Message-ID: <41732asstr$1049883003@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <georgieporgie@fastmail.fm> Content-Disposition: inline Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit MIME-Version: 1.0 From: "Georgie Porgie" <georgieporgie@fastmail.fm> X-Epoch: 1049854052 X-Sasl-enc: FzArQIrmL/3u8BeiEzPKiA X-Original-Message-ID: <20030409020731.EB2C9309A6@www.fastmail.fm> X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Wed, 09 Apr 2003 03:07:31 +0100 Subject: {ASSM} Rescuing Jenny 02: Play Time {Georgie Porgie} (Mg7 pedo rom cons play) Date: Wed, 9 Apr 2003 06:10:03 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2003/41732> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, gill-bates Don't skip over this disclaimer! It's important! This and other stories by Georgie Porgie can be found at: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/GeorgiePorgie/www ()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()() "If the First Amendment means anything, it means that a state has no business telling a man, sitting alone in his own house, what books he may read or what films he may watch." -- Justice Thurgood Marshall Never let anyone try to tell you that you're not allowed to READ A STORY because you're under some stupid arbitrary age that changes from country to country, and year to year. But if you're under the stupid arbitrary age at the particular time and place you read this, keep quiet about it. And never let anyone try to tell you that you're not allowed to READ A STORY because some people currently in power in the place you live (no matter if that's your country or your home) have decided THEY don't like to read what YOU like to read. But if they've 'banned' this story, then keep quiet about it reading it. The author does not condone abuse of any person, by any other person, regardless of the ages, genders, heritage, or political or biological relationships between any of the persons involved. Abuse includes any activity done without the willing participation of everyone directly involved, unless done to prevent other abuse under this definition. But it also includes using force or threats to interfere in, disrupt, or prevent the activities of others NOT committing abuse under this definition, by others who are NOT directly involved. Any person guilty of abuse under this definition should be arrested to prevent such abuse. "There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written or badly written. That is all." -- Oscar Wilde Fantasies are fantasies, and are not real life. This story is a FANTASY and if it involves abuse of anyone by anyone else, then nobody should act that way in real life, nor tolerate anyone else acting that way in real life. But neither should anyone object, in real life, to anyone else's FANTASIES, let alone try to justify real-life abuse because of them. In over 30 years of reading and writing stories like this, the author has NEVER hurt any real person, nor tolerated anyone else doing so. Enjoying FANTASIES like this DOES NOT and NEED NOT not make anyone a monster in real life, as long as they understand that real people are not to be treated this way. ()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()() This story is Copyrighted (C) by Georgie Porgie. All rights reserved. It may be FREELY reposted to any appropriate newsgroup providing all the following conditions are met: 1. This header remains attached to the story unchanged. 2. The full disclaimers below remain unchanged. 3. The subject line is unchanged, allowing potential readers to decide to avoid the story if they wouldn't like it. 4. The story is posted unaltered, either by addition or deletion. People who flood the newsgroup with a hundred stories, none of which have story codes, are obnoxious morons wasting the time of everyone reading the group, and providing nothing of value. I don't want any of my stories to be posted by obnoxious morons. It may be FREELY archived on any appropriate web site providing all the following conditions are met: 1. The web site links ONLY to: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/GeorgiePorgie/www rather than rudely BYPASSING all of the descriptions and disclaimers that would otherwise be required. or 1. The web site provides FREE access to the story without restriction (including, but not limited to, 'registration' or charging a fee), 2. The link title includes enough description to allow readers to decide to avoid the story if they wouldn't like it, and 3. The reader is required to SEE, if not read, the full disclaimers and description prior to deciding whether to read the story, just like it is on http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/GeorgiePorgie/www 4. The story is archived unaltered, either by addition or deletion. ()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()() Rescuing Jenny This fantasy involves a man and a seven-year-old girl playing and having fun, mostly in a non-sexual way but with sexual overtones, and only in the third chapter, the girl telling him what numerous boys did to her: bondage, humiliation, spanking, and (a very rare occurance in my stories) one brief 'golden shower' (ugh) and death-threat episode. Hopefully, the bondage and abuse will not be