“Shut your god-damn cock-sucking mouth and stop your whining, you little cunt!” Missy Chrissy screamed with rage as Chloe burst through the door. “You’ve had a nice, relaxing evening so far, only fucked a few guys, so stop your complaining and MOVE YOUR SKINNY WHITE WHORE ASS!!!”
“Hey!” Chloe retorted as she clattered down the stairs, her four-inch spiked heels throwing off her balance and threatening to send her spilling down to the cold tile floor below, the cold ooze of spunk dripping out of her re-clenching asshole and dribbling down her thighs as she stumbled unsteadily. “I just had a cock in my ass and two in my mouth, give a girl a chance to wipe first!”
“Sweetie, I have had more cocks in my ass than you’ve seen in your entire life,” the gaunt black tranny sneered with a dismissive flutter of her hands as she snatched the torn, spunk-stained dress out of the pre-teen stripper’s grip and tossed it in the ‘filth bin.’ “Ain’t nothing you haven’t done before, and nothing you won’t do again. Come to me when you have two in your butt at the same time. Your set starts in three minutes, you ain’t nowhere near ready, and you got customers piling up! Get that cunt of yours in gear!”
“Yeah, yeah.” As the muffled music from the main stage thumped and bumped and boomed in her bones, the tiny naked blonde clattered across to her spot at the changing tables while Missy Chrissy turned her sour attention towards a teary-eyed six-year-old whose john had gotten a bit aggressive and left a trio of nasty gouges along the little girl’s neck. The blonde superstar perched on the edge of the chair and snatched a handful of tissues from the box on the left, and in truth felt mixed. On the one hand she was thankful that the club was so busy and business was so good – she certainly needed the money! But on the other hand… “What’s gotten the Dancing Queen all up tonight?” she asked Harper sotto-voiced as she wiped the spunk from the inside of her thighs.
The thin brunette at the table next to her leaned in close to her mirror, opened her eyes wide, and ran the mascara brush along her bottom lashes. “Sammy started bleeding,” she simply said as she perched higher on her chair and peered even closer, trying to stretch her face out as she worked on her look for the next hour.
Chloe paused, her heel perched on the edge of her seat and the wad of tissues pressed between her slim, flat ass cheeks, her hard-fucked body lewdly displayed for anyone who cared to look. “Seriously?” she asked in outrage. “What the fuck?!? She’s like only nine!”
“She took the pill,” Harper replied with a shrug. “Decided to move up in the rankings.” The brunette grunted with approval at her look and sat back in her chair. “At least, that’s what she claimed. I think that she just wanted to start breeding. You know how some of these new girls get.”
As her best friend wound her bow into her hair, the tiny blonde shook her head at the sheer audacity of the younger whore’s decision to leave the stage – although in truth she couldn’t fault Samantha too much, especially since she too had been considering such a career move. One little pill, and you kept the body of a little girl but you could finally get pregnant… and the cost-per-fuck a john was willing to pay for even the chance to impregnate the object of their infatuation was far, far higher than just a mere fuck-and suck. Hey, she was the highest-paid stripper/whore at the club, and even she could use the extra dollar per session. Still, the lure of stardom, the sheer thrill that she felt whenever she was on stage, the object of worship of hundreds of men, far outweighed her greed.
At least, for now.
“Stupid decision,” Chloe muttered as she wiped the oozing spunk from her freshly-fucked asshole. “She’ll squeeze out six kids by the time she’s thirteen, and then she’ll be stuck in Dogtown jerking off bums for crack.”
“Maybe. But it’s what she wanted, and that’s why Her Majesty is so sour.” Harper tugged the ends of her hair bow, turned her face back and forth to check one last time, and then hopped of her chair. “How do I look?” she asked as she held her arms out and gave a little twirl.
Chloe lowered her foot, tossed the sticky tissue in the trash, and peered critically at her friend. The brunette had donned a tiny white baby-doll nightie of the sheerest, semi-see through cotton, something designed to be torn away and which did nothing to hide her slim, undeveloped body. The white panties around her hips were tight and thin, made to be discarded – or used as a make-shift gag, which was far more likely. The bow was large and impractical – but, combined with the grown-up makeup, the ridiculous outfit, and her perky attitude, it did make the brunette seem the perfect combination of child-like innocence and sexually available pussy. “Good,” the blonde replied with a nod as she turned back to her own mirror. “Rape room?”
Harper made a face. “Yeah. In a minute I have to meet a new “Daddy” who’s gonna forcibly make his little girl a woman.” The brunette checked herself one more time, grimaced slightly, took two seconds to snort a line of white powder neatly laid out on the small hand mirror on the side of her table, and spun on her heel. “I’ll try not to leave too big a wet spot on the mattress for you!” she added over her shoulder with a cocky grin as she bounced towards the stairs.
Chloe flipped up her middle finger towards the racing brunette and glanced at the scrawled appointment sheet on the right side of her table out of the corner of her eye as she started to reapply her own makeup. Jesus, she thought as she quickly painted her puffy lips with gloss, six fucking fake rapes? And some standard fuck-and-sucks in between? She shook herself and redoubled her efforts to fix her face and tried not to think about the seventeen men she was so far scheduled to service that evening – a number she knew would rise even higher throughout the night with each of her performances on stage.
Maybe tonight she’d break her own personal best of seventy-one spurting cocks inside of her ten-year-old body. She’d only been on shift for less than an hour, and she had already knocked eight off of that number. Only sixty-four left to go – and at an average of eight per hour, it wasn’t impossible.
“Move your god-damn, daddy-fucking, titless body you little whore!” Missy Chrissy screeched in a high-pitched falsetto from across the room. “Chloe fucking Bauer, you may be a fucking superstar cunt, but you STILL gotta GET YOUR FUCKING FLAT ASS ON THAT STAGE AND FINGER YOUR RAPE-BAIT CUNT FOR THE CUSTOMERS!!!”
“I’m fucking coming!” Chloe screeched back. She stood and grabbed her costume – a tiny tear-away version of a school uniform, a slutty version of the one that she had been wearing only two short hours ago as she sat bored in class and listened to the teacher drone on about something infinitely forgettable – and quickly tugged the clothing onto her tiny body. Around her the buzz of the room echoed in her ears, and she drew on the energy of the twenty pre-teen girls changing into their costumes, snorting lines of coke to keep their energy up, gossiping about all the johns they had fucked and were going to fuck, reeking of male sperm and hard-fucked pussy, wiping their spunk-oozing cunts and asses and mouths and bodies and…
“Fifteen seconds!” The tiny blonde spared herself one last glance – Good enough for the stage, she thought – and darted across to the curtain. Beside the entrance to the main club Missy Chrissy stood impatiently, her foot tapping as she held Chloe’s school backpack in her slim fingers. “Still rockin’ the pigtails?” she sneered as the tiny blonde stripper scrambled to her launch point.
“Hey,” Chloe retorted as she snatched the backpack out of the tranny’s hands and slipped the straps over her shoulders, “I’ve told Viktor before that if he wants different looks, he’s gotta figure out a way for us to actually get quick hairstyle changes! A hairdresser…”
“Ain’t gonna happen, sweetie, Vik love’s his money too much.” Missy Chrissy peered down critically at the tiny girl before her, ‘adjusted’ the blonde’s blouse to show just a bit more flat chest, and a corner of her mouth quirked up in approval. “Nice fucking schoolgirl-whore as always. Gonna give ‘em an A-plus dildo show?”
