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From: cmsix <cmsix@storiesonline.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.d
References: <1163273294.109325.138890@f16g2000cwb.googlegroups.com> <1163318301.154848.284960@f16g2000cwb.googlegroups.com>
Subject: Re: Ksenia - Other Things (Mg, pedo, non-cons)
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Date: Sun, 12 Nov 2006 09:23:46 +0000
===================
An even bigger problem is you don't know which groups to post stories
in. Your ignorance of usenet is showing.
cmsix
"jmart411" <yahmart1@juno.com> wrote in message
news:1163318301.154848.284960@f16g2000cwb.googlegroups.com...
> You have a serious problem in that, you don't understand what type
> of
> wickedness you are planting in the minds of men throughout the
> world.
> Your ways will not continue though. Mark my word, you will regret
> that
> you posted this one day and you will regret it with great
> bitterness.
> If you do not, you will not be allowed to live when judgement day
> comes.
>
>
>
> bigguy2005@mail.ru wrote:
>> STORY: Ksenia - Other Things (Mg, pedo, non-cons)
>> by Baldwin
>>
>> This is a work of fiction (based, however on a true story). Read
>> stories, don't hurt kids.
>>
>>
>>
>> There is a land far to the north, a land near the dawn and far from
>> the
>> throbbing pulsation of modern life. There the winters are fierce
>> and
>> long, the summers short and merciless in heat and the over
>> abundance of
>> insect life. The settlements and villages flung far across the face
>> of
>> distant Siberia know few comforts, their inhabitants live off of
>> what
>> they can grow and what little they are able to earn supporting
>> opulent
>> business owners who exploit their labor and rape the virgin forests
>> of
>> that great land. So much like those forests are the men who destroy
>> them, old and broken down, who turn their faces from truth and
>> goodness
>> for the sake of the moment.
>>
>> Ksenia was about nine years old, small for her age and thin, her
>> drunken father sparing little from his drinking to nurture his
>> daughter. She had dirty blonde hair which was usually drawn back in
>> a
>> careless pigtail and soft blue eyes that had a sad adult look to
>> them.
>> If you were to meet her in the street you would find the mature,
>> sad
>> look of those eyes set within her young face a paradox not easily
>> explained and very much impressive, leaving the observer feeling
>> almost
>> as though little Ksenia had lived too long and seen too much for
>> her
>> tender age of nine.
>>
>> This afternoon she was playing with her friend Natasha, setting
>> little
>> bits of wood they had fashioned into play boats afloat in puddles
>> left
>> by the recent rain. Ksenia was wearing a pair of tight yellow
>> shorts,
>> already too small for her and a pale blue tea shirt that had been
>> too
>> small for her last summer but which she managed to stretch onto her
>> thin frame. She squatted next to the murky water, moving her toy
>> boat
>> about the puddle with a long stick. Natasha glanced up and then
>> hissed
>> at Ksenia.
>>
>> "Ksenia, it's your papa." The little girl warned her friend,
>> looking
>> worriedly towards the rough looking man coming down the street.
>> "Natasha, I'll probably need to go home." Ksenia said, standing up
>> and throwing down her stick. Maybe we can play down by the river
>> this
>> evening?"
>> "All right," Natasha said, looking worriedly as the large man
>> careened down the street towards them. "I had better be going
>> home,
>> though."
>>
>> Ksenia nodded her agreement. She had grown used to the fact that
>> whenever her father showed up everyone else seemed to want to
>> leave.
>> She turned towards the drunken figure and prepared herself for what
>> she
>> intuitively knew was coming. The man drug himself forward,
>> stumbling
>> over himself and nearly falling several times. With great effort
>> and
>> mounting rage he closed in on the little girl. Ksenia wondered if
>> she
>> should run away, but then she would just get in more trouble when
>> he
>> found her later. She bit her lower lip and shifted her weight from
>> foot
>> to foot.
