Note from Piper: This chapter contains a brief death scene.
For the first time – the morning of the second day after IT had happened – we finally saw the sun. Well, sort of… It was low on the horizon, barely visible through the thick haze covering the Los Angeles basin and doing absolutely nothing to chase away the long shadows that seemed to be everywhere. It was the shadows that made me the most nervous – even though it was still pretty light outside and I could mostly see into them, the tiny animal part of my brain was convinced that there were… things… lurking inside, horrible, violent things ready to lunge out and pounce upon the pair of us. The lawn before me seemed almost a sickly-green color, an emerald that just wasn’t quite right – although if it was because of the murky light or something else, I just wasn’t sure. “What’s taking so long?” I hissed over my shoulder without turning my head, intent on keeping a watch in all directions, holding the somewhat dull butcher knife in front of me like a shiny silver sword. My fingers were wrapped around the plastic handle so tightly that my knuckles were turning white, but there was NO way I was willing to loosen my grip even the slightest. Did something move over there? I wondered as I whipped my head to the right, tensing as I peered at… nothing, nothing but a couple of me-sized garbage cans overturned on the edge of the road. No…
“I’m getting there!” Brittany hissed back. I winced as I heard a meaty THUNK! and the crack of metal hitting wood, followed by a simultaneous little-girl grunt of effort and creaky splintering. “This ain’t easy, I’m tiny now and about as strong as a baby!” I heard her groan/grunt again and another creaky splinter, and then there was a tearing sound that was far too loud for my comfort. “Got it!” she stage-whispered in triumph. “Motherfuck, that hurt like a bitch…” I risked a glance over my shoulder to see the little blonde girl rubbing her wrist and then tore my attention back to the world behind us, trying to see everywhere all at once, on the lookout for...
Looking out for them.
After Brittany and I had explored our Sapphic sides yesterday afternoon, we had each individually spent about half an hour just trying to come to terms with what we had become. I wasn’t gay, and she claimed she wasn’t gay – but our lusts drove us to do anything, anything and anyone,to satisfy our urges. Neither of us could explain what had happened, and in truth it was something that I didn’t want to think too deeply about... I had no desire to dive down that particular rabbit hole! I thought that could handle being transformed into a six-year-old girl, and I thought I could handle the whatever-it-was that had made me into a sex-craving slut willing to do whatever sick thing I needed to do to satiate my lusts. But to be transformed into a six-year-old who had reoccurring fantasies about cramming large objects into my body… It was twisted, it was sick, and every time my thoughts began to wander in the topic’s vague direction an overwhelming tidal wave of shame and humiliation washed over me that stayed my tongue and ensured that I would keep my dark desires to myself. And even though she didn’t say anything I had the feeling that Brittany was struggling with her own transformation, as more than once she opened her mouth to say something – but every time her will would break and she would settle back down beside me, hugging me even tighter. The physical contact with her helped, a bit… but at the same time the closeness of her body, the wonderful scent of her skin, the knowledge that there were only two baggy, adult-sized tee-shirts between us and total nudity was intoxicating, and it was all I could do to keep from stroking her back with my trembling fingertips. If my houseguest’s fluttering, hesitant fingers were gave any indication, she too was struggling with our closeness.
It was the exhaustion generated by the fact that neither of us had slept since before our change, or it was because of the sheer stress, or the lack of food and way too much wine on empty stomachs, or the half-dozen orgasms we had torn from our own or each other’s bodies during the day, whatever… I didn’t even realize that we had fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep until I awoke the next day. As I swam back into consciousness I was aware of my horniness, an overwhelming lust that made my much-abused pussy slick and my tiny little-girl nipples hard enough to cut diamond, the sheer physical need pushing everything aside until it was literally the only thing I could think about. I blinked the sleep out of my eyes and glanced over at my houseguest, still fast asleep and drooling a little bit into her pillow. She looked so innocent, so at peace, so without a care in the world in her slumber that I felt another wave of shame at the explicit thoughts running through my mind. I wanted to crawl under the covers and lap at her pussy… I wanted to take her hand and push her fingers up inside of me… I wanted to tie her up, have her tie me up, to force me to cum over and over and over again until I died from the effort of my orgasms as I gushed all over her lips and face and fingers and hands and arms and bodies and everythings…
No… I couldn’t, just… couldn’t. I tried to be as quiet as possible as I slipped out from under the sweaty sheets and off of the mattress, landing on the thick carpet with nary a sound as I tugged the tee over my hips and down my thighs. The bathroom proved to be a wonderful respite, and I gratefully closed the door behind me as I struggled to keep my thoughts in check. A quick visit to the toilet to take care of a pressing issue, and then I let my urges take over…
Just be quiet, I told myself as I slipped off the toilet and cast about the bathroom, my eyes searching for… Searching for… I didn’t know exactly what I wanted, but I knew what I needed right there in that moment – something thick and hard and firm, something that I could use to scratch the infuriatingly insistent emptiness between my thighs. My gaze slid across hairbrushes (meh), hairspray (way too big!), a half-curled tube of toothpaste (yeah, right), until it fell on the bottles in the shower cubby. I had conditioner in this thin curly plastic bottle, body wash in an oval column…
Yes! Nestled in on one side was a small bottle of shampoo that I had gotten during a promotional event. I can’t remember ever using it, but had just stuck it in the cubby along with the rest of the stuff I never used – but in that moment it looked perfect! It was about six inches long and made of a really hard plastic, and as I wrapped my fingers around its inch-and-a-half diameter I knew, just knew, that it was the perfect thing to slake my lusts right then. I wanted, needed, to get myself off, to get myself off with it, to push it into my pussy and just make myself cum…
The entire world seemed to fade away as I stared at the bottle in my hand, and then moving almost like I was in a daze I knelt on the area rug covering the tile floor. My free hand tugged up my tee, pulling the hem up my thighs and over my hips and past my flat belly all the way up to my throat, exposing my pale flesh to the open air. I was horny, so horny that I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t even reason – all I felt was a burning need, an emptiness that the bottle would fill! I rolled onto my flat ass and lay fully on my back, letting my legs spread automatically. It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable setting, but really, who the fuck cared? Tucking my chin to keep the tee in place I slid my free hand down past my hairless mound, down between my legs, and sent an exploratory stroke of my fingertips along my slit. I felt so hot, so wet that the sheer sexual arousal actually surprised me a bit – but then I made contact with my stiffening clit and I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning at the lightning bolts of pleasure shooting up through my body. Drop my fingers down and dip them in, worming them inside my cunny, pulling them out to spread my slickness over my hole, and again, and again, everything sliding effortlessly as I felt my lust rising higher and higher.
