Copyright (c) 2017,   madvlad.  ALL Rights Reserved

Date of first publication in Mr Double's Palisade :
Thursday, October 19, 2017

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: carniv10.txt
http://www.mrdouble.com

story_codes: M/g (9), g/g, Horses/ggg+, bestiality, rape, cons, supernatural

story_intro: What is more fun than a little girl riding a carousel horse at the carnival? For one thing - when the horses ride the little girl.


story_language: English






Carnival Alaxizz, Story 10

Written by madvlad


	In a matter of mere hours, Clementine's world had completely changed. Gone was the patched dress of the orphanage, replaced by a lovely white dress with yellow ribbon. The new shoes slightly pinched her feet but the girl didn't mind as Mr. Hollander, who was now her father, escorted her through the carnival.

	Her father! The man had told her that she was an orphan no more and insisted that she call him "Papa". Curiously, she had no mother but she thought the man in his black bowler with the lime green band was fine company by himself. Clementine's head turned constantly, making her long main of blonde ringlets sway as she took in the gaily painted wagons and performers who could juggle and swallow real fire.

	They passed a man in a white suit selling bottles of tonic that claimed to both ease the pains of femininity and restore masculine vitality. Clementine didn't know anything of those ailments but thought it a wonder that one medicine could cure both. Wilbur Hollander laughed as she noted this but pointed out that there were scientific wonders aplenty as they neared the dawn of the new century. Surely, 1896 was an incredible time to be alive.

	A melody from a calliope floated into Clementine's ear. Spotting the source, she sucked in a huge breath.

	"Oh! Mister...I mean, Papa! That's a carousel, isn't it?"

	"Yes, it is. Would you like a ride?"

	"Papa, may I? Please?"

	"Of course!" Hollander laughed as he handed an attendant a coin.

	After giving her wonderful father a peck on the cheek, Clementine hopped aboard the carousel in search of the perfect mount. The wooden steeds were brightly painted with cut-glass gems sparkling where they were set in the carved saddles and bridles. But it was a golden stallion with a main of fiery red, lacking any tack - bejeweled or otherwise - that caught the girl's fancy. Rubbing its nose for a moment, Clementine then climbed onto it.

	For a moment, she teetered with her belly across its back. Facing toward the carousel's center, she saw her gaping face in the mirror and nearly giggled. Then she grasped the brass pole and swung herself into a sitting position with her legs draped on either side. Watching as another father set his young daughter stop a horse who that she sat side-saddle, Clementine wondered if her own position was un-ladylike. But her mount felt just right between her legs, slightly warm as if really alive. Remaining as she was, she turned to give her father a wave.

	Wilbur smiled and waved back at his daughter. His daughter - yes, she was his now. He had certainly appreciated the brief show she had inadvertently performed for him. As she had mounted the horse, her legs had been jutting out toward him and her precarious angle allowed him to see up her dress.

	Clementine's black stockings reached barely over her knees, making the bare skin of her thighs even more tantalizing before they disappeared into her bloomers. He could tell her pale legs would be so smooth under his hand, just as the curves of her rump and the small, cleft mound between those thighs would be. His hardness pressed against the front of his woolen trousers as he pictured her undeveloped body nude and splayed on the bed.

	She would surely be shy - just as the others had been. And perhaps frightened as she caught her first sight of his erect maleness - the scepter of his mastery over her. But she would learn to revere it.

	Her lack of bosoms would not deter him from pinching her nipples and nibbling at them to make them stiffen before he slurped them between his lips. When he turned his attention lower, she would likely try to keep her legs together but he would easily over power her and pry them apart so that she could learn her duties to him.

	He wouldn't mind a few tears as he jammed his prick into her soft, childish mons. There would be no resistance until he reached her inner lips. Then would come the moment; her opening as he would charge forward into her bald little cunt, letting the blood from her ruined virginity ease his way into plucking the unripe fruit of her femininity.

	How she would squirm beneath him as he repeatedly rammed his way into her hot, liquidy tightness! He loved it when they did that, making their clutching little twats rub him in different directions as they twisted while he pounded those succulent holes with the good ol' in-and-out. Their high voices serenaded him with their hopeless cries as they were debauched.

	And he was always thorough in his violation. Clementine would then service him in the French style, on her knees before her lord and master while he clutched her golden curls, guiding her suckling young mouth back and forth on his rod.

