The day started with a catastrophe, and got worse from there. Arriving early at the office, and groggy from a too-well-enjoyed evening the night before, I spilled a fresh cup of coffee directly into my laptop and the thing immediately died.

So, now, my computer was in intensive care, and I was sweating both about loss of critical client work, and about what the repair guys might find on my hard drive. As a closet pedophile, I have an embarrassingly extensive collection of pictures of children. Mostly entirely inappropriate photos and videos. I carefully keep them all on a pocket flash drive for security, but you never know what detritus is left behind, squirreled away in all the hidden nooks & crannies Microsoft hides.

So I was in a rare mood when my partner walked in, looking just as sour as I felt.

"Walter, my wife's been in a car accident and I'm off to the hospital, so you've gotta depose that orphan kid for the Sukoshi hit and run case."

I tried to beg off, but it was no use. It was an important case, and we weren't optimistic. The trial was in ten days, the only adult witness was on vacation in Europe, and the only one we had was an autistic child. The shrink said the kid hadn't spoken to anyone since her single-parent mother died almost a year ago. But I had to go through the motions.

The two-hour flight to the child's current home didn't help my mood, nor did what I found when I arrived. St. Lachrymosus Orphanage was run by a sullen, negligent lot of Catholic nuns who looked better suited to acting as extras in horror movies than child care.

The non-secular staff shrink was a little better. She explained again that the child probably wouldn't speak to me. In addition to being mute for the past year, she was pathologically shy, especially with strangers. Said my best chance was to spend a little time with her, talk and play, to gain her confidence before asking pertinent questions. Said if I was careful I might elicit a nod, or a head shake response to simple yes/no questions.

"But you can't interview her here," she said. "Her memories of the accident might induce a traumatic reaction. We can't be liable for that. We're only allowing the interview because we know how important this case is. There's a playground a mile or two from here. Maybe you could do it there. Cathy likes to play on the swings, and maybe that will make her relaxed, and more responsive. Sister Mary Magdalene can come along to chaperone.

"Your timing is good, though," the shrink continued. "Cathy's 8th birthday was last week, we had a little party for her, and she's seemed to be in a slightly better mood after that."

After this depressing preamble the little girl was ushered in and introduced by her temporary babysitter, a wrinkled old crone whose sour expression made me shudder. Little Cathy Sukoshi was just as described -- sullen and shy, eyes downcast, even her pace was slow and reluctant as she shuffled into the office.

"Cathy, meet Mr. Campbell," the shrink smiled. So did I as I introduced myself, holding out my hand, hoping she might shake it. The kid just stared at the floor, scuffing her oversize athletic shoes against one another.

"Cathy, Sister Mary and Mr. Campbell are going to take you to the playground, won't that be fun?" The kid glanced up to scan my face for a moment, then dropped her gaze to the floor. As we walked down the corridor, the shrink whispered in my ear, "That's a very good sign. She made eye contact with you. She must like you. She won't make eye contact with anyone except one of her little playmates."

I made idle chatter as we drove, trying to be cheerful, and to keep my lecherous mind off the child's enticingly skinny thighs in the rear-view mirror. She wasn't what you'd call pretty, possibly because of her perpetual pout, but she was a pedophile's dream. Product of a Japanese father and Filipina mother, she had lustrous, silky black hair, carefully braided into pigtails and secured at the ends by elastic bands decorated with pink plastic beads. Her complexion was obviously inherited from her Japanese father, so pale her skin looked almost translucent; so tender she looked as though she might shatter like a porcelain doll if dropped.

And she was so deliciously tiny. Although she'd just turned 8 years old, her slight frame and delicate Asian features made the little tyke look no older than 5 or 6.

Since I've never married and don't have kids, I hadn't been in a playground since childhood. Hadn't seen one except while scanning web sites for photos of enticing little children to stimulate kiddie sex fantasies during masturbation sessions. The place was a visual feast for a closet pedophile, of course, full of pretty little girls obliviously flashing their panties on the slides and monkeybars.

The wizened old crone perched on a bench and began reading. Cathy silently pointed at the swings. She sat, I pushed. She was smiling now, I noticed with satisfaction and hope. I pushed her higher, to heighten the fun and she giggled happily, revealing two missing baby teeth in front, which made the thing in my pants tingle with a different kind of happiness.

The gentle wind became more blustery, billowing her cotton dress, and making me wish I had a frontal view, between her carelessly spread, skinny legs. The wind gusts made the spaghetti straps of the child's dress slip and slide across her bony shoulders, yielding glimpses of the tiny, brown nipples on her milky-white chest, which made the growing bulge in my crotch more embarrassingly prominent.

Surrounded by the squeals and giggles of happy children and gazing down at the little girl's coyly flashing nipples, my mind roamed to fantasies of kissing, and fondling, and tugging down little panties, and touching, and... mmmm... tasting little pussy, and...

My lustful glances at panties flashing on the monkeybars and nipples flashing beneath me on the swing became less discrete when I noticed that our berobed chaperone was completely absorbed in her book, completely oblivious. So I spent a blissful half-hour indulging ever more explicit child sex fantasies in my mind as my dick tingled and throbbed in my pants.

My reveries were interrupted by the jangle of Sister Sourpuss's cell phone. She put down her book, spoke for a moment, then stood and crossed to the swings.

"Sister Austerus has taken ill, and I'll have to return to the orphanage to take over for her," she announced, looking glad to be relieved of her tedious babysitting job.

"I'm sure you'll be okay with Cathy. She's a good little girl and never causes trouble. She's used to having a nap after lunchtime, so she might get a little cranky if you have to talk to her that long, but take your time with her. Just bring her back before our 7 pm dinnertime."

I stopped the swing. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I hope it's nothing serious," I said, trying to conceal my delight at being rid of the wizened hag. She gave me the creeps. "Come on, I'll drive you back."

"No, no, they're sending a car for me. I'll go wait at the curb. You keep on with Cathy, she really seems to be enjoying herself."

The woman walked away and I glanced down at the child, her shoulder strap now halfway down her arm, blatantly exposing a tiny brown nipple.

"Cathy, do you want to play on the slide, or the monkeybars now, or keep swinging?" The kid just gripped the swing chains and swung her legs, so I resumed pushing, and gawking. The rhythmic squeaking of the rusty chains synchronized with my glimpses of the child's miniature nipple flashing in and out of view, and evoked thoughts of squeaking bedsprings caused by other rhythmic motions...