It feels small, how big? I wondered what I looked like down there, wondered how my brand-new pre-teen cunny actually appeared, and so I lifted my hips up off the carpet and curled my body. With one foot planted against the counter and the other on the edge of the tub I rolled into a half-ball, almost balancing on my shoulders and bringing my sex before my eyes. That’s mine, now, I remember thinking as I peered at my gleaming pussy. It was tiny and almost featureless – just a quarter-on-edge slit that almost didn’t even seem to be there it was so small – except for the tiny pink nub of my stiff clit peeking out from the top. Curiously I spread myself with my fingers and almost gasped at the startlingly-bright inner pink that met my gaze, the smooth and wet-looking flesh wound around a teeny tiny dark hole that led further inside my body, and I instantly fell in love. My pussy is so cute! I mused with a bit of a stupid grin. I wormed a single finger inside, past the whorl and inside, and was a bit surprised at how easily I slid in. My cunny was so wet, so slick, so empty, I have to do it, I have to do it, I have to…
My pulse pounded in my ears as I reached forth my trembling hand and spread my cunny with the fingers of my right hand while I positioned the bottle with my left. Do it, just shove it in, ram it in and fill yourself up!!! I felt a flash of annoyance that my make-shift toy wasn’t perfect – the flat bottom just too wide for my pre-teen pussy, I couldn’t just plunge it in! I set my jaw as I sort-of angled it so that one edge was nosing in right at the tightly-whorled entryway to my innerness, and then gave my wrist a little twist and curved the base while pushing slightly at the same time. I couldn’t help it, I just had to moan as the sensation of something thick and hard and way too big started to push aside my inner pink, insistently knocking at the door to my fuck-hole. I pushed a bit more and felt the strain of my underage body, felt the sting as something far too large was being forced into the far too small me, and I worried for a moment that it might be too much, that I couldn’t push it in or that I might actually hurt myself… I gave the bottle one last gentle, steady-pressure push while trying to mentally relax my vag…
Then with a suddenness that almost shocked me, my tightly-wound entryway irised open and the bottle slid inside of me! I yelped with surprise and then froze, worried that I might have been too loud and alerted Brit – but door remained closed, nothing happened, my secrets were still safe. I pushed the top of the bottle, feeling it slide even deeper into my body, spreading me wide open like I loved, craved, needed! Oh God oh GOD this is so good, so good… I used my fingertips to grasp the tight cap and pulled it out slightly, helpless to stop the whimpers bubbling up from my soul at sensations. My hole felt stretched wide, far wider than it had been when I used my fingers or the neck of the wine bottle, stretched so wide that I thought I would break. “Yes, God yes,” I whispered as I pushed it back in, luxuriating in the sensation of the hard plastic sliding along the walls of my pussy.
I brought my knees up even higher, curling my tummy just to get an even better view. The bottle was wedged in my pussy, my lips stretched so wide around it that they were turning a deep red from the strain. I slowly pulled it back out, luxuriating at the sensation of the tiny dribble of pussy juice that streaked down my hairless mound and into my belly button, before I pushed the gleaming-wet bottle back inside my body. My eagle-eyes spotted my clit peeking out from its hiding place, stiff and hard and almost throbbing with my arousal, and I ran an exploratory fingertip across it. A tidal wave of glorious pleasure arced through body, and I couldn’t help but moan in spite of myself. I pressed my clit again with two fingertips and rolled the nubbin as I pushed the bottle even deeper, trembling with tension as I felt myself filled up completely. My hips rolled even higher, my knees glancing against my shoulder as I strained to see, tried to see everything, and I wriggled the bottle in cunt a little bit as I furiously worked my clit and feel the combined sensations of the shaft shifting my innards a bit and the lightningbolts from my button combine to send me higher, close, closer still…
And then I crashed over the edge and into an orgasm so intense that I almost passed out! I could feel the shifting deep in my belly as my womb opened up, offering itself fully and without condition to the glorious shaft filling me up oh so completely. I felt a wet flowing from deep in my belly, and knowledge that I had just given myself the most intense climax I have ever experienced made it even hotter and more intense. My clit became so sensitive that it actually hurt to touch it, and I yanked my stroking fingertips away as I tried to shove the bottle even deeper. Wet dribbles from my spasming pussy spattered onto my belly, my ribcage, my chest, my throat as my sex-juice flowed and squirted around the edges of the bottle. So good, so good…
It could have been just a second, it could have been a million years – I wasn’t sure how long my orgasm roiled through my body, how long my stretched-full pussy spasmed and twisted and welcomed the invader within my tiny body. When I began to regain my sense I found myself almost curled double, with my knees dangling just above the floor on either side of my head and my bottle-stuffed cunny squarely in front of my eyes. I felt satisfied, I felt happy, I felt more fully sated than I think I had felt in my entire life. “So good,” I whispered in awe, repeating my mantra of pleasure and shivering at the sheer level of lewdness that I had displayed. Every since I had ‘grown up’ over a decade ago I had been rather conservative in my sexual displays – fuck, I had never done anything so perverse even back when I was a twenty-something slut! But now, on the floor of the bathroom with a shampoo bottle shoved into my pussy and the cap wavering just inches from my eyes, it felt natural, it felt right, it felt oh-so-perfect that I couldn’t comprehend what had ever made me such a prude.
I brought my backside up even higher, peering at the bottle wedged inside of me, feeling a sense of pure amazement that something so large could fit into something so small! I wriggled my makeshift toy one last time, giving a tiny half-twist as I began to tug it out of my sex-swollen pussy, whimpering at how good it felt. Every millimeter that the thing slid out brought a tiny dribble of girly-cum flowing out of my cunt, a tiny little stringy stream that oozed over my throbbing clit and down onto my chin, and almost instinctively I flicked my tongue out to take a taste. It was salty and musky and sour all at the same time and I moaned as I lapped at the stuff, savoring the taste of me and wanting more, wanting to taste more, wanting to do more, and as I tugged the bottle out fully a large gob of the stuff oozed out of my slowly closing cunny and dangled down and I took it on my tongue and slurped it up and felt the spatter of the stringy stickiness splat against my chin and throat and I could taste it again, taste more of it, if I could only raise my head a bit and curled my screaming abs a little further and then I could actually flick the tip of my tongue against my clit and maybe if I strained more I could actually lap at my slit, I could eat out my own needy cunt, and I strained to extend my tongue farther as I pulled open my well-fucked pussy and my entire world was the bright pink gleaming flesh soaked in that wonderful stuff and almost there…
Oh my GOD what the FUCK was I doing?!?
I felt my gorge rise as I uncurled in a quick motion and flung the bottle away from me, back into the shower where it thunked against the tile and clattered down to the tub below. I felt sick, sick and twisted and so dirty at what I had just done, what I wanted to do! “No,” I whimpered as I felt tears sting the corners of my eyes, “no, no, no…” I sat up, straining to sit as I folded my legs beneath me and wrapped my arms around my body. My mouth, my chin and lips felt sticky from the stuff that I had tasted, and I wiped my face with the back of my hand as I sobbed, feeling helpless and lost and confused and ashamed, so ashamed at just how dirty I was, how sick and twisted, how could I possibly even think about that, oh GOD I hoped nobody knew…
Brit!
I whipped my head around and saw, to my great relief, that the door was still firmly shut. I grasped the edge of the counter as I levered myself up, managing to stand even though my legs wobbled and threatened to send me right back down to the floor, but I was up, I was standing. My blonde houseguest might think I was playing with myself in here, but she didn’t know what I had done, and as long as I didn’t let her find out then I wouldn’t die of embarrassment. Besides, she probably wouldn’t have any room to judge me… after all, I was a professional, and she was a porn star, and she probably had done far, far worse. “And she’s going through it too, probably, something like it,” I whispered to my reflection as I stood on my tip-toes and washed my hands, and then grabbed a washcloth to remove the incriminating evidence from my face and throat. “She’ll understand.”
What, my bloodshot, mocking green eyes seemed to sneer as my mirror image peered back at me, that you’re a pervert who’s jilling-off every chance you get? That you suddenly love cramming big things into your undersized cunt? That you’re desperate to eat out your OWN pussy?
“She’ll understand,” I repeated stubbornly.
She’ll think you’re a twisted pervert, my reflection repeated just as stubbornly.
I paused at the door, hesitant, my will suddenly uncertain. Yes, Brit was probably going through the same thing or something similar, and I knew that she wouldn’t judge me too harshly – but was she? Was she becoming – had become – a pervert, just like me? “Just pretend,” I whispered, trying to calm the nervous butterflies in my stomach. “Pretend you’re normal.” I wasn’t normal, that much was obvious… but I could pretend. I could hide what I was becoming, what I had become.
I could hide what I wanted. What I needed. If I pretended I was normal, then I could be normal. Right?
Right?
I’ll admit it… I was a coward. I just couldn’t go back into the bedroom, not after… Not after…
Not after you shoved a bottle into your pussy and ate your own cum? a tiny voice in the back of my brain mocked.