too distressing for people reading it for the romance, but if you feel it's necessary to skip that, continue with chapter four without missing too much. This story is not typical of my other stories, and differs in many significant ways. For one thing, in this story, the girl actually does get rescued, because she's lucky enough to find someone who cares about her enough to take the serious risk of helping her. Chapter 2: Play Time Jenny and her new friend play some more, each thoroughly enjoying the other's company. ()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()() Rescuing Jenny by Georgie Porgie 12 February 1993 Chapter 2: Play Time Five minutes later we were heading to my home, Jenny laying down in the back seat, hiding under a map. I had to make sure no one was watching when I let Jenny get in. Of course I can never be sure, but since this society has never let me have any peace of mind before, I didn't lose any over a possible additional kidnap charge. Fortunately my garage is part of the house, so there we didn't have to sneak and run and worry about my neighbors. I was worried about my safety, agonized over Jenny's sadness, aroused by the memory of kissing her in the park, angry at the bastard who could just sit and listen to her screams, relieved at having made it safely home, puzzled over the whole situation, excited about having such a pretty girl alone with me at home, but frustrated because everything else was spoiling it, and hungry, all at once. I decided to take care of the easiest problem first. Jenny was easy to please, since she apparently didn't get to eat at all at her so-called babysitter's. He didn't serve snacks, he just let the kids go get what they wanted when they wanted it, until everything was gone. And with Jenny tied up, I thought, there was that much more for the other kids. That may even have been what got them started. She said it was the first time since she lost her daddy that anyone had let her eat ice cream. I silently called her mother several words that I never say in front of children. When we were finished, and I had rinsed and put away the bowls, I noticed she had some ice cream smeared on her upper lip and chin. When I told her about it, she began to wipe it off with her hand, but I gently held her wrist. "There's a better way that doesn't get it all over your hand, you know. Here, close your eyes, and I'll clean it off for you." Jenny closed her eyes and tilted her face upwards. I bent down, put my arms around her, and began licking her face clean. She giggled and opened her eyes, put her arms around me, and we spent the next few minutes hugging, giggling, kissing, and licking each other's faces. "There, that should be clean enough. Oh, by the way, you never did tell me whether you were ticklish, did you?" After a few more minutes that again left us breathless from laughter, we were sitting on my bed, her in my lap facing me, in a motionless embrace. "I love you, Kenny" she stated, in a clear but quiet voice. My heart soared through the clouds, landed on the grass and did cartwheels, and leaped back in my chest, thumping. I remembered something Charles Dodgson said, 'Ah, happy he who owns that tenderest joy, the heart-love of a child.' I knew it was true. "I love you too, Jenny" I replied, and hugged her tighter. "I don't want anyone to hurt you, ever, and if I can stop it, I will." "Do you want to know what else the boys do to me?" she asked. I could tell she was verging on tears just thinking about it. "Not just now, Jenny, let's have some fun together first, and then I'll listen to anything you want to say, I promise. You can tell me all about it later. For now, let's play together like you said no one ever does with you anymore, ok?" "Ok," she smiled meekly. "Has anyone ever swung you around, Jenny? I doubt that your mother ever did, but your daddy might have. Has anyone ever done Ping Pongs with you, or loop-overs?" "I don't think so, I don't know what you mean," she said, puzzled. "Well," I said, taking one of her hands in each of mine, "this is how you do Ping Pongs. You're already sitting in my lap facing me. Keep your legs where they are, around my waist. Ping!" I lowered her backwards until her head nearly touched the floor. Her hair formed a golden halo on the floor around her face, now grinning from delight. "Pong!" I pulled her up close to me and quickly kissed her forehead. "Ping!" She fell backwards. "Pong!" I pulled her upright and kissed her. By now she was giggling with glee. As she went up and down in time to my sing-song Ping-Pong, I watched her dress go up and down in reverse, alternately covering then revealing her panties completely, even her belly button sometimes. While she was down, she didn't notice me looking admiringly at her pussy, spread apart a few inches from my hardening cock, protected only by a thin layer of pink cloth, stretched over her enticing mound like a layer of paint. Oh how I wanted to get those panties off of her. But never, NEVER, would I use force against her or do anything with her she didn't enjoy. "This is fun!" she sang. "I like it too," I told her. "Would you like me to set up my camera and take some pictures of us playing together?" She agreed, and I set it up on a tripod as