Immersed in my filthy fantasies, I didn't notice the sky slowly darkening until a flash of lightning was followed by a loud crack of thunder and the first droplets of rain.

"C'mon, Cathy, let's run for the car, okay?" I said, stopping the swing. She stumbled as she jumped out of the swing, fell on one knee and squealed in pain. I knelt to look. No broken skin, just a nasty scrape on her enticingly knobby little knee, thankfully. But she was limping badly, so I scooped her up to carry her to the car.

And... through the sounds of spattering rain and squealing children running for cover, I thought I heard her say something, too quietly for me to hear.

"What, Cathy? Did you say something? I couldn't hear," I huffed as I ran.

"You're not s'posed to touch me there," the child muttered, almost imperceptibly. I realized that my palm was cupping her tiny bottom as I carried her, the little cheeks as small as peaches.

My heart raced with hope and excitement. The child had actually spoken! Granted, her only reason for speaking was only to accuse me of child molesting, but hey, they were the first words she'd uttered in a year, and one sentence might lead to more.

"No, no, honey, I'm just carrying you, because you're hurt, okay?" I managed, uncomfortably. "I'm not... ah... touching you, I'm only carrying you, understand?"

No response. The rain intensified and I ran the last few feet to fling open the rental car door and dump the kid into the passenger seat. My hotel wasn't far away, so I drove there and we dashed into the restaurant just off the lobby.

A convention had booked the hotel, and the restaurant was jammed with accountants. Annoyingy loud ones. Conversation was impossible, especially with a painfully shy child whose one sentence in the past year was nearly inaudible. Desperate, I went to the front desk, to ask if they had anything to entertain children -- toys, dolls, board games? The desk clerk shrugged, made a phone call, and I left a few minutes later with a couple dolls and a "Dora the Explorer" board game to head for the elevator, little Cathy limping along beside me.

Inside the room I dug in my dopp kit for a rudimentary first-aid kit I always carry when traveling, found a band-aid and led the kid to the bathroom. She sat on the closed toilet as I dabbed her wound with warm, soapy water and applied the bandage. I applied it slowly and carefully, shamelessly staring at the Hello Kitty logo on the tiny panties visible between her carelessly spread legs.

Afterward I handed Cathy a soft drink from the mini-bar, spread out the game board and tried to figure out how it was played. When I thought I had it, I invited the little girl to play. I didn't want to jump the gun with serious questions yet, and blow my opportunity.

I chattered away, cheery small talk, trying for a conversational level suitable for an autistic 8-year-old, but the kid just sat there, silently beating the hell out of me at the game. Clearly, she was a smart kid, if uncommunicative. I peppered my chatter with questions, hoping to provoke another sentence.

"Wow, that was a smart move, Cathy. How did you think of that?"

"You're not s'posed to touch me there," she replied, staring sullenly at the game board. "It's bad."

"Ah... Cathy, I told you, I wasn't... ah... touching you, I was just..."

The child suddenly rose from her chair and picked up a doll from the table.

"Not here," she said, pointing at its tiny bottom. "Or here," she said, pointing at the doll's chest. "Or here," she pouted, pointing at its crotch.

My throat constricted with fear and confusion. When I could speak, I said, "O... okay, Cathy, I promise I won't touch you in any of those places, okay? Cross my heart."

Silence.

"Okay, Cathy? Are we still friends, honey?"

The child stared at the floor and timidly stepped to stand beside my chair, the top of her head level with my shoulder, the doll dangling from her hand. She pressed her little tummy into my forearm resting on the chair arm and whispered shyly, "Don't touch me."

"Cathy, I... I told you, honey, I won't, ah..."

She squirmed her soft belly more firmly into my arm, curled her tiny fingers around my wrist and whimpered softly, "Don't touch me..."

My dazed brain suddenly realized the implied request and my pulse pounded in my ears at the unthinkable consequences. Unable to stop myself, despite my terror, I slowly lifted my hand and curled it around the tiny, peach-size bottom.

"You... you don't want me to touch you... here, Cathy? Is that right?" I croaked, trying to keep my hand perfectly, innocently still. The child just nodded, biting her lip and staring at the floor. But she didn't move away.

"You... don't want me to touch you like... like this?" I murmured, gently stroking and squeezing the soft little peaches. The child nodded. "It's bad," she whispered.

My thickening dick drooled a greasy runnel of pre-cum into my briefs as I heard the unmistakeable catch in the child's voice as she timorously spoke. God help me if I'm wrong, I thought, as my shaking hand dropped to curl around the child's matchstick-thin thigh and slowly crept beneath the little dress, savoring the deliciously smooth, warm child flesh I'd desired all my adult life. The little girl just stood there, silently staring at the floor.

Terror overcame my pedosexual lust and I jerked my shaking hand from beneath the child's dress.

"You... you're right, Cathy, it's bad, so... so let's just, ah... play the game, okay? Sit down, honey," I croaked.

Sulking, the kid shook her head and toddled to the window, resting her chin on the windowsill and staring blankly at the torrential rain pelting cars in the parking lot eight floors below.

"Come on, Cathy, don't you want to play?" I cajoled, hopelessly out of my depth, with no child-care skills and no clue what went on in the mind of an autistic 8-year-old, further traumatized by the horrific accident she'd witnessed. "Look, you're winning, Cathy, you're really beating me badly, don't you want to finish the game, and win?"

No response. It was no use. The child had retreated again into her protective cocoon of silence. I'd lost her, possibly lost our only means of winning this case. The futility of the situation drained all the enthusiasm from the thing in my pants.

I sighed heavily and rose to take a beer from the mini-bar, deciding to just leave her to herself for a while. There wasn't much else I could do. Ignorant as I was about child management, I was smart enough to know that clumsy attempts to reach her might inadvertently make the situation even worse.

I grabbed my briefcase to fish out the dossier on the kid, which I'd already read, but thought I might find something helpful that I'd perhaps overlooked. Finished my beer, went for another, found nothing useful in the file.

A blinding flash of lightning whitened the room, with a deafening blast of thunder that rattled the window. The child screamed and collapsed in a heap on the carpeted floor, curled into a tight ball and crying. I dashed to the window, saw a curl of smoke on the roof of a car dealership across the street where the lightning had struck, and knelt beside the terrified little girl, cuddling her in my arms to calm her.