After I got cleaned up I just let myself go, curling into a ball on the rug and just sobbing in shame and humiliation. Everything just seemed to get worse with each passing second – ever since IT had happened I felt horny all the time, a deep-seated low-grade lust that I was never able to get rid of, a desire to just feel penetrated. To feel something shoved up inside my underage, underdeveloped, and way undersized pussy, to feel myself stretched out and filled up, to feel… used. Even through my misery I could feel the twisted hunger lurking deep in my soul, an arousal that slicked my already-satiated pussy and made my tiny nipples almost permanently hard. “What’s wrong with me?” I sniffed quietly through my tears, even as I fought the urge to stroke my semi-stiff clit.
Of course, I couldn’t hide my shame for long. I remained in the bathroom for about half an hour, but eventually I cried all the tears that I could possibly cry and the dull ache of my empty stomach reminded me of far more pressing problems than my descent into depravity, so I forced myself up off the floor, cleaned myself up as best as I could, and ventured out to confront my problems. A deep breath to resteady my nerves, and I gingerly opened the door – and tried not to notice Brit’s sudden sharp movements under the covers. She had rolled over onto her tummy and was doing something under the covers, her backside tenting up the sheet as she squirmed.
Naturally, the second that I opened the door she reacted, flipping onto her back and yanking her hands away from herself as if she had touched a hot stove. “Uhm… hey,” she said by way of greeting, scooting up on her butt until she was sitting up against the headboard, the sheet twisted high up on her chest in one tiny fist as she stared at me with almost shock. “G’morning,” she added.
I couldn’t help but notice her flushed face, the gleam of perspiration on her forehead, the way her nostrils flared as she breathed… and tried not to think about what I had ‘caught’ her doing. “Hey,” I replied as I felt a deep blush run up my neck and into my face. You weren’t just masturbating and SHE wasn’t just masturbating and neither of us knows what the other was doing… “Bathroom’s free,” I added lamely.
“Ah… thanks.” Her blue eyes were wide as she peered at me, sliding from my face down my body and back up, and I could swear that I felt her gaze on my little-girl form, and it felt so good, like a lover’s caress. “I’m good,” she added as she tore her orbs from me and over towards the opposite wall.
“Oh… okay.” So weird, this is soooooo weird… I forced my feet to move across the carpet and back to the bed, hopping slightly to get back onto the mattress. I took one edge while Brit slid as far away from me as possible, both of us confused and disturbed by the feelings coursing through our little-girl bodies. I hoped that it wouldn’t become an issue and tried to think of something to say – but fortunately I had something far more pressing to take my mind off of our mutual perverse attraction. First my stomach rumbled to remind me that, except for way too much wine, I hadn’t had anything to eat all day yesterday, and Brit’s matching tummy grumble told me that she too had a hunger that was nowhere near sexual. I glanced at the blonde, who glanced at me in shock… and then we both burst out laughing. “Okay,” I managed to choke out, “let’s not think about… that. We’ve got a bigger problem.”
“Yeah. We needed food.” She replied in a simple, direct tone.
“But there’s nothing in here,” I continued with a frown as I slid my heels up to my flat backside and hugged my knees with my arms. “Really, I’ve only got some olives that I think I bought sometime around Christmas 2007 and couple of bottles of water…”
“And wine,” she interjected with a teasing grin.
“And plenty of wine,” I agreed with a matching grin.
“Maybe we can order some takeout delivered, or something,” the little blonde replied with a smirk as she absentmindedly stroked her cotton-covered thigh through the sheet.
“Somehow I don’t think Mister Chang’s is delivering right now,” I shot back with a smirk of my own. I leaned against the headboard, settling into the massive pillow behind my back and lacing my fingers behind my head as I stared up at the ceiling and thought. “We don’t know how long we’re gonna be stuck like this,” I reasoned out loud, “and we don’t know how long we’re going to be stuck in here. We are so gonna need stuff, like food…”
“We should try to get some more water stored,” Brit suggested as leaned back as well and matched my reclined position. “Batteries and flashlights,” she added.
“A transistor radio,” I replied.
“First aid kits.”
“Some real clothes, like stuff that will fit.”
“Some real weapons, guns ‘n shit like that.”
“I wouldn’t even know where to find things like that,” I admitted. I turned my head to look at her and gave a little shrug. “The only time I’ve ever even seen a gun is on set, or carried by police officers.”
“There’re more out there than you think,” she replied, once more mirroring my movements. “Lots of private citizens have guns, hunting rifles and shotguns at least. And if you’ve got the money, you can probably find a way around the gun laws.” She shrugged as well and returned her gaze to the ceiling. “There’s probably a ton of ‘em up here in the Hollywood Hills, given all the rich folks around, peering down on us lowlifes.” She paused for a moment as her words sunk in, blushed, and then glanced at me. “Sorry, I wasn’t talking about you…”
“Don’t worry about it,” I laughed dismissively with a wave of a hand. “I’m rich in personality, not money.”
We continued our discussion, but every idea we came up with always led back to the same thing, and we quickly came to the same conclusion… without supplies there would be no possible way for us to survive more than another day or two. And considering that there were no supplies in my house, we ended up at the only other conclusion that we could make – we would have to head to another nearby house to see if we could get said supplies there.
Naturally, Brit thought it was a terrible idea. “I do not want to go back out there!” she said emphatically, sitting bolt upright as a horrified look crossed her face. “I can’t! We can’t!!! You don’t know how bad it is out there…”
“I know,” I quickly said as I too rolled onto up and crossed my legs Indian-style on the somewhat sweaty sheet. “I don’t much want to go out their either,” I admitted, swallowing heavily as a small little jolt of fear ran through my body and caused my heart to pound in my chest. “But the truth of the thing is that we don’t have much of a choice. I’ve got nothing to eat, we’re nowhere near ready to actually do anything to help ourselves…”
“Maybe the Army’ll come and help,” the blonde offered with a desperate look in her eyes.
“Maybe,” I said with a tiny shrug, and then took half a second to pull the oversized collar of my adult-tee back up over my shoulder. “Maybe not. I don’t know what’s gonna happen, but we might have to…” I swallowed again, steeled my spine, and tried to look determined. “We might be on our own here,” I concluded quietly.
“Yeah.” I knew she didn’t want to admit it aloud, but Brit could see the logic in my words. “So, where do we go to get the stuff we need?”
“I… don’t know.” And I didn’t. I thought long and hard, tried to take into account our semi-remote location and diminutive, helpless forms, and pondered… “One of the neighbors?” I suggested.
“But what if they’re still in there? Y’know, little girls like us,” she shot back. A thought of her own flashed through her mind and I could see her physically pale just a bit. “Or what if there’s one of… them,” she added, her emphasis making it clear to whom she was referring.
I too blanched as an image of the naked psycho killer boy flashed through my brain, and fought another tidal wave of terror. “I don’t know. But we don’t have a choice, do we?”
Brit looked like she wanted to fight, but after only a second I could see her sag a little bit as a defeated look crossed her face. “No, you’re probably right,” she acknowledged in a voice filled with doom. “It’s either stay in and starve, or go out and…”
“Go out and get what we need and run back inside,” I interrupted as an idea formed in my head. “Listen, I think we should go next door… like, right next door, to the neighbor’s house. They should have exactly what we need!”
“Why?”
“Well,” I reasoned as I became more enamored with my plan, “for one thing it’s a pair of ladies and their kids, so there probably won’t be any of… those things… in there. And we could probably score some clothes that’ll fit us… one of the girls is, like, somewhere around our age. I mean, not our age, but our size…”
“I get it,” Brit said with a tiny smile. She glanced up at me under her long, thick eyelashes and I felt my pussy twist as I imagined grasping her wrist and putting her fingers, her long, firm looking digits, straight up inside my oh-so-achingly-empty cunny…
Down, girl! I gave what I hoped was a surreptitious shake of my head to force my thoughts back on track and tried to continue. “Right,” I croaked weakly. “Anyway, less chance of a psycho, and we can get some clothes. And I know that Missy works as a chef at some hotel restaurant, so there’s probably food. And Dawn does some sort of thing with the government, so maybe she might have a gun. We’ll grab some knives, there’s a crowbar in the basement, we can bust in and get what we need.”
