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Subject: {ASSM} Demeter's Pet {Varkel} [5/19](MF Mf Mg mF mf mg Fm Fb Mm Mb mb bb oral anal pedo fantasy 
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Date: Thu, 06 Nov 2008 22:10:02 -0500
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Demeter's Pet
a Novel by Varkel
Spring, 2008


Chapter 5: _Return to the Human Preserve_


"Good-bye for a while," Sam said, looking up from the hard couch.  
Pester had stuffed pillows under his head and the small of his back.

The nymph bit her lip and shuffled her feet.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing ever happens here."  She asked hopefully, "Would you let me tag
along?  I might be able to help you."

"Help me?"  He sniffed.  "By looking over my shoulder?"

"Please, Sam.  I won't joggle your elbow.  I can't."

"Don't you have several people here to look after?"

"What 'look after?'  They just lie there.  I _know_ what you do will be
exciting."

He sighed.  "All right.  If you want to be a fly on the wall, I guess 
it's okay."

"What's a fly?"


* * *


He began by concentrating on the jail's holding tank, the last thing he
recalled from Earth.  His consciousness swooped and expanded until his 
mind's eye could see the crowded ruffians in their orange suits and the
nude body on the floor beyond the stack of bare iron beds.  He stared in
horror at the scene, recognizing the body only too well.  One man had 
pulled the naked buttocks up into his kneeling thighs.  His hips worked
vigorously.  Another, similarly positioned at the body's other end, held
up its bloody head to fuck the mouth.

Sam counted 23 still-living men.  Many cheered the fuckers on.  A few 
lounged near the action with jail suits open and cocks in stroking 
hands.  Some ignored the gory spectacle at their feet.  A single large 
man with long black hair stood over the body, hands on hips, calling 
loudly, "Come on, you assholes.  Get yourself a piece of this shit."  
This was the man who had smashed Sam's face.

Attention wandering from man to man, Sam settled at last on one who 
stood back in a corner, his face turned away, shod with heavy work boots
instead of sneakers.  Sam slipped into the strange mind, grasping for 
the levers of control.  They were very different, less prominent though
stronger, than those of Pester's mind, but even easier to capture.  This
man had not participated in the defilement.  His disgust was apparent, 
along with his fear of similar treatment if he did not eventually 
participate.  Sam put the mind to sleep.

The big man turned slowly, gaze flicking from one man to the other, 
including Sam in the corner.  But seeing nothing remarkable, his eye did
not linger.  He looked down at the corpse twitching under the dual 
assault.  "One thing's for sure: this one has fucked his last kid."

Someone in the crowd said, "Getting what he deserved."

Eventually, when no other taker stepped forward, the big man said, 
"Okay.  Time to call the screws."  He went to the bars, cupped hands 
around his mouth and shouted, "Dead man in the tank, dead man in the 
tank!"

The crowd waited silently.  A door opened with a clang at the other end
of the corridor and booted footsteps approached.  Sam recognized the 
jailer who had put him in this cage, who had admonished the crowd, "Take
care of him, will you?"  Now Sam's eyes hardened with decision.

The jailer, a stout, red-faced man in his fifties, paused outside the 
bars, grinning at the body on the floor.  "Fast work!  You sure he's 
dead?"

After a moment's study the jailer answered himself.  "He ain't 
breathing."  His grin took in the entire audience.  "I suppose he dived
off the top bunk and landed on his face, right."

"Pretty close," said the big man with the long black hair.

"And jumped right out of his jump suit, no doubt."  The jailer laughed 
heartily.  "Well, you boys're gonna have to put up with him another 
hour, about, till the deputies get back from supper.  Push him over 
beside the door and throw his coat on him."

Sam could feel the mass of the stout jailer.  He was heavier than Pan, 
but well within the limits of Sam's strength.  His mind pulled sharply.
Suddenly the jailer stood inside the cell in the midst of the crowd of 
prisoners.

The man staggered, looking wildly around.  "Wha-what ..."  His gaze 
fixed on the big man before him.  "What'n hell are you doing?"