"Cathy? It's okay, honey. We're safe here in the hotel room. The lightning is outside, it can't hurt you, I promise..."

My reassuring words seemed to have no effect. The kid just cried inconsolably, her little hands clamped over her ears as the tears streamed down her porcelain face. Another long, slow rumble of thunder made her squeal and tremble violently.

God, what a day, what have I done to deserve this, I thought, sitting on the floor and murmuring to the weeping little kid. "D- don't... t- touch me," the kid muttered, stammering through her sobs.

Jeezuz. THIS again. I jerked my arm from around her bony shoulders and sat back on my haunches. In response, she quickly glanced up at me for an instant, her pouty, tear-streaked face even more agitated than before, jerked her head down to stare at the carpet and whined, "Don't... TOUCH me."

By now it was becoming apparent what the uncommunicative kid was trying to tell me. It was all she would say. It might be my only chance to coax her out of her silent shell. I gently curled my arm around her, my palm pressed to her narrow, bony chest. When I got no response, I gently stroked, and my dick twitched in my pants as I felt the tiny nipples beneath the thin cotton dress pucker into stiff little pebblets.

For a long moment the child just sat there, letting me fondle her as rain pelted the window above us. The fondling seemed to calm her, and her sobs softened to quiet sniffles.

Suddenly, two things occurred to me. The dossier had said that her father disappeared under mysterious circumstances shortly before her mother's death. And... I remembered that the orphanage staff was entirely female. Maybe I was the only man she'd had contact with since. And... maybe Daddy left because Mommy found out about... things he did that made autistic little Cathy very happy... but an enraged Mommy scolded the impressionistic child, and deeply implanted the notion of how filthy, and wrong, it was...

It was a wild stretch of imagination, but the pieces fit. The child only spoke while I was fondling her, and the physical contact was the only thing that calmed her terror of the tempest outside.

Pulse pounding in my ears louder than the thunder outside, I slowly slipped one spaghetti strap down the child's bony shoulder and slipped my hand beneath the dress. My engorged dick drooled in my pants as my palm felt the stiff, tiny nipplets on her flat chest, and lightly stroked. The kid shivered slightly and whispered, "Don't touch me there..."

This seemed to confirm my hypothesis, so I pinched a little raisinette and gently rolled it between thumb and forefinger. The child still stared down at the carpet, but her lips parted.

Emboldened by her response, and intoxicated more by my lifelong child-sex lust than by the beer, I couldn't resist cupping my other hand around her enticingly babyfat little tummy, kneading and stroking it. Then down to curl my hand around her tiny thigh, nearly encircling it. Then up... up... slowly... beneath the little dress...

My throat constricted with lust when my trembling fingers made contact with the child's panty crotch, and felt the cotton fabric soaked through with female sexual arousal. The kid stiffened, shook her head violently and huffed, "Don't... don't t- touch me... there," but spread her tiny legs more widely.

Panting to myself, now, I drew my hand up to the elastic waistband and dipped beneath into her little panties, unable to suppress a quiet groan of lust as my finger dipped into the warm, slippery furrow between her tiny pussy lips and began to gently stroke. The little girl's body went limp, she curled her tiny fingers around my forearm for support, and a droplet of saliva drooled from her slack lips as she whispered, "No... don't touch it... it's... bad..."

I almost came in my pants at the shockingly depraved sight I never imagined I'd ever actually see -- my large hand groping inside an 8-year-old child's panties, fondling and stroking her wet little pussy as she whimpered and protested but just sat motionless and letting me sexually molest her tiny, pre-pubescent body.

A loud clap of thunder didn't faze the child as I sat panting and fondling her tiny nipples and masturbating her. I reluctantly withdrew my hand from her little panties, knelt before her and gently urged her down to lie on her back on the carpet. The little girl compliantly laid back, staring blankly at the ceiling as I knelt beside her, trying to control my ragged breathing as I spoke reassuring words to calm her.

"See, Cathy?" I croaked as I gently stroked her soft little tummy through the thin cotton play dress. "We're safe here, honey. That bad storm can't get to us here. We're... all alone together... where the storm can't get in, and... and no one can see us," I whispered to distract her as my shaking hand tugged the hem of her little play dress up until it was bunched around her narrow waist.

The kid jerked her face to the side to avoid my gaze, and my dick jerked in my pants as I gazed at the pink Hello Kitty logo on her tiny, white panties, the cotton crotch glistening with moisture.

"Oh, Cathy has pretty little panties with a kitten," I panted, trying desperately to keep the dialog going with the nearly mute child. My throat went dry at the sight of the wet little panty crotch framed by her soft inner thighs, the delicate flesh so pale it revealed a spidery network of tiny blue capillaries just beneath the smooth surface.

Unable to stop myself, I gently traced my finger along the elastic leg hole of her panties, my dick throbbing at the soft child flesh just an inch from the object of my most fervent desire.

"Cathy, can I... can I look to see what's underneath your cute little kitten," I panted, slipping a fingertip beneath the elastic.

The kid clamped her eyes shut and shook her head violently.

"No, no, don't... I'm not s'posed to let you look at it," she whined into the carpet as my finger slowly tugged aside the wet panty crotch. My abdomen clenched at my first closeup view of a child's tiny genitalia, the pale little lips puffy with babyfat.

"Oh, is... is this bad, Cathy?" I panted, staring with bulging eyes, my nose only inches away from the little sexual organ I'd fantasized about all my adult life. "What... what else are you... not supposed to let me do, Cathy?"

"Touch it..." the child whispered into the carpet almost inaudibly. "T- touch it... I'm not s'posed to let you... t- touch it..."

I reached down to shift my painfully aching dick so it lay flat and pressed it into the carpet, then reached to trace my fingertip lightly down one fat little pussy lip.

"Like this, Cathy?" I breathed. "You're not supposed to let me touch you like... like this?" I panted as my finger dipped into the little fleshy groove and began gently stroking.

"No, no, don't... touch it..." the kid whispered into the carpet as her skinny thighs went limp and parted. "N- noooo... it's... it's bad." My dick jerked in my pants at the sensation of her warm, slick sex juice on my finger, and the sight of her tiny bottom languidly rotating on the carpet as I masturbated her.

Unable to control myself any longer, I jerked aside the soaked panties and plastered my face to the child's tender crotch. I groaned as I dragged my tongue up into the slick little furrow, my nose hairs curling at the musky scent of her childish sex goo tinged with urine and sweat from her exertions at the playground.