>>
>> "You little bitch!" bellowed the man. "I've been lookin' for you
>> all over!" He grabbed her by her arm and shook her violently.
>> Ksenia
>> felt like her head was going to snap off but knew from experience
>> that
>> it wouldn't. "Look at me you little hussy," he shouted into her
>> face, continuing to shake her. "I won't have you running away not
>> having your chores done. I feed and clothe you and the least you
>> could
>> do is a few chores. Shit!"
>> "I'm sorry papa; I was just playing with..."
>> "Shut up, bitch!" He shouted at her. "Get your little butt home,
>> now!"
>> "Yes, papa." She said, a tear forming in the corner of her eye.
>>
>> Sergey Pushkarov shoved his daughter ahead of him and slowly
>> staggered
>> behind her towards their little cabin on the edge of town. Life was
>> not
>> what it used to be. It seemed that after every binge his body ached
>> more and more. He needed to get some more alcohol or he was sure he
>> would die from his upcoming hangover. The trouble was that he had
>> no
>> money and no merchant or boot leg dealer would advance him any more
>> credit.
>>
>> When Sergey lagged a bit behind her, Ksenia took off running
>> arriving
>> several minutes before him and began to clean. Sergey stumbled in
>> the
>> door and smiled.
>> "That's my good little girl, gets right to her chores!" He grinned
>> a
>> toothy, yellow smile and pushed her to the side as he made his way
>> across their little kitchen, through the rag curtain into the
>> single
>> bedroom. Ksenia heard him throw himself down on the metal spring
>> bed
>> and took a deep sigh of relief as she heard him begin to snore. She
>> would have several hours to get things in order before he was awake
>> again.
>>
>>
>> The sun had turned an orange color as evening began to creep up on
>> the
>> little village. Night, at this time of year would only by an
>> intermittent twilight between dusk and dawn, but the heat was
>> subsiding
>> and the bugs were out humming in fathomless hordes. Ksenia had
>> spent
>> the better part of four hours cleaning the kitchen space, and the
>> living room. She had tirelessly collected vodka bottles and beer
>> cans
>> and spirits jugs. They had almost no furniture, and no rugs or
>> carpets,
>> the single table in the kitchen, a broken TV stand in the living
>> room,
>> the single bed in the bedroom (and that without a proper mattress)
>> and
>> a mismatched assortment of half broken chairs was all that the
>> demon of
>> alcoholism had not devoured. After collecting the garbage left from
>> a
>> weeks binge she swept and mopped, cleaning away vomit and dried
>> human
>> refuse. Why did papa have to drink so much, she thought. Why
>> couldn't
>> he be like other fathers and work and repair his house and buy good
>> food and a pretty little dress for her. She felt tired, weary of
>> life
>> at the tender age of nine.
>>
>> Ksenia could remember better times, though only vaguely. She
>> remembered
>> a nice woman she had called mother. She remembered a clean house
>> and a
>> nice couch and a thick rug. The house she thought was different,
>> with
>> bright wallpaper and colored floors, not at all like the dingy
>> faded
>> and torn paper that barely adorned their walls or the chafed and
>> checked up wooden floors of their current dwelling. She remembered
>> candy and oranges and a life without care, clean sheets and her own
>> bed, a real bed, not the pile of rags she slept on in the living
>> room.
>> But of all the memories the best was of the woman she called
>> mother,
>> how she would sit on her lap and the woman would hold her close and
>> softly stroke her hair and tell her nice stories and call her
>> precious
>> names, which Ksenia had all but forgotten. The girl wiped a rag
>> across
>> the kitchen table, her other hand dashing away a tear. She could
>> still
>> cry. A few more years and gentle little Ksenia would forget even
>> that.
>>
>> Sergey moaned and snorted from behind the rag partition. Ksenia
>> scanned
>> the kitchen, hoping beyond hope that he would like what he saw. She
>> stood by the table, looking attentively to the curtain, waiting for
>> her
>> father to emerge from his room. She heard him slide his feet off
>> the
>> bed, groaning all the while. She heard the floor boards' creek as
>> he
>> stood up. She heard him shuffle forward. His hand brushed the rag
>> curtain aside.
