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Subject: {ASSM} Music Girl (pedo, intergen, Mgg)
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Date: Sun, 27 Jul 2014 01:10:04 -0400
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Title: 	  Music Girl
Author:   MeatBot
Keywords: pedo, intergen, Mgg

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/MeatBot/

	Copyright by the author. Permission is granted to archive,
repost, or publish in no-cost or low-cost archives, periodicals,
anthologies of this type of material if unaltered and attributed to
the author.

     Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to
reality is accidental and would be damn surprising. Be warned that
this story may involve explicit descriptions of sexual activities,
including some defined under law as "Weird Shit". Do not read this
story if you believe that fictional characters should not have
fictional sex, or if you are less than the age of consent in your
social or legal group, or if you live under a repressive, totalitarian
regime in an out-of-the-way place such as the USA. If you like it, I
did it. If you hate it, I didn't. If it offends you, it was a
misprint. If you want to sue me, I don't exist. Sue the internet
instead. Nobody's twisting your arm. Leave if you don't like crap like
this. These are just words, people. Just words. 

Be warned, this is a goofy, infantile, poorly written, disgusting and
depraved story with bad punctuation, bad grammar, and lots of
misspelled words. I am not an English major. Deal with it. This story
actually happened, to a girl I dated many years ago, and the story
buried in this story is about 90% true, though of course the sex and
the conversations are fictionalized. The guy was a fairly famous
composer, and was a local big shot in a fairly populous urban area.
She has adjusted well, in spite of what she went through, and is now a
fairly typical whacky psycho female. Oddly, she had little interest in
the piano, or any other musical instrument, at the time I knew her.
She was the richest girl I ever knew. And, yes, I'm aware that this
story really slows down at the end, where there is also very little
sex stuff. It's just the way it happened, more or less. If you don't
like it, read something else. Don't bitch at me. You have been warned.

This story is graded <TAME> compared to some of the shit I've read in
this newsgroup.





Ophelia was waiting for the bus, to take her back to the orphanage.
Along with several other kids, from the home. The orphanage kids stuck
together, usually, because the other kids were usually mean to them,
and picked on them. Being an orphan pretty much sucked, for a variety
of reasons. One of the main ones was nobody gave a shit if you got the
hell beat out of you. I mean, the teachers kind of gave it lip
service, but they didn't really care that much. You weren't their kid.

Anyway, the bus came, and she got on it. In ten minutes they'd be back
home. Home. Sigh. The Ruby Steadmann Children's home. Joy. Ophelia
still had hopes, after all these years, that somebody, some nice
pleasant family, would come and take her away to a home. A real home,
all her own. Something that she could be part of. People that would
love her. Ophelia didn't really know what love was, living in an
orphanage her whole life. She just thought of love as a nice place to
sleep and enough to eat and somebody that treated her nice. And nice,
to her, was a pretty relative thing. The teachers at school treated
her nice, but they very obviously didn't love her. Some of the matrons
at the home even treated her nice, but it was way obvious that they
didn't love her. Her or any of the kids. It was just a job, for most
of them, it seemed like. Except for the ones that were positively
mean. They seemed to enjoy that. Being mean.

The bus pulled up, and they piled out. Ophelia ran to her room and
finished the homework that she hadn't been able to do on the bus. She
went down to the dining hall, but none of her friends were there. She
went to the library, and picked out a random book, and began to read.
The library was where she spent some of the most carefree moments of
her life. She loved the library, and all the books. She loved the
places the books took her.

A half hour later, Mrs. Simmons found her, still in the library. 

"Ophelia, you have a guest. Please comport yourself with dignity. This
is a very important man. And he is interested in you, child."

Me? Thought Ophelia. Why would a man be interested in me? She didn't
really want a man, she wanted a whole family to be interested in her.
But, you take what you can get. If it meant getting out of this place,
she'd take it.

She followed Mrs. Simmons down the hall, to the interview room. She
entered, and flinched. That was him? That old fart? Jeezus. He looked
like he was a hundred years old. He was way too old to be taking on a
kid. An orphan.

Mrs. Flake took over, and Mrs. Simmons departed. Mrs. Flake described
Ophelia to the man, and he looked her over, appraisingly. She was too
young to know the phrase "undressing her with his eyes", but that's
what he did. She felt vaguely uncomfortable, but not for that reason,
she wasn't skilled at reading adults yet. She felt uncomfortable just
because he was an old fart.

"Ophelia, play the Hammerklavier for Maestro Baldwin. Just the first
part, just a minute or two of it."

Shoot, Ophelia thought. She hated Beethoven. And that piece was a hard
sumbitch. She sighed, and went to the rickety old piano, and sat. She
just launched right into it, somewhere on the second page, what she
could remember of it. She was cold, her fingers were cold, but she
thought she did it pretty good. She finally reached a stopping place,
and halted, placing her hands in her lap.

"She has lessons with Mrs. Dworn, over in the Platt, once a week. Mrs.
Dworn says that Ophelia is her best student. We're all very proud of
her."

"Yes, ahem." The man known as Maestro Baldwin cleared his throat.
"That is a difficult piece. She did very good, for a child."

They're proud of me? Ophelia was thinking. I wish somebody had said
something about it before now. She tried to think of even a single
compliment she'd ever gotten from the staff of the Steadmann home.
Shit. Not a word. Mrs. Smith even acted like it was a major
pain-in-the-ass, taking her to her lesson every week. Mrs. Dworn had
tried to get her to come twice or three times a week, but no one would
commit to taking her. Once again, she squirmed at the unfairness of it
all.

"The child is healthy?" The old man said. "Good teeth? She is clean?"

"Maestro Baldwin." Mrs. Flake actually fluttered her eyelashes at the
man. "All our children are clean, and have good teeth. Yes, she is in
perfect health. The state inspects the children every few months.
Ophelia is always in the top one percent."

Ophelia could only ever remember somebody checking her once, in all
the years she'd been here, but she wisely kept quiet. She knew by now
that adults hardly ever told the truth. It didn't bother her. She only
told the truth when it was convenient. When it worked out according to
her plans.

"Well, Maestro. Shall we begin the paperwork?"





He hadn't said yes, but he hadn't said no. Ophelia could tell, though,
that he liked her. The only problem was that she didn't really like
him. He was a hairy, wrinkled old man. She couldn't imagine calling
him Daddy or sitting on his lap while he read to her. She had been
around him enough to see, in just that few minutes, that he was a
weird old man. That he had a lot of hang-ups, like Rosie said most
adults had. She wasn't sure how things would work out, if he chose
her. Did he have a wife? she wanted to ask someone. Why wasn't she
here, too? Or his kids, or more likely grand-kids? Where were they?
She was curious.

Mrs. Flake freed her, and sent her back to the library, or wherever
she wanted to go. She had shaken the old man's hand, before she left,
a shiver going down her spine at his hot leathery touch. And he had
done the weirdest thing to her. Mrs. Flake had left the room for a
moment, to try and locate Mrs. Wilburton. Ophelia was standing a few
feet from the Maestro, and he had taken a few rapid steps towards her,
until he was just inches away from her. He leaned down, and patted her
firmly on her butt, three or four pats, a gentle smile on his face.
She just stood there, bemused. He had pressed his fingers into her
crack, pressing her dress inbetween her butt cheeks, even. She had to
pick her dress out of her butt, before she left the room. It just
seemed really strange to her. She had boys touch her bottom before, in
gym class, and once when they played a kissing game in the cloak
closet. This just felt strange to her, though. Weird, she thought.
Weird.





That night, everything went like normal. The next few days were
normal. When Mrs. Smith came and fetched her, one evening, almost as
soon as she got home from school. It was a total surprise. 

"Gather your clothes up, dear, and anything else you want to take.
Your papers came through, and the Maestro will be here in a few
minutes to pick you up."

Ophelia was shocked, and a bit put out. She wanted time to tell her
two friends goodbye. She only had two friends here at the home, two
real friends. And now she was going to have to leave them. She'd
always hoped for a family of her own, but now when it looked like it
was happening, she wasn't that sure. She realized that she didn't
really have a choice, though. She would try and deal with it.

She saw Joycelyn on the way out, and they hugged fiercely. She kissed
the other girl right on the lips, and told her goodbye. She waited at
the gate with Mrs. Smith. A giant limousine finally pulled up, to pick
up some rich person, she thought.

"Here he is, dear." Said Mrs. Smith. Shit, thought Ophelia, for me?
This car came for me? This is looking better already. The driver
sprang out, and literally ran around the car to open the door for her.
No one else was inside. She was going to have this car all to herself?
Jeezus, she thought, jeezus. I am leaving in style.

A few of the other girls were hanging around the gate, and Ophelia
gave them a careless wave right before she entered the car. She could
see their jaws hanging open, and she giggled once she got inside and
sat down. There was a TV and everything. She was impressed.

"I'm Chad, and I'll be your driver today. Actually, I'll be your
driver every day." The driver said, and he showed her where the cups
were, and the ice bucket, and everything. She was even more impressed.
She let him pour her a Pepsi, and then she nodded her head at the
front of the car. "You may drive." She said, and he giggled. She
giggled back. She was enjoying this part, at least. She didn't know
what was ahead for her, but she was enjoying this part.

They went uptown, past the 59th Street Bridge, into a part of town
that she'd never been to before. Finally, they pulled up in the
basement of a large apartment building. Chad ran around the car and
helped her out, and then locked up the car. He took her to an
elevator, and they boarded. He pushed their floor, and then he had to
put in some kind of code or something. The elevator dinged, and
started to rise.

"So, you're the new girl." Said Chad, and she nodded.

"I wish you luck, darling." He said. "Let me know if I can ever help
you. Lord knows you'll need it, living with that man."

She nodded again, wondering what he meant, and then shook his hand
when he presented it. She wanted to ask him some questions, but the
dinger dinged again, and the elevator stopped. The door opened, onto a
plush, dark hallway. Chad led her down it, and stopped before a door
marked 711. He knocked twice, paused, and knocked once. In a few
moments the door opened, and there stood the maestro.

"Welcome, Ophelia!" he said loudly, in his funny accent, and gestured
for her to enter. She slowly walked into the room, bemused. Streamers
hung from the ceiling, and helium balloons floated in the breeze. The
apartment was huge, and spacious, full of nice furniture and large
paintings on the walls. Large, expensive looking paintings. Ophelia
had never been around wealth, but she knew it, instinctively, when she
saw it. She knew that this was the home of a very wealthy man.

People stood around and clapped as she entered. That was amusing. She
idly realized that everyone here was an adult, and most of them were
old. Not a single kid. She wondered if the Maestro had grandchildren,
and where they were if he did.

There was cake, and punch, and everything. It was quite a party, she
thought, though the formality of it puzzled her a bit. Each of the
other guests was introduced to her by the Maestro, and she struggled
to remember names. Everyone seemed fascinated by her, and they seemed
to hang onto her every word. She wondered if it was really because of
her, or if it was because of him. She figured it was him. She knew by
now that he was an Important Person. She had never been around an IP,
but she was no dummy, and she picked up quick. Some of the guests
showed definite signs of being IP's, also, and she was on her best
behavior, and was respectful to all. 

It was going to be a bit like living in a museum, she thought, looking
around. Everything looked expensive. There was a huge concert grand in
the center of the room. Several other instruments were scattered
throughout the room.

After a while, the Maestro spoke loudly. "Ophelia. Play for us,
please, dear."

She regarded him with surprise. But she was willing. She didn't mind
playing in front of people. He motioned her to the piano, and she sat.
He said, "The Hammerklavier, like you played for me. As much as you
can remember."

Shoot, she thought. She still hated Beethoven. But, oh well. She
started at the beginning, and played it as well as she could, all the
way to the end. It took forever, but she enjoyed the feel of the piano
beneath her fingers. It was a fine piano, she could tell. Expensive.
She only muffed it up twice, just little parts that she couldn't
remember quite right. She thought she'd done pretty well, even though
she knew it wasn't the original, but an adaptation. The original was
damn hard, she knew.

Everyone clapped when she finally wound it up, and they clapped for a
long time. She turned and stood and bowed, like Mrs. Dworn made them
do, at recitals. She felt like some of the people had been genuinely
impressed with her playing. She felt warm and fuzzy inside. It was the
high point of the evening, for her. Even the Maestro beamed at her.
Good, she thought. Good.

The party wound down in an hour, and most of the guests left. Two
women stayed, and sat with the Maestro, mumbling and chatting. Ophelia
finally got a bit bored, and wandered around the apartment, careful
not to touch anything. She started to go down the hallway, then
stopped, deciding to let him tell her what she could and couldn't do.
She didn't want to start out on the wrong foot.

Finally, the last two women left. It was just him, her, and a maid
that had stayed in the kitchen pretty much the whole evening. When the
last guests were gone, the maid came out, and cleaned up the room,
putting all the dishes in the dishwasher, and even running the vacuum
cleaner. While that was going on, the Maestro showed Ophelia the
apartment, pointing out pictures on the wall like she should know who
painted them. That part was silly to her. She didn't tell him how
uninterested she was in silly old paintings. There were lots of
statues all around, though, and some of them looked like they were
made of gold to her. She wondered just how rich he was. The apartment
looked pretty rich to her.

She wondered where her bedroom was. She thought he'd shown her the
whole apartment, but there wasn't a bedroom for her. She wondered if
she'd be staying here tonight. It seemed like it, so far.

Finally, the maid finished up, and departed. When she left the Maestro
followed her to the door, and he locked the door firmly behind her.
The door had three locks, and he clicked each one locked. She realized
that she was locked in, with this man. She had seen no sign that any
one else was in the place. She seemed to be alone with him. She
wondered if he even had a wife, or any kids. She'd seen no sign of any
such things, so far. She actually got a bit nervous, after that. Well,
she told herself, he wanted me this bad, he's not gonna hurt me, at
least. Besides, there's laws against that. He can't.

"Ophelia." The Maestro spoke. "It is eight o'clock. It is time for
your bath."

Okay, she could live with that. The main bathroom had been large and
impressive, with a huge claw-footed tub. That might be fun. The
Maestro led her into the bathroom, and began running the water. He
motioned for her to undress. She stood there, indecisively, wondering
what to do. She'd never taken her clothes off in front of a man
before. She'd actually never even been in the bathroom with a man
before. She didn't really know what to do.

"Ophelia. You must undress, to bathe." He said, talking to her like
she was an idiot. She kicked her flip-flops off, and shyly pulled her
dress up, and over her head. She stood before him in her panties, and
she could tell he liked it. She could tell he was enjoying seeing her.
A spasm of nervousness ran down her spine, like a chill. She placed a
hand over her flat little breasts, shyly.

"Your panties, dear." He said. She resisted for a few moments,
wondering what would happen if she refused, or if she asked him to
leave the room. He is my... my guardian, now, though, she told
herself. I must do what he says. With a grimace, she pulled her
panties down, and kicked them down her legs. She stood before him,
naked, embarrassed.

"Darling." He said, appraising her body with his eyes. "Do not be
ashamed of your body. You are sweet and precious. I am a lucky man."
Why does he think he's lucky? She thought. It's not like I've got
boobs or anything for him to look at. I'm just a little girl.

She didn't wait on him to tell her, she got into the tub. She splashed
around, soaking her hair and face, and when her attention returned to
him she saw that he had removed his jacket and was rolling his sleeves
up. He took a washrag from a drawer, and soaked it in the tub. He took
the soap from the soap dish, and scrubbed soap on the washrag. He
motioned to her.