“I always give ‘em an A-plus show,” Chloe said confidently. She had been practicing, and had finally nailed the climax of her performance – allowing her own body weight to impale her pussy on the forearm-sized faux-cock that now weighed down her backpack, and then leaning back to let the audience see the fist-sized bulge in her tummy as the dildo filled her pussy completely. She took a deep, quick breathe, exhaled, and again, and again, psyching herself up…
“Nice. Okay, fifteen minutes on-stage, you got a three minute turn around, ‘n then you’re working the Spunk Pit for the rest of the hour. Jesse-fucking-Connolly, what the fuck is wrong with you?!?” Missy Chrissy howled at the flushed, sweaty eight-year-old who stumbled as she burst through the curtain, her faux-Wilderness Girl uniform clutched in her hands and a glazed, shell-shocked look on her face. “You fucking know that you ain’t got the talents for the pole yet, did you really expect not to scrape the fuck out of your fucking cooze, you stupid whore?!?”
“My pussy was too dry, I haven’t fucked today yet,” whined the immature redhead. “I did it yesterday!”
“That’s ‘cause you fucked twelve guys in the hour before your set and you didn’t wipe!”
Chloe let the chaos fade into the distance as she let the energy of the club wash over her, feeling the beat of the music, the howls of the customers, the smells of cigarette smoke and booze and unwashed pussy fill her lungs as she felt her pulse quicken. Almost absently she sensed the tranny and the latest object of her wrath move away as she heard the DJ start her intro.
“And now gentlemen, put your hands together for the girl you’ve all been waiting to see!” boomed the deep male voice over the pulsing music. The voice rattled her bones, and the music was cranked up to a volume guaranteed to cause hearing loss – and it was just how she liked it. “With a face like an angel and a body designed for sin, she’s a true daddy’s girl who’s willing to do whatever sick things she has to do to earn her allowance! Give it up for Little Lamb’s very own…”
She felt her arousal spike, a pulsing in her pussy that matched her heart as her slit oozed. “Cock!”
She felt her soul sing as she prepared to dash out with all the energy in her pre-teen body. “Crazed!!”
She felt powerful and sexual and perfect and oh-so-right as a little-girl cum dumpster. “Chloe!!!”
As the music spiked and the crowd of men roared their approval she pushed through the curtain and the lights of the stage flashed in her eyes and for a millisecond she wished that she had taken the time to do a line off of Harper’s table but it was too late and she cocked one hip and let the perverts in the front row see her pristine white panties as she twirled and licked her lips and dropped to her knees as she tugged up her blouse to show her navel and actually felt so mature as she fought her fantasy to leap into the raging crowd and allow them to tear her body apart with their spurting cocks right there in the main club but instead spun on her ass and threw her legs apart
As the alarm of her fairy clock rang with a jarring metallic clanging, Chloe awoke with a start. She felt unbearably hot underneath the covers, her sleeping tee stuck to her body as if she had been swimming in it, her mouth tasting of death. She cracked one bleary eye and tried to ignore the stabbing pain in her skull as she flailed at the clock, inadvertently knocking it off the bedside table and onto the carpet where the muffled clang-clang-clang continued to drill into her brain. At least I’m not puking up my guts anymore, she thought sourly as she managed to summon enough energy to lean over the side of the mattress and flip the switch on the back of the clock to end the alarm and plunge the room into blissful silence.
She rolled onto her back and tried to let her mind wander back to reality, away from the crazed insanity of her dream. How can I be dreaming of this stuff? she asked herself as she tried to make sense of the sheer strangeness of ‘Stripper’ Chloe’s life. I’ve never even kissed a boy before, and now I’m trading sex for cash with dozens of them every night? She slid a hand down beneath the covers and between her legs, feeling the soaking wetness of her panties against the pads of her fingertips. I don’t even like changing in the locker room at the pool, so how can I get so wet at just dreaming about being a stripper? “I must be going insane,” she whispered, her conclusion a blunt decision that fell like an anvil upon her psyche.
Nothing of any significance had happened on Tuesday. She had awoken after her dream of being a high-class hooker, went through her standard self-abuse, and had fallen back into a fitful sleep. School had passed uneventfully, and she had done her homework and watched some television with her mother and Dylan until bedtime. The only thing that might have even come close to ‘fitting’ into her sex-crazed world was when Death Slut Lisa had walked from the bathroom to her bedroom bare-butt naked… but as she tended to do that at least once per week, it wasn’t anything special to Chloe.
After stalling for as long as she could she finally fell asleep… and that’s when the dreams started back up again. Non-stop they flowed, each more bizarre and disturbing than the last – she was a whore, she was a stripper, she was a victim of a rapist, she was a slut, she performed vile acts for money, she was the payment to men who did vile things to her, she was helpless and horny and violated in every way imaginable, she was all things one after the next, their vividness awakening her every hour or so. By the time her alarm rang she felt numb, almost as if the sheer volume of horrors oozing from her imagination had damaged her emotions beyond repair.
Still, she knew that she did still feel – and the tiny tears welling in the corners of her eyes were proof of that. “Why is this happening to me?” she asked the room with the faintest of hiccup-sobs in her throat. “I didn’t do anything wrong, God, so why do you hate me?”
As usual, God remained silent on the matter.
A quick rapping at her door, and she quickly wiped her tears on her sheets and sat up, letting her greasy blonde hair fall over her face to hopefully hide her red-rimmed, baggy eyes from her visitor. “Come in,” she called in a voice still rough with sleep.
Her door opened and her mother entered. Amanda looked as if she too had just awakened, but Chloe felt a tiny stab of jealousy that her mother could look so damn good in the morning. Yes, her honey-blonde hair (several shades darker than Chloe’s own brilliant straw) was a bit on the greasy side from her night’s sleep, but still it fell down the side of her neck and over her shoulder like a golden wave, and though her blue eyes still contained the barest hints of sleep her face remained flawless, with nary a bag or a booger or even a pillow crease marring her porcelain skin. Even her sleeping attire of a rose-colored spaghetti-strap tank top (that seemed a bit small to Chloe and strained across her ample, perky C-cups) and a pair of pink sweat pants (that almost seemed to hug her hips and actually made her legs look longer, if possible) was clean and neat, almost as if Amanda had simply donned them the moment she rolled out of bed. For an instant Chloe flashed to a dream fragment – Amanda told her to wait patiently in the hallway of the mall and talk to the dirty old men (negotiate her ass, really) while she entered the Men’s restroom, three college boys in tow, to earn a fraction of the rent money for the month – and instantly tried to force it out of her mind.
“Good morning, sweetie,” Amanda said in a tone Chloe believed was far too perky for the hour as she bustled across the room and pulled open the blinds to let the brilliant light of day chase away the shadows. “Did you sleep well?”
“No.” Chloe smacked her lips and tried to will the death-taste out of her mouth as she idly scratched her itchy ribcage. “I was too hot and now I’m all sweaty,” she added by way of a little lie, just to keep the peace and avoid a repeat of yesterday morning. She had tried talking to her mother about her dreams, but struggled to find the right words – and her mother instantly assumed that she was asking about real-world sex. That particular misunderstanding had prompted a very uncomfortable, very awkward lecture from Amanda about boys and girls, and vague comments about the sex act itself. (She did feel a little proud of herself that, after her mother mumbled something about when boys like girls very much, she avoided interjecting the special case of when a boy has an extra dollar or two and a hard cock.) By the time the bus had rumbled up to the stop in front of the house, both Chloe and she were happy to let the matter drop.
