Copyright (c) 2012,   madvlad.  ALL Rights Reserved

Date of first publication in Mr Double's Palisade :
Tuesday, July 10, 2012

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





story_codes: M/g, first, cons

story_intro: A timely tale of politics, sex, and family values coming together when a little girl is used to cement a key campaign alliance. Hopefully, this will inspire the readers to get out there and vote - early and often.

story_language: English




The Candidate's Daughter

Written by madvlad


	The party was gearing up to full swing with a first rate jazz band on stage while servers circulated with expensive wine and champagne when they weren't offering trays of gourmet hors d'oeuvres. Several side tables contained more food with a chef standing by to carve some prime rib. The open bar was incredibly stocked with the best in beer and liquor. The guests were some of the state's richest and most powerful, mixed in with a healthy dose of celebrities of all walks.

	Kendall Burgess was completely unimpressed. He had seen it all before more times than he could be bothered to count. Tonight's gala was a campaign fundraiser for Bob Wilcox, a successful and photogenic businessman who was running for governor. But the stakes for Wilcox tonight were much higher than mere cash - he needed Burgess.

	Burgess was what was known in political circles as a fixer. He could unite seemingly disparate groups together for - or against - a cause or a candidate. It had taken years of cultivating contacts, refining his talent, and extracting secrets that had given Burgess his prowess and well-deserved reputation, even if no one in the general public knew who he was. In fact, it was better for him that they didn't.

	He certainly didn't look a prime mover in the political machine. Now in his early fifties, his girth was expanding in ways that even the best tailored suits could not hide. But Burgess no longer cared as he wasn't called upon for his looks anyway. Despite his widening waistline, he wasn't flabby. His body fat was packed tight and hard, almost like a layer of armor. When his hair thinned too much on top, he simply took to shaving his head so he wouldn't waste time trying to keep his few remaining strands in place. 

	In their one prior meeting, Wilcox had said and done all of the things a candidate should - which meant nothing to Burgess. The fixer only threw his support behind those who had an edge, who dug deeply in the dirt and weren't afraid to use what they found. Wilcox was a milquetoast. But, Burgess had to appear tonight so that Wilcox' opponent - who was only marginally more worthy than Wilcox in Burgess' eyes - would up the ante in exchange for Burgess' services.

	As Burgess sipped on his rum and coke (prepared just the way he liked it - with a tumbler full of rum and a shot of coke), he saw Wilcox grinning and waving him older. A quick look showed Burgess that the businessman had his family gathered around him in an attempt to show Burgess that he was a family man, which was always good in the polls. Burgess couldn't give a shit. But, business was business, so he lumbered over to where everyone in the know could see him mingling with the Wilcox clan.

	Bob Wilcox was five years younger than Burgess, with dark hair and blue eyes with just enough laugh lines around them to give the candidate a hint of devilish ruggedness. His wife, Deirdre, had caramel-colored hair and expressive brown eyes. A fanatical fitness regimen and some tasteful cosmetic surgery kept her looking a few years younger than her husband although they had met in college. The publicists said they had discovered each other at a human rights rally, but Burgess knew damn well they had woken up naked next to each other in the grungy basement of Wilcox's frat house with no idea what they had done together the night before - although the fluid stains must given them a pretty good idea.

	After meeting the couple, Burgess was introduced to their four daughters. At least this part would be somewhat entertaining as he harbored a serious fetish for underage girls. He smiled politely, maintaining an otherwise neutral look on his face while he thought lewd things about each girl. 

	"This is our oldest, Marcia. She'll be graduating high school next year.

	Burgess admired her bust, thinking this girl did not need a bra to hold those orbs up and at attention. He'd love to bury his face in that cleavage and teach her what tits were for besides being squeeze toys for teenaged boys.

	"Trudy, our next is fifteen. Straight A's all through school."

	If he was a teacher, Burgess thought, he'd make her earn straight A's though oral exams. What a mouth on this kid. Anytime those lips weren't sealed around some fat prick, Trudy was simply wasting time.

	"Evie is fourteen and quite a soccer player."

	Burgess was a supporter of youth sports - and here was a prime example why. Even through her dress, it was apparent when she turned that Evie had an ass worth killing for. Burgess could arrange that - and then spend a few hours with the young teen bent over her daddy's desk while he drove between those sweet ass cheeks.

	"And this is Cynthia. Born just eight years ago, we had our little surprise."

	Cynthia had her father's coloring with her pale blue eyes and lightly tanned skin. The way her brunette hair was cut just above the collar of her white silk blouse made the girl seem more mature for her age. Burgess thought of what was hidden beneath her maroon velvet dress and thought she's make a wonderfully tight squeeze on his dick.

	After a few minutes of meaningless hobnobbing, Burgess leaned toward Wilcox and spoke quietly.

