Copyright (c) 2015,   madvlad.  ALL Rights Reserved

Date of first publication in Mr Double's Palisade :
Tuesday, September 15, 2015

This story may be downloaded by Palisade members uniquely for their private use, and 
may not be distributed for profit or posted to newsgroups or other websites.  Mr Double 
may be contacted by emailing mrdouble@mrdouble.com.


A Palisade Author story from MrDouble's archive, 
Filename: asportin.txt
http://www.mrdouble.com


story_codes: mmm+/f, g (13,11)

story_intro: When a youth soccer team defeats a rival, they find themselves spurned by the girl who was supposed to be their "trophy". When the girl's little sisters show up one by one, they find lust-fueled solace in those blooming young bodies.


story_language: English





A Sporting Bet

Written by madvlad


Note: This story was written based on a request.


	For a captain of a soccer team that had just thrashed another country's team, Bernd was immensely frustrated. He and his teammates had been training like mad for this match, hosting a team from France in their town.

	Ever since Greta Strauss had taken over as the coach for his high school team, Bernd had seen a mistake-prone squad with mismatched parts become a high-tuned machine. While having a young woman of twenty-six coaching a bunch of teenage boys might have raised some eyebrows, most people in his town simply liked the results. Considering the things that went on behind closed doors, on top of church altars, and in the basements of pre-schools, nothing was much of surprise in a town whose outward appearance seemed to be that of a picturesque Alpine village straight from a travelers' bureau.

	Coach Greta was relentless in training her boys on the field and no less so when rewarding them in the locker room. Her insatiable hunger and nearly preternaturally toned body were an easy match for the fifteen horny teens, despite the boys' best efforts.

	This match was supposed to be a friendly training one; allowing two top youth teams a tilt against other European talent. But Coach Greta was as aggressive in preparation for this as she was in taking on three boys at once in the shower. 

	"I want you to make a bet," she said the night before. "Whichever team wins gets to fuck someone associated with the other side. The number of goals scored by the winning team will determine the number of hours they get. Of course, you can offer me as the potential prize for them."

	"B-but what of they actually win?" asked Arno, a perennially bench warmer whose only contribution to the team was an oddly bulbous head on his prick that Greta loved.

	Greta speared the boy with a haughty look.

	"Then perhaps I'll get some better fucking than I do with you limp dicks," she snorted. "Bernd, you talk to Henri, he's the French captain. Might I suggest their coach's daughter as the wager? She quite beautiful and exotic - the mother is from Tunisia."

	Henri had been aghast at first and mumbled something before walking away. But he must have said something to his teammates because Bernd could see how they gazed at Greta and whispered among themselves at the welcoming dinner. Sure enough, Henri approached Bernd after dinner and offered his hand.

	"It's a deal," he said. "We shall win, but if you manage, then Cleopatra is yours."

	Cleopatra? 

	Bernd scoffed at the presumptive name until he saw her. At sixteen, she was the same age as he was but seemed so much older with her bearing. Tall and elegant, she peered at the world through dark, slightly tilted eyes set over a delicate nose and an exquisite mouth. When she moved her head on her long and graceful neck, her shimmering black hair swayed as if to accentuate everything intoxicating about her.

	At the dinner, she wore a simple, floral patterned dress that ended at mid-thigh. Where Greta's legs were compact and muscular, Cleopatra's limbs were lean and sensually toned. When she walked, there a slight indentation along the sides of her thighs where her muscles shifted. Bernd was nearly dizzy as he imagined those cinnamon limbs wrapped around him as he celebrated victory.

	The French boys may have been fueled with lust, but Bernd and his crew were driven with more frenzied fury. By the ending whistle, the score was 5-0 with the bewildered Gallic team left exhausted and with a case of blue balls. 

	To no one's surprise, there was wine and beer waiting in the German team's locker room. Greta was absent as bottles were opened. Bernd had a beer in his hand as he waited by the door and answered the tapping immediately.