The big man's reflexes were fast.  He grabbed the jailer's shoulders, 
spun him around and caught his neck in a one-armed headlock while his 
other hand detached the jailer's truncheon and key ring.  He threw the 
keys to the man nearest the door and screamed, "He ain't got no help!" 
while clubbing his captive solidly in the temple.  When released, the 
jailer sagged to the floor.

Curiously the keys did not fly truly.  They veered past the clutching 
hand of the intended target, passed between two of the bars and landed 
with a jingle outside on the corridor tiles.

"You missed them?" demanded the big man incredulously.  He stepped 
toward the door, truncheon raised.  Sam exerted his full strength, aided
now by a rush of adrenaline, and the man at the door, eyes wide in 
terror, charged forward instead of shrinking back, stumbling as if 
propelled by an invisible force -- the case in fact.  His hard forehead
struck the big man's nose, crushing the bones around it.  Both men 
dropped to the floor as if poleaxed.

Sam exerted himself again and again, throwing men's bodies against each
other.  Thus painfully encouraged, a general melee erupted.  Every other
man in the cage was soon weaving and spinning, throwing punches and 
applying body holds.  Ducking the occasional punch himself, Sam crept up
to the big man and jailer and jumping high, stomped each head with the 
heavy work boots, using all his strength.

A moment later he stood in the admitting room where he had exchanged his
outer clothing for the orange jail suit.  The box containing his 
clothing stood among others on a shelf.  Quickly he swapped.  His own 
familiar clothing was a surprisingly good fit, except for the shoes.  He
put the work boots back on and looked around the street outside with his
mind's eye.

It was suppertime and the sidewalk was empty.  In a flash he stood 
outside at the nearby intersection.  Dusk was falling and the 
streetlight above him had already turned on.  Standing on the empty 
corner, he took time to review his recent actions.  A smile grew from 
ear to ear and satisfaction filled his chest.  Though he had resisted 
the bullies in school, more often than not they'd had their way with 
him.  The absolute nature of his triumph in the holding tank was almost
as thrilling as sex.

_It could've been even stronger, you know._

He recognized Pester's thought.  Her presence in his head did not 
surprise him.  _How?_

_You could've snatched them to your mud pile in Hades and tormented 
them endlessly without interference._

_That's right!  Maybe I still can.

_No, too late.  The two you wanted most are dead._

_Well, I can just go back before --_

_No, you can't.  That would put you in the same time twice._

_Who's going to stop me, you?_

_Me?_  He distinctly felt laughter.  _Even Zeus can't do that.  It's a 
higher law.  Demi says it prevents paradoxes.  I've wondered about that.
What difference would another doxy make?_

_Ha, ha, very funny._

_What will you do next?_

_Go see some people I know._

_That should be interesting._

_I'll show you how tailless people fuck._

_I know how they do it.  They don't concentrate.  Usually they're 
wondering what will happen the next day._

_Hmph!_

A young man had been walking toward Sam but stopped short, unlocked a 
parked car and entered it.  Sam willed himself to step into the car's 
backseat.  To his amazement nothing happened.

_What's wrong?_ he demanded internally.

_With what?  Oh.  You won't fit standing up.  Scrunch down._

He stooped and retried the step, arriving in the backseat upon a jumble
of books just as the lad started the car engine.  He slipped into the 
young man's mind and took control, putting the lad to sleep.  Looking 
around, he spotted a class schedule taped to the dash.  Apparently this
was a college boy with business at the courthouse.  _David Bingham_ was
the name on the schedule's upper right.  Good.  He might not be soon 
missed.

A quick glance to the rear found his previous body sagged in the seat, 
eyes closed, head thrown back, hands fallen open.  He wondered how long
it would remain asleep but refrained from asking Pester.

Driving to his old neighborhood, he turned onto the familiar street.  
His former house appeared to be vacant.  Marcy's car was parked in the 
driveway next door.  He pulled in behind it and got out.  Walking up the
steps, he felt a spring in his step.  This body was young and slim.  He
felt of the chin: clean shaven despite the tickle of hair to his collar.

