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From: "Georgie Porgie" <georgieporgie@fastmail.fm>
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Subject: {ASSM} Rescuing Jenny 03: Telling Her Story {Georgie Porgie} (Mg7 pedo rom cons, b+/g7 nc bond spank)
Date: Wed,  9 Apr 2003 20:10:04 -0400
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          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

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"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.

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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.

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                               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 3: Telling Her Story

Jenny tells him some more about the the way she has been abused at her
babysitter's, while he comforts her.

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                             Rescuing Jenny

                            by Georgie Porgie
                            19 February 2003



                      Chapter 3: Telling Her Story

     After we hugged for a long time, Jenny's thoughts returned to the
reason I had brought her home with me, the reason she had run from her
babysitter's today and gone to the park where I had met her.  It still
felt strange to me, having this lovely seven-year-old girl alone with
me in my home.  I squeezed her hands just to reassure myself she was
real.  She lay on my 'SuperSoft' couch, sadly looking over at me as I
knelt beside her, holding her hands.  Her smile had faded to a frown.
I moved to sit on the couch, on the edge beside her.

     "The first time the boys tied me up they didn't really hurt me,"
she said, looking at my hands holding hers, then back up at my face.
"I mean they threw marbles at me, but that didn't hurt much and mostly
they missed.  They didn't take my clothes off at first, either.  They
just tied me to a chair with my arms behind me.  They ate up all the
cookies Mr. Carter let them have, and wouldn't even give me one.  They
started throwing marbles at me as a game.  When they finally got tired
of that, they untied me."

     "Aren't there any other girls there you can play with?" I asked.

     "No, just the boys.  Well, there was one, her name was Ashley,
I think, but I didn't get a chance to play with her because the boys
always kept me away while they played with her.  She stopped coming
after a week.  Every day that week they locked me in the basement and
kept Ashley upstairs.  I could hear her screaming and crying all the
way down there.  I didn't know what they were doing to her, but I
could tell I didn't want them to do it to me."

     So Jenny wasn't their only victim.  There was at least one more,
I thought.  That might make it easier to put a stop to it, if I found
no other way to save her.

    "The next week Ashley wasn't there, and never came back," Jenny
continued.  "The boys didn't lock me in the basement anymore.  Instead
they tied me on the table in the kitchen.  They tied me by my wrists
and ankles to all four legs of the table."

     I stopped her, and asked a question.  "Did they tie you to hurt
you, or was it just a game they thought you'd like?  Sometimes people
pretend being tied up, and it's just playing even if they're tied up
tight.  Then it's fun for everyone playing, and nobody is hurt as long
as everyone is very careful.  But if they tied you up to hurt you, or
they didn't ask you if you wanted to play, first, then it was wrong,
and they shouldn't have done it."

     Jenny looked surprised.  Apparently the idea of being tied up for
fun had never occurred to her before.  "They did it to hurt me!" she
answered tearfully.  "After they tied me to the table, they spanked my
bottom with sticks.  I yelled for Mr. Carter to help me, but he just
yelled back telling me to 'shut up or else' so I didn't yell anymore.
I tried to get loose but I was tied up too tight.  The ropes made my
ankles hurt, and they knew that because I told them.  They didn't let
me go until it was time for me to go home."

     "Were they all doing it?" I asked.  If I could get a witness to
back up her story, it would help.  I believed her, but that wouldn't
matter to any of the other adults, especially if I was in jail for the
crime of trying to do something good for her.

     "Yes," Jenny answered.

     "Wasn't there even one of the boys who didn't go along with what
the others did to you?"

     She thought awhile, her lip trembling.  I wanted to kiss that
lip again, but listening to her was more important at the moment, and
I could wait until she wanted it.

     "No.  Everybody hurt me.  Every one of them spanked me when I was
tied up.  None of them tried to help me.  Not even Mr. Carter."  Her
voice expressed her deep feeling of abandonment and despair.

     So much for a witness, then.  It would have been hard enough to
get a boy to do what was right even if he'd done nothing himself, but
there was no sense making a plan that depended on some boy ratting on
himself as well as his buddies.

     "Daddy would have stopped them if he was there!"

     "From what you've told me of him, I'm sure he would," I agreed.
"He sounds like someone who loved you very much.  I'm sure he still
does, wherever he is," I added.

     "You would have stopped them, too," she stated confidently.

     "Yes, I would.  I'm still trying to find some way to do that."

