Copyright (c) 2017,   madvlad.  ALL Rights Reserved

Date of first publication in Mr Double's Palisade :
Monday, December 18, 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: wendria1.txt
http://www.mrdouble.com

story_codes: MM/g(11) Male/pre-teen girl, FFF+/g Female//pre-teen girl, non-cons, semi-cons

story_intro: On a world colonized centuries ago, new technologies have replaced some of what was lost before. Amelia has the ability to pilot small aircraft and this has won the girl liberation from the abuse she suffered in an orphanage. But the outside world has its own dangers and there are some men who think Amelia's preteen body is meant for their rough pleasure. And they are not the only ones.


story_language: English




Wendria: Story 1 - The Cloud Skippers

Written by madvlad


comments_readers: This is the start of an ongoing story with some sci-fi and steampunk elements to it. Stories will be published in batches. Some of them introduce characters or plotlines while others are stand-alone set in this world.

---

	The deck crews scurried about, intent on their job, and paid no attention to the slight figure approaching one of the lightweight, single-pilot courier craft parked near the starboard side. Like the others, the girl was focused on her job, which involved checking her vehicle. A blending of ores on Wendria produced a tough but light alloy suited to all air vessels.

	Amelia carefully inspected the structural joins and utility connections before lifting the burn chamber cover to inspect the block of blue crystal residing there. There were no fissures and the color looked uniform - all good signs of integrity.

	When the pilgrimage vessels had left the place they called Old Home two centuries ago, they did not have the capacity to bring fuel reserves to support the colonies to be made on Wendria. The travelers understood that much of the technology they brought with them would fall to the wayside as they made a fresh start. Within two generations, the assumptions were proven correct.

	However, this planet produced a crystalline mineral the new arrivals named azurine. Although safe to hold, it possessed the capability of generating heat or direct current electricity when shaped and faceted and either encased in or connected to various alloys. While not nearly as powerful as the ion reactors the legends claim that propelled the pilgrims from Old Home, azurine was sufficient for the needs of the descendants on Wendria.

	In Amelia's case, brick-sized azurine crystals powered the nimble vehicles used to convey packages and secure communications. They could stay aloft for hours and the pilots had a natural instinct for catching air currents to prolong fuel and to speed their journeys. Often, these talents included the use of clouds to bank from and catch another high breeze. This is what gave them the nickname, "cloud skippers".

	It was thought that this cloud-skipping ability was one of the mutations spawned by the unique properties of Wendria. Not everyone had them and in this case there was little correlation between the cloud skippers and where they lived.

	Finished with her inspection, Amelia stood and admired the view of southern coast of Anglia, her home continent. Her golden eyes were a nearly exact match to her blonde hair. While her hair was of an Old Home type, her eyes, so she heard, were not. It made little difference to Wendrians as Old Home increasingly became some world from the storybooks, residing in tales of long ago.

	Beneath her feet, the flight deck throbbed to the beat of the massive propellers that moved the strato-ship. The mammoth vessel was a "dual-az" type, meaning it used azurine for both heat in keeping the dirigibles inflated with heated air and for the electricity that drove the propellers.

	Having spent the night aboard the strato-ship while awaiting more packets to convey on her return to Yorkton, Amelia let her imagination run toward the future where she dreamed of sailing a strato to all of the twenty-six inhabited continents and the smaller island countries. Although she had once memorized the names of all of the larger land masses during her school days at the orphanage, she had forgotten some. But it was the exotic names of the big capital cities that stirred her imagination; Seattle, Mayaguez, Bucharest - they danced like spice on her tongue when she whispered them.

	But at eleven, Amelia's orphanage days had been over for four months since she passed her cloud skipper qualification. Not that the orphanage was all that bad, but becoming a cloud skipper meant another measure of freedom and a move toward her wandering dreams. Article XIV of the Trinity Seas Accords had given autonomy to those under-aged people with certain skills, including cloud skippers.