	Henri stood with Cleopatra and nervously extended his hand, making a show of good sportsmanship by congratulating Bernd and his team. Cleopatra looked bored and Henri swallowed hard when he turned to her.

	"Eh, we had a friendly wager," he said to her. "If they won, you would, em, grace their celebration in a display of...uh...honor."

	Cleopatra looked at him in confusion and then contempt. 

	"I want to go shopping in town before we leave tomorrow," she sneered. "I have no desire to listen to a bunch of German drinking songs and watch them get shit-faced."

	Haughtily, she swept her eyes over the German boys. Recognizing the looks she was getting from them, her face darkened. Spinning around, she sent Henri tumbling with a vicious smack to the face.

	"You pig!" she spat. "You dared to offer me as a trophy?"

	"Yes, he should have asked you first," Bernd interjected before she sent the toe of an expensive shoe into Henri's face. "But why don't you join us for a drink before you go shopping?"

	Bernd was desperately trying to get her to stay in hopes they could have her. But Cleopatra saw through his feeble attempt and snorted.

	"If I want a man," she said in a voice like a stiletto wrapped in silk. "I can have one. But a real man is a far cry from an uncouth pack of sweaty, drunken boys."

	With that, Cleopatra turned and walked away, giving Bernd and the other boys who had now crowded through the doorway a good look at her high buttocks as they swayed inside the designer denim into which they had somehow been miraculously squeezed.

	"Henri," Bernd growled.

	Panicked, Henri skittered backwards on his butt as he hadn't dared get up.

	"Uh, Cleopatra has two sisters..." he squeaked.

	"Sisters?"

	"Uh, yeah. Well, Avril is still just a kid but Isabel is starting to, um, grow. You know what I mean?"

	Still smarting from the loss of Cleopatra, Bernd and the others were not that enthusiastic when Henri returned with Isabel. Although her features were not refined, Isabel shared her older sister's coloring. She, too, wore tight jeans that showed the beginnings of adolescent curves and two small mounds perked out against the team t-shirt she wore. And unlike Cleopatra, she wore a pleasant smile on her face.

	"This is Isabel," Henri said. "I told her it was a customer to let the winning team enjoy the company of a beautiful lady during their victory celebration."

	"Why didn't you ask Cleopatra?" Isabel asked. "She's so beautiful."

	"Well we were thinking of doing that," Henri lied. "But we thought you'd enjoy it more."

	"You mean you knew that Cleopatra was too stuck up," Isabel answered. "Anyway, I'd be happy to be your beautiful lady. I'm thirteen - that's not too young, is it?"

	She asked it with a smile that was coquettish although she didn't intend it to be lewd in any way. Perhaps she might get a kiss or two, as she had with some boys her age back home. But she had been quick to halt their advances when their hands tried to touch her young breasts through her shirt and bra. That was until the last time when she let one boy slip a hand under her shirt.

	How hot and tingly she had felt in her groin when his shaking fingers crept over her bra. Eventually, he had wanted to go further but there was no way her bra was coming off.

	She had laughed when offered a beer but when a glass of wine was pressed into her hand, she accepted. She drank a small glass with dinner sometimes at the family dinner table and, after all, wasn't she growing up enough to have one in celebration? It was certainly flattering that these older boys were paying so much attention to her. So why shouldn't she have a second glass?

	Or this was her third, right? It was hard to tell and she thought they sometimes added some before her glass was empty. But this was so fun, she felt flushed from the excitement and the wine and she didn't even mind the beer on her breath when she got kissed.

	No, no, she shouldn't take her shirt off. But it was a shirt with the logo for the losing team - not proper for this party, right? That boy, Oskar, was so polite, though, when he carefully folded it for her. She felt scandalous in a good, unrestrained way that she was dancing around in just her bra. But it covered her more than a bikini top, so what was the big deal? She was glad it was her bra because she could feel her nipples harden inside when playful hands cupped her there. In a swimsuit, they'd be poking right through.

