"Everyone made a big deal out of it," Kirstin Dunst told People magazine when being asked how it felt to kiss the world's sexiest man, Brad Pitt. "But I'm 12 and he's 31, so kissing him was weird. I'd rather kiss him if he was 17."

I read the quote just to make sure I've got it right. This little cunt is saying it feels weird to kiss an older guy, even when that guy is a big, loser movie star sex-symbol like Brad Pitt. Who does this little cunt think she is, anyway? A little twelve-year-old cunt should thank God when she gets a chance to even play-act at getting it on with an older man. She obviously needs to be taught a fucking lesson, which is why I'm dogging her ass through the streets of Hollywood.

She's in the back of a limo with her aforementioned co-star and his cute cunt of a girlfriend, Gwyneth Paltrow. I had been set to nab the little Dunst Cunst inside her family's house when the limo pulled up, and the big shot movie stars got out. The little cunt then walked out her front door dressed to the nines -- a black party dress, hair done up, black stockings, and a heels.

They must be going to some kind of dinner party, because Bradley boy and the Gwyneth are decked out, too -- Brad in a tux, and Gwyn in a sheer, silver dress sliced all the way up the side of her legs to her skinny waist. They hug and do the kissy face thing, Kirstin climbs inside the limo and they're, so caught up in their Hollywood bullshit lives they don't notice the Mustang dogging their asses.

Twenty minutes later, they pull up to a townhouse, and they pile out of the car. Brad follows the two cunts up the outside steps -- checking out their asses no doubt -- and Gwyneth opens the door with a key. I check my updated index to the movie stars' homes and confirm the address as the love-shack Paltrow and Pitt are now sharing. How fucking cute -- they invite little Kirstin over for a night of "play grown up."

I hadn't counted on bagging a two for one tonight, and my cock hardens at the prospect. Gwyneth is a little old for my tastes, but it would be a trip forcing her and the little Dunst Cunst to go lezzie on each other. Pitt is another story. I have three options: I can cap him right off the bat, tie him up and make him watch, or ask him to join in. He has kind of a bad boy rep, and the third alternative is a distinct possibility. I decide to play it by ear.

I watch the limo pull away, and exit my car. I scan the outside of the townhouse to see what kind of security they've sprung for. Nothing outlandish -- pretty basic: door alarms at each of the two points of entry, motion sensors outside the bay window in front and along the small courtyard wall in back. I trace the wires to a line running off the roof to a pole about half a block away. I dig inside my truck of treasures and get out the trusty electrician's overalls. I'm up the pole in a jiffy, the power to the townhouse is cut, and I'm back to my car inside of five minutes.

I spy through the window with my nightscope and I can see the little Hollywood brats all spazzing out over the power outage. Gwyneth breaks out some candles, and I can see them laughing now at their impromptu candlelight dinner. I strip off the overalls and slip my mask over my head. I check my equipment --buck knife, Ruger, night-stick, stun-gun, rope, gags, electrical tape, dog collars, whip, glass cutter, suction cups, DW40 -- take one more scan of the neigh-borhood, and then slip out into the 7:00 PM darkness.

I'm up to the house in seconds, and I choose a back window at the side of the townhouse for my entry point. Shielded from sight by a clump of bushes, I affix the suction cup to the window pane nearest the latch and score a deep circle into the glass. As I pop the hole out I hear the tinkling of glasses and the laughter of Hollywood brats who are about to have their lives become waking nightmare. I smile at the prospect of being the harbinger of cold reality into their pam-pered, sheltered lives, and I feel my cock harden into the tensile strength of cold steel. This would be a real feast to savor tonight, and I licked my lips in anticipation.

The window creaks up with barely a whisper after a few doses of DW40 and I pull myself up and inside like a panther scaling a tree. The laughter and glass tinkling gets louder as I pad noiselessly across the floor to the door. I'm in some kind of study. The door leads out to the main corridor and it's open. Judging from the sound of the voices and clinking dinnerware, the dining room is off to the right. I peer out into the dark hallway and see the flicker of candlelight and what appears to be the roar of a fireplace reflected against the walls. I take a sniff of the air and smell dry, burning cedar mixed with the aroma of steamed vegetables. It figures these Hollywood brats would be eating vegetarian. I smile to myself. That will only make them weaker when they face a true carnivore.

