
Lethal Lolita Revisited

By Leslie Schmidt


I guess it should be an object lesson to me. Even the 
most sweet seeming people can actually be truly 
dangerous. I was in total shock when I read the 
articles about the "Lethal Lolita" case in Lansing. It's 
amazing to me that the wonderful, sexy, and so fun 
filled little girl I had spent the evening with had 
murdered three people in cold blood-one just after 
she had given me the most exquisite experience of my 
life just hours before.

Well, let me take a couple of steps back. I had gone to 
Lansing looking for art. The art scene on the coasts 
and in a few large inland cities is so dominant that 
what is made in the smaller cities is usually ignored. 
So, I was looking for a few artists that I could recruit 
from the heartland. That's really the wrong word, I 
wanted to see if I could get lucky-show the next big 
name in art world on the Left Coast.

Donna Massy had a reputation as a dealer with many 
lesser known painters and sculptures, so I arranged a 
meeting. Her office is lined with no fewer than 20 
works, some quite good, many really bad. When I 
entered, however, I was immediately struck by a 
figurine on a side table. It was a bronze of a young 
girl aiming a bow. She was naked. The artist had gone 
to great lengths to make her as anatomically correct as 
possible. Her face was almost life like, her ribs and 
musculature was worthy of the great renaissance 
sculptors, even her toe and fingernails were 
meticulously formed. I didn't say anything but, of 
course I noticed the careful reproduction of other 
parts.

Our meeting took more than an hour, she showed me 
photos of much of the work she had placed in various 
galleries around the city, she noticed my admiration 
of the sculpture.

"The model is my daughter, Megan. She was eight 
when Paul Colt did that work."

"It's beautiful," I said.

"Yes." She paused for a minute, "She's a really pretty 
girl. She'll be and 'La Emorald' this evening, you can 
meet her."

The meeting went on, I was really kind of intrigued 
by some of the works, but I was finishing up a five 
day three city trip and was a bit numb from all the 
paintings people had wanted me to show.

There was, however, a portfolio by Colt with pictures 
of several of his bronzes. "Young Artemis*" was 
there, as was another work of a boy with winged feet, 
"Young Apollo." Included in the portfolio were 
several pages of the photographs Colt had used in the 
making of his statues. Apollo did not interest me, but 
Artemis certainly did. I looked carefully through the 
pictures of the little girl in various poses, then close 
ups of her, obviously used in rendering the detail in 
the sculpture. Some, due to their subject and the close 
up nature of the photo, could be called pornographic.


*Artemis was the Greek Goddess of the Hunt. He 
twin brother was Apollo, the God of prophecy, music, 
and hunting. She carried a quiver of painless arrows 
and had a reputation as a lady not to be fucked with.


Donna noticed my looking at the pictures of her 
daughter. "She's ten now, a little taller but still very 
much the same."

I was embarrassed that I had been caught. "She's a 
beautiful young lady," I stammered.

"Lady?-you'd be surprised," she said with some 
understanding that I really didn't catch at the time. 
"She's a favorite model for a number of artists."

She brought over a book that had been on the table 
next to the figurine. It was full of paintings and 
pictures of Megan, most of them with her undressed. 
They must have started with her around three, then 
progressed up to the present day. Several left no 
doubt that she knew her affect on the artist and the 
audience. In a few she was obviously pantomiming 
sex. 

"She's very worldly and maybe acts old for her age. 
I'm sure you'll like her." She paused, "Now, let me 
show you some works I think will be very popular in 
LA...." Her meaning was unmistakable.

I had dinner with a different dealer, a real flamer 
named Jacques whose taste in art is almost as bad as 
his taste in cologne. I was happy to get out of there 
before desert and make my way back to waterfront 
area to meet with Donna.

I'll skip the banal details of my meetings at the 
gallery. There were a number of the artists there, all 
trying very hard to impress me. One was John Colt.