	Isabel's bra white bra shone brightly over her honey-colored skin, focusing the boys' heated attention on it and the flesh that filled out the small silken cups. Yes, Greta's were much larger and fuller, but the idea of a young girl's budding titties needing to be uncovered and touched drove their lust.

	Groggy from the wine, Isabel tried to bat away the hands working the bra's clasp behind her back. But her own limbs weren't working just right and she heard the cheers just as the air caressed her suddenly bare chest. 

	Each was a small handful, the color of dark caramel crowned with a dark brown nipple that jutted stiffly as much as its limited size would allow. Isabel started to cry in shame, not so much from the exposure itself but knowing how inadequate she was compared to her big sister. It was a common source of torment for her; never appreciating herself and in awe of the gorgeous Cleopatra. 

	The hands were comforting, squeezing the firm young fruit of her emerging pubescence. They didn't mind that she wasn't Cleopatra. And when the mouths found her, sucking both breasts at once, she thought she'd overheat. But the proffered wine was cool and she drank gratefully as the teens seemingly tried to drink nonexistent milk from her nipples with insistent sucking.

	Isabel tilted her head back, sighing with pleasure. It was if she was on the cover of one of those romance novels - the kinds of covers that sometimes made her imagination take a romp until she found herself still standing there in the bookstore with her thighs clamped together. 

	The hands were all over her, stroking her bare skin and even her butt through her panties. (Now wait a minute - where had her pants gone?). She tried to think as she was eased into a kneeling position (that was thoughtful of them as it was becoming difficult to stand). 

	She blinked through her drunken haze, staring straight at a...a...

	"This is Peter," a teen's voice said, sounding cottony in her ears. "And this is Peter's peter."

	Isabel was kneeling, nude except for her panties and with her blooming titties shiny with the saliva from several boys. In her stupor, she stared down at her crotch, noticing the dampness in her underwear. She lifted her head again, blinking slowly at the erection just centimeters from her nose and her mouth gaped open.

	"That's it," a boy encouraged as someone put a hand to the back of her head. 

	She was pushed forward as Peter leaned toward. He was in her mouth. She was tasting his manhood.

	"Now suck."

	Isabel rolled her dark eyes around, searching the blurry faces for an answer to a question she didn't quite know. The order was repeated and she began to suck.

	Peter grinned as the young girl's generous lips compressed around his member while her tongue rubbed back and forth. Sure, Greta gave better head, but seeing this little chick going at it was pretty hot. In his state, he didn't last long and soon exploded in the thirteen year-old's mouth. 

	Isabel sputtered as the musky goo spilled over her tongue. The boys didn't care if she swallowed and they liked how the stuff dribbled on her luscious little tits. When she made a face, one of them handed her a cup of wine so she could wash the taste out. She took it and drank. When the cup was empty, another cock was ready and she opened wide.

	In a brief moment of semi-clarity, Isabel was shocked at herself (and a bit impressed as well) for letting the boys do those things to her breasts and actually sucking their...dicks. The word bounced in her mind like a rubber ball, making her twitch with laughter. 

	She had been lifted, the boys passing her about over their heads like she was in a mosh pit at a concert. She had seen videos of those things and could never imagine having the nerve to surf the crowd like that. But here she was, with several hands supporting her at any given time as she was moved. Some of the naughtier boys even copped long, groping feels of her bare buttocks.

	Somehow, her panties had disappeared. It was too perplexing for her to think about, so she simply hoped that nice Oskar had folded them neatly like he had done with her t-shirt.

	And there was Oskar looking at her. They had set her on a padded table. She knew it was a training table since the team her father coached had one of those in their locker room. Oskar had his cock out. Did he want her to suck him? Dazed, Isabel considered this but she was lying on her back. Perhaps she could get up but Oskar didn't seem to want that as he parted her legs for some reason.

	A thin scattering of silky hairs adorned Isabel's cunny. The skin was quite visible, shiny along the cleft. When he parted her labia, she was as pink inside as any other girl he had known this way, only with darker skin on the outside in contrast. She was candy to him - light chocolate and peppermint. As he pressed the head of his prick into her, he also found she had cherry in there, too. But not for long.