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” her mother clucked as she picked up a few little random bits of discarded Chloe-clothing and tossed them in the wicker hamper. The ten-year-old tried not to stare at her mother as the woman bustled around the room, and waited for the inevitable – which wasn’t long in coming. “Well, maybe you can take a nap after school. Oh, no, wait,” she added as she paused and got a distant look in her eyes as her memory kicked in. “You can’t you’ve got Wilderness Girls tonight. Is your uniform clean?”
“Yes, mommy.”
“And you’ve got clean clothes for school? I don’t want a repeat of last week, when you come running up claiming that you don’t have any clean undies just five minutes before the bus shows up.”
“I’ve got some clean ones, don’t worry,” Chloe grumped.
Her mother sighed, and took a quick seat on the edge of the bed. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you,” she remarked with a sad little shake of her head. “It feels like it was just last week that you were my happy little baby, and now you’re becoming more like your sister every day.”
“I am nothing like her,” Chloe replied, her voice thick with contempt.
“No, I know that, it’s just…” Amanda sighed and ran her fingers through her sexy-morning hair, a maneuver that pressed her firm, supple breasts up and made her tank-top stretch alarmingly. “I just don’t want you to grow up too fast, okay? I still want a few more minutes with my baby girl,” she added as she lunged across the bed and embraced her daughter with a firm hug.
Chloe felt herself soften just a little bit – it wasn’t her mother’s fault that she was sexy, or that Chloe was having the dreams, or even that she was in a bad mood. “Okay, mommy, I promise,” she said as she hugged Amanda back. “I’ll be your little girl forever.”
The woman laughed lightly. “Don’t you lie, Butterfly,” she remarked, giving the girl a little flick with her fingertips on the tip of her nose as she used the pet nickname for Chloe. “You’ll grow up when you’re ready. Just… Not too fast, okay?”
“I promise,” Chloe replied with a smile she didn’t truly feel.
“Wonderful.” Amanda gave one last squeeze and then stood in a single, fluid motion, her movements as supple and smooth as a ballerina’s. “Okay, now on to Dylan, and then Lisa,” she said, trying to hide the tiny shudder caused by the mention of her eldest and most problematic child. “You best get ready! After all,” she added as she paused at the door, “you never know what new and magical thing might happen. Remember what your father always likes to say?”
“A new day, filled with infinite possibilities,” Chloe replied. She did feel a bit better – the memories of the club were growing hazy, and she was looking forward to the meeting that evening. Specifically, she was looking forward to seeing her friend Erin once again.
“That’s right, Butterfly. So flap your wings out of bed and get crackin’! Time waits for no woman.” And with that last little boost Amanda was gone, sliding silently down the hallway towards Dylan’s room and the inevitable confrontation awaiting her to get him out of bed and vaguely moving in the direction of school.
Chloe smacked her lips once more, and then tossed off the covers. Yes, her head did hurt a bit from her disturbed sleep, and yes, she still felt a bit of cool dread at the disturbing shadows of her dream – but with each movement the dreams became fuzzier.
Maybe if she moved far enough and fast enough, she would be able to forget them altogether.
Chloe entered her bedroom, kicking her tiny tennis shoes off to a spot vaguely near her hamper as her fingers fluttered at the buttons of her blouse, working the tiny plastic buttons as she kicked a few dirty clothes out of her way. Fuck, gonna be late, she thought to herself as she quickly skittered over to her bureau and yanked open the bottom drawer, her mind half-filled with thoughts of her tight schedule that evening, half-filled with confused thoughts of her day.
After recovering from the exhilarating/terrifying dream that morning, the rest of her day had been blissfully uneventful. A quick breakfast with her mother and brother and the Death Slut Lisa, out the door to meet Harper (who still didn’t seem to remember blowing Mr. LaFonte!), a quick ride on the bus, and then learning and reading and activities and it was all so banal and bland and pointless! Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, nothing weird happened. It was exactly as Dylan liked to claim, ‘boring as fuck.’ Lunch was uneventful – no weird encounters with teachers or other students, banal and bland and pointless conversation about nothing at all, and both she and Harper managed to make it to the afternoon without any incident for yet more hours of blissful dullness.
One odd thing had happened, though – something of which Chloe just could not make sense. After the final bell had rung, after she had collected her backpack and her schoolbooks from her cubby in the classroom, after she had said goodbye to Harper and Lysette and Jezebel the rest of her classmates (and of course her teacher Mr. Skeller, and the class assistant Ms. Lyden – might as well stay in their good graces!), she had made her way through the hallways and towards the doors to freedom. But in the crowded, noisy stairwell she had spotted the weirdness out of the corner of her eye… piled in one corner at the mid-point landing was a rather messy scene, strange, gleaming pools and spatters and oozes of – something she really didn’t want to think about too much – in which strange rubbery things floated. The throngs of children chattered and laughed and walked right on by the mess, none of them even glancing in the corner as they clattered and ran down the stairs in their eagerness to escape the educational prison.
She had paused, trying to work her mind around what she was seeing, and with a start she realized that the mess was spunk, the strange, oozy stuff that coated everything in her dreams, the glistening boy-stuff that had been all over Harper’s face Monday afternoon, evidence of a large number of boys and men who had had sex. And the strange rubbery things were rubbers, ‘condoms’ as Mrs. McCloud had called them, things that boys put on their penises in order to have sex and not get a girl pregnant. What… her mind whirled as she stared at the vaguely sickening evidence before her. Why is that stuff here? What happened here?
_Hey, Worthless!_ Dylan’s voice rang in her ears a split-second before she felt the smack against the back of her head as her brother gave her his attention. _Quit spacing out and keep moving!_
“Dylan,” she replied with a wince as she glanced over her shoulder at her sneering brother. “What happened over there…”
“What?” he replied as he halted his flight. “Where?”
Chloe turned back and started to point at the mess, but paused when she realized that there was nothing in the corner but a few dust bunnies and some specks of dirt, nothing to indicate that anything had happened – including a thorough cleaning of the stairwell in quite some time. “I… But it was there…” she stammered.
_You’re losing it_, Dylan replied. He punched her in the shoulder a bit harder than she thought was really appropriate and continued his flight down the stairs. _Same old shit school that never gets mopped. We gotta move, if we miss the bus again Mom’ll be pissed._
Chloe gave the corner one last hard stare, and then reluctantly continued in the wake of Tornado Dylan. But it was there! her mind insisted. I saw it! But doubt began to gnaw at her mind – had she really seen the spunk and rubbers that proved some girl had gotten royally fucked by way too many boys in the stairwell that afternoon? Or was she going insane, letting the horrors of her dreams infect the real world? She wasn’t sure… But her questions were enough to make her suspicious, and she spent the rest of the ride home staring at the passing landscape outside the bus with a confused look that matched her whirling thoughts.
“Chloe!” she heard her mother shout up the stairs, “get a move on! We’ve got to be at Mrs. Goldberg’s in fifteen minutes, and I’ve got to go to yoga!”
“I’m coming!” Chloe shook her head, dismissing her musings as she quickly stripped off her blouse and went to work on the button of her jeans. I’m awake now, and that’s all that matters, she said to herself with just a bit more confidence than she might have necessarily felt.
“This thing is so lame,” Erin whispered as she palmed another cookie.
Chloe carefully tilted the gallon jug of bug juice (It’s just fruit punch! she grumbled to herself. Why do they always have to try being funny?), poured some of the sloshing liquid into a paper cup, and carefully put the container back on the table. “I know,” she whispered back as she took a sip, using the cup and her hand to hide her mouth. “Why do they make such a big deal about the stuff the kids do?”
“I dunno,” the rail-thin platinum blonde replied with a shrug. “Did they make such a big deal about us when we earned our first badges?”