I ease out into the hall and stay in the shadows, following my out-line as it blends in with the rest of the dark shapes caste in fits about the dim room. They are talking. I stop a moment, curiosity getting the best of me. "So, how far have you gone with a boy?" I hear Gwyneth ask, and my ears immediately perk up even more. There is something strange about the quality of the actresses voice, too, something husky and somewhat cautious ... hesitant .. nervous ... almost as if ...

"You really want to know?" Kirstin giggles like a stupid little girl.

"Come on," Gwyneth goads her. "We're all adults here. You can tell Brad and I. We swear we won't tell anyone."

"I let guys kiss me," Kirstin announces, trying to sound all grown-up, just like her sophisticated hosts.

"Really," Gwyneth gushes. "I bet you like that, don't you?"

"Um hm," Kirstin giggles. "I like that a lot."

"Do you let them do anything else?" Gwyneth presses.

"What do you mean?" Kirstin giggles nervously.

"You know what I mean," Gwyneth eggs her on. "You're a woman now ..."

"Oh .." Kirstin tries to sound mature. "That. Yeah, I know what you mean. Sometimes ..." she adds quickly. "If he's really nice." "So what do you let them do?" Gwyneth's voice is even huskier now, more intense.

"You know ... stuff ..."

"Like what kind of stuff?"

Kirstin giggles.

"You need some more champagne, don't you?" Gwyneth asks, and I hear the fizz of bubbly sloshing in crystal. "That's it. Take a nice big sip. It's good, isn't it?"

"Um hm ..." Kirstin answers.

"It had better be for all the fucking money it cost me," Brad speaks for the first time.

"Bradley!" Gwyneth scolds. "We don't want to hear about that. Kirsten was just telling us about her love life, weren't you, darling..?"

"I guess so ..."

"Please, go on," Gwyneth presses. "You were telling us what else you like to do with boys besides kissing. Do you let them touch your body?"

"I g..guess ..." Kirstin stammers.

"You have a very nice body," Gwyneth purrs. "Boys tell you that, don't that."

"I .. I guess ..."

"Do you ever let them feel your breasts?" Gwyneth asks. "You have such cute little breasts. I bet they can't keep their hands off them."

Kirsten giggles nervously, and there is an awkward silence.

"You look so lovely tonight," Gwyneth says after the long pause.

"You are a beautiful young woman. You have such a great body, too. I love the way it looks in that dress. Could you stand up for a moment, and let me have a closer look at that dress. It's positively gorgeous, isn't it, Brad ..?"

"Fuck yeah ..." Brad burps drunkenly.

"Bradley!" Gwyneth snaps. "Sometimes, he can be such a .. pig," she cursed.

"Listen, babe ..."

"Bradley!" Gwyneth hisses under her breath, silencing him for good. "Now stand up," she tells Kirstin. "That's it .." she coos. "You look absolutely scrumptious, darling, especially in the candlelight. Look at those adorable little breasts. I could just eat you alive ..."

Kirstin keeps giggling nervously. I can't believe my good fortune. I've unwittingly stumbled onto these two Hollywood brats attempting the seduction of Kirstin Dunsts' underage pussy. This puts a whole new wrinkle in the evening's festivities. I inch closer and peered around the corner.

Gwyneth is right. The young cunt looks absolutely ravishing in her black dress, her barely pubescent figure shimmering in the candle-light. I inch even closer, gauging the precise moment I should pounce. Gwyneth stands up now and slinks over to where Kirstin stands giggling and trembling. The stunning actress boldly reaches out and strokes the smooth fabric of Kirstin's dress with the back of her hand. The sen-sation of Gwyneth's light touch skimming the contours of her ripe, young body sends visible tremors through the cunt's twelve-year-old frame.

"That feels different doesn't it," Gwyneth's husky whisper cuts through the silence. "When a women touches you ..." she sighs, turning her hands over so that her fingers now trace the outline of Kirstin's budding bosom against the lacy softness of her black cocktail dress. "Men can be so .. rough ..." she moves her mouth closer to Kirstin's shivering face and quickly flicks her tongue along the twelve-year-old's trembling jaw, gliding slowly up until her lips graze the girl's earlobe with a mischievous, sucking nip. "Do you know what I mean ..?" she stares into Kirstin's wide, dumbstruck eyes and clasps her hands. "You are so beautiful, I hate to think about all those cloddy teenage boys with their rough hands just .. manhandling your tender little body."

