Perverts 'R' Us

The Lost Castle (a novella)

By Lord Alistair Chamberlain (LAC) ( M/g, M/f, anal, ped, beast, preg, menst )

!* Warning*! This is a work of fiction and is intended to remain fictional. Do not attempt anything in this story. The fantasies in this story should remain just that. I do not by any means condone the sexual relations of adults with children, nor should anyone else. This story contains many fetishes, most of which are illegal. So if such things disturb or offend you, do not waste your time reading it. If you are under the age of 18 do not read this story. Otherwise, enjoy...

Chapter 1. A mysterious journey

Oddities were nothing new to Shaun Weaver, he had dealt with them for much of his young adult life and even his awkward childhood, but the electronic letters on his computer screen that appeared as he opened the oddly titled e-mail were not just odd, they were disturbing and most of all troublesome.

Like many a socially inept young man of not yet one and twenty, Shaun was a fearful boy. He had been raised on a healthy dose of school bullies and play yard mockery.

When he finished reading the e-mail his face was the color of alabaster and sweat dripped out from every pore. On a nearby pad of paper he scribbled down a few notes with his favorite V5 rollerball pen. He hurriedly deleted his e-mail, along with his account. As if chased by a demon sent by Lucifer himself, he unplugged the thin IBM notebook computer, rolled across the room on his high backed leather chair, opened the microwave atop his micro-fridge and placed the computer inside. With a few high pitched chirps, the timer was set and he slammed the door to the white box. There was an electric hum as the machine began to spew forth radiation from an inductive magnetron. Within the span of eight seconds, bright aquamarine and white sparks began to spew from the orifices of the tiny computer, forever destroying any evidence of his downloads, though he knew that there would still be a trail that could be followed. That risk he was willing to take.

That night he lay clutched on the uncomfortable mattress that perched atop his loft in the musty smelling door room from whose walls hung pictures of fantastical creatures the disturbing imagery of artists such as Gieger and Bosch. His mind raced with the fears of what might lay in store for him, wondering who this person was who knew of his sinful secrets. But as darkness gave way to dawn, he stuffed a few changes of clothes into a black duffel bag and grabbed his wallet and passport, thinking he might need it for identification purposes, not realizing that by the end of the day he would be halfway across the world.

A Sunkist-orange sun hung low on the horizon that morning. The cloud cover which appeared bright pink like cotton candy at the fair was slowly burning off against the heat. He walked to the nearby parking deck and found his white Jeep Cherokee, not yet knowing it would be the last time he would ever drive it. With the rumble of the 6 cylinder engine he pulled out of the campus and headed for the highway, gunning for the Charlesville airport which was no more than forty five minutes due east. The anxiety welled up inside him as the radio blared an old Rolling Stones tune. His left hand shook as it held the cigarette outside the window of his car.

After about forty minutes of being on the road the sun was getting higher in the sky. In the distance he could see small, silver, cigar shaped objects making steep climbs as the rose into the blue of the early morning. As he reached the small local airport he found the parking lot near the Pan-Am hub. He took his parking ticket from a silver-haired old man who wore a rather official-looking uniform for his anything-but-menial job. The man appeared almost half asleep as he saw him once more in the little yellow kiosk as he walked from the parking lot towards the terminal. It was still early and it was a small airport. A few reservation assistants tried to look busy but evidently no one was flying today. The baggage belt behind the check-in rotated droningly as he walked up to a petite, black haired girl who stood behind the Pan-Am desk.

"Good morning and welcome to Pan-Am, do you have a reservation?" she asked in a caffeine-induced chipper voice.

"My name is Shaun Weaver, I was told I had a reservation on hold for an 8:30 flight"

"Oh yes Mr. Weaver, here you are." She said handing the young, gangly looking man a ticket.

"First class to Rome, are you going on vacation?" she asked with a like wise, chipper smile.

"Uhmm....yes...always wanted to see the Vatican." he said trying to seem non-chalant.

"And there's a package for you here too." she said as the woman's delicate slender hand raised forth from behind the desk, clutching a large manila envelope that seemed rather full of unknown contents.

"Thank you" Shaun replied dryly.

"No problem" she chirped back "you'll be leaving at gate 10, do you have any luggage to declare?"

"No."

"Well, have fun in Rome." her head bobbed to the side as she smiled.

Shaun adjusted the shoulder strap of the duffle bag as he headed towards a pair of escalators that would take him up to the gates. In his right hand he tucked the envelope into his armpit. At the top of the escalator, a black scrolling electronic screen with green lettering proclaimed the status of each flight and its gate number. 8:30 to Rome, gate 10, no delay. The Boeing 747 would be coming from Atlanta and there would be a lay over in New York. Shaun had never been fond of New York, only because all he knew of that megalith of a city was the inside of its crowded airports.