“No, they didn’t.” Chloe raked her gaze over the gaggle of girls giggling and whispering and talking in various spots around the room. They ranged in age from six to eleven, ran the gamut of races and creeds and colors, but all of them shared one specific thing… each was clad in the khaki shorts and green top of a Wilderness Girl uniform, their green berets perched on their heads and their badge sashes hanging across their bodies. She glanced over at one group – a trio of eight-year-old second graders leaning together and whispering dark, little-kid thoughts – and just as quickly she averted her eyes. The ringleader of the trio was a short redhead who seemed to range between bratty little girl and grown-up authority figure in a heartbeat, depending on her mood in the moment. But it wasn’t her attitude that made Chloe nervous and unsure.
It was that the little redhead’s name was Jesse Connolly.
“Jesse-fucking-Connolly, what the fuck is wrong with you?!?” Missy Chrissy howled at the flushed, sweaty eight-year-old who stumbled as she burst through the curtain…
She hadn’t even realized it until the meeting had just started, until all the girls were standing in front of their chairs with their backs ramrod-straight and their hands held up as they recited the Wilderness Girl oath to officially start the meeting, and the spoiled Jesse had clattered down the stairs to the basement rec room and naturally made a scene to let everyone know that she had arrived. The red hair, the stick-thin arms and legs, the naturally cocky attitude, and suddenly Chloe flashed back to her dream that morning, at the club as she prepared to strip for money and fuck for even more money and the girl had left the stage before her and she somehow knew that it was the same girl…
She’s a little bitch. Why would I dream about her?
“Hey, Clo, is everything all right?” Erin’s face was a concerned mask as she peered at her friend. “You’re acting really weird.”
“No, everything’s fine,” the thin blonde replied. She took another sip of punch and glanced at Jesse out of the corner of her eye before leaning closer. “What do you know about them?” she asked in a quiet voice as she cocked her head to indicate the eight-year-olds.
“Those three?” Erin glanced at the trio, and then turned back. “I know that Dhruti is a little crybaby,” she said with the faintest of sneers as she flipped her wavy blonde locks over her shoulder. “And that Jilisa always likes to act like she’s rich, but her mom shops at WalMart. Jesse’s just a bitch who acts like she’s all that when she’s not.”
“But isn’t she really rich?” Chloe prompted.
“She says she is.” Erin popped the last of the cookie in her mouth, chewed, swallowed – and palmed another (this time oatmeal-raisin) and took a bite. “She might be lying, though,” she added around the cookie-wad lodged in her cheek. “All of them do.”
Chloe glanced at the redhead again and then back to Erin and tried not to think about where Jesse earned her money. The curly-haired blonde wolfed down the cookie in her hand and discretely palmed another two, and Chloe fought the urge to tell her to slow down – as much from jealousy as concern that the slightly taller girl might start choking. Oh, Erin Goldberg was sweet and a true friend, of that much she was sure – but Chloe always felt the faintest twinge of envy that, unlike her mother, Erin had the metabolism of a hummingbird. On the plus side, it allowed her to wolf down just about anything edible that crossed her path… but at the same time she usually burned so many calories that she almost looked gaunt, like a stick-figure given life and an oppressive Jewish mother who had to interfere in everything her daughter did.
Speaking of which… “Okay girls,” Mrs. Goldberg said with two quick claps of her hand to grab everyone’s attention, “let’s all take our seats again. We’ve got one more badge presentation, and then we’ll have our activity.”
As they moved back to their seats Erin grinned as she chewed, crammed the last of her cookies into her mouth, and whispered “Wonder what worthless thing somebody did this time.”
“Probably Color Coordination,” replied Chloe cattily as she too grinned (and surreptitiously brushed a few Erin-crumbs from her shoulder that the girl had inadvertently spewed onto her uniform) and created a fake, pointless badge from her imagination.
“Care and Feeding of Hamsters,” Erin shot back.
“Mini Skirt Washing.”
“Toenail Painting.”
“Toenail Eating!”
“Ew!” Erin shook with silent laughter as she rose to the occasion. “Booger Eating!”
“Poop Eating!”
“Okay, girls,” Mrs. Goldberg announced as she stood before the whispering girls (and the silently snickering Erin and Chloe), “one of our number has managed to earn a badge that really is reserved for those girls who are about ready to move on up into the Wilderness Scouts.” The rotund woman glanced down at the pages clenched in her hand and read from her notes. “As you all know, when you turn thirteen you are too old to be a Wilderness Girl, and instead become a Scout. While the two organizations are pretty much the same, the tasks you have to perform are much tougher and are designed to make you work to achieve them. Jesse Connolly, could you please come up here?”
Chloe leaned over as the tiny redhead bounced from her seat and joined Mrs. Goldberg on the stage. “It would be her, wouldn’t it?” she whispered.
“She probably earned a Puke Eating badge,” Erin replied just as quietly.
“Now then,” Mrs. Goldberg said as the grinning girl stood proudly next to her. “In the short time she has been with us, Jesse has proven herself to be a go-getter and has managed to earn almost ten badges. Well tonight, I am proud to award her our ‘Girl’ version of the regular ‘Scout’ badge.” She turned to Jesse, who looked positively tiny next to the gargantuan woman. “Jesse Connolly, as the Mother of Wilderness Girl Pack #438, I am proud to present you with your Anal Fucking Badge!”
The rest of the girls burst into applause (some more sincere than others), and for a moment Chloe too celebrated the redhead’s achievement – albeit her clapping was rather tepid and half-hearted. And then Mrs. Goldberg’s words sank into her brain…
Wait… What did she just say?!?
“Jesse, would you like to tell your sisters about what you did to earn this achievement?” the woman prompted.
“Yes, Mrs. Goldberg.” The redhead turned to the seated girls and almost preened at being the center of attention. “I had already gotten my Blow-Job Badge at school when I sucked off the principal at my school, and my Fucking Badge when I fucked that guy who came to my house to fix the furnace,” she said matter-of-factly, the words tumbling out of her mouth in a hyperactive waterfall. “And I was thinking about maybe going for my Public Use Badge, or maybe my Doggy Fucker Badge…”
“Another Scout-level badge,” Mrs. Goldberg interjected as she beamed with pride.
“Right. So anyway, last weekend I was trying to decide when I went to the public pool, and there was this guy who kept staring at me in my bikini, so I asked him and he said he wanted to fuck me,” Jesse explained. “So I saw the opportunity, and we snuck off into the girl’s bathroom, and I insisted that he fuck me in my ass!”
“Wow, so brave!” Dhruti whispered loud enough for everyone to hear.
“And how did it feel?” Mrs. Goldberg prompted.
“Oh, it hurt real bad,” Jesse admitted. “But only for a little bit, just when he stuck it in. He had this tube of greasy stuff he put on his finger and put in my butthole, and it felt weird, but he made it so greasy that when he put his dick in it went in easy. And I almost cried ‘cause it hurt so much, but then I just remembered that I was a Wilderness Girl and did like I was taught, and begged him to fuck me harder, and then he shot his stuff in my butt!” The redhead almost squirmed at the thought as she blushed deeper. “He was kinda rough, and kept slapping my head and calling me his little bitch ‘n that I deserved it, but that was okay ‘cause I kinda liked it. And it was so messy, and his stuff oozed out of my butthole and made a big mess in my bottoms when I put them back on, but I jumped back in the pool afterwards and it washed it all away. And that’s how I got it!”
