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Your modestly sized ship came to a halt, with your expert manoeuvring tucking it away into a small hiding amongst the shoreline only you knew about. You had supplies, enough to last hopefully long enough until you could iron things out with Balalaika. Maybe buy her off, or even promise servitude in the future, whatever it took to get that woman off your back because of the “Cargo” you were carrying. Said cargo sitting on a nearby chair, idly kicking her legs as she stared out into the crisp and dazzling blue ocean that your vessel gentle bobbed in.
Gretel. That was her name. Though you were already familiar with her for rather unsavoury reasons you kept to yourself for now, unsavoury reasons that drove you to rescuing her and offering safety when she and her late brother were being hunted down.
You glanced at her out of the corner of your eye as you powered down your vessel. In truth, she was absolutely gorgeous, simply divine. Long silky looking voluminous white hair that flowed naturally and flared out, atop an adorable bow. A round face that was appropriately youthful for a girl as immature as herself, at least physically, for those equally as round and soft grey eyes betrayed an almost feral desire for bloodlust underneath. That BAR she clung to, something damn near as big as her, like a favourite toy was not for show. You had seen her use it, and it was a wonder how a little girl could so effortlessly wield such a large firearm.
Her choice of attire was as equally resplendent, a green gothic Lolita dress of numerous frills and layers, and on top of it she wore a green cropped coat with frills at the end of the sleeves. A chest window showed off her entirely flat torso, a glimpse into her scrumptious prepubescent body, and tying it all together figuratively and literally was a black ribbon.
The entire ensemble of her gothic attire combined with her almost ethereal beauty with that soft pale skin created a child that could very well be passed off as a doll, her body underdeveloped and likely would barely mature due to her upbringing, her visage smooth and flawless in its splendour. It all came together to make a girl who was simply radiant, juxtaposed by the imposing machine gun she clung to like a lifeline.
Yeah, it was pretty obvious why you had saved her from being hunted down at the risk of your own life, and what kind of person that made you-
She was looking at you.
Gretel was no longer looking aimlessly out at the ocean that gently lapped at your vessel but was now looking directly at you as you stared at her from the corner of your gaze from your captain’s seat. She wore a small smile upon her rosy, pink lips, one that was far from the gleeful little smile of innocence a child her age should be wearing. It was the smile of a predator who was already steps ahead of her prey (You) and was determining what the best way to eat you was.
You may be an adult male, stronger and more capable physically than this preteen child. But you were still certain that you were locked in here with Gretel now, and that if she so wished she could easily take you out. The only reason you two sat alive and well in this silence was because you offered her safety.
“We… should be safe here for now. This is a little hiding spot few know.” You said, finally breaking the awkward silence that hung over the cabin.
She continued to stare you down with that same unsettlingly calm stare, that small smile that showed she was sizing you up as she spoke in such a gentle soft voice that juxtaposed her monstrous nature. “How kind of you to rescue me…” she said, a simple observation that had numerous meanings underneath.
“You’re uh, welcome… you’ll stay here with me for the time being.” You began. Of course you were no saint, this wasn’t an act of kindness for free. You were the filth of Roanapur like so many others, and you had your unsavoury reasons for sticking your neck out for this child. Her eyes narrowed however, only a bit, that smile sharpening. She offered money when you said you could get her out, and you didn’t take it. She knew exactly what kind of man you were; she had dealt with your kind many times before.
“I’ll… try to iron things out with Balalaika, though I imagine it’ll cost a lot. She’s not the kind to let something like an attempt on her life go…” you said that last part more to yourself, a grimace on your face. Worse comes to worse you’d just have to flee and keep an eye over your shoulder for the rest of your life.
Gretel then stood from the chair, her shoes clicking softly on the floor of the bridge, that elegant dress swaying with her movements. She walked to get a better view of the sea at the front of the bridge, looking through the windows at the endless blue expanse.
“You look like you’ve never seen the ocean before…” you asked, hoping to avoid the elephant in the room for now, making more lighter conversation.
She shook her head slowly, the long, luscious locks of hair swaying with the gesture. She turned just a bit to glance at you from the corner of her eye before gazing back out to the ocean, and in that brief moment you saw a genuine childlike wonder, and for a moment in time she didn’t seem like the tragic blood thirsty monster you knew her as, but an innocent kid experiencing something new and beautiful in life.