quickly as I could, setting a remote release switch under my foot by the bed. "Ready to play ping pong?" I asked. She climbed back onto my lap, and as she did I adjusted her dress so it wouldn't get caught in back and would fall completely when she swung downward. This time, she swung up and down in time to the flash of the camera and the beat of the film winder. I was glad I had spare rolls of film handy, because I had to reload after only twelve shots. I was getting a little hot anyway, and not from the play. "This time you can do some loop-overs. I'll show you how they're done. It's a little tricky, but I'll make sure you don't get hurt. You lean half-way back like you're doing ping-pongs, then you raise your legs up, curl your back, roll off my lap and land with your feet on the floor. I keep ahold of your hands to steady you and pull you up at the end of the loop. Then you get back on my lap and do it again. Ready?" Jenny was ready, willing, and able, and loved every second of it. I snapped off another roll of film, sometimes just after her dress had fallen to her shoulders on the way up, when her legs were still spread with her pussy inches from my face, and sometimes after she landed, her bottom toward the camera, her dress draped over her head, her arms held behind her so she couldn't straighten until I let her up. She had one of the sexiest bodies I had ever seen, with the loveliest skin tone, front and back, a smooth creamy pale pink, with tiny pink breasts. My cock was hard and stiff, and I kept imagining pulling her panties off her. There was nothing stopping me from doing everything I wanted to do to her, except for my own conscience, as unyeilding as a brick wall. There was no chance of me ever hurting her. Too bad her mother couldn't say that. After the next film reload she let me swing her around. At first I swung her by her hands, which we both enjoyed. Then I had her sit on the bed and raise her feet. I took a firm grip on her ankles, lifted her off the bed, and swung her upside down in front of the camera. "Reach for the floor!" I suggested. "See if you can touch the floor with both hands at once." I held her just low enough that she could, which was just low enough that the hemline of her dress swept the floor as well. Her dress had fallen far enough to reveal most of her neck and half of her upper arms and of course everything else not covered by her panties. I held her legs apart and swung her side to side, singing "Swing, swing! Swing, swing!" The camera flashed almost as fast as it could wind the film. I turned her around and let the camera get a rear view while I studied her pussy, chancing the merest brush of her panties on my nose. When I ran out of film I swung her back up on the bed, and she asked me to do it again, as she pulled her dress back down around herself out of habit. "Let me rest a bit first. You're a big girl, and even little girls get fairly heavy after a while, did you know that, Jenny?" I knew every little girl likes to be called a big girl. "My heart is beating like thunder." And not just from the exercise, I thought. "Can I listen to it, Daddy?" she piped up. "Sure," I chuckled, and unbuttoned my shirt and bared a place on my chest for her to put her ear. It tickled a bit at first, but I didn't want to start that again, so I put my arms around her, caressing her shoulders and back and stroking her hair as she listened to my heartbeat. Then it dawned on me: she had called me "Daddy". By mistake, surely, so I let it pass. "Now can I tell you the things the boys at Mr. Carter's have done to me?" she pleaded. I had brought her here mostly because she needed someone who would listen to her tell about this. We had had enough fun to last through the worst she could tell me, I hoped, so I carried her gently to the den and tossed her high in the air, onto the couch I call my "SuperSoft". She responded with a squeal, an instant of fright, then in sheer delight as she flumphed into the cushions. "Toss me again, please, Daddy?" I knelt beside her and took her hand. "Actually, Jenny, I'm not your daddy, although I wish I was. I'm ready to listen to anything you want to tell me, unless you really want to play a bit more." "Oh, Kenny, did I call you Daddy? I guess I wish you really were." I sighed. "Jenny, I have something else to tell you, too. My name isn't really Kenny. It's Irving. I hate that name, so you can call me Kenny if you want to. Or call me Daddy. I wish I had a daughter, and I wish she was you. If I had a chance to love you forever, I would love you twice as long as that." If only you wouldn't grow up, I added to myself. Jenny smiled, reached out, put her arms around me, and hugged me very tightly. She didn't say anything. I guess she forgave me for lying to her. We sat like that for awhile, just enjoying each other's warmth. ()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()() This and other stories by Georgie Porgie can be found at: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/GeorgiePorgie/www -- {Georgie Porgie} georgieporgie@fastmail.fm http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/GeorgiePorgie/www -- http://www.fastmail.fm - The professional email service -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+