The kid clapped her hands to her face, her pigtails slapping the carpet as she thrashed her head from side to side, whimpering, "No... no... don't t- touch me... THERE," and rhythmically hunching her slimy crotch into my licking tongue.

By then I was hunching my throbbing dick into the carpet and moaning loudly into the kid's crotch as I licked and sucked the delicious child sex juice into my mouth and slathered it all over my gleaming cheeks and chin.

I drew back to drape her limp, stumpy little legs over my shoulders, bent her knobby knees back to her chest to rotate her tiny bottom up for easier access and plunged my engorged tongue into her drooling pink hole as she whined and kicked her little shoes against my back in protest, her wet panty crotch smearing cunt slime on my cheek.

On impulse, I teased my finger at the mouth of her quivering vagina, and the child tensed and moaned. I pushed gently, the child moaned again and hunched slightly into it, so I carefully worked it in and was not too surprised to find no trace of a hymen. The thing glided into the well-lubricated little tunnel unimpeded, to the last knuckle.

The kid stiffened, groaned loudly and began wriggling frantically on my finger, grunting more than speaking the words, "No... stop it... no... no..." through the tiny fingers hiding her thrashing face. I sucked the stiffened little clitoris into my mouth, laving it with with my engorged tongue, crooking and twisting my finger deeply inside her. The child jerked her tiny bottom two inches off the carpet, shaking and hunching violently. "No! Stop it! No, don't t- touch... it... don... a- a- a-awwwwwww, n- NOOOOOOOOOO!" she screamed, her uncontrollable orgasmic ecstasy luckily muffled by the tensed little fingers pressed to her face.

After a lifetime of frantically masturbating to kiddie sex fantasies, the act of finger-fucking an orgasming child was too much. My overtaxed brain transferred the sensations felt by my finger to my aching dick, and I could almost feel the wet, spasming little cuntlet squeezing and sucking it. I didn't even have time to groan as the quivering thing spontaneously erupted, pumping a torrent of semen into my pants as I hunched and ground it into the carpet beneath me.

The child finally collapsed onto the floor, gasping and shaking and whimpering, her silken hair matted to her forehead with sweat, her flat chest heaving.

I slowly and reluctantly sucked my wet finger from the child's drooling little hole and stared down at her. Her hands had fallen away from her face, and she appeared to have passed out from the intensity of her orgasm, possibly the first she'd had since Daddy left. The dried tears gleaming on her porcelain little doll face made my stomach knot with shame, and fear. The saliva drooling from her slack mouth and the glistening, pink hole between her limp, spread legs made my spent dick tingle in my sperm-soaked briefs.

I stood on shaky legs and my cheeks reddened as I felt the warm semen dripping down my thigh and soaking through the fabric of my suit pants. Jeezuz, what have I done, what the fuck was I thinking, I thought as I went to the closet. Luckily, even though this was only a quick trip, I'd brought along a spare suit. In the shower I was barely aware of the water, my mind swamped with images of stiff, tiny nipples, juicy little cunts, dried tears and prison bars.

I slapped off the water, grabbed a towel and draped it over my head, scrubbing vigorously to dry my hair and hide my shame as I stepped out of the shower. When I pulled the wet towel from my face my mouth gaped in shock as I saw the little kid sitting on the toilet, cartoon panties around her ankles, her gaze fixed firmly on my semi-turgid penis. Without shifting her gaze, she slowly raised her arm and pointed a stumpy finger at my dripping dick. "That's bad," she muttered.

I jerked the towel down to cover myself and dashed out of the bathroom, hyperventilating. I ran to the suitcase for a pair of briefs, jerked it open, then remembered I'd decanted the contents into a bureau drawer. The toilet flushed. I jerked open the drawer and grabbed the briefs just as the little girl toddled out of the bathroom, her eyes fixed directly on my naked crotch. The spaghetti shoulder strap of her dress was still draped down her arm exposing a tiny pebble of a nipple, and my dick jerked and began to inflate. The child just stared in silence as I clumsily jerked the briefs up to cover my thickening erection.

"C- Cathy, uh... go play, honey, while I get dressed, okay?" I stammered as I fumbled to get my trousers jerked up. The kid didn't move. She brought her fist to her face, began sucking her thumb, and just stood there staring at my crotch as I dressed.

Desperately trying to think of something to distract the little girl, I hastily threw on a t-shirt, then glanced at my watch. Eleven am. Inspiration struck. I pulled a room-service menu from the desk drawer.

"Okay, Cathy, if you don't want to play, why don't we have lunch," I muttered, browsing through the hotel restaurant's meager offerings. "How about a cheeseburger?"

The kid sullenly shook her head. BLT? No. Cheese sandwich? No. Peanut butter & jelly sandwich? No. Pizza? A faint glimmer of a smile flitted briefly across her face before her features again drooped to a sullen pout.

"Pizza," she muttered, quietly.

Thank god! The child's first off-topic, non-threatening word! Maybe a thrilling, juicy orgasm had loosened her up a bit. Maybe I could, after all, break through her relentless barrier of autism and mute isolation, at least enough to get details of what the kid had seen.

Then again, maybe not. I chattered away as we ate, prompting her with questions, but got no response other than nods and head shakes. I finally lapsed into silence myself, trying not to look as she semi-toothlessly gummed her lunch.

I couldn't help my eyes from caressing the child as she ate. Her tiny tongue licking stringy cheese from her crooked little teeth, the childish traces of chipped pink nail polish on her tiny fingers as she gripped the pizza, her clunky shoes rhythmically kicking the chair. Her porcelain skin and delicate Asian features suddenly reminded me of ads I'd seen online for little sex dolls made in Japan to resemble life-size children 6 or 7 years old. My dick stirred in my pants once again as I recalled the demo videos of sweating Japanese men grinding balls-deep inside the little things.

When she finished, the kid just sat staring blankly at the wall, oblivious to my entreaties to continue the "Dora" game. Communication was futile, so I rose to snap on the TV and soon found a children's program. I went to the bathroom to offload the beers I'd had before and during lunch, listening to the ridiculous honks and quacks of the cartoon show as I wondered what to do next.

As I shook the last droplets into the toilet bowl I heard a step behind me and stiffened, jammed my dick back into my pants and turned to face the little kid, my face burning. "That's bad," she said in a timid, sullen voice, pointing again at my crotch, then, biting her lip, muttered something else too quietly for me to hear.