	"I need to make some calls. Is there a room for me?"

	"Of course. It's just down that hall - Room 112."

	"Thanks."

	Whenever Burgess attended a function, it was always made clear in advance that he must have a room at the ready in order to conduct business in private. The governor's race was only one of eleven issues he was working on at the moment.

	Room 112 had a bar at the ready along with a table and an overstuffed reclining chair. Burgess made himself a double rum and coke and eased his bulk into the chair. He had just finished his second call when there was a light tapping on the door. It opened to let a small figure in before the figure quickly and quietly closed it again. It was Cynthia.

	"My daddy sent me to see if there was anything you need, Mr. Burgess."

	Burgess lifted his mostly full glass for her to see.

	"I'm good," he said.

	"Then what about something else?"

	Burgess was about to speak when he saw the girl unbutton her blouse. Was she kidding? No, not at that age.

	Burgess quickly re-evaluated Wilcox. So the man had found something out. And rather than use it to coerce him (others had tried that and had failed miserably and even fatally), the man was using his own baby daughter as a whore. Wilcox just might be the kind of hard son of a bitch that Burgess could do business with - if the kid was going to go all the way.

	Cynthia's blouse rustled to the floor, making Burgess focus once more on her body. Her chest and tummy were perfectly flat and her small pink nipples stiffened as she plucked at them with her fingers.

	"Mmmmm. That feels good," she murmured.

	So far, so good. Burgess did nothing except to sip his drink while he watched the girl undress. She kicked her shoes off and unsnapped her skirt, letting it fall down her slim legs. Stepping out of the clothing, she walked closer to Burgess and then slowly turned around, showing off her undeveloped body.

	Cynthia was now dressed in only a pair of black lace panties that displayed bits of the smooth bulge in her crotch and a shadowy hint of the all-important slit. They were perhaps a size too small, riding up and in between the perky globes of the child's buttocks. Burgess wondered what kind of place sold sexy lingerie in sizes that were even a bit small for an eight year-old.

	Swallowing noticeably, Cynthia slid her panties off, revealing her hairless young snatch to the man more than forty years her senior. Burgess reached out and took one of Cynthia's ass cheeks in his hand, squeezing and feeling the flesh spring back into shape.

	"Let me get a good look at you," he said and pulled her in.

	Her little mons was soft and full, the smooth flesh bulging slightly below the flatness of her lower belly and pubis. It looked shiny, possibly wet, near the slit, prompting Burgess to investigate further. Cynthia shivered when she felt the man's fingers make contact with her sex. When Burgess traced his finger over her slit, he found the wetness to actually be some sort of gel.

	"How man times have you done this before?" he asked the girl.

	"This is my first time."

	Burgess barked out a laugh.

	"If I had a politician for every time I heard that one, I'd own Congress ten times over at least!"

	Burgess slid a thick finger between the little girl's smooth, greased labia and felt the tighter ring of her inner lips. Getting past that, his progress was soon stopped by the resistance of something else. Burgess' eyebrows floated upward on his forehead.

	"Damn, this is your first time. Not that I'm complaining, but why were you chosen ahead of your older sisters?"

	"They've helped daddy with some of his business deals. Trudy even got to spend a whole summer on someone's yacht a few years ago. Everyone said I could help now."

	"Does your mother know?"

	Cynthia looked surprised by the question.

	"Well, sure she does. She and Daddy and my sisters all helped teach me how to act."

	What a family, Burgess thought. It looked like Cynthia was getting some of her sisters' best attributes. Her scrumptious lips looked to be a match for Trudy's and her ass was on track to be just like Evie's. Whether her boyish chest would ever sprout a pair if titties like Marcia's remained to be seen.

	Although he would have liked to spend more time with this little girl, Burgess was on a limited schedule this evening. There would be time for more fondling and fingering later, but for now it was pussy time.
 
He unbuckled his belt, and unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. After pulling down his shorts, he lifted the child up in his lap before raising her again to press his throbbing boner against her cunny. Working the head inside, he shifted her around, getting her ready for her defloration. Cynthia moaned and gyrated her hips, but Burgess knew bullshit when he saw it.

	"Stop that. I won't have you faking it."

	Cynthia was stunned by his rebuke.

	"I'm sorry, but this is what I was supposed to do."

	"When you're with me, you'll cum for real. Do your sisters always fake it?"

	Cynthia chewed on her lips for a moment before responding.

	"Uh huh. At least some of the time. They mentioned cumming, but I don't know what it's like. It sounds kind of scary"

	"It's not - you'll find that out real soon."

	Burgess liked to make girls cum. It was mind-blowingly erotic to have that kind of power - and it kept them coming back to him for more. As he got ready to pull Cynthia down on his prick, she whimpered nervously. 

	"Please be careful, I'm still scared," she begged.

