Copyright (c) 2017,   madvlad.  ALL Rights Reserved

Date of first publication in Mr Double's Palisade :
Tuesday, May 30, 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: gettin13.txt
http://www.mrdouble.com


story_codes: MM/g(10), non-cons, cons

story_intro: After getting some extra-rough abuse form her stepfather, Sandra chooses to stay away form her friends for a few days until the bruises fade. Feeling low, she wanders the trailer park and meet a new neighbor who has also reached a low point in his life. They both find solace in a way neither was expecting an hour before.


story_language: English



Getting Directions, Story 13

Written by madvlad


	The man's cock ripped into the slick, childish twat tube with particularly vicious force. The ten year-old on her hands and knees in front of him barked in pain as she jerked forward, her golden locks swinging. With his finger's digging into her immature hips, the man pulled her onto his hardness as he tried to bore into her cervix. While he knew he couldn't actually accomplishment, watching the girl writhe in pain was worth the effort. The little bitch needed this lesson on her purpose in life.

	"I oughtta fuck you right into your belly," Van growled. "Open up the other end of your whore hole and go right in."

	"Oh Daddy," Sandra gasped. "Your cock feels good anywhere in me."

	"And don't you forget it," he warned. "Maybe I should have kept my cock from you for punishment."

	"Not that, Daddy. Please, not that. I said I didn't mean it. I'm so sorry."

	Actually, Sandra wouldn't have minded Van ignoring her at all. 

	"I guess I'm spoiling you," Van replied as he roughly worked his prick into his stepdaughter's tight, preteen snatch.

	Not quite a week ago, Sandra had returned from spending the night at her friend's home (or so he thought). Van had been fantasizing about Sandra's chubby friend, Chyna, and how he'd like to rape her plump young ass to pieces. When Sandra passed by the open bedroom door, Van had shown her his hard-on and expected her to pleasure him since her mother was passed out drunk.
But the girl had laughed at him. 

	Laughed at him!

	And then his dick went limp. The bitch had killed his hard-on. 

	He had played it cool for a week, waiting until Sandra's mother would be out of the house all day. First, he knocked the girl around a bit, giving her some good bruises. Then he showed her why there would never be a man like him to fuck her. Yeah, he ruined all other men for her because no one could fuck like him.

	First he had done her ass. It wasn't plump and wobbly like the enticingly generous rolls under Chyna's shorts. No, Sandra's rear was high and compact; mostly golden tanned but with a bit of white to match the shade on her cunny and the triangles around her flat nipples. Those satiny cheeks had been spread for his dick has he gave her one of his patented "reaming and creaming" jobs. Even though he was pissed off at her, he couldn't deny the joy of having her young asshole clamping so hard on his tool as he plunged into the moist warmth of her anal chute. 

	After a brutal buggering left the ten year-old's rectum aching and sticky with semen, he had made her use her mouth on him. Her ass may have felt great on his cock, but she clearly didn't like how it tasted on there. Too fucking bad - he had rammed his way into her throat, holding her by her hair as she swallowed his meat. When he came, she had something else to swallow.

	Even a stud like Van needed a break after cumming twice. Two beers later, though, he had her sweet little pussy straining as he used her like the whore she was. As he often preferred, he took her doggy-style. It made him feel more powerful and reinforced to Sandra that she was just a low-life bitch who should be grateful for getting her stepdaddy's dick.

	And no matter how much he fucked her, Sandra's little cunt hole remained gloriously snug on his meat. The friction inside made her young twat drool and he could hear it gurgling as he kept plugging away through the small, hairless opening. With his balls quivering, Van came heartily despite his two recent loads. Feeling the boiling fluid coursing through his penis, the man inseminated his stepdaughter's immature baby box.

	"I'm done," he said as he slapped Sandra off the bed. "Now clean your filthy-whore ass before your mama gets home."

	The girl tumbled to the stained linoleum with a grunt. Her eyes were reddened and her cheeks were tear-stained. Grunting with satisfaction, Van noted how her bald cunt was also leaking. 

	"Thank you, Daddy," Sandra croaked.

	She left the room on her hands and knees - humiliating, but a better way to leave Van satisfied with his imagined mastery.

	The soil surrendered the last of the tall weeds with a burst of brown debris that settled into the sparse grass. Ted grunted with the effort and satisfaction. He would wait until later to spread the new grass seed; when it was a little cooler. Then he'd have to be diligent in watering but he had a new garden hose coiled at the ready.

	He took his gloves off and clapped them together to remove some of the dusty grime. Surveying the small plot of land on which his trailer home sat, he could see the signs of improvement since he moved in two weeks ago. Knobby Shoals Mobile Home Estates might be the armpit of this side of the river, but Ted was determined to make his little part of it not stink so much.