The crowd of girls burst into applause once more as Chloe sat in shock. Did I just hear that? she asked as she tried to wrap her mind around the little girl’s admission. I thought I just dreamed her doing that stuff, dreamed of ME doing that stuff! This stuff doesn’t happen in real life!!! She glanced at Erin once more, and saw that her friend was applauding just as if Jesse’s story was perfectly normal. Why are they all clapping ‘cause some guy put his thing in her butt?!? Why aren’t they calling her parents, or the police?!?
And then she noticed something odd, noticed that the redhead was not dressed in the standard Wilderness Girl uniform – unlike the cargo shorts a tiny green mini-skirt was wrapped around her narrow, curve-less hips, the fabric so short and skimpy that the blonde could actually see the bottom of the white cotton panties covering her pre-teen mound. Gone too was the heavy, short-sleeved button-down blouse, and in its place the redhead sported a tiny halter top that seemed almost more like the bra of a bikini, with two tiny triangles of fabric placed over her stiff little nipples and held together by the thinnest of cords. The girl’s beret was the same, but her sash was made of satin that shone and gleamed in the overhead lights. “Erin!” she whispered, her eyes wide in shock as the tiny redhead before her almost seemed to wriggle in slutty delight. “Erin!” she repeated as she elbowed her friend.
“What?”
“What the Hell is she wearing?!?”
“What are you talking about?” Erin replied. Chloe turned to look at her friend and received another shock – Erin, who only mere moments before had been cramming cookies into her plain, somewhat narrow face, now wore layers of make-up, with a smoky eye-shadow, brilliant crimson lipstick, and a faint rosy blush on her cheeks. “She’s wearing the standard uniform, just like all of us.”
Chloe felt the hysteria welling in her chest as she looked at the girls, noticed slutty mini-skirts and skimpy tops, noticed satiny badge sashes and make-up more appropriate for a grown-up whore… and felt her heart actually skip a beat when she looked down at herself, and noticed just how revealing her uniform actually was…
This isn’t what I put on! her brain shrieked in shock as she instinctively covered her almost-bare chest with her forearm while plunging her other hand into her lap to keep anyone from seeing the g-string almost spray-painted over her hairless mons. I’d NEVER wear something like this, this isn’t what I wore here, how the HELL did I get into this thing?!?
“Congratulations, Jesse.” Mrs. Goldberg beamed proudly as she shook the little girl’s hand, the rolls of fat around her belly jiggling as she moved, the flab in full view of the world considering the grown-up mini-skirt/bikini-top version of the uniform she wore. “Now that you’ve earned the basic three, which one are you going for next?”
“Oh, that’s easy,” the redhead said easily. “I’m gonna go for my Gangbang Badge!”
Gangbang Badge! Chloe tried to swallow the lump in her throat, the distant words echoing in her ears as she pulled the sash away from her body. Her eyes flicked from badge to badge – over twenty small, one-inch circles with graphic images telling her all that she had accomplished while in the service of the Wilderness Girls. There was a cartoon cock pushing into a cartoon butt, there was a vaguely female form tied to what looked like a wooden X-frame, there was one that simply had the figure 20+ swimming against a red backdrop, there was a tiny cartoon horse with a tiny cartoon girl kneeling beneath, there was what looked like a two tiny girl-figures locked in an embrace… I don’t remember ANY OF THIS WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!?
“Okay,” Mrs. Goldberg said again with a little clap, and Chloe tore her gaze from her attire and back to the front of the room. “Now it’s time for our activity. If you recall, last week we learned how to suck cock like an expert. Why did we learn that?”
“’Cause the boys like us more when we use our mouths like the sluts we are,” several of the girls intoned, almost as if repeating a lesson they had learned by rote.
“Precisely. Did anyone actually try out what we learned over the past week?” The girls murmured for a second, and then a tiny brown hand floated up from the other end of Chloe’s row. “Maria?”
“I sucked awf my brudder,” the six-year-old Latina lisped. “An’ he shot his stuff in my mowf. It was icky! But I did w’at you said, an’ I swallo’ed.” The little girl made a face. “But his phone was chargin’, an’ I couldn’t get a picture, so I didn’t get a badge.”
“That’s okay, sweetie,” Mrs. Goldberg replied as she patted Maria’s head. “If you do it again, you’ll be able to get it next week! And don’t worry, his is only the first cock you’ll be sucking off in your lifetime. Now then,” she continued briskly, “it’s only natural that we use our mouths to suck off the boys. But… How many of you know that you can use your mouths to make your fellow Girls feel real good?”
“Daddy says that if a cunt has time to lick another cunt, she ain’t fucking enough,” a small brunette that Chloe didn’t know very well stated bluntly.
“Well, that may be true,” Mrs. Goldberg admitted. “But sometimes you just have to get off, and if there’s no boys around then you need to use another girl. So, I want everyone to put your chairs in a big circle,” she instructed, “and get with your partners. Tonight we’re going to learn just how good it feels, and tastes, to eat pussy.”
This can’t be happening, this isn’t real, I’m dreaming… Chloe’s gaze darted around the room, her eyes wide with shock, as she saw the Girls pairing off and pushing their chairs back towards the walls of the rec room. A weird energy seemed to fill the space, an electricity that seemed to arc between couples as they moved close to each other. She watched, mouth agape, as Jesse stepped close to the unknown brunette, leaned in, and whispered something in the girl’s ear that caused her to blush deeply – or perhaps it was the tiny hand sliding down the girl’s bare back and onto her miniskirt-clad ass.
She felt a nudge against her shoulder, and tore her gaze away from the pair to peer up at Erin. “Hey, c’mon, let’s go,” her best friend said whispered quietly. “Do you want to eat me out, or you wanna have me eat you?”
“What?” She was so confused… Why can’t anyone see how WRONG this is?!?
“What’s wrong, Clo?” Erin’s face was a mask of concern and exasperation as she took Chloe by the arm, grabbed the back of her chair with her other hand, and steered both to a free spot against the wall. “You’re acting really weird! C’mon, get going, you don’t wanna get whipped, do you?”
Whipped?!? “I… No, I don’t,” Chloe said weakly. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for something normal upon which to focus and failing miserably. “I just don’t… I’m not sure what I should do…”
“Clo, you’re kidding, right?” Erin planted the chair slightly away from the wall, maneuvered Chloe in front, and gave her a gentle little push. “We practiced this just this weekend!” she hissed as an annoyed look crossed her face. “You’re the one who came on to me in my bedroom! You know what to do!”
“No,” she insisted quietly, “I don’t!” But suddenly, without any warning, she realized that she did know. Images flooded her mind of Erin and Chloe in the former’s bedroom… Of the gentle kisses that grew harder and hotter as their hands roamed over each other’s bodies… Of the feel of flesh-on-flesh as they slowly stripped each other and revealed their young, nubile bodies to their hungry eyes… Of the taste of Erin’s pussy as she lay between her splayed thighs and feasted upon the moaning, writhing girl… Of the feeling of Erin’s hot breath in her mouth as each plunged their fingers into each other’s tight, slick, pre-teen pussy, pumping their digits faster and faster as they rode the orgasmic wave that grew and crested and the finally crashed over onto both girls simultaneously…
But that didn’t happen! her mind screamed. We just studied knot-tying!!!
“Is there a problem here, girls?” Mrs. Goldberg appeared behind her daughter almost as if by magic, her rotund form towering over Erin as she peered at the two.
“No, mommy,” Erin replied quickly. “Chloe is just… Acting, making me work for it.”
“Yeah, acting,” the seated girl replied weakly.
