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Date: Mon, 19 Jul 2004 01:42:03 +0000
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Junior Porn Star 1 (mf, incest, cons, pedo, preg?)
AUTHOR ?
Chapter 1:
I was detached to one of the former Soviet Republics, oh it must have over
ten years ago now. It had just gained its independence from the Soviet Union,
and now needed people to teach the new country what democracy and capitalism
was all about.
I had been working for the government, and when the opportunity came to travel,
I jumped on it. I had not traveled much in my youth, and here was a perfect
opportunity see the world, and maybe do some good in the post-cold war years.
I was to be deployed there for three months. I was about half way through
my stay when the novelty of it began to ware off. I had never been to a place
that had so much cold rain and dark skies. The country was a mess. Food was
rotting on the shelves because no one could afford it. The infrastructure
was worn out and dilapidated. People, who never understood that capitalism
was hard work, sunk family fortunes into businesses that failed in a matter
of months. Don't get me wrong, the people had spirit! People tried hard,
but it was like giving a ten-dollar bill to a six year old to buy clothes
at the mall, and they spent it all at the first candy store they saw. But
unlike children who could always go back to their parents for more money
(and a stern talking to) to get the things they needed, they didn't have
anything else to fall back on. No government hand outs (the government didn't
have any money), no charitable organizations, nothing.
The only industry that seemed to be successful was the sex industry. There
were hoards of prostitutes. Adult bookstores, porn movie houses, brothels,
all seemed to have a booming business. But if you wanted any of the staples
of life: bread, vegetables, beef; you had to go through the black market
to find it in fresh, non-rotting form. As such, organized crime flourished
in this country's cities.
One good thing though was the fact that the green back dollar went a long
way. You could get anything you wanted, and always the best of everything,
if you had American money. And it was cheap. Twenty dollars could get you
a limo, a sixteen-year-old girl for the whole night, and a seven-course meal
for both of you. If you were so inclined. I was never so inclined however.
I just went to the directorate I was detached to, worked hard on helping
these people, went to diner, and went back to my hotel room.
It seemed so long since I had been home. I missed my girlfriend, Brenda.
She was petite and youthful looking. She stood five feet four inches tall,
one hundred pounds, long brown hair, a small firm rear-end, and small perky
breasts. The night before I left to go there, we made love all night. She
felt so good in my arms. Her kisses were sweet, her touch, tender. God I
was missing her! The last week or so, all I seemed to do was pine over her
in my hotel room. The thought of that last night made me hornier and hornier.
I had to get laid. I just had to get laid!
Friday started just as any other Friday did. It was cold and overcast. I
hailed a taxi and went to the directorate. I worked on re-writing their Constitution.
Then I went to my usual restaurant, one of the few that served good hot meals.
Since the restaurant is not far from my hotel I decided to walk home. It
had been raining all afternoon (no surprise there), a cold bitter rain that
cut through you like a knife. But by the time diner was over it had stopped
raining. The wind was still bitingly cold, but I needed the fresh air.
As I was walking back to my room, lost in my thoughts of Brenda, my sexual
urges began to surface. I thought about picking up one of the many ladies
of the evening I encountered on my trek. But none of them looked the part.
They were all lovely and sexy, but what I missed was Brenda; the youthful,
petite Brenda.
Just about a block away from home, I was drawn to an adult bookstore. It
was covered in white lights moving around the entranceway. Men were coming
and going, some were leaving with thin brown bags carrying their sexual literature.
Some men would quickly glance up and down the street, pull their coat lapels
up, and pull their hats down covering their face and hastily make their get-away.
Having no ties to anyone in this town, no one to be accountable to, I just
meandered my way into the store.
It was brightly lit. Magazine racks lined the walls, and ran down the middle
of the store. At the end of the room stood two doorways covered by thick
black curtains. Behind them were the booths showing porno movie loops for
a few tokens each, which were bought at a counter at the front of the store.
Occasionally a man or two would emerge from behind the curtain, adjust himself,
and quickly nod to the cashier as he slipped into the crowd on the street.
I strolled over to the magazine rack lining one of the walls. Rows and Rows
of porn filled the racks. I looked up at one. On the cover posed a buxomly
brunette, with large breasts and hoop rings pierced into her nipples. She
sported a black leather hat, leather vest opened to reveal her healthy breasts,
a riding crop in her right hand, long black leather Jack boots, with the
heal firmly embedded into the ass cheeks of a naked man laying flat on his
stomach grimacing in pain. I moved down the rack.
Another one showed two perfect looking blonds, in pale blue nighties. One
is standing, the other bent over with her tongue grazing the other girls
nipple. I moved on.