	Having earned a break from the sun, he decided to go inside and do a little computer work. It was part-time stuff, processing claims for several on-line retailers, and not much money. But Ted figured it wouldn't hurt to supplement his disability pay which he'd get regardless. More importantly, like fixing up his home, it gave home some routine in a life that had gone adrift.

	To his pleasant surprise, he found he liked doing that computer work - fixing people's small problems. Not the sort of thing that would ever win him a Nobel, but it did give him satisfaction of helping anonymous people without the need for face-time.

	Face-time, he mused, running his fingers over the scarred ruin of his left face. He'd never bother interviewing for a job that required that since he was at a fifty percent disadvantage. 

	Although she had been enduring Van's ill treatment for several years, Sandra found it weighing on her more heavily now. Would she wind up being like her mother - living in squalor while the only man she could find who would stay with her was raping her daughter behind her back? Sandra what her mother thought of her life - or if the woman no longer cared because the future was going to be the same as last week. 

	Maybe Van was right about her. She'd be washed up and hoping some man would get between her legs now and then. Aside from Van, Sandra enjoyed sex with the men who came by the hill. It was not just the act but the brief escapes the encounters offered. Although she still had a small but growing nest egg for her fantasy to run away, Sandra found herself becoming more unsure of everything.

	She wouldn't be going out to the hill today. And not for the next few days. Thanks to Van, she was sporting some bruises on her face and didn't want to the other girls to see her like this. 

	Her aimless wandering took her to a corner of the trailer park. The first things she noticed were the garden bags of weeds. Not many people bothered with yard work around here. A man in his mid-twenties was standing with his side to her, staring into nothing. He must be new. 

	"Hi," she called.

	The man didn't turn but the one eye she could see slid toward her. 

	"Hi," he muttered, waving a hand in half-greeting and half-dismissal.

	Feeling a bit lonely, she tried to carry a conversation.

	"Your yard is looking nice."

	"Just getting started."

	What an odd person, Sandra thought. He just kept looking off to the side. Oh well.

	"Did you just move in?"

	"Yeah."

	"Well, I can show you around, if you want."

	"There's not much to be shown," he grumbled.

	"Well, jeez, Mister," Sandra pouted. "You're not much for making friends."

	"No I'm not," Ted agreed as he turned to face her.

	"YAH!" Sandra yelped.

	But Ted didn't turn away. Instead he stared at her straight-on.

	"Something wrong?" he asked casually.

	"No...well....you just kind of scared me. What happened to you?"

	"Afghanistan."

	"Oh. I've heard of that."

	They stood there in an awkward silence, neither one looking away.

	"So what are you going to say next?" Ted bitterly asked. "It's not that bad?"

	"Gee, I'm sorry, Mister, but it is really bad."

	To her surprise, the man laughed.

	"Thanks," he wheezed. "I don't get many honest answers. Most folks think it's easier to pretend it's not that bad. It's like they pretend I don't exist."

	"Nope, you're here. Oh, and I'm Sandra."

	"Ted," he replied as he walked over and shook her hand. Sandra never looked away. "Looks like you've had some problems, too," he said as he regarded the bruises on one side of her face.

	"I fell."

	"On whose hand?" he countered.

	Seeing Sandra tense up, Ted apologized.

	"Never mind," he sighed. "Aren't we one hell of a couple?"

	"Yeah," she answered with a smile.

	"Hey, it's kind of hot out here. You want a Coke?"

	"Sure," she said and followed him in.

	It wasn't until she stepped into air-conditioned kitchen that Ted realized he had brought a little girl into his house. What would his neighbors (if they were awake and sober) think? Then again, he had given up caring about what others thought. 

	For her part, Sandra thought his place was pretty nice. It was certainly the cleanest trailer she had been in - even a little cleaner than Chyna's and her Uncle Dwayne's. When Ted opened the refrigerator to take out two cokes, she was surprised to see no beer.

	"Not a beer drinker, huh?" she asked.

	Ted snorted. 

	"Not a shy one, huh?" he answered with a grin. "No, I'm on pain meds. Mixing it with alcohol could give me troubles.  The VA still has a few more surgeries for me, including my face. The hope is that they can improve me from gruesome to horrible."

	Sandra laughed and Ted joined her. As they talked more about inconsequential things, Ted found himself drawn to her legs. They were slim but well-toned with a golden tan that went well with her long blonde locks. Although he kept reminding himself that she was just kid, he couldn't help looking, following the smooth skin up her thighs and into the mystery beneath her cut-off shorts. The girl had poise, too, and carried herself with surprising maturity. He had gone so long without a woman and wondered if he could even pay anyone while his appearance was like this. 