"Are you selling magazines?" Marcy asked after opening to door to him.
She looked him up and down with approval.

"It's more than that, Marcy."

"You know my name.  Have we met?"

"Oh, yes.  You wouldn't believe how well we've met!"

"You're right, I wouldn't.  How do you know my name?"

He chuckled.  "You won't believe this, but I'm Sam in a different body."

The woman's widened.  "Sam?  Sam who?"

"Sam Dearborn, who else?"

"What sort of horrible prank are you playing, young man?  Is this part 
of some fraternity initiation?"

"I told you it's not readily believable, but I am Sam and I can prove 
it."

"Sam's in jail!"

He decided to agree with her and nodded.  "More or less."

"I can't believe they'd let him out so quick.  That girl died!  Are you
telling me he escaped?"

"No.  I'm telling you he's dead."

"Dead!"

"His Earth human body is dead, but it turns out there are wonderful 
possibilities after death."

"What are you saying?  Are you crazy?"

Marcy had turned pale.  She edged away from the door.

"Not at all, Marcy.  Maybe you ought to think of me as a ghost.  I 
borrowed this body so I could speak with you."

The woman grasped at straws.  "That slutty Gwen put you up to this, 
didn't she?  She's gone away."

"Too bad.  I was hoping to see her too.  May I come in?"

Though approaching hysteria, Marcy had not lost her wits.  She sniffed.
"If you're a ghost, can't you just slide through the wall?"

He nodded, said, "Not a bad idea," and vanished before her.

She gasped, dashed forward and peered around outside.

"In here, Marcy," he called from behind her.

She whirled around.  The young man lounged against the jamb of the door
that opened into her den.

"Oh my god!" Marcy breathed.  She rushed past him and threw herself to a
seat on the couch.  She bounced.

He smiled.  "Is Natty home?"

"What do you know about my Natty?"

A different fear possessed the woman.

"Everything that Sam knows, since I am he."

"Sam's ten years older than you."

He chuckled.  "Not any more.  Shall I tell you a few things Sam 
remembers?  Natty and I fucked.  I ripped her cherry and you were quite
angry about it.  You and I did a lot of the old in-and-out also.  I was
the one who gave you your first real climax.  Our first time was in my 
house next door.  You have a small mole on your left pussy lip and like
to have your womb thumped.  The boyfriend who put Natty into you was 
named Jack.  He ran off because he couldn't take the responsibility.  
Your mother protected you from her boyfriends with a gun."

With a chuckle he fell silent.  Marcy had swooned.


* * *


"It's hard enough for me to accept you as Sam," she said later, after 
she had recovered and they had talked some more, "despite all you know 
about me -- about us.  But the existence of gods on Mount Olympus is 
preposterous."

"How else could I be here, Marcy?"

"I still think this is all a college prank.  You don't look at all like
Sam.  What are you, eighteen?"

"Perhaps.  I don't know how old this body is.  I borrowed it just half 
an hour ago."

"Ridiculous!"

"Do you remember the first time we had anal intercourse?  You told me 
you were offering me your last virginal orifice."

Marcy's jaw droped.  She stared at the good looking young man.

He said, "You told me I could have Natty, if I promised not to leave 
you.  Well, I'm back.  Do you know that exquisitely beautiful girl I was
accused of killing?"

"Yes: Demi."

"Her real name is Demeter.  She's a goddess on Mount Olympus.  She's my
sponsor and protector."

"This is impossible to believe!"

"What will it take, Marcy?  Shall I recount every secret we shared?  You
got knocked up with Natty when you were in high school.  You were 
surprised when your mother was pleased."

"Stop it!  How could you know these things?"

"Because I'm Sam.  He wouldn't have had time to tell me half of it in 
the few hours he's been gone.  There's no other explanation."

"There must be!"  Her eyes narrowed.  "Are you his cousin or something?
Did he tell you all this over the past weeks?  That's it, isn't it?  
Sam's in jail and you think this is your chance to move in."