Finally, my eye caught a girl on a cover. She was a red head she had a very
youthful face. Her breasts were small, very small, and she had a soft light
spray of reddish brown pubic hair. "My god!" I said to my self. "She can't
be any more than fifteen!" I looked around and noticed a tall man two racks
down, who looked to be in his mid-thirties with slicked back blond hair in
a black leather overcoat, thumbing through a magazine. He didn't really look
like he was actually looking at anything in the magazine. He turned, noticed
me, smiled, and went back to his thumbing. I looked the other way, and there
was no one. "The coast is clear," I thought to myself.
I reached up for the magazine and started looking through it. It was filled
with naked young girls! I couldn't believe it. Right there, in the open!
They were all so beautiful! All so sexy! All so naked! I could feel the lust
build up inside me. I went immediately hard!
I put that one back and grabbed another. There was another girl, maybe fourteen,
eating out another teenager! Then I saw a series of pictures of a teen boy
and teen girl fucking! This was great! I was going through the magazines
like a man possessed! Picking up one, treating my eyes to a feast, and then
moving on to the next! I hadn't noticed my friend in the leather coat moving
up towards me.
I finally noticed him when I brushed up against him. He had moved right up
next to me. When we touched I said "Sorry." He nodded to me. He had another
magazine open in his hands, but was looking over at me with a smirk on his
face.
"You American?" he said, only in came out more like "You Amireekahn?"
I stopped. Looked at him, and put the magazine in my hands back on the rack,
not knowing what was going to happen.
"Yes, I'm an American."
He nodded.
"You like the leettle girls?" He said in his East European accent.
I began to stumble and fidget, not knowing where to go with this conversation.
"I was just shocked to see …" I stammered.
"Eets o.k." he said trying to reassure me. "Eests o.k., in thees country
eets o.k. to look at the young girls." He put his hand on my shoulder as
if to comfort me.
"It is?" I asked.
He nodded, "yes eets O.K., my friend." He said. "As for me, eet is not …
how you say … my cup of tea?"
I nodded to show that he got the term right.
"But I have lots of friends" he continued "that like the young girls. Me,
I prefer them to have more …" he moved is hands out and in as if to show
the outline of a woman's body "experience. Huh?" He slapped me on the back
with a big smile.
I rocked coyly back and fourth, shrugged my shoulders, and shook my head.
"So tell me, have you ever been with a leetle girl?"
I was stunned by such a bold question. I looked up at him "No!"
"But you want to, right?" he asked.
I stared blankly at him.
He put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close to him with a big smile
on his face waiting for a response. "Huh? Huh? You want to don't you? "
I just looked up at him, broke his embrace and said "Who are you?"
Realizing finally that he never introduced himself to me, and that he may
have come on too strong, he backed up and bowed slightly. "I am sorry. Please
to forgive me. My name is Viktor Popokove" he said. "I am photographer and
I also do to make …" he stumbled for the right words … um … um … how you
say?" He raised his left hand up as if he was holding a square object, and
moved his right hand next to it and made a circular motion like he was turning
a crank.
"Movies?" I said.
"Yes! Movies! I make movies!"
"What kind of movies?" I asked.
He shrugged his shoulders and looked around. "The kind that you see in places
like thees." He motioned around the store with his arms.
"Really?" I was now very interested in what he had to say.
"Come my friend" he said as he motioned me to follow him back to where the
token movies were. He pulled back the curtain in the doorway and motioned
again. "Come."
I followed him back to where the little wooden booths were. You could hear
the dropping of tokens into the movie machines. The room smelled of musty
sweat, stale cum, and alcohol. I rounded the corner and he was leaning against
the wall under a lone light. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a pack
of cigarettes. He offered me one. I had had that countries excuse for cigarettes
before, they were nasty.
"No thanks, I have my own." I pulled out a pack of Marlboros and offered
him one.
"Oooh, Amereekahn! Thank you very much!" He took the cigarette between his
thumb and forefinger, leaned forward so I could light it for him. He took
a big drag off of it, leaned back against the wall and savored the taste.
I looked at him and shrugged my shoulders as if to say "Why am I back here
with you?"
"Oh!" he snapped out of it. He looked at his cigarette and said "Amerikahn!
Very good!" as if to explain why he dazed off. He put the cigarette back
in his mouth and held onto it with his lips. He offered me his hand and said
"What is your name my friend?"
"Bill" I replied.
"Beel?" he asked.
"Bill"
"Bile?"
"No, Bill" I replied slowly.
"Beel" he replied.