When he found the gate he looked out the large panel windows onto the tarmac. He was obviously early since the few flight attendants there were milling about aimlessly, their minds full of disillusionment about their meaningless jobs. One of the younger stewardesses was flirting with a young co-pilot who had just come from the pilot's lounge. He had a shiny faux leather brief case in his right hand and a Styrofoam cup in the other. The young brunette who reminded him of a very young Sally Fields hung on the man's every word.

Shaun, attempting to ignore the world around him, took a chair in a far off corner of the gate, a place where no one would come and sit next to him and try to engage him in "witty" banter. He sat down in the blue, plastic, preformed chair which was markedly similar to the chairs in the physics lecture hall. As he did he placed the duffle bag in the chair to his right to prevent someone from sitting down next to him. From out his armpit he pulled the manila envelope from where he had securely tucked it, and while using his index finger as a letter opener, he set about opening the hefty packet.

From inside he retrieved a letter, as well as a glossy black and white photo of a haggard, long bearded man who looked something a mix between a Chinese rice worker and an Eastern European factory laborer.

Shaun turned the envelope upside down and his boarding pass from New York to Rome fell out, as well as what appeared to be a hefty magazine with a glossy black front and back cover. He flipped open the first page with some reluctance and then immediately closed it back in horror. With his eyes wide in fear he looked around the terminal nervously, making sure no one was watching before slowly opening it again.

Inside was the real cover of the magazine, a dirty blond haired girl of perhaps six or seven on her hands and knees, her naked rear end facing the camera at a sharp angle as she looked over her shoulder at who ever was photographing her. On her face was a forced and rather unconvincing smile and above her body, as if jumping off the page was the title of the magazine in bold red lettering, "Cherry Poppers."

Again, nervously, Shaun peered around as he held the magazine against the envelope to prevent onlookers from seeing the contents. But it was still early and only a few people were milling about, touting their matching luggage on wheels behind them as the plastic wheels squeaked loudly from gate to gate. He cautiously thumbed through the pages of the magazine as the erection began growing in his cargo pants. Montage after montage showed in sequence the anal, oral, and vaginal deflowering of girls, some of whom were still in diapers. None of the girls in the magazine looked particularly pleased with their sexual experience, which of course aroused Shaun even more.

As if afraid to turn another page, the young man slid the magazine and other contents back inside the envelope, and using the brass bracket, resealed the package. Shaun's timing could not have been better, since shortly after doing so a young mother with her bubbly five year old daughter sat down not too far from him. He looked at the young girl in her white and pink t-shirt with Barbie plastered on the front of it and her matching pink denim shorts. The mother was trying to read a Newsweek magazine that had been left in one of the plastic chairs. She, the mother, was a very attractive, executive-looking woman. Her dark chestnut hair was pulled back in a tight bob. Her smooth thighs and calves were only slightly concealed by a pair of opaque navy blue pantyhose that ran up to meet a short, tight fitting cobalt blue dress that was accented with gaudy gold buttons.

"Settle down, Amy" the mother half-heartedly chided.

Shaun could not erase the imagery from the magazine from his mind, and covered his lap with the envelope as he envisioned himself with the young girl, pulling down the back of her pink shorts and along with them her thin cotton panties which he envisioned as being white with pink elastic banding. Her mother would watch on lustfully as he forced his member into the little girl's tight rectum. The blood-engorged head of his cock pushing through the muscular ring of her anus as the girl began to scream in pain. His eyes rolled back in his head as he tried not to let this fantasy go too far. This had been the first time such a vision had occurred in public in some time. He always tried to control them, as if fearing someone would read his thoughts.

It was not long after the mother and her daughter arrived that more and more would-be passengers began to arrive. Shaun waited impatiently, trying to suppress the anxieties and fear that were welling up inside of him. Finally he watched out the window as the 747 began to taxi in towards the terminal, slowly crawling up to the connecting arm that would allow him to board the large white and blue jumbo jet. A few minutes later, a woman's voice, heavy with static, announced that they were seating the first-class section of the airplane, and so with duffle bag and envelope in tow, he hurriedly got onto the plane and found his large plush leather seat.

A few people were already on board, this was just a brief stop for them on their way to New York or Rome. Not to long after he had been seated the rest of the passengers began to board, glaring at him and the others who were sitting in the posh first class section. He watched as the young mother and her child walked past and tried to fight the urge to think of the two of them again, feeling as if he were being watched or set-up the whole time. Fifteen or twenty minutes had passed before the intercom came on and a deep soothing voice came through the speakers.

