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From: Incest Man <incestman@graffiti.net>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.hetero,alt.sex.stories.d,alt.sex.stories.incest
Subject: "The Family Pet" Chapter 6
Date: Sat, 11 Feb 2006 13:43:21 -0800
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===================
http://www.incesttabooo.com/fampet.html
The Family Pet
Chapter 6
Several blocks away, however, on Central Skeet, Karen Rogers was
totally unaware of the obscene events taking place in her own house.
She
was trudging home dejectedly deep in her own thoughts, totally awkward
and
at sea. What was her mother going to say when she showed up so early
from
school? And how could she explain it?
You see, mom, I got kicked out of school because Mrs. Brewster
caught
me masturbating in the girls' toilet.
No, she couldn't possibly say anything like that. But what would
she
say in excuse when her strait-laced mother was called to school and
this
embarrassing intelligence was offered to her? The young blonde
teenager
felt locked in a box from which there was no escape, and which seemed
to
be getting smaller by the second. She could think of no answers --
there
were only questions, building up without pause in overwhelming
progression. Her life had suddenly become very complex indeed.
If only Mrs. Brewster hadn't caught her in the girls' room with
two
fingers slicing obscenely in and out of her hotly sucking little cunt.
If
only Johnny Magnus hadn't kissed her before class.
She could blame it on Johnny to some extent, she realized, and
that
even made her feel a little better. Because if he hadn't grabbed her
in
back of the coal chute that morning, and pressed her mouth open wide in
a
long, lingering kiss, with his tongue thrust between her teeth and
lapping
hungrily at her own tongue, her belly wouldn't have exploded like that.
Oh God, the way he kissed her, rubbing his hand on her sensitively
budding
young breasts and grinding his loins hard up against her swollen pussy
mound. Oh God, if that hadn't happened, then she wouldn't have had to
go
to the washroom and finger-fuck herself!
Of course, part of it had begun that morning. The little
situation
between her father and herself, when he had pressed his thigh tight
into
her loins, had turned her right on! And she hadn't been able to get
her
mind off the big stiff member she had felt bulging against her leg as
they
clinched. She just bet that he blew mother's head off with that, and
she
had been jealous at the thought as well as excited by the feel.
So that really Johnny Magnus' obscene French kiss had just been
the
finishing blow. She had almost strangled on his tongue, but she had
left
him huffily with her loins simply awash with excitement and her cuntal
lips itching desperately. Consequently for almost all morning she was
excusing herself to go to the toilet, and claiming that she didn't feel
too well, in order to justify this.
Then the minute she had closed the door to her little cubicle, she
sat down on the toilet seat, spread her legs wide and wormed her
fingers
down into the snug elastic strip of her panties to get at her wildly
seeping pussy lips. After rubbing her middle finger in and out of her
desire-engorged cunt, making a sluicing sucking noise that seemed to
fill
the bathroom. She then inserted a second finger and spent several more
lewd minutes driving them both in and out between her trembling legs,
thinking of everything sexy that she could -- her father, Johnny, and
even
that German shepherd her mother had set out a plate of food for that
morning. After calming herself down, she returned to class.
But Mrs. Brewster must have become somewhat suspicious at all her
hasty exits that morning, because the last time Karen left the room,
apparently she was followed. And just as the unsuspecting young girl
settled down into a perfectly dreamy rhythm of slicing three fingers up
and down and in and out of her burning vagina and was almost on the
verge
of a beautiful fulfilling orgasm, the door to the cubicle had been
jerked
open, and there was Mrs. Brewster, a look of pure rage on her
ordinarily
placid features.
"So! Young lady!" the mortified matron had exclaimed. "This is
how
you look after yourself, you filthy minded creature! I might have
suspected as much. And here I was coming to ask if you felt sick
enough
to go to the school nurse! Of all the ..."
"Mrs. Brewster, I can explain --"
"No explanations are necessary! You will bend over at once and
present your bare bottom to my belt, young lady! And be quick!"
