feet. Then she whistled, looking down at herself, seeing her own soaked and
clinging shirt for the first time.  "Wowie, ain't I got the nips now, eh
Livvy?!" She elbowed her cousin in the ribs and pointed with pride and no
shame whatsoever at the rigid nubs protruding from her chest.  "Bet'cha
there ain't no 'leven year olds in that girls' home with titties like
these!" With that, she flung the wet towel back up into the trailer's
bathroom window, where it hung halfway out, dripping grimy water down the
side.  Olivia expected Josie to cuss from somewhere there in the bathroom,
but apparently she was gone to change.



   Jessie chuckled, looking around them.  Her family's trailer was at the
far end of the first row of the mobile home park, with only a staggering
line of tired-looking scrub oaks separating their dusty yard from the ditch
and the road that ran beside it.  In fact, the ditch was shallow enough at
their end to allow most pickups and SUVs a direct route to drive straight
up into their yard.  That was how they'd arrived at the place in her
caseworker's old Bronco II - right off the road and on up through the
ditch.



   Not many cars came by there, since they were a couple miles beyond town,
out among the hog farms and cow pastures.  It was a small surprise, in
fact, that Olivia hadn't been reminded of those animal neighbors yet; the
typical country-shit smell that usually clung to the mobile home park was
being freshened up by the steady gusts.  Out of the dozens of times she'd
come out there as a visitor, this was the first that she didn't get out of
the vehicle and immediately inhale the rich, unmistakeable presence of
manure.



   Olivia couldn't help but feel a pang, both for bitter and for sweet.  On
the one hand, it could be a good omen, despite the bad luck of the
missile-twig: she was finally coming to the trailer as a resident, not as a
visitor, so perhaps the changed atmosphere signalled other good changes to
come.  Then again, on the other hand, she was coming to live with her aunt
and cousins, and that was because she couldn't live with her mom anymore.
Her mom was, after all, still in the state penitentiary.



   Aunt Jenelle's trailer, though, was sure to be such a gigantic
improvement over the eight months she'd spent in the girls' home...  so
Olivia decided, on the whole, to look at things in a good light.  Even the
twig, despite the resulting pain and grit, had managed to almost
immediately get her a glimpse of her tomboy cousin's delicious-looking
breasts.  From the bad comes the good.  From the tough comes the tender.



   As if on cue, Jessie finished her own careful inspection of their end of
the row, then looked over at Olivia, winking; in a flash she whipped her
saturated t-shirt up over her head, removing it in a wet arc of green.  Her
older cousin couldn't help it - she gasped in shock and arousal, quickly
covering her mouth and looking everywhere around them all over again.  And
her vagina spasmed deliciously.  She felt a thick stream of juice run out
of her hole and into her panties.  Olivia was sure it would make all sorts
of sloppy sounds when she walked.



   But Jessie wasn't going to notice.  She was too busy laughing at
Olivia's embarassment, completely misinterpreting what she saw.



   "Ah-ha!  Look at how red you are!" the younger girl nodded mockingly,
pointing at Olivia's bright, hot face, covered by her hands up to her
watering eyes.  "You really are a goody-goody after all!  And I thought
that was just for show!  I thought we'd end up being two peas in a pod -
well, three if you count Josie.  But here you get all embarassed by me
going a little bit nudist in our own yard.  Ha!  Just relax!"



   Olivia hesitatingly brought her hands down, trying not to look at
Jessie's glorious naked torso.  The pink buds practically knocked on her
eyeballs, though, and she found herself gawking at them, facing her little
cousin in open, amazed appreciation.  Jessie propped her hands on her hips,
prouder than ever, and thrust out her chest.  Olivia choked down a
strangled sort of moan as she watched the girl's puffy breasts bulge toward
her.



   "Well, Livvy?  Like I said, ain't they somethin'?"



   She stepped in close to the older girl then, and Olivia immediately held
her breath, clenching her fists at her sides.  Those nipples were almost
close enough to brush her arm!  Jessie only had to step up...  just a
little closer...  and they would so sweetly stab her.  But Jessie was done
moving in.  Now she was whispering something, with a wicked grin on her
eleven year-old face.



   "And mine are a whole lot nicer than Josie's, just so you know..."



   Jessie stepped back then, laughing even more.  "But I got no doubt
you'll be seeing that for yourself sooner or later." She balled up her
shirt then, pausing briefly to squeeze most of the excess water out of it,
before firing a perfect strike straight through the bathroom window.  "You
know Josie!"



   Jessie spread out her arms, catching the wind full against her moist
front.  "Ah, it feels good to dry off like this, don't it?" She glanced
over at Olivia and grinned.  "You oughta try it, Liv!"



   Olivia was now once again holding her suitcase in both hands, in front
of her legs, giving her arms a chance to cover her own dangerously stiff
nipples.  That was how she was, despite everything that had ever happened
to her or ever would - Olivia was a modest, humble kind of girl, and she'd
forever try her hardest to keep control over even the wildest feelings that
might try and bust through.



   It was a charming, ridiculous struggle: her personality versus her
instinct.  Her mother had seen what a lady, what a sweet princess her young
daughter could be, and she had been smart enough to draw out and refine
those qualities in Olivia as much as her own limited resources and
imagination could provide.  Yet her mother was also her mistress, her
corrupter, her first and - so far - only lover.  Olivia had learned the
ways of both the curtsy and of the cunt.  Of showing polite restraint in
public and of being trained in private.  By a mother with very particular
tastes.



   Before Olivia had a chance to reply to Jessie's taunting smile and
dancing eyes, Josie burst from the trailer.  She flew at Olivia in a flurry
of arms and legs and kisses, giggling and scolding - somehow at the same
time - over her older cousin's injuries and her twin sister's carelessness
- and toplessness.



   The wind blew Josie's damp hair all around them as she embraced Olivia
in a long, hard hug.  To Olivia it felt like getting whipped in the face
all over again.  She winced as a heavier tress landed across her slightly
oozing scratch.  Josie noticed immediately and jumped back, apologizing,
grabbing handfuls of her own hair to rein it in.  Then she rounded on her
twin.



   "Jess, you bitch, you didn't even stop it bleedin'!  What the fuck's
wrong with you, huh?  Livvy don't even get through the yard before you're
on her and kickin' half her ass?  And with your fuckin' shirt off?  What's
that for?  We in a lezzie porno now?  Jesus but I hope Momma comes out here
and--"



   Josie went on like that for a full minute longer, berating her
eye-rolling, head-shaking sister.  She carried on loudly enough for the
cows across the road to take an interest.  They began to watch the girls as
they chewed their slow way through the pasture toward the intervening
fence, lowing at them as if egging on a fight.  Olivia started laughing at
that thought, of cows whipping out tens and twenties and trading bets,
cheering on their favorite.



   Soon Jessie was holding her gut and laughing right along with her, but
for a different reason.  She was apparently too tickled by the ferocity of
her sister's tirade to be defensive.  Josie's little face was so pretty and
so serious, and her mouth was so foul!  How many different ways could an
eleven year-old girl curse her sister?  Josie apparently knew them all. 
And then a moment later she was laughing with them, too.



   The neighboring trailers on down the row were still and quiet.  Either
the occupants were cooped up inside, out of the wind and dusty heat,
watching their talk shows, or else they were off working somewhere, doing
whatever adults are usually supposed to do.  At any rate, no one except the
cows bothered to notice the loud trio at all.



   For the first time in nearly a year, Olivia felt like she was somewhere
safe, a place like a real home.  It felt so good to laugh and relax and
simply be a kid.



   The door to the trailer opened just before the three girls got to it. 
Olivia's caseworker, Mr.  Bowens, was standing awkwardly on the threshold,
staring down at them.  He had his comb in his hand, while his other
clutched at the doorknob, as if he was having a hard time standing.  His
dress shirt was untucked in one little spot on one side, and he wasn't
wearing his knecktie anymore.  Perhaps that was the bulge in his pocket,
his wadded-up tie.



   It was an odd moment.  He opened and closed his mouth several times,
saying nothing, just gawking.  Then all three of the girls seemed to
remember at once - Jessie was standing there topless, delicious, right in
front of him.  They screamed as if with one voice; before the sound faded,
Jessie had crossed her arms over her bare chest and sprinted around the far
end of the trailer.



   Then Josie and Olivia couldn't help it.  They burst into hysterical
laughter again.



   Mr.  Bowens managed to clear his throat, pocketing his comb and stepping
carefully down the aluminum steps.  He looked for an extra moment or two in
the direction of Jessie's flight, and then he looked straight down into
Olivia's eyes.  His face was red and so was his neck.  It was like he'd
been running, or like he was really upset.  Even his breathing was a little
labored.  That wasn't like Mr.  Bowens.  He was usually a healthy-looking
sort of man, even if he was possibly the most boring adult Olivia had ever
known.  It shouldn't wear him out to walk down some steps.  And Jessie's
nudity certainly shouldn't make him upset - not a guy as lifeless as him.
And nobody, anyway, could manage to find a way to get mad at Olivia because
of it, right?  Yet he was seriously out of breath and making a mean little
face at Olivia, nonetheless.



   "Young lady, this is not good," he huffed, "not good at all." It was the
first time in all the months since he took on her case that she ever saw
him expressing emotion.  No flat voice.  No blank, disinterested eyes.  It
was like Mr.  Bowens was a totally different person all of a sudden. 
Olivia began to feel uneasy.



   He was muttering to himself as he stepped closer to the girl, who was
unsure about backing away.  You did that in the girls' home and they pushed
you down.  They mocked you, at the very least.  You had to stand and take
it.  Whatever it was.  She'd just never expected such a similar-feeling
test from this state-assigned mannequin.



   "It's my own damn fault," he barely whispered, staring blankly at the
ground between them.  "Sooner or later this was going to happen.  And I
walked right into it.  Dammit.  Charlie warned me.  So did Townsend. 
Sooner or later these fosters will get you by yoursel--"



   Mr.  Bowens jerked his head up then, as if shocked to find himself there
in the yard, with a skinny kid standing immediately before him.  He frowned
hard at her.  He was sweating so badly it dripped off the end of his nose.



   "Hey, you never mind what I just said, you understand?"



   Olivia nodded forcefully.



   Mr.  Bowens eyed her for an uncomfortably long time, taking in her
dirt-streaked, damp face, her red eyes, and her very wet shirt, which was
doing a lot of clinging of its own, of course; then he sighed and looked
back at the trailer.  A muscle twitched at his temple, and he rubbed it
absently.  Olivia thought he was going to start muttering to himself again.
But he didn't.



   Turning back, he wagged his finger in front of her face.  "I will still
be coming once a month to check on you, now that you are placed.  Even
though it is your own blood kin." He'd already explained that on the way
there, as Olivia had sat beside him in the Bronco II, watching fenceposts
zip by.