He coughed.  "That sounds almost reasonable, I admit.  You have a good 
imagination, sweetie.  Let me see.  How's this?  After I started fucking
you up the ass, your farts were lower in pitch."

"Good god!  He could've told you that!"

"Who tells such things about a lover?"

She sighed heavily.  "You can't be Sam."  Yet she sat down beside him on
the couch.

He placed a hand high on her near thigh.

"You're a complete stranger!" she exclaimed, but she did not move her 
leg.

"You're unfamiliar with this body, Marcy, as am I, but I think you're 
beginning to suspect that I'm Sam."

"After he killed that girl, I'm ...  I guess I'm willing to believe 
anything."  Again her eyes narrowed.  "What do you know about that?  Why
did he kill her?  Or did he?"

He grunted.  "That may be the hardest for you to believe, Marcy.  I had
a lot of trouble with it myself.  According to the goddess Demeter, who
is far from dead, believe me! -- I have a talent with something she 
calls the _Climax Spell_.  She reacted to it so strongly that her human
body couldn't stand it and just died when she climaxed."

"Preposterous!"

"Maybe.  I remind you, you never had an orgasm until _my_ cock banged 
you.  After that ...  I frequently pushed that creamy white dildo up 
your ass, Marcy.  It's shaped like a cock and it buzzes.  Then we'd 
fuck.  Remember the time when the batteries failed and you got so upset,
because you were on the verge of coming?"

"You talk cruder than you used to."

"It's the influence of Olympus.  The Greeks don't like Latin."

She shook her head.  "You must be Sam!  Either that or I've gone mad."

"Let's go up to your bedroom, darling.  I'll prove that I'm Sam, however
foreign this body is."


* * *


In the bed room Sam immediately went to Marcy's dresser and retrieved 
the white dildo and a tube of K-Y jelly from the middle drawer.

Marcy shook her head.  "You must be Sam.  But I don't understand how 
you're alive and in another's guy body.  I don't believe that fairy tale
crap of yours."

"I won't mention it again, if you wish.  The important thing is that you
accept me."

"Your voice is different as well as your body, although you speak with 
the same rhythm.  This will take some getting used to."

"Well, Marcy, we have a problem with that.  It wouldn't be fair of me to
keep this body, because its owner has a life of his own.  I'll have to 
give it back in a couple hours or so."

"Give it back?  Then where'll you be then?"

"I've got another one waiting for me in the car."

"That's preposterous!"

"You like that word, huh?"

"Do I understand this correctly, Sam?  I'll be screwing a different guy
each time?"

"It'll always be me, Marcy.  You'll recognize my technique."

"This is beyond weird!"


* * *


They were both eager to examine the lad's body.  They undressed it in 
front of a full-length mirror.  Though slim, it had discernible 
abdominal muscles.  Marcy rubbed her hand over them in appreciation.

"My human form was better hung," Sam said, clasping the cock.  "This is
close to a gay experience.  I'm jacking another guy's dong."

"Can you feel it?" Marcy asked.

"Yes, just as though it were mine.  I can't read his mind, though."

"Where is his mind, Sam?"

"Sleeping.  I didn't want him to remember you."

Naked, they merged atop her bed in their familiar pattern of love 
making.  He impaled her anally while the dildo buzzing in her vagina 
elicited wails and shrieks from her tight throat.  She was as responsive
as the nymphs to his mental urgings and climaxed so often her eyes 
rolled back.  Finally he crawled up the bed and thrust his spurting 
member into her mouth.

"God, Sam!" she cried after a few minutes, licking her lips.  "It's 
really you, only better!"

"Olympus trained me on the Climax Spell."

"I guess they must.  I thought I might die too."

He grinned.  "Did you mind?"

"I loved it!"

After reviewing the exercise, he said, "This kid's climax was different
from mine.  It was more intense and lasted longer."

"I guess only a body snatcher can compare something like that," Marcy 
said.

"A 'body snatcher!'  Huh.  I guess I am.  I have to take the boy back to
where I found him.  Can you explain the situation to Natty before I come
back?"