“That’ll work. I don’t like it,” she repeated, “but it’s do-able.”
I sighed. “I don’t like it much either,” I replied. “But we don’t have much of a choice. We have to do something…”
I’ll admit it, I stalled… we stalled. Neither one of us wanted to open that front door and step foot outside, especially with those things out there! But my tummy felt so achingly empty and I actually felt a bit on the weak and dizzy side, and based upon Brit’s tiny little dizzy wobble as she clambered off the bed beside me I knew that she too was suffering. We had to do it…
… which explained why I was armed with a dull kitchen knife, standing in my bare feet with a pink grown-up tee-shirt hanging like a tent down to my knees and clutching half a dozen large canvas grocery bags (that I had gotten back when I pretended that I actually cooked at home instead of eating out all the time) under one arm as my blonde lesbian-love partner in crime, clad in an equally tent-like lime-green tee, assisted me in committing felony breaking-and-entering and burglary. “You okay?” I whispered over my shoulder.
“Yeah,” Brit replied as she gave her hand a little shake. “Just had to body-slam the thing to get it open. She sniffed as she brought the crowbar back up to her chest, holding the two-foot long metal rod tightly in her hands like a cross to ward off evil as she stared into the dark maw of the house. “D’ya think anyone heard us?” she asked in a barely audible voice.
We strained to hear, but beyond the distant sirens still blaring in the city and the sounds of sporadic gunfire – and the far more disturbing sounds of the occasional explosion – we didn’t hear anything over the rustling of the leaves on the trees. I glanced up the hill towards the crest, taking note of how the wind seemed to roll downhill and past us, making a bee-line straight for downtown – a hot, almost angry wind that cause prickles of sweat to dot my forehead but did absolutely nothing to dissipate the smoggy smoke that seemed to hang over everything like a shroud. “I don’t think so,” I finally said. “I think we’re okay.”
“Okay then.” Brit looked at me, and I looked at her… and then we both glanced at the broken, ajar door for a moment before moving back to the other. “This feels weird,” she whispered.
“I know,” I agreed. I took a deep breath, steeled my nerves, and slowly pushed the door open with one hand as I brandished the knife before me. “Hello?” I called softly as I took a half-step inside, trying hard not to trip on anything while peering ahead, behind to each side, above and below and every single direction all at once.
“Hello?” Brit echoed as she slipped in beside me. With one hand she pushed the door back closed as best as she could, considering the splintered latch and lock. “Anyone home?” she added as she hip-checked the wooden panel gently, trying in vain to secure the now-warped wood.
“Penny?” I called a little louder. “Shay?” I took another step, and then another, straining to hear anything… and beyond the heavy TOCK-TOCK-TOCK of the grandfather clock I knew was in their family room I heard nothing. “I think we’re alone,” I decided as I relaxed just a tick.
“Yeah,” Brit agreed. I saw her peering at everything around her with wide blue eyes, taking in the expensive antique furniture in the entryway, the richly-colored tile floor, the elegant designs on the wall. I didn’t know either Penny or Shay very well – we both moved in very different circles, and as a result our interactions were limited to the waving as one of us drove away or the occasional ‘I’m-going-out-of-town-can-you-pick-up-the-mail?’ conversation. I had gone over to their house a couple of Christmases ago for a party and remembered drinking way too much while Shay droned on about the NeoLatin roots of their décor – but at that moment interior design was the furthest thing from my mind. “Nice place,” the blonde continued in a neutral voice.
“Too fancy for me,” I replied. I took a shuffling half-step forward and peered around an arch and into the empty kitchen, and then glanced into another one leading to the living room. “They had to have a cleaning woman come in, like, three times a week.”
“It shows.” I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see Brit sliding her fingers along a distressed table that I suspected cost more than I had made last year, and then she joined me. “So what’s the plan?” she asked.
“Stay together?” I suggested – and hoped that my voice wasn’t displaying the nervous tension that I was feeling at that moment. “Safety in numbers, get what we need quicker…” I added lamely. “Maybe. I don’t know…” I glanced around, wishing that I didn’t feel so scared. “I have no idea. How do burglars do it?”
“Dunno,” she replied with a nervous shrug. Brit stared at me for what felt like a heartbeat or three, her eyes scanning my face for just an instant before she nodded. “Food first?”
“Okay.”
We slowly slipped through the arch and into the kitchen, our senses – well, mine, at least – cranked up to ten as I tried to sense anything out of the ordinary. I heard a hiss as my companion grabbed my attention and gave me a gentle poke in the ribs with a surprisingly sharp elbow. I glanced at her, and then at what she was pointing the crowbar at… and saw a hamper filled to overflowing with what looked like children’s clothing! “Score!” she stage-whispered in triumph, hopping a bit with happiness at her discovery. The blonde grabbed one of the bags from under my arm and scampered over, not even trying to be neat as she started stuffing whatever fell into her hand into the canvas carryall.
I glanced behind us to make sure we were still alone, and then took an experimental sniff… and promptly crinkled my nose. The entire kitchen had a musty, sour smell of unwashed girl, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that most of the clothes in the hamper were unwashed. “Ew,” I muttered as moved past Brit and over to the refrigerator. “Smells dirty,” I remarked.
“Not all of ‘em,” the blonde replied as she scooped up a small stack of neatly-folded little-girl panties. “Besides, we can wash them. They’re our size, and I’m tired of running around half-naked.” Brit gently shook out a crumpled bright pink tee with a pair of Disney characters, one with black hair and one a platinum blonde, smirking out at me. “Don’t you think I’d look extra-cute in this thing?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye.
“Cute?” I asked back as I raised one eyebrow and gave her a look.
“Well, it’s not like I can hit up a designer boutique these days,” she replied, “even if they made something in my size. Which they probably don’t.” Brit shrugged and stuffed it into her bag, and then finished emptying out the hamper. “When all this calms down we’ll have to go clothes shopping.”
“Do you honestly think that things will ever be the same?” I asked in a somewhat morose tone as I pulled open the fridge. As the cool air washed over me I felt my eyes widen – and my tummy rumble – at the veritable smorgasbord inside. Score! “Hungry?” I added quietly.
“Yeah!” Brit abandoned the clothes momentarily and joined me at the fridge, peering inside for a moment before grabbing a block of cheese. For an instant I thought she was going to just tear through the plastic baggie with her teeth but instead she tore it open, broke the semi-firm brick of white gloriousness in half, and handed one part over to me as she crammed the other into her mouth. “Oh God,” she mumbled as she chewed, “this is so good!” I would have replied but I was busy making my own tiny mini-orgasmic noises at the taste of Monterey Jack exploding on my tongue. It was the hunger, definitely, but the taste of the cheese was quite simply the most incredible thing that I had ever tasted! “Ooh, pot stickers!” she murmured in a throaty lover’s voice as she gently hip-checked me aside and snatched up a plastic container spotty with condensation on the inside of the lid.
“How can you tell?” I asked as I snagged the white cardboard container of leftovers and pried open the lid with my thumb to reveal shrimp lo mien. Heedless of any sort of propriety I used my fingers to scoop up a handful and crammed the cold, utterly delectable concoction into my mouth.
“A girl just knows,” Brit mumbled around the pork-and-gingery goodness wadded in one cheek. She chewed like she hadn’t eaten in a year, swallowed heavily, and polished off the last one in a single bite. “’K, that’s what I needed,” she added with a wicked and somewhat greasy grin. “See if they’ve got any spare ribs in there, I’m calling dibs. I’m gonna pop upstairs to see if there’s anything we could use.”
“Be careful,” I warned as I wolfed down another handful of noodles. “And if I find any spare ribs I’m eatin’ ‘em.”