	During his travels, Wilbur had occasionally used a lad to satisfy his craving for youthful flesh when no girls were available. Clementine would also be taken a like a boy; bent over and grunting while he savaged her dainty rosebud of an asshole with his cock so he could feel the plushness of her interior enveloping him. With his semen poured into her through all three openings, her body would be his.

	Despite his lust, he would be more careful with Clementine. Of the other girls he had purloined - gutter trash who went largely unmissed - none were still around. Two had not possessed the strength to endure what he did to them - rather a shame although they had at least lasted long enough to provide him with two climaxes each. The others had been too full of complaints afterward and he had to send them on their way as he had the ones who hadn't completed his initial attentions. There was always a convenient river to be found to carry away the remainders of his crimes.

	Now Clementine was worthy of keeping. Wilbur knew he would have to take his time with her after he transformed her into his daughter-wife. Looking forward, he could see her as a willing participant as he drew other little girls into their family. Perhaps she would help lure them in and teach them until he had a harem worthy of a sultan.

	Lost in his sordid daydreams, Wilbur failed to notice that the carousel had begun to rotate. Clementine was no longer looking his way as she, too, became lost in her equestrian fantasies. Idling scanning the area, Wilbur locked his eyes onto a red-haired girl of perhaps four of five years as she walked with one hand securely tucked into the grip of a doting older brother's.

	She would be such a tight little thing - while she lasted. It would be a shame but her plump little mouth showed promise. If not for the brother - a strapping young teen - Wilbur might attempt to be off with her, securing her in his carriage until he left the fair with Clementine. Perhaps with Clementine available, he could satisfy himself with just her mouth until she was big enough to take his well-endowed prick without fatal injury. As he eyed the brother, considering how a blow to the back of the head would disable him if done out of sight, he saw the flap shift on a nearby tent.

	In the gap in the canvas, he could see naked leg, slim and small like that of a girl about Clementine's age. A face emerged from the shadows - dark-eyed and grinning with...promise. Did he see a bared shoulder as well? Ah, naked and ready, then! When Wilbur cocked his head, her smile grew wider and he silently praised the notoriously loose manners of carnival people. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the carousel at full speed and then sauntered toward the tent to accept the invitation.

	Whirling on the carousel, Clementine saw moving little figures of riders on horses set on shelves that rung around the center housing of the ride. A closer look allowed her to spy the small metal rods jutting out through slots in the shelves that made the horses and riders move in time with the carousel. How clever!

	As the ride continued, she noticed that the riders were little girls just like herself. They were from different time periods; something she could tell from hours of gazing at a picture book at the orphanage that showed children through the ages. A flaxen-haired girl in a chiton of ancient Greece rode a white horse just behind a girl from perhaps the sixteenth century on a chestnut mount.

	There were several others but the one who captured Clementine's imagination was the black-haired girl in a blue medieval dress who bounced atop a horse whose coat matched her shimmering locks. She was from France in the 1300's. How Clementine knew this, she didn't consider, but Marie (for that was the girl's name) rode quite well for a mere miller's daughter.

	Clementine shook her head for a moment. Was that Marie in the mirrored panels above the shelves in the carousel's center? It was just a ghostly image she had seen but...no, she was there. Marie and her horse were become clearer, more defined yet none of the other riders seemed to notice. She waved at Clementine and when Clementine waved back, she could no longer see her reflection mixed with Marie. The mirror had somehow become a window.

	"Viens avec moi! Viens avec moi!" Marie laughed as she called to her new friend.

	"Come with me," Clementine mentally translated although she knew not a word of French.

	Clementine's horse was moving differently now - not the up-and-down of the carousel's mechanisms but of its own volition. It cantered toward the window - but no, it was now a doorway.

	"Go with her," Clementine whispered excitedly and her mount leapt through the portal, leaving a rider-less wooden horse behind on the carousel.

	As a carnival worker strode by tent near the carousel, he saw an object partially protruding on the ground from the slightly overlapped tent flaps. Pulling it out, he admired the fine headwear and then grinned as he regarded the tent. Someone in there must be very satisfied.

	Wetting a finger, he wiped the small splatters of sticky crimson from the lime green band and went on his way with his splendid new bowler perched jauntily atop his head.

	Astride the swiftly moving beast, Clementine felt as if she were flying. Her straw hat had flown off shortly after her horse landed on the other side of the portal but she didn't care. It felt natural to have her hair whipping behind her, untamed.

	She let out a whoop that she imagined would come from a wild Indian and the girls riding with her all laughed and imitated it. The landscape around her was fantastically alien in the sky and some of the flora, but she didn't care. She was now part of this world, representing her era among the others. It was if she was a new piece in collection, but for what purpose she didn't care.

