Path: not-for-mail
From: "Nikki@P.U."
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.incest
Subject: Kiddie Treatment (Mg,cons, extreme-pedo)
Date: Fri, 10 Sep 2004 18:55:54 -0700
Organization: Posted via Supernews, http://www.supernews.com
Message-ID: <10k4mp6anlncn51@corp.supernews.com>
Reply-To: <>
User-Agent: Mozilla/5.0 (Windows; U; Windows NT 5.1; en-US; rv:1.7.2) Gecko/20040804 Netscape/7.2 (ax)
X-Accept-Language: en-us, en
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format="flowed"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
X-Complaints-To: abuse@supernews.com
Lines: 340
===================
Kiddie Treatment (Mg,cons, extreme-pedo)
Author Unknown
I was home from college when I got a call from my chum, Barry. "You gotta
help me," he begged. "I don't know what to do!"
"Calm down," I told him. "What's the problem?"
"You wouldn't believe me," he said. "Come over and I'll tell you."
I went over to Barry's house. His parents were out of town. He met me at
the door and hustled me into his room, shutting the door.
"What's the big deal?" I complained. "How come we can't sit downstairs and
talk?"
"My kid sister," he said, nervously. "I don't want her interrupting us."
His sister was named Meryl; she was about eight. I remembered a cute blonde
with china-blue eyes and long hair. A little heartbreaker; jailbait even at
eight.
"All right, let's have it," I said to him, sitting on the bed. He took a
seat at his desk chair, swinging it around to face me.
"OK. But look. This is gonna sound incredible. Try to withhold judgement
until I finish." He had a look of pleading in his eyes; I said, "Sure, OK."
"You know my major," he began.
"Yeah; 'Developmental Psych' or some such," I replied.
"Or some such. Well, I got a job as a research assistant with Professor
Hillman; one of the biggest names in the field. It was a real plum." He
chuckled, as if laughing at himself for his gullibility.
"Well, I worked for the good professor for almost a year. Then I found
out...by accident..."
"What?"
"The research program was supposed to be about 'mental states'. We were
using sophisticated instruments and computers to map the patterns of brain
activity in volunteers." He laughed again. "Volunteers..."
"Come on, Barry." I was getting a bit tired of his melodramatics.
"All right. The volunteers were children. Mostly girls, from about seven
through 13. They paid the parents well; they had plenty of volunteers. The
prof explained that girls were more compatible with the equipment. And I
bought it!...Anyway, there was a simple headpiece, with a wire bundle
coming out of it, that fed into the computers. The sensors on the headpiece
were new technology. Superconducting SQUIDs, I think. And there was a
screen, that displayed patterns for the subject to watch. It was a passive
set-up; the idea was that the kid watched the patterns and we measured the
brain activity. The screen was set up in a 'test cell'; just a darkened
cubicle with soundproofing.
"Everything was going OK. I was the junior lab assistant; there was a grad
student named Ken who pretty much ran the lab. He was an arrogant bastard.
Didn't much like him, even then. One night I went to the lab because I'd
forgotten some notes. It was supposed to be closed. When I went in, I saw
Ken. He had powered up the system; I could see that he had a subject in the
test cell. From where I stood, I could see it was a young girl, about
Meryl's age; blond, too. I was puzzled. At that moment, the 'experiment'
seemed to end; the screen went blank and Ken went toward the cell. He led
the girl from the cell.
"There was something wrong; the kid moved like she was sleepwalking. And I
could see that she wasn't wearing any clothes! Or rather, she was wearing
only a tiny pair of panties.
"I started to go over to the other side of the lab, to see what was going
on. Just then the phone rang in the back office; Ken got up and left her
standing there, just staring blankly ahead. I went over to her. The moment
she saw me, she fell to her knees, and said 'Master, how may I serve you?'
"It was clear that she was in some sort of trance; she was there on her
knees, waiting for an order or command."
Barry paused and took a breath. "I gotta tell you, Joe: I stood there, with
that beautiful little girl kneeling before me, and had a raging hard-on.
The thought of an obedient little nymphet, ready to obey any order I might
give her, had me hard as iron in no time."
"What did you do?"
"I told her to stand up, and she did. She faced me, with a lovely smile on
her face, and begged me to command her, to use her. I was standing there,
stunned, when Ken came back."
"Jesus. What happened?"
"He just grinned, like it was no big deal. He said something like, 'Well,
you were bound to find out sooner or later," and told me to have a seat. I
was too overwhelmed to do anything else; I sat down at one of the consoles.
"While the half-naked girl stood there, he told me what he'd been up to.
'Little Jenny here, she's one of our more advanced subjects,' he said.
'She'll do just about anything you tell her; all you need to do is give the
right keyword. Wanna see her do tricks?'
"I stammered something; I don't remember what I said.