"She'll think I've gone nuts."

"Please try, Marcy.  She'd freak out, if I presented myself to her the 
way I did to you."

"I freaked out, Sam.  But I'm not ten years old.  When will you be 
back?"

"Pretty soon.  Coming back is instantaneous."


* * *


Sam drove back to where he had found the young man.  His parking place 
was no longer available so Sam parked across the street.  He exited the
young body and reentered the slumped one in the backseat, which snapped
erect.  Opening the door, he exited to the sidewalk -- then smiled at 
using the old method by habit instead of simply _stepping_ from inside 
to outside.

Halfway down the street, he paused, felt for the schoolboy's mind and 
awakened it.  The reaction was amusing.  The lad clutched his groin then
looked at his watch.  Sam distinctly felt his dismay at the realization
that he had blacked out for three hours.  He heard the cry, "God, she'll
kill me!" as if with his own ears.

In an instant Sam stood in Marcy's bedroom.  He heard water falling in 
her adjacent shower.  Stripping naked, he went to the bathroom and 
paused to urinate in the toilet.

She may have seen a shadow through the glazed shower door.  The water 
turned off and he could sense her listening to the fall of his own thick
yellow stream.  "Is ... is that you, Sam?"

Almost reflexively he settled into her mind, taking care not to assume 
control.  He felt her apprehension mixed with a curious attraction, and
realized that the strange-man aspect was stimulating her more than he 
had imagined.

Having departed her mind, he shook off his member and tugged the shower
door open.  "What do you think of this one?"

She blinked, eyes widening in a wet face.  Her round body gleamed in the
bright bathroom light.  Her eyes took in the hairy chest and swelling 
penis.  "You ... are you really ... Sam?"

He laughed.  "Who else could it be?"

"But how ... how did you get in here?"  Her nose wrinkled.  "You smell 
..."  Her voice trailed off.

"Like what?  Like men do in a jailhouse holding tank?"

"Is that where you got him?"

"Yeah.  He was watching while 22 others fucked my corpse."

"Sam!  That's terrible!  Who is he?"

"Yeah, it was terrible.  I didn't catch his name.  Turn the water back 
on and I'll improve his odor."

"Um, um -- How about fucking me first?"

"Jesus Christ, Marcy!  He was in jail, you know.  Look at this scar on 
his hip.  God knows what diseases he's carrying!  I was planning to use
a rubber."

She jumped out of the shower stall.  "Let me dry off right quick.  The 
rubbers are in my right-hand nightstand."


* * *


While using the unwashed jailbird's body Sam withheld use of the Climax
Spell.  Nevertheless Marcy soon settled into climax after climax, head 
rolling, body twisting, heels drumming his buttocks.  The man's body was
eager enough; who knew how long it had been without sex?  Even with no 
mental encouragement its pleasure finally arose and spewed into the 
condom.  Sam rose to sit on his heels, watching sourly as the woman's 
panting and heaving quieted.

"Whew!  God!"  Her eyes opened and flicked across his face.  Then she 
turned her head away.

"So you like stinky men."

She sighed.  "It's as much a surprise to me as you.  Something about 
that odor ...  What is it, male sweat?  The only times I half-way 
enjoyed sex with Jack was when he'd just mowed the lawn."  She shook her
head.  "But that face is ugly, Sam."

"When did you notice it?"

"The first time I saw it, from the shower, it scared me.  Then ... the 
smell got to me and I ... I couldn't see anything but dick."

He chuckled wryly.  "Such candor!"  He stripped off the condom, got out
of the bed and reached for his discarded clothing.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"To dump this guy."

"That means you won't bring him back, will you?  Let me ... taste 
first."  She rose up in the bed, caught him around the hips and sucked 
the still erect organ into her mouth.

He pushed her away and noted, "That rubber is full of his stuff and god
knows what else."

"Huh!  I believe you're jealous."  She snatched up the condom and 
stripped out its contents between two fingers directly into her mouth.

"God, Marcy!" he snarled.  "That's ... that's ..."

"Disgusting?"