   "There had better not be any more of this-" he waved his hand vaguely in
the direction Jessie's escape route "-this stuff going on here, though.  It
will do us - you, I mean - no good.  You don't want the neighbors standing
as witnesses to, uh, well, inappropriate behavior." Mr.  Bowens flushed
red, blinking rapidly, no longer attempting to look Olivia in the eyes.  He
dropped his finger and began to feel for his keys.



   "Don't mess this up, in other words.  You'll be able to stay here as
long as people can't attest to...  to anything that might not, you know,
follow the rules.  Do you understand?" He ran his hand over his mouth,
wiping away the sweat on his lower face.  His eyes darted to Josie, to
Olivia, then off toward the end of the trailer.



   Olivia didn't get it.  Her chest seemed suddenly too tight to breathe,
but she had to ask anyway.  Here she was with her only other family in the
world and Mr.  Bowens was making it sound so bad.



   "Wh- what kind of rules, Mr.  Bowens?"



   He blinked at her a few times, frowning slightly, appearing confused
himself.  But then he put a gentle, hot hand on her shoulder and guided her
a few paces farther away from Josie and the mobile home.  Leaning down near
Olivia's ear, he muttered, "Laws, Olivia.  Laws.  Jesus!"



   He glanced back at the open door of the trailer, then leaned over toward
her again.  "Listen, all right?  And don't forget this.  I don't know what
your aunt is going to tell you about the arrangements here...  but whatever
she says," his voice became a desperate hiss, "you'd better do it."



   His hand clamped down ferociously on her shoulder, and he shook her,
just enough so that she whimpered and almost stumbled.  She choked down a
panicked urge to cry out, certain that would make things worse.  Olivia had
never been grabbed by a man like this before.  She was terrified. 
Clutching at her suitcase, she staggered to get her balance, but the
shifting weight of the case kept throwing her off.  She felt like a puppet,
like a flimsy little doll in his hand.



   She trembled beneath his grip and tried to focus on simply listening and
remembering - which was, after all, what he was trying to get her to do.



   "For your sake and mine, girl, we don't want to mess this up.  You
understand me?" he growled.  "Huh?" His breath was hot on the side of her
face.



   "Don't give anybody a reason to complain about you, y'hear?  And don't
give that woman any reason to send you back." He shook her some more.  "You
got that?"



   Then Josie hollered, "Hey, mister!  What the fuck?!" but she didn't
move. Olivia could tell her cousin's eyes were wide with fear, not anger.
There weren't too many strong-willed men in the cousins' lives, so Mr. 
Bowens was territory that Josie appeared a little too afraid to cross.  She
did, however, still keep her head.  "Momma!" she shouted, "the man's bein'
mean to Livvy!"



   Mr.  Bowens instantly let go of Olivia's shoulder and stepped away from
her.  He yanked his keys out of his pocket, in the process also flinging
out onto the dusty ground his rolled-up knecktie.  And a small roll of
money, too.  Twenty dollar bills?  Olivia tried to make out the
denomination on the outermost one, but before she could, Mr.  Bowens had
gasped and bent to retrieve his cash and his tie.  As he straightened up, a
voice came down from the trailer door.



   "You left your crap on the table." It was Olivia's aunt, Jenelle.



   She stood in the doorway, barefoot, wearing cut-off jeans and a thin
pink spaghetti-strapped top.  Olivia hadn't seen her since her mother's
sentencing, but not much had changed.  Aunt Jenelle was still curvy and
tall and completely in control of her situation.  She held up Mr.  Bowens'
black satchel.  "I think you'll need this, don't you?  Josie, come give
this to the man."



   The skinny blonde scrambled up the steps and retrieved the satchel. 
When she went over to hand it to Mr.  Bowens she hesitated.  He reached out
to take his case from her, but she pulled it back.  Then she dropped it on
the ground between them.  "There you go, you fuckin' asshole," she snarled,
spitting forcefully onto the worn black office bag.  "Don't you [i]ever[/i]
grab my cousin like that again.  Dick."



   Mr.  Bowens sputtered, spreading out his arms.  He looked angry and
afraid and terribly confused.  "Hey!  What're y- I mean, well-"



   Then Aunt Jenelle laughed and completely silenced him.  His eyes bulged
as he watched her stretch up her bare arm and lean against the door frame.
She wore no bra, it was obvious even from twenty feet away, and the woman's
heavy, round breasts were thrown even more lusciously into the afternoon
light as she cocked her hip.  Mr.  Bowens sucked in his breath but
otherwise remained completely still, watching the woman as her chuckling
died away.  She swept some of her long blonde hair out of her eyes and
glanced fondly down at Josie.



   "That's just my Josie, tellin' it like it is, Mr.  B," Aunt Jenelle
fluttered her hand dismissively toward her daughter.  "She's just a kid,
after all.  Don't let an eleven year-old get you so riled."



   Josie turned back to Mr.  Bowens, sticking out her tongue and kicking
dust all over his case.  Then she ran off around the far end of the trailer
and disappeared.



   "You did grab that girl, after all, Mr.  B." Olivia's aunt stared almost
sleepily at the social worker with her cold blue eyes, but then they
suddenly narrowed and sharpened.  "Or did you think I wouldn't notice that?
Just 'cause I'm still up inside my little white trash trailer here...?"



   Mr.  Bowens cleared his throat and tried to stammer a response.  "Well,
now, you see-"



   But Aunt Jenelle cut him off.  "You don't mind if I call you that, do
you?  Mr.  B?" She smiled at him so suddenly, so sweetly, as if nothing was
possibly wrong or even slightly weird about her rapid change of mood.  She
stepped delicately down from the trailer, pointing her toes toward each new
step as if she were dipping them into a cool mountain stream.  Her calves
and thighs flexed and stretched as she descended, so that even Olivia had
to notice how long and well-toned her aunt's legs were.



   Aunt Jenelle walked the short distance from the steps to where Mr. 
Bowens stood, her breasts bouncing in a steady, ponderous rhythm, and bent
down to pick up the satchel for him.  Walking had shrugged the thin straps
down off her shoulders, so when she stood back up her top had shifted quite
a bit, sliding down her large boobs until only her fat nipples appeared to
be holding the top in place.  She did nothing to fix it, and she smiled as
Mr.  Bowens tried heroically not to stare.



   Olivia stared, though.  She couldn't help herself, and she felt no shame
in it, anyway.  This was her mother's younger sister, the closest woman to
her mother that she could get.  Aunt Jenelle was taller and bigger than her
own mom, but they shared the same shade of blue eyes, the same sort of
nose, the same thick blonde hair.  Olivia wondered if Aunt Jenelle was
blonde between her legs, too, just like her mother.  And if her nipples
were surrounded by long, light blonde hairs, just like her mother's were.
Her mom had told her many times that most women plucked all those out, just
like a lot would shave all the hair off of everywhere else except their
heads.  Olivia used to think her mom had just been joking, but seeing the
older girls at the state home had shown her otherwise.  Could Aunt Jenelle
be shaved and hairless everywhere, too?



   In a flash, Olivia knew that she desperately wanted to find out as soon
as possible, to see just how alike and how different her aunt really was
from her mother.  Just to get closer to her.  Just to get at least a piece
back of what she used to have, back when she had her own home, her own mom.



   Excited, distracted, the girl didn't even realize that all her fear had
completely disappeared.  It was almost like her mother was right there in
front of her, ready to protect and comfort her, no matter what.  Olivia
looked up into her aunt's face then, and smiled.  Aunt Jenelle smiled back,
and then she winked.



   "Well now, uh, I don't mind," Mr.  Bowens began, carefully watching
everything around him but Aunt Jenelle's chest.  "You can call me Mr.  B, I
guess.  If that's what you want."



   "Hmmm...  'what I want', huh?  I'm glad you're keeping that in mind."
Aunt Jenelle cocked her head a little to one side and smiled in a way that
seemed to suck every bit of air right out of the social worker's lungs.  He
definitely looked nothing at all now like the mannequin caseworker Olivia
had known for so many months.  His face was full of emotion, and it seemed
as if he couldn't stayed fixed in one feeling for very long at all.  Sweat
continued to roll down his cheeks and off his nose.  But he finally did
look at Aunt Jenelle's breasts.  He gazed at them for a long time, his
mouth going slack.



   Aunt Jenelle took one hand off his satchel and reached up to slowly pull
her top the rest of the way down, letting it fall around her waist.  Olivia
quivered all over.  Her aunt's titties were so much bigger than her
mother's.  The nipples were a lot darker and fatter, too - and they were
hairless!  How different from her mother's; yet still they were undeniably
beautiful, delectable breasts, and Olivia ached to put her mouth on them.



   Mr.  Bowens made a pitiful, strangled sound deep in his throat, but he
couldn't tear his eyes away from what Aunt Jenelle was showing him.  He
didn't even look around once to see what possible "witnesses" there might
be.  But of course there weren't any.  Neither he nor Olivia yet knew how
much control over that trailer park Jenelle really had.



   "Now, Mr.  B, don't go havin' a heart attack on us, OK?" Aunt Jenelle
chided.  She looked down at her chest, dusted lightly with freckles, and
shook her head.  "They're just titties, after all."



   Olivia found herself setting her suitcase back down and taking the
satchel from her aunt, instead.  She turned to her caseworker with it and
smiled.  "It's OK, Mr.  Bowens, I'm not mad or scared or anything," Olivia
said.  "Take your briefcase thingie, OK?  Please?  I promise I'll be good."



   Aunt Jenelle was pulling up her top again and turning away from Mr. 
Bowens, and so finally he seemed able to move.  He reached out and took his
case, staring down for a moment at Olivia with vacant eyes, as if he was
still deeply focused on gazing at those gorgeous breasts.



   "Um, well, OK then," he eventually said, attempting a casual smile at
the girl.  Since he'd never done something like that to Olivia before, the
expression was just as startling to her as any he'd revealed in the past
few minutes.



   Then he was gone.  The old country road hummed faintly with the sound of
his Bronco II struggling to get out of third gear, but soon even his tire
tracks in the yard were being steadily blown away by the relentless breeze.



   "Come on in, honey," Aunt Jenelle's voice came to her from the steps. 
Olivia turned to see her aunt gripping the suitcase for her, smiling with
sweet sincerity, holding the screen door wide open.  "Let's get you in the
tub and get you fed and comfy and all that good stuff.  Then we'll get all
caught up, OK?"



   It seemed like ten times more tears were in her eyes then, washing away
all the rest of the dirt and the sting of her arrival.  Olivia didn't
bother to hide them.  She sobbed hard, barely able to walk, but with some
gulping and face-wiping she finally made it to the first of the aluminum
steps.  The girl entered her new home, smiling, ready, she was certain, for
whatever might be next.