"He spoke to the girl, said a certain word. The word was simple: XANADU. I
learned later that they used this code word with every subject. Whenever
one of the programmed kids heard this word, spoken by a man, she'd go into
what Ken called 'slave mode'. If she heard it from a woman, or another kid,
it'd have no effect. Afterward, when the subject was out of 'slave mode',
she had no memory of anything that happened during the trance.
When she heard that word, she turned to him and asked how she could serve
him.
"'Jenny, go over there and sit on the man's lap,' he ordered. In no time,
the panty-clad little girl was sitting in my lap with her arms around my
neck. My rod was already hard, and she squirmed around on it, rubbing those
silky panties on my erection. Then he told her to 'cuddle', and before I
knew it, she was kissing me, pushing her little tongue into my mouth!
"In no time, I was too far gone to think about what was happening. My hands
were all over her, and she cooed and sighed when I touched her thighs or
crotch. Jesus, just remembering it is getting me hot. Joe, she seemed to
really enjoy what we were doing; there was no hesitation, no sign of
coercion. I had a lapful of willing, precocious, seductive little girl, who
was doing her very best to get me to fuck her. After a while, I realized
her hands had been busy; she'd managed to get my belt open and my zipper
down, and soon her soft little hands were exploring my dick! I couldn't
believe how good it felt! In seconds, it seemed, she brought me off. I
covered her little hands with my come. Then she deliberately raised her
hand to her mouth and licked my sperm up!
"'They're programmed to find sperm delicious; the best thing they ever
tasted,' Ken remarked. 'They'll do almost anything to get some of it.'"
"Then Ken said something to her, and she ran to get cleaned up. 'She's
pretty good, huh?' he said. 'We've been taking a lot of trouble to get her
program right.'
"I was sitting there, my cock shrinking, in total confusion. I started to
say something. Just then, the little slave returned with a wet cloth. She
cleaned me up, smiling all the time, then turned to Ken and curtseyed. 'May
I serve you further, Master?' she asked.
"'Jenny, go put on your outside clothes; then come back here.' She ran to
the side of the lab and got dressed, then ran back to him. 'On three,
Jenny, you will forget this session. We had a normal session, just as
always. What are your instructions?'
"'I will replay my program when I go to sleep; with each repetition it will
become deeper and more compelling,' she said, in a soft monotone. 'I must
obey all the commands and suggestions; to disobey is to die. I will return
here for my next session, more obedient than ever.'
"'Good. Recite, please.'
"She stood there, folded her arms behind her and recited a little catechism
in a sort of sing-song voice: 'I am a little girl, born to serve my
Masters. I live only to obey. My purpose is my Masters' pleasure; my body
is my Masters' property, my mind is my Masters' to command. I am pleasure;
I am obedience; I will serve my Master for the rest of my life.' She gave
another little curtsey, and fell silent.
"He counted to three, and she seemed to awaken. With a sunny smile, she
said, 'Thanks, Mr. Evans!' then turned and ran out of the lab.
"Ken turned to me. 'Well, I expect you have questions,' he said."
"I'll bet!" I exclaimed.
"Yeah. It turned out that the Prof and Ken had a 'hidden agenda'. The story
of the research was phony; they were working on mind control. And they'd
had a breakthrough. It wasn't perfect; it worked best on children, and on
girls best of all. Something about 'impedence matching'. Anyhow, it was
fine with them--it turned out they were both pedophiles! They'd been using
the system to program every girl who volunteered. By the time I found out,
they had altered the minds of several hundred girls. They marked them,
too."
"Marked?"
"Yah. Each girl wore a gold ankle bracelet, with a data block on it. Ken
told me they'd do almost anything to avoid having it removed. They were
planning to put a tatoo on the girls as well. Part of their programming
made the kids start to wear really sexy clothes: like miniskirts and little
see-through sundresses. Each girl began collecting a huge wardrobe of sexy
lingerie, too."
"Wow. What'd you do?"
"I was going to the Dean. I told Ken. The next night, while I was preparing
my evidence to take to the Dean, I returned to my apartment and found three
little girls, dressed only in baby-doll nighties, waiting for me."
"What?"
"Ken had sent them. They offered themselves to me, utterly without shame or
guilt. As far as they were concerned, I was simply another Master, to be
served and obeyed. Their names were Wendy, Carla, and Mindy. The oldest was
only twelve. Wendy--the asian one--just came up to me and knelt in front of
me. 'Please, Master, let me suck your cock,' she begged."
"And?"
Barry put his head in his hands. "I took them. I couldn't help myself--
they were so lovely...and I hadn't had sex for months. Ken knew I would. He
hooked me. Just like a drug. Once I'd experienced those submissive little
nymphets, I had to have more. I...I...joined them..."
"You helped them?"
"Yeah; I sure did."
"Christ."
"Well, one day I went to the lab and it was empty. The prof and Ken had
vanished; all the evidence was gone. I told myself I'd be a fool to go to
the Dean now; after all, there had been no complaints. And I was an
accomplice! If I squealed, I'd take the rap. A lovely trap."
"Wow. But why tell me?"