	In the orphanage, the girl's name had been Amille. But having read of a woman who explored the skies of ancient Old World, she had changed it to Amelia. Upon receiving her certification, Amelia resided in a cloud skipper's dorm near Heathrow, the aerodrome that served Anglia's capital city of Yorkton. Perhaps one day she'd join one of the guild-clans of cloud skippers who had their own group homes and made their own rules within. Opalline House, in particular, caught her admiration. It consisted solely of females and from even her orphanage days, Amelia had to endure the lurid attentions of some males.

	She sighed as she rubbed the snug, brown leather seat of her pants where a bruise from a pinch on her left buttock still bothered her when she sat on it wrong. Of course, some males had been interested in her since she was eight. Maybe it would get better when she started to mature. With that thought, she briefly focused on the feel of the leather jacket across her flat chest and how it pressed against her nipples through the thin, short chemise she wore beneath it.

	About a month ago, her nipples, while still completely childish in shape and size, had become more sensitive. That wasn't uncommon at this age although puberty wouldn't begin in earnest until she was sixteen or seventeen. Amelia had once heard that on Old World, girls at her age would begin to develop. Whether that was just legend or that later puberty was a result of Wendria, she didn't know or much care. But if she had started growing boobs at the age of eleven, right here and now, she'd be a freak.

	As it was, she was already "different" in her designation as a cloud skipper. In Anglia, as in most Wendrian continents, girls and ladies both young and old wore dresses. There were, of course, scandalous tales of Old Home where pants were common on the female figure but those were often dismissed as ridiculous. But for cloud skippers, dresses were impractical to wear if not impossible. And since so few had the ability to handle this work, societal norms expanded in this one small regard.

	Amelia had found wearing pants to be rather bizarre when she first took instruction flights but quickly got used to them to the point where she even preferred them as they signified her status. She also understood that they provided a little more protection than dresses that could be easily lifted by the wrong people. Yes, pants offered more protection - but not complete protection.

	"You're loaded up, Missy."

	Startled, Amelia turned to see a deck hand standing by her skipper craft. The sturdy containers, called saddlebags for some archaic reason she didn't know of, were attached.

	"Thanks," she said.

	After the deck hand gave her a vague but friendly saluting motion, he turned to walk away but Amelia called to him.

	"Is it true that you guys are going to the Mithlands for recon?" she asked.

	"Yeah, just mapping," he replied. "No big secret."

	"Are they looking for, you know, Others?"

	It was widely believed that other sentient species existed on Wendria, despite the official denials of the Federated Continents. The deckhand gave a noncommittal shrug but added an oh-so-small smug grin that either confirmed the rumor or was just a play at knowing something he really didn't.

	Amelia harrumphed and then donned and fastened her leather helmet before straddling her skipper. While sliding her goggles into place, another deck hand, a "toss jockey", clicked a cable in place between the handle bars of Amelia's craft. They exchanged thumbs up and then Amelia gripped the handles and engaged the throttle.

	She could feel the subtle thrum in her legs and rear and, as she leaned forward, some of it in the crotch. For a moment, she recalled the time a few months ago when, during her first prolonged solo flight, she learned the meaning behind the term, "wet-tuned" as it pertained to how a properly tuned skipper engine ran with a female pilot.

	Amelia grinned, knowing she had a good five hours to Heathrow and would be pleasantly familiar with the engine's parameters by the time she arrived. While she had heard about the mysterious act of orgasms, talk among female pilots was that you'd really have to work hard to get that far in flight - a dangerous thing to do if you weren't concentrating on why you were up there in the first place. Still, a nice, milder wet-tuning was never too distracting.

	A crane swung the cable and Amelia's skipper was pulled out from the tracks on the flight deck. About three kilometers above the Wendrian surface, she was flung out into the cold morning air. Giving the skipper more throttle, she felt it pushing against the toss cable, so named for how it launched small craft. With her thumb, she keyed the release latch and angled slightly downward to fly clear of the cable.

	It was a maneuver that flunked many would-be cloud skippers but Amelia's only challenge was to rein in her desire to whip her craft freely about to enjoy every cross-wind she could find. But it would not look professional to the control crew on the strato and she didn't want to make that kind of impression if she ever wanted to get a warrant to serve aboard one.