"Massy tells me you really liked "Young Artemis."

"Yes, it's remarkable."

"The subject is around here somewhere, let me go 
find her." He turned and disappeared into the small 
crowd.

I continued milling, usually trying to avoid 
conversation. There was a tap in my shoulder. I 
turned around to face Donna, next to her was Megan. 

"Bill, this is my daughter, Megan," she said.

We talked for a few moments, then Donna left us 
together. Megan was surprisingly up front. "Mom 
says I should ask you to take me out after the 
showing."

I was a little taken aback by this, being asked out by a 
ten year old, but she had earlier said that she wanted 
to know "Just how big an art dealer I was." Her 
meanings were unmistakable and, just to emphasize, 
she kept leaning against me and pushing her pubes 
against my leg. At one point Donna came up and told 
Megan to behave and she'd see her in the morning. 
Then Donna left.

When the show started to break up, we made our way 
out to the street. It was pretty cool, a little cool for 
walking so, as we waited for a cab I asked her where 
she'd like to go.

"Where're you staying?"

"I'm at Colonial Suits."

"Cool! Do you have one of their spa rooms?"

Suddenly the implications made my blood pressure 
rise, along with another part of me. "Ahhh,...yeah."

"Can you get some pizza from room service?"

"Oh," I said, "I'm sure."

It was a really short ride to the hotel, we really could 
have walked the six or seven blocks. I shepherded 
Megan quickly through the lobby, not really wanting 
to be seen taking a child up to my room. Once there, 
she turned on the TV and told me she liked Canadian 
bacon and pineapple.

"The Apprentice" was on, it made for some light 
entertainment while we waited for the pizza. I rid 
myself of my tie, Megan, after dropping her coat on a 
chair, pulled her sweater off. Underneath she had on a 
red sleeveless top, cotton with spaghetti straps. Her 
just beginning breasts, just her nipples, were pushing 
out from the plain of her otherwise completely flat 
chest, making two sharp points on the light fabric. It 
took 25 minutes for dinner to arrive during which she 
interrogated me about life in LA, my family, my 
house and the like. She opened the fridge and asked if 
she could open one of the small bottles of red wine. 
We shared it in plastic cups from the vanity sink. 

She inspected the spa, turned on the blowers and gave 
me an evil look, "I've never done it in one of these 
before."

I was sitting on the bed and she came over and 
cuddled up to me. I hadn't held a little girl like that in 
years, not since my daughter was her age. She looked 
up at me and smiled, then giggled, then laughed. She 
had caught me looking down her top at her two flesh 
cones.  

"Don't try to look innocent," she said. "I have a pretty 
good idea what you want." Then she pulled the top 
open, giving me a great view of them.

I almost jumped out of my skin when there was a 
knock on the door. I was seized with fear until I 
remembered the pizza. Megan jumped up and ran to 
the door, letting the pizza delivery boy in.

"Pizza's here daddy!" she exclaimed. It wasn't until 
the next day that I realized that a man and his 
daughter in a spa suit might raise eyebrows. I paid the 
bill and gave the kid a $5 tip, Megan was sitting cross 
legged on the bed munching before I got the door 
closed.

I went back and took a piece but, frankly, I was too 
nervous to eat. The adrenaline hadn't cleared my 
system yet, my heart was still pounding.

"Can I have more wine?" she asked.

"Sure."

I went to the mini bar and took the second bottle of 
Zinfandel out for her, for myself, I drained a 
Michelob just after I sat back down. We sat and 
munched. Megan told me about her place-sounded 
like quite a spread with horses, tennis courts, and a 
fancy pool. She also said she had tutors for school, 
her brother was at a boarding school up state and she 
would be going there in a couple of years. I asked her 
if she had any friends and she told me all about other 
kids who lived near her. Some were in school but 
most either had private tutors or went to boarding 
schools.