   * * *



   "Who the fuck is that?  Is that Livvy?  Little Olivia?"



   The voice came from across the small living room, from the other side of
the darkness inside the trailer that Olivia's messy eyes were still
adjusting to.  The television was on.  Someone was playing a video game. 
The huge, flat screen dominated one corner of the room; cartoonish figures
were fighting some sort of one-on-one battle, while other figures stood
here and there around the landscape, offering advice and special weapons.
It was a girl versus a boy on the screen; at least, it was a pink-haired
figure in a red tunic, jumping all over some poor figure wearing an orange
suit, a headband, and spiky yellow hair.  A Simpsons battle game?  For
real? Nah.



   Olivia hadn't seen a video game system in so many months!  She was
instantly transfixed.  Still sobbing quietly in ragged little breaths, the
girl stood inside the doorway of the mobile home as her eyes adjusted to
the light; she studied the characters running and bouncing all over the
screen, losing herself in that moment, discovering a small amount of calm
to cling to.  This was normal.  This was truly a home.  Kids playing video
games, loafing around, no big deal.



   Her own Playstation 2 was locked up in a storage unit, along with all
the rest of her and her mother's things.  The house they'd lost when she
went to jail was long since sold.  Mr.  Bowens had told her how the lawyer
had put the last of her mother's bank money into renting a big storage unit
for multiple years, making sure to get all their stuff boxed and packed
away inside it, silently awaiting the day that the two of them could once
again reclaim a regular life.



   Olivia ground her teeth against those thoughts, tried to push them away
for the millionth time.  Her game system was there, yeah, along with Janie
Jellybean, her favorite Cabbage Patch doll...  and the pink sundress her
mom had bought her for wearing to court that day, the only day they'd let
her testify...  and there were her shoes, her day-of-the-week panties, her
barettes and clips and frilly bands for her hair...  and her drawing book,
her pictures, all those wobbly, silly doodles she used to make and keep...
and all those puppy dog figurines she'd collected...  and her Nancy Drew
books, every single one read and re-read and still so precious...  and
soccer cleats and shin guards and her ball...  all locked up...  all gone
until forever came and went and she was too old and different to care about
them anymore.



   She knew it would happen eventually, that she'd just stop wanting it all
back, cease needing it all around her again, all that stuff, all those
objects that had given so much shape to her life from before.  But right
then and there she was nearly overwhelmed.  The tears were going to come
again if she didn't find a way to push those thoughts back down.  She
swallowed hard and concentrated on trying to see what was right in front of
her, right then and there, so she wouldn't see into that lost faraway any
longer.



   "Jesus, Livvy!  You've grown like a foot since you last came around
here! God!"



   The source of the voice was still hidden from Olivia's view.  All she
could see was a dim outline of the person, sprawled in a recliner against
the far wall, bouncing a foot up and down as it hung off the arm of the
chair.  And there was someone else.  Olivia stepped a little farther into
the room; sitting cross-legged on the floor a few feet away from the chair
was the other person - a girl, clearly lit by the television's pinwheel
light.  She worked the controller in her hands with a steady, easy mastery,
as she studied the screen with rapidly moving eyes, her lips parted, her
long bangs hanging down around her eyes.  She was very pretty, and she was
older than Olivia by several years.



   "Hey, Johnnie," Olivia said quietly, not wanting to break the girl's
concentration.  Johnnie answered in a flat, quick voice, "Hey, Livvy," as
the pink-haired girl executed some sort of fancy pile-driving maneuver
involving a crazy sequence of controller combinations and a lot of
fascinating graphical effects.



   The fight was soon over, and Johnnie paused the game as the setup screen
for the next battle appeared.  She strained upward from her cross-legged
position on the floor to see Olivia over the top of the couch, which sat
empty between them.  Johnnie's t-shirt hung loosely over her flat chest,
but her nipples were fat like her sisters', and they poked out against the
fabric of her top with a lewd insistence.  Olivia found herself staring,
once again, at cousin-breasts, aching to suckle.



   "You wanna play?" Johnnie asked, holding up the second controller. 
"It's a ninja game, and you can be whoever you want, girl or boy or
whatever.  It's pretty cool."



   Olivia ached to get her hands on that controller.  She'd get to sit
close to another sexy cousin and she'd get to play a video game, too. 
Nodding her head, the girl was very nearly around the edge of the couch,
preparing to engage her cousin in virtual combat, but then Aunt Jenelle's
arm slid across Olivia's shoulders, gently redirecting her steps to the
right and toward the trailer's only hallway.



   "Now hold on, Livvy, baby," cooed Jenelle.  "Don't forget - you're a
mess.  You need to clean up first.  You should see the dirt that's on you,
girl!"



   "Ah!  I forgot!" Livvy suddenly didn't care at all about video games or
storage units or anything else.  She had a chance to take a bath - and to
be in a bathroom alone, truly in private with a lock on the door and no
chance of somebody barging in, for the first time in months!  Olivia nearly
ran down the hall.



   From the living room Olivia could faintly hear a voice grumbling, "Well,
fuck, that was rude.  She didn't even say hi back to me or nothin'.  What a
little cunt." But Aunt Jenelle, who was trailing behind, called back, "Just
relax, Jeannie.  And why don't you turn on a light?  I can't even see you
over there.  Olivia probably couldn't, either."



   The girl stopped at the bathroom door and turned, waiting for her aunt
to catch up.  Jenelle ducked into a bedroom door first, re-emerging a
second later empty-handed.  "I put your suitcase on the bed, so you can
change in there when you're done," she said.  "We don't have but the two
bedrooms, remember, so you'll be in there with the twins and Julia." Aunt
Jenelle's mouth went a little crooked then, nearly smiling, but not quite.
"I'll let the four of you figure out your sleeping needs and all that.  I
don't really care.  And there's always the couch, too." Jenelle nodded her
head back toward the living room, "but Johnnie sleeps out there most of the
time, so you'd have to work something out with her if you want to use that
pull-out.  Most of the time she just crashes on the couch in the middle of
some stupid video game, drooling all over herself.  Pitiful little addict."



   Jenelle winked at her then, raising a long, soft hand and running her
fingers through Olivia's dark hair.  The girl shuddered and went instantly
weak in her knees.  That touch!  How long had it been since her mother had
done that same thing, caressed her head, smoothed her hair, smiled down at
her with her perfect blue eyes?  Olivia sobbed hard and forced her eyelids
closed.  She let her aunt's hand linger in her hair, let her heart run wild
as it pounded through her body once again.



   "Oh, Livvy, you poor thing," Jenelle murmured.  "It's all right." Then
her aunt pulled Olivia to her, and the girl flung herself forward,
clutching with all her strength at her aunt, hugging and squeezing and
weeping, her face buried between Jenelle's huge, soft breasts.  Tears and
snot and dirt were getting all over her aunt, for sure, but Jenelle didn't
push the girl away; she held her firmly and continued to stroke her hair,
cooing wordlessly and letting Olivia get all the hug she wanted.



   Finally the girl let go.  It was just too much.  If she kept letting
herself get all crazy and sad and happy and lonely all at once like that,
she was sure her aunt would start having second thoughts about keeping her.
Because who wanted to deal with all the crap that comes along with a
desperate, needy twelve year-old?  Orphaned by the state, mother thrown in
jail, passed around by fosters, tossed into the girls' home, failing a
grade at school, weeping a lot by herself or else reacting to nothing, most
times around other people as cold and quiet as stone, and yet inside
feeling everything all at once all the time, finally pouring out her
cauldron-heart only now, when she was finally held again, loved again, and
touched with a gentle hand.



   It would freak anybody out.  Olivia had to get control of herself.  She
stepped away from Aunt Jenelle and finally turned her back, moving toward
the little bath tub.  "I'm sorry," she whispered.  "I messed up your top."



   Jenelle just laughed, glancing down.  She quickly pulled her top off,
tossing it on top of the hamper crammed between the sink and the toilet. 
"It's all right.  It washes." Her hands were on her hips, her back arched.
Her heavy, swaying breasts were damp here and there from Olivia's face, and
the girl suddenly wanted right back between them, nuzzling, licking,
tasting.  But the girl fought hard to avoid looking, knowing how obvious
she already was; and Aunt Jenelle was not her mother, after all.  She
wasn't sure how her aunt felt about all that.  She wasn't even sure how
much her aunt really knew.



   "Now, you need to wash, too," Jenelle declared, reaching for the door
and slowly pulling it closed as she stepped back out of the bathroom. 
"Just you lock this door and don't worry one bit about taking as long as
you need, OK?  If one of these little kittens comes and wants in, just tell
'em to go piss on a tree.  They can always go down to the laundry room
commodes anyway, if they're really that desperate.  So don't worry about
them.  You fill that tub and enjoy it."



   With that, the door was closed.  Olivia nearly leaped across the small
space to hit the lock.  "Just don't fall asleep and drown!" teased her
aunt. Then she felt the soft vibrations of her aunt continuing down the
hallway toward the master bedroom.



   Olivia instantly began undressing.  She tore off her shirt, yanked down
her shorts and panties in one grab, and nimbly stepped out of the leg
holes, leaving her shoes and socks on for the moment.  Stepping in front of
the mirror, she looked at her own breasts.  The girls' home didn't give out
bras to girls until they were embarassingly puffy-chested, and Olivia had
just begun to reach that state.  Her nipples weren't as fat as her cousins'
and they were darker, sharper-looking.  Her chest bumps had recently become
more like little soft cones of flesh, a perfect mouthful, and just the
thought of a mouth on them made her nearly collapse in a heap.



   An intoxicating warmth flooded the girl's body; she began to feel nearly
sick in the pit of her stomach with need.  Running her fingers along the
sides of her soft mounds, then slowly fanning each finger back and forth
across the tips of her nipples, Olivia couldn't help but moan quietly and
watch herself.  Her face was flushed, cheeks red beneath the grime and
grit-streaks of her tears.  Her neck was even red, down her throat and
nearly halfway down the center of her chest, blushing evidence of her deep,
yearning lust.



   Pinching her nipples in steady rhythmn, the girl stared into her own
eyes and focused only on that moment.  It was the one thing no one had
truly been able to take away from her, at least not yet.  She could still
touch herself.  She could still make those feelings come.  She could still
rub and pinch and pull and poke herself.  Not as often or as completely as
she wanted, but she'd managed well enough to keep her sanity, all those
months.  Even without the guaranteed privacy of a bathroom with a locking
door, she'd still managed to sneak into the girls' home gang bathroom every
now and then, deep into the night, when it was long past curfew and the
other girls were lost in their pillows and snores.  Sometimes a girl or two
were already there, and then she'd leave them alone and go in frustration
back to her bed, to try and masturbate with the least amount of motion and
noise possible, beneath her sheets in a room with nine other girls.