"I'll show you."
He led me out into the hall, into the family room where his lovely
eight-year-old sister was watching TV. She was lying on the sofa, on her
belly, her face toward the TV and away from us. She was wearing a pink
baby-doll nightie, with matching panties, which were clearly visible. Her
legs were partially spread, revealing her lovely bottom and crotch. "Look,"
he whispered, pointing. I could see a thin gold bracelet around her right
ankle. It caught the light as she lazily dangled the leg in the air.
He pulled me back into the hall.
"You're not serious!"
"Serious is right. I tested her. She's programmed. She fell to her knees
and gave the stock response, just like the others," he told me. "And see
how she's dressed? They've had their 'modesty' inhibition reduced; it's
unconcious, but she doesn't care as much any more about modesty. Looser,
you know? She'll give you a real show, without knowing that she's doing it.
I've noticed that she has trouble keeping her knees together, like proper
little girls are always taught to do."
"Good God. Now what?"
"You've gotta help me, Joe. You gotta. I....I....know if I'm left alone
with her, it's only a matter of time before I say the word to her
again...and use her, just like I used the others..."
"Jesus. I don't know what to do!"
"It's not just Meryl. I've been noticing. All over town, I'm seeing little
girls in really sexy outfits. Skirts too short. Silky panties under those
skirts. Practically transparent tops. At the mall; I saw a group of three
of them, dressed in tiny skirts, shopping for more sexy clothes. They were
laughing and giggling, like what they were doing was natural and right. I
saw one in an ultra-mini, candystriped, with a silken teddy underneath. The
skirt was a wraparound, and it kept flipping open. She didn't seem to care.
Jesus, Joe; I've seen their bracelets. And I know the word that'll make any
of them a helpless little sex toy."
He was practically weeping. The strain was clearly too much for him.
"It's them. They're here. Somehow they got Meryl; they're getting to
hundreds--maybe thousands of little girls. And I don't know if I can do
anything to stop them; I'm addicted to the little slaves! My sister, Joe!
If I don't get out of here, I'm gonna fuck my eight-year-old sister!"
I smiled at him. "Barry, do you remember my major?"
"What? Electrical Engineering, wasn't it?"
"Yeah; with a minor in Cognitive Science," I told him. "Your friend Ken and
the Professor had to have help, you know. All that fancy high-tech
equipment. They needed engineering support," I said.
"I guess so. What's your point?"
I cracked open the door to the family room. "Hey, Meryl," I called out. The
lovely young girl sat up and looked at us, her innocent blue eyes
questioning. "What? I wanna watch this," she said. She started to look back
at the TV. "XANADU," I said, in a loud voice. Her expression changed; her
face became blank. With a fluid motion, she was up from the sofa. She ran
to kneel before me, all thoughts of the TV program forgotten.
"How may I serve you, Master?" she said, meekly.
"Why don't you begin by giving your brother a nice blow job?"
"Oh, yes, Master!"
And before my pal had fully realized what was happening, his little sister
had his pants open and was happily licking and sucking his cock. Barry
stood, in shock, looking down at her as she slurped him to hardness.
"No...no...this is wrong..." he mumbled. But soon his protest turned to
groans, as Meryl's tongue worked its magic.
"We made sure we had Meryl," I told him, as his hips thrust his rod into
her throat. "We knew you'd come home for summer break. We've made great
progress, and I'm sure you'll be impressed. Professor Hillman found a way
to make the process work on anyone--adults, males, females, anybody. And I
got the device to fit in a miniature package so it is quite portable. We're
programming parents now; teachers, too.
"In fact, your parents are being programmed this very moment, so they will
be quite cooperative in your continued use of Meryl. And if you want, you
can add any number of willing nymphets to your harem--no need to limit
yourself to only Meryl, although she IS delightful. She served me for
several days before you arrived. I'll miss her, but my personal harem is
now about twenty young girls, so I can afford to let you have her," I told
him.
"Christ! You bastards!" he cursed as he pumped his jism down his sister's
throat.
"We could have programmed YOU, of course," I remarked, as he shuddered to
the end of his climax. "But Professor Hillman has a soft spot for you--and
he wanted your voluntary cooperation."
"Did I please you, Master?" Meryl asked coyly, still kneeling, as she
stroked and kissed his softening rod. "How may I serve you further?"
"Well, I'll leave you two alone," I told him. "I'm sure you'll find
something for her to do. Your parents will be back in the morning, and
you'll find that they are quite delighted with Meryl's new life as your
first sex slave. Have fun with her; she's a real honey. You ought to see
the wardrobe she's got; be sure to have her put on a little fashion show
for you. Oh, yeah: you ought to have her invite her little friends over for
a slumber party. They've all been programmed; you will find it very
pleasant, I assure you. Ken will contact you in a couple of days; we need
your help. We're kinda overloaded, processing volume now. We're in the
schools, Barry. Well, I've gotta get back; my girls get cross if I'm gone
too long."