	Instead, she arced away from the huge craft, jigging into a slipstream that would take her over the western end of the Hillary Mountains. It was a glorious morning for flight and she enjoyed the view from a perspective that precious few could know. The sun sparkled on the amethyst water of Lake Wordsworth and she could see the great fork that spawned the Medway and Avon Rivers.

	A little more than two hours later, another mountain range marked the halfway mark of her journey. She was making good time. The Kengrell Mountains spawned other local evolutionary changes to the people who had settled there as well as giving them their name. Kengrells - the people - were easy to spot by their eyes which held a weirdly pale cast to whatever color the iris held and made them glow softly in the right light. Whether it was their culture or other changes that made many of them quirky in personality, no one was sure. But they were not welcome in the finer circles of Anglian society and were rarely even hired as servants for the elite families in the Mayfair, Cavendish, and Kensington districts of Yorkton.

	Beyond the Kengrell peaks, she could spy the great steam plumes of Manchester which marked her path back to Yorkton. She rocked her skipper, waddling in mid-air until she found a wind more to her liking.

	After landing, Amelia detached the saddle bags while ground techs serviced the skipper. She grunted as she hefted them over her shoulder and made her way to the shipping office. The counter was high but she was glad that Barney, the chief clerk was there and he easily lifted the loads from her narrow shoulders.

	Unlike many others, Barney was one man she didn't mind seeing. He was certainly old enough to be her father, perhaps even her grandfather if one judged him by his shaggy gray hair.

	It was warm on the ground and Amelia removed her jacket while Barney logged her delivery. Her chemise stuck to her torso, looking slightly transparent. When she started to develop, she'd have to take more modest measures but for now she had no worries.

	Setting his pen down, Barney pulled a box from under the counter.

	"I need your help," he said as she slid the box toward the girl. "Jula berries and caramel."

	Amelia's mouth watered as she helped herself to two cookies. The bits of pink fruit in them made a smear on her lips which she quickly licked clean.

	"So what's your wife plotting now?" she asked, playing along with Barney's running joke about his wife's evil baking intentions.

	A grin spread across the man's round and pleasant face as he leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner.

	"I think she's trying to fatten me up to make a roast for Candlemas dinner next month."

	Amelia giggled. She had met the woman once since she became a cloud skipper. Barney's wife had tutted about the slender builds of cloud skippers and made it a point to supply them with treats from her oven via her devoted husband.

	She waved farewell to the man and wandered down to the schedule board where she signed up for another route beginning tomorrow at noon. A slightly older boy was already at the board and she recognized him even with his back to her.

	"Hi, Wy," she said.

	The boy turned around, his pale gray eyes literally aglow.

	"Hi hi hi," he replied. "Good skies, good skies, good skies."

	Amelia nodded, used to his speech by now. The Kengrell boy did not speak much but when he did, he said everything three times. Whether by fluke or by choice, each of the few Kengrells she knew had different idiosyncrasies with their speech.

	Wy was also on Amelia's short list of tolerable males. They had twice done some experimental kissing, even touching tongues. Wy wasn't exactly her boyfriend - Amelia didn't have one of those - but he was a good friend who had kept his hands to himself while they were lip-locked. Amelia had heard that many Kengrells also had extraordinarily long tongues. If Wy did, he had never tried to choke her with it while they were frenching.

	As she left the depot, Amelia thought more about Wy and the possibilities of having a boyfriend. It made her smile and a little more aware of the remaining dampness in her crotch from her flight. Although both of them were years away from being able to procreate, Amelia smiled at the idea of having a baby with glowing, pale gold eyes.

	Her reverie was interrupted by another male voice. Amelia stopped cold, her smile fading at the trouble.

	Benno and Roth were two mechanics who could cause problems with skipper craft or make them soar like hawks. With this talent, they preyed on younger cloud skippers, extorting money or demanding that they provide undeclared transport of packages to similarly unsavory characters at other aerodromes.

	From past experience, Amelia knew what they would extort from her. At the orphanage, she had lost her innocence three years ago. When she became a cloud skipper, she thought the targeting by older boys and even some of the men would stop. Benno, Roth, and some of the others had quickly dispelled those thoughts. But if she couldn't get access to a working (and safe) skipper, she couldn't fly. Then it would be back to the orphanage and farewell to her new measures of freedom.