"This is your captain speaking, we will be taking off shortly, we just need to taxi onto runway number three and wait for the clearance from the tower. The estimated time to New York is 2 hours and 23 minutes where we will have a brief layover to refuel before carrying on to Rome, Italy. I'd like to take this time to thank you for flying with Pan Am, if there is anything you need during your flight, do not hesitate to ask our stewardesses."

Following the brief oration the stewardesses came to the front of the isles and explained everything from the belt buckles to the flotation devices. Shaun had not flown in many years but remembered quite well the fear he had the first time they explained the devices he would need in the event of a crash. As the plane began to roll forward on the tarmac and taxi out to the runway, he watched as smaller jets, 707's, 727's and the like, landed or took off. Finally they stopped at the end of the runway and the engines began to throttle up. They sped down the runway at a good clip, the plane bumping up and down slightly before finally there were no more bumps as he felt the jet slowly take to the sky.

Shaun was seated in the middle row and so could not quite clearly see out a window, but looking over to the right he could see out one of them past the profile of an olive skinned man. He watched for a short bit as they soared of the trees and then banked to the left giving him a view of the airport as the rose into the sky. A few minutes later the seat belt sign went off and the cabin resonated with the metallic "clicks" of people undoing the fasteners that held them tightly in their seats.

Shaun was in the rear of the first class cabin, a wall separating him from those unfortunate enough to be in business class and coach. There were only a few people in first class, and only one who was in line of site of him, the olive-skinned man who certainly looked Italian and who was probably on his way back from a business trip.

When the swarthy-looking man got up from his chair and headed for the staircase that would take him to the bar on the second deck, Shaun pulled out the manila envelope once again and removed the black-covered magazine.

The stewardesses had already come to take drink orders and bring hot towels, so he didn't fear their return to him. With this in mind, he opened up the periodical carefully and secretively. He flipped further this time and turned to a page where a young girl of perhaps eight laid atop a bail of hay, the color of which nearly matched the girl's blond locks. The girl's face was already streaked with tears as she lay straddled atop the hay, her hands shackled with leather manacles in front of her as her smooth ass was slung off the back of the hay. A hairy, fat man and a bleach-blond haired European looking woman moved into the frame in the next panel, bringing with them a large black Great Dane that was nearly twice the size of the small girl. The next frames depicted the woman orally and manually getting the mastiff's gargantuan red cock erect.

"Excuse me, would you care for a pillow?" a stewardess asked kindly in a smooth dry accent, an almost non-accent that showed she had obviously taken voice training or acting lessons to get rid of whatever accent she had had before.

"No thanks" Shaun replied with a stunned expression

"What are you reading?" the lithe young woman asked as she leaned on the headrest of the seat in front of him.

"Nothi.. Nothing, nothing at all." he stuttered back.

"Well it must be good" the woman replied coyly as she looked down at the bulge in the boy's pants with a devilish grin before turning around and sauntering off - as if inviting him to stare at her buttocks which was nicely outlined by the tight-fitting uniform.

"I've really gotta put this away." Shaun declared to himself as he slid the magazine back into the envelope.

Shaun did not bother to take in the view of the Manhattan skyline as they approached LaGuardia, nor did he bother to leave the airplane during the short layover. He remained seated in his comfortable lazy boy-esque leather chair, taking in the perks of first class, which for a boy who had been raised in virtual squalor, was something he thought he would never have had the opportunity to do.

"Did you finish your magazine?" the sublime, dark-haired stewardess asked as she moved near him in the cabin, removing rubbish that had been left behind.

"No...not really." he replied in a wispy voice.

"Well you should have plenty of time on this flight." she said in her dry, but sultry voice. "And if you need to, there's a bathroom on the second deck" her finger pointed up as her left hand grabbed a pillow. "Its at the end of the bar, no one really uses it." looking back over her shoulder she gave him that same devilish grin as she had done before, bending over the arm rail of the seat to grab one of the flimsy airline pillows that felt as if it were covered in medical gauze. In doing so Shaun could see all the way up her thighs to where the thick black elastic band of her stockings ended, each one secured on either side by a thin, black satin strap.

As she leaned over further he could also see her black thong parted rump as well as the negligible crotch from the sides of which her dark pink labial lips protruded just slightly-even viewing what appeared to be two plastic tabs on the crotch of her thong.

"Its a nice view, huh?" the woman almost mockingly giggled. Shaun couldn't have helped but stare in his sleepless, nerve shattered state, but he did not reply.