>> "Oh," he moaned, rubbing his blood shot eyes and running a hand
>> across his face. "My head hurts." He stumbled across the room and
>> dropped onto a stool next to the table. Ksenia made sure to stay
>> just
>> out of his reach, just in case.
>> "Been keeping yourself busy, ah?" Sergey mumbled, looking sideways
>> at his daughter. Where's dinner?" He looked at her, waiting for an
>> answer.
>> "Papa, there wasn't anything in the cupboards..." her voice trailed
>> off as she realized her excuses wouldn't do anything but anger him.
>> "What," Sergey squinted at her disdainfully. "You didn't make
>> anything at all! I don't know what I keep you around for. You good
>> for
>> nothing little hussy. I should just ..." his voice trailed off as
>> the
>> insanity of his demands began to sink into his alcohol soaked
>> brain. Or
>> maybe he just lost track of his thoughts. At any rate he left her
>> alone, laying his throbbing head on the table.
>>
>> Ksenia was just waiting for him to leave. She hoped to meet up with
>> Natasha down at the river. It was already getting late and
>> Natasha's
>> parents wouldn't let her stay out too long. If only he would go
>> back to
>> bed. Or go out. Or fall asleep at the table. She really did not
>> care;
>> she just hoped she could get to see her friend again.
>>
>> A step sounded on the path outside, the rickety gate, hanging by
>> one
>> hinge, leading into their yard cracked open and scraped closed.
>> Ksenia
>> hoped it might be one of her father's drinking friends, then she
>> could
>> slip away without Sergey noticing. A light, confident step came up
>> to
>> the front door.
>>
>> Even before he was at the door, Ksenia knew who it was. It had to
>> be
>> Dimitri Rukasuev. She could tell by his stride, and the fact that
>> he
>> went to the trouble to close the gate. Dimitri was a nice man,
>> about
>> twenty-five. As tall as her father but much leaner, all his muscles
>> toned. He was clean and always smelled like cologne. His black hair
>> was
>> always slicked back, his dark eyes flashing in his well-tanned
>> face. He
>> always wore a nice exercise suite and a light t-shirt. Ksenia
>> didn't
>> mind Dimitri, he was always nice to her and she never remembered
>> him
>> being drunk. He loaned her father money and sometimes gave him
>> vodka in
>> exchange for house hold items. He always gave her some candy.
>> Recently
>> she had noticed him watching her. It made her feel awkward.
>>
>> A quick rap sounded on the doorpost and then a young man stepped
>> in,
>> not waiting to be admitted. Sergey turned to see who the intruder
>> was.
>> "Ah, Dimitri, what did you come over for?" Sergey grinned up at the
>> young man painfully, eying a large plastic sack that Dimitri
>> carried.
>> Could he make out the contour of a bottle in the bag? Maybe two!
>> "Hello, old man, off your binge yet?" queried Dimitri, offering his
>> hand. Sergey leaned over and shook the young man's hand, while
>> waving
>> him in, offering him the seat across from him.
>> "Nah, not really a binge you know, just a bit of fun. But I could
>> use a drink to help my head ache." Sergey rubbed his eyes, his
>> hands
>> shaking as he did, betraying the fact that his "little fun" had
>> lasted far too long.
>> "You know Sergey, I'm not a philanthropist." Dimitri smiled,
>> setting
>> the plastic bag on the table and pulling it down a bit, revealing
>> its
>> contents. The bag contained a stick of sausage, a generous slice of
>> cheese, a small jar of pickles, a loaf of white bread, a plastic
>> jug of
>> Baltic 5 beer and two nice looking bottles of elite vodka. Once
>> Sergey
>> had a chance to register all the contents of the bag, Dimitri
>> closed it
>> up again and removed it from the table.