“No, for most of our life we only saw the bloody insides of basement and the corpses we left behind. We hadn’t seen the ocean before…” then she tilted her head up slightly to look at the crisp blue sky above.
“How is it…?” you asked after a moment.
“… pretty…” she said.
It was such a simple word, yet it seemed to change the entire atmosphere of the bridge. In this time neither of you were criminals, she wasn’t a tortured assassin who killed people in such manners that would make hardened soldiers’ vomit, you weren’t a smuggler with irredeemably illegal tastes in the fairer sex. Now, you were just a man witnessing that deep down under the layers of pain and bloodshed, there was still an innocent child in Gretel, one that held wonder for the world. Your gaze softened, and you couldn’t help but let your guard down.
Gretel then turned back towards you, and that beautiful moment had shattered in an instant. She saw your softened look, but before that she saw your gaze that lingered too long on her, and immediately that childish innocence that dared rear its head was shoved back down, replaced by the twisted broken and calculating mind. One who had a warped view on the world, and seeing how you refused her offer for payment and saw how you often stared at her on the sail out to sea, she easily put two and two together.
Gretel stepped towards you where you sat in your captain’s chair, her footsteps now oddly silent. “You saved me…” she said slowly, her voice holding no tones of gratitude, just a cold observation.”
“I did… yes.” You said equally as slow.
“Why?” she asked. That single word hanging heavily between the two of you as she took a few more steps, standing now between you and the wheel, and between your spread legs. Up close you had a better look of her sheer beauty, if the weight of the conversation hadn’t taken your breath away, the resplendence of her visage surely would have.
She continued. “Men like you don’t save little girls… they collect them.”, she said, eyes narrowing and that same predatory look in her eyes, ironic that she was sizing you up like a cut of meat when you were supposedly the real predatory here.
“What do you mean men like me…?” you said cautiously, playing a game that you had already lost but refused to admit so.
Her smile widened, too wide. Those rosy, pink lips curled up to show those sharp long canines, and she leaned in. Her hands reached out to your chest, but she didn’t touch you, just hovering inches away. Her voice lowered, dropping to an almost intimate whisper that sent chills down your spine as she said, “Men who look at me the way you do… you want to keep me in a pretty cage…”, she said.
“Keep you in a cage, what do you think I am?” though the words came out as a hush than an accusation, the idea of keeping Gretel in a cage was a pleasant mental image.
Her eyes trailed your body, evaluating you, sizing you up, comparing her small preteen body to your large, developed adult form. “What do I think you are…? A man who likes little girls of course. A lolicon. A pedophile…” she states softly.
“That… it wasn’t the only reason I saved you, I did it because it was the right thing to do… partially…” you tried to defend your character uselessly, even though everything she was saying was entirely true.
“Partially because it was right… that means partially you did it so you can keep me for yourself… use me like the others did…” she said, her hands finally pressing on your chest, tip toeing to look at you with lidded eyes. It was an act she had put on numerous times already.
“No, I wouldn’t use you!” you said, but one tiny dainty finger pressed against your sternum firmly, but not threateningly.
“Then why have you been getting hard all this time? You think I hadn’t noticed, the stirring in your pants, those eyes that hunger for me. I know what a man looks like when he wants to fuck a little girl.” She said, before leaning in even closer, dropping to a murmur “A man just… like… you… You’re lying to yourself, and to me.”.
This close you could smell her, an intoxicating aroma of strawberries and gunpowder, with a slight metallic scent of death. Sweetness and deadliness in one supple preteen package, one that was pressing against you now, breaking down your layers of decency and resistance to draw out the monster beneath that wanted oh so much to absolutely break apart this child with your cock.
“Fine, I admit that I do want to… fuck you…” you admit slowly, still apprehensive over acknowledging that side of yourself. “I’ve even jerked off to some of your tamer videos. But I don’t want to just force myself on you! That’s why I said I wouldn’t use you…” you tried to reason, hoping she’d get the idea.
“My, how noble indeed. You want to fuck me, but you want me to play the role of an innocent little doll who will spread her legs with joy. This is quite convenient, men like you usually take what they want. But you’re an exception, you want the guilt free fantasy of me being a willing little victim…” she said condescendingly, her dainty fingers toying with the buttons of your shirt.
“How… is it convenient…” you ask slowly. She smirked lightly at that.