	With a heavy thrust, he entered her, breaking her membrane. Isabel's eyes widened in shock for a moment but then she only bit her lip in discomfort as the sixteen year-old's hardness spread her virgin passage open. Oskar worked his way in until he reached her cervix. When he pulled out, some blood on his organ also stained her labia, marking her initiation into womanhood. 

	With his teammates cheering him on, Oskar went to work. He had led the team in the match with two goals and now scored another here on the table. As he thrust in and out of the barely teen girl with vigor, Isabel's mind cleared enough to understand what was happening to her. Weakly, she tried to protest, pushing at him with her hands ineffectively. But the burst of semen that spilled into her body suddenly stilled her and with a moan she went limp. 

	She was still conscious but had surrendered; her disbelief at the act done to her settled into shock when she felt the hot spurts invade her. Another boy, Bernd, was now between her legs and she only groaned mildly as she was taken again. Her channel pulled tautly around the teen's hardened organ, but lubricated with her torn virginity and first insemination, it only made a more luscious socket and Bernd happily hammered away at the petite thirteen year-old.

	It didn't stop. They twisted her on the table at an angle, turning her head so she could orally service a boy while another hammered away at her newly adolescent cunt. She accepted it all, one small part of her mind screaming in protest while the rest simply registered the act and the occasional flashes of pleasure from the carnal friction in her snug young sex tube. 

	Bernd's Teutonic sperm filled the young organs inside the biracial girl. The teen invited another teammate to enjoy the cream-filled, milk chocolate treat they had and, with another hard penetration, Isabel was taken yet again.

	It was only when she was rolled onto her belly some time later and she felt something pressing between her buttocks that she struggled in earnest. Surely they didn't mean to put their things...there! It wasn't supposed to be done there and she finally managed a scream when a teen managed to breach her anus and take her last bit of virginity. Another cock in her mouth silenced her and in need of comfort she sucked on it. A hand stroked her hair in approval but couldn't stop the tears of humiliation from escaping as she felt the hardness rutting inside her bottom.

	When a spray of jism coated her bowls, Isabel was once again defeated. She let them have their way with her in any orifice they chose as the wine became both an anesthetic and an aphrodisiac. Seeking those brief flashes of pleasure as a refuge from her shame, she worked her body against the pricks invading her. The thirteen year-old was held and moved and repositioned as she took multiple cocks, becoming a warm, slippery cum dump for a team swept up in the celebration of victory.

	Avril was bored. She knew Cleopatra had gone shopping in the picturesque old down town area but she also knew better than to try to tag along. Isabel, on the other hand, was always fun to be around but Avril couldn't find her anywhere. Someone said they had seen her with Henri a few hours ago heading to the German team's locker room. With nowhere else to look, Avril went there.

	She knocked on the door a few times but doubted anyone could hear her over the raucous noise she could hear inside. Finally, she opened the door and went in.

	The first boy she saw didn't have his shirt on but that didn't bother her. She often saw the players on her father's team take their shirts off as they sweated through practice. But just as she tapped his arm, she noticed he wasn't wearing anything else, either.

	"Oh! I'm sorry!"

	Oskar turned when he felt something on his arm and was surprised to see a young girl there. She had to be the kid sister - Cleopatra's youngest sibling. There was no mistaking the dark hair, doe eyes, and full mouth although this girl's skin was a couple of shades lighter than her sisters'. Because of her complexion, he could better see the blush rushing to her cheeks as she stepped back and stammered an apology.

	"Hey! Over here!" Oskar called. "We've got another one!"

	Another one?

	Avril didn't understand what he meant as several more naked teens clustered around her. When her gaze fell to their members which were in various stages of erection, she thought she'd faint. 

	Oskar licked his lips. He didn't see any growth under her t-shirt but she looked tasty enough as it was. Then Peter handed the girl a cup of wine.

	"Here," he said as he held it to her lips and tilted it to pour. "You look like you need this."