     "If you were one of those boys, you'd make them leave me alone!"

     I sighed.  This was going to be hard to explain to her.  "Jenny,
people aren't born knowing how to treat others right.  It's something
everyone has to learn, and people learn by making mistakes sometimes.
I think if I was one of those boys, I'd probably be doing the same
things they do, and hurting you just like they are.  It's only because
I'm older, and I've seen more and done more and learned from mistakes,
that I know it's wrong to treat people that way."  That was all she
was ready to hear, I decided.  I clenched my teeth to keep from adding
angrily that the very same span of years that matured me into someone
beneficial to Jenny and other girls her age, was this sick society's
justification for keeping me away from them, thereby putting her in
the company of, and at the mercy of, boys 'her own age' instead, just
the opposite of what a sane society would do if its members cared
about the safety and happiness of the children.

     "You would have hurt me too?" Jenny asked me, confused, pulling
her hands back from me.

     "Jenny," I began, "I care about you very much now.  I will never
do anything to hurt you now.  The person I am now loves you.  The boy
I was, way back when I was that age, might have gone ahead and hurt
you, maybe.  I don't know, maybe not.  But that boy isn't here, just
me, and I want you to be safe, and I want you to be happy, and I'll do
my best to find a way to make it happen.  I love you, Jenny."  I held
my hands out to her, inviting her to put her hands back in mine.

     After a second, she did.  And she smiled.  "I love you, too, Ke-
Irving."

     I half-smiled back.  "It's okay to call me Kenny, Jenny.  It's a
good name.  It's one I chose instead of one I got stuck with."

     "Ok, I'll call you Kennyjenny!" she teased.

     "Just 'Kenny' is fine," I laughed.  "A kennyjenny is the two of
us stuck together in one piece."

     "Like this?" she leapt up at me and wrapped her arms around me.

     I tried to answer, but my mouth was busy, just like hers, so I
nodded.  She giggled.  I hugged her back as tightly as she hugged me,
and returned her kiss for as long as she wanted.  Finally, at long
last, we disentangled our arms and she fell back to the soft cushions,
her dress landing out of place with her panties in sight on the side.
As much as I liked seeing her panties, her face held my attention,
for the beauty of such a radiant smile.  Happiness of a girl-child is
surely the greatest possible beauty there can be.  Oddly, only certain
people seem to see that beauty, and they're all hated for having that
ability.

     I noticed her smile waver, as if she wanted to continue, yet she
hesitated to spoil the moment.  "Go on, I'm listening," I encouraged
her.

     Her smiled faded away completely.

     "The next day I thought I was going to die.  They grabbed me as
soon as I came in the door, held my arms and tied them behind my back.
Then they tied a rope around my neck with a real big knot and put me
standing up on a chair.  They got up on the chair and tied the other
end of the rope to the fan so that when they kicked the chair away I
would die.  They kept telling me they were going to kick the chair
away, too."

     "That wasn't just mean, that was extremely dangerous!" I growled.
"People shouldn't do anything that stupid even when they're playing.
But I guess since you're here, well," I ended, unwilling to finish the
sentence.

     "I called for Mr. Carter again, but when he came in and saw me
there all alone, he just spanked me hard with his hand and left me
there still tied up.  When the boys came back, they unbuckled my belt
and pulled my pants down to my ankles.  I couldn't stop them.  I told
them to leave me alone but they didn't.  They pulled my belt tight
around my ankles, too.  They untied me when Mommy came to see why I
wasn't home yet, and pushed me out the front door with my pants still
down.  For that, Mommy spanked my bare bottom hard when we got home,
with the big paddle.  She spanked me more times than I can count, and
that's a lot."  Jenny started to cry, as much from the injustice as
from the remembered pain.

     I leaned down close to her and rubbed her arms, finally lifting
her up to hug her.  I held her as she cried on my chest.  I would have
enjoyed her touch, and her warmth, and the lovely scent of her hair,
the silky feel as I cradled her head, but I was too angry and upset to
focus on that at the moment.  "Why didn't you tell her what the boys
were doing to you, so you wouldn't get spanked?" I asked.

     "I tried to," Jenny wailed, "but she was mad about something at
work, and didn't even listen to me.  She just told me to shut up and
gave me ten extra swats for making excuses.  I never tried to tell her
again."  By then, nothing her mother did surprised me, if it was cruel
and insensitive and hurtful.