"Ah... yeah, Cathy, it's bad, so let's... ah... go play instead, okay?" I said, guiding her out of the bathroom with a hand on her bony shoulder. She jerked herself out of my grasp and stomped away to stand in the middle of the room, frowning hard, her lower lip trembling.

"It's bad! It's bad! It's BAD!" she cried, stomping her tiny foot, obviously on the verge of a temper tantrum. Jeezuz, that's the last thing I need, I thought. I tried to calm her, pleading, but my entreaties only made her tantrum worse. She began pointing at my crotch again as she trembled and chanted, and I finally got the idea.

"Okay, okay, Cathy, you... you want to... ah... see it again, is that it?" I said helplessly to the almost screaming child. I reached for my zipper and she clamped her mouth shut, staring. The thing was halfway tumescent by the time I hauled it out, quickly bloating at the shockingly depraved act of exposing myself to a small child.

She just stood there in her little play dress, staring silently as the penis slowly bounced and jerked to full erection in my hand. I stroked it gently a few times, to give her a good show and her slack lips parted to whisper, "That's bad."

My cheeks burned, but my knees shook with lust at a sight I'd long fantasized about but never imagined I'd actually see -- myself alone in a hotel room with a tiny 8-year-old child watching me masturbate. I froze for a long moment to savor the moment, knowing I should immediately stuff the thing back into my pants, but unable to force myself to do it.

"Look, Cathy. See what I'm doing?" I heard myself say as I stroked the stiff meat in my hand, my heart pounding in my chest. "Is... is this bad, Cathy?"

The child nodded solemnly, her pigtails swinging as she stared, and muttered something so quietly I couldn't hear.

"Wh- what, Cathy? I couldn't hear you, honey, what did you say?"

The little girl bit her lip and raised her eyes to meet mine, the first eye contact she'd made since we entered the hotel.

"I'm not s'posed to let you use me," she whispered shyly, then dropped her gaze again to stare at the floor.

I sucked in my breath, my dick jerked and drooled a bead of pre-cum into my hand. Omigod, did she... does she expect...

Unable to stop myself, I took a step closer to the little girl, stroking my rigid penis four inches from her pouting face.

"You... you don't want me to... ah... use you, Cathy? Is that right?"

The kid nodded, biting her lip, then raised her eyes from the floor to stare at the dripping thing in my hand. "It's bad," she whispered.

I slumped to my knees and scooped the child into my arms, fondling her tiny bottom peaches, hunching my drooling penis into her cotton play dress and gasping, "Okay... okay little Cathy... okay..."

I dashed to the door to hang the Do Not Disturb sign, closed and locked it with a satisfying click, then turned to look down at the pouting child standing there, eyes downcast, hands clasped shyly behind her back. Her little pigtails didn't even reach the level of my belt. She looked like a skinny 6-year-old embarrassed to be scolded by a teacher.

I suppressed a groan of lust as I kicked off my pants and shed my t-shirt to stand before her, naked and stroking my dick.

"Look, Cathy," I breathed. "Look at it. It's very big, and you're so... so little. Are you sure you... you don't want me to... to use you? In bed? To... to use you, like a grownup?" I panted as I scooped her slight body into my arms and strode to the bed.

"No... I'm not s'posed to... let you do that," she muttered, dropping her head onto my shoulder as I carried her to the bed, my throbbing dick wagging before me. The little kid felt like a child's doll in my arms. Her slight body weighed no more than a Dalmatian puppy as I laid her on the mattress.

My breath caught in my throat at the sight of how tiny and frail she looked, the milky-white flesh of her little matchstick legs almost glowing against the dark burgundy bedspread. I sat on the bed, stroking her soft tummy through the thin cotton dress and bent to kiss her, but she jerked her face sharply to the side to avoid the contact of my lips, so I didn't push it.

Instead, I reached down to slowly lift the hem of the little play dress up to expose her plump tummy. A lifetime of desperate pedosexual lust made me nearly ejaculate at the sight as I tugged the tiny panties down to expose her pale, babyfat little pussy lips.

"No, no, don't," the child whimpered as she lifted her stumpy legs to let me tug the little panties up and over her clunky athletic shoes, and I gasped at the sight of the little girl's slippery sexual arousal soaked through the cartoon kitty face.

Staring at that impossibly tiny little pussy, I knew the kid was far too small for me to penetrate. She might have been 8 years old, but she looked about 6. But, desperate for relief, I crawled over the little kid and pressed my wet dick into the warm flesh of her tummy. As intensely aroused as I was, I knew it would be all over in just a few strokes, so I just abandoned myself to the depraved pleasure of masturbating myself on a child. Panting hard and nearing climax, I reached to drop the other shoulder strap and caress the child's bony chest, rolling her tiny nipples in my fingers as I hunched her soft tummy, now warm and slimy from the pre-cum drooling from my dick.

"No! NO, don't USE me!" the kid squealed, whipping her head side to side, suddenly squirming violently beneath me and lashing the bedspread with her pigtails. Her brow crinkled into a ferocious frown, her cheeks reddened, her lower lip began trembling in frustrated rage, clearly on the verge of another tantrum. Stunned, I halted my frantic hunching and just stared down at her, stroking her hair and trying to calm her. The gesture only ratcheted up her hysteria another notch.

"Don't do it... IN me! Don't! It's BAD!" the wriggling child squealed, tears now welling in her puffy eyes. My gut clenched and a puddle of pre-cum drooled from my throbbing dick into the child's belly button at the realization that the little kid wanted to be penetrated.

"O- okay, Cathy, okay, c- calm down, please, honey?" I babbled, uselessly stroking her tear-streaked, porcelain cheeks. Like an out-of-body experience, I watched myself draw back to spread apart her tensed, tiny thighs and nudge the bulbous head of my dick into the wet little furrow.

"Is... is this what you want, Cathy?" I gasped, stroking the thing up and down between the shockingly tiny pussy lips. The kid's violent thrashing slowed and stopped, and she raised her head to stare down at the ruddy penis poised at the mouth of her tiny vagina. "No... no, don't do it IN me... it's bad..." she breathed quietly, staring at the head of my dick poised at her crotch.