Mrs. Goldberg smiled as she grunted in satisfaction. “That’s good!” she replied. As she leaned past her daughter and patted Chloe’s knee in a matronly manner, she added, “You are really one of the best Girls we have, dear, always pushing the others to go beyond the regular! Now then,” she continued as she turned her attention to her daughter, “what should happen here? What did you learn from your manual?”
“Uhm… That if a bitch is acting reluctant, they need to learn their place.” Erin stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as her brow furrowed in thought. “You can hit them, or insult them, or get them drunk ‘r stoned. Or you can just tie ‘em up and make ‘em take it. At least, that’s what the manual says.”
“Good! Now then, which do you think Chloe deserves?”
Erin peered at the cowering blonde, her eyes hard and glittering as she considered her best friend and sex partner. “I think she wants me to tie her up?” she asked.
“I think so too.” Mrs. Goldberg gave a little nod, stepped across to another pair, and retrieved a roll of duct tape. “So secure her tightly, and show me what you can do.”
“Yes ma’am!” Erin fired off a little salute. As her mother turned away Erin leaned over the cowering girl and pulled out her camping knife. “Stop fucking around!” she hissed as she pulled the tape free from the roll and used the razor-edge of the blade to cut off a long swath of tape. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you…” Working quickly, she secured Chloe’s wrists to the back legs of the chair, forcing her ass to the very edge of the seat, and added another band across the girl’s mouth. With a grunt of satisfaction that mirrored her mother’s, she nodded at the restrained and exposed girl seated before her.
Through it all, the blonde girl did nothing to resist, frozen into place by both the terror roiling in her soul and the sheer incomprehensibility of the situation. This can’t be happening it’s happening I don’t want this please eat me and make me cum oh GOD this is repulsive I love her SO MUCH… Her head throbbed, as much from the uncomfortable position as the warring, confusing thoughts in her mind, and she squirmed in discomfort as she felt the strain in her shoulders from her unnatural position. Tiny tear formed in the corners of her eyes and rolled down her cheeks as she silent begged her best friend not to rape her and to rape her, both and neither at the same time…
“Okay,” Erin said quietly as she pried Chloe’s knees apart and knelt between her spread legs, “just sit back and enjoy it.” Holding her heels on the edge of the chair with her hands (which bent Chloe even further as her heels grazed her ass and spread her legs even wider), Erin leaned in close. Placing her nose right over the tiny green satin triangle covering Chloe’s slit and inhaled. “Fuck, you smell so good,” Erin practically moaned, her warm breath washing over the sensitive flesh of her most private of places. With a quick flurry of movement she stripped off two more lengths of duct tape and wrapped them around the helpless girl’s legs, binding her calves to her thighs and permanently securing her legs open.
Oh God please no this is wrong… But as Chloe’s eyes darted madly around the room she saw that she was not the only girl restrained and being ‘forced.’ Directly across from her was the unknown brunette bound in an even more uncomfortable position, with her ankles secured to either side of her head and her bare mound fully exposed, and Chloe caught a split-second glimpse of the dark-haired girl’s slit, a tiny dark line barely the length of a quarter and totally featureless, before her view was blocked by a mop of auburn hair as Jesse planted her face over the girl’s mound and began to lap. And vaguely to her left she watched out of the corner of her eye as a bound and kneeling Maria was slapped twice by an older girl before she planted her peach-fuzzed cunt over the crying girl’s mouth and ground her hips against the six-year-old’s face. Everywhere she looked tongues lapped at pussies, fingers stroked thighs, palms slapped faces and asses and mounds, and she closed her eyes but couldn’t shut out the sighs and moans and flesh-on-flesh smacks and the wet sounds of lapping tongues on sopping wet pussies…
Chloe’s eyes snapped back open the instant she felt lips on her thighs, a series of tiny, gentle kisses as her mistress moved in closer. She locked her gaze on her best friend, her blue orbs meeting Erin’s brown, half-pleading and half-encouraging as the Jewish girl slid aside her g-string and moved in tight. Chloe felt Erin slide her hands up the inside of her legs, felt her thumbs press into the hyper-sensitive flesh on either side of her pre-teen slit, felt the pressure as the girl opened her up and exposed her completely, felt the wash of hot breath as another gentle kiss graced her, this time directly on her tiny nubbin.
And then Erin’s eyes gained a wicked glint, and without warning she ran her tongue up Chloe’s slit in a single stroke. Chloe squirmed as much as she could as a lightning bolt of sheer, lust-fueled pleasure arced from her clit, up past her heart and into her brain, before it reverberated back down to burn in the pit of her pelvis. Oh FUCK that feels so good she thought, even as another part of her felt her gorge rise at the thought of being with another girl. Another stroke of the tongue, another bolt of pleasure, and then another, and another, and another, and then Erin was worming her tongue past Chloe’s non-existent lips and poking against the tiny pearly arc of flesh that was her cherry, all while her thumb turned lazy circles around the helpless girl’s clit.
The room seemed to tilt and whirl around Chloe as she rasped for air through her nose, her distant gaze locked on the blonde curls bobbing between her legs. She could feel the tension building in her thighs as her entire body trembled and tried to buck against Erin’s face, tried for force more of that wonderful tongue deeper inside her warm and ready pussy. Her heart pounded in her chest as she sat there, helpless to resist the sheer primal lust burning in her body, prompted by the abuses visited upon her by her best friend. Erin’s butterfly barrettes seemed to almost flutter in her hair, and then she raised her brown eyes to Chloe’s blue and both their gazes locked and she saw nothing but love, full, unconditional, complete and total love from Erin and she knew that the girl loved her as much as Chloe loved her and then wave broke and she crashed over the edge as her cervix spasmed deep inside her pre-teen, still virgin pussy as her lover brought her to climax yet again and as dark spots filled her swimming vision she sobbed tears of pure joy and sexual release that Erin still found her taste irresistible and she SO hoped that SHE TOO could feast on Erin’s succulent cunt
“Clo!” Erin hissed in her ear, “what the Hell are you doing?”
Chloe’s eyes snapped open and she saw Erin before her, her face swimming with a mix of emotions ranging from sheer embarrassment to concern to confusion to inscrutable something behind her eyes. She found that she was slouching in the chair, her khaki-clad ass perched precariously on the edge and her shoulder blades digging into the seat back, her hands gripping the back legs so tightly she feared that she might hurt herself. “Wha… What happened?” she asked unsteadily as she slid back in her chair. “What’s wrong?”
“You tell me!” Erin’s gaze snapped around and focused a quick glare at Jesse and the brunette, both of whom were peering at the pair with confused looks on their faces. “We were working on tying our knots like my mom said, and the next thing I know you’re squirming in your chair and moaning! What the Hell?!?”
“I… But what about…” Wait, did I DREAM that? she asked herself as she tried to regain her mental balance. She caught Jesse’s eye and starred dully as the redhead brattily stuck her tongue out and turned away. “We were tying knots?” No, we weren’t, you were EATING ME OUT…
“Duh! Of course!” Erin glanced over her other shoulder, noted her mother’s attention firmly locked on Maria and an older girl as they beamed and showed-off their substandard attempts at tying the slick nylon ropes in their hands, and leaned in close. “Jesus, what the Hell are you trying to do, get us into so much trouble?!? I mean, it’s one thing to do fake cums when nobody’s watching just for laughs, but…”
“I didn’t…” Chloe said as she sat up straighter and tried to get her bearings. “I wasn’t, I’m sorry, I musta just had an seizure or something.” But she didn’t believe her lame attempt at an excuse, didn’t believe a word coming out of her own mouth, as her own body told her the truth. Behind the heavy green top of her Wilderness Girls uniform her nipples were hard enough to cut glass, poking through the tiny, thin cotton of her training bra like knife tips, and the crotch of her white cotton panties beneath the khaki shorts were sopping wet with her own girly-juices as evidence of her orgasm. As she felt herself coming more fully into her own body she felt one last spasm deep in her pussy, one last aftershock of the explosive orgasm she knew that she had just experienced.