"Here, you might need this for later." she said with her heart-shaped lips that glistened with a crimson brown lipstick. She reached into a pocket in the half apron belt that sat atop the front of her skirt and pulled out a travel sized bottle of Johnson and Johnson's baby oil. "It comes in handy sometimes" she said as she again leaned against the seat in front of him. "If you need some more 'inspiration' just let me know." again came that devilish grin.

But that would be the last innuendo he received from the woman. Shortly after take off the Shaun could no longer fight off the weariness that plagued him and he fell into a deep sleep. The next thing he knew a strong hand was shaking his shoulder, and as his eyes focused he again saw the sterile cabin of the airplane. This time all the lights were on as it was dark outside where they now were. "We're here, my friend." The jet black haired man with the olive skin said to him and then moved down the isle.

Shaun grabbed his black duffle bag as well as the envelope and hurriedly exited the plane. As he filled out into the terminal he could see lots of people of all races, ages, and sex. Some were greeting loved ones, others were walking off towards the baggage claim with there carry on luggage in hand. But in the midst of the crowd was a man holding a white placard on which was written "Weaver, S."

The man holding the sign board was the same as the man in the picture, a man who looked a mix between Eastern European and Far East Asian. He had a white beard in an almost fu-man-chu style in which were woven jade colored beads. He wore the outfit of a fancy limo driver. He had on black leather driving gloves, a short black cylindrical hat with a short patent leather brim, and his dress was nearly a tuxedo, but not quite.

Shaun thought the man reminded him of Odd Job from "Goldfinger," save for the fact that the man was no taller than five foot, three and skinnier than most jockeys. He approached the odd looking man cautiously. "Are you Swigar?" he asked

The man gave a sort of half bow, but said nothing. He reached for Shaun's duffle bag which the boy reluctantly parted with. No words were spoken from Asiatic Leprechaun of a man as he turned about and artfully moved through the crowd, checking over his shoulder occasionally to make sure Shaun was still with him. They maneuvered deftly through the maze that was the Aeroporti di Roma, clearing him through customs and then making it to the baggage claim near the check in desk on the first floor of the terminal.

From there they passed through a pair of double glass doors that opened as they approached and exited to the overhang by the pick up lane. Most people were heading for airport shuttle busses or arriving taxis, but Swigar led him to a stretched black Mercedes limousine and opened the door in the rear for him.

The interior was a light charcoal grey Corinthian leather and the trim was a dark stained, high polished cherry. The driver's compartment was completely closed off and as he sat in the rear seat Shaun could only see Swigar moving around outside of the car, placing his duffle bag in the trunk and then moving to the front of the car where he heard the door open and shut. He felt the engine turn on and rev as the pulled out into the lane.

Shaun peered out the window as the headed into downtown Rome. The streets were laid out, for the most part as they had been over two millennia ago. He could not see much at this hour of the night - bright lights of lamp posts and passing car, the occasional illuminated ruin. At one point he thought he saw part of the Coliseum, but at the speed they were traveling, he could not have been sure. They followed alongside of the Tiber river for some time as they moved through the heart of Rome, finally crossing over the black snake-like shape as they headed out of the city, making there way west towards the port city of Lido di Ostia, which lay on the lapping waters of the Tyrrhenian sea.

It was not a long drive, a little over an hour at most. Lido di Ostia was much smaller than Rome, but the shops along the sides of the road looked much more interesting and less touristy as they passed, the occasional onlooker pointing at the stretched limousine as they headed down to the harbor. He could see the ocean approaching as the passed from dockside warehouse to dockside warehouse, finally approaching what appeared to be a large pier. However, the limousine was parked facing the pier and Shaun could only see the water to either side of it, reflecting the lights from the town behind him off the crests of waves. He heard the front passenger door open, but could not see who got out, and then the driver's side door, out of which came Swigar who passed to the rear of the automobile and opened the trunk, retrieving his long, black satchel.

The short little man came to the rear compartment and unlocked the door. As he opened the door, he then motioned for Shaun to follow. Shaun stretched out his arms and legs before moving out onto the pavement in front the peer. He looked down the dock and could see large white gulls stooped atop the piles that held the pier up above the water. At the end of the wooden structure was an odd looking vehicle. It looked like a large boat with wings, atop of which were large engines with propellers at the front. The sea plane appeared as if from a film-noir movie, or like the seaplanes which were used as recon planes by the navy during WWII.