"But Mrs. Brewster --" Smack! Her teacher had given her such a
slap
in the face that the pretty platinum-haired teenager had hustled to
comply
with her imperious directive, quickly slipping her white nylon panties
down around her knees and spreading her legs so that she was bent over
slightly with her hands planted flat against the wall over the toilet.
"Mrs. Brewster ..." she had tried to protest again, but to no
avail.
The enraged teacher's voice was harsh and firm and dominating!
"You
have misbehaved by masturbating here with your fingers deep in your
cunt,
Karen ... and there is absolutely no excuse for you. A nice lady keeps
her fingers where they should be, and to teach you that, I'm going to
beat
the devil out of you!"
As she spoke, Mrs. Brewster undid the thin black patent belt of
her
dress and buckled it up into a wicked-looking loop. Then she began
slapping lightly at her bare pink bottom with the shiny side of the
black
leather belt.
But it hadn't hurt as much as Karen had expected and indeed after
awhile it seemed merely a feather stroke -- but a feather which was
suffusing a deep warmth of enervating desire throughout her sensitive
young loins with each small slap.
At first she couldn't actually believe it was happening, but it
was
true. For as Mrs. Brewster "spanked" her, her cuntal region began to
feel
more aroused rather than less, until finally she was squirming with
desire
and fairly gurgling with happiness, her moist cuntal furrow becoming
all
drippy and trickling thick white moisture down her shivering long pale
legs.
"You will be good, you little wanton heathen! You will be good!
Say
it!"
"Oh yes, I'll be good, Mrs. Brewster! Please let me up! I won't
do
it again!"
"You'd better not, or I'll whip that smooth little bottom of
yours,
do you understand?"
"Oh yes, Mrs. Brewster! I understand! Only let me go! Please!"
And with that, the "punishment" suddenly ceased. Her teacher
walked
up behind her, threading her fingers into her thirteen year old
charge's
silky bright hair and fingering it as if it were money. Then Karen
felt
the older woman's hand smooth down over her harshly stinging buttocks,
almost obscenely patting and manipulating her smooth young flesh.
"Is that better, dear?" the teacher asked cooingly into Karen's
small, shell-like ear, her breath making the girl shiver.
"Yes -- yes, Mrs. Brewster, I'll be all right now." And then she
had
struggled to her feet and managed to get her thin white panties on as
Mrs.
Brewster's hands continued to wander all over her quivering young
hyper-
sexed body.
"You know, you'll have to bring your mother to school, dear."
"Yes, I know."
Why had Mrs. Brewster kept touching her so knowledgeably and so
boldly all over, Karen wondered. But she supposed that was just her
way
of comforting. Finally the mortified teenager broke from the little
cubicle and ran sobbing from the girls' room, pausing only at her
locker
to pick up her coat and purse. Then she'd left the school building as
fast as her legs would carry her, with Mrs. Brewster's voice still
ringing
in her ears, "Wait, Karen!"
She had been too ashamed to look back, and now here she was,
walking
down Central Street on her sorrowful way home.
She paused briefly to feed the pigeons in Wilmette Park, but she
really couldn't think of much to do to further delay her arrival home.
Maybe she should go home and take a nap, anyway. She would masturbate
in
her own bed much better, anyway.
"Hello little girl."
Karen looked around. There was a little old man seated at the
bench
next to hers in the park. Not only was he old, but he was very dirty
looking. A classic dirty old man, in fact. With short grizzled white
whiskers, rather beady blue eyes staring at her, and just a trace of
spittle on his ancient lips. He was rather bent over, too, as if he
needed a good month in traction to straighten him out. In fact, bent
over
like this he looked even shorter than she was.
"Hello," she said mildly, wondering why he had spoken to her.
Surely
he couldn't smell her perfume from all the way over there. Maybe he
was
just lonely. It couldn't hurt to talk to him.
When she said hello in response to his greeting he immediately
shifted from his bench to hers. Now he crossed his legs and looked
around, just a foot or so separating them on the park bench. Why did
he
keep looking at her like that?
"Like some nice candy, little girl?" he asked, rattling a little
white bag at her.