"Yeah.  And risky as hell.  Let me look around.  I'll find you a body 
that's safe."

Her mouth made tasting motions.  "Not bad."  She giggled.  "It's the 
first time I ever had the chance to compare semen."

"You never sucked off Jack?"

"Well, of course, all the girls are cocksuckers nowadays.  But I'd 
forgot how it tasted."

He finished dressing.  "Have you talked to Natty?"

Marcy looked at her wristwatch.  "Thanks for reminding me.  I have to 
pick her up at the mall.  I'll talk to her on the way back."

"Good."

He performed a quick mental scan of the jail stockroom where he'd left 
this body's jail suit.  It was empty of people.  In an instant he stood
within it.  Quickly he threw off his current clothing and donned a 
jumper marked M for Medium.  He opened the door a crack to listen, 
hearing a distant hum of voices, recalling a door marked _Janitor_ on 
the way to the cell blocks.

No one was in the hall.  He hurried to the recalled door.  Locked!  But
not to him.  Inside he found a light switch.  It was a closet with 
shelves containing cleaning supplies, a uniform hung on a peg and a 
chair.  He sat in the chair.

Time for a _timed_ entry.  He imagined the clock on Marcy's dresser with
its hands at one o'clock.  From the clock face he expanded his awareness
around the room.  Marcy lay asleep in her bed.  Across the hall Natty 
was also sleeping.  Both females were naked.  With a sense of amusement
he wondered if that was due to his influence

Just before slipping into Marcy's mind across town and across five hours
of time, he allowed the jailbird's mind to awaken in the courthouse 
closet, further amused at the likely consequences when the man stumbled
out into the jail.


* * *


Careful not to take control, he commanded, _Wakeup!_ willing her to be 
fully conscious of his presence in her mind.

"Wh-what?" she murmured drowsily.

_Wake up for a few minutes._

"Good god!  Am I going nuts?"

_Don't be scared.  This is Sam, sharing your mind._

"Sam!" she exclaimed, still speaking aloud.  "This is so weird!"  She 
reached out and turned on the bedside lamp.

_Get used to it, darling.  I'll be with you or Natty this way a lot when
I'm between bodies._

Testing degrees of control, he made her hands cup her breasts.  She 
didn't seem to notice.

"God, Sam!  I said I never wanted you to leave me, but I never imagined
this."

_Are you uncomfortable, Marcy?  I'll leave you alone, if you want._

"Will you hurt me?"

_I thought you trusted me more than that._

"Oh, I do, I do!  It's just so strange."

_Thank you.  Let's try something.  _Think_ at me and don't talk.  Let's
see if I can hear it._

He waited but received nothing, not even a feeling.

_I guess it doesn't work._

She whispered almost silently, "How about if I whisper?"

_Loud and clear.  Good.  Have you talked with Natty about me?_

"Yeah.  At first she thought I was crazy, but she's only ten years old 
and only recently quit believing in the tooth fairy.  She loves you, 
Sam.  She wants to think you're still with us."

_I'm not, of course.  My body is in the morgue._

"Maybe so, but _you're_ still here!  Oh, Sam, this is so exciting!"

_It's already a lot of fun._

"Gosh, it's one a.m.  Don't you need to sleep, Sam?"

_No, and without a body I don't even get tired._

"Couldn't you find another one?"

_Not yet.  I thought it might be better to greet Natty this way._

"You mean in _my_ body?"

_No, by sharing her mind._  He allowed a chuckle.  _Though this _is_ a 
sweet body.  How about rubbing your clit a little?  I wonder how it 
feels from the inside._

"This is being really intimate, Sam.  I'm wet already.  You do it."

Sam took charge of Marcy's right arm, hand and fingers.  A middle digit
rubbed her pleasure spot aggressively.

"Oh, Sam!" Marcy cried as a quick climax loomed.  "I wish I could kiss 
you!"

Sam waited for the orgasm to run its course before advising, _I'll bring
a body home to you tomorrow, darling.  Now I'm going to join Natty._

"Don't scare her, Sam.  Be gentle."


