
                            Rescuing Jenny

                           by Georgie Porgie
                           12 February 1993



                         Chapter 2: Play Time

     Five minutes later we were heading to my home, Jenny laying down
in the back seat, hiding under a map.  I had to make sure no one was
watching when I let Jenny get in.   Of course I can never be sure, but
since this society has never let me have any peace of mind before, I
didn't lose any over a possible additional kidnap charge.  Fortunately
my garage is part of the house, so there we didn't have to sneak and run
and worry about my neighbors.

     I was worried about my safety, agonized over Jenny's sadness,
aroused by the memory of kissing her in the park, angry at the bastard
who could just sit and listen to her screams, relieved at having made it
safely home, puzzled over the whole situation, excited about having such
a pretty girl alone with me at home, but frustrated because everything
else was spoiling it, and hungry, all at once.  I decided to take care
of the easiest problem first.

     Jenny was easy to please, since she apparently didn't get to eat at
all at her so-called babysitter's.  He didn't serve snacks, he just let
the kids go get what they wanted when they wanted it, until everything
was gone.  And with Jenny tied up, I thought, there was that much more
for the other kids.  That may even have been what got them started.

     She said it was the first time since she lost her daddy that anyone
had let her eat ice cream.  I silently called her mother several words
that I never say in front of children.

     When we were finished, and I had rinsed and put away the bowls,
I noticed she had some ice cream smeared on her upper lip and chin.
When I told her about it, she began to wipe it off with her hand, but
I gently held her wrist.

     "There's a better way that doesn't get it all over your hand, you
know.  Here, close your eyes, and I'll clean it off for you."  Jenny
closed her eyes and tilted her face upwards.  I bent down, put my arms
around her, and began licking her face clean.  She giggled and opened
her eyes, put her arms around me, and we spent the next few minutes
hugging, giggling, kissing, and licking each other's faces.

     "There, that should be clean enough.  Oh, by the way, you never did
tell me whether you were ticklish, did you?"  After a few more minutes
that again left us breathless from laughter, we were sitting on my bed,
her in my lap facing me, in a motionless embrace.

     "I love you, Kenny" she stated, in a clear but quiet voice.  My
heart soared through the clouds, landed on the grass and did cartwheels,
and leaped back in my chest, thumping.  I remembered something Charles
Dodgson said, 'Ah, happy he who owns that tenderest joy, the heart-love
of a child.'  I knew it was true.

     "I love you too, Jenny" I replied, and hugged her tighter.  "I
don't want anyone to hurt you, ever, and if I can stop it, I will."

     "Do you want to know what else the boys do to me?" she asked.
I could tell she was verging on tears just thinking about it.

     "Not just now, Jenny, let's have some fun together first, and then
I'll listen to anything you want to say, I promise.  You can tell me all
about it later.  For now, let's play together like you said no one ever
does with you anymore, ok?"

     "Ok," she smiled meekly.

     "Has anyone ever swung you around, Jenny?  I doubt that your mother
ever did, but your daddy might have.  Has anyone ever done Ping Pongs
with you, or loop-overs?"

     "I don't think so, I don't know what you mean," she said, puzzled.

     "Well," I said, taking one of her hands in each of mine, "this is
how you do Ping Pongs.  You're already sitting in my lap facing me.
Keep your legs where they are, around my waist.  Ping!"  I lowered her
backwards until her head nearly touched the floor.  Her hair formed a
golden halo on the floor around her face, now grinning from delight.
"Pong!"  I pulled her up close to me and quickly kissed her forehead.
"Ping!"  She fell backwards.  "Pong!" I pulled her upright and kissed
her.  By now she was giggling with glee.  As she went up and down in
time to my sing-song Ping-Pong, I watched her dress go up and down in
reverse, alternately covering then revealing her panties completely,
even her belly button sometimes.  While she was down, she didn't notice
me looking admiringly at her pussy, spread apart a few inches from my
hardening cock, protected only by a thin layer of pink cloth, stretched
over her enticing mound like a layer of paint.  Oh how I wanted to get
those panties off of her.  But never, NEVER, would I use force against
her or do anything with her she didn't enjoy.

     "This is fun!" she sang.

     "I like it too," I told her.  "Would you like me to set up my
camera and take some pictures of us playing together?"  She agreed, and
I set it up on a tripod as quickly as I could, setting a remote release
switch under my foot by the bed.  "Ready to play ping pong?" I asked.