>> "A philanthi-what?" questioned Sergey, eying the bag as it settled
>> next to Dimitri on the floor. Dimitri could only partially mask the
>> disgust he felt for Sergey. With a patronizing smirk, Dimitri
>> turned to
>> where little Ksenia sat, squatting in the corner near the brick
>> stove,
>> obviously trying to make herself scarce. Reaching into his pocket
>> and
>> pulling out several small caramel flavored sugar candies, Dimitri
>> reached a hand towards the girl.
>> "Here you go, Ksenia, have some candy." Ksenia stood up and took
>> the
>> candy from the man's hand.
>> "Thank you." She mumbled, looking at the floor. As she took the
>> candy she could almost feel his eyes moving over her. She did not
>> like
>> the way he looked at her, how his eyes wondered from her face. She
>> could feel the heat rising in her cheeks and a tingling of fear and
>> excitement ran through her. Sergey was annoyed at the obvious
>> distraction his daughter had become. He needed the drink that lay
>> so
>> close and yet so far away. He needed to get Dimitri back on track.
>> "Get into the bedroom and clean up, you beggar!" he growled out at
>> the girl. Ksenia scurried into the bedroom, glad to be out of reach
>> of
>> her father. She was also glad to be secluded from the eyes of
>> Dimitri,
>> if only by a thin rag curtain. She began to straighten up as the
>> men
>> continued to talk.
>> "No need to be so harsh to the child, Sergey." Dimitri said, a
>> smile
>> in his voice, mockery in his tone.
>> "I need a drink, Dimitri." Sergey whined, rubbing his hands
>> together, looking imploringly at the young man.
>> "I said, I am no saint, I don't give something for nothing."
>> Dimitri
>> said casually, looking Sergey in the eye, tracing designs with his
>> finger on the table. How desperate was the old man. He needed to
>> discover that, to draw him out.
>> "You know I don't have anything. You bought a lot of my stuff. I
>> don't have anything left. Come on, have mercy, for Christ's sake!"
>> Sergey's tone of whining had declined to a whimper, making him
>> sound
>> altogether ridiculous. What a man won't do for a good drink,
>> Dimitri
>> thought, hating Sergey more with every word he said in his debasing
>> tone.
>> "I wouldn't say you don't have anything," Dimitri smirked again,
>> glancing about the hovel. You may have something of great value,
>> something I really want."
>> "Well...I don't know...how about a hundred grams worth of vodka
>> while we discuss it?" Sergey bargained, rubbing his hands and
>> running
>> his fingers through his disheveled, greasy hair. Dimitri waved his
>> hand, brushing aside the suggestion.
>> "Yes, you have something of value, something worth the bottles and
>> the beer and snacks in this bag," Dimitri tugged on the plastic
>> sack,
>> giving emphasis to his meaning. Sergey's eyes moved franticly now
>> between Dimitri's grin and the bulging plastic bag. The contents
>> were
>> far more valuable than a lot of money. There wasn't a single
>> merchant
>> in town who he could go to with money and get drink. He had large
>> debts
>> everywhere. He could really have a nice time with a few bottles and
>> a
>> bit of food to wash it all down with. He felt his headache getting
>> worse, his hands were shaking, he felt sick. He needed to drink.
>> He'd
>> die if he didn't get some more alcohol!
>> "Stop playing with me, Dimitri!" Sergey said, his voice betraying
>> his desperation and panic. "I need some drink. None of the stores
>> will advance me any more credit. I need to have a bottle. Come on,
>> have
>> pity!"
>> "How much are you willing to give me for this," Dimitri questioned,
>> toying with his prey, holding the bag up.
>> "Anything I have. Anything!"
>> "Anything in this house?" Dimitri glanced about, as though
>> inspecting the offered goods.
>> "Yes, God damn it! Yes, anything!" Dimitri lifted the bag to the
>> table, and leaned forward as though he wanted to tell Sergey a
>> secret.