"Stand, precious." She shyly stood, and stood before him. He washed
her shoulders, and her tummy, and rotated her, and washed her back,
down to her bottom. He turned her back around, and very carefully
washed her face, and then rinsed the rag and rinsed the soap from her
face. He soaped the rag again, and leaned down, and began to wash her
pussy. Her 'gina, as Joycelyn called it. She almost giggled, but
remembered where she was, and stopped in time. He spent a lot of time
washing her, down there. It was strange to her, but enjoyable. It felt
good. Finally he turned her around again, and began to wash her
bottom. He said, "Hold it apart." and spread her ass cheeks apart. She
reached back and held them apart, and he washed all up and down her
crack, and washed her asshole. He washed her asshole so much it almost
hurt, in fact. Finally he went on down her legs, and she relaxed. The
bath had actually been fun. She wondered if he would want to do this
every night. Or if he was just showing her how to do it. She kind of
hoped he'd do it, from now on.

She sat back down and rinsed, and he let her do her hair by herself.
Just as she ducked her head beneath the water, he began to speak.

"Ophelia." He said. "You are a very beautiful girl. I am looking
forward to tasting you. You will taste delightful, I am sure. I love
you, little one, I love you dearly. Already."

Well, that was a bit freaky, she thought. Taste me? Whatever does that
mean? Is he really going to taste me? Taste me, as in his tongue? How
peculiar. The whole thing sounded a bit intense to her. She wondered
if he was just saying stuff to impress her. To what purpose, though?

She finally giggled, because it seemed like he was waiting for her to
say something. He motioned to her, and she let him place his hands on
her upper arms as he helped her carefully step out of the tub. He took
a fluffy towel, and she let him rub her down, drying her. Now what,
she thought, wishing she'd gotten her night clothes out before the
bath.

"You must brush your teeth, dearest." He said, and he took a fresh
toothbrush from the shelf, and tore the package open. He applied the
toothpaste as she held it, and she brushed her teeth as he watched.
She felt funny being naked, she had been naked very rarely in her
life, only for a few brief moments before her baths, and after. She
decided that she liked it, though. She liked the naughty feeling of
it. She liked him watching her, and she could tell that he watched
her. His eyes never left her, in fact.

"Darling. Run hop into bed." He said. She just stared at him,
wondering which bed. She actually only remembered seeing one bed in
the whole place. She waited. She wondered if he wanted her to sleep on
the couch in the living room.

He motioned to his bedroom, and then he led the way. She followed,
apprehensively. They arrived, and he motioned to the giant bed. She
took a few steps towards it, and then turned to him again. He motioned
again. She slowly, thoughtfully crawled up onto it. This was it? He
was giving her his bed? Where was he going to sleep, then?

He turned the lights down about halfway. He wanted to be able to see,
for this one. For this first time. He knew he could never see enough
of her. She was delectable, this one. This one was special. He
wondered why no one had snapped her up, so far. Her beauty staggered
him. She had been made for him, he knew. Whatever powers there were,
those powers that, in fact, he no longer believed in, had made her
just for him. She was everything he had spent his whole life desiring.
It broke his hard, shriveled-up little heart that she would grow up,
grow out this, this perfect little body that she was in. He wanted to
seize her, and freeze her. And never release her. He wanted to own
her. Shit. He did own her, basically. His mouth watered, thinking of
her tastes. He was fixing to find out.

She wiggled under the comforter, almost glad to finally hide from his
gaze. His intensity was beginning to make her nervous. She knew that
it was all about her, at this point. She knew that he had plans for
her. She wondered what she'd be required to do, for him.

He took his dinner jacket off. Then his shirt. Then his undershirt. He
dropped his slacks to the ground, and stepped out of his shoes. He
stood before her in a pair of boxer shorts, and then he kicked them to
the ground. She gazed at his naked body in frank curiosity. She'd
never seen a naked boy before, well, or a naked old man. He was saggy
and baggy in a few places, and hairy. Jeezus, he was hairy. And he had
the funniest... thing... poking out, from his waist. She gazed at it,
her curiosity piqued. Was that what Joycelyn had talked about? About
boys having? She'd called it... a weenie. Yes. A weenie. It looked
like a weenie. She hadn't mentioned, this, though, that it stuck out
like this. She tried to see it better in the dim light, but she
couldn't really make any details out. Two round hangy-down things were
beneath it, swaying slightly as he moved. How peculiar, she thought.
How peculiar. Boys. Weird.

He approached the bed, his weenie swaying slightly as he walked. He
crawled up into the bed, settling beside her. She realized with a
shock that he intended on sharing his bed with her. Every night? She
thought. Every night, from now on? This was not to be her bed?

Well, she would deal with it. She could deal with it. She was
flexible. She had already dealt with way worse, in her short life. Or
so she thought.

He wiggled around, got beneath the blanket, and got comfortable.

"Ophelia, my child." He said. "Come to me. Come crawl up on top of me,
and let me touch you. I must feel you, child."

Lord, she thought. This was almost embarrassing. She slowly did what
he asked, and crawled on top of his hairy, ticklish body. She lay
there, face down, her head beside his. She gave a start when she felt
his hands on her buttocks, and then giggled.

He squeezed and rubbed her little ass, running his hands over her
smooth softness, drinking it in. The only thing that kept him from
going completely insane at this point was thinking about what would
come next, over the next hour, or four. He cupped her ass, and sunk
his fingers into the soft flesh, squeezing and rubbing and loving it.
This child was rare, and precious. And so precocious. She seemed like
an old pro at this stuff, like it didn't bother her a bit. Girls in
the past that he'd... loved... some of them had been a real struggle.
Some of them cost him lots of time, and money... to get what he wanted
out of them. But this one, so sweet, so precious, so beautiful. Her
little ass felt like two breasts to him, two large nipple-less
breasts. He could lay here all night and squeeze her ass. Except...
his face needed a turn, too...

He ran his hands up her back, feeling her strong muscular backbone,
feeling her strength. Even her back was sexy to him. He ran his finger
down the indentation in the center of her spine. All the way down to
her beautiful ass. What a rare gem, he thought, a priceless gem... a
rare apple to be plucked from the tree... why had no one else seen
her? Why had no one else taken her? She had sat in that orphanage for
twelve long years... and no one had taken her home for a taste? How
peculiar. How precious, that she had been saved for him. That she had
waited for him. He loved her for the gifts she was giving him, and
would give him. The gifts he would take from her.

After what seemed like an hour later, he was ready to move on. He
manhandled her, and flipped her over. She lay on his stomach on her
back, his hard cock sticking up through her legs, right beneath her
pussy. Her pussy. His hand slowly crept downwards, to her secret spot,
to the temple of her being. He slowly rubbed and loved on it, sinking
his finger deeper and deeper, feeling a slight dampness. He couldn't
stand that, and brought his hand to his nose, breathing her smell into
his body, making it part of him. He wished that he'd done this before
her bath, so she'd had more smell to tempt him with. Tomorrow night,
then. She did smell delightful, though. She smelled like sex, and
young girls, and a million other wonderful things. Most of all, she
smelled like pussy. The wild care-free odor of pussy. He rubbed her
again, and rubbed his finger beneath his nose, wanting to smell that
smell for the rest of his life. She smelled incredible to him.

He lifted her left arm, and leaned down and placed his face under her
arm, and drank in that beautiful smell. He hadn't washed her there on
purpose, just for this reason. He loved her earthy, tangy scent...
sweaty, incredible... he sniffed and licked under her arm, making her
giggle. She was too much. He was afraid he would die of happiness
before he could taste all off her. She was just too much.

One of his hands was on her flat little chest, and the other was down
inside her crotch, rubbing into her slit. Her fantastic little
pussy-slit. He could feel her juices on his finger, and it turned him
on incredibly. He began to rub her in earnest, trying to make her cum.
She wiggled and writhed beneath him, bouncing up and down as he pumped
into her slit. He finally reached down and took his penis and began
rubbing it up and down her slit, pulling it forward and trying to
stroke her clit with it. Her clit was too small for him to find,
without seeing it, but he hoped that she was feeling it. Judging from
her gyrations on top of him, he guessed that she was. He heard her
groan, and it turned him on to think of the pleasure he was giving
her. 

With his free hand he explored her chest, feeling her hard little
titties, squeezing and pinching them. He was sawing his dick in and
out of her little slit frantically by now, feeling her cunt rub up and
down his cock, loving the feeling of her slickness on him. He didn't
know if she'd ever cum or not, he didn't know if she could, some of
the girls he'd molested in the past had been able to, and some could
not. He hoped she would, though, he wanted to give that to her, at
least. Compared to what he was taking from her, it was nothing, but he
wanted to give her that much.

After a few minutes of this, he felt like she had cum. She had writhed
around like an eel, and finally her breath grew labored, and she even
hiccuped a few times. She had sighed and moaned, and finally she just
seemed to collapse on top of him, and lay limply. He just held her for
a while, drinking her in, loving her.

He finally turned over, and with her on the bottom he levered his body
downwards, until his face was just inches from her fabulous cunt. He
anticipated this greatly, so much that he felt faint. He finally
dropped his face to her, and was not disappointed. Her cunt had a
wonderful flavor, strong and unmistakeable, in spite of the recent
bath. He wanted her bathed before his first time, but from here on out
he'd let her build up a little flavor before he bathed her. He loved
the taste of young girl, and she was the tastiest so far. He slurped
his way up and down her sweet young cunt, licking her clit, and all
the way down to her perineum. Down to, and past. She arched her back
and spread her legs even further for him, and he licked her beautiful
asshole, the seat of her soul. He loved the tangy harsh bitter flavor
of it the most, he just could not get enough of her sweet ass. The
feeling of the puckered skin of her asshole on his tongue drove him
absolutely insane, and the taste was just incredible. Sweet, and sour.
Harsh, and light. It was just too much. He stopped licking and sucked
as much air as she could into his nostrils, smelling her scent, almost
giving himself a headache. She was just too much for him.

He knew that he could do this for hours. He had, in the past. He had a
little girl once that would lay there and watch TV while he kissed and
licked and sucked all over her ass and cunt. I need to put a TV in
here again, he thought. I want this one to do that. I want to do that
to this one. For hours.

He stopped everything, and turned her back over. He positioned his
face right about her beautiful cunt, and drove his tongue into her
body, as far as he could. He could feel her maidenhead, her hymen on
his tongue. It was not going to last much longer, he thought. He felt
a little guilt at what he was going to do next, at the pain he was
going to cause her to have. He felt like, though, that it had to be
done. Where do we go from here, if not that? He thought. He knew that
his cock was larger than average, and that it would stretch her out
somewhat. He knew that her cherry would pop resoundingly. And probably
painfully. Then, though, my little darling, he thought, then you can
cum like the little beast you are. Then you can truly cum.

His dick was oozing pre-cum like crazy. He was really turned on by
this one. She was special, he thought, a rare treat. He was once again
glad of the success he'd had, and the life it allowed him to lead.
What a sad old man I'd be, he thought, if I didn't get to fuck sweet
young girls. How pathetic my life would be. How lucky I am, to be able
to afford this. Who says money can't buy happiness. Fuck them. It can.

He reached down inbetween the mattress and the box springs, and found
a jar of Vaseline that he'd stashed there from the last girlfriend
he'd had. She still lay on top of him, seemingly almost asleep, or
maybe exhausted. He hoped she was relaxed. He took a huge dollop of
Vaseline, and smeared it around her pussy, trying to get as much
inside her as he could. He took some more, and smeared it around his
dick. His dick was still rock-hard. Good. He rolled over, and placed
her on the bottom. He spread her sexy little legs, and lay on top of
her. She just lay there. Good, he thought. Good.

He finally got situated, and found her softness with the cap of his
dick. He pressed into her slowly, insistently, and felt her slowly
opening up to accept him. He knew the instant that her cherry popped,
because she burst into tears. He didn't stop pressing into her, he
just held her and tried to comfort her as best he could. She was
distinctly uncomfortable now, as he pressed into her body, and she
squirmed and writhed beneath him. He pushed into her ever harder, ever
further. She finally gasped, and cried out, and he knew that she was
in pain, but he couldn't stop, he was powerless to stop. He knew he
was hurting her, but he couldn't stop. She cried and cried as he
pressed his hard cock into her body, feeling her tight little cunt
wrapped around him almost painfully. He was continuously amazed that
little girls could take his cock without splitting in two. He'd seen
blood before, he'd caused that, and he might cause that on this one.
He hoped not. He didn't want to hurt the girls, he wanted to give them
pleasure, not pain. It was just part of the deal, though.

His groin finally touched her. He was all the way in. She was still
sobbing, tears running down her face. He was touched, and he felt bad.
I did what I had to do, he thought. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, darling. He
whispered that to her, over and over, and held her. She finally
quietened down a little, and he hoped the worst was over. He gently
pumped once, out a few inches, and back in. Fresh tears. God, she was
tight. The sensations from his dick were incredible. It almost felt
like it was being turned inside-out, she was so goddam tight.

About the twentieth or thirtieth stroke, she stopped crying. He hoped
that meant it had stopped hurting. He pumped a few more times, and was
rewarded with a kind of cough-hiccup thing. That sounded promising. He
pumped yet a few more times, and he could tell that she was enjoying
it, now. Young girls were funny, he thought, pain one second, and
pleasure the next. And they were so uninhibited. Nothing was hidden.
Their face told the whole story, whether pleasure or pain. They hid
nothing.

He pumped a few more times, and amazingly, she began to cum. He could
tell it was going to be a good one. As quick as he could, he got his
hand down there, and began to rub her clit with his finger. She
exploded into a little nuclear fireball, quietly, gently, and melted.
She came.

He let himself cum, after that, and he pumped her little cunt full of
his dusty old man semen, some of it squirting out onto the bed beneath
them. He had a good cum, as good as he ever remembered, and he was
exhausted, too. He just lay of top of her for a while, breathing
deeply, feeling her hard young body beneath him, loving it. Loving
her.

Somewhere near the end of that epic cum she had squealed and arched
her back until it popped. She had pounded on the bed with her hands,
and kicked her heels. He was proud to do it for her, and hoped that
the pain had been worth it to her, for that. Get used to it, darling,
he thought. We will do this every night... for the next... who knows
how long. His last girlfriend had only lasted two years before he'd
had to give her up. At sixteen, she'd just self-destructed or
something. It had cost him a fortune to wiggle out from underneath
her, in payments to specialists and shrinks and bribes. All that shit.
Good thing he was a millionaire, almost a billionaire. Money equals
freedom, he thought. If I was a poor fuck, I'd have been in prison
years ago. Now, I'm free to shop again for another teeny-bopper
girlfriend. And look what I got this time. pre-teen, no less. Cream of
the crop. He hoped that this one would last a long time, as sweet as
she was. And, she could play the piano very well. That was icing on
the cake. That gave him an excuse, an excuse to keep her. And he
would, he'd teach her what he could. He'd make something of her other
than just a sex toy.

Ophelia was almost asleep. Incredibly, in spite of the pain in her
pussy, she was almost asleep. She felt more relaxed than she had in a
long time. Other than the parts that hurt, she had really enjoyed what
he'd done to her. The stuff with his tongue had been incredible. She
had loved the shit out of that. He could do that every night, for all
she cared. She somehow knew that he probably would do that every
night. But, he'd probably want to put it inside her every night, too.
That, now, she wasn't too crazy about. Maybe it would feel better
later. Maybe she'd get used to it.

She yawned. She was sleepy. They'd been doing this for hours, she
thought. She didn't usually stay up this late. it was fun, though.
Maybe living with an old fart wouldn't that bad. 





