("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2011. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- My Favourite Memory by Sophie (super.soph86@hotmail.com) *** After I had such wonderful feedback from my previous story, 'Sophie's Story', I decided to write another story, based entirely on one of my most prevalent sexual memories. (MMg, ped, nc, rp, inc) *** My mind is filled with wonderful memories. One particular memory sits above almost all others. Whilst having sex as an adult, I use it to bring me to orgasm. It is a memory of a time when men had so much lust for me that they could not control themselves. I was the object of their desire, their perversion. I was a child, but they were like kids in a candy store. No-one can ever understand me without knowing this story. What took place that warm spring afternoon in 1993 defines who I am. I love who I am, and therefore I love remembering what happened. It is a story I am excited and proud to tell you. The Easter holiday was always my favourite. Winter was over, summer was coming. The first Monday of the school holidays was everything you hoped for in a spring day. Warm, bright, colourful and happy. As we drove along the winding road, a familiar road I was well used to, I watched my Dad drive eagerly, intently and as fast as safety would allow. His big, strong hands gripping the wheel tightly, his square- jawed, deeply masculine face looking forward with his deep brown eyes clearly struggling to stay focused on the road as his mind wandered to what lay in store. His love for me was regularly shown. The late night sneaking through my bedroom door. The gentle shake as he woke me. The crawling under my duvet and the passion that followed. Even at the age of seven, I knew what love was and how it should be expressed. "Have you learned your lines Princess?" he enquired. "Yes Daddy of course." I clutched my Barbie Doll closely, brushing her long flowing blonde hair. This was the first time he had given me homework related to the secret we shared. For several days we had taken moments to hide away, him teaching me new words and things to say. Things I could only say when he gave me permission and the right cue. "Good," he smiled. "It's very important you say them properly." I can't say I knew what the words he had taught me meant, but I knew they were naughty. We pulled off from the road and into the caravan park. Our family had a static caravan, a small holiday home that stood freely alongside many others in a park where many families enjoyed their holidays. It was a place we visited regularly, especially in the warmer months. As we made our way along the narrow path towards our caravan, I felt a sense of nervousness. I knew there was something different, and that we would be meeting with one of Dad's friends, but that was all I knew. We pulled alongside our holiday home and I immediately noticed another car, one I'd never seen, in our normal space. I got my things, Barbie, my little bag of toys and clothes and excited the car, running up to the step in front of the door. A man, tall, medium build, much older than my father and a look of real nervousness in his eyes joined us from the car ahead. He shook Dad's hand firmly, barely making eye contact with him as he gazed at me. My white cotton dress barely came down to my knees, and he clearly was imagining what I looked like without it. "Are we ready to go in Dad? The two men laughed. "In we go sweety," he said turning the lock and opening the door for me. "Is she always this keen?" The man enquired. As the door shut behind us, Dad bent down to pick me up, kissing me on the lips. It was just a peck, but its eroticism and passion was filled with lust, and relief to be away from prying eyes. "This is a friend of mine, the one I was telling you about. He loves you very much too." "Hello sweety, I'm George. I brought you some chocolate, I heard it's your favourite." It certainly was. "Can I eat it now?" I asked eagerly. "No," Dad said, "You can eat it afterwards darling." The men moved towards the sofa which, in reality, was a long and comfortable campbed that filled the majority of the narrow room. A drink was poured for them both, scotch (Dad's favourite to this day). "Do you want a try Sophie?" Dad passed me the heavy crystal glass and I took a sip. My face said it all. It was disgusting! I'd often been given a taste of his wine or beer in the moments leading up to our special 'bedtime', but this was by far the strongest and most horrible thing I'd ever tasted! They both laughed in amusement, and a slight hint of rebellion at the knowledge that giving alcohol to children was wrong. But in the context of what the two men enjoyed most, underage drinking was a triviality. "I think we can start sweety." This was my cue. My pink plimsoles were easily removed from my feet, and my white dress fell easily from my shoulders, revealing my soft white skin, and slim, naked body underneath. My long brown hair now freely falling halfway down my back. Both men let out a gasp, especially George who clearly was not as used to seeing a child naked as my father was. "Give us that special performance you do for me sometimes darling." I knew instinctively what he meant. I opened my bag and removed a small tub of petroleum jelly from my bag, picked Barbie up from the floor and laid down on the campbed. Dad and George sipped from their glassed, the strange man clearly uncomfortable with nerves. He knew something exciting and wonderful was to happen in this room, but he didn't know exactly how events would unfold. My head lay down on the sofa as