>> His smirk vanished, the playfulness in his voice disappeared, his
>> features became hard and serious.
>> "There is only one thing you have that I want." Dimitri's voice
>> was calm, almost sinister.
>> "I SAID, ANYTHING. Name your price." Sergey panted. Dimitri nodded
>> his head in the direction of the bedroom, looking Sergey closely in
>> the
>> eye, measuring up the drunk.
>> "I want to spend an hour or so with the girl." His voice was barely
>> above a whisper. Sergey sat back, his head ceased throbbing, if
>> only
>> for a minute. Had he heard Dimitri correctly? He wrinkled up his
>> forehead.
>> "Did you say you wanted to have..."
>> "Yes, you heard me right. I want to screw the little girl." Dimitri
>> leaned back a bit. "That is if you want what I brought."
>> "You're a pervert Dimitri." Sergey couldn't believe it. This was
>> incredible. Unbelievable not only that Dimitri would want to fuck
>> his
>> daughter but that he could even see that she was cute!
>> "And you're a drunk, Sergey." Dimitri didn't raise his voice but
>> his
>> tone was hard. "Do we have a deal, or should I leave?"
>> "You wouldn't really expect me to sell my only little daughter to
>> you for..."
>> "You threaten to kill the poor little thing every day. Why not make
>> use of her? I want the girl. You want the bottles. It's as simple
>> as
>> that." Dimitri waited a minute; Sergey's hands were shaking again.
>> "Or I can just go home."
>> "No Dimitri, no...I'll...you can...I got to have a bottle."
>> ` "Do we have a deal?"
>> "She's just a little girl...I..."
>> "Make up your mind, Sergey. I won't wait all night." Saying that
>> Dimitri stood up, catching the plastic bag off the table.
>> "You...you can have her." Sergey barely mumbled out the words.
>> "I knew you would be reasonable." Dimitri set the bag on the table.
>> "You gonna take her to your house?" Sergey mumbled, reaching for
>> the bag.
>> "No fool, I'll do her here. What do you think people would start to
>> think if I took her to my house?"
>> "Here...?" Sergey was working the metal cap off of a vodka bottle.
>> "Yes, here. You have a bed, right?"
>> "Yah, in the bedroom, behind you." Sergey threw back his head and
>> took a deep swig of fiery drink.
>> "Alright, I won't be long then." Dimitri turned toward the curtain.
>> "Dimitri," Sergey said, his voice quiet, the drink just beginning
>> to settle in. "Be careful. She is really pretty young."
>> "Don't worry friend, I'll be real careful."
>>
>> Ksenia had cleaned up the little bedroom, spreading the coats and
>> old
>> blankets on the bed and sweeping the garbage into the corner. She
>> didn't dare go out. She had not been interested in what the men
>> were
>> saying until she heard her father talking about his "only little
>> daughter." Why were they talking about her? The fear began rising
>> in
>> her stomach. She wanted to run away. Something was not going right,
>> a
>> foreboding was settling over her like a thick morning fog. More of
>> the
>> conversation came to her. Why would she need to go to Dimitri's
>> house?
>> What does 'screw' mean? Be careful? What was Dimitri going to do?
>>
>> She could see his form on the other side of the curtain. He turned,
>> his
>> hand pulling away the curtain. For an instant he stood framed in
>> the
>> doorway. She sat on the bed. He looked her over intensely, as
>> though he
>> would eat her with his eyes. For an instant, Ksenia saw her father
>> looking past Dimitri towards her. But just for an instant. He
>> turned
>> his head away and took another swig.
>>
>> The curtain fell into place behind Dimitri. He stepped forward and
>> sat
>> down on the bed beside her. Ksenia slipped off the bed, making as
>> to go
>> but Dimitri caught her by the arm and pulled her around to face
>> him.
>> Ksenia," he said, his voice overly soft. "You are going to have to
>> play with me for a little bit." With his free hand he began to
>> stroke
>> her hair. "I bought you for an hour or so and I need to play with
>> you."