Gritting my teeth with both lust and terror at the thought of what that rigid phallus might do to the little kid, I pressed forward. Nothing happened. The tiny orifice was just too small. The kid screwed her face into a grimace and squealed, "No! NO, don't... don't USE me, Daddy!" as she drew up her knees, planted her shoes on the bedspread and hunched her tiny bottom off the mattress to skewer herself on the thing. "Ogod!" I gasped as I felt my wet dick plunge to the root inside the squealing child until my balls crushed tightly into her delicate crotch.

"n- n- n- UUUUUUUUUUUgh!" the kid grunted so loudly that I hoped the room next door was unoccupied, then fell limply back into the mattress, rapidly panting like a puppy. She craned her head up to glance at the place where our bodies joined, then dropped her head heavily back onto the bedspread and clapped both hands to hide her face, whimpering, "No, Daddy, no... don't... don't... USE me, Daddy..."

Only the intensity of my recent orgasm kept me from instantly ejaculating in the creamy warmth of the child's well-lubricated little hole. Her pitiful whimpering fired every pedophile synapse in my brain, and I began gently thrusting into her, carefully, trying not to hurt the tiny child, but her whimpering only became more agitated.

"No, no, stop... STOP it, get it OUT!" she squealed, too loudly for comfort, so I stiffened, stopped, then dragged my wet dick out until the little hole spat out the glistening dick head. The kid propped herself up on her elbows to stare at the dripping penis bouncing and jerking in the cool air. After a long moment staring at it she whispered, "That's bad... don't... DO it in me, Daddy..."

So that was it. The kid wanted to watch it go in. The sight of a penis penetrating her was deeply satisfying to her on some level. So I played along, only too happy to share her nasty little game.

"Look, Cathy... here comes Daddy," I panted as I smeared the head of my wet dick into her tiny pink hole. "Oh, look, it's going inside you. Is that... bad, Cathy?"

The kid nodded, bit her lip and watched with wide eyes as the engorged penis slowly disappeared inside her, inch by inch. I, too, was transfixed by the sight. The child's tiny thighs were so thin my dick looked like a third leg as it glided deeply inside her body. When my straining scrotum came to rest tightly against her pale crotch, she dropped her head back onto the bed, covered her face and again began whimpering, "No, Daddy, no... it's bad," shaking her head from side to side.

Sweating and savoring the dream of a lifetime, I was only dimly aware of the child's whimpering protests as I hunched and plunged into the deliciously sucking little hole, staring with lust-dimmed eyes down at her tiny nipplets, rustling her play dress as I fucked the little girl. To emphasize the filthy depravity of the act, for her as much as for me, I began grunting loudly with each deep, plunging thrust, exaggeratedly loud grunts that filled the room with the sounds of my desperate kiddie-sex lust, punctuated by the obscenely wet smacks of my balls as they slapped into her delicate crotch, and the little kid's whiny pleas for me to stop, stop, stop.

On the verge of orgasm, I gritted my teeth, willing my prostate to hold out just a little longer, and slowly dragged my wet penis out of the whining child, desperately wanting to prolong my first child-sex experience. Panting heavily, I crawled to kneel beside the kid's exposed, flat chest and peeled a tensed little hand from her face. I curled her tiny fingers around the fat dick bouncing over her.

"Feel it, Cathy. Touch Daddy's big dick. Look at it, Cathy," I rasped, drooling a long runnel of pre-cum onto her pale chest as I stroked her little hand up and down the wet shaft.

"No! No, it's BAD," the kid squealed, twisting her head to avert her eyes as her little fingers stroked and unconsciously squeezed the dripping penis in her hand.

Inspiration struck, suddenly. I realized that I might be able to use the situation to coax a bit more of an expanded vocabulary from the autistic kid. One or two new words might lead to more, which just might open the way for at least some of the conversation I desperately needed to obtain from her before I left.

Despite her whiny protests, the child was panting quietly, and her little tummy was trembling.

"You want this big dick back inside you, Cathy?" I whispered, reaching down to nudge the play dress higher and caress her trembling tummy. "It feels nice and warm and hard in there, doesn't it, Cathy? Tell me you want it... you want me to fuck you," I whispered, tracing my fingers teasingly around her drooling little hole. "I won't put it back inside you unless you tell me you want me to... to fuck you, Cathy."

The kid violently thrashed her head back and forth in protest, but didn't stop stroking and squeezing my dick when I uncurled my hand from around hers. I drew my finger lightly over her swollen clitoris, once, and she trembled, slowly turned her averted face to gaze shyly up at me.

"No... don't... don't fuck me," she whispered with a pleading expression.

Omigod, this was just too perfect. The aroused little 8-year-old was not only willing to let me ejaculate inside her, but maybe also willing to speak. At that moment, I desperately needed both.

I crawled back between her miniature thighs, holding my dripping dick in my hand. "Now, watch, Cathy... Watch while Daddy fucks your little pussy hole..."

"No... no... don't... don't d- DO it in me," she whimpered, biting her lip as she watched the thing squeeze back inside. The sucking warmth of the kid's infantile vagina made my aching prostate twitch, and I knew I couldn't last much longer. "Oh, g- ghod," I grunted loudly as my balls came to rest and I felt my spongy dick head pressed tightly against the kid's hard little cervix.

Shaking with lust, instead of gently fucking the child, I left my dick in at full penetration, groaned heavily and just ground it deeply in the little girl, rotating my hips and stirring it in the creamy warmth of her sucking little cunt. I was dimly aware that my deep, frenzied grinding might hurt the delicate little organ, but it only seemed to excite her more.

"OH, n- NOOO, Daddy, NOOO, don't... USE me... USE me... USE me..." she whimpered, rotating her tiny peaches of butt cheeks into the mattress as my blunt penis stretched and bloated the sensitive flesh of her tiny vagina. My prostate clenched, the sweet rush of endorphins flooded my brain as I felt myself coasting up and over the top of ecstasy.

"Ogod... oghodddd... C- Cathy, is... is THIS how Daddy... used you? Did you let Daddy use your little f- fuck hole like this, Cathy?" I gasped, shaking and grinding the child deeply into the mattress. "D- Daddy c- can't HELP it, Cathy... Daddy NEEDS it... Daddy needs to... Daddy's going to... oh... oghod..."

"No, Daddy, stop... stop... stop it," the kid whined in a pitiful voice, gripping the bedspread with white knuckles as my bloated penis desperately ground and reamed her violated little vagina. "Don't... DO it... DO it in me..."