“Because someone who won’t force themselves on me is someone willing to bargain.” She said, one hand that was toying with your shirt now resting upon your firm thigh, squeezing lightly. “I do want to live, even if living means being at the mercy of a pedophile. So, I propose thus; Feed me, shelter me, protect me… in return… I’ll do what I was trained to do. By day, I’ll cut down whoever you point me at. By night… I’ll play the role of the sweet little girl you want to corrupt, spreading my legs for you, looking as innocent as you desire…” She said, her words trailing off to a breathy whisper. She knew exactly what she was doing here, and the effects it was having on you going by how tightly you gripped the arm rests of your seat.
“Are you sure?” you asked, still hesitant despite this being the exact situation you rescued her for.
She nodded gently, that sharp calculating glint still in her eyes. “Of course, I’m sure. It’s a fair transaction, I need protection and a place to stay, you desire my underaged body. These are acceptable terms, no?” and she tilted her head slightly, still so close, still gently touching you so.
“Besides…” she added “You clearly see a lot of value in me, otherwise you would have thrown me to the floor by now and violated me. But instead, you’re playing this game of being noble and restrained. It’s kind of cute in a way, a pedophile pretending to not be a monster, but the truth is…” she said, her hand that was squeezing your thigh slowly creeping up closer to your groin which was already swelling with a need to burst, “There are only monsters aboard this boat” she finished in a hushed whisper, one dainty little finger on the bulging tip of your growing arousal.
“So, do we have a deal?” she asked.
You only nodded once in response, eliciting a giggle of satisfaction from the child, who pulled herself away from you now, saying “Good, now feed me.” She demanded. But not before darting in as she walked around your chair to place a quick kiss on your jaw, the spot where her soft little lips briefly graced you with their touch now tingling slightly. When you stood up to lead her to your onboard kitchen, you didn’t even bother trying to hide the stiff boner that throbbed against your pants, something she kept an eye on.
“After I make you something, I want to fuck you…” you blurted out once you two reached the tiny little kitchen area, then winced at the sudden crassness, even though she didn’t seem to care.
“Of course. To tell the truth I was expecting you to have wanted it now rather than humouring my request for a meal… you mentioned you had jerked off to the videos they took of us.” She said, not a question, just an observation.
You had as well, you even had copies burned to tape to keep around. Her late brother didn’t do much for you, but Gretel herself, when you saw her being violated on those videos that were shared around you grew enamoured with her beauty. “Yeah… those ones… I did uh, use them…” you said sheepishly, it felt awkward discussing how you cranked one out multiple times over child porn to the actual child in question who was the feature of those videos.
“Did you enjoy them?” she asked, sitting herself on one of the counter tops, her slim stocking clad legs gently kicking as she regarded you with idle bemusement, taking this talk of sexual abuse with an almost clinical detachment, treating it like a service as mundane as sweeping the floor, just a form of currency to exchange. If money and blood wasn’t enough, then her body was just another tool to pay with.
“I did…” you admit slowly, brushing past her to grab some ingredients, her scent once more wrapping around your senses intoxicatingly.
Her smile widened just a little bit more, that air of detachment slipping for a hint of fucked up pride peeking through. “And now you have the real thing, a living, breathing doll to use as you please. I bet the other pedophiles who watched what they made us do could only dream of having me for themselves, and yet here you are, with me.”.
You licked your lips as you worked to prepare a simple yet hearty meal, hands trembling and cock aching. As much as you prided yourself on having some morals and reservations, it was quickly going out the door and into the sea as lust was taking over. This was the child of your dreams, a girl who now in person was an unfathomable level of beauty beyond what you saw in the grainy videos you jerked off to, and she was yours. After you ploughed her soon you would have to give Balalaika whatever she wanted to call off the hunt because there was no chance you were giving up this premium child pussy.
She silently watched you with that same calculating smile, her natural scent of strawberries and gunpowder being drowned out by the smell of flavours in a pot. “Will you fuck me on the bed, or the floor?” she asked abruptly, eyes flickering to the painfully hard erection that refused to go down. How could it with your mind flooded with anticipation for some real cunny.
“My bed of course, though I guess it’s our bed now.” You said, the implication with that hanging in the air, sharing a bed, not letting her go. In a way she was right, you were going to keep her in a cage. A cage of flesh. It wasn’t quite the freedom she had wanted, but it was close enough for now that she was content.
“The bed. Soft sheets. Easy for you to manoeuvre on top of me…” she said that last line a bit of a purr. She knew what she was doing here, riling you up, building your lust, hoping to make you lose control so she could take it. “Do you want romance with your rape?” she asked so bluntly.