	With no concept of time, Clementine was not aware that the sky had deepened to an indigo with unfamiliar constellations twinkling when the group slowed to a clearing near a pond. There were other horses milling about and cylindrical bales of hay were strewn about.

	When she dismounted, Clementine's legs felt clumsy and she feared she might fall. But Marie held her and hugged her before kissing her on the mouth. Clementine didn't understand the strange heat she felt from the kiss as it continued. Something pressed between her lips and the blonde was surprised to have the French girl's tongue sliding into her mouth and finding her tongue.

	As her head swam with this contact of Marie's tongue swirling over hers, the other girls crowded in, stroking her and kneading her all over. It was odd but not unpleasant and then she realized that they were removing her clothing.

	Maybe they were going to bathe in the pond. The water certainly looked inviting as the strange stars reflected from its still surface. Since they were all girls here, there was no harm in that. Well, some of the horses were probably boys but that didn't count although Clementine felt awkward in wondering how horses regarded naked little girls.

	But instead, Clementine was laid on top of one of the bales, held in place by some of the other girls while Marie gave her a hungry gaze before slowly lowering her head until she was directly facing Clementine's crotch. Then Marie kissed her there, lightly nibbling before digging at Clementine's hairless slit with that strong and skilled tongue.

	"She's...uh!" Clementine gasped. "My girl parts..."

	"She's getting you ready," said an olive-skinned girl in a dress that looked like something from the bible.

	"Ready?"

	"You will see," the girl continued as she stroked Clementine's hair.

	Miriam liked the feel of the golden curls in her fingers. It was always fun to welcome a newcomer. Miriam knew this well from her time here. Originally from Jerusalem, she had arrived here shortly after witnessing the Roman execution of a mob-inspiring heretic from Galilee.

	Marie was now munching away at Clementine's bald cuntlet with lustful hunger. Clementine did indeed squirm as her departed adoptive father had dreamed she could, whining as her cunny seemed to build a heated stream from inside. Finally, she shivered as Marie forced her first orgasm to bubble over.

	In the glow of her climax, Clementine vaguely wondered why the girls holding her ankles had spread her legs even further. It was uncomfortable but then her eyes widened as she saw the horse she had ridden approaching her. His eyes glowed intelligently with a golden green and he seemed intent on the dripping place that Marie had just orally loved.

	His front hooves easily stepped up on the bale on either side of the girl and then he shifted his body. Clementine stared at the long, dark cylinder of flesh protruding before the horse. It was going right between her thighs. Whimpering, she felt the blunt end press against her tiny mound before her smooth cunt lips spread incredibly wide around the tip.

	Before she could ask what was happening, the stallion slammed his cock into the nine year-old's virgin snatch. Clementine shrieked at the unexpected pain and intrusion. Her inner flesh stretched unimaginably but was unable to prevent the violation of her prepubescent pussy by the huge animal prick. Blood from her sundered maidenhead drooled out over her hairless labia as they were pulled thinly around the plunging meat. The animal forced his dick in until the helpless child's cunny was plugged all the way to the cervix. Everything seemed to stop and Clementine found the will to speak.

	"I'm dying," she croaked.

	"No, you're not," said Brynhild, another blonde girl whose hair was worn in Viking braids. "If you were out there, where we came from before, you might be. You've been breached once but there is one more that must be done so you can be a horse bride like us. That would kill you out there but that will not happen in this place."

	Completely innocent until just very recently, Clementine didn't know what a cervix was. But she felt hers being pushed and finally opening in increments of slow agony. The other girls petted her and crooned soft words but Clementine's heart was hammering as she felt her body becoming irreversibly changed.

	The penis tore through what remained. Clementine's world disappeared in a white mist of heat for a moment. When her senses returned, the nine year-old felt her womb being stretched obscenely by the thrusting horse cock. She feared she would burst and, to her horror, saw her tummy bulge, the skin becoming thin as her meat-filled abdomen expanded.

	With the little girl properly broken, the stallion stroked his massive prick in and out of the snug and tender fuck socket. The prepubescent twat tunnel kissed him wetly as he slid through it. Then came the collar of her permanently altered cervix, clenched like a fleshy ring as he sawed in and out. Finally, the swollen preteen womb, originally meant for child-bearing, no longer had that purpose for a female who would never age. Instead, it provided the last silken receptacle for copulation.