“You can’t do that,” she shot back over her shoulder with a smirk. “I called dibs.”
“You can’t call dibs on spare ribs!” I insisted with an equally saucy grin.
“I just did!” her voice ghosted back as she moved back into the entry hall and up the stairs.
“Dibs on spare ribs,” I muttered. I don’t fucking think so… I tossed all etiquette aside and upended the container, letting gravity move the last bits of lo mien into my mouth. I dropped the empty on the counter and cast about for a towel or something to wipe the grease off my hands – no need to be a total barbarian, thank you very much! – and then I spotted it and felt my heart skip a beat…
I wasn’t any sort of whiz in the kitchen, that much should be pretty obvious. But I knew that the thing I was looking at was a French-style rolling pin, so called because it was just a single round dowel-shaped piece of wood. This one was made out of a dark, polished grain, was almost two feet long, and was about two inches thick in the middle while tapering to a little over an inch at the ends. I knew what it was, knew what it was for… but right then, right in the middle of our little looting expedition, I could feel my pussy starting to slick up as I stared at the thing. It was inexplicable, but somehow, for some reason, all I could think of as I stared at the thing was how it would feel if I pushed it into my little-girl slit. Stop it! I angrily told myself as I shook my head firmly, slid out the small mini-step ladder wedged between the fridge and the counter so that I could reach the high places, and turned my attention back towards the cupboards. Stop being a perverted whore! “Get the food, get the clothes, and get back to the house,” I muttered as I grabbed about a half-dozen boxed, pre-packaged pasta meals from the cupboard above and shoved them into a bag. “You don’t have time to deal with being a pervert!” Next shelf down, nothing really but spices – but what the hell, I shoved a few things I recognized into a bag, and intended to move on.
And then my gaze fell back down onto the rolling pin, and the urge to grab it, to work it into my six-year-old pussy, to fill myself up and stretch myself out and satisfy the dark, embarrassing cravings that were coursing through my body hit me again, even harder than before. A glance over my shoulder told me that Brit was still elsewhere in the house, so I allowed my hand to drift down and my fingertips to stroke the thing – and stifled a shudder of pure sexual desire as I felt it’s hard, smooth, waxy surface. I could feel the wetness of my own girly juices oozing down my thighs and my nipples felt hard enough to cut glass, and I shuddered as I tried to stifle a moan of pure need. I imagined myself back on the couch, naked, my legs thrown open wide as I gripped the thing and worked it into my body… and then just as quickly the scene shifted to the bed and I was nude, and my wrists were tied behind my back, and it was Brit who was shoving the rolling pin into my straining pussy and I was helpless to stop her from doing anything to me... “Fuck,” I whispered as I stroked the tool again, simultaneously aroused and disturbed by my fantasies. I spared one last glance over my shoulder and then frowned – somehow the knowledge that my little blonde whatever-she-was was still gone managed to work its way through my sexual fog, and that helped me to focus. “Where is she?” I muttered as I clambered down off the stepladder, gathered up my prizes… and then, after only a split-second’s hesitation, I slid the rolling pin into one of the bags.
“Insane, you’re fucking insane,” I hissed at myself as I tried not to blush in shame-fueled lust and forced myself to focus on my amateur looting. Some tubes of biscuit dough went into a bag, some fruit, bottles of sauces, filled to capacity. The freezer gave up about half a dozen tubs of something leftovers, some frozen fruit, ice cream, filled. I grabbed without hesitation, without considering what I was grabbing… mainly to keep my mind away from my twisted desires. Everything I saw with wide eyes, everything I touched with trembling fingers, everything in the kitchen caused a small, sick part of me to wonder how it would feel if I masturbated with it. I felt my cheeks and neck flush as my gaze glanced over an eggplant in a little basket on the kitchen island, large and purple and bulbous and firm, and the sick part of me wondered if I could somehow manage to cram it in me. “Stop it,” I muttered as I purposefully turned my back on it and instead crouched down to check out the cupboards beneath it. “Just stop, stop being such a pervert!”
Within a few more minutes I had managed to do all that I could in the kitchen, not because I had looted everything that I could but rather because I had filled all the bags to capacity and couldn’t carry any more. “Brit?” I called softly as I situated the bags at my feet, two on either side of me, and peered into the dim entry hall. She didn’t respond, but I could hear the faint sounds of movement elsewhere in the house – and though I consciously knew that it was my blonde partner-in-crime, the animal part of my consciousness sent a spike of nervous fear arcing through my brain. “Brit?!?” I hissed a little more forcefully as my fingers found the hilt of my knife and the movement sounds came closer. “Say something!”
I needn’t have worried… My companion slid into the kitchen on quiet feet, a wide smile creasing her face and two full-looking bags held in each hand. “This place is fucking amaze-balls!” she remarked happily. She dropped her bags at her feet and almost bounced up and down in excitement as her hands fluttered in front of her, looking for all the world like an excited little girl on Christmas – which I suppose, given our predicament, she was. “I found so much stuff upstairs that I couldn’t carry it all, and…”
“Don’t wander away like that!” The second that the words left my mouth I felt a flash of embarrassment at the faint whine in my voice, and I think that it was only because I was backed up against the island that I didn’t stamp my foot in frustration. “Or say something when I call! I didn’t know where you were…”
“Aw, you scared for me? That’s so sweet!” she replied in a bit of a mocking voice that was tempered by her devil-may-care grin and kind eyes. The blonde placed her palm on my shoulder and gave it a little squeeze, I think to take the sting out of her words as much as anything else. “Afraid that I met someone else?”
The touch of her fingertips actually caused a twitch in of arousal in my pelvis, and I felt my annoyance melt away. “Just don’t scare me like that, ‘k?” I asked in a plaintive tone.
“Okay, fine. But it was so worth it, you’re gonna love what I found! I…”
From outside we heard a titanic crash that shook the house around us, and we froze as the rumbling rolled on and on before it died down to return to the ominous silence. My heart thudded in my chest as I looked at Brit and she stared at me, and I could see her pale slightly as the blood drained from her face. “I think we’ve overstayed our welcome,” I stage-whispered as grabbed four of the bags and glanced through the plate-glass door to their porch. “We gotta go.”
“I hear that.” Laden down with our booty, we staggered back to the front door and cracked the panel back open. Everything looked the same outside – whatever had exploded had either done so out of our sight or was truly massive and far away – so after another half-second to screw up our courage we slipped outside. Brit started back across the lawn as I tugged the door slightly closed behind me, and then I joined her just a few feet behind. Just another couple of seconds, nothing to see here…
We were less than half-way back home with only my driveway and another fifty feet of grass to go, when our luck ran out. To our right there came a snarl of pure animal fury, and I stumbled slightly as I whipped my head around to spot one of those things charging at us from across the street! “Fuck!” Brit yelped as I regained my balance and trebled my speed, joining the tiny blonde in a mad dash for my front door.