* * *


He slipped into the child's mind as she slept and stroked the hairless 
pussy with her own hand.

Suddenly she awoke and asked drowsily, "Wh-what's happening?"

_It's just me, darling: Sam.  I'm in your head.  Your mom told you about
some of this._

"I didn't believe her.  I'm scared!"

_Don't be, precious, but I'll leave you, if you want._

Natty thought for a moment and said, "Leave me then come back."

Sam did so, waiting a couple of minutes before entering her mind again.
_I'm back._

The girl got out of bed, went to the wall and turned on the overhead 
lamp.  She looked around thoroughly and studied herself in the dresser 
mirror.  "Sam, are you really here?"

_Just now I'm only in your head, sweetie._

"Gosh, it's true!" the ten year old exclaimed.  "But ... Mom said you 
showed up in a different body."

_I did, darling, and if you want, we'll go the mall tomorrow.  You can 
pick out a boy of your dreams and we'll have sex._"

"This is so weird, Sam."

_I've been hearing that a lot lately._

"I'll bet!  But, Sam, why can't we do it like before?  I loved your nice
thingy."

_That nice thingy is gone, precious, along with the rest of my body.  
You'll never see it again, but I'm still around.  We'll talk and have 
sex, and although I'll come to you in different bodies, you'll recognize
me just as your mom has._

"Did that other guy screw her?"

_No, darling.  She and I made love, but it was me using another guy's 
body.  Your mom came to accept the fact that I was in the stranger and 
that I was the one who made him screw the way she likes it._

"Oh, wow!  That could be ... terrific!"

_Yes, it could._

"Can I tell you a secret, Sam?"

_Of course._

"There's a boy two streets over.  He's thirteen."

_Do you want to have him, darling?_

"He's really cute."

_If I get him for you, you know I'll be the guy._

"Can you play pretend, Sam?"


* * *


The next morning Natty, with Sam hovering in her mind, sought out her 
cute boy.  His mother said he had gone to the municipal basketball 
court, where they found him alone trying to score hoops.  Sam 
immediately left Natty and snatched the pretty, hairless lad whose bare,
immature chest glistened with perspiration.  The blond boy was tall for
his age, but his shapely calves sprouted only faint down.

In high school Sam had been good at hoops.  He gave the lad a last long
throw that swished though the net without touching the rim.  Smiling, he
let the ball fall where it would and strolled up to the girl.

"Hi, Natty."

"Good shot, Sean."  Her quick smile vanished and her fists rested on her
hips in annoyance.  "Or should I say, Sam?"

"Why should you?"

"Because he finally made a hoop.  Mainly because Sean wouldn't know I 
existed if you didn't make him."

"Are you sure?  He's alone here and you're a pretty girl."

"No boobs."

"Maybe he doesn't need them.  He's thirteen; probably hasn't had much to
do with boobs."

"Can't you tell?"

"No.  I've taken complete control and put him to sleep.  There's nobody
home but me."

"You mean ... he won't remember any of this?"

"That's right.  I always knew you were a smart girl, Natty."

"I wish it was Sean who said that."

Sam walked the boy with Natty back to her house, enjoying the unlimited
energy of youth.  Marcy was away at work.  He doubted she would approve
of Sean's visit, but of course he was accustomed to considering Natty 
mature enough to fuck -- thus mature enough to decide for herself.  
Besides, he was curious to know how it would feel to the thirteen year 
old.

She pulled away when he sought to kiss her after entering the house.  
"Please don't Sam.  I want to do everything myself, at least to begin 
with."

"I see.  You want to play with him as a toy.  How long has he fascinated
you?"

"Since before school let out."

"He got your heart before I could, did he?"

"But not my cherry.  Don't talk anymore, Sam, not for a while."

Sam complied, but he was amazed at young Natty's lasciviousness.  
Although he had fucked the girl many times, he never had a clue about 
her inner urges.  He had been her adult lover, but the ten year old had
been fantasizing about this pretty boy that Sam now controlled.