     We hugged in silence until Jenny's crying subsided.  I laid her
back down, and straightened up to see her better, but I stayed close
enough to hug her immediately if she needed me.

     "Who are these boys?  Are they ones you know from somewhere else,
or do you only see them at the babysitter's?"

     "Some of them go to my school.  One is in my class.  Some of them
I see on the playground sometimes.  But most of them I only see there,
at Mr. Carter's.  They all live nearby, I guess, because nobody gets
picked up and rides home.  They all walk, like I do."

     She started to cry again as she told me of her next torture.  I
gently held her hands, ready to hug her if she looked like she wanted
it.  "The next day the boys didn't actually hurt me, but they made Mr.
Carter hurt me for them.  They tied my feet together and tied them up
to a doorknob in the pantry.  Then they pulled my blouse over my head
and wrapped it around my arms so I couldn't move them.  I struggled to
get away but they kicked me and made me lay there.  Then they all took
turns making streams at me, getting my pants all wet.  They even went
on my face and my hair.  I closed my mouth and my eyes, but they got
my blouse even wetter than my pants."

     Damn, I wanted to break those little bastards in half.  Or even
smaller pieces.

     "Then they untied me and pulled my blouse back down, and yelled
for Mr. Carter to come and see what I had done.  Mr. Carter made me
take off all of my wet clothes, right there in front of all the boys,
and that was everything I had on except one sock and shoe.  Then he
pulled me to the bathroom, gave me a sponge and some paper towels and
dragged me back to the pantry.  He made me clean up the boys' mess,
before he let me dry off my legs and hair.  The boys stood around
watching me almost bare naked in front of them, and laughing at me."

     "How could he possibly think you did that?" I had to know.  My
own abuse at the hands of society was ample proof of human stupidity,
but this much stupidity was unbelievable even for humans.

     "The boys told him.  He always believes what they say."

     Or else he's just a sadistic bastard like the boys are, and he
went along with it, I thought.  Not surprising her mother would choose
someone like him, over someone like me or her step-father, to babysit
Jenny.  I just huffed.  There was nothing I could say.

     "Then Mr. Carter got out a wire hanger from his closet, made me
bend over his lap, and he whipped me with it on my bare bottom.  When
I tried to run away, he had the two biggest boys hold me down, then he
spanked me some more.  All the boys watched.  I had to put on my wet
clothes to walk home, and Mommy spanked my bare bottom with the big
paddle again, even when I told her Mr. Carter had already spanked me."

     "How long ago was that?" I asked, and caressed her cheek, wiping
away her tears.  I reached over to a table and got a tissue for her.

     "That was weeks ago.  They did a lot worse things to me since
then!"  She sobbed out the tale of another day, this one relatively
harmless.  "They tied me to the table again.  I was wearing this dress
then.  They grabbed me at the front door and carried me to the kitchen
and held me on the table and tied my hands and feet like before.  Only
they didn't just spank my bottom.  First they pulled my dress up so
all of my panties and even my shoulders were showing.  They spanked me
with sticks again.  I screamed for help but Mr. Carter only yelled at
me to shut up.  Then the boys pulled my panties down as far as they
could, but since my legs were apart, that wasn't very far.  Then they
spanked me some more on my bare bottom and left me there tied up and
went outside to play.  When Mr. Carter came to the kitchen to get some
more beer and saw me like that, he just grunted and went away.  He did
untie me when I had to go home, though."

     I sat silently, patiently, sympathetically, as Jenny wiped away
more tears with the tissue I'd given her.

     "They always waited for me at the front door after that.  I never
had a chance to do anything before they held my arms and took me away
to tie me up.  The next day they tied me on top of the table again,
but that day I was wearing pants.  They said if they tied me up first,
they wouldn't be able to pull my pants down very far.  So before they
put me on the table, two boys held my arms while others unbuttoned my
blouse, unbuckled my belt, and unzipped my pants.  I struggled like
mad and screamed, but of course Mr. Carter only yelled at me again.
When they swung me up on the table, two boys held my arms and legs
while the rest pulled up my blouse and pulled my pants and shoes off.
They didn't stop there, like I was begging them to.  They pulled my
panties all the way off, and pulled my legs apart and tied my ankles
so that my legs were spread like before, only this time my panties
were completely off of me and they could see all of me."