The next morning he got her up and dressed, and about the time they
went to the kitchen there was a knock on the door. He went an answered
it, and returned with a stern-looking woman who was carrying sacks of
groceries. The woman began preparing breakfast, and what a breakfast
it was. She'd never eaten this well, in the home. In the home
breakfast was usually a bowl of cereal. This was bacon and eggs and
toast and fried potatoes, the works. She gobbled it up like a starving
Ethiopian, causing both the Maestro and the woman to laugh at her.

"Ophelia. Please prepare for school." The Maestro said, and she
pouted. She thought she'd get a day or two off, at least. No such
luck. She went and changed dresses, put her shoes on, and gathered her
books. Chad knocked on the door, and the Maestro accompanied her
downstairs to the limo. He went also, on the trip to school, and saw
her to the building.

School was fun, for some reason, she got to tell Joycelyn and Rosie
her adventures, although, for some reason, she didn't tell them about
the sex stuff. She knew they wouldn't be as freaky about it as adults,
but she just didn't feel like the time was right to tell them. Not
yet, at least.

The day passed quickly, pleasantly, and soon she was back home. Well,
back at the apartment. She didn't exactly think of it as home yet.
Chad had came to school in another limo, a slightly smaller one, and
picked her up, to her satisfaction. All the other kids had just stood
and stared, as she crawled into the big long black car. That was fun,
at least.

When Chad took her up to the apartment, the door was opened, and some
men were delivering a bed. The Maestro had them place in one of the
bedrooms. When they left, he took Ophelia into the room.

"Ophelia." He said. "This is your room, although you will still sleep
with me."

She nodded, and looked around. It was a nice spacious room, with a
dresser and a large walk-in closet.

"You may decorate is as you wish. Just please keep it neat, in case we
have visitors." He said, and left her. She spent the rest of the
afternoon moving things around, and placing the stuff she didn't want
in the third bedroom. He didn't seem to mind.

That night, it was barely seven when the Maestro ran the maid and cook
out, and announced that it was bedtime. She didn't have to take a bath
that night, either.

He turned out all the lights, and they went to his bedroom. He began
stripping his clothes off, and motioned for her to, also. She did, and
in a second she sat on the bed, naked.

"Ophelia, my darling." He said, just standing there, his weenie poking
out in front of him. "You are so beautiful. I love you dearly, child."

She giggled. He was silly, sometimes.

He approached her, as she sat on the bed. He stood right in front of
her, his penis almost in her face.

"Ophelia." He said. "Take me in your mouth."

Take him? What did he mean? Did he mean his weenie? she thought,
puzzled. She hesitantly reached out her hand, touching his cock for
the first time. It felt soft, and hard at the same time. She actually
liked the feeling of it. It felt smooth, and silky. She rubbed her
hand down it, and he gave a groan. I did that, she thought. I made him
feel that.

She rubbed him some more, for a few moments. He seemed to really like
it. She finally bent down, and examined his penis at close range. It
was kind of funny, she thought. The little cap on it was smooth and
soft, and the shaft was tight and hard. She could see blood vessels
beneath the skin. The skin was different colors, in different places.
She'd never seen anything like it, before. This thing was in me, she
thought. Last night, this thing was inside my body. How strange.

She finally, somewhat hesitantly, opened her mouth and placed his
penis inside it. It didn't seem to have any taste, she thought. She
closed her lips around it, and just sat there, holding it in her
mouth. Is this what he wants? she thought to herself. How peculiar
adults were, at times. How very strange.

"Suck, Ophelia. Go in and out." The Maestro commanded. Ah, she
thought. Yes. Suck. She began to suck, feeling the soft tube of flesh
in her mouth harden considerably. It felt funny, but it was kind of
fun, she thought. She cautiously reached up, and cupped his funny ball
things in her hand. He groaned, obviously enjoying himself, she
thought. She sucked a little harder, and he moved his hips, moving his
cock in and out of her mouth slightly. She got the hint, and began to
move her head forward and back, feeling the cap of his dick rub along
the top of her mouth. She sucked even harder, and he moaned again.

"Ophelia..." He said, sighing. "You are a precious child. I love you,
my dear, I love you. I love you."

She giggled. Silly old man, she thought. Of course you love me, I'm
young and sweet. And I'm letting you put your weenie in my mouth. She
sucked even harder, loving the way his weenie hardened each time she
did that. I will do this every night, she thought, if he wants me too.

This went on for quite some time. She enjoyed herself, although her
jaw finally got tired. She felt some twitches from his penis, inside
her mouth.

"Ophelia." He said. "I am going to... cum..."

Suddenly, his weenie gave a jerk, deep in her mouth. Something sprayed
from the end of it, and into her mouth. Again and again. She gulped
and swallowed, instinctively, and got most of it down, but some of it
splashed out and onto the floor. It had the funniest taste, to her,
kind of strong, kind of dusty... peculiar. This had been a week of
peculiar things for her, and this was just one more thing. She gulped
and slurped, and finally he stopped, and she gave him one more suck.
She could feel his penis softening, in her mouth. She knew, for some
reason she knew it was over, for now.

He lay her down, and then crawled up beside her, holding her, cuddling
with her. He kissed her, for the first time, and she wondered if he
could taste himself, on her lips. She could still taste it, in her
mouth.

It was several hours later when he entered her. She didn't cry nearly
as much, this time. It still hurt, though, but she dealt with it. She
was starting to like the feeling of him inside her, not the part at
first, but the part that came later. When she got to feeling all funny
inside. She like that feeling. A lot.

This time, he thought, this time she came good. Like a big girl. He
hoped she would get hooked on that feeling, he hoped that she'd start
to want it, every night. Some of his girls had, in the past. He had
high hopes for this one. She had started out well. She had seemed to
accept everything he'd done to her so far, even the things that hurt.
He was going to enjoy this one.





The next day, she caught up with Joycelyn on the playground, during
recess. She told her a little about the things she'd done, mostly just
hinting around. Joycelyn, of course, immediately picked up that
something was going on, and asked her a million questions. Finally
Ophelia told her that she'd seen the Maestro naked, and that he'd seen
her naked. And that he gave her a bath. That seemed safe, to tell. Of
course, Joycelyn was suspicious. She asked a million more questions.
Ophelia hinted that she'd touched his weenie, and Joycelyn giggled.
Joycelyn had touched a weenie before, a man in a family she'd stayed
with for a while. They compared notes, giggling. Joycelyn asked her if
she'd put it in her mouth. Not yet, said Ophelia. Maybe tonight. Ask
me tomorrow. The bell rang, and they went back in the building,
giggling.

That night, the Maestro helped her with her homework, and then gave
her a music lesson. He was hard, lord, she thought, he was a hard
teacher. He did not tolerate mistakes well, or at all. She tried very
hard to please him, and played better than she'd ever played. She was
good, and he was pleased. He told her that she had far to go, but she
was going to go far, whatever that meant.

He didn't give her a bath tonight, either. It had been three days,
now. He knew that she would taste amazing, and she did not disappoint
him. He licked and sucked her pussy for over an hour, and she came and
came and came again. She was amazed that he could make her feel that
good, with just his tongue. Her little pussy was bright red by now,
and pulsated, even when he wasn't licking it. He flipped her over, and
bent his face to her wonderful ass.

Her ass tasted incredible to him, and he licked and sucked for all he
was worth. So spicy, so tangy... incredible. Slightly poopy, but that
was the nature of assholes. He loved it. He spread her firm little
asscheeks apart, and pressed his tongue deep into her asshole, feeling
her sphincter as he pushed past it. He placed his lips into a circle,
and blew into her asshole as hard as he could, filling her colon with
his breath. He breathed into her again, and again, until she could no
longer hold it. She giggled as she farted loudly, and he laughed too,
loving the smell of her, the bitter smell of her farts. He did it
again and again. 

He turned her back over, and pushed his middle finger into her pussy,
finger-fucking her. She came again, and he fucked her fast, slamming
his knuckles into her pussy lips. He was pleased that she could let
herself go and have good orgasms, some girls couldn't relax like that,
some of his girls in the past he'd really had to work hard to get them
to cum, but not this one. She acted like she was an old pro. He
wondered if she'd had some experience, in fact, she was so accepting
of the things he did to her. He'd ask her, here in a few more days. It
didn't bother him if she did, in a way it helped him, it showed him
she knew how to keep her mouth shut.

He finally re-arranged her the way he liked, and pushed his hard penis
into her body. She cried again, a little bit, but finally seemed to
enjoy the feelings her body was sending her. He pumped away, and she
came, this time loud and very obvious. He was just in love with the
way she came, she kicked and thumped on the bed, and even banged her
head a time or two on the mattress. He was totally endeared with the
way that she came. He loved her more by now than he'd ever intended,
way more than what he considered safe. He knew he'd do anything to
keep her with him, he'd pay any price. He just hoped that nobody at
the home knew that. It was almost surprising, he mused, as he fucked
the young girl, it was almost surprising that nobody from the home had
ever tried to blackmail him yet. It was almost too obvious what he did
with the girls. It just plain looked suspicious, probably. Much less
if anyone ever talked to the girls. He'd only had one blab on him, and
the people at the home had just kind of laughed about it, because the
girl had told so many stories in the past. He'd got off lucky, on that
one. He'd felt bad that she got in trouble for telling the truth, but
hell. He didn't want to go to prison.

He hugged her precious little body to him as she came, and he finally
allowed himself to ejaculate, filling her small cunt with semen. She
felt so good, on his dick. She was so incredibly tight. He loved her,
he desperately loved her. He wanted to be fifteen again, or
twenty-five, or hell, even fifty-five. He wanted to be young, and make
love to her. He wanted to be young again, and spend the rest of his
life with her. She had trapped him in a trap he'd carefully made, he
realized. He was hooked. He loved her.





The next day, Joycelyn approached her immediately on the playground
and asked Ophelia if she'd put the Maestro's weenie in her mouth. She
giggled shyly, and looked at the ground and told the truth. She said,
"Yes."

Joycelyn giggled and asked her all kinds of questions, like what did
it taste like, and did that stuff come out of it, and did it get soft
afterwards, stuff like that. Ophelia answered as best she remembered,
and Joycelyn seemed satisfied.

"I want to do that too." Joycelyn finally said. "Ask him if I can
spend the night on Friday night."

Oh, Ophelia thought, that sounds like a good idea. Tomorrow was
Friday, and she promised to ask that very night.





That evening, though, the Maestro announced that they would be going
out of town for the weekend, down to Boston where one of his pieces
was being performed. They went to the basement, to the limo, and Chad
drove them to a fancy store where the Maestro bought her all kinds of
nice clothes, stuff like she'd never worn before. A dress, like a
princess's dress. She was amazed and shocked, to see herself in the
mirror, dressed up and looking like a princess or a fairy queen or
something. She almost cried, and did cry later in the limo, when she
thanked him. He looked flustered, and pleased, and he held her and
wiped her tears with his handkerchief. They went and bought her some
beautiful dress shoes, something that she thought looked like magic
slippers. She loved them more than any shoe she'd ever owned, and
planned on sleeping in them, even.

The next day school couldn't finish quick enough for her, and Chad and
the Maestro picked her up from school, and took her to a beauty shop,
where her hair was cut and permed beautifully. She felt like a big
girl now, and she gazed at herself with satisfaction in the mirror,
seeing a big girl. A big, beautiful girl. She was in love with
herself. As much as the Maestro loved her, she loved herself, at that
moment.

They packed up their clothes, and Chad took the suitcases down to the
limo. A short trip to the airport, and Ophelia climbed aboard her very
first airplane. The Maestro seemed charmed by her wide-eyed wonder,
and he loved her more than he ever though possible. She was so open
about everything, so amazed... she made him feel young again. She
gazed out at the window as the plane left the ground, and thought, it
just can't get any better than this.

When they arrived at Boston some confusion ensued as Chad tried to
find their rental limo, but finally all was well. They went to a
fabulous hotel, and up, higher and higher, to their room on the
forty-first floor. Ophelia just stared out the window in amazement, as
the lights of the city came on beneath them. The Maestro hurried her,
and she dressed in her beautiful dress, and put on her beautiful
shoes. They descended, and Chad took them to the concert hall.

Ophelia was stunned when they exited the limo. The Maestro had taken
her arm, like he was walking her down the aisle, and then he did just
that, walked her down the aisle. Like they were being married or
something. Thousands of people stood on either side and clapped for
him. She was astounded, she knew he was important, but she had no idea
he was this important. She was prouder of him than she thought
possible. A few stray thoughts went through her head, like what would
these people think if they saw me with his weenie in my mouth? She
giggled softly to herself, and strutted down the aisle, on his arm.

They were taken to a box, right beside the stage, and the next few
hours passed slowly. The music was interesting, but not really
Ophelia's style, and sure not two hours worth of it. She grew
restless, and looked around. No one was present. She stood, getting a
stern look from the Maestro, and she went to the door behind them. The
door had a lock, and she locked it. She sat back down.

She giggled softly to herself. She pulled up as much of her dress as
she could, and placed it over his lap. He glanced down at her again,
his face still stern. She giggled to herself, thinking, he hasn't
figured it out yet.

She ran her hand up under her dress, and found his crotch. He jumped,
and gazed down at her. She smiled up at him innocently, knowing that
he was going to like this. To like what she was going to do. Sure
enough, he did.

He helped her get his pants unzipped, and he pulled out his weenie. It
felt funny to Ophelia, she'd never touched it when it was soft before.
It hardened quickly, though, under her touch. She rubbed and stroked
it, pulling on it, squeezing it. The cap felt so funny to her, hard
and soft at the same time. She ran her hand down and played with his
balls, feeling them tighten and loosen. She was having a good time.

"Ophelia." He finally whispered. "Come to the front. Suck me,
darling."

He scooted right up to the wall in front, and she fell to her knees in
front of him. He knew that the people in other boxes couldn't see her,
see what she was doing, if he kept her right to the front. He felt her
warm, wet mouth wrap around his cock, and he sighed with pleasure.
This, truly, he thought, is the high point of my career. My best
piece, played for the world to hear, while my real best piece sucks my
cock. It was almost too much for him. He loved the little girl at that
moment so much that he thought his head would explode. Or his heart.

He came quickly, to his satisfaction, and he kept a straight face as
his dick pumped what felt like gallons of sperm into her talented
little mouth. He scooted back, and relaxed, and looked around. No one
seemed to be watching, and he raised her back up into her seat. She
was so precious, he thought, she didn't spill a drop that time. She
burped softly, and giggled, and he giggled too. He felt immensely
powerful. I fooled the world while I fucked her face, he thought.
Nothing was beyond him, at that moment. He felt like he was capable of
anything. He began to write, in his mind, a fabulous opera, with her
in mind. With a double meaning, a secret one, that only he would know.
About her. Her, and her fabulous little sexy body.

That night, with Chad safely in the room next door, the Maestro almost
attacked the child, he was still so turned on. She reciprocated, and
they giggled and wrestled around on the bed, finally leaping up and
going into the bathroom. He got the water just right, and they both
got into the shower, and he hugged her and loved on her beneath the
water, running his hands up and down her wonderful little body. She
was so breathtakingly sexy to him by now that he felt faint, at times,
just feeling of her. Just touching her. His penis had been hard for
two hours at least, and, without the help of Vaseline, he pushed into
her, pressing her up against the shower wall. She accepted him,
thought it took a while to get all the way in her, but she didn't cry
this time, she just took him in. He pumped, slowly and gently, until
he thought his legs were going to give out. He finally let himself
cum, after he had felt her cum beneath him. He wanted pleasure, but
even more, he wanted to give her pleasure, he wanted to give her
something that she'd value and remember him for.