   But there had been times, at least a few, when the bathroom had been
open, empty, and gloriously safe in the deep quiet of the night; she'd let
herself rub luxuriously, sloppily, at her pussy; she'd let herself moan a
tiny bit, pant out loud for breath as the shuddering moments would come;
she'd quietly groan, "Mommy", while she'd suck on a naughty finger or two,
strumming at her clit with her other hand, until she was too tired to go
on.



   Now she was in a real home with a bathroom door that locked, and with
permission to be alone, take her time, and relax.  It was only a thought,
but it made her feel so good she almost lost her balance, and she closed
her eyes to the pleasure.  Her breasts beneath her hands were on fire.  Her
insides were molten, scalding, and perfect.



   The screen door creaked, she heard a footstep, then it slammed.  A
sudden shout burst down the hallway, and Olivia jumped back to reality,
whirling on the locked door.  "Momma!  Where's Livvy?!" It was Jessie. 
"Momma!"



   "Calm down, Jess," came Aunt Jenelle's slow, pretty drawl.  By the
sound, Olivia could tell she was walking past the bathroom, toward the
front of the trailer.  "Olivia's going to take a bath and get changed.  You
leave her alone and let her have a chance to get used to things."



   "Aw, shit!" Jessie pouted.  "We wanted to show her some stuff, Momma!"



   "Well, just show her later, then.  And put on a shirt."



   "No way, Momma!" Jessie laughed, her voice going muffled as she leapt
back outdoors, the screen door creaking and slamming again.  "My titties
feel too good in this good old country air!" Then giggles, and Olivia could
hear Josie there with her, and then the light patter of bare feet on the
dusty grass, past the bathroom's open window and around the other end of
the trailer, chased by a bellow of "SLUT!" from the voice in the living
room.  "You goddamn little lezzie slut!  Do what Momma says!"



   But the girls were long gone, again, and all Olivia heard was the quiet
voice of her aunt, "Be quiet, Jeannie.  Jessie's not doing any harm."



   "Jesus, Momma!" was the only reply.  Then there was nothing but the
distant sounds of a video game and the pounding in Olivia's ears of her own
racing heart.



   The girl stepped one foot on the other, then, and pulled out of her
tennis shoes.  Bending to peel off her socks, she took a moment to dig a
finger between her toes, bringing the finger up to her face for a long,
slow whiff of the funk she'd collected.  Ah, one more thing that was still
hers.  They couldn't take her body, could they?  It's funny little holes
and cracks and creases.  The smells it could make!  Why did she love it all
so much?



   She bent again and dug between her toes, this time with all four fingers
of each hand squirming between all five toes of each foot.  Her fingertips
then went lightly back and forth between her nose, her eyes closed, as she
lost herself to her own sweet stink.



   Settling down on the floor, she sat like a buttefly, rubbing the soles
her feet against each other, her knees lolled out wide.  Her pussy lips
parted, and the odor that wafted over her then was heaven.  It was her own
little beastly aroma, the scent a dog could follow and pounce upon.  The
stink that drove her mad with longing.  Her mother's was heavier, far
stronger than hers, a smell of stale pissy hair and gooey sweat, the reek
of a warm, excited cunt, not so much as fishy-smelling as her own little
slit; her mother's had been far sweeter to sniff at, and much, much better
to taste.  But Olivia liked her own well enough.  Especially when it was
all she could get.



   The girl dipped three fingers down to her pussy.  One for the slick
middle groove, the other two on either side, running between her inner and
outer lips.  She rubbed, smelled, and tasted with her fingers, over and
over, while her feet rubbed soles slowly, sensuously, and her other hand
found once again a nipple, pinching, pulling, twisting.



   Olivia eventually lifted her foot and grasped it in both hands, bending
down as she brought it up to her face.  She rubbed her sole against her
cheek, ran her nose across the arch, and finally slid her tongue between
each toe.  For a long time she sucked and licked on that foot and then the
other, pausing every now and then to go back to her pussy, collecting more
and more of the juice that was beginning to flow freely onto the fuzzy
yellow bath mat.



   A sudden thump against the trailer brought the girl instantly to her
feet.  At the open window was a face.  Jessie!  Her hands were clutching
the windowsill and just her nose and eyes and the top of her head was
visible.  But that window was way, way off the ground!



   "Caught 'ya!" Jessie squealed, then glanced down.  "She's doin' herself,
Josie!  Just like I said!  Ha!  You owe me a dollar!"



   "Fuck that!" came Josie's voice, "I don't believe it just cause you say.
You ain't gettin' my dollar, bitch."



   Olivia could barely breathe.  It was as if she'd been suddenly turned to
glass, picked up, and shattered against the floor.  She sank down to her
knees, staring in shock at Jessie's winking eyes.  "I'm standin' on Josie's
shoulders, Livvy!  I can't believe you actually left the blinds up!  How
stupid!"



   But her cousin seemed to sense the trouble she'd caused, and she stared
at Olivia in silence for a long, serious moment.



   "Ah, shit, Livvy.  I did it again.  I'm so sorry." Jessie muttered.  "I
didn't mean nothin' by it."



   "It's OK," the girl managed to reply, acutely aware of her wet feet, wet
crotch, and the stink that was still lingering in her nostrils.



   Jessie's face was red.  "No, Livvy, really.  I'm sorry.  We shoulda'
left you alone.  It's my fault.  We won't tell nobody.  Honest.  I fucking
swear."



   "No," Olivia said, blushing hard and fluttering her hands in her lap. 
"I'm the one who's sorry.  I'm such a freak."



   Jessie snorted.  "Freak?  Fuck that!  You should see what Josie and me
do in that bathroom!  Good lord." Olivia couldn't help but chuckle.  Jessie
went on, in a quieter voice, "You can see tonight, Livvy, if you want. 
Well, not in the bathroom, exactly.  Josie and me got it all planned out
already.  If you want.  But it's OK if you don't."



   "Uh, OK," Olivia stammered back, the warmth beginning to flood through
her again.  "I think I'd like that."



   Jessie beamed, then looked back down, whispering hoarsely.  "She said OK
about later, Josie!  Fuckin' A!  Now lemme' jump off, bitch!"



   Olivia's cousin turned back to give her one last wink, then her face
disappeared from the window.  There was a soft thump, and then the sound
once again of feet scampering around the far end of the yard.  Olivia
slowly stood back up and closed the window, pulled down the blinds.



   She turned the bath water on, got the temperature just past warm, and
gently slipped in.  The water wasn't even covering all the bottom yet, so
when her ass touched the cold hard vinyl of the trailer tub, she nearly
yelped out loud.  But soon enough the water was a few inches deep, and the
warm flow was melting her.  The girl scooted her ass forward until it was
nearly to the pounding cascade of the spigot; that way her head could rest
on the bottom of the tub as it filled.  The water rushed into and over her
ears, and though she knew it'd be a pain to clear her ears later, she left
her head still.



   Propping her feet on the vinyl wall above the hot and cold fixtures,
Olivia let her hands stray back down to her open pussy, splashing the water
up and down in her slit, splashing water up onto her thighs, her belly,
even up to her little titties.  It was so warm as it hit and ran back off!



   Before the tub could fill up past her sides and over her puffy breasts,
Olivia decided to go through with one of her oldest and most favorite bath
time rituals.  She pulled her knees back toward her head, scooched her ass
up a little, and held her cunt lips open wide.  Her bladder was nice and
full from the long ride over to Aunt Jenelle's.  Mr.  Bowens had bought her
a thirty-two ounce soda when he'd filled up with gas, and now the warm bath
water was going to easily coax it out of her.



   With a small grunt, Olivia began to piss.  Her urine, much more yellow
than usual, sprayed up above her body, arcing back toward her torso, and
rained down all over her chest and face.  The hissing force of her pissing
hole was covered by the thunder from the faucet, so Olivia let herself push
really hard.  The gushing pee splashed against her in thick drops like
bombs - so much hotter than the bath!  She opened her mouth and collected
gulp after gulp of her own bitter piss, snorting and coughing as it went
right up her nose and down her throat, but she still went back for more.



   After a few moments she was empty, and she lowered her legs back down.
The bath water was now nearly up the sides of her face to her eyes and
mouth, and soon she'd have to close them all so she could float a little
underneath the surface.  It was heavenly.  To take a bath in her own piss,
with plenty of regular water to keep the smell off, and soap and shower
later to make sure of it.



   She closed her eyes and her mouth, and she let the fluids rise.  She
imagined she was sinking deep down to the bottom of a warm, huge tub - a
garden one, like she and her mother used to have - and it was glittering,
golden inside, filled with pee.



   There were times when her mother had let her do it that way, when they'd
spent a whole Saturday or Sunday peeing only in the tub, letting it get as
deep as possible before getting in at night, filling it the rest of the way
with hot water, and taking turns going under, rolling around in it, coming
up spluttering and splashing and laughing...  while the other sat nearby on
the toilet with her pussy open, sliding her fingers here and there and
everywhere, waiting for her turn.



   And then, of course, they'd finish it up with the two of them in it
together.  They'd kiss and drink mouthfuls of pissy bath water and drink
mouthfuls of fresh pissing cunt and laugh and tickle and hug.  And on and
on, until by the end they were too dirty and messy and smelly for the bath,
and the shower had to come on and make them clean again.



   A few minutes later, beneath the trailer shower, her hair shampooed, her
body scrubbed clean with soap, Olivia realized she hadn't really gone
all-out on her own pussy.  Not after Jessie had appeared.  Hadn't even let
the faucet pound on her clit - damn!  But then she remembered what Jessie
had said, and she thought about the prospect of seeing her cousins there in
that bathroom, doing whatever wonderful things that twins must do; and she
was happy to wait a little while.



   It was her new home, after all, and hopefully she'd have plenty more
times later to rub herself as much as she pleased.



   But at that moment she was hungry - starving!  It was time to get out
and get dressed and go eat, if she could.  That was another part of being
home, right?  Wandering into the kitchen, snacking, laying around and
munching on Doritos and Cheetos and whatever else the mommy had brought
from the store?  The girl was nearly shaking, the thought excited her so
much.  She couldn't wait for some good old fashioned junk food!



   Olivia toweled off and wrapped it around her slender body; she slowly
opened the bathroom door, then tiptoed down to the first bedroom.  The
video game was still going strong in the family room, and no other sounds
could be heard.  She made it inside and closed the door behind her.  The
suitcase was on one of the two beds, and a note on top of it read: "Put
your things in the dresser by the window - you get the top three drawers
and Julia will get the bottom ones - and there's room in the closet.  We'll
go buy you some new stuff tomorrow!  Jenelle."