	The confident young vixen was no more. Her slender legs were spread and the presence of his fat prick head inside her tiny pussy made her hairless mound bulge obscenely between her small limbs. That, and the way her wide blue eyes shined wetly made her look more like the vulnerable little girl she really was. 

	And Burgess loved it.

	He yanked her down, tearing her cherry apart and punching into her small, virgin quim. Cynthia cried out as her hymen failed her, allowing the man's cock to plow into her body.
Burgess chuckled as she tried to cope with the amount of meat that was stretching her on the inside. She looked between her legs in disbelief at the shaft was sticking into her distorted pussy.

	Burgess took one of Cynthia's hands and guided it to her pussy so she could feel where their bodies were now connected. With his fingers guiding hers, he soon had the child playing well with her clit, giving her something to fix upon instead of the shock of her defloration.

	With Cynthia pleasuring herself, he bounced her up and down on his cock. Heaven was this little girl pussy, clenching all around his prick with hot, wet fury as he drove in and out of her. Cynthia was gasping and panting and Burgess was nearing the end as well.

	"Press that button against me. Harder!" he ordered.

	Cynthia did as he was told, mashing her clit against his sliding rod. And she went off like a firecracker, twisting on his shaft as she rode it up and down. Having that tight, slippery kiddy cunt churning on his cock set Burgess off and he filled the eight year-old's womb with his thick jism in short order. 

	Cynthia swayed dizzily on his dick as she felt her childish body get injected with sperm. Lifting her hand from her crotch, she exclaimed as she saw the blood on her fingertips.

	"Was that from me?" she asked.

	"Oh yeah, you're well and truly popped now."

	Cynthia fixed her eyes on his.

	"Did I cum right?"

	"You damn sure did."

	Cynthia nodded and thought for a moment, remembering what she had been told to do.
Gingerly, she tried to get off of his cock, telling him she had to go. But Burgess grabbed her by the waist.

	"You go when I tell you to go, little girl."

	Cynthia could feel Burgess' member stiffening inside her skewered little twat. She grunted as it made her tunnel expand again. Keeping her planted on his dick, Burgess got up from the chair with surprising agility for such a large man. He stepped up to the table and laid her down on it. A man of voracious appetites, Burgess was proud that he could always cum three of four times in a relatively short amount of time.

	Moving his hips, he began to fuck the child again, he massive prick squeezing the semen from her little snatch with every stroke. Cynthia's arms were spreads wide and her chest quickly rose and fell with her heavy breaths as the man made her snug and squishy cuntlet his personal playground. With an animalistic grunt, Burgess inseminated the little girl's sex again.

	After pausing to catch his breath and empty his glass, Burgess reached for Cynthia again. The girl was confused at first as he rotated her until she was face down on the table. He pulled her back just enough so that her pussy was resting on the table's edge.

	His prick was engorged again, making Cynthia's small pussy strain from the mass inside it. The stroking began again, this time at full speed. Burgess pressed down as he shoved his cock inside the little girl, pressing her stretched mound against the table edge.

	"Guh!" Cynthia blurted as her cunt responded to its internal and external forces. 

	"Yeah, you like it hard, don't you?" Burgess panted as rammed his way into the child over and over.

	Cynthia's only response was a keening whine as her tiny quim was pummeled. The whines stopped with a short cry as she came. But no sooner had she finished when the tremors started anew as Burgess never broke pace. Pinned between the huge man with his rampaging cock in her pussy and the unyielding table, the eight year-old could do nothing to but lie there as she was forced to cum again. In mid climax, she felt Burgess' cock swell and her prepubescent womb was washed again with a hot helping of sperm.

	Burgess pulled out, leaving the little girl lying with her legs dangling as her little twat drained. He cleaned himself up with napkins before helping her off the table. After giving her a cursory wipe down, he had her step into her panties and yanked them tight against her crotch. More spunk was oozing from her cunt and he knew her panties would be stuck to her body when she finally got to remove them later.

	Burgess envisioned further visits with her - much longer ones with all sorts of interesting devices and things to try. And there was still her mouth and ass to break in along with more pussy pleasures. Well, that's how her darling daddy was going to get his programs through the legislature, wasn't it? 

	"Are you going back to the party, Cynthia?" he asked as she finished dressing.

	"Yes," she said and walked toward the door. 

	It seemed like her balance was a little unsteady, but it was a result of all the hard work that had been done between her legs.

	"Be sure to think of me there every time you feel another wet trickle down you leg," Burgess said with a laugh.

	Cynthia blushed and nodded. Fortunately, she was wearing a calf-length skirt and high white socks, so that wetness would not be visible by others.

	"Oh, and Cynthia?"

	"Yes?"

	"Be sure to pass along a message to your father."

	"What is it?"

	"Tell him I said, 'Hello, Mr. Governor.'"



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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