You glanced at her briefly, and in that instance, she saw it all in your eyes. For once her lips curled up in genuine amusement, as well as mockery. “You do, don’t you. You want to fuck a child, but pretend it’s love making? Let me guess, soft sheets, post-coital cuddling, whispered sweet nothings…” she listed off “All while you’re still balls deep inside of a little girl…”.
When she said it like that it did sound rather pathetic, a pedophile smuggler wanting something romantic with the tortured child assassin he rescued, quite the delusion indeed. With the meal cooked you dished it out into two plates, handing one to her with appropriate utensils. She took it and ate with surprising elegance, obeying proper etiquette when eating that made her look rather charming.
Between mouth fulls she said, “You want a girl to whisper ‘I love you’ back whilst you destroy her.” Another observation rather than a question. Finishing the simple yet filling meal with a final bite, she dabbed at her mouth with an offered napkin, then said “I can pretend. Be sweet during sex, moan the right things.”.
You grew even harder at the prospect. Sure, it was just pretend, but it was a start, and even fake words of love from Gretel was still making your pants feel tighter by the second. Putting the plates aside for later, you turned to see her gently drop down from the countertop she sat on with grace, patting down her dress before regarding you with a smile. “Well then, shall I uphold my end of the deal?” and she offered one of her small hands to you. You took it in your own, feeling how tiny and soft it was.
You lead her to your bedroom, which was tidier and more comfortable than she had actually expected, and giving you glances from the corners of her eyes she would admit only to herself when you close the door behind the both of you that at least she was going to be continuously fucked by a hygienic and moderately attractive pedophile.
“You’re quite worked up, aren’t you?” she stated rhetorically, watching the flurry of you tossing your clothes aside, leaving you naked and sitting on the edge of the bed, your large and thick cock finally free and throbbing with lust.
“Can you blame me?” you asked, and she shook her head gently with that same serene smile on her lips.
“Shall I make a show of stripping for you?” she asked, as if getting naked for the adult she was about to get ploughed by was as mundane as buying groceries, said with the smooth detachment of someone so utterly broken. But in this moment, you couldn’t think of that, you could only think of her body and feeling that tight underdeveloped and illegal cunny gripping your cock.
You nodded, and she complied. Her shoes were effortlessly kicked aside, then she slowly began to undo the intricacies of her dress, tugs of lace here, flicks of clasps there. The ornate gown was soon loosened, and carefully she tugged it up over herself. Along the way you saw it all, ankles giving way to calves, then thighs, her legs smooth slender and creamy. Then came to view the ultimate prize, that delightful cunny that sat safeguarded for now behind a pair of white panties that almost blended into her flawlessly smooth skin, the elastic band digging into her waist just slightly.
The dress was tugged up more, revealing an entirely flat stomach and narrow torso, devoid of the baby fat of youth but the curves of maturity. Then with one final tug the dress went over her head into her arms, and she folded it neatly and set it aside, now standing before you in just socks, panties, and a training bra that obscured her almost entirely flat chest, though you could tell there were some budding mounds beginning to peak there.
“That’s not enough for you though, is it mister?” She said, her voice light and mischievous in the face of the situation.
Reaching behind she unclasped her bra effortlessly, letting it fall to the floor with a soft pat. Now before you, you saw the entire majesty of her smooth flat chest in its full glory, delicate little buds that peaked up with hardened nipples of arousal. Not even a handful each. Then maintaining eye contact all throughout, she dug her thumbs under the elastic band of her panties and slowly peeled it down, bending forwards with the motion to obscure her sweet cunny from you for just a moment before lifting one leg, lifting the other, and soon her panties were free. Then she dropped them and stood up straight, standing fully naked sans her socks.
It was everything you had dreamt of, and if your open jaw wasn’t an indication of that, the furious leaking of pre-cum from your swollen tip would be. She was truly beautiful, skin smooth and flawless, her body narrow and underdeveloped, her hips were lacking, her thighs were small. She was the child of your dreams ever since you saw her pornos, living up to your expectations in every way.
“So, mister, what do you think?” she said, twirling lightly on the spot with a rehearsed giggle, playing every bit the part of an innocent child. You got a generous view of every angle of her preteen body with her spinning, seeing her little pale butt that was so small and round.