“Go!” I screamed, shocked at how tiny and young and terrified my voice was. “Run!” We got another ten feet but it was obvious that the madman was much, much faster than we were and we weren’t going to make it in time. I spun and continued to stumble backwards as I dropped my load and grabbed my knife, while Brit shifted everything to her left hand while she brandished her crowbar in her right. We had no choice, we had to fight even though I knew it was a totally losing proposition…
He… it… might have been human, once. But whatever it had been was long gone, and in its humanity’s place there was nothing but madness and rage. I felt a flash of annoyance at the sheer unfairness of it all – when the whatever-it-was happened both Brit and I had been transformed into six-year-olds, while the thing lunging at us had gotten a winning lottery ticket. It was tall, lean, and muscular, looking like a dreamy version of a teenage girl’s wet dream, all ribbed abs and broad shoulders and long hair. But then the dream turned into a nightmare when you added the blood spatters and smears covering its nude body, the huge, raging cock that seemed almost the throb menacingly at me – and the madness in its eyes, the complete lack of anything even resembling humanity. I felt terrified, I felt horny, I felt disturbed and sickened and unsure and embarrassed and submissive as every emotion in my little-girl soul flashed through me in a heartbeat and the world slowed to a crawl…
Ten feet, nine, eight, the thing snarled like a wolf as it lunged at Brit! My girlfirend screamed in fear as she spun and brandished her crowbar at the thing, but she caught her heel on a small divot in the grass and fell back on her ass as her treasures tumbled to the lawn. Without even thinking I slashed at the thing, cutting into its side with the blade of my knife and drawing blood as I shrieked in terror. The thing didn’t even hesitate but spun on its heel, lashing out at me and moving as fast as a bolt of lightning as it backhanded me across the face! The impact of its knuckles on the side of my head sent me flying backwards a good five feet, laying me out on the grass just like Brit. I lost my grip on the knife and instead scrambled to find something to use and gripped the rolling pin as the thing leapt atop me, half-knocking the wind out of my lungs as his full and considerable body weight pinned me to the ground. I didn’t even remember bringing up my wooden defender but I did and shoved it in the thing’s mouth as it clawed at my neck and shoulders, its uncut fingernails cutting gouges into my throat and shredding my tee as it tried to force its mouth down and the world swam before my eyes as one flailing demon hand hit mine and the pin dug into the dirt by my head and it leaned down and I couldn’t breathe and I felt the thing’s massive cock pressing against my belly and it would feel so good why don’t I just surrender and give it what it wants give it what I want…
And then suddenly everything changed! The thing reared back up, stiffening as it howled in pain/rage as its flailing hand left me and instead tried to reach over its own shoulders. The opportunity gave my rational brain a chance to regain control and I scrabbled backwards out from under the thing as Brit grabbed my tee – tearing it a bit more and exposing a bit more of my flat chest, of course – and helped pull me loose, screaming at me as I tried to hear through the thudding of my pulse in my ears. “C’mon!” she yelled as she grabbed two still-mostly-full bags of girly clothes and one grocery bag of food, and I grabbed the other bag and a pair of tiny shoes as we raced for my front door. A glance over my shoulder gave me a scene where my attacker was convulsing face-down on the ground with the blade of my lost knife buried to the hilt in its back but there was a second one a black-skinned thing with a cock as big as my forearm bearing down on us and I banged my toes on the porch as I tripped and body-checked Brit and we tumbled through the unlocked door, falling to the entryway floor with our prizes spilling everywhere as the new monster charged and snarled! I kicked at the door with the heel of my bruised foot and Brit scrambled up to shut it fully and she threw the lock…
Brit threw herself backwards with a squeak of terror as the thing slammed full-body against the door and both of us backpedaled. I stared at the portal as the creature threw itself against it a second time, and then a third, but the door held tight, and I felt my trembles ebb and fade away. “We’re safe, I think we did it,” Brit gasped.
I tore my attention from the door and fixed my gaze on the blonde. Brit’s face was flushed and her eyes had a wide-open wildness that made it seem like they took up half her face. The green tee was half-ripped off her body, and she absentmindedly pulled the torn end back up to cover her chest with one hand. There was a splash of red running from her waist up to her hairline, and with a start of shock I realized that it was the bloody spray from when she stabbed the thing in the back. I felt a flash of guilt that she had been forced to save me, forced to kill, all in the name of rescuing me. “Th… thank you,” I stammered as I too gasped for air.
“Welcome,” she replied. She swallowed heavily as the other thing threw itself against the door, and then leaned against the wall and sagged to the floor weakly. She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye and quirked up one corner of her mouth. “Well, that was fun,” she remarked, her words containing a hint of sarcasm. “Let’s not do that again, ‘k? At least, not until we’re a lot more ready for it.”
“Deal.” I joined her in sagging to the floor, careful not to burst into tears. We had accomplished our mission, had gotten enough food to last for a few more days and some clothing that might actually fit us. We had been forced to fight, yes, but our little trip had been a success. But I was still sad.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the broken rolling pin out on the grass, and felt a strange, profound sense of loss at the thought that I would never enjoy the feeling of it sliding up inside my always needy pussy. That, I think, made me more upset than the fact that there were cannibal rapists outside who wanted to rape and murder me.
Or the fact that a tiny little microscopic part of me wanted to let them.
I closed the lid of the washer and heard the heavy flow of water start to fill the drum, and then turned my attention back to the remaining clothes piled atop the dryer next to it. The light bulbs illuminating the basement of my house were not exactly bright, and the small six-inch windows did little to chase away the gloom. Yet I wasn’t nervous, wasn’t afraid – yes, there were long shadows and pools of inky darkness in the corners, but I was calm and collected. If I had to guess I would have to say that my comfortable feelings stemmed from two important facts… one, I knew that my house was secure and that there were absolutely none of those things down there, and (perhaps more importantly) two, for the first time in days, I was wearing a properly-fitting pair of panties once again! It was a start…
After catching our breaths and letting our pulses drop down to somewhere around human level, we forced ourselves to deal with our ill-gotten loot. We stashed the food in the fridge and freezer and piled it on the counter – neither of us felt energetic enough to pull out the step-ladder and actually put things in cabinets! – and then unpacked our purloined clothes. There was a small stack of clean panties, six in total… tiny little white things that sported a cutesy miniscule pink bow on the waistband in the front, clearly designed to be worn by someone well under the age of ten which, when I thought about it, was so clearly us. But everything else was filthy – from the little-girl tank-tops and tees, to the little-girl shorts, to the jeans that looked as if they would fit Brit like a glove and actually be a bit baggy on me, to another four pairs of panties, the stink of unwashed pre-teen girl was almost overwhelming. “Yeah, this all has to get washed,” I said as I wrinkled my nose and picked up a black tee-shirt with a cartoon kitten declaring that the wearer was Purr-fect! emblazoned across the front.
“I also found shoes,” Brit added with a smile as she pulled out two pairs, one pair of scuffed white sneakers, the other a pair of shiny white dressy lace-ups, and set them proudly on my kitchen island.
“Smart,” I commented with a nod of respect. I paused for a second as a wave of terror – obviously an aftereffect of our encounter with our two playmates outside – washed through me, and I gripped the edge of the island to keep from sinking to the floor. “I’m okay,” I said with as much brightness as I could muster when Brit fixed me with a concerned look. “Just… a little freaked out, after…”
“Yeah, that kinda sucked,” she agreed. She glanced down her body and took a quick touch-check of the side of her face… and when her fingertips came back sticky with the thing’s drying blood, she paled a bit. “I think,” she said in a strangled, wavering tone, “that I’m gonna hit up the shower. Like, right now,” she added as she backed out of the kitchen.
“’K,” I called after her as I grabbed two of the bags and refilled them with filthy girl-clothes. “I’ll get some laundry started.” Brit didn’t answer, but I didn’t begrudge her too much – after all, if I were coated with psycho rapist blood, I’d probably want to scrub my skin until I took the top dozen or so layers off as well.
Navigating the basement stairs was a lesson in adapting considering just how tiny I now was, but I managed to make it down with only a single instance where I felt like I was going to trip over my own clumsy feet fall face-first, smashing my face against every step as I bounced down to the concrete floor below. The bare bulb overhead did little to chase away the shadows, but I wasn’t nervous and instead merely focused on my task. I debated for a second actually doing it right – separating the lights from the darks, doing two loads – when I instead grunted, started the washer, and began to dump things in without sorting. I did indulge myself by snagging one of the clean pairs of panties, which I immediately slipped up my legs to cover my shame… and then made my second executive decision in as many seconds. I stripped off my oversized, ruined, grass- and blood-stained tee, tossed the rag away from me like it was on fire, and selected a white ribbed tank-top from the bottom of the hamper. It was filthy, it smelled of some other little girl – but I immediately felt a thousand times better once I slipped it over my nude torso! Not perfect, I acknowledged as I tried to tug it down a bit… it wasn’t too tight, but it was a bit on the short side, coming down to just barely in the neighborhood of my navel and leaving a wide strip of exposed belly-flesh open to the air. But it’s a DAMN sight better than what I was wearing before! “You are so gonna be mine,” I said almost lovingly as I stroked the fabric.
