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From: "Nikki@P.U."
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.incest
Subject: Maiding for a Child Prostitute (Mg,cons, extreme-pedo)
Date: Mon, 30 Aug 2004 16:24:21 -0700
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Maiding for a Child Prostitute (Mg,cons, extreme-pedo)
I wanted to be sure. I felt jelly in my tummy and I thought she must do
too. But she just sat there, this gorgeous little moppet: sun blonde with
Shirley Temple curls, turned up button nose, puffy pink lips, and a clear
porcelain skin that glowed with vigour. She could have been any seven
year-old be driven by her mum. Except I wasn't her mum ? I thought about
that for a moment: if Ginny had pimped her, and I was taking her to see the
punter, then I must be her maid!
I wanted to be sure that that was OK. I wanted Hannah to make it OK for
me. To let me know that she didn't mind having sex with strange grown up
guys prepared to pay through-the-nose for a "young juicy piece of cunt"
(Ginny's words ? I hated it when she talked like that to the punter on the
phone, trying to get a deal). But I didn't have to words to casually ask,
and for all the concern on Hannah's face, I might have been taking her to
Burger King or something. And so we all drove along together: me, her, the
butterflies in my tummy, the map and the gun.
I guess the gun was a clue that this wasn't just a parcel delivery. We
really don't do guns in England ? unless you're Black and are worried that
people won't show you the right levels of 'respect'. Ginny had to jab it
into my hand twice before I took it. "What's this for?" I asked stupidly.
She rolled her eyes. "Grow up Emily. There's some weird shit out their.
You're just this girl. You need some metal to protect yourself, protect
our investment. And it's fucking loaded, so try not to shoot your foot
off".
'Investment'. Is there a more callous word for a mum to use of her
daughter?
The butterflies stomped around my tummy in great big Wellington boots as
we seemed to be driving into the Third World: from low rent to no rent.
A broken down council house, unpainted, unkempt, with a yard decorated
by rusted cars from the 70s. The kind of place where the only working
machines are the deep fat fryer and the telly. I patted the gun in my
purse, and it suddenly felt good.
An old man, dirty, unshaved, grunted at me from his front door.
I didn't catch what he said. I still don't have an ear for the thicker
accents. "I beg your pardon" I said, like some prim English school
mistress with something rather large stuck up her bum.
"I sayyyyyed, do yah wanna come in?"
"Oh, no thank you" I chippered, as if he'd just offered me biscuits with
my cup of tea, instead of inviting me to witness a pedo rape. "I'll be
fine out here." I'd like to say I was confident that if Hannah was in any
trouble, I'd of heard it. But really, I didn't want to be too close to the
'act'.
"Suit yourself" he said (probably). He played the wad of money into my
out stretched hand. I clumsily counted it and nodded. He placed a guiding
hand onto Hannah's tiny shoulders and led her into the gloom of the house.
I felt pretty dirty, but it was a lot of money for an afternoon's drive
out. I wondered, with so much poverty, where the fuck did the money come
from?
I went back and sat in the car and took out my book. But after I'd read
the same paragraph ten times, I suddenly realised: Fuck! Yes, I did want
to go in. I wanted to watch. What was I thinking of. Oh yeah ? shy.
Stupid bitch!
My mobile beeped at me. The thirty minutes were up. Gingerly I went
inside, my eyes straining in the gloom, my nose up-turned from the stick,
my ear guiding me by muffled grunts getting loader.
I entered into the weedy light of the bedroom. Hannah, naked, lay on
cheap purple sheets, her right hand raised up, tightly gripping the old
man's cock as she roughly jacked it off above her head. The guy, kneeling
above her, knees either side of her small shoulders, turned and looked at
me with watery eyes, and then back to peering down at the angel faced child
whore stroking his cock oh so hard.
She reached up with her left hand, and cupped his low-slung draggling
balls. He groaned at the ceiling in pleasure. She craned her neck and
reached up with puckered lips to just reach the tip of his purple cock.
She wanked him into her mouth, mangling his balls. She knew how to
pleasure a guy. She reached up higher with her left hand, and with sharp
nailed small fingers, probed his arsehole.
He blew his cum like a shotgun volley, suddenly, violently, splattering
Hannah's seven year-old face, neck and chest.
Cum puddles stained the sheets either side of her head dark purple.