“Look at you, you’re all frozen stiff” she giggled, poking at you. “For someone claiming to be a big bad pedophile, you froze up awfully quickly once a child got naked before you. What’s wrong, all talk mister?” She said, stepping closer gently on light steps.
“Other men before would raped me you know, by now I would already have had several loads blown into me. Guess you really don’t want to force yourself upon little old me then, as you said…” Gretel said, looking contemplative for a moment as she stood just inches from you.
“Okay, I think I can make this work. If you won’t rape me like all the other pedophiles did, then I’ll just have to take the lead then…” she said, her tones simmering down to a sultry hush as she drew closer now, suddenly planting her small hands on your cheeks, cupping them. Your eyes widened and your heart hammered, was she going to, was this really-?
And then she kissed you, her tiny little pink lips soft against yours, a gentle little peck that resounded in the air of the bedroom. She held you there, tilting her head slightly. You quickly found yourself and took advantage of this situation, tilting your head the other way and returning the kiss, gently pressing your grown adult lips against her tiny child ones. You didn’t know how she felt about it, but to you at least it was surprisingly tender, her lips soft and delicate like the fluttering of butterfly wings.
Maintaining the kiss, only breaking apart for little gasps of air, her hands began to trail down. One sliding along to rest on your shoulder, but the other, that went down the front of your body. Her tiny little fingers traced every contour of your chest, every ridge, every muscle, her hand gently ghosting a trail down your body to your throbbing clock. With one index finger now she brushed up the length of your shaft before wrapping her small digits as best as she could around your girth, all the while never letting up on the kissing.
Then she began to pump away, slow, full length strokes. Occasionally accompanied by a twist of her wrist, her grip tight but not crushing. Every time she made it back to the tip after plunging her grasp down your shaft, her thumb would stroke circles around the exposed slit of your cock head, making you twitch and gasp under her commanding touch. She was fully in charge now, and in a way, maybe that was what made this special. She had control now, control over you with every tight gripped pump of your cock with her surprisingly soft child hands, stroking away trying to coax an orgasm up.
The kissing continued, soft little embraces of your lips, all the while her pumps of your cock kept escalating, her little hand sliding up and down your shaft faster and faster, gripping tight and tighter. Twisting her wrist, more precious precum oozed out of the tip, and you could feel your balls tightening as the telltale signs of an orgasm rapidly approaching. You tried to warm her, to say anything, but you couldn’t. Your lips were sealed by her own, her head cocked to make the lip lock even deeper. But as it turns out you didn’t need to warn her, because she knew you were close. Of course she would know after all the experience she had.
Pulling back from the kiss finally to grant both of you air, a thick saliva strand snapped. She stared at you with those dull yet dazzling grey eyes, her gaze piercing through you, making you feel smaller than you were. And her hand began to get faster, a tight grip around your cock, as if drawing water from a well you could feel your cum swelling within your shaft until throwing your head back with a deep guttural moan you came. You hadn’t orgasmed this hard before in your life, your vision whiting out, as with deep throbbing pulses thick strands of your seed erupted high, easily clearing feet at a time straight up. A soft little O had formed on Gretel’s lips, her eyes following the trajectory of your cum as your seed splattered down onto your abdomen, each pump bringing out another thick rope of cum to paint your body like a canvas.
It felt like an eternity, her short jerks coaxing out the last final drops of seed you could muster in that moment. The moment that soon came to an end. Ragged in breath and coated in sweat you unceremoniously flopped back into your bed, exhaustion creeping over you for a period from the exertion of such a mighty orgasm.
All the while as you recuperate Gretel took to observing you with a sense of satisfaction, eyes flickering between your limp form and the thick jelly coating of cum on her fingers. Eyes narrowing she brought her cum stained hand to her lips, taking an experimental lap or two before locking eyes and sucking the cum off of he each finger, wrapping her lips around the base of each digit, swirling her tongue around, then hollowing her cheeks as she pulled the finger out. Five pops of her lips later and her hand was clean of your seed.
“Wow mister, that was certainly thick. Thicker than any other pedophile I have serviced before~” she said, licking her lips with satisfaction.
“But you don’t want to just end it there, do you mister…?” and she stood up on her small feet, and spreading her legs you saw her cunny glistening with moisture. Was she… aroused? Her face was still that eery look of serenity, not even a hint of a blush unlike yourself. But there was clearly arousal brewing within her as evidenced by the subtle flow of her flower’s nectar on the inside of her legs.