“Well, just don’t do it again when my mom’s around!” Erin sighed and leaned back in her chair, a faint flush on her face from… something. “Jesus, Clo, when you do fake cums you certainly don’t mess around! How do you even know how to do stuff like that?”
“I… musta learned it from my sister,” Chloe lied. No, it was REAL, I came ‘cause you ATE my PUSSY! “I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened…”
“Everything okay here girls?” Mrs. Goldberg had slid silently up to the two whispering girls, her movements as silent as a ninja as her critical eye raked over her daughter and her friend. “You don’t seem to be getting very far…”
“Sorry, mommy,” Erin replied quickly. “Chloe wasn’t feeling well, so we had to stop.”
“Yeah,” Chloe agreed weakly, “I felt a little sick.”
Mrs. Goldberg clucked and placed the back of her hand on Chloe’s forehead. “Hmm, well you do feel a bit warm, dear. Maybe you should tell your mother when you get home, you might be coming down with something.”
“Okay, Mrs. Goldberg, I will.”
As the matron bustled off to check on the other pairs and she and Erin returned to their task of tying sheep shanks, double hitches, and square knots, Chloe tried to reconcile what everyone believed had happened with what she knew had happened. I can still feel her TONGUE on me! she thought as she peered at Erin out of the corner of her eye. She knew that, somehow, what she remembered had happened had actually occurred – and that nobody else seemed to remember..
After a few more minutes of knots Mrs. Goldberg called the girls back to order, and Chloe returned her chair to its neat row and took her seat once more. But throughout the rest of the meeting she could feel Erin next to her, feel her female nearness that overwhelmed everything else. That couldn’t have happened, she thought as Mrs. Goldberg droned on. Erin ‘n me are WAY too young! And girls just don’t do that stuff!
But no matter how much her rational mind tried to deny it, her soaked panties told her the truth.
“So,” Mrs. Goldberg remarked idly as she flicked the turn signal of the MomUV and slowed to make her turn. “Are you getting excited about earning your Public Service badge?”
“I dunno,” Chloe replied distantly as she continued to stare out the window. “Yeah, I guess so.”
The rest of the meeting had passed in a blur for the young blonde – a series of announcements, instructions, and general paperwork- type stuff that had completely failed to capture the attention of the shell-shocked blonde. Chloe just could not seem to grasp what had happened. Erin put her TONGUE on my PUSSY!!!She TIED ME UP and ATE ME OUT and MADE ME CUM!!!
For her part Erin didn’t seem to think that anything out of the ordinary had happened – indeed, when she caught Chloe’s shocked look out of the corner of her eye she tossed the blonde a quizzical look, almost as if to ask What are you staring at? Chloe blushed a deep crimson, remembering the wavy-haired girl’s head bobbing between her splayed thighs and the wonderful, the delightful, the incredibly pleasurable sensations that had arced from her clit like tiny bolts of lightning that shot up to her brain and then settled into her belly with a warm, welcoming heat even as they shocked her heart into a staccato beat. But still…
That was WRONG that was SO WRONG but it FELT SO GOOD but we’re both GIRLS and girls just DON’T DO THAT… Even an hour later she still felt hot, felt the sticky wetness in her panties as her girly-cum pasted the thin cotton over her pussy, still felt the blush in her cheeks at the memory of her first non-self generated orgasm, felt ashamed and shocked and confused and sick and happy and everything in a roiling tempest of emotions.
“That’s nice.” Mrs. Goldberg fell silent, and Chloe could tell that she was trying, really trying to engage her daughter’s friend in some sort of conversation – and failing miserably. “Are there any other badges that you think both you and Erin are going to work on?”
How about EATING PUSSY?!? her mind screamed. The girl glanced at the middle-aged woman behind the wheel and then quickly glanced away as the image of Mrs. Goldberg standing in the midst of the pack of girls, pointing out the best way for each to arouse their partner and bring them to climax. “No, maybe, I don’t know,” she managed to choke out.
“That’s nice,” Mrs. Goldberg repeated. The older woman sighed, slowed the vehicle, and turned onto Chloe’s street. “Listen,” she said as she pulled up to the curb and moved the shift to park, “I’m not sure what’s bothering you, but I get the feeling that something upset you tonight. Look, sweetie,” she said in a motherly tone as she placed a gentle hand on the blonde girl’s, “if something happened that made you uncomfortable tonight, you can tell me, you know that, right?”
“I…” Chloe almost said it – almost screamed You had us eating each other’s PUSSIES and you did NOTHING BUT TELL US HOW TO DO IT RIGHT!!! – but the words were stuck in her throat. She knew, knew deep in her soul, knew that Mrs. Goldberg was just like Erin, just like Jessie, just like Maria and Dhruti and everyone else, and she didn’t remember the little-girl lesbian orgy in the basement of the Goldberg house, didn’t remember the sighs and gasps and moans and orgasms and the way that the place reeked of pre-teen sex for the next half-hour. She knew that she was the only one who remembered… and even now, an hour later, she was wondering if she was actually remembering the meeting, or if she was remembering a dream of the meeting. And she knew if she said anything, told anyone about what had happened, what she thought had happened, nobody would believe her.
Because they didn’t remember.
Just like Harper.
Chloe started as she put the two events together and realized that, just like Harper couldn’t remember sucking off Mr. LaFonte two days ago, none of the girls at the meeting remembered eating each other out. Only she remembered. Only she didn’t forget.
What makes me so special? she wondered.
“No, nothing at the meeting upset me,” she finally said. She plastered a weak, fake smile on her face and squeezed Mrs. Goldberg’s fingers. “I… just had a fight with Dylan before the meeting, and I think I’m still piss… uhm, still angry about it.” She willed herself to lie, willed Mrs. Goldberg to believe the lie, willed the older woman to not suspect a thing. “Really, you ‘n Erin were great, and I’m really excited about the camping trip next weekend!”
“That’s good.” Mrs. Goldberg seemed to sag a bit with relief, gave the girl’s hand one last squeeze, and then twisted to reach into the backseat to hand Chloe her things. “Oh, don’t forget to have your mother sign the permission slip,” she reminded the young girl. “You won’t be able to go without it. And hey,” she added as Chloe opened the door, “I’m glad that you and Erin are such good friends!”
If you only knew HOW good… “Me too,” Chloe replied with another fake smile. “Okay, g’night Mrs. Goldberg, I’ll see you next week!” Before the woman could reply the tiny blonde bounced out of the MomUV, slammed the door shut behind her, and gave a little finger wave goodbye. Through the window Chloe could see her shadowy smile, and then the pitch of the engine changed as she pulled away from the curb and drove away.
I can’t say anything, Chloe thought to herself as she slowly moved up the sidewalk towards the front door. Never say anything! Even now her legs still felt weak from her orgasm, and she could swear that her panties squished ever time she moved her legs. It was a strange feeling, an uncomfortable feeling… but it wasn’t a truly horrible feeling. If she were honest with herself, the wetness and the weakness actually felt pretty good. It reminded her that she wasn’t so innocent anymore, that she was moving on the path towards becoming a woman, and that it had been the touch of a true and trusted friend who had moved her along.
… And that, more than anything else, scared her the most.