	"Nice shirt," Roth sneered as he unzipped the fly in his coveralls. "Too bad you've got nothing under there to show."

	"Now that's not a fair thing to say," Benno said to his partner. "After all, she's still a little kid. And it's our duty to help her along into womanhood."

	Fighting not to show any tears, Amelia knelt in front of Roth and took his erection in her mouth. As usual, it was unwashed and she stifled a gag reflex as she sucked on his member. Hopefully, she could satisfy the two men quickly before they decided on more.

	But her hopes were dashed when Benno lifted her by the hips so that she was standing bent at the waist with Roth's fleshy stick moving in and out of her mouth. Whimpering around Roth's sliding dick, she felt her pants and undies being pulled down to her knees. A rough hand pinched her hairless mound, jabbing at her cleft.

	"The little bitch is already wet from her joyride," Benno laughed. "Makes all the work in getting those engines just right kind of worthwhile."

	Lining his prick head up against the girl's mons from behind, Benno launched himself against her and speared the slick, preteen twat hole on the first strike. Amelia was propelled forward and choked as Roth's meat went down her throat.

	"Nice work," Roth gloated as he gripped Amelia's blonde locks.

	The girl struggled to get the thing out of her airway, but could only twist helplessly as Roth enjoyed her unwilling deep-throat. Meanwhile, Benno pounded her slick cuntal tube with gusto. Roth finally released her as her movements weakened. She was able to draw a deep breath before he jammed his hard-on into her mouth again.

	Gripping the side of her face and hooking a thumb under her jawline, he snarled "eat it bitch, while you can still use your mouth."

	Defeated, Amelia sucked on Roth's cock while Benno rutted in her tender young snatch. The man behind her tore her chemise, snapping the straps on her shoulders and leaving the ruined material around her midsection while he groped her undeveloped chest.

	"Are you gonna grow these for me when you're old enough?" he breathed as he twisted her nipples. "Are you gonna give your Uncle Benno some titties to play with some day? Jesus, you're so tight in there, no matter how many times I fuck you. I guess me and Roth are the only ones, huh?"

	He laughed and came soon after. Roth added his own load, forcing the girl to swallow it. Amelia collapsed on the concrete while the two men laughed and made further suggestions of how she could please them. Their own talk as well as the sight of her sleek, mostly nude figure made them hard again.

	Amelia groaned as she was forced to her feet and bent over. Benno waved his prick in her face.

	"You know what to do," he warned. "And you'll love the flavor - eleven year old pussy."

	A chocking sob escaped Amelia's mouth as she opened it for Benno. Tasting her sex on the man's hard-on further drove her defilement home. The semen from his previous discharge was warm and sticky as it trickled down her thighs. But then Roth's prick plugged the leak from her bald slit as he punched into her. Amelia suffered the dual action of two men using and ravishing her body until they came inside of her again.

	When they were done, they let her drop to the ground again. With one hand, she tentatively rubbed a bruised nipple while with the other she protectively covered her oozing cunny.

	"Not bad," sniffed Benno with the practiced air of an accomplished rapist. "You stay here and we'll get a few more guys over to keep you full."

	Amelia lay on her side, shivering despite the heat. When a hand closed on her bare shoulder, she violently jerked away.

	"Shh. Shh," came a feminine voice.

	Amelia looked up to see two young women crouched by her with concern on her faces. They were cloud skippers from Opalline House. The red-haired one was Siobhan and blonde, who Amelia secretly idolized as a grown-up version of herself, was Merida. Rather than being comforted, the girl was even more ashamed for them to see her in this state.

	"G-go," Amelia croaked. "They're coming back. More of them."

	"They won't dare mess with anyone from a guild-clan," Siobhan stated. Everyone knew the guild-clans had the power of numbers against anyone who might cross one of their own.

	"I'm not," Amelia said, shaking her head as she vainly tried to pull her torn chemise into place. "Too young. Only eleven."

	Merida pulled the girl up into a sitting position and clenched one hand in a peculiar grip while Siobhan did the same with the other. Staring intently into the teary yellow eyes of the preteen, Merida asked, "Would you share yourself with all?"

