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Message-ID: <63373asstr$1431285001@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Albert Speer <meatbot777@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Music Girl (pedo, teen, cons)
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Date: Sun, 10 May 2015 15:10:02 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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<1st attachment, "MusicGirl.txt" begin>

Title : Music Girl

   Author : MeatBot

   Keywords : pedo, teen, cons

   Written : 20141018
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/MeatBot/

   This is a semi-true story as told to me by a girl I used to know.  I
added the sex and made up the conversations and stuff, and fluffed it up a
bit.  A young girl goes to live with a musician as his sex toy, basically.
It is primarily pedo in scope, with a little lezzie thrown it, and some
straight.

   Disclaimer :

   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.  This is a work
of fiction.  The author does not condone any sexual activity among persons
under 16 in real life.

   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.  She
stood in the middle of a defensive cluster of kids, also from the home. 
The orphanage kids stuck together 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. 
Hell, you weren't anybody's 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 mean.  Some of them seemed to positively 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 Joycelyn 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 at school 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.  And
perfectly in tune.  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.  And naked?  She was going to sleep naked?  That
one really threw her.  It had never occurred to her before that people
might sleep naked.

   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
dearly, 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.  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 be 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 returned to the school in the limo, 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, and a million
camera flashes went off.  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 minutes, 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.  He finally let himself go, and
squirted what felt like a gallon of sperm deep into her body, his legs
locking, his hands buried in her sweet ass.

   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.  That, and, of course,
being a sexy little girl.

   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, though, 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 Gwendolyn'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.  Gwendolyn 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 an 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 damn 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 feverish 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 millions of 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, thanks to blow jobs.  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 irritation, 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 "Bailey Barrington" 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 given 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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