He had already decided to write her into his will, and hell, he would
just give her everything, to keep it simple. She was that precious to
him. If she would stay, and keep loving him, she would have it all.
She'd deserve it all, he knew. He would be glad to do it, for her.
And, if he could just hold onto her, he'd die a happy man, he knew.

He finally washed his sperm from her legs, and from between her legs,
and they got out and dried off. He carried her to the bed, and gently
lay her down, and crawled up beside her. They watched the bigscreen
for a while, and then she surprised him, crawling down his body, and
taking his penis in her mouth. She sucked him up again, to a state of
hardness that made him proud. He finally grabbed her and placed her on
top of his body, and buried his face in her cunt as she sucked on him.
He licked her tasty little asshole, loving her flavor, dying of
happiness. Happiness is an asshole, he thought, a wonderful, tasty,
sexy little asshole. 
 
They finally just collapsed and slept, and woke to a pounding on the
door. The Maestro leapt up and staggered around, trying to get
dressed, while Ophelia went and yelled through the door to Chad.

"He says it's eight o'clock, when you wanted up." She told the
Maestro, and she went through her suitcase, picking out a pair of
jeans, a shirt, and some pink panties. They both dressed, and had
breakfast with Chad, and then the Maestro took her shopping, again. He
bought her all kinds of clothes, school clothes and play clothes, and
a few formal looking dresses. He enjoyed dressing her up, he almost
treated her like she was big doll, she thought. But she enjoyed it,
too, as much as he did. 

They spent another night in the hotel, to her great pleasure, and he
fucked her in the shower, again. Then he filled up the huge tub, and
they just lay in it for an hour, and talked. She amazed him,
constantly, her mixture of adult grown-upness combined with her little
girl innocence and wonder at the world just blew his mind. Oh, he
thought, she's anything but innocent, though. Her raw sexuality
excited him, that she seemed to know just what she wanted, and how to
turn herself on. He'd asked her, that evening, if she'd ever played
around with an adult before, if she'd ever had sex before. He knew, at
least, that she was a virgin when he'd taken her, but he knew a lot of
other things that you could do, without actually fucking.

Anyway, she had squirmed a bit, and finally said, "Kinda." When he'd
pressed her, she'd told him about letting a boy play with her butt,
once, and some kissing games they'd played, at the orphanage. He knew
that the orphanage was all girls, and that had turned him on, thinking
of little girls kissing each other, and she had told him several
stories that excited him. 

Well, she thought, maybe this is a good time to tell him about
Joycelyn.

"Maestro...." She finally said, climbing on top of him, sitting in his
lap, and rubbing her naked bottom on his crotch. He laughed down at
her. If she asks for a million dollars right now, he thought, I'll
give it to her. Hell, a billion. I'll borrow what I have to, and give
it to her.

"My friend Joycelyn from the home wants to spend the night... can
she?" Whew, that was simple, and cheap. And easy.

"Sure, darling." He said. "I'll try and arrange it for next weekend.
Okay?" She nodded and smiled, pleased, and lay down against his chest,
hugging him. Sweet jeezus, he thought, this child has seduced me, has
stolen me. I cannot imagine saying no to her. How did she wiggle under
my skin so quickly? How did I lose control, so quickly? He placed his
arms around her, and hugged her against his body.





The next weekend everything worked out perfectly for Ophelia. The
Maestro had approached the headmistress of the girl's home, and she
had been happy to sign Joycelyn out for the weekend. Ophelia and Chad
went and picked her up, to the envy of all the other girls, and they
drove away in the limo, giggling.

Ophelia had felt like the Maestro wouldn't approve of her telling
Joycelyn of her sexual escapades with him, so the two of them had
decided to just make it look like an accident. They'd just play around
with him, and slowly start the sex stuff up. Joycelyn was eager to get
it going. She was hungry for love.

That night, after Chad and the maid and the cook had left, the two of
them watched TV in the living room. Finally the Maestro, who had been
in his composition room, appeared, and he joined them. Ophelia crawled
onto his lap, and they wrestled around a little like they did, except
that his time, of course, they had on clothes. Joycelyn sat on the
floor and watched them, her legs spread, and her dress pulled up, to
where her panties were in full sight. Ophelia giggled, watching the
Maestro stare at Joycelyn's crotch. She rubbed his crotch, and felt
his hardness, and giggled some more.

"Come on, let's get ready for bed." Ophelia finally said, and they
went into her room. Ophelia had an idea, and motioned Joycelyn not to
change yet. They took their choices back out to the living room, and
changed there, in full view of the Maestro. He just sat back, laughing
and watching, as the two sexy little girls stripped down to nothing,
and pulled their nightshirts on. No panties, Ophelia had made Joycelyn
leave hers in the bedroom. He knew they didn't have panties on, and he
could see more often that not, as they wrestled and rolled around on
the floor. Finally Ophelia crawled back up on his lap, and idly took
his hand in hers, drawing it down to her crotch. She just sat there as
she rubbed her, and they watched TV for a few minutes, with Joycelyn
on the floor, looking up at them every now and then.

Finally Joycelyn stood, and approached. The Maestro held out his hand,
and she crawled up on top of him, sitting on one leg as Ophelia sat on
the other. He hesitantly moved his hand forward, and touched Joycelyn
on the leg, an inch from her pussy. She grunted, and grabbed his hand,
and pressed it into her little pussy, and that was all it took. The
next hour passed quietly, as the two little girls watched TV, and he
rubbed and stroked and petted their little cunts. He loved to put his
fingertip on their clit, and wiggle his hand, and feel them writhe and
wiggle beneath him. He knew it felt good. Clits were always good for
sending electrical shocks of pleasure throughout the whole system. He
loved their little clits.

He knew they'd both cum, more than once. Joycelyn wasn't as quiet as
Ophelia, and there was no doubt when she'd cum. He just kept going and
going, again and again, feeling pleased that he was giving them so
much pleasure. Glad to do it for you, my little angels, he thought.
Glad to do it for you.

Ophelia finally had enough of that, and dropped from his lap. She
turned, and tried to work his zipper, but he had to unzip it for her.
She reached in, and drew his long, hard cock out. Joycelyn just
stared, entranced. Ophelia sucked it into her mouth, drawing it in and
out, sucking hard enough to be heard. He pulled his balls out, and she
grabbed them with her hand, kneading them. She finally pulled his cock
out of her mouth with a pop, and motioned to Joycelyn.

Now that the moment of truth was upon her, Joycelyn acted a little
shy. She finally hesitantly took his cock in her hand, and regarded it
from a few inches away.

"Come on, Joyce." Said Ophelia. "There's nothing to it. Just put it
in, and suck!" She giggled, and finally Joycelyn giggled, and did just
that. She popped his cock into her mouth, and sucked. He was in
heaven. Two cute little fucktoys... this was just too much... 

Joycelyn worked him over good, taking advice from Ophelia, licking the
cap, licking up and down the shaft, and sucking like a little vacuum
cleaner. The girl had some suction, he thought, pleased. He wondered
if he dared to cum in her mouth. He'd warn her, first, at least.

Ophelia did it for him. "When the stuff come out," She said, "You just
gotta swallow as quick as you can. Don't be scared, it tastes okay."

Joycelyn nodded, as best she could, with the Maestro in her mouth. She
sucked and sucked, and finally he just relaxed, and let himself go. He
was rubbing Ophelia's little clit, so she didn't feel left out, and he
felt a contraction from his prostate, and knew he was about to cum.

"Here it comes, darling." He touched Joycelyn on the shoulder, and she
nodded again. When he finally did cum, she took it like a pro, only
letting a few drops splash down her front. He came and came and came,
turned on by this new girl, and turned on by the old girl. He'd never
dreamed that this would happen, when Ophelia asked him if Joycelyn
could spend the night, and he wondered if he'd been set up. If she'd
planned this all along. These little orphan girls, he thought. Too
much. Just too much.

They all cuddled for a while, and then retired to the bedroom. The
Maestro wasn't too sure about actually fucking Joycelyn, but Ophelia
was already ahead of him. When they all got in the bed, she began
telling Joycelyn all about it.

"It'll hurt a little bit at first, but it's worth it, and it really
makes you feel good. Real good."

"Is there blood?" Joycelyn asked, and Ophelia regarded her blankly.

"Blood? I dunno..." She turned to the Maestro, and he nodded, wanting
to be honest with the girls.

"There was not with you, Ophelia." He said. "But sometimes there is.
And Ophelia is right, it is painful. You should not do it, if you
think you cannot stand the pain."

Joycelyn thought about it a moment, and then somberly nodded her head.
"I'll try. I'll try it, I guess."

"It's worth it, dear." Said Ophelia, kissing the other girl. The
Maestro was struck with an idea.

"First, my children." He said. "I would like to see you two taste each
other. To see you pleasure each other."

They both just stared at him blankly. He touched Ophelia's lips, and
then touched Joycelyn's sweet cunt. Ah, they got it. They both started
giggling, and Ophelia literally crawled on top of Joycelyn, turned
herself around, and pressing her little cunt into Joycelyn's face. She
dropped her face to the other girl's cunt, and began to lick. There
passed an enjoyable twenty minutes, as the girls licked and sucked
each other, and the Maestro stroked his cock, content just to watch.
They were truly two little sexpots, he though. So uninhibited, so
naturally sexual. Amazing.

Joycelyn was on top, now. Ophelia finally sat up, and pushed the other
girl down slightly, and bent her lips to Joycelyn's sweet little
asshole. The taste was amazing to her, sharp and bitter almost, but
incredibly sexual. Ophelia loved the feel of the other girl's body
beneath her own, and the taste of her in her mouth. Ophelia was glad
that the Maestro had showed her about sex, she'd wondered about it
before, but never realized it could be so much fun.

The Maestro finally lifted Joycelyn off Ophelia, and lay her on the
bed, in the middle. He reached for the jar of Vaseline, and rubbed in
a few fingerfulls, right into her sweet little cunt. He smeared some
more on his cock, and then moved up, towards her body. Ophelia crawled
up, and cradled Joycelyn's head inbetween her legs.

The Maestro positioned his cock at the mouth of Joycelyn's vagina, and
began to push in, slowly. As with Ophelia, he knew the instant her
maidenhead ruptured, by the look of pain and the tears. Ophelia leaned
down, and smothered her face with kisses, trying to kiss the pain
away. He gently went all the way in, feeling the tightness of her,
knowing that he could cum in an instant, if he let himself. She felt
as good as Ophelia had felt, very tight.

He pumped in and out of her, gently. She finally seemed to calm down
and enjoy it, and the tears stopped. He hoped she could cum. He began
to speed up slightly, and she drew a few gasping breaths. He felt like
she was enjoying it already.

She came so quick and early that it caught him by surprise. She
writhed and wiggled beneath him, and her breath came in gulps. Her
eyes rolled back in her head, and she moaned and grunted. Ophelia
kissed her some more. He felt like she had cum, and had a good one.
She finally relaxed and opened her eyes, and smiled up at him.

"Was it good for you, little one?" He asked, and she nodded shyly. He
laughed, and looked at Ophelia, who was smiling also.

"Would you like a turn, too, darling?" He asked, and she nodded,
grinning. God, he thought, getting to fuck two young girls at once, it
cannot get any better than this. I have died and gone to heaven.





They took Joycelyn back to the home Sunday night. The Maestro had
fucked her five times, by them, five times in the course of three
evenings. Ophelia thought Joycelyn was happy, and promised her that
they could do it again. Maybe next weekend, who knew. She knew the
Maestro was happy, and that he would agree. And Ophelia had a pretty
good weekend, herself.





The next few months passed in a blur. Life was good for Ophelia, and
she enjoyed herself greatly. The price she had to pay to live like
this, even, didn't seem that bad to her. She actually enjoyed almost
everything that the Maestro did to her, except for once when he tried
to put it in her butt. We just won't go there. Everything else,
though, was fun and felt good, and had the added attraction of being
naughty. She loved that feeling, like she was getting away with
something, something naughty. She knew what people would think of the
things she let him do to her, her teachers and the matrons at the
home, and it gave her a secret thrill to do them so readily, so
wickedly. It was just plain fun. 

Joycelyn often spent weekends with her, the people at the orphanage
were always glad to release her. The Maestro seemed to have a lot of
pull with them. Joycelyn's visits because more and more overtly
sexual, with both Ophelia and the Maestro. The two girls just wore him
out, sometimes. 

One night, a former student of the Maestro's, came to visit. The men
spent the evening just sitting around and talking, while Ophelia
mostly just sat and played on her phone. 

"Ophelia." The Maestro said, and she sat up and took notice. "Steven
is a very close friend, and we share everything. I would like to share
you, if you don't mind."

She didn't exactly know what he meant, but she had a pretty good idea.
She liked Steven, he was young and handsome, and had given her a
twenty dollar bill, just because, he said. She nodded shyly.

The Maestro laughed. He motioned Steven to her, and then he went and
made sure the door was locked. By the time he'd gotten back, Steven
had unzipped his pants, and was pulling his cock out. He wasn't as big
as the Maestro, she thought, but he had a nice one. She leaned
forward, and wrapped her arms around his legs as she slid his cock
into her mouth. She was good, by now, and she knew it. That she was
good because she loved doing it so much hadn't occurred to her yet,
but that was why. Steven had had a thousand blow jobs from girls all
over the world, but he was in love with this little girl at once. She
was so sweet and innocent looking, yet she sucked cock like a Parisian
streetwalker. Jeezus. He felt his asshole pucker, she sucked so hard.
He came in just a few moments, filling her mouth with his fresh young
seed, and she loved it. She slurped it up, sucking harder, wanting
every drop of it. When she got done she giggled up at him, and he
smiled down at her.

"You are the luckiest man in the world, Maestro." Steven said, zipping
his pants back up. The Maestro stood, and unzipped. Ophelia moved over
to him, and dropped to her knees.

"I know it, Steven. Isn't she the most precious thing?" the Maestro
said.

Steven nodded, watching her take the Maestro's large cock in her
mouth.

"She is divine. She is an absolute angel." He finally said, shaking
his head. She could feel him, a few feet away, wanting her. She knew,
somehow, that he would move heaven and earth for her, if she asked.
Just like the Maestro. She giggled, and sucked. She sucked for all she
was worth, which was a lot.





That night, Steven had made a bed on the couch with blankets, and
settled in. She went to bed with the Maestro, as she always did, and
he ate her little pussy and then fucked her vigorously, as he always
did. But, she noticed, he did not cum. He did not squirt his stuff
inside her, like he usually did. When he got done, he grasped her by
the shoulders, and spoke to her.

"Go to him, child. Make him happy. Make him remember you. Someday, I
hope, when I am gone, you will belong to him."

That was a little strange, she thought, but she opened the door, and
went to him.

He seemed surprised to see her appear, wraith-like and naked, out of
the dimness. He sat up, and she climbed up next to him, and giggled.
That was all he needed. He leaned down and kissed her, a long long
kiss, the longest, she thought. She felt his hot hands on her body. He
rubbed her little ass, reaching down through her legs to stroke her
pussy. She moaned, and climbed up on top of him. His hands were
everywhere on her, and they felt good. She burrowed beneath the
blanket, and felt his naked body on hers. He was nude. Good. She
rubbed on his penis, feeling its hardness, remembering it's taste
earlier that evening.