“Well… shall I?” she said, not giving you a chance to say anything more before climbing up to straddle your lap, your cock immediately springing back to life, wetly thumping against her smooth flat belly. “Looks like someone is rather eager” she said coyly, one dainty fingertip rubbing circles on the slit of your shaft, lidded eyes never leaving yours.
She began to lift her hips up, positioning your thick fuck stick at the entrance of her tiny little cunny, and you were worried at first until she reassured you. “Don’t worry mister, this isn’t my first show, you should know this you nasty pedophile, you’ve seen my kiddie porn.” She said with a sly look, mischief in her eyes as she taunted you like the cheeky brat she was. For a moment you could believe she was just an ordinary, well exceptionally beautiful, child about to bounce on your cock.
She continued “And don’t worry mister about my cunny being loose, even after the abuse it’s taken, it’s still oh so soft and tight…” she teased, gyrating her hips lightly as your cock poked gently at her slit. Then slowly she sank down, inch by inch, your cock getting consumed by her tight little pussy. It was paradoxically both tight and tiny enough to be like a moist velvety vice, but loose enough to accommodate the full throbbing length of your penis as it stretched her out, a distinct outline of your meat poking through her belly slightly, showing the true girth of your phallus in her tiny preteen body.
She didn’t blush, didn’t moan, just continued to gaze at you with that unsettlingly serene look. You’d only be able to tell that she felt anything by the sheen of sweat on her porcelain skin, the slow trickle of pussy juices from her cunny that gradually soaked your crotch, the subtle trembling of her body.
And then she started to move, wet slaps of her cunny up and down, squeezing your mighty fuck stick with an intoxicating moist warmth that you couldn’t get enough of, the tight grip that choked your length and every little nerve and ridge along it damn near addicting. No, it absolutely was addicting, you couldn’t imagine yourself living without Gretel’s tight little child pussy wrapped around your cock at least once a day, this was the kind of sensation you would die for.
Soon her hands found yours as she bounced on your lap, her tiny delicate fingers intertwining with yours in a gesture that could have been romantic if under different circumstances. All the while her breath had been mingling with yours, her face was just mere inches away, and every bounce on your cock drew out a pant of exertion, a fine film of sweat forming on her flawless skin, her tiny little breasts jiggling against your broad chest.
“How is it mister? How’s the feeling of the child pussy you’ve craved for so long?” She asked sweetly, her voice a gentle lilt broken only by panting, those grey eyes never leaving yours, never breaking contact.
“It’s everything I ever dreamed about…” you moaned, bucking your hips now to provide additional friction, edging you closer to an orgasm. One you needed urgently, every fibre of your being was screaming out for you to blow a fat load into this underaged pussy and breed her. Every time your thrusting poked at her cervix, every time her moist walls squeezed down on your cock as if to prevent it escaping, every time her pussy lips quivered with untold pleasure she kept hidden behind a mask of indifference, it all made you crave sweet release just that more.
“Are you getting close mister pedophile?” she asked, a tilt of her head. You nodded eagerly, feeling your balls tighten and churn, ready to unleash a fat load inside of her.
“Then how about I finish you off with this…” she said, and drew in close to kiss you. Still holding her hands, she gave you the sloppiest kiss you had ever experienced, her tongue probing into your mouth, slurping lewdly, practically drinking your saliva, accompanied by soft little moans that no doubt were fake but you were too horny to care.
And finish you off she did, the feeling of her tiny little preteen lips giving you the dirtiest kiss you could imagine whilst that tight little pussy squeezed you, you finally blew your load. Your thick cock slammed deep as it could, throbbing and pulsating, thick long sticky ropes of child rapist seed ejaculated deep into the depths of her kiddie womb, painting the most forbidden of fruits white as the proof of your crime of passion. Your vision blurred, stars dancing in your eyes, every neuron was blazing hot with a frenzy of dopamine.
It was the longest and hardest orgasm you had experienced in your entire life, as if your body was putting every single bit of energy it had to drain you dry of your seed, all in the desperate hopes of impregnating this little girl who you obsessed over. All the while she never broke the lip lock, continuing to slurp on your tongue, sucking it between those rosy, pink lips that were better suited sucking a lollipop than a grown man’s tongue. Yet here you were, making out with Gretel whilst you flooded her immature womb with bouts of potent semen.