Hannah looked shocked from the splattering, but reached up to clean the fat
head of his cock with her mouth like a pro.
I picked up her dress, socks, shoes and thong and helped her dress
quickly. We drove off with this tidal wave of relief washing through me.
A mile down the road, Hannah shrieked to stop the car! She jumped out,
and threw up.
I gave her a sip of my water bottle. In my haste to get away, I hadn't
even bothered to clean her up properly. I took a tissue and wiped the cold
cum off her off her forehead, out from her wet eye lashes, off the cheeks
and chin, and dried her wet neck.
A burger and a large milkshake later, we where driving back home again.
"Does that always happen?" I finally ventured, "Does it usually make you
sick?"
"Oh no, not usually"
"Well what was wrong today, was he nasty to you? Did he make you do
things you didn't want to?"
"No no, I just gave him the basic full service. No, he was OK. A bit
funny, you know." She pulled a weird face at me that made us laugh. "No,
he was just a bit ..." she pinched her fingers over her nose to show how
stinky the old man had been.
The words "full service" played on my mind for a bit. It was surreal
hearing prostitute words come out of a seven-year-olds mouth with the same
ordinariness of, say, 'pencil case and ruler'.
"Could we stop again, I need the bathroom"
There didn't seem to be a bathroom very handy. "We'd better pull off
the road; I could do with a pee too".
We crouched behind the car, on the side of the road. It wasn't busy,
but every time you thought no one was coming, someone would.
Hannah pulled her dress up to her waist and her tiny thong to below her
knees. The soft cushions of her small pussy showed no sign of any earlier
large-scale male member intrusion, just the semi-hidden slice of vulnerable
bright red. I pulled my jeans round and down my bum, and pushed down to my
ankles. Hannah raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, as she looked slyly at
my freshly shaven bald pussy, and the lack of any panties.
She focused on the ground twelve inches in front of her, and proceeded
to pee jet of nearly white pee into dirt, which bubbled into a dirty mess
as steam lazily wisped into the still afternoon air. I stretched out an
arm with a bunched up tissue to dab delicate little cunt clean. But as I
did a spurt of pee shot out, and splashed over my hand and wrist.
"Ooooops" the little girl gasped and giggled.
Ooops indeed. I smiled at her and cancelled the involuntary move of my
hand to my mouth, forcing myself to wipe my hand clean. I know it was a ?
pardon the pun ? golden opportunity. But I didn't want to shame myself in
front of her. I didn't want her to think I was just another pedo sex
monster. I wanted her to do it with me because she liked me, not for money
or because I was responsible for her.
She let me wipe her pussy clean. I found it quite hard to pee after
that. My pussy was too twitchy. I leant back with my hands on the ground
behind me. Hannah half stood to peek over the bonnet of car and assured me
no one was coming. A fucking great big fountain of pee gushed out in a
thundering arch that landed seven or eight feet away into a bush whose
leaves rattled with the downpour.
"Wow, you can pee!" Hannah trilled.
We drove on. She lay down; head on my thigh, and dozed, as home
beckoned in the failing light.
I parked round the back as usual, I didn't want to be seen to much with
the girl.
Ginny was watching telly, feet up on the coffee table, bottle of beer in
hand. "So it was OK?"
"Well I didn't have to shoot anybody" I smiled, handing over the money,
less my commission.
"So she take proper care of you, Hannah-honey?" Ginny quizzed, half
jokingly.
"She's OK" the little girl smiled back. "Oh, and she can pee an awful
long way" she added.
"Can she now" Ginny looked at me, questioningly. I blushed a little.
"So it's still me you love the most" Ginny declared, arms outstretched.
The little girl bounced off the sofa and ran into her mummy's arms, pushing
her face into Ginny's welcoming boobs as they hugged.
I excused myself and went back to my car. It was dark.In the silence I
slipped my hand down under the waist band of my skirt, down under the waist
band of my knickers.
I touched myself. Closing my eyes I saw Hannah pissing. Pissing on me.
Her cum stained face smiling down at me, as she pissed over my pussy as I
played with myself. I came easily, quickly, dirtily.
I toyed with going back and asking Ginny if I could have a go with her
little Hannah. Offer her the money I'd taken in commission. But then I
thought that was stupid. There'd be other times.