They just lay there, for an hour, maybe, kissing and rubbing on each
other. He stroked her pussy, and she came, and came again. She amazed
him, at how easy she came. He already loved her as much as the
Maestro, maybe more. He was young and intense, and he did not give his
love easily. Not until now. How did that grouchy, crusty old fart ever
come up with something this delectable, this delightful? he asked
himself, puzzled. Where did he say he found her? At an orphanage? He
could no more imagine Ophelia as a sad little parent-less orphan than
anything. She was the most beautiful, wonderful little creature he'd
ever met. And she fucked around, too. Delightful.

He finally got her situated like he wanted, and he plastered his face
into her sweet cunt. He figured the Maestro had fucked her this
evening, but he didn't mind. He couldn't taste it, at least. All he
could taste was her sweetness, her incredible pussy taste. He licked
for what felt like hours, feeling her tremble and writhe above him, as
she came and came again. She was just too much. His dick ached, it had
been hard for so long. He was pre-cumming like a madman. He finally
just could wait no longer.

He lay her down, and crawled between her legs. He raised himself over
her, and brought his penis down into her crack, to the mouth of her
cunt. Her cunt looked so beautiful to him, spread slightly, pink and
red in all the right places... how sad it was so dark... he pressed
himself into her. He had to move slowly, and back out, in and out, in
and out, as his cock lubricated itself with her juices. He knew he
wasn't as big as the Maestro, and he hoped it would help a little.
God, she was tight, though, she was the tightest cunt he'd ever
fucked. Finally his groin met hers. He was in. He withdrew, and
stabbed in. She grunted, and moaned. He did it again, and she did it
again. He knew she was enjoying it. He was right, she was.

There followed one of the most enjoyable times of his life. This, he
thought, this is the standard that all future fucks will be measured
against. This might be the high point of my whole life. What will
become of this sweet little girl, he thought, living with this old
grouch? What will become of her, in a few years, when, as he must,
this old fart dies? Who will she go too? Will she be old enough to be
on her own? I must stay in touch with him better, he thought. I must
be one of his choices for what to do with her.

Steven wasn't really a pedophile. He had fucked the Maestro's girls
before, two of them, the first when he was barely older than she was.
He liked big girls, but now he realized that he liked little girls,
too. He just plain liked girls. The last girl, the last of the
Maestro's girls he'd fucked, had been sixteen. He had almost been
shocked this afternoon to meet Ophelia, since he knew without being
told that the Maestro was fucking her. It's just what the Maestro did.
He was surprised that she'd been so young. Almost as surprised as at
how good a blow job she had given him. He understood a little more, at
that. And now, getting to fuck her, he got the whole picture. He
wondered if the Maestro had known, before hand, or if he just gotten
lucky, and got a good one. 

She finally came, hard, the high point of his evening. I did that, he
thought, as she bucked and gyrated beneath him. I did that. I made her
feel that good. He was proud of himself.

They just lay there, him on top of her, for a while. He murmured stuff
in her ear, his plans for the future, and his promise to her, that one
day she would be his. She giggled at that one. She didn't really care,
either way. She knew that she'd be provided for, now. She knew without
thinking about it that her standard of living would probably never be
lower than it was right now. That's what she felt like she'd stumbled
into. And all, it seemed like to her, because of a few piano lessons.
Well, really a lifetime of piano lessons. She was glad, now, of the
time she'd spent practicing. It had done her well, with the Maestro.

She finally crawled down from Steven's couch, and went back to the
Maestro. She woke him up crawling into bed, and he asked her a few
questions, and then hugged her to sleep. She was happy.





Even more months passed. The winter finally finished, thank goodness,
Ophelia thought. She hated the cold. And this city was the worst ever.
Well, she'd just heard that, she'd never lived anywhere else but here.
It's all she knew. Anyway, spring was finally in the air. The Opera
season was starting up, and, for the first time in many years, the
Maestro had a new one to premier. They traveled, and had to get a
private tutor to travel with them, Ophelia would miss so much school
otherwise. Her tutor was a beautiful young woman named Gwendolyn, and
Ophelia was captivated by her. She was everything that Ophelia hoped
to be someday, smart and beautiful, and self-confident... she was good
for Ophelia to be around. Even the Maestro felt it. He had a long talk
with Ophelia, though, about outsiders and their situation, even though
nothing he told her she didn't already know. About what people would
think of them, the sex thing. Ophelia knew that already, and knew it
well. She knew that he'd get in trouble, and that she probably would,
too. He tried to convince her otherwise, to his credit, but she still
figured she'd at least get a little bit in trouble. Probably have to
go to kid jail, even. He laughed at that, and insisted that there was
no such thing as kid jail. Ophelia knew better, she'd been threatened
with it at the orphanage, many times. No, she was not going to tell
anyone, not Gwendolyn or anyone. Maybe Joycelyn, she thought to
herself, who knew everything already anyway.

They traveled to the West coast, and spent a few enjoyable weeks as
the Maestro prepared the debut of his new opera with the San Francisco
Orchestra. She spent her days with Gwendolyn, and they often traveled
throughout the city, seeing things and doing things that Gwen could
somehow manage to fit into Ophelia's lessons. Evenings and nights she
spent with the Maestro, often just holing up in their hotel room, and
sometimes traveling about the city. There was a million things to see,
and Ophelia wanted to see them all.

One day Gwendolyn seemed upset, and Ophelia pressed her about it. To
her surprise, Gwendolyn burst into tears. Ophelia hugged her, and
finally got the story, that Gwen's boyfriend back home had broken up
with her, because he never saw her anymore. Ophelia felt bad for her,
and comforted her as best she could, not really knowing what to do.
They finally headed back to the hotel, school work done for the day.
Gwen moped around the room, and they ordered room service for lunch.
After that Ophelia grew bored, and her mind raced for things to do.
She remembered her time with Joycelyn, when Joycelyn had spent the
night. That was fun, now.

She finally went to Gwen, and crawled into her lap. Gwen wasn't much
larger than Ophelia, and it was a tight fit. They both giggled at
that. Finally Ophelia put her face right in the other girl's face, and
gave her a talking too.

"Gwen. Dearest. Forget that boy, he's not worth your time if he don't
wait for you, darlin'. Just forget him." She said, in a low voice.
Gwen giggled. She continued. "You got everything you need here, you
got me, right? I can do better than him, right?"

Gwen nodded, giggling. She didn't know how serious Ophelia was, yet.

"I know what girls like because I'm a girl, darlin'." Ophelia leaned
forward, and gave her a big kiss, right on the lips. A big long kiss.
She probed Gwendolyn's mouth with her tongue, and the other girl
snorted in surprise.

"Shhh...." Ophelia said, and kissed her again. The second time she
felt like Gwen was definitely kissing back. She tried her tongue
again, and slid it easily into the older girl's mouth. She giggled.

"Ophelia." Gwen sat back, pulling away. "Darling... I know you're
trying to cheer me up, but this is not really the way... it's not
proper..."

Ophelia giggled. "I don't care." She whispered. "I don't care what's
proper or not. I just like to kiss. Please, please kiss me,
Gwendolyn... please?"

Gwendolyn sighed, acted like it was a big deal. "Well, okay." She
finally said, and they both giggled. Their lips met again. This one
was good, Ophelia thought. And the next was even better. Gwendolyn was
a good kisser. That stupid guy don't know what he's missin', thought
Ophelia. This girl is sweet.

They were sitting on the bed in Gwendolyn's room. Gwendolyn finally
lay back, and drew Ophelia down on top of her. They kissed and kissed,
as time seemed to stand still. Finally Gwendolyn looked at her watch,
and sat up in horror.

"My god!" She said. "The Maestro will be here any minute!" They both
giggled. There wasn't anything they had to do to be ready for him.
They went back to kissing, until they heard the door unlock next door.
It had been a very satisfying afternoon to Ophelia, even if all she
got to do was kiss. She felt like things were warming up between her
and Gwendolyn. And who knew, she thought, she might even get better
grades for this. Just before they went into the other room, she leaned
forwards and gave Gwendolyn a last quick kiss. She said, "We'll do
more of this tomorrow, yes?"

Gwendolyn just looked at her and nodded. Yes. Good. Ophelia was happy.





She spent an enjoyable evening with the Maestro, and then an enjoyable
night being fucked by him. They had a huge bathroom in their room,
with a giant hot tub, and they spent what seemed like hours in the
tub, wrestling around and just being silly. She made him feel like a
kid sometimes, he thought, as he played with her. He played with her
in a non-sexual way, as well as sexual, he noticed. She was good for
him.

Ophelia was ready when he finally lifted her up to sit on the side of
the tub. He bent his face to her cunt, and began to lick. Tomorrow,
she promised herself, tomorrow Gwendolyn is gonna go there. And I'm
gonna do it to her, until she begs for mercy.





Strangely, Gwendolyn acted like she couldn't wait to get started the
next morning, when the Maestro finally left. They were sitting in the
main suite, on the couch, and Gwendolyn just reached down and kissed
Ophelia. Ophelia, of course, warmed right up. She'd rather kiss than
do schoolwork, that was for sure. They kissed for an hour, until
somebody banged on the door. It was Chad, wondering if they needed to
go anywhere today. Nope, said Gwendolyn, we're gonna stay here and do
schoolwork all day. Ophelia had a hard time not giggling at that one.
Gwen handed Chad a twenty, and told him to take the day off, until the
Maestro called him. He bowed, told her thanks, and left.

"Now." Said Gwendolyn. "Where were we?"

Ophelia giggled. She did the finger-crook thing that means come here.
They went into the small suite where Gwen stayed, and Ophelia locked
the door. She checked the door to the hallway. Also locked. She
stopped, and stared at Gwendolyn.

"What?" Said Gwen.

Ophelia didn't say a word. She grasped her shirt by the hem, and
pulled it over her head, and threw it on the floor. She unsnapped her
jeans, and let them drop to the floor. Gwendolyn looked pretty
surprised by now. Positively shocked. Ophelia slid her panties down
her legs, and stood before the other girl, stark naked.

"Ophelia..." Gwendolyn didn't really know what to say. She clenched
one hand in the center of her chest. She looked uncomfortable.
"Ophelia, I don't know what you thought that meant, that kissing... I
shouldn't have... I'm sorry..."

"Gwendolyn." Ophelia said. She knew she had the power. Steven had
shown her that, and the Maestro, to a lesser degree. She was
overshadowed by the strength of the Maestro's personality, but at the
same time, by now, she had realized her power over him. The power of
love, but she didn't really realize that yet, she didn't think of it
that way. She just saw it as power, the power to get what she wanted.
And she knew, now, what she wanted.

"Gwendolyn. Darling." She approached the other girl. Gwendolyn almost
looked terror-stricken, by now. Ophelia climbed up on the bed, and
took the older girl in her arms. She pressed her mouth to Gwen's, and
they kissed, Gwendolyn just out of habit. She finally pulled back,
when she had time to think about what was happening.

"Ophelia... I don't think..." Gwendolyn started, and Ophelia put her
finger over the other girl's mouth.

"Shhhh..." She said. "Gwendoly. Don't think. Just let me love on you."

"I... I..." Gwendolyn tried to say, but Ophelia blocked her mouth with
her own mouth. She leaned further and further into Gwendolyn, forcing
the other girl back down onto the bed. She finally pulled back, and
fumbled for the buttons on Gwendolyn's blouse.

"Don't... Ophelia... please..." Gwendolyn said, but it sounded pretty
weak. Ophelia didn't stop. She got all the buttons undone, and spread
the shirt wide open. Of course Gwendolyn had a bra on... too bad it
wasn't a fasten-in-the-front kind, Ophelia thought. She leaned down,
and lightly kissed the other girl on the belly. She licked her belly
button, finally getting a giggle. She reached herself up, and with her
lips felt a little knot of hardness inside Gwendolyn's brassiere about
where she thought the girl's nipple should be.

"Gwendolyn." Ophelia finally said. "Get yourself undressed, girl."





An hour later, Ophelia felt like Gwen was ready. They had kissed until
they were dizzy, and their lips ached. She had tasted Gwendolyn's
sweet tits off and on, but always returning to her fantastic lips. She
finally slowly, sensuously let herself slide down the girl's body,
until she could smell her sweet beautiful pussy. She hungered for a
taste of it, she remembered the taste of Joycelyn's, and hope this one
was as good. Gwendolyn gave a half-hearted, "No... please..." but all
Ophelia heard was "Yes, yes!"

Gwendolyn had pussy hair. That was something new, to Ophelia. Well,
not that new, the Maestro had hair around his dick... she guessed most
adults had hair, down there. She finally spread Gwendolyn's pussy lips
apart, and plastered her lips down on them. The girl tastes good, she
thought, and it was true. Gwendolyn had a definite taste, and it was
good. She licked all around Gwendolyn's cunt, finally sticking her
tongue into it as far as she could. She licked down further and
further, and Gwendolyn, like Joycelyn before her, and like Ophelia did
for the Maestro, spread her legs and arched her back so Ophelia could
reach her perineum and asshole with her tongue. She loved the taste of
the girl, there, too, earthy and strong, kind of poopy, but very sexy.
Ophelia could feel her own cunt growing moist, and she was ready, very
ready, to fuck around. She wished the Maestro was here, to fuck her
while she tasted Gwendolyn's pussy. She would ask him, tonight. She
would tell him about this, and ask him if she could invite Gwendolyn
in for some fun. Surely he wouldn't mind. And Gwendolyn, now that
she'd gone this far, now that she'd done this to and with Ophelia,
couldn't say much about it. She'd been an active participant. Ophelia
didn't really think all that out, she just knew that if Gwendolyn had
played around with her, she couldn't say much. He'd understand. Her
mind swarmed with possibilities.

When Gwendolyn bent her face down to Ophelia's sweet cunt, Ophelia
just went wild. It always feels better, she thought, when a girl does
it. Girls know, they have one too. Guys are okay, but if you really
want your pussy licked, choose a girl. She writhed and pulled on the
sheets, and just went wild. She came, and came, and came again, like
the song says. Gwendolyn seemed to enjoy herself. I must taste good,
thought Ophelia. She's eating me like I'm candy.

They finally stopped for a while and just held each other, exhausted.
Ophelia kissed and nuzzled the other girl, murmuring silly things to
her, and giggling at the things Gwendolyn said back to her.

"Ophelia, you little fox." Gwendolyn said. "This isn't gonna make your
schoolwork any easier. I'm still your teacher."

"Damn." Said Ophelia, and Gwendolyn spanked her saucy little butt.

"That's for cussing." Said Gwendolyn, and giggled.

"Damn damn damn damn damn." Said Ophelia, and Gwendolyn spanked her
every time, and they both giggled.

"Spank me." Said Ophelia, and Gwendolyn sat up, bemused. Ophelia
draped herself over the other girl's knees.

"I've been a bad girl." Said Ophelia. "I've said damn, and shit, and
fuck, and cunt. I've said them all. Spank me, hard, dammit."

Gwendolyn finally stopped giggling, and smacked Ophelia a good one,
right on her left buttock. It stung.

"Oh, yes." Said Ophelia. "Like that. Oh, yes."

Gwendolyn pounded her good, six or seven times. Ophelia felt the pain,
and felt alive. She loved the hurt, a little bit of hurt feels good
sometimes, she though. Gwendolyn stopped, and kissed her butt, and
rubbed her hand over it, rubbing the pain away. Ophelia jumped as her
hand smacked her again, and again and again. They played the game
until Gwendolyn's hand started to hurt. Ophelia's butt felt hot and
tender, but oh, it felt so good when they finally stopped, Ophelia
knew it had been worth it. Gwendolyn kissed and licked her sweet ass,
finally spreading it apart and licking Ophelia's sexy little asshole.
God, Gwendolyn thought, god forgive me, but I love this shit. I love
this little girl. I love making love to her. I never knew this about
myself, but, god, I love this shit.