She turned the knob, slipped into the hallway, and closed the door behind her. “Mom, I’m home!” she sang out as she dropped her backpack by the table and moved towards the dimly-lit living room. “Mrs. Goldberg says ERUP!”
Chloe froze in the archway as her mind tried to make sense of the tableau before her. Her mother was not alone… indeed there were men in the living room with her. Tall and short, thin and fat, young and old, white, black, Latino, Asian, over twenty men lounged around on the furniture and leaned against the walls, all of them naked, most of them stroking their stiff, hard cocks. And on the couch was Amanda, nude, her body a blur of motion as she squirmed and writhed and spasmed in the throes of her agonized ecstasy. She bore down on the black cock she was straddling and forced more of it into her stretched, slick pussy, all while the white guy behind her shoved his shaft into her asshole. A third guy sat on the back of the couch, his fingers twisted into her mother’s hair as he forced her mouth onto his prick. Her hands flapped weakly in the small of her back, held in place by the thick rope securing her wrists and preventing her from fighting off her rapists. And two more, one black and one white, stood with cruel smiles of pleasure on their faces as the furiously pumped their cocks and prepared to shoot their boy-stuff all over her. The woman’s tanned, toned body was criss-crossed with welts and bruises, and her flesh gleamed with a combination of sweat and spunk, proof that the gang rape had been going on for some time, and the erections filling the room hinted to the little girl that her mother’s torment was far from over.
She stood in the doorway, her mouth open in shock, as the man forcing her mother to suck him off raised her head with a cruel yank of her tangled, sweat-soaked honey-blonde hair. “Look who showed up, cunt,” he remarked with a sneer as he turned her head to Chloe. “Maybe another party favor?”
“Yes, please,” Amanda sobbed as the guy fucking her asshole moved faster and faster. “Rape her, please, rape her and let me rest, just for a moment, please, and then you can do whatever you want, oh God please…”
The man laughed, slapped her face, and forced her mouth down over his cock once more. “Oh, we’ll be doing that,” he hissed, his voice thick with lust. “But you ain’t gonna get any rest…”
Chloe shrieked in terror as she backpedaled, her mind threatening to break. Oh my GOD I’ve got to call the cops I’ve got to call SOMEONE oh mommy how could you do THAT to me… She skidded on the small throw rug in the hallway and slammed into the thick wooden door, her hand scrabbling at the doorknob as she felt the presence of a dozen men charging after her intent on causing her pain as they raped and tortured her
“Chloe Elizabeth Bauer!” Her mother’s stern voice echoed in her ears. “What is the matter with you?”
The tiny blonde glanced over her shoulder, her eyes wide and filled with teary terror… Only to see her mother standing in the archway, dressed in a pair of loose-fitting sweat pants and one of her father’s dress shirts, a pint of ice cream in her hand and a shocked look on her face.
“Mom?” Chloe heard her own voice in her ears, a weak and whispery thing that barely registered. “I… But there was…”
“Your brother is asleep, and you should be as well,” Amanda said with a scowl as she took several steps to stand before her daughter, her entire body seeming to exude motherly authority. “You shouldn’t be screaming and running around like that for no reason!”
“But… In the living room…”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m waiting up for your sister.” Amanda’s scowl deepened as she furrowed her brows in annoyance. “I’m just having a snack and watching television, and it’s way past your bedtime, and way too late to run around making a racket, young lady! Now then,” she continued as she grasped Chloe’s are with her free hand and guided the shivering girl back into the living room, “what has gotten into you!”
Chloe saw… the living room. Same couch and chairs and bookcases filled with thick books that she never read, the same fireplace and mantel upon which she hung her stocking at Christmas, the same oriental rug over hardwood floor and the same paintings and photographs on the walls and the same grandfather clock in the corner, it’s sonorous TOCK-TOCK-TOCK almost drowning out the laugh track of the almost silent television as silly grown-up people ran around arguing with each other about confusing, pointless things. There were no men. There were no rapists. Everything was exactly, precisely normal.
“I…” Don’t tell can’t tell lie lie LIE!!! “I thought I saw a spider,” she said weakly. “And it scared me.”
“A spider,” her mother repeated, a dubious tone in her voice. “Right.” Amanda sighed and ran her fingers through her somewhat messy hair, a movement that caused the neckline of the dress shirt to gape open slightly… and revealed the smooth, flawless, tanned skin of her chest, unmarked and unbruised. “Look, I’m going to have enough drama when Lisa gets home,” she explained quietly as she steered Chloe towards the staircase. “I really don’t need a bunch more right now. I want you to go up, get ready for bed, and go to sleep.” Her voice was firm and hard, her orders clipped and her tone making it clear that she wasn’t in the mood for any resistance on the part of the little girl. “We’ll talk about spiders in the morning. And whatever Mrs. Goldberg wants. Now give me a kiss.”
She leaned in, and Chloe graced her with a tiny peck on the lips. “Okay, good night mommy, I’m sorry I scared you, I love you,” she said softly as she wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck.
Amanda’s face softened a bit, and she returned her daughter’s hug with one of her own. “I love you too, Butterfly,” she replied. She broke the embrace, spun Chloe, and gave her the gentlest of pats on her backside. “Now, off to bed with you!”
She did as she was bade, moving slowly up the stairs. And she worked hard, did everything she could, to keep her emotions from her face.
May 3rd, Chloe wrote in the lined notebook, her lettering tiny and neat and precise. Thought I saw a mess in the stairwell at school that vanished – boy-stuff and rubbers? At Wilderness Girls, weird uniforms and badges that went back to normal. Got tied up and got pussy ate by Erin.
The girl sat cross-legged on her bed, clad in her sleeping tee and with the covers over her lap, as she wrote in the spiral-bound notebook. After getting ready for bed, after climbing in bed, after turning out the light and closing her eyes, she couldn’t stop her mind. Everything was becoming confused, and she was having trouble telling what was real and what wasn’t… and then had the idea.
“I have to start writing things down,” she muttered as she snapped the light back on, leapt from under the covers, and dug an older, half-used school notebook out of her desk. Tearing out the used pages (from third grade, all about boring science and interesting history and really stupid sex-ed), she paused for a few minutes, gnawing at the end of her pencil as she thought about what to write.
Everything just flowed. She wrote about her dreams, wrote about Harper and Mr. LaFonte, wrote so much that in just a few minutes she had filled a page. On the back of the page she listed the places she had dreamt of, from the woods to the alley to the strip club (What was it again? she asked herself. Oh yeah… Little Lambs.) A new page, and she started on today.
She tapped her teeth with the eraser as she thought, debated with her own soul, and ultimately decided that she had to do it. I liked it, she continued as she blushed slightly. Am I gay or just dream gay? Saw mom getting fucked by lots of men who hit her, she added as she shuddered slightly at the recent memory. But when I ran everything vanished.
Chloe thought hard, and at the very bottom added a question, something that she thought might be important, something that she just realized as she read back over what she had wrote. Bad stuff vanishes when not looking?
Downstairs she heard the front door slam, and two feminine voices, one a husky adult’s and one a whiny teenager’s, echoed through her closed door. With a sigh Chloe closed her notebook, carefully placed it in her bedside drawer, and snapped off the light. As the argument below grew more heated and she sank into the covers, she tried to forget about what she had seen and what she had felt, both the horrors and the pleasures, as she tried to quiet her mind. Tomorrow, she thought. Tomorrow I’ll try to figure out a way to figure this out.
As she felt her consciousness fading, she prayed one last little prayer that she wouldn’t dream. One night, please, God, just one night...