I rubbed the Vaseline along the outside of my asshole. I was very aware of the importance of the place between my legs, I knew how much attention it received and how important it was between a Dad and his daughter. Both my pussy and ass was regularly used, and I had grown to understand the tricks of how to accommodate what Dad had to give me. But it was also clear that it was my ass that was most regularly used, predominantly because my Dad found it easier to penetrate and thrust himself into. I lifted myself up slightly with my legs, and eased Barbie's head inside me, holding her by her waist and pushing her in. As was usual, it was at first uncomfortable, her wide head not penetrating at first as it pushed against me. Careful not to cause myself pain, I pushed further until I felt the pop, where suddenly penetration was easier and several inches of her long slim plastic body entered me. Dad's hands stroked my leg softly, caressing me as they enjoyed the view. Soft whimpers were hard to keep in, it was a feeling I was well used to but the shape of my doll was nothing like Dad's thick erect cock. I knew this was just a show, a precursor, a gift to tease George before the main event. "May I touch her?" George asked. "That's what we're here for isn't it?" Dad replied. The two men smiled. George moved along side me, and kissed me on the lips. He was the first man other than Dad to kiss me, and I was taken aback by the different contours of his face, his thicker lips and the smell of what I now know to be tobacco. I kissed him back of course, my lips opening slightly to allow his tongue to enter my mouth. As I was taught, I licked his tongue gently and he smiled at the realisation I knew, at least a little, what I was doing. Barbie was now as deep inside me as was possible. I could feel the curves of her plastic breasts inside me and the added width of her arms giving a sensation I wasn't entirely used to. It was pleasurable, enjoyable, and my understanding of the sexiness of being watched as I masturbated belied my young age. I enjoyed the kiss, although it was firmer than with Dad. The excitement, perhaps, was leading George to be a bit firm, but the act of love, the act of sex, was not necessarily a gentle one, and the power of a grown man's strong body was something I understood. He had a right to kiss me how he wanted, and all I had to do with kiss him back. Dad gently caressed my thighs, licking them and kissing them. But he pulled away and looked at me, and as George removed his lips from mine, I knew it was time to deliver my first line, the carefully rehearsed words my Dad had taught me to say for this very occasion. "Daddy, I want some cock." George exhaled in delight, taken aback by my forthrightness, presumably ignoring the likelihood that these were more my father's words than my own. "Of course you can princess." In what seemed like a second, I found myself in front of two naked men. Their cocks in an upright position. Dad's was a sight I was so very used to. Thick, masculine, a length which I now know to be around average but seemed mammoth to me at the time. Of course I had never seen another man's penis before, save the occasional porn film I had watched whilst sat on my Father's knee at home. George's was different, no foreskin and slightly darker in colour. The thick bush of his grey pubic hair was a contrast to Dad's trimmed and dark appearance. Before long the kissing and caressing had restarted. Hands all over me, nibbling of my earlobes, the feeling of breath against my neck, sucking of my tiny flat nipples. Barbie's head now replaced by rough-skinned fingers pushing deeper inside me. I could feel every inch of a finger, I don't know whose, exploring as far into my hole as its length would allow. And it felt wonderful. Make no mistake, every little princess wants to be the centre of attention. And for this moment it was all about me. But if that moment was about me, what followed was all about them. The unleashing of their wildest fantasies. The sheer self-indulgence of two paedophiles enjoying the body of a tiny girl and making the most of every last second. My hands were wandering too their impossibly hard dicks. My soft hands exploring their shafts. My heart beating harder than it had ever done before. I could see Dad now pulling away, kissing down my body and pulling my legs open wider. It was now his fingers, not inside my ass, but my tiny lubricated pussy. He pushed hard and I moaned with slight discomfort, but relaxed as his tongue began to move in circles around my slit. I was, of course, too young to have experienced an orgasm, but his tongue felt magical and lovely against me. George too moved positions, and my mouth was clearly no longer for kissing. "Open wide," he whispered, as though nervous someone could hear him. I grabbed his cock at its base and he guided himself into my mouth. It tasted the same as Dad's. Slightly salty with a soft texture. I knew how to suck cock. I knew the techniques and the purpose. My cheeks turned to dimples as I sucked lovingly, my hidden tongue moving in figures of eights around the tip. My spare hand stroking Dad's hair as he licked me passionately, hungrily. "Someone's been practicing," he laughed, staring at me, falling in love with me. I have no idea if this lasted for seconds, minutes or indeed hours. But my next cue, the next line I had been taught to say was soon ordered. "What do you want us to do Soph?" "I want you to rape me." My Dad's eyes screamed delight that the meeting was going exactly as he'd hoped. I was being a good girl. Saying what I was meant