"Gwendolyn." Ophelia sat up. "Gwendolyn, have you had a cum yet?"

"No..."

"Lay down." Ophelia commanded, and took her place between Gwendolyn's
legs. "Relax. And cum."

Ophelia began to lick and suck, concentrating on the older girl's
clit. Oh, thought Gwendolyn, this is heaven, heaven is a young girl's
mouth... she felt the contractions already in her legs... she knew
that she would cum, and cum, and cum again. Just like the song said.





Ophelia opened her eyes. She lay, on Gwendolyn's bed, wrapped in
Gwendolyn's arms. Somebody knocked softly on the door. It was the
Maestro. She jiggled Gwendolyn's arm, and woke her up. They dressed,
hurriedly, and Gwendolyn opened the door to the Maestro's suite. They
entered, and he bowed to them.

"Ladies." He said, and they both giggled.

"Ladies, if you wish, would you accompany me to the rehearsal tonight?
It's the first dress rehearsal, and I'd like you both to be there. And
there is a party, afterwards. Gwendolyn? Would you join us?"

"Oh heavens, Maestro, certainly." Gwendolyn laughed. She was in awe of
the man, Ophelia could tell. Ophelia was glad Gwendolyn was going.
These things got boring sometimes. It would be fun to have someone
there.

"Gwen." She said. "Help me pick out something to wear."




The dress rehearsal went well, and the Maestro was pleased. Good,
thought Ophelia, he'll be in a good mood now. They all piled into one
of a hundred limos, and headed to the club where the party was. There
was a moment's confusion about Ophelia being allowed into the club,
until the Maestro set his face into a stern look, and said loudly,
"She's with me." The doorman didn't give them any trouble after that,
and, well, the tip the Maestro had passed them probably helped too.

Ophelia had massive fun at the club, dancing out on the dance floor
with Gwendolyn, and other cast members. Some of the guys even held her
up on their shoulders and danced, and passed her from shoulder to
shoulder. She had a great time. She even took two sips from the
Maestro's drink, before he caught her and gave her a lecture about the
evils of alcohol. He was wasting his time, she thought, it was the
nastiest stuff she'd ever tasted, but hell, she thought, I had to try.

Gwendolyn was dancing, face to face, with some guy from the cast.
Ophelia just looked at her and shook her head. That girl. She was glad
for her, though, she hoped that Gwendolyn found someone to take her
mind off that idiot back in the big city. She knew that Gwendolyn
would always make time for her. She knew that Gwendolyn, just like the
Maestro, and Steven, was hooked on her. 





That night, when they got back to the hotel, the Maestro carried her
sleeping form out of the limo, into and out of the elevator, and to
their door, where he wished Gwendolyn a good night. He carried her
into the room, and lay her gently on the bed. After showing Chad out
and locking both doors, he slowly undressed her, running his hands
over her sleeping body. He loved her so much he feared for his sanity.
He wondered how to tell her, or anyone, that his opera had been about
her, about trying to put his love for her into words. He kind of
thought it'd be better to wait, until she was a little older, at
least. If I live that long, he thought. He gently pulled the sheets up
to her chin, and bent, giving her a kiss on the cheek. It was the
first night since she'd came to live with him that he hadn't fucked
her. He could give up one night, though. He could do that, just once.





The next day, Gwendolyn, as before, with the kissing, seemed almost
eager to fuck around. By nine o'clock in the morning, they were laying
on Gwendolyn's bed, their faces buried in each others cunts. By ten
they'd both cum half a dozen times, and by noon they were exhausted.
They just lay, side by side, and tried to recover. It's no wonder we
went to sleep the other day, Ophelia thought.

"Gwen... tell me about your boyfriend, your new one..." Ophelia said.
Gwendolyn giggled.

"He's not my boyfriend, silly... he's just a guy in the cast..."

"You guys were dancin' pretty close..."

"Yeah... like that means a lot, to an actor..."

"Are you gonna... do it with him? Are you gonna fuck him?"

"Child." Gwendolyn turned and just stared at Ophelia. "Where do you
pick this shit up from?"

Ophelia giggled. "I don't know what else to call it. When a guy sticks
his weenie in you."

"Well, for starters, making love sounds much better than fucking.
Technically? Having intercourse, although I admit that sounds pretty
clinical and impersonal. I always liked making love, though."

"Okay, okay. Are you gonna... make love with him? To him?"

"Oh, Ophelia, I don't know, I mean, I just met him, that night. That's
a bit quick, don't you think?"

"I dunno... I'd do it, though. If I was you, I'd do it."

"You'd do anybody, you little minx!" Gwendolyn buried her face in
Ophelia's hair. "I mean, look, you did me!"

Ophelia laughed softly. You're getting good at this, she told herself.
Let's go for it. Let's get the Maestro involved.

"Gwendolyn. Can I tell you a secret? A really, really big secret?"

"Well, I don't know. Can you?"

"That's what I'm asking you. Can I? Can I trust you not to tell a
single soul, no matter what?"

"That big, eh."

"Yes, that big. And Gwendolyn, me and you have... secrets of our own,
now, too."

That sobered Gwendolyn. She realized that she'd probably gone way over
the line with this child. She'd never done anything like this in her
life, before. She'd certainly never done anything like this with any
of the other children she'd tutored, although she'd felt the
attraction from some of the boys. How did this little girl get under
my skin so quickly? she thought. Was that a gentle reminder, of that?
That she had crossed the line? That she could be held responsible...
responsible for what? Contributing to the delinquency of a minor? Or
something... more sexual in nature.

"Yes, darling." She finally said. "I'm aware of that. I will keep your
secret, forever, I promise."

"Pinky promise."

Ophelia had to show her all the stuff to do for that one. They finally
got done.

"Okay, what is it?" Said Gwendolyn, now curious.

"Gwen... if you're lonely, and your boyfriend don't work out... of
course, I'll always be here for you... but if you want more, if you
want a guy... think about the Maestro. He's good at it, I know."

Gwendolyn just lay there and stared at her. What, she thought, what
have I gotten myself into. I do not even want to know how this child
knows that.

But, of course, it was the first thing she asked. "Ophelia. Darling.
How do you know that?"

"Gwendolyn." Ophelia actually looked around, like she was afraid of
somebody hearing her. "I have done it with him. I have... made love
with him."

Oh, sweet jeezus, Gwendolyn thought, tears welling up in her eyes. She
grabbed Ophelia and hugged her close. "Oh, you poor baby, you poor
sweet darling..." She breathed.

Ophelia just giggled. "Don't feel sorry for me." A little white lie
appeared in her head. This will make it easier for her to understand,
she thought. "Gwendolyn. I did to him what I did to you. I made him do
it. He is powerless against me, just as you are."

She giggled, and got a little giggle out of Gwendolyn. Ophelia knew
that the girl still had problems with the thought of an old man and a
young child.

"Gwendolyn. He's very sweet and gentle with me." She punctuated her
speech with kisses. "He's very good to me. He buys me anything I want.
And he lets me have any friends I want, like you, for instance."

"Ophelia... little one... it's just... not done, not proper. Children
shouldn't have sex, and they surely shouldn't have sex with adults."

Ophelia was quiet for a while, as her mind raced.

"I guess." She finally said. "But, it just feels so good... and I know
it feels good for him, and for you... what's wrong with that?"

"Oh, Ophelia..." Gwendolyn clasped the child even closer. "Someday
you'll understand... I just don't want you to have regrets, someday...
about what I've done with you, and about him."

"I don't think I will..." Ophelia really didn't think she would. But,
of course, she was just a kid.

"Oh, we never think that, do we." Gwendolyn hugged and rocked her,
holding her body tightly. " And I'm your teacher, remember? And we do
need to do a little schoolwork, every now and then. I see I have let
this get out of hand..."

"Gwen. I'm serious. If you just want a man, try the Maestro. I'll even
help you get started with him. Try him, just once, at least. If you
get the urge, tell me, and I'll start it for you."

Gwendolyn sighed. This whole thing was way out of hand. But why the
hell not, she thought. The Maestro was the biggest client she'd ever
had, by far. She had a pretty good idea how rich he was, and it was a
big number. And as far as helping her career as a tutor, he could make
or break her. She didn't think he'd do it, destroy her... even if he
knew she was screwing around with Ophelia. He had something bigger to
hide, she now knew. She idly wondered how she could do it with the two
of them, and make it look like an accident.

"Gwendolyn..." Ophelia apparently wasn't done selling him. "His
weenie... his weenie is really big, too."

Gwendolyn laughed, and gulped. She wondered what Ophelia had ever seen
to compare it with. She wondered if he actually was really big. That
might be... interesting. The only boy that she'd ever had real sex
with had been disappointing... she felt like he was small, in the
endowment department. She had hoped for many years to meet someone...
large. She realized her mind was made up.

"Ophelia... if you would... arrange it, darling."

Ophelia nodded. Her mind was made up, too. This was gonna be fun, she
thought.





That night, Ophelia initiated a long, drawn-out conversation with the
Maestro about Gwendolyn. She quickly realized that he had already had
his eye on the girl, somewhat. She told him about Gwendolyn's
worthless boyfriend, and how the poor girl had cried and cried. She
added in a few made-up parts about how Gwendolyn did not let that
affect Ophelia's schoolwork, though. Anyway, she told him that she had
tried to comfort the girl as best she could, and then she started
giggling and she told him how they had kissed and kissed the other
afternoon. She knew he would like to hear that, and she was right. He
asked her all kinds of questions, and then he asked her if they had
gone further.

She kind of clammed up there, and she let him wiggle on her line for a
while, and then gave him a few details. He ate it up. They were
sitting in the hot tub, and he began rubbing himself, as she talked,
causing her to giggle. She finally told him the whole story, about how
she'd seduced Gwendolyn, and got her naked, and how she had made her
cum and cum again.

"Ophelia. You are a naughty girl." The Maestro laughed, and she
giggled back.

"Maestro." She said, suddenly serious.

"Yes, dearest."

"She said she wants a real man. She said she wants a real man with a
big weenie."

"Uhm... yes..." He still didn't seem to get it.

"Maestro. You should invite her over tomorrow night. I'll stay in her
room, so she won't be shy."

He seemed a bit taken aback at that. He couldn't imagine a sexy,
strong, beautiful twenty-something like Gwendolyn going for a hairy
old man like himself. He'd never have the nerve to ask her. The
rejection would be too painful. He wondered how to tell Ophelia. As
she often did, Ophelia beat him to the punch.

"I told her she should let you make love to her. I told her that,
judging from all your girlfriends, you could probably do it right."

"Ophelia! No!" He acted horrified. He was. "Did you really?"

"Heck yeah." She clambered inbetween his knees, and took hold of his
softening penis. She idly pumped it as they talked. "She thinks you
are some kind of important person, or something. But she said she was
thinking about it."

"Ophelia. It is different, with adults..." He started. She shushed
him.

"If she wants to do it, and you want to do it, why shouldn't you do
it?"

He didn't have an answer for that. He still just could not imagine
sexy, street-smart young Gwendolyn wanting to fuck and old fossil like
himself. It was different with Ophelia, Ophelia hadn't really had a
choice, and she didn't know any better, she didn't know anything else.

"And, Maestro... even if she accidentally finds out about... us... she
and I have secrets, now, too. She can't say anything, right?"

Well, that was kind of true, if Gwendolyn had done to Ophelia what the
girl had just told him... and he never doubted Ophelia... she had
always been excruciatingly honest with him, as far as he knew. He
wondered if Gwendolyn was actually thinking about it. He liked big
girls as well as little, he just plain liked girls. Getting to fuck
her would be fantastic. What a little procurer Ophelia was turning
into... first Joycelyn, and now... maybe... Gwendolyn. How lucky he
was to have stumbled into this child.

"Ophelia." He finally said. "Do not be surprised if she changes her
mind... about me. Take what you can, darling, of her sweetness, for
yourself. But to her, I'm sure, I am just a crotchety old man."

Ophelia giggled, and pulled the head of his cock out of the water, and
ran her tongue around it. It was a challenge to her, now. She was
going to get the two of them together... and she was going to get in
the middle of it.





The next night, whether for that reason, or just neighborliness, the
Maestro invited Gwendolyn to have a late dinner with them. When the
maid came and took the dishes back to the kitchen, he invited the
girls to the living area, and they sat and talked. Gwendolyn assured
him that Ophelia was doing great at her lessons, and her
re-integration into school would be no problem. Gwendolyn received
e-mails from Ophelia's teachers, so she was able to cover most of the
things that were being taught at the school. She complimented Ophelia
on her smarts, and her attitude, and pretty much everything else,
except for kissing and tongue-fucking. Ophelia giggled.

Ophelia finally theatrically yawned, and stretched. "Gwendolyn, could
I go lay on your bed a while? I'm sleepy." She said, and disappeared
into Gwendolyn's room without waiting for a reply. If they can't make
it work now, she thought, I give up. She shut the door almost all the
way, and turned the TV on, keeping it low. She watched it for maybe
thirty minutes, thinking, three hundred channels and not a thing on.
She finally got up and peeked out the door as best she could. She was
pleased to see Gwendolyn curled up on the Maestro's lap, and the two
in what looked like serious deep conversation. The Maestro was
listening to her, and nodding his head. Good.

She went back to the TV, and gave them fifteen more minutes. She
peeked out again. Oh, much better. Gwendolyn's shirt was unbuttoned,
and she was still talking away as the Maestro massaged and squeezed
one of her breasts, his hand inside her brassiere. Ophelia dropped her
jeans to the floor, and stripped her shirt off. Her panties followed.
She felt free! She loved being naked. She felt honest with the world,
when she was naked. She loved it.

She sat on the bed, and gave them another fifteen. When she finally
pushed open the door and crept out, Gwendolyn was leaning over the
Maestro, who was laid back halfway on the couch. She was sucking
lustily on his penis, Ophelia was glad to see. It looked like to her
that he had gotten it together. Her efforts were not in vain. The two
of them looked up with guilty amazement as she stood before them.

"Ophelia, you must put on some clothes, darling!" The Maestro said.

"Mph mpm Humph mpmhmph..." Said Gwendolyn, before spitting the
Maestro's cock out. Weirdly, she didn't say anything after that, she
just sat there looking guilty.

Ophelia just giggled. She put her hands on her hips. "Sorry, folks,
couldn't sleep. Don't let me stop you, though..."





It took a while for Ophelia to get things started again. Oddly,
Gwendolyn seemed to be most of the problem. The Maestro, once he
realized that Ophelia had every intention of joining in, seemed to
accept that Gwendolyn would know he was a child molester. It didn't
bother him that much, since he also knew she was. Gwendolyn still
seemed to have issues, or something, he mused. Well, everyone carried
a burden of guilt, it seemed. You just had to learn how to get over
it. It had taken him a few years, too. She was young. She will learn,
he thought.

Ophelia kissed and nuzzled Gwendolyn, slowly undressing the other
girl, bit by bit. Gwendolyn held onto her panties a long time, but
finally she allowed Ophelia to slide them down her long legs. Now both
of them were naked, Ophelia thought. The Maestro still had his cock
out, and it was hard. Ophelia grasped it, and ran her tongue around
the cap, giggling at the look on Gwendolyn's face.