	Avril wanted to decline, but Peter's other hand was on the back of her head, holding her fast while he emptied the cup into her mouth. For fear of choking, Avril gulped the wine down, getting an almost instant buzz that made her blink furiously to try to focus. 

	Then she saw Isabel and was relieved to have found her. The relief went up in smoke when she saw that her sister was as naked as the boys. Goodness! She was sucking on one of those boys' things. Avril had heard some vague talk about sex but it seemed like such an alien concept. Her sister's small breasts - quite large by Avril's envious standards - looked shiny as if they had been licked or something. For reasons Avril couldn't define, her own nipples stiffened against her shirt in empathy.

	What sent Avril reeling, though, was when her eyes continued down Isabel's body and saw a boy plowing his dick in and out of Isabel's private parts. The thirteen year-old's sparse, silky pubic hairs were now sticky and pasted against her light cocoa vulva like fine black ink marks. Avril didn't understand - that sort of thing wasn't supposed to happen until you got married.

	Avril felt dizzy and her throat was too dry to speak. Another cup of wine was held to her mouth and this time she drank readily. It was cool going down but she felt overheated when she was finished. Fortunately, the boys kept her from falling over, which she felt like she might do. They carried her to a table and set her down, arranging her clothes to make her feel more comfortable. 

	They didn't have to go through all that fuss, she thought blearily. Then she couldn't see. She panicked for a moment until she understood it was only because they were taking her off her t-shirt. She didn't wear a bra because she really didn't have anything there to cover - just a slight swelling under each nipple. There was more tugging further down her body and she wondered why they had made her naked.

	Someone was speaking. They were saying the same thing to her, over and over. She finally understood the words as they tumbled into form inside her head.

	"How old are you?"

	"Te...um, eleven. I just had my birthday," she slurred.

	Bernd nodded as he surveyed Avril's nude form. The tiny chocolate nubs on her chest looked delicate, as if they'd melt in his mouth. Beyond that, she was just a little kid with nothing forming at the hips. Her legs were nice, though, long and with a bit of shapeliness to it that told him she'd grow to be like her sisters in that department. What hadn't grown was any hair between her legs.

	She jerked when he touched her smooth cunny, parting the lips to find her pink inside like Isabel had been. Of course, with all of the friction and arousal Isabel had endured so far, her internal color had darkened a bit. Spilling wine from a cup, Bernd splashed it over Avril's open cleft. He rubbed it in there with a finger, lubing her and letting her absorb the alcohol through the tissues there. Avril mumbled something and weakly shook her head - that was all.

	As he rubbed his cock head against Avril's hairless cunny, Bernd thought about his own little sisters. The youngest were ten and eight and would look more like white-skinned versions of Avril in their body types. He knew that Else, the ten year-old, had been fooling around with Father Dieter for a few years and was likely no virgin. But quiet little Magda had likely gone without any such attention so far.

	Bernd made a note to look into that as he gripped the girl's waist. 

	"I'm going to make you be like your sister," he said to her. "And she's here to watch."

	Isabel had been brought over and was grunting as Peter sodomized her ass. Still drunk, the older girl understood on a basic level that her little sister was about to lose her innocence. But she didn't know what to do about it and only watched while the other teen's dick ravaged her anal cavity. 

	She saw the hard white cock plunge between Avril's hairless lips, spreading the light honey colored flesh. The eleven year-old cried and arched her back but could do nothing else as she was deflowered by the horny teen. A new color emerged where there flesh was joined; the dark crimson of Avril's ruptured maidenhead. 

	Avril could only managed small choking noises as her virgin cunt was plundered. It made the thick, gurgling noises of her blood easier to hear as Bernd thrust inside her snug little channel. Having cum inside of Avril's sister several times already, he lasted a long time in Avril's slick, grasping twat hole. 

	Bernd grabbed Avril's slender thighs and held them on either side of his rocking hips. This opened the girl up to get her prepubescent snatch thoroughly reamed. The preteen's slender, deflowered body undulated with the power of his thrusts. Her childish new breasts didn't even have enough mass to quiver but they still drew the eager mouths of other boys that sucked and chewed on her sensitive little nips. 