"Sure," she said, letting him pour a handful of the
white-wrappered
candies into her hand, and thinking at the same time of the many
warnings
her mother had given her about talking to strangers. Surely, though,
this
guy was just being nice. She sat back against the back of the bench
with
the breeze blowing her fine platinum hair around her shoulders and her
mini-skirt up over her well-formed thighs until the upside-down peak of
her panties were showing where it covered her still throbbing pussy
mound.
Hurriedly Karen pushed her skirt down again, and then began unwrapping
one
of the pieces of candy from its wax wrapper. It turned out to be a
sticky
chewy sort of stuff, and she wasn't too fond of it, but on the other
hand
she wanted to be sociable.
"Y're out of school early, aincha?" the man said after a bit,
edging
closer to her on the warm wooden bench in the bright spring sunshine.
"Uh, yeah ... uh, teacher's meeting," she stammered. God, she
certainly couldn't tell him the real reason, could she!
Then suddenly the man slid the rest of the way across the park
bench
toward her and arched her shoulder with his bony arm.
"You're a nice little girl," he said, and Karen gave a muffled
little
cry and struggled to get away. But the man held her fast and spoke
harshly in her ear. "Hold still, little girl. I just want to show you
something I think you're going to like."
The old man cackled and Karen struggled even harder, but in vain.
Suddenly he zipped down his pants and reached inside, pulling out the
lengthy wizened shaft of his semi-rigid penis, and then reaching below
it
to drag out his almost shriveled testicles as well.
"See that!" he whispered, completely exposed now. "How do you
like
that!" And he grabbed her flailing hand and pressed it tight around
the
blood-swollen rod of his cock.
At first Karen was mystified. She had never heard of men who
exposed
themselves to young girls before. And my God, his penis felt thick and
hot and hard, pulsing under her reluctant hand like a caged animal.
But
then after a few moments, the young teenager began to realize the
potential danger of the situation she was in, and with a sudden wild
scream and a violent lurch, she broke out of the man's temporarily
relaxed
grip. With her purse never removed from her shoulder, and her blonde
hair
flying, the frightened girl went running from the park without even a
backward glance.
After that Karen must have walked for miles. The day had become
quite balmy, and she went up Green Bay Road for a little bit trying to
calm her nerves and get her breath back, then along the cobbles on
Cockspur Street, and then later along Dobcroft Road in the direction of
the lake.
Walking didn't seem to diminish her sadly banked sexual
smoldering,
however, and eventually she couldn't think of anything except how hot
and
obscenely thick that man's penis had been. Oh God, how good it would
feel
thrusting up between her legs! All she could think about was getting
back
to her house in a hurry and then finger-fucking herself like crazy! Oh
but cripes, her mom would kill her for leaving school early, sure as
anything. What on earth could she do?
She closed her eyes and tried to control the churning turmoil in
her
loins, but it was no use. Merely pressing her thighs closely together
was
no help. She needed some distraction.
Maybe she should go by to visit her Aunt Betty, her father's older
sister, who lived not far from their house. Despite the fact that she
was
older than Karen's mother by a good margin, it was often Aunt Betty to
whom Karen turned to confide in when things were not going well. And
Betty was "hip" and wore bell-bottom trousers. She was very youthful
for
her age, and was the sort of modern person a young girl could talk to
without feeling put off by her age.
Not that she wasn't attractive. Aunt Betty had long, light brown
hair which she kept streaked sexily down the center, and it was often
rumored that she took lovers during her frequent trips to Miami,
ostensibly business trips required by her job, but really probably just
to
get away from her fat unkempt business-man-husband .
Aunt Betty was understanding. She was modern. Karen always felt
instinctively as if she could confide in her. No matter how old her
Aunt
Betty got, she always understood young people. Which was something she
couldn't say for her own mother, who often seemed to have stuffy, old-
fashioned ideas.
So Karen got up from her bench laboriously and set off to see her
swinging aunt. Aunt Betty would show how to advise her about this
terrible, all-consuming sexual problem.
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