After she had eaten her third or fourth piece of pizza 
(I had managed to choke down one and drained two 
beers, plus the glass of wine), she slid off the bed and 
walked over to the spa. She looked down at it, then up 
at me with that wicked smile. Without saying a word 
she lifted her top over her head and dropped it on the 
floor.

My pulse rushed in my ears and as my stomach did a 
couple of summersaults. I hadn't see a girl this age 
topless for over 10 years. Nickel sized aralias with 
pointed tops were the only rises on her chest. I flashed 
back to seeing my daughter at that age, standing in the 
bathroom after a shower. She had stepped across the 
room and quietly closed the door when she saw me in 
the hallway. That was the last time I had seen her 
naked but I had cherished the mental image for years. 
Now, here I was alone with another 'tween', this time 
under decidedly different circumstances.

Now Megan unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them 
down, stepping out of them. She straightened up, 
looking at me with an incredibly sultry expression. 
She was wearing a dark blue thong with lace strings.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," she said.

I'm afraid I was at a lose for words-I'm sure I had 
my mouth hanging open.

Without saying anything more, she hooked her 
thumbs through the strings and pushed the thong 
panties down, then stood up, facing me.

The blood was a storm raging in my ears as the room 
took on a foggy look. Only the naked preteen, her flat 
chest and tummy, straight hips, willowy arms and 
legs and, oh, clean smooth cleft, pink lips with just a 
trace of the hood peeking out, was in my world. My 
breath staggered as my heart felt like it would 
explode!

She turned and stepped into the spa, sitting down. 
"Well, come on silly, this place's big enough for 
two."

I remember I felt silly as I struggled to untie my 
shoes. I hadn't been so nervous about getting 
undressed since I was 17 and in the back of my 
mother's Dart. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I 
was ashamed as I pulled my pants and briefs down, 
showing my filling cock to the child.

I moved quickly and sat down in the hot, almost too 
hot, water. In the water, my cock stuck straight up, 
even though it wasn't quite hard yet. She sort of 
floated across to me, kneeling in front of me. I 
watched as her hands wrapped around my dick and 
started moving up and down. I leaned down and 
kissed her and was surprised to feel her tongue 
against my lips. I opened my mouth and was amazed 
at how good a kisser this little girl was.

She didn't say a word after we broke our kiss. First 
she smiled, then took a deep breath and went under 
water. God! The feeling of her mouth closing around 
my cock head! She bobbed two or three times before 
coming up for air, then dove again. Her hair spread 
out on the surface of the water in a dark halo, the back 
of her head never quite going fully under water. I 
lifted my hips and brought her up, then watched as 
she slid my dick in and out of her mouth.

She sensed that I was nearing the edge and lifted up. 
Her hair was in tendrils across her face and she pulled 
it off to the side. "My turn now," she said.

She stood up and I was face to face with the most 
beautiful part of human anatomy, a little girl's clean 
slit. I was drawn, uncontrollably to it, my tongue 
explored the slit and the inner folds. Megan thrust her 
hips forward and squatted down slightly, allowing me 
to work deeper between her legs. I felt her hands on 
my head, gently guiding me, telling me what she 
wanted. She made a couple low squeaking noises.

I just couldn't reach my goal with her standing, 
bending my neck back uncomfortably. "Sit on the 
edge," I told her.

Megan backed up, to the other side of the pool and sat 
down, spreading her little girl pussy for me and 
leaning back on her hands. Next I was kneeling in 
front of her, licking and sucking her. She put one of 
her feet on my shoulder as she started to gasp for 
breath. I pushed my tongue into the opening and felt 
her shudder, moaning softly. At the same time there 
was a rush of slickness as the little girl came. She put 
one hand on the back of my head and pushed me 
against her and came again with a loud moan. I raised 
my head and looked at the panting child. Her skin was 
flushed pink, her eyes dark.