   In a moment the clothes were put away and Olivia was dressed.  She
finished toweling her hair and ran her brush through it; she glanced
briefly in the small round mirror above the dresser, content to let it hang
straight and damp around her lightly-flushed face.  Then, forgetting her
manners completely, the girl left her wet towel in a heap on the bed and
pranced happily out of the bedroom and back down the hall.



   There on the couch sat Jessie - at last with a shirt back on - and Josie
and their little sister, Julia, who looked just like them, only smaller and
prettier somehow.  Johnnie was still on the floor playing a video game. 
Now it was something starring Barbie and princesses, and there was a lot of
3D dancing and flowers and chirping birds.  A lamp was on across the room,
and Olivia could finally see the figure in the easy chair, now fast asleep.
It was Jeannie, her oldest cousin, and the one who looked the least like
Aunt Jenelle of all the cousins.



   Jeannie's father had been a black man, and the teenager's mixed race was
easily apparent.  Her hair was a dull, light brown, and curly.  Not frizzy,
though, like a lot of the mulatto girls' hair back at the girls' home. 
Jeannie's was clearly a wild head of hair, nonetheless, and it looked like
she didn't much care to mess with it; there were snarls and stray locks
going everywhere, like permanent bedhead.



   Jeannie's sleeping face was beautiful, with high cheekbones and full,
red lips, and a nose covered in dark freckles.  There were more freckles on
her cheeks beneath her eyes, and even more freckles on her arms and legs.
She was tall like Jenelle, and her breasts were nearly as big.  She wore a
spaghetti top like Janelle, too, but with one difference: Jeannie was
pregnant; her belly rose up bare and round, and her shirt was bunched above
it, just beneath her breasts, as if it had utterly given up on ever being
able to stretch downward again.



   Olivia stared, taken by surprise.  She hadn't known her cousin was
knocked up.  But there was no doubt.  "She's seven months," whispered
Josie, who wasn't taking her eyes off the Barbie twirling all around on the
huge TV.  "And it makes her even pissier than usual, so watch out!"



   Jeannie was snoring softly, and she shifted a little in the recliner. 
With a shock, Olivia realized her cousing wasn't wearing any pants - or
panties.  Jeannie was sprawled back in the chair, and her legs were apart
at an angle that let Olivia see fairly well beneath her ballooning abdomen;
she spotted a thick mass of curly brown hair, framed by thighs on either
side that were dusted in dark, small freckles.  The girl stared even more,
forgetting entirely her hunger.  She just stood at the end of the couch and
took in the sight of her nearly-naked cousin, sleeping peacefully next to
her sisters, sexy from head to toe.



   "She don't wear no panties or nothin', neither," whispered Jessie, like
her twin not taking her eyes from the dancing Barbies.  "She says it's too
much of a pain to pull them up and down when she's got to pee so much all
the time."



   "Yeah and plus she don't much like the granny panties that they make for
preggies, anyways," whispered Josie.



   Jessie continued, "She says she don't think it matters, anyways, about
wearing clothes in the house or not.  And Momma don't give a shit.  Not at
all.  Jeannie don't never really even go outside anymore, so she just
covers her tits now to keep 'em from flopping around so much."



   "She's so fuckin' lazy," Josie muttered.



   "Yeah, but don't tell her we said that," Jessie finished, glancing
finally up at Olivia.  Her face brightened.  "Hey, Livvy, you have a nice
bath?"



   Olivia blushed hard, but she managed to smile back.  "Yeah, I'm all
clean now.  And hungry.  You think it's all right if I get a snack."



   Then Julia spoke up for the first time, jumping off the couch and
leaping at Olivia.  She hugged her hard and then stepped back, pulling her
older cousin by the hand after her.  "I'll show you the snacks, Livvy!  We
can dip some Oreos!"



   Soon they were perched at the small kitchen table beyond the living
room, where she and Julia were able to sit shoulder-to-shoulder and see
Johnnie's game while they shared a small pile of Oreos and a big glass of
milk Olivia couldn't help but sigh.



   Julia, who'd never in the years before had very much to say to Olivia,
because she'd always been so little and seemed so shy, leaned away from
Olivia and stared at her, smiling.  "You're happy now, aren't you Livvy?"
she asked.



   Olivia nodded, her mouth full of milky cookie, glad she had an easy
reason not to talk for a while.  It would have been difficult to speak
without sobbing, the lump had risen so quickly in her throat at her
cousin's tender words.



   They went back to eating quietly, and Olivia watched the princesses
dance, sure at last that things would really be all right.



   * * *



   The day Olivia arrived at her Aunt Jenelle's was smack in the middle of
summer, and inside the little trailer it had gotten quite hot by the time
the sun began to sink beyond the treeline at the far end of the pasture
across the road.  There were two window-mounted air conditioners - one in
the kitchen and one at the opposite end of the trailer, in Janelle's
bedroom, but neither of them were enough to cool off that metal box.  Not,
at least, with Olivia crammed inside it with six other females, and all of
them seeming to take turns making Olivia hot in an entirely other way.



   Olivia, though only twelve, was completely aware of her attractions. 
Whether or not it was her mother's fault didn't really worry her.  Her mom
had always liked other women and hadn't been shy or apologetic about it in
the least.  Olivia remembered from her earliest days watching her mother
make love to other women, and by the time she'd begun to get included in
all of it, to Olivia is seemed like the most natural thing in the world. 
And it felt so good!



   A few years worth of schooling, however, made her begin to think that
she was not as normal as she'd first assumed.  Even as she learned about
cooties and watched girls blush their secrets behind little huddles about
which boy they'd held hands with or which boy they'd let kiss their cheek
or see their privates, Olivia still had to spend quite a lot of time
working out that cooties from girl-to-girl or from boy-to-boy were never a
worry for an entirely different reason than she'd originally assumed.



   Here theory had been: why worry about cooties from girl-to-girl when
girls were supposed to touch each other and kiss each other and lick each
other's privates?  It was going and doing all that with boys that was the
danger!  Nothing between girls could ever be bad, that's what Olivia had
believed.



   Then, in second grade, she tried to kiss another girl at recess, out
beyond the blacktop, behind a big oak tree.  The girl let her, but not for
long, standing still and silent as Olivia pressed her parted lips against
the girl's face.  She flicked her tongue against the tight seam of the
other girl's lips until it was clear there couldn't be anything good about
that kiss.  By the end of the day Olivia was in the principal's office, and
her mother was sitting beside her, squeezing her hand so tightly, begging
the principal to forgive her little girl.



   "She just doesn't understand about these things yet," her mother
pleaded. "Please blame me, not her.  I haven't done a good job telling her
the birds and the bees."



   "Birds and bees?!" the principal fumed.  She was a grandmotherly woman,
large and huffy, and Olivia had half-expected to see a rolling pin emerge
at any moment, swinging for their heads.  "This isn't birds and bees, Ms.
Palmer!  This is birds and birds!  This is something else entirely!"



   The next day Olivia and her mother began living under a new set of
rules.



   "I didn't think you'd be such a little fool to try something like that
at school, Livvy!" her mother had scolded her.  "Not when you're barely
eight!"



   "But Mommy, it's what you do all the time!" Olivia had countered.  "I
didn't know it was bad!  I didn't!"



   "It's NOT bad!" her mother had cried, grasping Olivia by the shoulders
and staring hard at her.  "But there is to be no kissing for little girls
at school.  Do you hear?  That is against the rules at school, all the way
until all your school is done.  That's simply not the place to do that
stuff.  So don't!"



   "But what if I kiss birds-with-bees instead?" the girl asked.



   "Not even that!" Her mother smiled then, pulling her into a soft, long
hug.  "Not even if he begs you, sweetie.  School is not the place for
birds-with-anybody."



   "So...  at sleepovers then?  Is that OK?"



   Her mother had laughed at that and tousled Olivia's dark hair.  "You
ninny!  Did you like kissing that girl that much?"



   Olivia remembered vividly how tight her chest had felt then, how
desperate and sad she suddenly became at the thought that a whole world of
kissing and touching would be taken away from her.  She was afraid of what
her mother was going to say, but she answered honestly anyway.



   "Oh, Mommy, I did like it!  I more than liked it!  It was almost as good
as kissing you!  Can I please please please keep kissing girls if I only
kiss them away from school, like at my house or at the movies or the mall
or something?  Please?!"



   Olivia's mother had grinned, then, and said, "Well, maybe, as long as I
get to meet the girl first and get to know her and her family a little...
and, well..." she'd leaned in and kissed Olivia then, a short, soft kiss
with only a little tongue.  "As long you think Mommy still kisses the
best..." and another kiss then, longer, deeper, until Olivia was nearly
melted through.  "I guess I won't mind."



   The focus, then, during those next few weeks, had been to find any girl
in her class who would want to come over to her house and kiss her.  There
was one girl, a slightly chubby, sweet kid named Alicia, who was happy to
make new friends with Olivia and showed no interest at all in boys.  But
when Olivia had told her mother that Alicia's father was a minister, that
was the end of that.  For the whole rest of the school year, not one single
other prospect could be found.



   With boys, though, it had been a little different.  A middle school kid
in her neighborhood had begun to come around their house in the afternoons,
while Olivia's mother was still at work.  He was a seventh grader, just
beginning to get zits, with a croaky voice and never wearing enough
deoderant.  He'd ride his bike into Olivia's driveway and talk with her. 
Usually Olivia had liked doing her homework while swinging on the front
porch, watching the occasional cars going by in her neighborhood, waving at
the old lady next door tending her roses, listening to the sounds of things
flying around from tree to tree, flower to flower.  She began to like
listening to this boy, too; much to her surprise.  But he said the nicest
things.



   "You're the prettiest girl in the neighborhood, you know," he'd tell
her. He often brought her little gifts, and the first time he'd told her
that he'd just handed her a shoebox filled with baseball cards.  "There
ain't much in there worth a lot, but I figured you'd like it," he'd said.
"And I got more I can bring you, too."



   Eventually her mother began to notice the new accumulation of boy things
in Olivia's room.  "Why do you have a shot-up milk carton, Livvy?  Are
those bb's rattling around in there?  Are you shooting a gun after school
with somebody?!" She was made to round up all the gifts she'd received -
even the old soccer ball he'd given her, which she had particularly liked -
and one evening her mother drove off farther into the neighborhood with
her, scouting for this boy until Olivia spotted him in a driveway, helping
his mother take in groceries.



   Olivia had remained in the car while her mother took the box full of
items up to the boy's mother and set it at her feet.  The woman gave her
grocery bag to her son while she bent to inspect the box, looking up
occasionally while Olivia's mother talked.  The girl couldn't hear what was
said, but suddenly the other mom had looked hard at the car and at Olivia's
little face peering out.  In shock and fear, the woman had straightened up,
turned on her son - who was still obediently standing by, though now quite
pale - and she slapped him hard across the mouth.  He cried out and dropped
the groceries as his mother continued to hit him repeatedly.  A grapefruit
rolled all the way back down the driveway and across the road before she
stopped, standing over the boy, screaming at him.  He'd fallen to the
concrete, shielding his head, crying.