>> "I don't want to play..." She mumbled, looking at her toes,
>> cringing
>> at his touch and wanting nothing else but to fly away.
>> "You have to. Your Papa told me I could and you have to do what
>> papa
>> says, right?" Dimitri placed a finger under Ksenia little chin and
>> lifted her head up, catching her gaze with his eyes. "You got to do
>> what I say, little one. No matter what." He almost whispered these
>> words. Ksenia felt panic rising in her, she wanted to disappear.
>> She
>> had no idea what kind of 'playing' Dimitri had in mind but she
>> knew
>> she wanted none of it. She wanted to hide.
>>
>> Dimitri spread his legs and pulled Ksenia close. He held her firmly
>> by
>> the arm with one hand while the other continued to stroke her hair
>> and
>> face. He could tell the girl was afraid, that she was near panic.
>> But
>> he also could see she had no idea what he was going to do. Why try
>> to
>> explain. She would understand it all well enough in just a few more
>> minutes.
>>
>> Dimitri had yearned for this moment for years. Now the time had
>> come,
>> finally! He stroked the her hair, running his fingers lightly
>> through
>> the loose blond strands that seemed so fine and delicate to him.
>> His
>> hand moved with the natural flow of her hair to her back where he
>> marveled at the fine curve of her spine and the delicate fragility
>> of
>> her frame. Her ran is fingers lightly along the bare skin of the
>> little
>> girl's arm and once more stroked her back.
>>
>> Dimitri released his tight grip and quickly embraced the child
>> completely, pressing her close to him, feeling the smallness of her
>> frame against his. He ran both hands along her back and sides,
>> slowly
>> spreading his fingers, as though absorbing every inch of the little
>> frame. Ksenia gasped and began to shake almost uncontrollably when
>> one
>> of those hands, grasped her butt. Dimitri massaged the tight little
>> ass
>> slowly with one hand, then brought the other down and massaged her.
>> "Papa, papa!" the little girl suddenly cried in anguish.
>> "Shut up bitch!" came Sergey's voice from behind the curtain,
>> slurred with drink. "You're nothing but a whore any way." he
>> mumbled. Ksenia's last hope for rescue stood up and turned his back
>> on her helpless plight, turned his back and left the room,
>> preferring
>> to drink on the porch, further away from the conscience prodding
>> sounds
>> of his baby girl getting fucked.
>>
>> "Shhhh," cooed Dimitri, never letting go. "None of that now. You
>> be quiet and we'll have fun. If you keep this noise up I'll have to
>> hurt you, alright?" Dimirti used his sugar voice in saying this but
>> there was something about his tone, his hard hands holding her that
>> convinced the girl that Dimitri meant business.
>>
>> The ever intrusive hands began to moves again. Dimitri ran his
>> hands
>> around her and began to stroke her side and her chest. He pushed
>> lightly on her breasts or where they would be in a few years.
>> Dimitri
>> pressed his thumbs into the little girl's chest feeling at the
>> little
>> buds that had formed.
>> "Please...no." She whimpered.
>> "Shhhh, Quiet now." Dimitri sighed back, his voice not much louder
>> than the heavy breathing coming from his lips. He ran his hands
>> down to
>> her waist and he took hold of the edge of her tight shirt. He
>> pulled it
>> up. She didn't resist, every fiber in her being telling her that to
>> resist meant pain. He pulled the shirt up and off of her and
>> breathed
>> heavily as he ran his hands over her now bare chest. The tiny
>> nipples
>> beginning to stand erect covered in goose bumps. He ran his hands
>> along
>> her sides and back, feeling the warmth of her body. He leaned
>> forward
>> and began to kiss her chest, suckling on her tiny nipples, rubbing
>> her
>> back and pressing her body into his face as he lapped on her. He
>> licked
>> his way up to her collar bone and neck and finally her face. He put
>> a
>> hand to the back of her head and began kissing her lips. She tried
>> to
>> jerk away but a strong hand grasping her hair compelled her to
>> still
>> herself.