	Amelia didn't understand the question but the words held some sort of depth she couldn't explain. When she nodded, Merida shook her head.

	"You must speak it aloud. Would you share yourself with all?"

	"Yes," the girl replied, feeling part of herself becoming weightless.

	"Then it is begun," the women said together.

	"Sorry, ladies, the bitch is already reserved."

	Benno sneered as he and Roth sauntered up with five more friends in similarly stained coveralls.

	"Not anymore," Merida snapped. "She's Opalline."

	"Bullshit," spat Roth. "She's a sky rat, just a kid. And no family."

	"Opalline is now her family, Siobhan announced. "She just became an initiate."

	Several of the mechanics stirred uneasily. An easy fuck was one thing, but with a guild-clan involved...

	But Benno wasn't having any of it.

	"Leave the little cum bag here and we'll initiate her real good. Or you two can stick around and we can have us a nice big party."

	Roth snorted. If needed, they could have their fun and stash what was left of these three bitches in a place they wouldn't be found. No evidence for Opalline. He was tired of kowtowing to these damned guild-clans, anyway. He knew the others that he and Benno brought with him felt the same way - they just needed some leadership to show it.

	Merida tensed, ready to fight. Siobhan started to do the same but then relaxed and smiled.

	"A party is it?" she asked. "Why didn't you say so in the first place? We just love a party, don't we, Dor?"

	Several men spun around as she looked over their shoulders. From behind some crates strode another woman, these one with dark purple hair and eyes of with milky purple irises that would glow in lower light. There were muttered curses from several of the would-be attackers as they backed away. Even Amelia gulped at the sight of the newcomer.

	Obviously a Kengrell, Dor had the deserved reputation of exceeding the benign quirkiness of her kind with bursts of unbridled wildness. The young woman grinned, showing platinum-plated teeth that had been sharpened.

	"Pppparty," she hissed happily.

	Dor could prolong consonants, even hard ones, in a way that was hard to describe. But it was the metal on her teeth and the dark alloy welded to the flesh around her eyes that truly spoke of a disturbing paradox.

	Of the gangs that prowled the outskirts of civilized cities on the continents, it was the graft-droogs that both intrigued and horrified the fair-minded populations. Using micro filaments and heating techniques, they earned their infamous name by grafting metal onto or into their bodies for decoration or deadly and perverse purposes. Although graft-droogs hated Kengrells (perhaps because of the latter's natural-occurring oddities - no one knew for sure) Dor was unique in that she had obviously bonded with some of them enough to add her own modifications.

	Even Benno and Roth were reluctant to take on Dor with their heavier numbers and the group of men sullenly retreated to the nearest hangar. Turning her head and tilting it like a bird of prey regarding a small creature, Dor stared at Amelia. Then she smiled again, looking genuinely happy despite the gleaming array in her mouth.

	"She's one of us, now," Merida explained.

	"Nnnnow," Dor repeated in her growly voice.

	Remembering her naked state, Amelia painfully pulled her pants up, wincing at the mess as her panties were jammed against her messy vulva. With her chemise of no use, Amelia accepted her discarded jacket which Siobhan had retrieved. Then she walked with her two rescuers to Opalline house with Dor tagging behind. The Kengrell said nothing but occasionally twirled about like a demented, demonic child.

	Once inside the house, introductions were made although Amelia couldn't remember much. Merida helped her into a bath and told her that someone would retrieve her things from the dorm. When her bath was done, Amelia donned a borrowed robe that was too big for her and Merida helped her to the small room that would her own.

	"It's not much, but it's a start and it's yours," Merida explained as she sat next to her on the bed. "How are you doing? Today wasn't the first time this - with Benno and Roth - happened, was it?"

	When Amelia shook her head, Merida stroked her hair and kissed her cheek.

	"Have you ever had it good for you? You know, with a guy?"

	"No," Amelia replied, thinking of those times at the orphanage, only to be repeated away from there and in even harsher ways. Then she remembered Wy and brightened a little. "But I did kiss a boy a couple of times. That was nice."

	"Oh, a boy," Merida said. "Was it like this?"