   By the time Olivia's mom had returned to the car, the other mother had
made her son go inside; she ended up just standing there, empty-handed and
panting, alone by the open garage door, staring blankly at the capsized
mess of groceries on the driveway in front of her.



   "He won't come bothering you again, Livvy," her mother had said as they
drove away.  "Don't worry."



   Yet Olivia had gone blank as well.  "But Mommy," she'd said, "He
promised he would kiss my pussy on my birthday!"



   Thus had begun a whole new set of rules.  Kissing was for
girls-with-girls.  Absoluetly only.  So was licking privates and everything
else.  No boys.  No boys.  No boys.  And homework was to be done inside,
from that day forward.  No going outside at all until Mommy came home.



   "Boys are just more trouble than they're worth, sweetie," her mom had
declared.  "The only thing they have that's worth anything to a girl is not
one bit better than what a girl can get from any old grocery store.  And
besides, when you grow up you can just do what Mommy does, and use a little
girl's hand...."



   Olivia's mother stopped bringing home other women by the time the next
school year was over.  "You're grown up enough now, Livvy, to be all the
woman I need!" her mother had told her that summer before fourth grade. 
"Would you like to be Mommy's all-the-time girlfriend?"



   Olivia, of course, had squealed "YES!" and thrown herself into her
mother's laughing embrace.



   Then, little more than a year later, her mother was arrested.  Olivia
discovered that her mother, who was a nurse for a local family doctor, had
been caught nude in an examination room with a sixteen year-old girl, a
volleyball player for the high school school who had come for her annual
physical.  They'd been locked on each other's pussies when another nurse
had barged in unexpectedly.



   By the end of that horrible day, Olivia was staying with the first of
her nine temporary foster families.  It took nine until Mr.  Bowens got her
case and realized the girl wouldn't begin to eat or function normally until
she was completely out of any kind of regular family home.  The pain of
that normalcy had simply been too much for her.  Each new mommy was a new
reminder of the mommy she'd lost.  Each new bedroom was a reminder of the
big bed with her mommy that she was never allowed to share again.



   The state, of course, had completely forbidden all face-to-face meetings
between Olivia and her mother, at least until after the trial and
sentencing were finished.  Her mother's lawyer had brought her the pretty
pink dress for her one day in court, telling her how her mother had spent a
long time on the lawyer's computer searching for just the right one.  Then
in court her mother could only stare with wide, weeping eyes as Olivia lied
over and over again about whether or not her mother had ever touched her,
ever kissed her, ever made her privates melt and flow with a love ten
trillion times better than the brightest heaven.



   They did meet, then, just once, on the day that her mother was set to
move from the county jail to the state penitentiary two hundred miles away.
Mr.  Bowens was there, and so was her mother's lawyer, a chubby woman in
her forties who bullied Mr.  Bowens back out of the room.  His protests
were drowned out by the lawyer's throaty declarations of the girl's safety.
"You heard her in court, sir!" the woman bellowed.  "Her mother has never
touched her like that!  Dammit!  Don't you have a heart?  Give a mother one
small moment to be with her child!"



   With Mr.  Bowens and a guard peering in through the window in the tiny
holding room's door, Olivia finally got the chance to feel her mother's
arms around her again, to be held close.  As they wept and clung to each
other, not speaking, her mother's hand kept a steady soft rhythm against
her hair, smoothing it over and over.  Neither could speak, even when they
pulled apart and stared into each other's eyes for minutes on end.



   Olivia had wanted to ask her why some other girl had made her do such
silly things in such a dangerous place to do them, and she'd wanted to know
if that other girl had been her mother's secret girlfriend, if Olivia had
done something wrong and had lost her mother's love.  But she couldn't. 
Staring straight at the fact that her mother was about to leave her for a
very long time, Olivia realized that she didn't care about that other girl.
She knew her mother still loved her.  She knew her mother had just messed
up.  That was all.  God, how it was going to hurt them both.  And for so
long!



   Finally, her mother had pulled her close for a last, lingering embrace,
and her mouth began to whisper close in Olivia's ear.  The thrill of that
warm breath on her hair and skin sent shivers of lust through the girl, and
despite her gnawing sadness, despite the terror of knowing her mother was
going away to a horrible prison, Olivia moaned and squeezed her eyes shut
and wished that, just one more time, she could feel her mother's mouth on
her little pussy, to ride her mother's tongue as it squirmed its way up
inside her tiny, tight little holes.



   "You be good for whoever is taking care of you, all right?  And you be
good in school.  If anyone makes fun of you, just let them.  Don't worry
about it.  You getting into trouble over it will just break my heart, do
you hear?"



   Olivia just kept her eyes shut and nodded, clutching at her mother's
ugly orange jumpsuit with all her strength.



   "And if it all works out and your Aunt Jenelle can ever keep you, make
sure you give her every bit of your love and not one ounce of trouble, OK?
She'll have a lot of kids to handle anyway, and you don't want to make
things hard on her, too.  Besides Miss Cathy, she's all you and I've got.
Remember that."



   Olivia had managed a weak "OK" just before her mother went on.



   "Cathy's got something for you for later, so don't you forget to ask her
about it.  Don't ask her yet, just wait a little while.  That Mr.  Bowens
is too touchy for her to give it to you out in the open, so be patient.  I
want to explain so many things to you right now, you know, but I can't! 
Just wait on Miss Cathy to choose the right time, and you'll understand
things a lot better.  You'll see!"



   Olivia asked if the lawyer's name was Miss Cathy, and it was, of course.
Funny that her mother hadn't called her Ms.  Stevenson, like the judge and
Mr.  Bowens, but the girl guessed it was OK to use first names if the
lawyer was your own.



   "I've appointed her to be your temporary guardian until your Aunt
Jenelle can get you, sweetie," her mother had finally said.  "But you can't
stay with her.  That would be risky, we think.  But she'll watch over your
situation with everything she's got.  Don't worry.  So just hang in there.
It's going to be the girls' home until Jenelle's, all right?"



   Then, all too soon, she was gone.  Olivia was steered out of the little
room by bland Mr.  Bowens, and Miss Cathy had to jump in to hold her mother
back as the door was beginning to close, blocking back the guard who rushed
in to subdue her.



   "I love you, Livvy!  I'm so sorry!  I'm so sorry, baby!"



   Those were the last words Olivia heard of her mother's until five months
later, when Mr.  Bowens finally allowed Miss Cathy to take Olivia out for
dinner and a movie, just the two of them.  Not more than ten words were
exchanged between the two the whole time, but it had been nice, all the
same.  The older lady had simply gazed at the little girl with big, watery
eyes, obviously taking great pity on her, and Olivia had sat quietly and
eaten the food and watched to movie, happy to be away from her usual
state-mandated life.



   As they'd climbed back into Miss Cathy's Grand Cherokee after the movie,
Olivia finally felt like she had to ask.



   "I'm sorry, Miss Cathy, but is there anything my Mommy wanted you to
give me?"



   And there was.  Miss Cathy silently handed her mini tape recorder,
pressing play as it passed into the little girl's hands.



   The voice was her mother's, full of emotion:



   Oh, Livvy, I'm so sorry for what I've gotten us into!  I'm so sorry.  I
know you must think I don't love you, doing what did with that other girl,
but it's just because Mommy is so stupid and weak.

   ...Angie'd been a patient of my doctor's since she was your age, and
with every new year she was more and more beautiful.  She had dark hair and
was tall and thin and smart, and she looked so much like you.  I wanted to
eat her up every time I saw her.  Once she got to middle school and then
high school she wasn't sick so much, so I really only saw her the last
couple of years during her physical.  If she didn't get that, then she
couldn't play sports at the school.  So the time before this last one I did
all sorts of complimenting of her and flirting with her, just to see how
she'd react.  I was thinking she could come home and play with us sometime,
you know.

   ...Yes, don't worry, Miss Cathy knows every bit of the truth.  You don't
have to worry about her hearing this.  She and I have worked out an
understanding about certain things, OK?

   ...Anyway, that time before last had been the first time Angie had come
to us without her mother sitting in the room with her.  So when I did the
usual examination I made sure to add some new procedures, telling her this
was the all star treatment.  That time it was only me eating her, but she
really liked it.  And she tasted so nice!  I'm sorry, sweetie, but she did.

   ...So I'm sorry to tell you, but I started seeing Angie a lot after
that. For about five months.  Remember when I said the doctor was putting
me on extra hours?  It wasn't true.  I was driving to meet Angie down the
road from her house, before she'd get back from her volleyball practice. 
We'd make love in my car or in this little hotel I'd begun making payments
to, and I started to teach her a few things that she really liked.

   ...I'd told her that I had a daughter that looked just like her, but I
didn't tell her what you and I did.  I was trying to lead up to that.  I'd
wanted to show her your picture and to ask her if she'd ever fantasized
about making love to a ten-and-a-half year-old little girl.  But then we
broke up.  Just like that.  So it was really lucky she hadn't known about
you and I.  You'd never have been able to lie like that at the trial.  And
you did so good!  I was so proud of you!  And my sentence would have been a
whole lot worse, Miss Cathy tells me.

   ...When she dumped me, Angie said I was too old for her and that she had
a new girlfriend at school.  And I was like a sick puppy for so long!  I
went by to try and find her for several weeks, but Angie wasn't walking
home from practice anymore.  I went by her house a lot, too, and I finally
saw her getting out of another girl's car.  A girl who was probably a
junior or senior, definitely a bit older than Angie, and very pretty,
really.  Angie saw me and pointed, saying something to her friend - and it
had to be her new girlfriend because she jumped up out of her Kia and had
shouted 'dyke bitch!' at me and flipped me the bird.

   ...So I knew that was really over.  I stopped working those extra hours.
Remember?  That was also when I started letting you tie me up.  Remember?
Remember hitting me with that belt?  And the candles and the clothespins?
And those needles?  I imagined you were punishing me for what I did.  That
you were making me pay.  It helped me get over her.  Remember how I used to
beg you to hit me harder?  How we bought those special things on the
Internet?  God.  And that cane we got from the garden center that time? 
Remember that?  Oh, those months were great, sweetie.  I really needed it
like that, believe me.  Sometimes I'm sorry we stopped it, you know?  Did
you ever miss it, after we stopped?

   ...Anyway, all of a sudden it's the next year and time for physicals and
Angie walks in.  Right away we're kissing, without even saying a word, and
within maybe five minutes it's over.  I was caught and it was all ...  well
...  God ...  it's all over.