>>
>> Finding it little fun to kiss on unwilling mouth he moved back
>> down. He
>> held her by the hips and kissed her chest. Dimitri was breathing
>> hard.
>> He was shaking with passion. His manhood ached. He had meant for
>> this
>> time to last but he simply needed to finish it; to be inside of
>> her; to
>> feel her small body taking him in.
>>
>> He moved his hands once more over her naked top, once more
>> marveling at
>> the delicate beauty of the child. He took her by the shoulders and
>> pulling her around, laid her on the bed. He quickly stood up and
>> stripped off his sports jacket and t-shirt, revealing a muscular,
>> taught body. Ksenia watched with a mixture of disbelief and terror
>> as
>> his slipped out of his slick running pants. He paused for a moment.
>> His
>> boxer shorts tented out over his erect manhood, looking down at the
>> object of his lust.
>> "I'm going to fuck you little girl," he said in a deep hoarse
>> voice. "I'm going to fuck you for all your worth!"
>>
>> Dimitri quickly stripped off his underwear and approached the bed.
>> He
>> leaned over the shaking girl who had curled up in a fetal position,
>> turning her face away from the approaching man. He gently but
>> forcibly
>> pushed her into a straight laying position. He ran his hands over
>> her
>> side and her chest, rubbing the little buds, like unopened roses,
>> he
>> thought. He slid his hands down the trembling frame and grasped her
>> little shorts by the waist band. Extracting a little yelp of terror
>> from the girl he pulled the shorts down, along with her panties, in
>> one
>> stroke, and discarded them on the floor.
>>
>> "Please no, please stop!" the naked girl almost screamed, trying to
>> cover herself with her hands, curling up again. Dimitri quickly
>> grabbed
>> her arms and pushed them down, pinning her flat on her back on the
>> bed.
>> He then forced her legs apart with his body and lay out on top of
>> her.
>> She trembled and shook under him, her little convulsions driving
>> him to
>> deeper levels of passion. The time for words was over.
>>
>> He felt her little body under him. Her warm, small frame so
>> helpless
>> yet so fresh and perfectly toned. Her whole body shuddered as
>> though
>> she were containing some convulsive sobs. Dimitri frantically
>> began
>> kissing her face, her neck her chests, his hands running along her
>> side. He moved lower, feeling her thighs and legs, back up to her
>> sides
>> and chest, those buds of breasts to be, a little flesh so perfectly
>> silky!
>>
>> Dimitri had longed dreamed of this moment; he had dreamt of making
>> his
>> first time with a preteen girl last. He had imagined that she would
>> suck him, and that he would eat her, then he would screw her brains
>> out. But now, with the trembling nine year old naked beneath him,
>> her
>> legs spread by his lower body, her petite little arms held firmly
>> by
>> his hands, he found he had very little control.
>>
>> Dimitri quickly, panting heavily now his organ dripping pre cum,
>> ran
>> one hand down Ksenia's front, and slipped between her legs. He
>> fondled her a bit, causing the girl to squirm and writhe under him.
>> She
>> was wet too, aroused at such a tender age. Suddenly he couldn't
>> wait.
>> He couldn't take it slow. He had to have her.
>>
>> He slid down a bit, sitting up slightly on his knees. He put his
>> left
>> hand firmly on the girl's chest, one of her little nipples between
>> his thumb and forefinger, and took hold of his member with his
>> right
>> hand. He leaned forward, aiming at the tight little hairless bulge
>> of
>> flesh, pushing her legs apart with his knees, Dimitri pushed hard
>> on
>> Ksenia.
>>
>> The first attempt slid up her crotch, Ksenia was growing more
>> frantic,
>> almost thrashing about. Dimitri held himself for the next shove,
>> this
>> time bending low over the girl and sliding his whole body forward.