     She climbed back onto my lap, and as she did I adjusted her dress
so it wouldn't get caught in back and would fall completely when she
swung downward.  This time, she swung up and down in time to the flash
of the camera and the beat of the film winder.  I was glad I had spare
rolls of film handy, because I had to reload after only twelve shots.
I was getting a little hot anyway, and not from the play.

     "This time you can do some loop-overs.  I'll show you how they're
done.  It's a little tricky, but I'll make sure you don't get hurt.  You
lean half-way back like you're doing ping-pongs, then you raise your
legs up, curl your back, roll off my lap and land with your feet on the
floor.  I keep ahold of your hands to steady you and pull you up at the
end of the loop.  Then you get back on my lap and do it again.  Ready?"

     Jenny was ready, willing, and able, and loved every second of it.
I snapped off another roll of film, sometimes just after her dress had
fallen to her shoulders on the way up, when her legs were still spread
with her pussy inches from my face, and sometimes after she landed, her
bottom toward the camera, her dress draped over her head, her arms held
behind her so she couldn't straighten until I let her up.  She had one
of the sexiest bodies I had ever seen, with the loveliest skin tone,
front and back, a smooth creamy pale pink, with tiny pink breasts.

     My cock was hard and stiff, and I kept imagining pulling her
panties off her.  There was nothing stopping me from doing everything
I wanted to do to her, except for my own conscience, as unyeilding as
a brick wall.  There was no chance of me ever hurting her.  Too bad her
mother couldn't say that.

     After the next film reload she let me swing her around.  At first
I swung her by her hands, which we both enjoyed.  Then I had her sit on
the bed and raise her feet.  I took a firm grip on her ankles, lifted
her off the bed, and swung her upside down in front of the camera.

     "Reach for the floor!" I suggested.  "See if you can touch the
floor with both hands at once."  I held her just low enough that she
could, which was just low enough that the hemline of her dress swept
the floor as well.  Her dress had fallen far enough to reveal most of
her neck and half of her upper arms and of course everything else not
covered by her panties.  I held her legs apart and swung her side to
side, singing "Swing, swing!  Swing, swing!"  The camera flashed almost
as fast as it could wind the film.  I turned her around and let the
camera get a rear view while I studied her pussy, chancing the merest
brush of her panties on my nose.  When I ran out of film I swung her
back up on the bed, and she asked me to do it again, as she pulled her
dress back down around herself out of habit.

     "Let me rest a bit first.  You're a big girl, and even little girls
get fairly heavy after a while, did you know that, Jenny?"  I knew every
little girl likes to be called a big girl.  "My heart is beating like
thunder."  And not just from the exercise, I thought.

     "Can I listen to it, Daddy?" she piped up.

     "Sure," I chuckled, and unbuttoned my shirt and bared a place on
my chest for her to put her ear.  It tickled a bit at first, but I
didn't want to start that again, so I put my arms around her, caressing
her shoulders and back and stroking her hair as she listened to my
heartbeat.  Then it dawned on me:  she had called me "Daddy".  By
mistake, surely, so I let it pass.

     "Now can I tell you the things the boys at Mr. Carter's have done
to me?" she pleaded.  I had brought her here mostly because she needed
someone who would listen to her tell about this.  We had had enough fun
to last through the worst she could tell me, I hoped, so I carried her
gently to the den and tossed her high in the air, onto the couch I call
my "SuperSoft".  She responded with a squeal, an instant of fright, then
in sheer delight as she flumphed into the cushions.

     "Toss me again, please, Daddy?"

     I knelt beside her and took her hand.  "Actually, Jenny, I'm not
your daddy, although I wish I was.  I'm ready to listen to anything you
want to tell me, unless you really want to play a bit more."

     "Oh, Kenny, did I call you Daddy?  I guess I wish you really were."

     I sighed.  "Jenny, I have something else to tell you, too.  My name
isn't really Kenny.  It's Irving.  I hate that name, so you can call me
Kenny if you want to.  Or call me Daddy.  I wish I had a daughter, and I
wish she was you.  If I had a chance to love you forever, I would love
you twice as long as that."  If only you wouldn't grow up, I added to
myself.

     Jenny smiled, reached out, put her arms around me, and hugged me
very tightly.  She didn't say anything.  I guess she forgave me for
lying to her.  We sat like that for awhile, just enjoying each other's
warmth.