I knew I was focusing in on the clothes because I needed the distraction – but once the laundry started whirring in the washer, the same old terrors came roaring back into my brain. The attack of the thing outside had freaked me out, continued to freak me out… not because of the threat to my health, but rather because of my arousal when the thing was on top of me. Did I want that thing to rape me? I wondered. I don’t think so. But the idea of that thing shoving his huge cock inside of me, forcing me to take it all and filling me up so completely, combined with the fact that I almost seemed to want it in the moment, now that terrified me! The thought that I didn’t know if I would be willing to risk getting killed just to get fucked…
I can’t deal with this. I’m sick, I’m twisted. I just… can’t. “Be normal,” I hissed to myself as the washer stopped filling and the agitator started whooshing. “Be normal, don’t be sick. Act normal, and you’ll be normal.” I took a deep breath, then another… and then climbed back up the stairs with a pair of panties for Brit clutched in my tiny hand.
The house felt stuffy, and for a moment I had to fight the urge to open up a window. Don’t want anything coming in, I decided as I stepped through doorway into kitchen. I was happy that we now have food for a few days, but at the same time I was sad that my rolling pin had vanished in the fight. It was weird – it almost felt like I was obsessed with the thing, like my life would be incomplete unless I was able to cram it into my pussy! “What’s wrong with me?” I whispered as I felt an overwhelming wave of shame and embarrassment wash over me. It felt like all I could think about since my transformation was sex, was cramming huge things into my little-girl body and cumming over and over again. Sick, I’m sick, I moaned silently as I leaned against the island counter and tried not to sob in humiliation.
“Hey, Lei!” Brit called from the bedroom.
I gave one last sniff, wiped my teary eyes with the back of one hand, and tried to put a damper on my emotions. “Yeah?” I called back.
“C’mere,” she replied. “I wanna show you something!”
Now what? I wasn’t annoyed, but then again I wasn’t really curious… the idea of one more nasty surprise made me more than a little nervous. “Coming!” I said. Just pretend… I pushed off the island and made my way down the hall to the bedroom, my bare feet padding silently on the carpet as I moved. “Hey,” I began in a bright tone I forced myself to adopt as I slipped into the bedroom, “I brought you some panties, everything else is in the wash…”
“Sure, thanks,” she replied. I grew just a bit suspicious at her bright, almost bubbly tone as the naked blonde half-turned and graced me with a wicked look in her eyes. “I wasn’t able to tell you before, ‘cause we were so rushed, but I think we hit the jackpot over there!”
“Yeah? What…” I stopped when she stepped aside and my gaze fell upon the items neatly laid out on the long, low dresser, stunned into silence at what I saw. Evidently while I had been busy falling in love with the rolling pin at Penny and Shay’s, Brit had been raiding their toy chest upstairs. She had pushed aside my jewelry box and the knick-knacks that I had accumulated over the years and had laid out, from the smallest on the left to the largest on the right, dildos and vibrators ranging in size from a tiny little two-inch buzzer to a two foot long double-headed monster that was easily over two inches thick. “Oh my God,” I whispered in shock as I stared, just gaped with my mouth hanging open like an idiot, at the bounty arrayed before me.
“I thought you might like ‘em,” the former porn star smirked. I was barely aware of her as she slid on over beside me and slid her arm around my back. “I figured that if we’re gonna continue to have these… ah… feelings, we might want to have something on hand to help. I just lucked out when I found these things.” I almost felt her glance at me for a moment before she turned her attention back to the sex toys. “See something you like?” she asked lightly.
I did… Oh GOD how I did! It felt like I got hotter each time I looked at a new toy, imagining how they would feel filling me up. Three of them leapt out at me immediately – a white, ribbed six-inch vibrator that was shaped like a bullet and looked wonderfully hard, a slightly curved glassy thing that was clear and had these raised bumps along the shaft that looked like they would do wonderful things to my little cunny, and this black realistic-looking thing that was easily ten inches long and about two inches wide. But the double-headed monster caused me to fall in love instantly… about two feet long, it was massive and heavy and it looked as if it would tear me open if I tried even thinking about putting it inside of me! “Where did you…”
“Next door, from the toy chest under their bed.” The blonde girl fixed me with a look, almost as if she was wondering about my intelligence. “Seriously, they were two middle-aged women living in a house in the Hollywood hills with elegant furnishings and no men around. You had no idea they were lesbians?”
“I… never really thought about it.” Really, I hadn’t! I had no excuse to give, only that I had evidently been so wrapped up in my own dramas that it didn’t even occur to me to wonder. I had a quick flash of toys sliding into pussies that only lasted for a split-second, but it made sense – and even though I was mesmerized by the toys and still trying to readjust Penny and Shay in my mental List of People I Know, I could still sense her standing very close behind me. Very, very close. “Why…”
“Look,” she interrupted, and I could feel her warm breath on the back of my neck as she wrapped her arms around me from behind. “I kinda knew that you…” She stopped, swallowed heavily, and when she started again I could hear a tinge of uncertainty in her voice. “I… We’re… This thing that made us young again, it’s pretty clear that it also has made us… well…”
“Perverts?” I whispered as I stiffened in her arms, my voice filled with shocked horror. She KNOWS…
“Well, I was going to say ‘more adventurous,’” she replied with a tiny tremor of humor in her words. “Don’t be embarrassed, I kinda knew what was happening. This thing that made us little girls again also did a lot more to us. I’m…” She swallowed heavily, and her voice took on a bit of a nervous tone as she swallowed. “We’re, like, horny all the time!”
“Right!” I squirmed around in her arms until I had turned and could face her, putting my own arms around her waist. The room felt surprisingly warm – or maybe it was the fact that I was in a tiny pair of panties and a slightly-too-small tank top, and she was naked as a jaybird, and we were holding each other like… like… “Everything I seem to look at, I wonder if…” I stammered.