	Choking words of gibberish as spittle foamed from her mouth, Clementine was pinned down while the horse's massive prick pummeled her intimately. With every thrust, her inner flesh burned and she could not stop watching as her belly swelled from the member digging inside it. The roundness suddenly increased and the nine year-old felt searing heat as she was inundated with an incredible amount of equine sperm that further inflated her womb.

	Having seeded his little mate, the horse nickered in satisfaction as he pulled his length from the sweaty little body beneath him. Clementine thought the exit would turn her inside out but her tiny and very juicy girl parts all remained intact as horse slime gurgled from the ravaged interior. This was quite suitable as the next hooved partner sauntered over the girl.

	She was on her stomach, draped over a bale. Feeling the thick jism of her many lovers draining over her bald pussy mound, Clementine wriggled her ass in anticipation. Around her, the other girls were scattered; crying lustfully and assuming different positions on top of the bales as their dripping little cunnies were horse-plumbed.

	She wasn't sure when the change had occurred during the night but now she whined needfully as she heard the plop of heavy hoofs in the ground around her. Strong forelegs stepped over the bale and she felt her tiny twat lubricating again - even before the first touch of animal dick made contact with her round, glistening vulva.

	The thrust was hard, sinking into the tight, meaty channel that so much of her body provided. Groaning appreciatively, Clementine slid her hands under her tummy so she could use them to squeeze the protrusion as the horse cock made her bulge. While it added to the animal's pleasure, the little girl felt her twat heat and drool even more a she felt the meat inside her straining belly between her hands. The swelling disappeared for a moment but then returned on the next stroke. As her soupy and bloated little pussy trembled, Clementine knew her next orgasm was near and she would likely cum yet another time before another load of thick horse cream filled her.

	McKenzie opened her legs as her foster father lifted her onto the merry-go-round horse. As usual, he was holding her by her bottom which felt kind of weird. After all, she was eight years old and not some real little kid who had to be picked up or carried a lot. But Carl, her foster father, often seemed to have a reason to do this.

	As the girl settled into place, her denim shorts rode up to expose lighter skin above the tanned areas of her thighs. Carl gave one smooth limb a friendly, if somewhat lingering, pat before he stepped away. McKenzie tried to dig her sneakered feet into the stirrups of her mount, but her legs were too short. Over the loudspeaker, the attendant was making his usual pre-ride safety announcements but McKenzie was instead checking the mirrored panel in the center of the carousel and liked how she looked on a horse.

	As the ride sped up, Carl saw McKenzie's profile whip by. Damn, but she had a perfect ass - squeezable but compact. Maybe this ride would loosen it up a little for tonight. Having staved off temptation long enough, he had a bottle of lubricant ready for her tonight when he would jam his meat between her fleshy little globes and split that sweet piece of ass meat wide open. She'd make a fuss, for sure, but nothing was going to stop him from making her his little sodomy piglet.

	A movement from the side made him turn and he saw the flaps of a tent shift as if blown by the wind. Some kid about McKenzie's age grinned at him and turned to the side. He could see much of the body except for some white skin in the dimness. There was a leg and part of her torso in profile - was she wearing any clothes?

	Then he got a good like at one tightly curved ass cheek before he saw the smile again - this was Cheshire Cat-like. Well, the merry-go-round would last a few minutes and he couldn't picture his foster daughter wandering off without him. Seeing no one observing him, he took a quick jog to the tent where the flaps remained open just enough...

	The ride was fun but McKenzie really liked all of those mechanical figures of historical girls riding the horses. There was a Viking kid, and some really old ones from times she couldn't tell. There was one from around the Pilgrim times (because she had learned about Thanksgiving in school). Perhaps the most recent girl had pigtails and wore a very short plaid dress with a white collar. McKenzie remembered one foster home where they watched shows from the 1960's on one of those retro channels - that dress could have been worn then.

	She wished they had a newer kid - someone like her. But there was one girl who was becoming her favorite; the one with long blonde curly hair and a dress from the 1880's or 90's. McKenzie had read an American Girl book where the main character from those times dressed like that on the cover.

	Clementine.

	It hadn't been the name of the girl in the book. But McKenzie decided that this blonde girl had that name. It just seemed right.

	Then she did a double take. Clementine was also in the mirror. She sort of looked like a ghost but McKenzie wasn't scared. No, now Clementine was becoming more real. And she was waving at her.

	When Clementine started calling her to join her and the other girls, McKenzie knew she just had to try - somehow. And then to her delight, her horse started to move in a different way than the merry-go-round was doing.


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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