And then the storm subsided, and you let go of her hands, slumping back onto the bed with a soft thump as your cock immediately began to soften and shrink. Your entire body was wrecked with exhaustion, sweat soaking the sheets. God, you needed a drink now, and a cigarette too maybe. This little monster of a child just drained you completely, more than any grown woman ever had that’s for sure.
Before you grew complacent in the afterglow of an orgasm, you felt a tight sensation clenching around your shaft that was begging to be released now from the hot gooey confines of Gretel’s cunny. Looking up you could see a dangerous smirk upon her lips, and she leaned down, shifting until she was laying on top of you, legs spread over your lap and knees firmly planted in the bed her chin was on your chest and her ass had slowly slid up with your stiffening cock gripped painfully within the confines of her pussy. Then she slid herself back down on your length, the moist toasty grip of her flower forcing your exhausted cock back to life.
“We’re not done yet. Not until I’m satisfied, and you have a long way to go until I’m satisfied, mister…” She said in a soft little purr that inspired fear as well as excitement within your heart. You tried to protest that you were exhausted, there was nothing else that could be wrung out from you, but she placed a finger upon your lips.
“Ah ah, I say when you’re exhausted. And you’re not right now, mister. You still have some energy left to play, so you lay there, and you let me play with you, okay?” she said in that sickeningly sweet yet false tone as she sped up her rhythm, her ass slapping against your crotch even faster now, squeezing and wringing your mast even tighter than before to coax out whatever seed was possibly left, and then some.
“Come on now mister, you can do it, just one more load. Please?” she said, pouting adorably. With pain and pleasure mounting together, you threw caution to the wind and planted both hands firmly on her soft supple little ass, feeling the two tiny little globes beneath your palms you took a moment to squeeze and knead them, committing the texture and shape of this child’s rear cheeks to memory before using your grip as leverage to slam her down even harder, desperate to force out that orgasm and end this already.
For once, she actually looked pleasured. The rough grip you had on her ass, your brutal slamming combined with her own vigorous plapping, her eyes were starting to roll back, the mask of indifference breaking as a blush spread upon her cheeks gradually and pleasure began to surface on her visage. It seemed like all you had to do was get violent to get a reaction out of this kid. Needing this done sooner or later though, you didn’t let up, instead exhausting yourself even further to drive home the point as well as your cock, crashing your tip into her womb once again to unleash a weaker but still potent load of jizz. And this time, Gretel came. She tried to keep it back, choking down moans and cries into just soft whimpers, but her own ejaculation of feminine juices staining your crotch told you more than any noise she could make would say.
She surprisingly started to enjoy sex when you manhandled her by the ass cheeks.
You gave her one soft slap on her bubble butt, a wet smack accompanied by a gentle little yelp. Your chest heaved from the exertion as well as the new though small weight bearing down on you. A glance down showed Gretel looking almost serene as she lay there on your chest, listening to the sound of your breathing, your heartbeat. It was almost romantic in a way… almost… and as you drifted off, tired, your mind and then dreams would swirl with thoughts of what was to come between you two. Could love truly bloom between you two?
Then your heart plummeted as you were pulled out from the depths of slumber you were approaching with the soft honeyed whispers of “We’re still not finished here…”. This girl would be the death of you.
But you saw something within her eyes before you blacked out, something that would be forever burned into your memory. She looked happy to be in control.
…
Months later you found yourself aboard your trusty vessel as you had been for years before and hopefully will be for years to come. Contraband you had successfully smuggled was being unloaded from the cargo hold, your payment already counted and stashed away. Another job done, another fat pay day that you would have to cut short more than you’d like to appease Balalaika, an arrangement you were stuck in for a long, long time.
But as you glanced over at your lover (sort of), a small smile came to your lips. Maybe a life indebted to Hotel Moscow wasn’t so bad when you had saved the girl of your dreams. She stood just to the side peeking out and watching the dockworkers unload the cargo from a safe vantage point, her ever trusty BAR still in her hands. She was the most beautiful child to have ever existed, flawless porcelain skin, long flowing hair and eyes that sparkled with a new renewal on life. She glanced at you and gave you a smile half calculating, but also half sincere smile, then placed a comforting hand upon her large stomach that strained against a new, slightly larger gothic lolita dress you had sewn for her.
Gretel had certainly become more affectionate and caring since her belly had started swelling up with your child. Indeed, both of you were happy now.
Happy and alive.