to, when I was meant to. He wanted to give an impression to his friend that I was the perfect girl. And it seemed to work. George's eyes screamed uncontrollable lust. As far as he was concerned, I'd asked to be raped and that is what would happen. And it is what happened. My sex life had been unpredictable before, sometimes Dad would be loving and gentle, other times less so. But today was not about making love. George moved to the foot of the bed, and picked my whole body up in the air, turning me over. On my hands and knees I faced the wall. And as Dad moved in front of me, I felt George's cock push into my ass. His hands guiding him in. But he was being too gentle and he had difficult penetrating my tiny, if well used, ass. "No need to be gentle, just fuck her" Dad advised, with a glint in his eye. His advice was taken, and in a flash he was inside me, his hands gripping my waist and fucking me. I can't promise it felt nice. This was always the part that was least pleasurable to me, but the understanding of how happy it made Dad, and how good I was being for him, made it satisfying. And in time, as my body grow, I grew to crave this form of sex. "She's so tight, oh my God" he whispered as he felt my hole opening for him, inch by inch. So there we were, two men taking it in turns to fuck me, a seven year old girl presenting her body to them acting as though it was the most normal thing in the world. And of course, to me sex was normal. The men taking a break and swapping when concerned they would reach orgasm too soon and end the afternoon prematurely. I remember, quite distinctively, when our afternoon moved to its final stage. My Dad pulling out of behind me, George laying in front of me with his still rock hard cock in my mouth. I was picked up, turned around and placed onto George's lap. Riding him as he moved to lay down almost flat. My tiny ass now used to the rough, hard penetration of my lovers, and his cock slid comfortably back in. And as I rode him, my back facing George and gazing up into Dad's eyes, I was pushed back to lay wholly on him. His hands now over my body, kissing my ears. Dad, now with a gentle glistening of sweat, moved to his knees, holding my small legs in the air before moving towards my pussy. I realised what was to happen. I was already sore, very sore. But to this day when Dad wants something he will get it. With George's shaft as deep inside my ass as it could be, Dad pulled closer and entered my pussy. I felt it pop inside, but I felt more full than I ever had before. Without fear of causing me pain he pushed deeper inside me. And it did cause me pain. "Ooow Daddy no" "Sssshhh," he whispered, as George continued nibbling my ear, recognising the difficulty of our new position, he shortened his thrusts into slow, slight movements. But the pleasure was coming to him fast, and he was no longer able to control himself. "Sophie you dirty fucking bitch, oooooh!" George cried, as Dad kissed me, biting my lip gently. It was here the rehearsed lines came thick and fast, remembering them came as a welcome distraction from the fullness, the uncomfortable stretching. "Do you like being raped Soph?" "Yes" I whimpered. "Are you a whore?" "Yes." My soft, childlike voice and the adventure of the situation made them more and more excited, I could feel their bodies tensing and their moans becoming more pronounced. Their cocks were now so hard and the strength of their grown bodies now pounding into me. It hurt desperately, but this was what I was here for and I understood what it was about. "Fuck my cunt Daddy," I whispered, knowing this was his favourite line without fully understanding its meaning. "Oh you fucking slut," George added, wanting to ensure he was involved. "You dirty fuckslut." "Yes," I acknowledged. "Rape me." And within moments, the two men, my Dad and a perfect stranger began to cum. The whole bed shaking violently to the point of collapse. I could feel myself ripping, my small body unable to take the strain of two cocks buried inside me. Fucking me. Raping me. "Oh Sophie... Oh Soph! Oh fuck! Oh God!" A grown woman can hardly feel cum be injected into her body, but a small girl can. And I felt every drop. The initial squirt followed by the warm, glowing sensation inside me, followed finally by the sudden extra lubrication that ironically, makes the act of sex so much easier now it was at an end. The pain began to subside as the size of their cocks began to shrink. The familiar smile, almost laugh of relief as Dad steadied himself. George behind me, still holding me tight, not wanting to let go. "That was amazing," the man beneath me muttered. "Absolutely fucking unbelieveable." "She's not bad is she?" joked my Dad, giving me a welcome kiss. "I love you princess." "I love you too" I replied, realising that it was over for now. I meant it, I loved him passionately and with all my heart. But the soreness that came immediately after sex was always a difficult price to pay. As quickly as I had felt too full, now I felt too empty. And it was the emptiness I feared most, almost to the point of craving them inside me once more. "And you get to fuck that all the time. Lucky man!" Dad looked at me. Proud. Happy. Satisfied. "Yes I do, and yes I am!" END *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* The author does not condone child abuse, this story is meant as an erotic fantasy not depicting anything in real life. Anyone acting out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in their local prison system. *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Kristen's collection - Directory 69