     'Pearls before swine' was never truer, I thought, and both the
pearls and the swine parts of the saying were perfect analogies.  It
aroused me to imagine Jenny laying on a table, naked, with her legs
apart and her bare bottom in view, and maybe someday I'd be allowed to
see her like that, but I would only want that to happen if she allowed
it, not by taking it the way those boys had taken what they wanted and
ignored what she wanted.

     "Before they tied my hands, they took my blouse off me.  I was
bare except for my socks and a barrette in my hair.  I thought I knew
what they were going to do then, and I was mostly right.  They spanked
me with sticks on my bare bottom like before, for a long time, while I
screamed and told them to stop.  When I was too tired to struggle any
more, they started tickling me all over, even here, until it was time
for me to go home.  It didn't hurt, but it was even worse than being
spanked.  They wouldn't stop it no matter how much I begged."

     Jenny sobbed harder than ever, soaking the small pillow she held
to her face.  My heart ached with grief for her misery.  I leaned down
and kissed her cheek, and she put her arms around me and hugged me.  I
lifted her and held her and slowly rocked her, then I lay down beside
her on the couch and held her in my embrace and kissed her while she
told me of another torture the boys had inflicted upon her.

     "There's a big window on the side of the house," she began again,
after a long pause, "that you can barely see from the street, but you
can see it when you cut across the lawn to the end of the fence like
the boys in the neighborhood do for a shortcut sometimes.  One day
they took me and held me in front of the window, holding my arms back
behind me.  Then only three of them stayed in the house and the rest
went outside and went to the window and sat down in the grass, like
they were watching a show or something.  The boys who stayed waited
until the others were watching, then they pulled up my blouse and
pulled it over my face so I couldn't see.  I tried to get away from
them like always, but they were stronger than I was.  I didn't even
try to call Mr. Carter that time."

     "What was he doing all this time, and all the other times?  Isn't
he ever there with you?  I mean, he's supposed to be babysitting you,
right?"  If I'd been her babysitter, I never would have let her out of
my sight, except maybe for a game of Hide-Away-Seek.  But I also would
have never agreed to babysit any boys, either.

     "I don't know what he does.  All I ever see him do is watch tv,
drink beer, yell at me, and spank me."  Anger seeped from every word.

     "Well, if you stay around here long enough, Jenny, we might watch
tv together, but you'll never see me do any of those other things."

     The instant she heard 'stay around here' her eyes opened wide and
she looked at me, holding her breath, her mouth slightly open.  "Can I
stay here!?" she asked.

     "I don't know, Jenny."

     "Please?  Pleease?"

     I sighed.  "I want you to stay, but it might not be up to me."
Very few things in my life were up to me, and my bitterness must have
shown on my face, for a moment, since she pulled away, startled.  I
felt sorry for getting her hopes up when I didn't know any way to make
it come true.  I had never figured out how to make anything good come
true.  Nothing that mattered, anyway, like finding someone to love.  I
tried to sound more reassuring, and said, "We'll talk about it later,
okay?  Go on with what you were telling me, please."

     Jenny continued her tale of torment.  "One boy took my belt off
and looped it around my knees to stop me from kicking him.  He pulled
my pants down to my knees and slid the belt down to my ankles.   The
boys outside cheered when he pulled my pants down and showed them my
panties.  He pulled my pants all the way down to my ankles and they
all cheered again, then started yelling 'strip the slot, strip the
slot' over and over.  He turned me around and pulled my panties down
to my knees, and everyone outside watching saw my bottom.  He pulled
my panties back up, turned me around again, and pulled them down
again, real slow.  I heard a lot more cheers and I knew there were
more boys out there than there were at first, some I didn't even know,
and I struggled as hard as I could.  They lifted me up and pulled my
pants and panties off completely, then jerked my blouse off and held
my arms out wide while all the boys watching clapped and cheered about
seeing me bare naked."

     'Pearls before swine, again,' I thought, 'or Girls before swine,
for an even bigger contrast.'  And even worse, the swine only wanted
to stomp this girl into the mud, not treasure her like she deserved.
Perhaps 'Girls before boys' would be the biggest contrast of all.  No,
that would be unfair to boys who weren't like these boys.