RAP-RAP-RAP. "Room Service," a voice called from the hallway outside. I froze, balls deep inside the little girl.

RAP-RAP-RAP. "ROOOOM Service, gotta pick up your tray," the voice said, in a more insistent tone. Omigod. If I didn't respond I knew the next sound I'd hear would be a passkey in the lock.

"L- later, get it later," I managed to yell, as my aching dick drooled pre-cum into the whimpering child impaled beneath me.

RAP-RAP-RAP. "C'mon, dude, open the door, we gotta convention goin' on, place is packed. We're out of trays, I gotta pick yours up, man."

Shit. Shit. Shit!

"Alright, wait... wait a second, I'm... ah... just out of the shower," I yelled, reluctantly dragging my wet penis out of the child's warm little cunt.

"Shhhhhhhh!" I mouthed to the pouting kid. "I'll be right back," I whispered as I jerked the bedspread over her slight frame and patted her for reassurance.

I dashed naked to the bathroom, ducked my head into the sink to soak my hair for plausibility, then wrapped a towel around myself, fumbling to tie it so it at least partially concealed my rampantly engorged dick.

Cursing quietly to myself, I hobbled across to gather up the plates & cutlery, tossed them on the damned tray and hobbled back to the door. I pulled it open just enough to hand over the tray. The kid glanced up at my flushed face and grinned as he took it.

"Hey, thanks, man. Sorry to bother you. Looks like you've been working out, huh?"

"Uh... y- yeah, right, here you go," I stammered, managing a weak smile as I closed and locked the door.

Although it was just past noon, the sky outside had darkened menacingly, so I flipped on the room lights, listening to the torrential rain lash the window as I padded back to the bed. My bloated dick jerked and tented the towel around my waist as I tugged off the bedspread and gazed down at the half-naked little tot.

She was sucking her thumb and gazing blankly at the ceiling, her spindly legs limp and splayed open, the wrinkled play dress bunched around her waist, the top turned down to expose her narrow, milky-white chest and tiny brown nipplets, the little cartoon panties lying beside her.

I unwrapped the towel and dropped it on the floor to let my rigid dick bounce free, fighting the urge to grab my cell phone for a photo of the scene as I stood naked beside the bed masturbating myself over my pale-skinned little Japanese fuck toy who looked so impossibly frail and tiny lying in the king-size bed, like a shy 6-year-old. But I couldn't even consider leaving evidence like that in my phone's memory card. Even if downloaded and deleted, forensics could probably find enough traces for very unpleasant consequences.

The child turned her head to blink and stare as I stood there slowly stroking my dick. She sucked her wet thumb out of her mouth to point at it and said, "That's bad."

I smiled down at her and slathered a bead of warm pre-cum down the length of my throbbing shaft.

"Yes, Cathy, it is," I nodded. "Daddy wants to do very, very bad things to little Cathy."

I sat on the bed and pulled the child's slight frame to a sitting position. She just silently pouted and stared down at the bed as I tugged the little play dress up and off to drop it on the bedspread. She immediately clapped both hands over her bare crotch and muttered, "Don't look at it."

My abdomen clenched at the sight of the shy little naked child, her soft flesh so pale it was almost translucent, exposing spidery blue capillaries just beneath the surface of her delicate crotch.

I groaned and bent to kiss her. She jerked her head to the side to avoid me, but I turned her face to plunge my engorged tongue into her mouth, fondling her little pigtails and stroking my tongue in the gummy gap between her missing baby teeth, groaning at the childish taste of pizza and sweet soft drink in her warm mouth.

Still kissing her deeply, I laid the child on her back and slid my trembling hand down the length of her skinny, naked body to spread apart her spindly thighs. I curled my hand between them to wiggle my finger into the juicy little hole, teasing and stroking the tender flesh of her miniature vagina.

The kid pulled away to break the deep kiss, jerked her head aside and mumbled something into the bedspread.

"Wh- what, Cathy? I couldn't hear," I panted into her hair as I gently finger-fucked the little girl. Still averting her eyes, she pointed a stumpy finger at the rigid penis bouncing and dripping in my lap. "Don't make me ride the horsey, Daddy... Don't make me do it," she whimpered quietly. "It's bad."

Oh, god, yeah. Another word. If she could verbally recall the things her Daddy did to her, maybe she'd be willing to recall memories of the tragic accident I needed.

I sucked my wet finger out of the pouting kid, lifted and carried her to a chair, holding her feather-weight body with one arm as I positioned it before a full-length, wall-mounted mirror. I sat facing the mirror and plunked the kid down to stand facing me, naked except for her clunky pink shoes and socks. She just stood there, pouting at the floor, hands clasped shyly behind her.

"Come on, Cathy," I said, leaning back in the chair and stroking my engorged dick. "Daddy needs you to ride the horsey."

"No. No!" the kid spat, whipping her pigtails as she shook her head for emphasis. "It's bad."

"Yes, Cathy, it's very, very bad. But Daddy needs it, Cathy. "You're Daddy's little girl. You have to make Daddy feel good. You have to ride the horsey until Daddy is all finished. Come on. You know how."

She was still frowning and pouting at the floor, but the naked child's tiny nipplets began puckering and stiffening as she shyly took a step forward, gripped my shoulders to steady herself and awkwardly clambered into my lap.

"No, Cathy, the other way," I whispered as I gripped her bony armpits and lifted, turning her to face the mirror. I draped her tiny legs to straddle my hairy thighs, her pink shoes dangling a foot from the floor.

"Good. Now... put it in, Cathy... put it in and ride the horsey, like a good little girl."

She glanced quickly at the mirror, to see my dick bouncing and dripping beneath her crotch, clapped both hands to her face and shook her head, violently.

I tugged her hand down to wrap her tiny fingers around the thing, tugging upward to smear the spongy dick head into her drooling little hole. "Put it in, Cathy. Daddy needs to fuck you."

I withdrew my hand and watched in the mirror with dry mouth as the little kid whimpered and pouted and strained. She grunted loudly when the bloated dick head finally popped into her wet little hole and whined pitifully as it slowly glided in. I gasped and shuddered at the creamy, sucking warmth of her, watching with bulging eyes with a completely unimpeded view of the heavily veined shaft penetrating the tender, featureless crotch of the tiny child until her pelvis was resting firmly on my pubic bone.