She moved forward, pushing me back to the seat 
opposite. Then, without saying a word, she lowered 
herself on me. Using her right hand she guided my 
cock against her lips, then she pulled them apart with 
her fingers and I slid into the child. All this was 
underwater and I looked down to see. Megan, 
knowing what I wanted, leaned back so, through the 
rippling and wavy surface, I could see my cock buried 
inside her hairless cooch. We fucked for only a 
couple of minutes before I was overtaken and flooded 
the immature womb with my sperm. My cumming 
brought her off and she crushed my head against her 
chest as I felt her pussy spasm around my cock.

We both sat there, panting for a few minutes, then she 
stood up, again uncovering her wonderful pussy for 
me.

"Wow," she said, "I need another drink."  She 
climbed out of the hot tub and I admired her form as 
she walked to the minibar, leaving wet footprints on 
the carpet.

"Bring me another beer," I asked.

She made a big splash getting back in the tub, getting 
water in my eyes. From the tub we could see the TV, 
so we sat, arm in arm, and watched. After only a 
couple of minutes I moved my hand across her hip 
and felt the softness between her legs. She spread her 
knees and my finger easily slid into her as she 
grasped my arm, hugging it to her chest. Soon she 
was humping as I pushed two fingers inside her 
smooth clam and she came again, this time biting the 
back of my arm painfully. She relaxed against me, 
breathing deeply.

I actually sat there in the warm water and dozed off, 
waking a few minutes later to the sound of the blow 
drier in the bathroom. Through the door way I could 
see Megan, wrapped in an enormous white towel, 
drying her hair. I really had to take a piss and knew 
it'd be awkward in the bathroom so, after a little 
consideration, I simply let fly in the tub (I assume the 
management changes the water every day-at least, I 
thought with some disgust-I hope they do).

With that thought, I was done for the night with the 
hot tub and I climbed out. There were towels on a 
rack next to the tub, so I dried off. As I was doing 
this, Megan had clicked off the dryer and moved to 
the bed.

She sat down, facing me, and let the towel fall, 
spreading her legs. She had that wicked look on her 
face again as I stared at her open slash, reddish-pink 
inner lips pulled slightly apart between the pink outer 
lips. "I want a mustache ride," she said.

Even though I don't have a mustache, I simply 
couldn't not comply. This time, kneeling on the floor 
between the ten year olds knees, I had the most 
marvelous time licking and sucking her smooth 
hairless clam, pushing my tongue inside her, watching 
her chest rise and fall. I almost spuged on the side of 
the bed as I watched her arching her back and shaking 
with an intense orgasm, making high grunts and 
digging her fingernails painfully into the back of my 
head.

She calmed, panting, but I wasn't ready to stop. As 
she lay there, half conscious, I lifted up and pushed 
my throbbing dick inside her.

"Oh!" she said is my cock slid all the way in side her. 
She looked up at me with wide eyes while I relished 
the sight of my dick buried deeply inside a preteen. I 
started stroking and she started moving with me.

It being the second time that night, I was slower to 
build this time and got to watch as she came again, 
her little clam milking at my cock. Again she relaxed 
back, panting, and I used the break in the action to lift 
her, and myself, still coupled, onto the bed, me on 
top. We rocked again in the missionary position. The 
feeling of her legs wrapped around my hips was 
wonderful as she pushed up to meet me, her arms 
around my neck. She bit my collarbone as I pumped 
what little sperm I had left inside her. Then, relaxing, 
I rolled off to the side, bringing her with me.

Sometime later we moved around and got under the 
covers. In the process, she got up and turned off the 
lights, then we snuggled comfortably and went to 
sleep. I was shocked awake later with the sound of the 
door clicking closed. I looked at the clock, 3:10 AM. I 
considered pulling on pants and running after her-
the least I could do was make sure she got home 
safely, but then I realized that Megan, for only being 
10, had probably done this a few times before.

I scanned the headlines while waiting for my plane to 
load the next morning. The lead story was about a cop 
being shot overnight, but I didn't think much about it.