He remained mute while Natty guided him to the bathroom.  She knelt 
before him and removed his foot gear then his shorts, revealing an 
erect, slender, four-inch cock.  She played with it for some moments, 
rubbing it across her cheeks then sucking on it briefly.

"You're too sweaty, Sean," she murmured, standing and turning on the 
shower.

The boy stepped into the tub.  Closing the curtain, she washed him with
loving hands, at times leaning up to kiss his face.  He was inches 
taller than she.  Sam made no move beyond puckering against her lips.  

She knelt and washed Sean's shapely, hairless legs with sudsy hands.  
She thoroughly soaped his balls and cock.  After rinsing him thoroughly
she slipped his small pole past her lips.

She had never managed to take in the entirety of Sam's mature cock but 
now her nose buried itself in Sean's wispy pubic hair, compressing the 
pubic pad.

"God!" he murmured.  "I always loved a woman taking the whole thing."

Sean's body was only thirteen years old and randy.  The cock soon 
erupted in her mouth.  Sam marveled again at the difference between 
orgasms.  Sean's had been so much more intense than Sam's previous 
experience as a man, although the boy didn't spew as much.  Only the 
climaxes enhanced by Demeter's spell were stronger.

Natty expelled most of the bubbly semen through lips pursed around his 
shift, stood up and rinsed her mouth in the shower spray then swallowed.

"That was fun," she said and leaned against him.  "His didn't choke me."

"You're a fine cocksucker, precious.  Someone has trained you well."

"I wonder who!"  Her eyebrows rose thoughtfully.  "Maybe I shouldn't do
it so well with new guys."

"Probably not, unless I'm running them."

She laid her wet head on his chest.  "Oh, Sam!  If you weren't here, 
this wouldn't happen in a million years."

"That's probably true."

"It's like the final proof of what you said."

"Would you like me to take charge?"

"Yeah.  I want Sean to do me on my bed."

In her bedroom they assumed the missionary position.  Her hips rolled 
vigorously beneath him but with Sean's pressures relieved their coupling
lacked frenzy.

After awhile he asked, "Do you think Sean fits you better?"

"He doesn't swell me up like you do -- did."

"Is that good or bad?"

"I don't know."  She giggled.  "Would it be awful if I liked your big 
one better?"

"Awful?  Not awful, just different from what most women claim."

"What's that?"

"That size doesn't matter."

"Huh!"

"I'll tell you one thing: his body fits you better.  When we fucked this
way before, I had to be careful not to smother you into my chest."

She giggled.  "Remember the time I bit your nipple?"

"Yes, you sweet minx!"

"Let me turn over."

She rose on hands and knees.  "Put it up my ass."

"Let me get the cream."

"I'll bet we don't need it."

And they didn't.  Her buttocks were so rounded, however, that Sean's 
short rod would hardly penetrate beyond the glans.

"That's really different!" she noted.

"Better?"

"You have to answer that.  _I_ never went for it up my ass."

"Actually it might be better if you clamp down."

But when she did, her sphincter forced him out.  Her hand slipped under
her belly and inserted him vaginally.  "Now _this_ is better," she said
after a moment.  "You're hitting the right spot."  Her hand lingered.  
He felt it vibrating her clitoris.  Soon she squealed repeatedly in 
climax, joined by Sean's grunts that alternated between low and high 
pitch.  She was giggling again when he flopped off to her side.

"What's funny?"

"You were almost yodeling!"

"Yeah.  Sean's voice is still changing."

They lay for a while with her head on his shoulder.  Idly he asked, 
"Well, which dick size is better?"

"A little one is easier up the ass."

"Like a small turd, eh?"

Her hand stole around his chest.  "But I loved your old thick cock, 
Sam."

"Sean's will thicken up, especially if he starts to get plenty."

"I hope so.  But you can get other bodies, can't you?"

"What size do you want, a kielbasa?"

She shivered.  "That would kill me."

"Is that a 'yes' or a 'no?'"


Contact:
Varangian: ludmax11@hotmail.com
Kellis: kellis@dhp.com

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