Panting hard, I held perfectly still at full penetration to stifle premature orgasm as my dick leaked pre-cum inside the warm, slick little cuntlet, staring with bulging eyes at the deeply impaled child in my lap, as tiny and frail as a lifesize Hasbro doll. The kid just sat there, whimpering quietly with her hands covering her face.

When the imminent crisis had passed, I reached around the naked child to caress her flat chest and babyfat little tummy.

"Okay, little Cathy, you can ride the horsey, now. You know what to do," I whispered, assuming, since she'd brought it up in the first place, that her Daddy had taught her how. And, oh... my... god... had he ever.

The kid peeled her hands from her face, gripped my knees for support, then lifted her knobby little knees one after another to plant the soles of her clunky shoes on the chair cushion, astride my thighs. Biting her lip and pouting, she slowly raised her waif-like body up, up, up, until only the tip of my dick head penetrated her, then slowly lowered herself, inch by inch, until she again came to rest sitting on my balls.

My abdomen clenched and my fingers stiffened around her slight body as I watched the little kid rise and fall, alternately disgorging and swallowing my veined penis back inside, her tiny pink lips clinging wetly to the thick shaft on the up-strokes.

She settled into a deliciously slow rhythm, whimpering, "No, Daddy, stop..." on the up-strokes, and "Don't... DO it in me..." when her tiny bottom came to rest at full penetration. The combination of her wet, sucking little cunt and her petulant, whiny voice made me gasp and grit my teeth to stifle an instant orgasm.

After each four or five slow, deep fuck strokes, the little kid would settle down onto my pubic bone and just grind herself, around and around on my balls for a long, delicious moment, whimpering, "Don't make me do it, Daddy, it's... bad..." as she rotated her miniature bottom to squeeze and suck my aching dick before resuming her slow ride.

Mouth dry with lust as I watched the obscene show in the mirror, I croaked, "G- ghod, yes, Cathy that's so... f- fucking bad... Cathy's too LITTLE!" I hissed, my hands nearly encircling her willowy waist to swirl her tiny body on my balls and prolong the deliciously deep, wet grinding.

"Feels so f- fucking nasty inside little Cathy, I'm... oghod, I'm gonna... d- DO it in you, baby... Daddy can't... can't help it..." I gasped as my fingers tightened around the child's waist and I began trembling hard on the verge of orgasm.

Almost as if my response was a cue, the little girl settled herself down on my balls and dropped her skinny legs to straddle my thighs. The now deeply impaled child leaned her bony back against my chest and began a slow, forward and back rocking motion, swinging her shoes and thrusting her pale little tummy, whimpering, "No, no, don't USE me, Daddy... Stop, Daddy, stop it..." rhythmically in time to her tummy thrusts.

The child's pitiful whining rang in my ears as I gazed in the mirror at her pouty face, gently swinging pigtails, her impossibly skinny legs draped limply over my thighs, the glistening sex goo puddled at her crotch where our bodies joined...

Unable to stop myself I threw my head back a sudden clap of thunder drowned out my desperate roar of release as the torrent of semen erupted inside the whimpering little kid, my clenched butt jerking off the chair and desperately hunching into her, shaking violently and fondling her tiny nipples as the orgasm overwhelmed me.

The kid grabbed at her tummy with both hands, staring down at it and squealing, "NO, Daddy, NO, don't DO it in me, that's BAD!" as she felt my quivering penis uncontrollably jerking and heaving and spurting deep inside her sucking little hole. "Oh, NO! NO! NO! Don't USE me... u- USE m- me... UUUUUSE me... d- da... da... Daddeeeeeee!"

The devastating intensity of my first-ever climax inside a small child overwhelmed my brain, and it wasn't for many long seconds that I realized she was gasping as loudly as I was, her narrow chest heaving, her little pussy squeezing and contracting almost painfully on the spent dick that still deeply impaled her. It seemed that my orgasm, the sensation of male sperm ejaculating inside her, had triggered her own.

Too stunned and spent to move, I just lay back against the chair cushion, panting and fondling the naked, gasping child, staring into the mirror with glazed eyes, my nostrils quivering at the foul stench of warm sperm bubbling out of her overstuffed little hole and puddling in the hairs of my quivering balls.

The kid finally stirred, pried her eyes open about halfway and glanced around to see my face in the mirror staring at the puddle of semen leaking out of her. She ducked her head, clapped her hands to her face and began sniffling quietly, tears leaking between her tiny fingers.

"Y- you're not s- s'posed to... to do THAT in me, it's... it's b- BAD..." she sobbed, her bony chest heaving.

I caressed and murmured to the distraught little tyke, trying to calm both her and myself. Then it occurred to me -- she'd become slightly less reticent to use words after her first orgasm. Maybe I could coax her a little further along now...

"Cathy? Cathy, what's bad, honey? Tell me what's bad," I murmured, caressing her trembling tummy. Sniffling, she looked down and pointed to the slimy mess puddled around the base of my dick, where it disappeared into her body. "That," she announced.

"What, Cathy?" I coaxed, as my spent dick twitched and drooled a little post-orgasmic rivulet deep inside the little girl.

"That... that STUFF," she whined, pointing with one hand and wiping her tears with the other.

"Oh, that. That's... that's Daddy's sperm, Cathy. Why is it bad?"

The kid jerked her head down to avoid my gaze. "Cuz... cuz Mommy said so," she whispered.

Omigod. The child had used the "M" word! If I could coax her into talking about Mommy, it might be my jackpot payoff.

"Wh- what did Mommy tell you, Cathy?" I urged, gently caressing her bare tummy as my spent dick tingled gratefully deep inside her.

The kid jerked her head down and covered her face with her little hands, sniffling. After a long moment, she whispered almost too quietly to hear over the rain drumming on the window, "Not s'posed to let you do that in me. It's real bad."

"It's... it's okay, Cathy," I murmured, caressing her tummy and twirling a pigtail with my free hand. "It's not bad if it... if it feels good inside you, honey. Didn't it feel good when I... did it inside you, Cathy?"

The child trembled slightly, sniffled again and moved her head in a barely perceptible nod, still shyly covering her face with her hands.

I decided not to push it too far, yet.

"Well, good, I'm glad I made you feel good inside your little tummy, Cathy. Now, let's go wash up, okay?" I whispered, slowly lifting the naked child by her armpits until her molested little hole spat out my wet, limp penis, followed by a puddle of milky sperm.