	With a long groan, Bernd came, pumping surprisingly long jets of virile teen sperm into the eleven year-old's sex organs despite his balls having been well-tapped by Isabel. 

	"Gnnnggh," Avril moaned as she was heavily seeded by her first sex partner. 

	Isabel watched her little sister's violation continue. Like her own cunny had done after the first time, Avril's bald snatch oozed the stained, virgin load of jism before another boy plugged her tightly. When Avril moaned at the new penetration, someone turned her head to the side and she quickly got her first taste of cock.

	Both girls had been getting it for about an hour and Arno watched as Peter taught Avril how to receive a prick in the doggy position. When he had done, he left the girl on her belly lying perpendicular across the training table. 

	Gazing at the smooth little bubbles of Avril's preteen ass, Arno stepped in. The girl's cheeks were firm yet pliant enough to grip and pull open. There had been enough fluid that had leaked down to wet the small pucker of her asshole. Some of his teammates cheered as he brought the swollen head of his oddly shaped penis to bear against the orifice. 

	Although quite drunk, Avril managed to shriek in pain and outrage as Arno forced his way into her ass. The eleven year-old's anus dilated agonizingly wide to accommodate Arno's glans. Flailing desperately with her arms, Avril thought he was going to rip her apart back there. Then his head passed through her straining asshole. The muscular ring snapped tightly around the boy's shaft, the sensitive surface getting scraped by the hard meat that passed through it. Arno nearly giggled at the sight of her skewered rump - it looked like two lush caramel apples on a thick white stick.

	Avril's head hung loosely for a moment before someone fed his dick into her mouth. The girl automatically sucked it while she felt Arno's bulbous head plumbing her small, virgin rectum. 
Humming rhythmically to the thrusts inside her ravaged bottom, the preteen felt the slivers of electricity she had fleetingly experienced in her cunt during earlier copulations return. 

	The boys commented on how she was making sounds in concert to the ass fucking she was getting. Slipping his hand under her, Arno felt the moisture there - something more than just the slime of teen cum.

	"She's getting off on it!" he announced. 

	The cheers sounded around the room. Bernd was busy rutting in Isabel's twat and leered as he looked at her semen smeared face.

	"You hear that? Your sister loves taking it in the ass."

	Isabel's verbal response was just a mumble, but in her alcohol addled mind, she thought, "that's nice".

	Arno's semen slammed into Avril's guts, making her groan around the cock that was simultaneously pumping down her throat. While another boy immediately took his place in her mouth, Arno courteously waited for his prick to deflate so the head wouldn't hurt as much coming out. 

	When the next boy stepped behind her, he considered the tempting target of Avril's hairless, dripping pussy but decided to sample her ass meat instead. But the young girl's cunt would not go ignored for the duration of the party.

	Greta saw the boys leaving and wondered if they had enticed some local girl or two to join their party. She really wanted to see that proud and beautiful bitch, Cleopatra, get broken. But she had seen the sixteen year-old haughtily strutting from the soccer facility five hours earlier. 

	When Greta entered the locker room, the pervading scent of wine and beer and sex was evident. To her surprise, she saw Cleopatra's younger sisters on the floor in the shower, naked and fumbling toward the piles of clothing. The caked semen along their thighs and around their mouths made it clear how they had been kept busy. Greta walked around and admired the younger one's pert rear and noted that it had been nicely used as well.

	"Fun party, girls?" she asked, getting unintelligible replies. 

	Greta chuckled as she took a role of adhesive athletic tape and began to pull the end loose from it. Putting her foot on Isabel's shoulder, she easily pushed her to the floor with a light shove. Then she tore off a long strip of tape from the role and grinned at the sticky sisters.

	"Don't get dressed, yet," she announced. "The party's far from over."
	



madvlad@mrdouble.com
http://www.mrdouble.bz/htm/authors/madvlad.htm























This story is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.


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