   ...I'm so sorry, sweetie, that I messed things up like this!  I love you
so much, and I don't want you to hate me!  If I can get parole at five
years, like Cathy says I might, will you still want me?  Will you take me
back?

   ...But I can't tell you how you should or shouldn't feel.  You might
really hate me now.  You might not ever want me back.  And I can't tell you
what to do.  I have to trust Miss Cathy and your Aunt Jenelle to watch over
you and help you when they can.  Just be smart.  Don't let our troubles get
you into more trouble, OK?  Even if you do hate me, and even if you never
want me in your life again.  Don't ruin yourself just because your mom is a
stupid lesbian whore.

   ...And if you want a girlfriend or two while we're apart - of course,
sweetie, I don't mind!  Really.  I want you to.  Just be smart and not let
it get you into trouble, all right?  I mean, don't waste these fun years of
being a kid by sitting around moping and waiting for washed up old me.  God
knows I won't be allowed to wait on you.  I'm sorry to tell you this way,
but Miss Cathy can tell you it's true - women here in jail don't get much
chance to say 'no' about those things.  If you're wanted for sex, you have
the sex.  Otherwise I get beaten up pretty badly.  So I'm sorry.  Mommy's
going to have to do things while we're apart, whether I want to or not.

   ...That's all I can think to say for now.  So hang in there and be
strong and smart.  I know the state people like Mr.  Bowens will read
through any letters or whatever that I might want to send, so I'll only
write or tape things that I can give straight to Miss Cathy to give to you.
That means I can't communicate with you much, but it's better than nothing!
And maybe if we're really lucky the state will let you visit me within a
year or two.  That would be so great!

   ...I love you, Olivia!  So much!  I LOVE YOU!!!



   As her first evening in Aunt Jenelle's trailer began, Olivia simply had
to get out of that living room for a while, away from all the sights and
smells of her cousins that were arousing her so much.  She snuck the mini
recorder into the bathroom with her and replayed it quietly, making sure.
It was definitely OK if she made love to her cousins.  It was definitely OK
if she made love to her Aunt Jenelle.  Her mother said so.  And her mother
was apparently having some kind of sex of her own, after all.



   There was a long-handled hairbrush on the bathroom counter, and Olivia
couldn't resist.  Lying naked on her side, the girl licked all over the
handle and then slowly, gently worked its full length into her ass.  It
took her several minutes to work it out, but finally she was on her back,
her heels scooched in to hold the brush in place, while her pelvis rocked
up and down.  With one hand on her pussy and the other working on her
nipples, it was almost impossible to stifle her moans.  But she did it. 
Kicking up one foot to flush the toilet helped, too, right at the crucial
moment.



   * * *



   Olivia had just hidden the micro recorder in the back of one of her new
dresser drawers when Julia came rushing into the bedroom.  Being just nine,
she was quite a bit shorter than Olivia; as Olivia turned to face her, the
younger girl had trouble hitting the brakes, and she bumped, face-first
into Olivia's tender chest.



   They tumbled onto Julia's bed in a knot of out-flung arms and skidding
heels and shrieks of surprise.



   "Sorry!  Geez!  My bad!" Julia squeaked, popping back up in an instant.
Olivia was slower to rise, rubbing at the bruise that was sure to start
purpling soon on her sore left tit.



   "It's OK, Julia, I'm all right," Olivia laughed.  Sometimes getting
scared like that could make her pussy heat up in the funniest way, and she
didn't mind it.



   Julia was almost completely out of breath.  It took her a moment to
steady herself and speak again.  "I got to bring you to Jessie and Josie.
They're waiting outside."



   Olivia's stomach lurched.  Her panties felt like they were flooding, she
was suddenly horny all over again.  Jessie must've really meant what she'd
said when she'd peeped at her in the bathroom!  She and Josie really did
have some sort of sexy plan cooked up!



   The two girls ran barefoot down the hall to leave.  Johnnie was in her
usual spot, playing something on the Playstation, while Jeannie scowled
from the easy chair, still sprawled and pantiless.  "Hey, ya' little cunts,
where the fuck ya' goin' in such a loud fuckin' hurry?!" The shout from
Jeannie startled Johnnie so much that she paused her game and looked up. 
Olivia had to hide her smirk as she saw a thin stream of drool running down
out of one corner of Johnnie's half-open mouth.



   "Well, Jeannie, it's secret," said Julia, very patiently.  "If I told
you, then you'd cuss about it somehow and the whole world would know.  And
I swore to keep the secret, you see?"



   "What the FUCK does that mean?" Jeannie roared.  Grunting, shifting, the
teenager tried to get her pregnant body up out of her chair; but there was
simply too much in the way of repositioning required, and she quickly gave
up trying.  "God-DAMN-IT!  I hate this fucking chair!"



   But Julia was already pulling Olivia out the door and down the steps. 
By the time Jeannie had roared "chair!" the screen door had already
slammed, and two girls were racing through the twilight.  Olivia didn't
know where they were going, of course, but she very much liked the feel of
Julia's little hand in hers, and the little girl's thin body was only
barely covered by an old tank top and some shorts she'd outgrown probably
the summer before.  Olivia began to wonder if Julia would be involved in
the evening's plan as well.



   There were three rows of mobile homes - seven to a row - that the girls
passed through before they got to the laundry room.  It was the only
site-built structure in the park, with a concrete foundation, cinderblock
walls painted pale yellow, and a sturdily-trussed roof.  The back half
contained a unisex gang bathroom, complete with two sinks, two shower
stalls, and two toilets.  The front half, of course, contained the washers
and dryers.  Aunt Janelle was just coming out of the doorway with a basket
full of folded clothes as the girls charged by.



   "Hey, ladies, where're you headed so late?" she called.  Julia instantly
stopped, turned, and ran them back to speak with her mother.  She smiled so
brightly whenever she spoke to Janelle.  It reminded Olivia almost
painfully of how she'd always felt whenever she'd spoken with her mother,
too.



   "Momma!  Sorry!  I'm on a secret mission to take Olivia to where Jessie
and Josie are, so I can't stop and talk right now." Still holding Olivia's
hand, she raised her other to her face and whispered behind it to her
mother; she was too out of breath to make it quiet enough, though, so
Olivia heard every word: "We're just going down to the creek house so the
twins can show you-know-what to Livvy, that's all.  They thought she'd like
that.  Don't you?  And they got flashlights, too, Momma.  They said to tell
you that if I saw you." Janelle smiled in her little crooked way, but she
didn't say a word.  Hefting the laundry basket into a better grip, she
simply shrugged and turned for home.



   "See you later, Momma!" Julia called out as they started running again.
"I'll make sure we come back soon, don't worry!"



   "I know you will, baby," Janelle called out in reply.  But the girls
were already two more rows gone, and Olivia barely heard it.



   Four rows later, the trailer park ended.  A wide, shallow creek ran
through a cut in the landscape, marking the border of Janelle's trailer
park empire.  On the other side was a wall of maples, elms, and oaks;
beyond that by maybe half a mile was a major highway.  Through the trees
and above the quiet plinkings of the creek, Olivia could faintly hear the
sounds of many vehicles speeding across asphalt to wherever the drivers
wanted to go.



   The angle down to the creek bank wasn't too steep, and the path Julia
took them on was well-worn and easy.  All the major rocks and sticks were
long gone, so it was mostly a matter of sliding in that easy kids' way down
the loosely-graveled grass until they were standing upon the cold sandy
creekside.



   "Here, come on," Julia said, still pulling on Olivia's hand.  They
didn't cross the creek, but instead went along parallel to it for a few
hundred yards, until the cut and the creek both widened into a sizeable
pond.  There was a small, low dam at the far end, with one gate that was
only two feet across and made of plywood, part-way shoved down into grooves
made into the concrete.  Olivia could tell from where she stood a hundred
feet away that the kids of the trailer park could probably pull that board
up single-handedly.



   "This is Creek Lake, Livvy!" Julia chirped, pulling her along the bank,
around toward the far side and that dimnutive dam.  "The hill starts down
just on the other side of here, and Momma when she was little got her daddy
to stop it up right here so she could have a place to fish.  Isn't is
nice?"



   The water wasn't very deep, from what Olivia could tell.  She didn't
know anything about fishing, but she could see some rather large things
moving around just beneath the surface in the thin light still reflecting
from high up in the clouds.  "Probably fun to fish here, yeah," Olivia
volunteered, trying to keep her footing along the mucky, weedy trail.  They
were soon splattered in mud up to their thighs, but Julia kept pulling her
along at a clumsy, rapid pace.  "If we're late, the twins'll kill me,
Livvy. Come on!" So they hurried and their feet flung mud like crazy.  But
Olivia didn't really mind.  She was too excited and out of breath and
curious to care.



   "Here we are!" Julia sang, stopping them so suddenly that Olivia bumped
into her and nearly sent them both face-first into the wet.  They giggled,
straightening, and Julia pointed out a pair of large maple trees a few
dozen feet back from the pond.  They were almost to the far end of it,
nearly to the dinky little dam, and Olivia hadn't noticed until then that
there was a small shack constructed between the trunks of those two big
trees.  Two of the walls of the shack, in fact, were the living sides of
the trees.  It wasn't nearly as deep as it was wide, therefore, but it was
a reasonably secure-looking structure, nonetheless.  The front wall (and
the back, she'd later see) was made with two-by-fours set upon a packed-in
dirt foundation that filled in all the gaps and knotty spots caused by tree
roots.  Mobile home siding was nailed on the outside of the frame, with
small slits gouged into it here and there, Olivia guessed, to serve as
ventilation.  The flat roof was constructed out of mobile home siding
nailed down onto two-by-four crossbeams.



   "How do we get in?" Olivia wondered, but Julia was already pulling her
again.



   "The back, silly!  Come on!"



   On the other side of the shack a small square had been cut out at the
ground, and a heavy rubber mud flap hung down over it.  Julia finally let
go of Olivia and got down on her hands and knees, scuttling her way ahead,
her head butting open the flap as she went forward.  Olivia studied the
smaller girl's narrow hips and ass and dirty little feet as she went along,
sorry there was so little light left for a truly good view.  Then she was
inside, and the flap swung closed.  "Come on, Livvy!" she heard Julia say,
then saw a grimy hand stick out from around the flap, waving her in. 
"You've GOTTA see this!"



   "OK, OK!" Olivia panted, dropping to all fours and butting her way
through the flap.  It was a lot darker and hotter inside than it was out,
but as she slowly got to her feet, Olivia instantly realized that was
mainly because the little shack was crammed full of kid, and they'd killed
all their lights.



   "Is she in?" came Jessie's voice.  She was at least a few feet away, and
Julia and somebody else were inbetween.  "Olivia?" came Josie's voice, that
other body between Olivia and Jessie.  "Are you ready for something fuckin'
crazy?"