>> His
>> thick man-meat struck the tight folds of the virgin child's
>> entrance,
>> and penetrated. Dimitri groaned, he felt as though he was shoving
>> his
>> cock into a tightly squeezed fist.
>>
>> Ksenia suddenly grew still. Her eyes bulged and her mouth gaped
>> open.
>> She breathed in a huge gulp of air, as though by expanding her
>> lungs
>> she could somehow make room for the intrusion below. She lifted her
>> head off the make shift mattress, and tried to see where the
>> intrusion
>> into her tiny body had been made, But Dimitri covered her, his head
>> almost on her shoulder.
>>
>> O my god, o my god, o my god, kept screaming through Dimitri's
>> brain.
>> He gritted his teeth and pushed forward, waves of spasms running
>> through his body. The tiny vagina entrance held his cock so tight
>> he
>> felt like curling up around her, his arms and legs twisting
>> involuntarily. He felt the virgin barrier to his progress. He
>> quickly
>> slid both hands under the child's shoulders, and holding her by the
>> shoulders, his hands behind her, himself prone on top of her,
>> Dimitri
>> pulled her down and slid heavily forward and in.
>>
>> Ksenia screamed and began to cry. Dimitri rolled his head in
>> ecstasy,
>> groaning, gritting his teeth and gasping for air. The child was
>> sobbing, she was pushing up on him but he hardly noticed. Dimitri
>> pulled out as far as he dare and rammed in, grinding into her
>> preteen
>> womb, their pelvic bones meeting. With every thrust forward he
>> pulled
>> on the child; she raised her head, eyes spreading wide, mouth
>> gasping
>> for air every time Dimitri slid into her.
>>
>> The sensation of the lithe nine year old pinned beneath him,
>> impaled on
>> his cock, her tighter than explainable vagina clamping
>> spasmodically on
>> his cock, her smooth, flawless flesh pressed against his own hairy
>> chest, her hands grasping him, her legs thrashing about him, her
>> little
>> body rising and falling in his arms with every stroke drove Dimitri
>> to
>> climax far too quickly. Slamming himself deep into her he suddenly
>> groaned and gasped through puckered lips as his whole body tensed
>> and
>> relaxed, ejaculating stream after stream of semen into the tiny
>> womb.
>>
>> Ksenia's vagina clenched and relaxed, clenched and relaxed around
>> Dimitri's cock, milking it of his semen. He panted, licking her
>> face
>> and ears, running his hands through her hair and along her body.
>> Ksenia
>> panted and cried, her little body shaking under the weight of her
>> first
>> man.
>>
>> Sergey stood in the kitchen, looking at the two coupled obscenely
>> on
>> the bed, his senses befuddled by the alcohol. His daughter was a
>> woman.
>> He was hard and toyed with his pant zipper.
>>
>> Two men were passing the little house on the outskirts of town.
>> They
>> were dressed in fishing gear, with tall rubber boots and mosquito
>> nets,
>> fishing tackle and poles slung over their shoulders. The sounds of
>> a
>> young girl's sobs and cries of pain came muffled from the cabin.
>> "Old drunk Sergey beaten' the kid again," said one, turning his
>> head slightly towards the cabin.
>> "Some one should report him." Said the other, glancing at the
>> cabin, and then to his friend.
>> "Maybe." Said the first. "I have enough problems of my own
>> though, you know?" The topic changed to other unimportant things,
>> other things, and other lives. The two walked down the steep bank
>> and
>> up the river. They passed a little girl who was playing with a toy
>> boat. She said hello politely and they returned the favor. The two
>> walked on down the river. Natasha swatted flies and played for a
>> few
>> more minutes. Ksenia hadn't come; Natasha couldn't wait for her
>> friend any longer, she had a mother at home who would be waiting
>> for
>> her. She had to get home to other things.
>>
>>
>> _____________________
>>
>> Love? Hate? Criticise? Share? Write me at: bigguy2005 @ mail.ru
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