"Wh .. what are you ...?" Kirstin starts, but Gwyneth puts her finger across the teen cunt's lips.

"Shhhh ..." Gwyneth soothes the twelve-year-old's flushed face with a soft kiss on her trembling lips. Kirstin instinctively draws away, but Gwyneth's determined arms lock her prize in a warm embrace. Then the beauty's hands are all over the teen's ripe young body -- her soft ass, her tiny waist, her budding breasts, her shoulder blades, her quaking tummy, the burning wet spot now puddling up between her dewy thighs. As Kirsten gasps in shock and bewilderment, a headrush of Gwyneth's sensuous perfume floods the little girl's soul and she collapses in her seductress's arms, her tongue now joining Gwyneth's in the forbidden dance of Sapphic desire.

I look at Brad, and he's sitting drinking his champagne, his cock shamelessly exposed in his pumping palm. "Fuck yeah ..." he grunts to himself in his drunken stupor, just waiting for his turn with the delectable piece of ass his girlfriend has managed to serve up for their candlelight dinner. As Gwyneth works off the lacy confines of Kirsten's frock, I catch my first glimpse of the twelve-year-old's bare tit, and I can contain myself no longer. I stride into the room with my Ruger pointing straight at the pair of pussy-grinding cunts.

"Okay, enough of the preliminaries," I hiss, waving the gun into their startled faces. Brad sizes up the situation immediately and hits the floor sobbing. "Don't shoot me, man. You can rape their cunts, just don't shoot me."

"My fucking hero," Gwyneth spits in disgust as she eyes me.

"You can continue you what you're doing, you rug munching cunt," I snarl. "I just wanted to join in, that's all." I point the gun to the table. "You," I gesture back to Kirstin. "Take off that fucking silly dress and get your teenage cunt up on this table." With one flourish, I send all the plates and glasses crashing to the floor. When she doesn't respond immediately, I grab her skinny arm and throw her on the table top. Gwyneth makes a move at me, but I jab the barrel of the Ruger into her snooty nostril and she freezes instantly. "And you strip, too!" I order the older beauty. "She's going to lie down on her back," I shove Kirsten onto the table, "and you're going to eat her out while I fuck her face." I turn to Brad's cringing form. "And you, Bradley, can fuck your girlfriend's tight asshole while she eats out the twelve-year-old's cunt. Come on, people," I shout like Francis Ford Coppola. "Positions, or else I cut this scene right now, if you know what I mean!"

Kirsten, terrified beyond all comprehension, kicks off her cocktail frock, leaving her wearing only her panties and black stockings. I force her back onto the table and stand over her face. "You can take care of her panties," I tell Gwyneth, "but leave the stockings and her shoes on, and the same goes for you." By this time, Gwyneth has stripped herself down to nothing but her high heels and stockings -- the cunt wasn't even wearing any panties! She must have figured bagging Kirstin was a done deal.

Kirsten doesn't know where to focus her terrified eyes -- on Gwyneth's face buried in her bald slit or my cock as its full nine inches snaps free into the air. I haven't had a decent teenage ball-sucking in a good long time, so before I bang away into her screaming throat I decide to tea-bag her pretty mouth. I lower my balls to her terror-clenched mouth and rub my prickly pears across her disgusted, twelve-year-old lips. She shakes her head as if to say -- 'No way' -- and I laugh. I'm just about to pry open her jaws and stuff my balls inside her mouth when Gwyneth's eager tongue lashing strikes pay-dirt on the teen's clit and she yelps instinctively.

Bingo! Just the opening I need. I lower my hairy balls deep into Kirstin's groaning mouth and flash her the Ruger to let her know biting is strictly prohibited. She sobs now as I dip my scrote-bag up and down in her retching mouth. "Come on, cunt, suck 'em .." I hiss. "Suck those balls like you suck the juice out of a peach."