"Close enough." I said.
Then he reached inside his coat pocket and rummaged around for a while, then
finally retrieved a 4x6 photograph.
He handed it to me. It was a studio photo of a cute blond girl who looked
to be about thirteen years old. Of course her shoulder length hair was done
up nicely. She had perfect eye shadow, liner and lipstick on. She had red
plastic earrings in her ears. She was sitting on the floor. She had on a
white sweater, blue jeans, white sox and white tennis shoes. Her arms were
wrapped around her knees, which were pulled up to her chest. Her face, resting
on her knees, looked into the camera's eye. She had a cute, sexy smile on
her face.
Viktor pointed at the picture in my hand. "What do you think my friend?"
he said.
"Cute. Very Cute." I said.
"Her name is Sveta. She is one of my models."
I nodded.
"I am going to shoot her tomorrow."
"What!" I was confused.
Victor looked at me and couldn't understand the shocked look on my face.
Then it dawned on him.
"Shoot her." He said, "Like in a movie." Then he brought his hands up again
to mimic a movie camera.
"Oh!" I said in relief.
"Shoot her as in film her, not shoot her like with a gun, my friend!" He
started laughing. Then he pointed is thumb straight up, and forefinger straight
out like a gun, "No, no, my friend, not 'Bang, Bang', Feelm her" he emphasized.
"No bang, bang, no."
"And why are you telling me this?" I asked.
He took another drag off of his cigarette and rocked his head back and forth.
"Well, I need a man like you for this feelm. I need someone who will be …
enthusiastic about being with my leetle Sveta. She has never done any think
like this before. She is a version."
"A virgin?"
"Yes, yes, a virgin" (only he strung out the 'virgin' to be sure he pronounced
correctly).
"Don't you already have a man for this?"
"Yes, yes, but he is unreliable, and not very patient. He wants the girls
to know 'exactly' what to do. He is lazy and doesn't want to teach."
"Well, what 'exactly' is it that you want me to do?" I asked him.
He shrugged his shoulders and rocked his head back and forth "You like the
leetle girls don't you?"
I looked down at my feet and shrugged my shoulders.
"She is pretty, yes?"
"Yes, she is very pretty." I said.
"Wouldn't you like to have her?"
Considering the thought I said, "… well … yeah … I … guess …"
"You guess!" His voice was rising.
I held my hands up and motioned him to clam down. He shook his head in acknowledgment
that he was too loud. He bent down towards me and whispered. "You guess!
What is there to guess about? She is one hundred percent cutie-pie, no?"
I shook my head in agreement.
He pointed at the picture in my hand hitting it with his index finger. "She
is pure Ukrainian version poosey! And just for you to have! You can … " he
took a deep breath and muttered loudly " … fuuhk her … and … be her first!
This I am offering to you."
Unsure if I was being set-up for something or, if in fact, good fortune has
landed at my doorstep, I continued to doubt this was really happening to
me.
"Well … why me? Why not someone else you have worked with before?"
"Because I am offering it to you." He said shortly.
I looked up at him, and he detected that was not a sufficient answer.
He sighed and said, "Look, you will be patient with her, yes? You will treat
her nice, yes? But you will do what nature intends for you to do to her,
yes?"
"How do you know I will?"
He slapped me on the shoulder again, and said, "Because, my friend, I am
a good character of judges."
"You mean a good judge of character, don't you?"
"Yes, yes, you are so right my friend."
"and you want me to …"
He cut in," How you say … 'break her in?'"
I resigned myself to the idea that we knew exactly what we were talking about.
Guilt began to overcome me as I realized that I was even considering doing
such a thing.
"Yes, that how you say it."
"Good, so you will do it?"
"No, I didn't say that. In fact I doubt that I will."
I was starting to feel ashamed that I even started talking to this guy.
"But I don't understand, why not, my friend. Your perfect!"
I had the urge to leave. To leave before I said or did something that I would
regret for the rest of my life.
"No, I don't thinks so …"
"Look, we are going to shoot the girl either with a man or with out. I would
prefer a man, I would prefer you."
I had to find an excuse to get the hell out of there.
"Look, I've got to go …"
Disappointed Viktor said "O.k., o.k, my friend. Just hold one second."
He reached into his pocket a pulled out a pack of matches. Then he retrieved
a pen and started to scribble something on the inside of the match cover.
He handed it to me.
"If you change your mind, this is where we are going to shoot the girl, and
the time we plan to do it. O.k.?"
Willing to say anything just to get the hell out of there I said "O.k."
I put the matchbook in my coat pocket, and left the store as fast as I could.
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