"Gwen. Come on." Ophelia commanded, and Gwendolyn bent her head down,
also. They licked and sucked, each taking a side, and then sometimes
Gwendolyn sucked on the tip, and Ophelia sucked his balls into her
mouth, or licked his shaft. They could both tell he was enjoying it,
he made no secret of that. Their lips met, occasionally, and they
kissed, sometimes with the cap of his dick partly-ways in their
mouths. He was amused to notice that Ophelia actually had a better
style than the older girl, he figured that Ophelia had had a lot more
practice than her. Finally Gwendolyn began running his cock in and out
of her mouth, while Ophelia fastened herself onto Gwendolyn's breasts.
The Maestro finally came, with Ophelia laying beneath Gwendolyn,
nibbling on her nipples, as he pumped the older girl's mouth full of
semen.

When he finally begin to become soft, Gwendolyn let his flaccid cock
fall from her mouth. She literally crawled over Ophelia, and buried
her face in the young girl's cunt. Ophelia reached up, and began to
lick Gwendolyn's cunt. The Maestro just sat back and watched as the
two girls tongue-fucked each other, feeling a twitch from his dick
already. He was pretty turned on, this was some of his favorite
fantasy material, and it was something that he'd never got to see, in
real life, except when he'd paid for it. He could tell the two girls
enjoyed each others bodies, he was not surprised that Ophelia was
having a good time, she was a very sexual creature. The other girl
seemed to have a lot of hangups, and he was glad she was enjoying
herself. He was glad to have a part in it, and he hoped he could get
it up again, here in a while, and fuck her proper.

An hour passed. Ophelia was on her hands and knees now, in the floor,
and Gwendolyn was behind her, eating her ass out. Licking her
fantastic little asshole. Gwendolyn was hooked on the taste of the
girl. Incredible, she thought. I never knew. No one ever told me.
She'd had a room-mate in college she'd kissed around on some, but she
hadn't gone any further. She barely knew, back then, that there was a
further to go to. Nobody had told her.

The Maestro finally began to stroke his penis, and he got some
tentative hardness from it. He was pretty turned on, watching the two
girls play around with each other. He felt like Gwendolyn was
loosening up. He wondered how to break in, and see if she would like
to fuck.

Ophelia's sharp eyes missed little. She finally crawled back up on the
couch, and sucked the Maestro into her mouth for a few moments. When
his hardness was up to her standards, she dropped his dick out of her
mouth, and turned to Gwendolyn.

"Darling... it's for you..." She nodded to his cock. Gwendolyn turned
a little red, but she slowly stood, and moved to the couch. Ophelia
pointed a spot for her to sit on, and got her situated the way she
thought would be best. Gwendolyn and the Maestro watched her, bemused.

Ophelia finally returned her hands to his penis. Good. It had stayed
hard. She looked at the Maestro, and nodded towards Gwendolyn. He got
the idea.

"Darling." The Maestro addressed Gwendolyn. "May I?"

"Yes, please." Gwendolyn said, nodding, and smiling at Ophelia.
Ophelia was interested to watch a fuck take place in front of her.
She'd always been on the other side, until now. She watched the
Maestro stand, and drop his trousers. He kept on his boxer shorts, he
just pulled his cock and balls out the slit in front. He carefully
lowered himself on top of Gwendolyn, letting his cock seek out her
cunt. His cock knew where to go. Ophelia squatted on the floor, and
watched from below as his hard cock slowly worked it's way into
Gwendolyn's cunt. Lord, thought the Maestro, this big girl is as tight
as the little girl. Oh my god, thought Gwendolyn, it's so big... it's
so filling, so fulfilling... Hee hee hee, thought Ophelia. It looks
like a monkey sucking on a pickle.

The Maestro finally began to pump, in and out, and Gwendolyn gasped
and sighed and hiccuped. Ophelia finally tired of the show, and went
around and began nuzzling and sucking on Gwendolyn's nipple. Gwendolyn
grabbed the little girl's head, and pulled it to her body. Gwendolyn
was having a good time by now, in spite of the fact that she was being
fucked by an old fart. This old fart has a nice dick, she thought.

When Gwendolyn finally came, she had a good one. Both the Maestro and
Ophelia felt like that she had a really fine, exceptional cum. She
kicked and moaned and gasped and hiccuped, and shook her head madly.
Her back arched and her legs stuck straight out, her hard muscles
standing out. She finally collapsed, and the Maestro pulled out of
her, and he raised up from her body. Sticky strings of semen trailed
from his cock. Ophelia lay down inbetween Gwendolyn and the side of
the couch, and held the other girl, murmuring silly things to her.
Gwendolyn giggled and sighed, filling her lungs, and relaxing. She
felt good.

The Maestro had disappeared in the bathroom. Ophelia sat up, and
grabbed Gwendolyn by the arm.

"Come on, let's get in bed." Ophelia said, and Gwendolyn sighed again,
and sat up. She let Ophelia lead her into the Maestro's bedroom, and
they crawled into the bed, giggling and rubbing against each other.
When the Maestro came out of the bathroom, he was surprised, but he
covered well. He turned out the light, and crawled in bed, and Ophelia
cuddled up between the two of them. She felt happy, and loved. She
knew she was loved. She hadn't been fucked that night, like she was
used to, but she knew that she was loved. She sighed, and conked out.





The next morning, the Maestro made efficient use of his morning boner,
and fucked both Ophelia and Gwendolyn. Gwendolyn had a few
reservations, and some sympathy pains as she watched the young girl
take the big cock into her little pussy. She knew what society would
think of what she was being a participant in... but she would have to
admit her part, to expose what he did... and she really didn't have
that strong an urge to expose him. She believed Ophelia's story, that
Ophelia had started it... and she knew, from experience that Ophelia
must be obeyed. She felt it, too. She had enjoyed her time with the
old man, and she had especially enjoyed her time with the sweet young
girl. She didn't know if she'd ever fuck the old man again, but she
knew she'd fuck the little girl again. Every chance she got.

The three of them took a quick shower, and the Maestro dressed and
called Chad on his cell phone. The girls slowly dressed, as he finally
waved goodbye and disappeared. 

"Ophelia, darling. We must catch up on your schoolwork today. We
really have to, I'm sorry." Gwendolyn said.

Ophelia hung her head. Shoot. Sucky old school, she thought. She had
an idea, though. She raised her head, smiling.

Five minutes later, Gwendolyn felt electric shocks race up and down
the insides of her legs as Ophelia tongued her clit. The girl was a
natural, she thought. A goddam natural. I'm gonna practice, until I
get that good.

She bent her face down, and devoured the musky taste of Ophelia's
pussy. She found the girl's fat little clit, and teased and licked it
until Ophelia squirmed. It was gonna be a good day, thought Gwendolyn.
Gonna be a good goddam fucking day.




The Maestro, paragon of thriftiness that he was, let Gwendolyn's room
go back to the hotel. Gwendolyn, of course, slept with them, and the
three of them just fucked away the next month, every stolen moment
that they could fit into the Maestro's hectic schedule. Often it was
just Gwendolyn and Ophelia, but they managed just fine.

The premier finally came about, and the excitement hit a fevered
pitch. The Maestro took Ophelia and Gwendolyn shopping one day, and
bought them matching gowns, shoes and necklaces. The amount he spent
astounded both the girls. The girls spent the day before at a ritzy
beauty shop, where they were beautified from their toenails to the
tops of their heads. He wore a tuxedo that night and the three of them
waltzed down the red carpet with a million camera flashes going off.
Ophelia had the grandest night of her short life, and even Gwendolyn
was amazed at all the fuss. The Maestro took it all in stride. After
the performance they went to another club, and the girls danced the
night away. There was no problem this time getting Ophelia in the
door.

That night, it was past two o'clock when they finally made it back to
their room. Ophelia collapsed on the bed, and Gwendolyn and the
Maestro had to undress her. She giggled as they tucked her in the bed,
and then they retired to the bathroom to unwind and fuck. They finally
sat in the hot tub, relaxing, trying to settle down from the evening.

"Maestro." Gwendolyn spoke.

"Yes, my dear?"

"Have you adopted Ophelia? I don't mean to pry..."

"No, dear, that's okay. No, I have not. There are many obstacles to a
single man adopting a young girl, although my wealth and the lawyers I
can bring to bear on the problem would probably get it done. I am, at
the moment, her legal guardian. In the old country, she would be
called my ward."

"I see... I just wondered... you have done a lot for her, you have
been very good to her..."

"Gwendolyn... I must confess, she is not my first. I have had other
girls, before her... but none as sweet as her."

"She is a precious child, yes. Precious, and precocious." They both
laughed.

"It will be difficult for me to go back, and give all this up..."
Gwendolyn said wistfully.

"My dear, you don't have to give it all up... you can still visit us
whenever you wish. My door will always be open, to you. Our door."

"Thank you." Gwendolyn leaned over onto his bony knees. "Thank you for
everything."





As Ophelia grew, her perception of the Maestro and her situation
slowly changed. She still loved him, but she realized more and more
how unusual her life with him was. Joycelyn had been adopted by a
family from New Jersey, and seemed happy and comfortable in her new
life. Ophelia talked to her all the time, but hardly ever saw her. Sex
was not part of Joycelyn's life, with her new family. Not at all.

The biggest event in Ophelia's life so far was the marriage of
Gwendolyn and Steven. The Maestro had thrown a little party for
Ophelia's thirteenth birthday, and of course the two had shown up for
it. Steven was directing an orchestra down in Washington, and had a
few days to kill, so he stuck around, and the two of them got very
close, in a hurry. Ophelia was happy with the match, even though it
meant that she probably wouldn't get to see Gwendolyn as much. The
Maestro gave them his blessing, and that summer Ophelia and he flew
down and he gave the bride away in a massive, lavish ceremony. Ophelia
was Gwendolyn's maid of honor, and during the service she nervously
sucked on a mint, hoping to wash the taste and scent of semen from her
mouth. Right before the ceremony, in direct defiance of the old rule
about the groom not seeing the bride before the wedding, the four of
them had gathered in a little room in the back of the church. Ophelia
had asked Gwendolyn if, please, could she give Steven one last BJ,
before he became a married man? Gwendolyn had just laughed and nodded,
and Ophelia arranged her long skirt out behind her, and carefully sank
to her knees in front of Steven. As she took his cock in her mouth,
she could see, out of the corner of her eye, Gwendolyn kneeling in
front of the Maestro, and unzipping him and taking his long cock out
also. Steven tasted good to her, and she liked his smaller cock since
she could fit almost all of it in her mouth. He came quickly, and she
had just sat back and was wiping her mouth when the door opened, and
the priest peeked in. 

"Good heavens!" he said, and recovered quickly, to his credit. Even
from seeing the bride on her knees, with her long dress strung out
behind her as she gave a blow job to someone he'd thought was her
father. "Ten minutes, children."

Ophelia grinned and crooked her finger at him. He bravely ignored the
blow job going on just a few feet away, and approached her.

"Yes, my child?" He said. Ophelia reached out and pulled his long robe
up, wondering what he was wearing beneath it. Munsingwear! He stood
there, a funny look on his face as she drew his cock out of the
kangaroo pouch, and sucked it into her mouth. He's wasted as a priest,
she thought. He's got a nice weenie. He rapidly hardened in her mouth.
It didn't seem to bother him a bit to be getting a blow job from a
thirteen year old girl. 

"Goodness, girl..." The priest said, and Ophelia and Gwendolyn
giggled. The man continued. "I don't usually do this right before a
ceremony, but since you asked so nicely..."

Silly man, thought Ophelia, I didn't ask, I just did it. He didn't
take long at all, and as she finished him off she heard the Maestro
grunting and groaning as he came. Gwendolyn and Steven had almost been
late to their own wedding. Steven escorted Ophelia to the front, and
she stood there, facing the thousands of people, and wondered what
they would think if they could have seen her ten minutes earlier. The
priest winked at her, and she giggled again. It was a fun evening for
her. Pretty much for everybody, actually.





As Ophelia grew, she felt more and more separate from her friends, and
the people she knew. By fourteen she knew that the things she did
would be condemned by society, and that the Maestro would be
imprisoned if his secret life were ever exposed. Their secret life.
She never talked to him about it, but it weighed more and more on her
mind. He still fucked her every night, without fail, even when he or
she was sick. He seemed to simply not be able to live with it, without
his daily dose of her. That he loved her deeply was more than obvious.
He was beyond obsessed with her. He watched her every move, and
attempted, sometimes to her disgust, to micro-manage her whole life.

He still locked them in, every night. When he wasn't there, someone
else was, to cater to her ever whim, and, she knew, to watch her. He
guarded her, closely. She wasn't sure why. She wasn't going anywhere,
she had nowhere to go. She had no family. Him, Steven and Gwendolyn
were it. And Steven and Gwendolyn were eight hundred miles away. 

As she aged, of course, so did he. Sometimes, as he lay on top of her
and pumped away, she wished he wasn't a hairy, creaky, grumpy old man.
But, that's all she had. That was her life. She slowly realized that
she was owned by him, as much as she owned him. She knew she would
inherit his property and wealth when he died, but she wasn't yet at
the age where that meant a lot to her. She began to hunger for
somebody young, somebody like Steven... even the boys she saw at
school from a distance looked good to her, although she realized that
a gulf of sexual experience lay between her and them.

Sexual experience. That was one thing she had, in abundance. She still
got to fuck around with Steven and Gwendolyn, when they visited, or
when she and the Maestro flew down. When the Maestro had took her to
Paris he had hired call girls, sometimes two at a time, at thousands
of dollars a night for her. And, of course, he benefited also. It had
been fun to fuck around with the hookers, Ophelia had thought, some of
them were pretty righteous for hookers, when confronted with a
thirteen or fourteen year old girl who was as skilled sexually as they
were. She'd even taught a few of them a thing or two about licking
pussy, she thought. And the girls in Hong Kong, and Bali... she had
loved the shit out of those little brown girls. 

Anyway. She wasn't dissatisfied with her life with the Maestro, not
yet. And she couldn't think that she wanted more, there really wasn't
"more" to go to, from here. She pretty much had it all. Except for
some semblance of normalcy. She felt some kind of vague yearning, deep
inside her breast, but she didn't know what was, or what she yearned
for. She was the typical poor little rich girl.





One of the men who watched her, on occasion, was named Jerry. She was
amused to learn his real name was Jericho, and she took to calling him
Mr. Jericho after a character in a movie she had watched. He was
actually a bodyguard, and had gone with them to the far East, and once
to Africa. He was tall and imposing, and she thought he looked like a
bad-ass. She had tried, unsuccessfully, several times in fact, to
seduce him, to no avail. He acted sexless, and acted like he had no
idea what she was attempting. She wondered if he knew of her relations
with the Maestro, but by now the two of them had gotten so good at
hiding their relationship that she didn't figure anyone could tell.
Anyone except Gwendolyn and Steven. And Joycelyn, wherever she was by
now.

Throughout the opera season, she spent a lot of time in Jericho's
company. They grew close, though he was the consummate professional,
he did his job, and he did it well. But, often, as best she could
without the details of sex, she poured her heart and soul out to him.
He knew she was unhappy. He knew, though she had traveled the world,
that she was a virtual prisoner in the apartment. He wondered, as did
she, why the Maestro kept her locked away so tightly. The Maestro was
a very wealthy man, of course, and there was always the fear of
kidnapping for ransom, but Ophelia and he weren't connected that
tightly. Of course, they were often seen in public together, but
searches of documents would not show her as being his daughter, or
even adopted by him. Jericho had no idea, actually even less than
Ophelia, why the Maestro guarded her so closely. So close that she was
a prisoner, virtually.

There were three deadbolts on the apartment door, and one on the
inside. The three on the outside could be opened from the inside, but
the one on the inside, when locked by the key outside, could only be
opened by a key. Jericho knew that his was against fire safety
regulations, but the Maestro, because of his wealth, was not bound by
the same rules that most people were. There were only two keys to that
inner deadbolt that he knew of. The Maestro had one, and he had the
other. But only while he was watching her.