Gwyneth smiles up at me as she strafes the twelve-year-old's clit with her catlike tongue. "Fuck her face with your balls," she eggs me on. "I love seeing her pretty little mouth gagging on your big hairy balls." She works one finger, then two fingers into Kirstin's hairless slot and jabs her tongue under the hood of the teen queen's clit. This sends fuck tremors undulating all throughout her skinny, barely pubescent body, and her moans are muffled under the folds of my prickly ball-sack. "That's beautiful, darling," Gwyneth hisses as she works a third finger into the girl's convulsing snatch. "You should feel how wet she is," she licks her lips as she speaks to me. "Raping her mouth with your balls is really turning her on. She's trying to fight it, but she's a fuck toy. Just look at her hot, little twelve-year-old body. She was born to be a little fuck-toy, weren't you darling ..?"

Kirstin grunts as Gwyneth slides a fourth finger into her stretched-out hole and begins twisting her hand like a giant screwdriver into the teen's wet, tight cunt. I look up at Brad who is still standing behind Gwyneth trying to pump his cock into hardness. It is a wormy two-inches of hardness. Some limp-dicks just can't perform under pressure. "What's wrong with your fucking boyfriend?" I ask Gwyneth in a mocking tone. "I thought he was supposed to be some kind of super-stud, sexiest man in America."

"Super-Dud is more like it," Gwyneth jeers. "It's all hype. Bradley can't get that pea-shooter of his hard to save his life, and when he does it's only four inches, and that four inches fires off in about three seconds. Now you," she gushes, "you've got a beautiful cock and ball set on you. What is that -- ten inches?"

"Nine," I correct her. "Nine and a half when I'm pissed off."

"Remind me to piss you off, then," she giggles as she punches her entire fist up into Kirstin's flat, hard tummy. "I'd love to see you choke fuck her little face with that big, dreamy dick of yours," Gwyneth purrs.

"You're a real perv, huh ..?" I ask as I withdraw my spit-slickened balls from Kirstin's sobbing mouth and position the purplish helmet of my enraged prick at the puckering entrance of her pouting lips.

"You bet, stud," Gwyneth slams her fist harder into Kirstin's ravaged twat, and the teen mewls like a whipped kitten. "Fuck her face. Make her gag on it. She looks so beautiful under duress, doesn't she ..?"

A cunt after my own heart," I snicker as I plunge my entire nine-inch cock down Kirstin's throat with one decisive thrust. She kicks up like stuck piggy, but Gwyneth holds her down and I pin her shoulders to the polished oaken table as I slice into throat and bump my cockhead up against the opening to her windpipe.

"Come on, Bradley," Gwyneth turns around and spits in her boy-toy's face. "Get that prick hard and fuck my ass, you limp-dick faggot. Look at that guy fuck her face. That's what I wanted you to do tonight, but look just look at you. You can't get that wormy little cock of your hard to save your fucking life. Look at him, Bradley. There's a real man, a real man who knows how to rape a cunt hard."

Brad shook his head in shame, still unable to work his prick to an even semi-hard state. I continued throttling Kirsten's throat as she gurgled and gasped desperately for oxygen. Gwyneth was now fisting the teen like there was no tomorrow, burying her entire palm into the teen's womb up to the wrist. Kirsten tried one last burst of pathetic strength to wrench herself free for our tandem torture, but it was way too little way too late. I withdrew my prick with a Pop! from her gagging mouth, and drool just flooded out of the corners of her mouth and down her flushed cheeks. I then spanked my cock-head across her pretty face as she sucked in the sweetness of life-giving oxygen; then when she least expected it, I reinserted my tool and plumbed the depths of esophagus once more.

"Shit, you rape throats good," Gwyneth cooed in admiration. "Would you choke fuck me next, please ... I mean real hard, no holding back."

"I think I could arrange that," I sneer. "She about ready to cum yet?" I ask as if we're doctors and I'm consulting on the status of a patient.

"Almost," Gwyneth smiled as she screwed her fist even deeper into the teen's uterus and then pinched her swollen clit sadistically.

"Ugggllllllhhhhhhh ..." Kirstin's muffled cum-wail vibrated against the sleek, veiny skin of my hard cock, and I felt my balls tighten in readiness. As the twelve-year-old cunt writhed about in the throes of a major fuck-quake, I fired my load deep into her roiling tummy, withdrawing my spewing engine slowly, and letting the last spurts of my spunk spatter across her lips, nose, cheeks and dilated eyes.