	She leaned in and kissed Amelia on the lips. Amelia had seen girls doing this together at the orphanage but had never participated. She sat in stunned silence, unsure of how to respond. Then Merida's tongue slipped into her mouth.

	Feeling flushed and light-headed, Amelia finally pushed her tongue to meet the woman's. The interchange continued with Merida taking the lead, exploring Amelia's mouth. Although she felt Merida's hand all over her, Amelia didn't realize her intent until the robe slipped from her shoulders and left her naked.

	With splayed fingers, Merida caressed the girl's chest. When Amelia's nipples responded, the she felt Amelia sucking in a sharp breath. Merida's mouth moved down to Amelia's throat, nuzzling and licking her there. Then her lips walked down to the girl's prepubescent chest, taking one nipple to play with. At the same time, her displaced hand slid between the girl's legs, fondling the smooth vulva there.

	Working her fingers at the cleft, the woman made the preteen's clitoris match her nipple in erection. As Merida slid to Amelia's other nipple, she probed deeper between the girl's bald lower lips and found her moistening. Her finger went deeper and Amelia whined as her drooling cunny was stroked. Pulling away from Amelia's chest, Merida kissed her lightly on the nose.

	"Did your boy know how to do this?' she asked as she curled her finger and worked it against Amelia's G-spot.

	Amelia could only respond with a warbling moan as she was skillfully fingered. Covering Amelia's mouth with her own, Merida resumed her oral intercourse inside her younger partner, thrusting a second digit into the trembling preteen's cunny, churning the juicy flesh and stimulating her until she came.

	"Was...that...?" Amelia breathlessly asked.

	"An orgasm? Yes."

	Amelia sat in a state of wonder as Merida undressed. When her mind cleared a little, she noticed an object in the woman's hand. It was long and green with a gnarled surface resembling a series of twisted ropes.

	"It's an aravine root, right?" she asked.

	"Yes. Do you know what it's used for?"

	Color rose in Amelia's face and Merida prodded her to speak.

	"I saw an older girl with one at the orphanage. It wasn't as big, though. She put it in her...herself and moved it. Um..."

	"She masturbated with it?' Merida coaxed.

	"Yes," Amelia confirmed in a squeaky voice. "She said it gets bigger because...um..."

	"It absorbs the fluids we produce," Merida confirmed, taking pity on Amelia in her embarrassment. "It's nothing to be shy about. When you give it a sharp compression, it expels the liquid in a rush. Remember how you felt when you came? Vaginal muscles can accomplish that compression during climax, which makes you squirt in yourself."

	"Oh," Amelia remarked.

	"And in your lover," Merida huskily whispered as she pushed the girl back on the bed.

	Amelia watched, feeling oddly detached, as Merida inserted about half of the root in her own vagina. She flexed the protruding part at an angle before lowering herself between Amelia's legs.

	Amelia wanted to protest, but couldn't find her voice as Merida pressed the end against her mound. Easing her hips forward, the woman pushed the root between the child's hairless, oozing pussy lips.

	"Ungh!" Amelia grunted as the root entered her.

	The twisted surface of the aravine root kneaded the snug interior of Amelia's preteen quim as Merida slowly made love to her. The woman's small breasts crushed against her undeveloped chest and soon Amelia found the other's rhythm. Their bodies undulated together, connected sex-to-sex by the organic thing that ravished them both.

	The root, bloated on the mixture female juices, ground inside eleven year-old's slick channel, sending electric shivers through her loins. Amelia felt as if she was being crushed to pulp inside yet wanted it so bad opening her legs as widely as possible.

	It was Merida who came first. Her twat constricted against the root and a gush of fluids, both hers and Amelia's shot into both of them. The surge set Amelia off and she writhed beneath the woman, forcing more from the root as it injected her with female cum.

	"Would you share yourself with all? Merida sked her, repeating the oath challenge from earlier that day.

	"Yes, Amelia said drowsily before Merida kissed her tenderly.

	"Then it is begun," Siobhan replied softly from beside the bed.

	Amelia blinked. The redhead was naked and then Amelia noticed that she had another aravine root with her. As Merida got up from the bed, Siobhan kissed her and then took her place.

	"I share myself with all, too," she said musically as she kissed Amelia.