Jericho had noticed slight signs that other things were not as they
seemed. Nothing bad, nothing that set off alarm bells in his head, but
that was his nature. He noticed things that ordinary people never
would. He noticed, more than once, when passing it in the hallway,
that her bed had not been changed and did not look slept in. Often
stuff was stacked on it, from day to day. He wondered if she slept on
the couch in the living room, since he'd actually seen her curled up
beneath a blanket there more than once. But he knew that there were
only two beds in the place.

Jericho walked Ophelia down to the basement every morning, and often
went with Chad to take her to the private school that she was now
going to. Often Chad would go back for lunch, and take Ophelia and her
friends off campus, to a restaurant or fast food place. Sometimes
Jericho went along for that, just for the fun of it. And, of course,
after school was over, she was right back at the apartment. Sometimes
the Maestro took her out for dinner, but usually he just had the
apartment block kitchen cater them dinner.

More and more Ophelia felt like a prisoner. More and more she came to
resent the Maestro's use of her as a simple sex toy. She still
participated, often willingly. She enjoyed sex, and she liked the
feelings her body gave her. She lived for the moments when Gwendolyn
and Steven visited, she felt happiest in Gwendolyn's arms. She
desperately hoped that when the Maestro died, she could go live with
them. She found herself wishing that he would hurry up and die, just
for that reason. She felt a little guilty about it, after all he'd
done for her, but that's what she wished.





Jericho had no idea where or when he'd gotten the idea, but he felt
like it was the right thing to do. One night, after he'd returned
Ophelia to the apartment, he locked the inner lock, and then made a
show of setting the key down on the kitchen table, right on the
corner. He left the room, and when he returned, it was gone.

"Oh no," He said loudly. Ophelia stared at him guilelessly. "I have
lost my key. I sure hope I find it before tomorrow, when the Maestro
will find out I've been careless, and have the lock replaced. If
someone borrowed it, they had better have a copy made and return it
before then. And the thief had better be very careful with that key,
and not let the Maestro know they have it, or he will fire me and
change the lock."

He felt like he had given her the information she needed to have her
own copy made. He felt like she needed a key, for emergencies, and for
her freedom, if it came to that. She seemed like a level-headed girl,
and he hoped she would be careful with the key, and not use it for
silly purposes. He knew she was hardly ever alone, anyway. But, he
felt like it was right that she had a key. He felt like he'd done the
right thing.

The next day after school, Ophelia knew that the Maestro would be at
the Orpheum for another hour or two. She got Chad to drive her to a
hardware store, and he waited nervously for her while she went inside
and had a copy of the key made. She slipped him a twenty when he let
her out at the apartment. She had Jericho's key back on the corner of
the kitchen table soon after he let her and Chad into the apartment,
and nothing more was said about the incident. She felt much better,
now, now that she knew she could leave if she wanted to. She didn't
feel like a prisoner, quite as much. She had the option, now. She
didn't know of anywhere to go, but she had the option.





Ophelia's sixteenth birthday was a big deal. She'd already taken
driver's ed, and sometimes Chad would take her down to parking lots
and let her drive the limo around. She pleaded and begged the Maestro,
and finally he allowed her to get her license, although neither he nor
she knew when she'd ever use it. It was important to her, though, and
she wanted it. And still, pretty much, what Ophelia wanted Ophelia
got.

They had a wild, crazy party, Steven and Gwendolyn came up, and
Ophelia invited half a dozen girls from school. The Maestro had a huge
cake made, and to her absolute shock, had Joycelyn flown in from
Vermont. Ophelia opened the door, and there she was, a bigger and
better version of the Joycelyn she'd know so many years ago. Tears
streamed from their eyes as they hugged, and the whole party went
"Awww..." for a while. That night, when the party wound down and her
friends had left, she drew Joycelyn to the couch, and they caught up.
Joycelyn stayed until Sunday night, and Ophelia promised never to lose
touch again.

That night, that first night, they had slept on the couch. But not a
lot of sleeping got done. They held each other, and giggled, and
Ophelia finally fastened her lips to Joycelyn's, and they kissed until
they both grew faint. Ophelia ran her hands up beneath the other
girl's shirt, and inside her bra, and caressed her beautiful breasts.
Minutes later they were naked, and soon Ophelia tasted Joycelyn's
wonderful cunt for the first time in years. They licked and slobbered
over each other until the Maestro appeared, and asked if they had
everything they needed for the night. Ophelia looked up at him and
giggled, and said they were fine. He tottered off to bed, shaking his
head. Five years earlier, he thought, I'd have been in the middle of
that. Now, I'm just sleepy. It was almost a relief to get a night off,
he thought.

Ophelia and Joycelyn made love for hours, and finally went to sleep in
each others arms. When Jericho showed up the next morning they were
once again behaving like proper young ladies. The Maestro departed for
the Orpheum, and Jericho left the girls alone.

"Ophelia." Joycelyn said.

"What, dearest."

"You have a storybook life, here. But, darling, are you happy?"
Joycelyn knew, of course, the price Ophelia paid for her life, for her
lifestyle. Joycelyn would have done it, she thought. She would pay
that price, for all this. But she had sensed something in Ophelia, a
deep core of sadness, or something, she didn't know what. She wondered
if, now that the other girl was growing up, if the price was too high.
The Maestro was ancient, now. He was almost a walking corpse. Joycelyn
was glad that he hadn't gotten involved last night, when the sex
started. She'd let herself be fucked by him once, years ago. More than
once. Dozens of times, when she'd spent the night with Ophelia. She'd
taken his penis in her mouth, even more times. But she didn't know if
she could have done it, now. She felt bad to be so judgmental, so
prejudiced, but hell, she thought. We are sweet young girls. He's a
cadaver. Just that nobody's told him, yet.

Ophelia finally sighed, after deep thought. "No, Joycelyn. I'm not
afraid to say it. I'm not, but at the same time I don't know what'd
make me happy. I feel like my life here... is frozen or something... I
feel like I'm holding my breath, waiting for life to happen..."

"Oh, darling..." Joycelyn leaned into her and hugged her.

"I'm thinking about running away, Joyce. Honestly."

"Where to?"

"I have no idea. Just away."

"Well, you can always come stay with me." Joycelyn had already given
Ophelia her new address. "Just be careful, darling. He's a rich man,
and rich men are powerful. And you and he have... issues that he won't
want to be public knowledge, know what I mean?"

"Yeah. Yeah."





Ophelia, Chad and Jericho took Joycelyn to the airport Sunday night.
Ophelia cried as her friend departed. She felt more alone in the world
than she ever had. She was short and snappy, that night, with the
Maestro when he fucked her. And, to her sadness, he was so whacky that
he didn't even notice. She made her mind up, then and there. She began
to pack a bag.

To her advantage, the one thing she had plenty of was money. The
Maestro had always been free with money around her, in spite of his
reputation as a stingy old skinflint. He'd just out and out gave her
money, more money than she ever needed. She went to her panty drawer,
and dug around in the bottom of it, and finally pulled out a fat wad
of cash. She didn't even bother to count it, she just stuffed it in
her pocket.





It was Saturday. The Maestro was at the Orpheum, probably harassing
the scenery guys over minor details. She knew that was one of his
hobbies. Jericho finally left, an hour or two before the Maestro
usually came in. She went to her room, and fished the key from its
hiding spot. She put on her ski jacket, although it wasn't very cold
outside. Hell, it was May. She had on several heavy shirts, including
a sweatshirt. She grabbed her backpack, and got the hell out of there.
She carefully locked the deadbolt behind her, to confuse the issue.
She took the stairs down, all the way down, and finally she was on the
street. As she walked away, she looked back several times, and just
before she turned the corner she thought she saw the limo, pulling
into the garage. She walked faster.

The first hotel wouldn't even consider her. By the fifth, she almost
felt like it was pointless. She finally changed her tactics, and took
a taxi to "the other side of town" as she thought of it. There, right
off, she found a sleazy little place that didn't even ask for her
license. They just wanted three hundred bucks deposit, of which she
would get back two hundred. She signed "Sammi Sheldon" on the line,
making the name up on the spot. 

The room wasn't bad, kind of dingy. She left for a few minutes, and
got some food at a Taco House a block away, and returned to her room
to eat. When she got done, she hesitantly dialed Gwendolyn. She had
contemplated going to Steven and Gwendolyn's, but then she decided
that she didn't want to drag them into it. It wouldn't be fair. She
felt the same was about Joycelyn. She knew that the Maestro had give
Joycelyn a large lump of cash when they sent her home, and she didn't
want to make the girl feel unfaithful. She didn't want to seem to be
making any of them think they were having to choose sides. She just
figured that she'd lay low for a while, and see what happened. If she
could maintain even enough of a link to see what happened.

She left a short message on Gwendolyn's service, telling her not to
worry, and that everything was okay with her. Within a few minutes her
phone began to ring, over and over, with the Maestro's number on the
caller ID. Maybe an hour later her phone finally rang under
Gwendolyn's name. That one she would answer. She composed herself,
took a few deep breaths, and answered.

Gwendolyn immediately asked her where she was, and if she was alright.
Yes, yes, said Ophelia. She did not tell Gwen where she was. Gwendolyn
said that the Maestro had called them, frantic. He was desperate to
find her. She told Gwendolyn that she was still in town, but far away,
and that she was safe, and not to worry about her. Yes, Gwen and
Steven could tell the Maestro. Please. Please tell him she was safe.
She told them she was sorry about this, and thanked them.

It was just moments later that his number started buzzing on her phone
again. She did not answer. She wasn't ready, yet. She didn't know if
she ever would be.





She just stayed there one day, and then moved to another room in
another hotel. That was her habit for a week. She felt kind of silly,
but she wasn't ready to be found yet. She didn't know when she would
be. Gwendolyn called her several times a day, and was obviously
passing information on to the Maestro. He stopped trying to call her,
at least.

Ophelia finally joined her fellow homeless folk, and ate at a soup
kitchen. She found several places she could spend the night at, and
kept that in mind for when her money ran out. Luckily, she had barely
made a dent in her big wad of cash, so far. She kept half of it on
her, and half hidden in her bag, or in the room she happened to stay
in. She finally started spending a week in each room, before moving
on.

One night, at a soup kitchen, a crazy guy attacked her and several
other girls, and cut a deep slash into her cheek and nose with a box
knife. She spent five or six hours at the hospital, getting treated
and cleaned up, but she wouldn't let them give her stitches, because
she didn't want to look like Frankenstein. They finally taped her up,
and let her go with orders to come back the next night. When it was
all over and healed, she actually thought it enhanced her looks,
rather than detracted. She thought it made her look like a bad-ass.
She told her friends that she was going to become a pirate, and change
her name to Scarface.





Four or five months had passed. She didn't know how long. She didn't
remember when she'd left the apartment. Her phone had been stolen, and
she had been without one for a few weeks. She kept on planning to get
a new one, but just never did. She knew she needed to stay in touch
with Gwendolyn, but she neglected that, even. One night, she was
walking along with two other girls when they passed a news stand. She
just happened to look at the headlines, and one screamed out at her.
She just stood there and stared, ice water running through her veins.

"Local Legend Lays Dying" the headline proclaimed. There, big as life,
was a picture of the Maestro, with her, Ophelia, on his arm, smiling.
In happier days, she thought. 

"Hey... isn't that you?" One of the girls she was with said, pointing
at the picture, and pointing to Ophelia. But Ophelia wasn't there any
more. She was running down the street, glad she had on tennies.

She guessed that it was over ten miles to his apartment. She finally
saw a cab, and jumped in it. She stuffed five or six twenties through
the cage to the driver, trying to get the idea of fast across to him.
He jabbered away in Arabic, but at least he stomped on the gas.

Twenty five minutes later they pulled up in front of the building, and
Ophelia threw a handful of cash at the man, and ran inside. She almost
took the stairs, but the elevator finally came, and she jumped in. She
caught a glimpse of herself on the mirrored wall, and winced. She
looked like what she was, a half-crazy street person. She licked her
hands and smoothed her hair down, and scratched some of her dinner off
her cheek. The dinger dinged, and she launched herself out the door.

Everything stopped again, while she pounded on the door of the
apartment. Finally, the door opened, and she fell inside. It was
Jericho. He looked even more somber and serious that usual. She tried
to speak, but couldn't. He motioned her to follow him.

"I'm glad you made it. He's been asking for you." Jericho said,
leading her to the Maestro's bedroom. Tears began to stream down her
cheek.

She silently crept into the room. Into the bedroom that used to be
hers. Gwendolyn and Steven and Chad were there, and two men in white
suits, monitoring an oxygen tank. Gwendolyn looked up, and a smile
spread over her face. She leaned down to the shrunken figure in the
bed and whispered something to him.

"Where?" Said the Maestro. Ophelia stepped forward, and took his bony
shriveled hand in her own. She tried to speak, but she could not. She
finally lay her head down, and put her cheek next to his. He smiled,
his eyes still closed. He breathed in deeply, breathing her scent into
his nostrils. He knew it was her.

"Ophelia... my darling..." His voice was now so faint she could barely
hear him. "I love you... I love you, darling..."

"I love you too." She managed to say, not feeling guilty or
hypocritical. At that moment, she did. She forgot everything, and
loved him. She wanted to scream at the people around her, do
something! But she knew that all that could be done was being done.
She could hear the rustle of wings and the click of claws on the
hardwood floor as the Angel of Death drew near.

"Ophelia... I am sorry... you must forgive me... or I won't even be
allowed into Hell..." He gave a small laugh, and then coughed. "I am
sorry for what I did to you... I love you... please forgive me..."

"Oh, Maestro..." She buried her face in the bedclothes beside his, and
bawled like a baby. "There's nothing to forgive... but, yes, yes... I
forgive you... I love you..."

"Thank you... goodbye, Ophelia."

"Goodbye! Oh, Maestro... don't go..." She felt like her heart was
breaking. In spite of all she'd been through with the man, she felt
like her heart was breaking.

With his final breath, he said, "Ophelia. I love you."





Later that night, Ophelia, Gwendolyn and Steven crawled into the
never-before used bed in her room. The two of them just held her, and
they talked most of the night. Ophelia came away feeling a little
better. The next two days were chaotic, making funeral plans, writing
a lengthy obituary, and meeting with lawyers. Gwendolyn and Steven
were there to help Ophelia every step of the way. When they finally
left, a week after the funeral, Ophelia felt like she had a pretty
good grip on things. They would have to return, in a few months, for
the reading of the will.

Ophelia spent the next few weeks winding down his affairs, and getting
things in order. When she went through his bedroom, she was amazed at
the amount of raw cash the man had hidden away, secreted in boxes and
sacks, hidden in drawers, and stuck between the pages of books. She
carefully split it in two, half for her, and half for Steven and
Gwendolyn. That's also the way she intended to split the will, at
least the part of it that he gave her. She would split it with
Gwendolyn, and Steven. They had been her best friends, and good
friends of the Maesro. And Joycelyn. She would give Joycelyn enough to
make a difference, too.

She didn't know what else. She didn't know what to do or where to go.
But, she now had the resources to make the journey enjoyable. She
remembered him kindly, at least for that. For providing for her. And,
she knew that he had actually loved her. And, she thought, as well as
I could, I loved him. I couldn't stand to see him grow old, but I
loved him. She felt bad that she hadn't been there for more of the
end, but that's just the way it worked out. She turned her face to the
future, and went forward to meet it.




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