"Now move!" I ordered Gwyneth, striding across the table and jumping down to the floor. She stepped aside and I roughly spun Kirsten over onto her flat belly. "Arch your back and stick tour ass up," I harshly commanded, slapping the teen's skinny butt-cheeks for much-needed emphasis. Transformed now into a mindless fuck-zombie, the little cunt did as she was told immediately, offering me her ass while her stretched-out pussy yawned open and dribbled teenage fuck-juice onto the table-top.

"You've got enough left to fuck her ass?!" Gwyneth gasped in awe.

"I've got enough left to her ass, pussy, ears, nose and eye-socket," I snapped back.

"Will you marry me?" Gwyneth laughed as she climbed on top the table and walked over to Kirstin's face.

"Sorry," I reply. "I don't like to be tied down. That's strictly for cunts." As I say this, I withdraw the rope from my utility belt and proceed to truss up Kirstin's hands behind her back so that she has absolutely no center of balance. I loop the remaining rope up around her budding titties and pull them tight so they distend from her thin torso like swollen, pink cherries. Gwyneth now has Kirstin's weeping mouth pressed against her silky snatch, gripping the teen by the hair and maneuvering her inexperienced mouth like a mop across her wet pussy.

I place my inflamed prick-helmet at the tight ring of Kirsten's sphincter and press it forcefully into the rim of tight, teenage muscle. Kirsten tries to fight me off, but reduced to helplessness in her bonds she can only offer the most pathetic resistance. "Eat that cunt, darling ... that's it ..." Gwyneth pets Kirstin's hair as the twelve-year-old munches her first rug. "It's hard to believe this is your first time. You're just a natural, I guess ... a natural little pussy eater .. huh ..?"

I stab my beefy prick into Kirsten's juicy poop chute with one savage thrust now, feeling the fleshy walls of her ass tear open to accept me. I slap her slender ass-cheeks as I barrel ahead, reaching beneath her tummy and finding her distended little clit. As I slam-bang her ass raw, I strum her fuck-bump, and she began trembling like the thoroughly dominated little rape-doll she's quickly become.

"Jesus, you re fucking her ass good," Gwyneth's teeth chatter and her whole body is writhing now as Kirstin has her pushed to the point of her own climax. "You should feel the way she's eating my pussy now. The harder you fuck her ass, the more wild her little tongue gets. Fuck her ass, baby. Fuck her teenage asshole, hard! Make the little cunt cum. Oooo shit .." Gwyneth bucks her hips and mashes Kirstin's face into her spewing pussy. Kirsten begins flailing about wildly, too, her slender little twelve-year-old body wracked with the ecstasy of yet another soul-shattering cum-quake.

I ride her ass through the throes of her spastic climax, driving my cock even harder into her tight, teenage bowels, trying to extract every ounce of sadistic pleasure form her pliant, passive, thoroughly subjugated flesh. Both cunts lie panting across the table-top, their full attentions turned to me and my merciless battering ram as I take my depraved desires to the metaphysical point of no return.

"Look at him fuck your ass, darling," Gwyneth whispers in awe as she pets Kirstin's hair and brushes back the teen's sweaty bangs from her dilated eyes. "That's a real man fucking your ass. You're never going to get it this good again. A cock like that will spoil you for the rest of your life. You'll start searching for one like it .. you'll fuck anything that moves in your quest, but you'll never find one like that. Feel the way he feels inside you .. hard, strong, merciless ... oh, darling, I envy you so much getting fucked in the ass by an awesome cock like that ..."

"I love you ..." Kirstin suddenly gushes to me, her wide, vacant eyes tearing up with the confession. "I love you, Mr. Rapist ..."

Fuck! I don't need this shit. Not another one. When will these starlet cunts learn. They're just rape meat to me. Why do they always have to fall in love with me? They are such fucked-up little cunts. I pull out of her now blasted asshole and fire another stream of spunk across her alabaster butt-cheeks. Gwyneth immediately crawls over and begins licking my cum off the teen's ass, staring up at my hard cock and begging me to fuck my face.

I look at my watch. Monday Night Football is going to be coming on in about twenty minutes, which gives me just enough to get home, pop open a beer and settle down for a classic showdown between the Cow-boys and the 49ers. I zip up my pants and sprint out the door, listening as both cunts call out behind me -- "Come back, Mister Rapist. We love you. Please come back ..."