   Olivia nearly shouted, "Yes!", and kept a tight hold on both of Julia's
hands.  Julia backed up a little, then, until she was able to lean into
Olivia's taller, stronger body, her smaller, filthy feet nimbly standing on
top of Olivia's.  The older girl felt a new surge of juice run hotly out of
her hole.



   "All right, then, bitches, let's light it up!" Josie cackled and hit the
button on her flashlight.  At the same time, Jessie lit hers.  Both shined
the light on themselves alone, at first.  Both were completely naked,
streaked with mud on their feet and calves, and dusted with dirt from the
shack floor everywhere else.  By the wet reflections of their thighs,
Olivia could tell the twins had already been having a little fun.



   Both girls were grinning, stifling giggles.  Finally, they slowly
lowered their flashlights to the floor between them, and Olivia couldn't
help but cry out, "Woah!"



   A skinny teenaged boy was lying on his back atop a dusty blanket.  He
was naked.  His hands and his feet were tied with ropes to low sturdy nails
that had been driven into the naked frame of the interior walls, the nails
bent up to serve as hooks.  He was stretched to his limit but appeared more
or less comfortable.  His cock stood up from a nest of pubic hair with a
delicious-looking blob of precum oozing out the tip and down its shaft.  He
was blindfolded.  And he was grinning from ear to ear.



   "Cousin Livvy, meet Jimmy Stockton, our slave," declared Jessie.  "He's
fifteen, full of sperm, and ready to give us all babies.  If we let him."
She stepped up and savagely kicked his cock.  Precum flew up and splattered
the wall, and Jimmy grunted but still grinned.  "Right, slave boy?  You
wanna' knock us all up, don'tcha?"



   "Oh, yeah," the boy said, a little hoarse.  By the looks of his dirty,
dusty body, the girls had been kicking him around a lot since they'd gotten
him in there.



   "Jimmy's daddy and our Momma have a little deal, Livvy, so don't worry
nothin' 'bout this, OK?" Josie said.  "It's not like he's really our slave.
Not most of the time, anyways."



   "Yeah," chimed Jessie, "but last school year Jimmy got caught peeping on
us, like, what?  Twenty times?  Finally Momma went to Daddy Stockton and
told him how it was gonna' be."



   Josie nodded.  "Uh-huh.  So we got ourselves a little toy.  Once't a
month.  First Saturday.  Ain't that right, Jimmy?"



   "Yeah, shit yeah," the boy croaked, obviously not at all disappointed in
the arrangements.



   Jessie kicked him again, this time in the balls, and Jimmy yelped in
pain, grinding his teeth.



   "Shut the fuck up with that 'shit yeah' bullshit, slave," Jessie
commanded.  "Or else we'll really start reminding you about the trouble you
and your dog-fucking daddy are going to be in."



   "OK, sorry!" Jimmy groaned, trembling against his bonds.



   "See," said Josie, "Jimmy's daddy fucks this bitch he keeps behind his
trailer down at the end of the last row, back down the far end of the
creek, you know?" Olivia nodded.



   "And Jimmy's daddy gets Jimmy to tape it, and they sell that shit to
people," added Jessie.



   "Yeah, and Jimmy's mom, being all high religious now and divorced from
his daddy and married to a county commissioner and all, well, they used to
tape her fucking their german shepherds," Josie went on.



   "But mommy's support check won't come no more if any of those tapes find
their way to the newspapers or TV stations, will they?" Jessie finished,
kicking Jimmy's rigid dick again.



   "But Jimmy!" Julia piped up, "Tell her about Jimmy!  It's the best
part!"



   "Yeah," Josie said.  "Well, see Jimmy's doing his mom's part now."



   "He's getting fucked by those dogs in his scrawny redneck ass!" Jessie
crowed.  "Ain't that a fuckin' trip?"



   "His daddy sells more tapes of Jimmy getting it than he ever did of
himself or Jimmy's momma," growled Josie, "so he don't want that little
bunch of money slipping away either."



   "But your momma's a damn whore!" Jimmy shouted, still rock-hard but
obviously embarassed.  "And your sister, too, that half-nigger bitch!  My
daddy'll turn 'em in any day now, you fuckin' wait and see!"



   "Shut up!" Jessie and Josie both screamed.  Jessie stomped the boy on
his flat gut, while Josie spent several seconds driving her heel into face.
Jimmy's nose began to bleed, and he was groaning, crying, telling them he
was sorry, begging them to let him go home.



   "Don't fuckin' care, slave," Jessie muttered.  "Yer dick's still as hard
as ever.  That tells a different story, don't it?"



   "As for Momma and Jeannie," Josie grinned, winking over at Olivia and
Julia, "Since the one or both of them fuck your momma's new husband about
once a week now, I don't think they got too much to fear from you."



   "And the sheriff..." Jessie said, her flashlight wobbling as she used it
to tap off fingers on her other hand.  "...And all the deputies...  and
Judge Abernathy...  and-"



   "And the whole damn town, those fuckin' whores!" Jimmy spluttered, but
without much conviction.  He was in too much pain.  He was frustrated and
hurt and ashamed, and his cock was still standing up tall and proud,
pointing straight at the corrugated ceiling.



   "Yeah, fuckin' whores, who cares?" Josie snorted.  "Way we see it..."



   "Somebody's gotta be," Jessie declared.  "That's the way it works,
slave."



   "There's gotta be whores," Josie snarled, leaning down over Jimmy's
face, working her mouth.



   "And there's gotta be slaves," Jessie howled, landing one more good kick
across the fat middle of the boy's cock.  He cried out again in pain.  As
soon as his mouth opened, Josie hawked and spit a huge loogie straight into
his throat.



   Jimmy choked and spluttered, heaving, and puked straight up into the
air. The four girls screamed and covered their heads, but it did little
good.  The boy's dinner was back up, blasting against the low ceiling.  It
splattered all over the place, all over himself, all over them.



   "What the fuck?  Spaghetti-o's?!" Josie laughed, wiping her face off and
grinning down at the bloodied, puke-covered teenager.  "God!  How much did
you eat?"



   "Two cans," the boy moaned miserably, turning his head to the side and
spitting repeatedly.



   Josie, who got some in her eye, was rubbing furiously at it.  But she
was laughing too.  "Ah-ha!  We got you good that time, Jimmy!  Didn't we?"



   Olivia was confused.  The twins should've been more angry at the boy
than ever, but it was like some little scene was finally finished.  Julia,
wiping the puke off her face with the hem of her little shirt, said simply,
"They did it, all right."



   "Wha-?" Olivia began, but Jimmy cut in.



   "I gotta either puke or piss or shit myself before they let me fuck
'em."



   "Yeah," giggled Jessie, leaning over Jimmy's crotch with a plastic
bottle of water.  "Usually he can't ever piss himself, since his dick stays
so hard..."



   "And he takes fucking forever to push out a turd," Josie complained. 
Jessie poured the water suddenly over Jimmy's cock and balls.  The boy
jerked and yelped and grinned.  Jessie was cleaning him off with a towel
that had been hanging from a nail behind her.



   "So usually it's us sticking our fingers down his throat or pissing or
shitting on his face to make him puke," Jessie said distractedly, setting
aside the bottle and the towel and straddling the boy's hips.



   "But why?" Olivia wondered.



   "Why the fuck not?" Josie chuckled.



   "Yeah," Jessie agreed, bouncing in mid-crouch as she looked up at her
cousin.  "It's just a game we play, you know.  Just to have more fun with
our little slavie." She motioned for Josie, and the twin crouched down to
help her guide the cock to the right hole.  She tossed her flashlight to
Julia, who kept a bead on Jimmy's drooling dick.  Jessie had turned around
to face his feet, and she flung back her hands to spread open her ass.  "We
only give this boy the back hole," she muttered, concentrating on her
balance.



   "Or else we'd be as fuckin' knocked up as Jeannie by now!" Josie
laughed.



   "Oh, wow," Olivia murmured.  "How in the world does it ever fit in
there?" His penis looked huge against the tiny pink crinkle of Jessie's
asshole.



   "Don't worry," Julia told her.  "It does.  Just watch."



   It took nearly five minutes of grunting, groaning, and slowly lowering
herself, but finally Jessie was fully impaled and sittle atop Jimmy's hairy
crotch.



   "Ahhh, that's nice," she crooned.  Soon she was rocking back and forth,
and soon after that she was bouncing higher and higher.



   "It- feels- like- you- need- to- take- the- big- gest- shit- ev- ver!"
Jessie panted, leaning forward and bracing her hands on the boy's shivering
legs.  Josie, meanwhile, had taken the water and the towel and had gently
cleaned off the boy's face, making sure not to start his nose bleeding
again.  Then she straddled his head and lowered herself onto his waiting
mouth.



   "Now, slave, lick my pussy good, but get my asshole ready, too," she
ordered the grunting teenager.  "I want lots of that long redneck tongue up
my hot little shit hole, understand."



   Jimmy mumbled a "Yes, ma'am" from deep inside Josie's ass crack, and
then the girl proceeded to gyrate lewdly upon his muzzle.



   "That," she sighed, "feels sooooo nice."



   Olivia was so wet that, despite the stink of Jimmy's puke and the reek
from his and her cousin's crotches, the girl was positive she could smell
her own cunt.  She was dying to touch it.  It was just too much not to. 
And what would they all care, anyway, with what they were doing right there
in front of her?



   Just then Julia turned, dropping the flashlight to the dusty floor, and
yanked up Olivia's shirt.  Her mouth fastened upon the older girl's puffy,
bruised nipple, while a hand began tweaking the other.  Olivia mewed in
shock and pleasure, leaning back against the trunk of the tree, steadying
herself against the girl's weight with her hands outstretched against the
naked frame of the walls.  Julia's other hand was soon at work in Olivia's
panties, digging fingers into her sloppy, open pussy, quickly finding her
clit and stroking it deliciously up and down and all around.



   "I want to eat you, please," Julia finally said, detaching her mouth
from Olivia's throbbing breast and dropping to her knees.  "May I?"



   Olivia laughed and hastily pulled down her shorts and panties.  "Yeah,
do it!" she urged, as Julia swept the clothes away from her rapidly
spreading feet, giving the younger girl a good angle for her tongue.  "Fuck
me with your face, Julia!  Oh God!"



   For the first time since her mother was arrested, Olivia was completely
in her own world, not thinking about her mother at all.  Later that night,
ashamed, weeping silently as she fell asleep in the narrow trailer bed,
with Julia snuggled close in her arms, Olivia had to admit it was probably
the strongest she'd ever come in her life.



   [End of Day 1]



   ***************************



   by bluepervina, ?  2008



   Your feedback is welcomed!



   bluepervina [AT] gmail [DOT] com

   or
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/bluepervina/www/bp2contact.html
http://bluepervina.blogspot.com/


   
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