	Siobhan pushed her pelvis against Amelia and the gnarled thickness of another root penetrated the eleven year-old's sex. Amelia stretched and accepted her next lover.

	It was dark outside the window and several candles flickered near the bed, brought by others of the guild-clan as they shared themselves with Amelia and let her share herself with them. Alone now, Amelia's eyes drifted closed in a state of bliss.

	Suddenly the bed jolted as something pounced on top of her. Startled, Amelia's eyes jerked open and saw the pale purple glow of Dor's gaze. It even reflected from the circular bands of metal surrounding the Kengrell's eyes.

	"Shshshshare," Dor purred as she licked Amelia's face.

	Before Amelia could respond, Dor scooted down and placed her mouth against Amelia's bald cunny. A moment later, Amelia confirmed the fact that at least some Kengrells did indeed have unusually long tongues. The strong, flexible muscle thrust and twisted inside the child's immature twat, forcing her to sing out in warbling cries as another orgasm crashed through her.

	Lying limply, Amelia did nothing as Dor rolled her over. Hearing damp noises she now knew quite well, the girl knew that Dor was inserting a root in preparation for having her. Dor rubbed the thing over Amelia's dripping snatch, coating it. Amelia was relaxed but with a growing bubble of anticipation in her belly. But when the root slipped between her buttocks, she protested.

	"No, not there!" she said as Dor leaned over her back. "I've never done that?"

	"Vvvvirgin?" Dor asked with a chuckle. "Lllllovely virgin ass."

	Amelia could not stop her anus from expanding and when the twisted surface of the root slowly plowed through the straining ring, she was surprised to find herself climaxing again.

	"Wha...How...?" she gasped.

	"I knnnnnnow how to fuck ass," Dor said as she licked the side of Amelia's neck. The tip of the tongue hooked around the front. "Lllllet Dor fuck-fuck you fucking good."

	Amelia mumbled unintelligibly as the woman sodomized her freshly opened ass. The compact cushion of her young rump was battered by Dor's hips with every inward thrust. The roughness of the action and the root was almost like rape but in an exciting way Amelia couldn't fathom. The eleven year-old's mouth gaped as she experienced her first anal intercourse, her mind reeling with the knowledge that it was with another female of all things.

	Dor rubbed at the girl's hairless twat as she buggered her. When she got a finger inside the compressed cunny passage, Amelia yelped at the added penetration. Dor worked the digit in to the last knuckle, keeping it jammed in there while she felt the root mauling the youngster's rectum through the thin wall between the two places.

	Dor growled with orgasmic intensity, shooting some her juices from the root back into her body and making the rest flood her little lover's de-virginized ass. Amelia couldn't help but to cum with her, surrendering to the wild, carnal assault. Rocking back on her knees, Dor ripped the root from her cunt, leaving the other part still embedded in the exhausted eleven year-old's bottom.

	Dor tilted her head, showing a metallic grin as she regarded the exposed, dripping end of the root. She took hold and curved it down before pushing it between the bald, fleshy lips of the preteen's pussy. Amelia moaned as she was doubly skewered again; this time with a thicker object stretching her throbbing cunny.

	Dor stood up and with surprising strength from her wiry body, slug Amelia over one shoulder.

	"Mmmmmy room," she explained. "Ttttttoys."

	Walking down the hall, Siobhan met Dor and Amelia. Seeing the root inserted into both of Amelia's lower holes, she understood that the girl's night was just beginning. Well, it was why Dor usually waited to be last. Smiling, she lovingly stroked Amelia's hair.

	"Dor is very kinky and insatiable," she said. "And she might even leave a few bruises but there will be no real harm. It's just her way of showing affection."

	Amelia nodded, her head spinning from the both the prolonged series of new lovers and of the last pairing with the wild Kengrell woman. Dor playfully patted one silky ass cheek.

	"Yyyyyou can share my toys," she said, sounding like a child eager to please.

	As Dor carried her into the bedroom, Amelia's eyes widened at the sight of all of the objects dangling from the ceiling, hanging on the walls, or otherwise lying about. She couldn't comprehend the purpose of most of them, but her education would begin very soon.


Copyright (c) 2017 madvlad

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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