	Watching her new friend, Sandra was well aware of where his eyes tracked. When he caught himself and stopped (again and again), she wanted to laugh. But he didn't care about her bruises and she liked feeling desirable.

	"So do you have a girlfriend?" she asked.

	"Seriously? That's never going to happen again. No matter what they do at...hey!"

	In one fluid move, Sandra stood and peeled her t-shirt off. Standing in just her short and sneakers, Sandra's girlish body, something Ted would have dismissed before, looked excruciatingly tempting. Keeping her eyes locked on Ted's, Sandra slid her hands up until they were on her chest with her fingers parted to show her nipples.

	"I don't have anything here, yet," she cooed. "But I still like to be touched there. And when I do grow there, you'll have already felt me."

	Ted swallowed hard.

	"Look, Sandra, we shouldn't..."

	"Ted," Sandra said softly as she kicked off her sneakers. "Around here, most of us girls lost our cherries before we lost all our baby teeth. I sure did."

	Ted wasn't sure what to say and could only stare as Sandra unbuttoned her shorts and pushed them down those golden legs of hers. It wasn't until she was stepping out of them that he realized she wasn't wearing any panties. She had a child's sex - hairless and with the lips closed demurely. And Ted wanted her desperately. 

	Sandra took him by the hand and found his bedroom. For Ted, it was surreal. He had led men into a combat and here he was stumbling after a little girl in the nude. Then he found himself sitting on his bed with Sandra as she removed his clothes. 

	There were more scars - some even more embarrassing than his face. Those were uncomfortable as he inevitably grew hard while she fondled him. At least that part of him had remained in one piece. Still, he winced as the some of the tissue stretched.

	"Does it hurt?" she asked.

	"Yeah, a little. But once it stops growing, it kind of settles out."

	Sandra leaned down and tenderly licked his scars there, tracing each line with her tongue. Then she brought herself up and kissed his cheek on the scarred side of his face. It was the touch of angel to him - an underage, naked angel with some unchurch-like intent.

	"I've been hurt, too," she said. "Please be nice to me."

	She was begging and then nudged Ted backward. He lay back against his pillow, putting his hands on Sandra's waist to help her balance as she straddled him. The smoothness of her small mound opened for him, her labia hugging him as she slid down. She was wet for him at her entrance and shuddered, her tongue dabbing at her lower lip as he entered her.

	Although she was still sore from Van's abuse, Sandra welcomed this other man into her. He was everything that Van believed he was. But with Van it was all lies. Sinking onto his member, the nectar-lined sheath of the ten year-old kissed him ever more deeply. Ted watched incredulously as his cock disappeared inside the girl's slender form. 

	When the ridges on his shaft, created by hot metal three years earlier, scraped against her taut inner lining, Sandra gasped.

	"Are you alright" Ted asked urgently.

	Sandra paused confused, before a coquettish smile bloomed on her lips.

	"Your scars," she said. "They're kind of fun inside me."

	There were no more words, only motions and sensations as the girl slowly rode the man. Slits of sunshine came through the Venetian blinds, painting the young girl's torso with bright stripes to make her appear as an even more exotic creature. Undulating as she moved up and down, Sandra squeezed him with her muscles, accentuating the pressure against his scars and making her body glow with sweat. Her tongue moved more swiftly, trying to keep her parted lips wet.

	The liquid noises were whispery with the movement between the man and the child. Sandra's juices covered them both where they met; where his thick and scarred member churned between her unblemished labia. Her breathing was becoming ragged and Ted felt his need painfully needing to let go as he plumbed the buttery heat of the ten year-old's sex.

	Sandra twisted her hips, bringing her climax to its peak as her g-spot pressed against his scars. Her smooth, gleaming figure swayed on her lover, giving the illusion of having curves her body had not yet developed. Then she jolted as Ted came, pumping his seed into her in long, heavy cords.

	When they were finished, Sandra stayed on top of him, unsure. Ted guided her down onto his chest but keeping her in place so that they remained joined. There were more scars there but Sandra liked the roughness against her bruised cheek when she turned her head to rest there. Ted's hands caressed her body from the nape of her neck to the small of her back.

	A little later, he hands slipped lower, exploring the contours of her little rump. Feeling him thicken inside of her, Sandra smiled and lifted her head to look into his face.

	"Something you said when we were outside - aint we one hell of a couple?"

	"Aren't"

	"Huh?"

	"Aren't we one hell of a couple? Not 'aint'. You'll have to excuse me - my mother's an English teacher."

	Sandra lifted herself with her arms, planting her hands on his chest. Then she pressed with her pelvis and felt his reaction inside the tight, soupy confines of her loins.

	"Aren't we one hell of a couple?" she giggled.



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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