Swigar motioned with a bony, weather worn finger towards the airplane as he followed behind him. The sea plane was only slightly illuminated by the orange glow of a lamp post at the end of the pier and the bright white and blue running lights that hung beneath the wings of the airplane. The sea gulls gawked loudly as the two men approached. When Shaun reached the gang-plank at the end of the pier the slightly oval shaped door of the white seaplane opened and he was surprised to see a familiar face.

"You sure do get around, kid" the woman's voice called out in that non-existent accent of hers while she stood to the side of the door, keeping it held open for both he and Swigar. Shaun had to duck to enter through the small portal, Swigar of course did not. He entered into the cabin of the plane which was far more plush than the outside. It had been fitted with fine amenities that reminded him of the inside of the limousine that had brought him here. The cabin was not laid out like a normal airplane with rows of seats, but rather there were couches and tables as well as large flat panel screen TV's.

Shaun now felt how eminent his position was. Obviously "Mr. A" was powerful enough and wealthy enough to not only afford his luxury travel expenses, but plant one of his "agents" onboard a trans-Atlantic carrier. "Didn't think you'd see me again so soon, did you?" she said with a wry grin as she took the black bag from Swigar and stuffed it in an overhead compartment. "still have your reading material, I see"

Swigar moved to a door at the front of the cabin, opened it, and closed it behind him. A few seconds later Shaun could hear the engines beginning to warm up. He watched the propellers begin to spin faster and faster until they just became a round opaque blur.

"Where are we going?" Shaun asked in a tone that could not belie his fear.

"To Mr. Hessian's resort." she replied quickly as she moved to the rear of the cabin where she fixed him a drink. As she returned, sauntering back provocatively as she had done on the first two flights, she leaned closer to him. "Don't worry, you will like it there, I promise." she said sitting the smooth glass tumbler filled with a dark liquor and coke concoction on the table next to him. Shaun peered down the front of her blouse while she set a napkin down on the table and shifted the glass on top of it. He could see the top of her black lace bra as she leaned forward.

"Oh, you are a bad boy...you will definitely like it there" she said in her wicked sexual husk.

The thin stewardess moved to the front of the cabin as the plane began to taxi out into the water, bobbing up and down as it did. The plane began to pick up speed as she sat in a chair near the door to the cockpit, her legs spread tauntingly, knowing the young boy would be taking in the show. "A little bit choppier than the last flight, eh?" she commented as the seaplane struggled to get air born. But as the vehicle lifted out of the stygian black waters, the chop disappeared and a semblance of normality had returned.

Shaun had been traveling by one means or another for almost 12 hours now, and though he had slept through a good portion of it, the general malaise of travel had sunk in.

Once the plane leveled out, Shaun began to sip at the potent drink as he watched the nameless beauty get out of her chair and move to one of the large screens. "You might find this entertaining, Mr. Weaver."

Pushing a few buttons, the screen turned on, going from black to sharp, vivid, high definition colors. He could hear what was on the TV before it came into view, a thwacking of flesh against flesh and almost tearful moans.

Shaun's hands shook as he continued drinking, watching as the picture cleared and he saw the image of a pre teen girl, naked save for a white cotton training bra, bouncing atop a man's lap. The camera angle lowered as the man spread open the girl's smooth thighs, revealing her nearly hairless pubic mound and her slit bellow. The girl's pussy lips were spread wide open by the girth of the gentleman's cock which was coated in merlot-colored virgin blood. The girl winced between moans as the man pushed his left hand beneath one of the cups of the tiny training bra. Shaun looked at the girl on the screen and then over to the stewardess, the resemblance was striking.

"That was you?" Shaun asked shyly

She moved away from the screen..."Uh huh,...he was a big man too. I was sore for a week" she said non-chalantly. "But that wasn't my first time." she said noticing the way he looked at her younger self's bloody cunt. "I was just starting to menstruate and Mr. Hessian wanted me to get pregnant. He told me you would like it." she said as she started to pull up her skirt, revealing once more her stockings and the black garter belt, as well as her cute black cotton thong panties. "I'm bleeding now, you know." she said pulling down the front of her panties, exposing her clean shaven mound and the pink slit bellow. Inside the crotch of the panties he could see a thin maxi pad, the kind designed for thongs. The crotch of the pad was stained heavily with almost black and crimson menstrual blood.

"You like it when girl's bleed there, don't you?" she asked in a cutesy little girl voice.

It was at that point that Shaun noticed the metallic taste in his mouth and he watched as the cabin of the airplane began to spin. "Wha...What's going on?" he managed to say, struggling as he set the drink down. "Nighty night, Mr. Weaver." she said with a grin as she waddled forward, her panties still around her knees.

Contact with comments at:Lord_Alistair_Chamberlain@hotmail.com