“You wonder if you could use it to get off,” she finished. She smiled a small, gentle smile, almost as if she were filled with sympathy for my ‘condition’ and just wanted me to feel better. “I could kinda tell,” she admitted. “I mean, the wine bottle from yesterday, ‘n why you’d grab that rolling pin instead of more food while we were next door…”
I felt embarrassed and relieved at the same time, grateful that she understood – and that she wasn’t giving me any shit about it! “I just can’t help it,” I sniffed as I buried my face in her shoulder. “There’s… I just… I need to do it, it’s like there’s this thing in me that…”
“Shh!” Brit nudged my face up and placed two fingertips on my lips, stopping my cascade of words. “It’s okay! Don’t worry about it, I won’t tell.” She glanced over her shoulder at the toys, and then back at me. “I just wanted to help you out, so that you don’t have to keep hiding it. I got those for you, so that maybe you won’t have to…”
“Thank you!” I hugged her tight, squeezing her tiny body firmly as I felt a wave of relief wash over me. She knew, and she’s okay with it!!! I pulled back, opening my mouth to express my gratitude, tell her just how much I so appreciated her, when our eyes met. Hers were just so blue, so cool and icy and pretty all at the same time, her pupils dark warm pools that almost seemed to draw me in. At the same time she was gazing deep into my eyes, and I could only hope that she saw something similar in my gold-flecked green orbs. The words died in my throat, I don’t know why, and instead of speaking I leaned forward and let my lips meet hers. Brit’s lips were soft and slightly puffy and tasted wonderful, like salty-sweet goodness that made me moan a little bit in the back of my throat, and I felt my eyes fluttering shut as she kissed me back. Almost instinctively our mouths opened and our tongues ventured forth, each seeking and playing and fencing with their counterparts, and as we made out I could feel my girlfriend’s hands sliding down my back, past the strip of bare flesh that the tank top failed to cover and down to cup my ass cheeks through the sheer cotton of my panties. She felt warm through my clothes, and the warmth of her body made my arousal spike. It was amazing, stunning just how turned on the one-time porn star was making me, and I wanted, needed to do more! I broke our kiss almost reluctantly and gazed deep into her eyes as my will surrendered to what I knew was the inevitable. “Please, you’ve done so much for me, with everything,” I whispered as I stroked her bare back, my fingertips gliding along her smooth flesh. “Can I… I want to…”
Brit smiled softly and gave me another kiss. “Okay,” she whispered. She took half a step back and slid her hands up to my shoulders, gently increasing the pressure and encouraging me to kneel before her with my face hovering right in front of her hairless mound. I could see everything… not that there was much to see, beyond a field of soft, white flesh and the tiniest of clefts between her thighs. “Go ahead,” she encouraged in a light, breathy voice as she stroked the back of my head, “do it. You know you want to, make me cum…”
I didn’t even hesitate… Almost as if I were in a daze I leaned forward, nestled my chin between her slightly splayed thighs, and spread her slit with my fingertips. I couldn’t exactly see but I didn’t need to, and I flicked my tongue out to run it up between the lips of her pussy once, twice, three times, before increasing the tempo. Brit moaned and fell backwards onto the mattress as her legs gave out and I wormed forward in response, not letting that glorious girl-cunt taste escape me for an instant as I wedged her thighs apart with my shoulders and wormed my tongue inside of her. She tasted good – different from me but delicious, a heady, musky tang that sent a shiver down my spine. Oh God I’m eating her out I’m eating pussy… I was operating on pure instinct, doing to her what I would want to have done to me, and I spent a couple of seconds working her clit before diving back inside of her, tasting her, feeling her sex on my lips.
As I looked up her body I watched as Brit arched her back and moaned, and then managed to prop herself on one tiny hand as she peered down at me. Our eyes met, and I could see the desire, the sheer sexual lust shining deep in her blue orbs. “Do it, yeah, do it!” she begged in encouragement as she stroked my hair. “Eat me, eat my cunt, make me cum! Oh fuck, make me cum you little slut!”
Before, her words might have offended me – but there, in that moment, they felt like a lover’s caress to my very soul, and with each plea, each name I felt myself becoming hornier and hornier. I surrendered to the feelings coursing through my pre-teen body, surrendered to Brit, and I knew that I wanted nothing more than to fulfill her wishes, to make her cum. I slid one hand up to work her clit with my thumb as I let her little-girl slit close around my tongue and dropped the other to my hot, wet, drooling pussy. I felt a flash of annoyance that my brand-new clean panties were already soaked with my arousal, but that only lasted a split-second as I brought my stiff fingertips onto the sodden cotton and worked my own clit with wild, firm, furious strokes. Brit grabbed a handful of my hair and held my face in place as she shivered and moaned, but I didn’t care – all wanted to do was to please her!
The blonde writhed beneath my tongue, and I glanced up to see her staring down at me, her eyes wide and glittering, her face and flat chest flushed with desire as she moaned through her slightly parted lips. “Take… take off your panties,” she gasped, pausing only to lick her lips as she stared at me with something akin to hunger, “and get up here! I wanna eat you out at the same time…”
Yesssss… Now that was an order that I was only too willing, eager to obey. I rose to my feet, pulling my panties down my legs as I moved, and practically fly onto the bed, falling into Brit’s open, waiting arms. She kissed me and I kissed her back, and I felt her hands tugging the tank top up my slim body, and I was only too happy to arch my back and raise my arms enough to help her strip me just as naked as she was. She felt soft and warm, her skin smooth as silk as I ran my hands over her chest, her belly, her hips, her thighs, and I moaned into her mouth as I felt her caressing me gently as well. She held me close as she rolled me over, onto my back, our lips parting with a wet smack as whimpering moans of pure passion oozed from our throats. Rising to a kneeling position she turned around, carefully placed her knees on either side of my head (kneeling on my hair and pulling at the roots painfully, but it only added to my furious lust!), and lowered her face to my cunny. Her pussy was floating right above me, a dark slit that oozed a tiny bit of clearish-white juice, and with a moan of desire I buried my tongue back inside of her. At the same time I could feel her hot breath on my own drooling cunt, could feel her spreading me open with her fingertips, and the touch of her tongue on my sex sent a blast of electric energy arcing through my immature body!
I worked her clit with my thumb, worked her inner pink flesh with my tongue, did everything I could do to get her off even as I felt her doing the same thing to my cunny. I felt Brit tense above me and a hot, wet, sticky wetness flowing down my tongue and into my mouth, and the knowledge that I had made her cum with just my tongue made me cum, and I let myself go as I crashed over the edge into the glorious oblivion that awaited me. Deep inside my belly I could feel my entire womb clench, the glorious orgasmic sensation that sent me spiraling towards the darkness that awaited me, and then I felt it again, and again and harder, and I can’t remember being able to think of anything more as my entire existence shrank to the roiling tidal wave of sheer pleasure coursing through my six-year-old body, and in that moment any feelings of shame vanished forever to be replaced with adoration.
Slowly, ever-so-slowly I returned to my trembling form and reality. I lay on the mattress and gasped for air, my mind awhirl with the sensations flowing through my body – sensations that were kept at a low roiling boil by Brit, who continued to lap at my slit. With an almost intensity she wormed her tongue between the sensitive folds of my sex, stabbing deep as she lost herself in the task of consuming every drop of my girly cum. With gentle fingers I stroked the smooth flesh of her flat, little-girl backside and managed to somehow raise my head to worm my tongue inside of her, matching her lap for lap. I pried her open with my thumbs and was rewarded with the slow flow of her juices oozing past my lips and into my mouth, a heady brew that made me almost shiver with another orgasm right them. I felt her slow and allowed myself to relax as she rolled off from on top of me, turned, and nestled herself right in the crook of my arm, peering down at me with a satisfied, well-fucked smile. “Doing okay?” she asked softly as she stroked my exposed belly with her fingertips.
“I came,” I whispered, my voice sounding almost shocked in my own ears as I trembled in post-orgasmic joy. “You made me eat your pussy, and I came!”
“Yeah, I did. And I ate you out, and I came.” She smiled softly and kissed me again, and I tasted me on her lips just as I tasted her on my tongue, and we both combined in my mouth to create a wonderful feminine musk that tore a tiny shiver from my body. Her tongue met mine and we kissed as lovers, kissed for what I wished was for an eternity but was probably only for half a minute. Her hand stroking my hip, my hand caressing her sweat-slicked back, it was perfect! “I figured that you owed me,” she added with a bit of a wicked grin when she broke our kiss, “y’know… For before…”
“I do, I did,” I instinctively replied, and I was surprised to find that my words were serious. I propped myself up on one hand as I gently placed my other on her chest above her stiff, perky nipples, and stared straight into her brilliant sapphire eyes. “I… You know what I want, what I need, I just…” I searched my soul, groping for the perfect words and realizing that there weren’t any that could possibly relate how I felt, and I just decided to say it, say what I felt to be true. “I.. . I’m yours, just tell me what to do, I’ll do it. Please…”
Beside me I felt Brit stiffen, and a shocked look flashed across her face for a second before her feelings vanished behind veiled eyes. She merely stared at me for a few heartbeats, and I thought that I had blown it, that I had tried to move too far too fast and that I scared her off, but her gentle caress of my side just below my tank reassured me a bit. “Well,” she slowly replied, her voice a throaty, husky little-girl growl as a small smile grew across her face, “I think…”
I never found out what she was going to say. The entire house shook as a titanic BOOM! roared outside, an explosion that was so intense that it almost knocked us off the bed and actually cracked one of the walls of the bedroom!