     I knew what Jenny looked like with her dress out of the way, from
swinging her around.  No girl I had ever seen was any sexier, as far
as I could recall.  But I envied those brats who had seen her without
her panties hiding anything, all the more infuriated that they neither
deserved nor appreciated what they'd had.  I would have appreciated
it, and if making her happy earned me any right to happiness of my
own, then I deserved it, too.  But try telling that to the bigots who
run this world.  Try making them see the difference between hurting a
girl and loving a girl.  Hopeless, because from the emotional distance
they see her, they don't know or care what she wants any more than
those boys did.

     I'd missed some of Jenny's story during my reverie.  I held her
and listened, gently stroking her hair as she finished relating that
day's miserable events.

     "I thought they would spank me again, or go play something else.
Instead they got the rope they use to tie me to the table, and tied my
hands to the curtain rod over the window.  They tied ropes to my legs
and jerked on them so my legs were spread apart wide.  They tied them
to the bookcase and the sofa so that I had to stand naked in front of
the window.  All the boys outside stared at me, pointing and laughing,
and even more boys showed up to stare at me.

     "One of them got a camera and took pictures of me in the window,
and in the picture you can't see the ropes, so it looks like I was
doing it by myself.  They said that they might show the pictures to
Mommy, and I know if they did she'd spank me barebottom forever.  He
took a lot of pictures and gave them to the other boys, too.

     "After that, they did start spanking me, taking turns inside with
me while the rest watched from outside, having fun watching me being
spanked.  Some of the boys I didn't know came in and spanked me real
hard, too.  I cried and cried and cried, and begged them not to hurt
me.  Everyone just laughed and laughed while they spanked me, even
Jeff and Andrew, who are in my grade at school.  Andrew said he was
going to show my picture to all the boys at his cub scout meeting,
too.

     "Jeff wasn't there before that day, but he went by on his paper
route, saw all the boys outside watching, and wanted to see what they
were doing.  He's been there almost every day since.  I think he tells
the other boys in my class what he does to me.  At school, I see them
looking at me and whispering all the time."

     As Jenny told her sad tale, sometimes she would pause to cry,
wetting my shirt with her tears.  Then she would squeeze my chest in
her arms a while, and go on.  I stroked her hair, her neck, and her
back with one hand, and left the other one close to her face.

     "Does your bottom still hurt?" I asked her.

     "Yes, but not from that anymore.  They spanked me a long time
yesterday.  They tied my wrists right away and dragged me outside to
the back porch and tied me to two different doors.  They pushed the
doors shut and hurt my arms by stretching me.  They unbuttoned my
blouse and pulled it over my head with a rope around my neck to hold
it so I couldn't see."  Jenny's gesturing to illustrate her tale kept
her body wiggling against me, but kept me from hugging her.  I moved
my hand to her hip, and gently caressed her there instead of trying to
keep out of the way of her arm movements as she tried to show me, as
well as tell me, what they had done to her.

     "I knew screaming wouldn't do any good, or telling them to let me
go.  I didn't cry or scream at all, while they pulled off my pants and
pulled my panties down.  I knew they would do that, and I knew they
would spank me, and I knew there was nothing I could do to stop them.
This time they tore off my panties and ripped them up into pieces
instead of just pulling them past my feet.  I almost cried when they
jerked my legs real wide and tied ropes to my ankles.  I didn't start
crying until they spanked me.  They kept me tied up bare and naked out
on the back porch, spanking me most of the time, from the time I got
there until Mr. Carter finally sent me home.  When I got home, Mommy
found out I wasn't wearing any panties, so she spanked me some more."

     I was sickened.  How could that bitch treat her that way?  How
could anyone hurt any girl, let alone one as sweet and pretty as her?

     "Jenny, I have some lotion that will make your bottom feel
better.  It's supposed to be for sunburns, to stop the pain, but it
should work for spankings, too.  Would you like me to rub some on
you?"  I wasn't sure how she would answer.  I held my breath and
waited.  I didn't move my hand from her hip.

     "Yes, I want it to stop hurting.  Just don't press very hard when
you put it on.  Daddy used to rub me with lotion as soon as I got home
from school, before Mommy got home.  But he used chocolate butter or
something like that."

     Tenderly I rolled her over, face down.  "I'll get the lotion and
be right back.  I'll get some cocoa butter lotion, too, if you want,
Jenny."  She nodded.  Before I left her, I knelt by the couch and
cautiously lifted her dress, exposing her panties.  She lay quietly
and let me slide it up and lay it around her shoulders.  She gave no
protest when I stretched the waistband of her panties and very slowly
revealed her bottom.  She could see me doing the same thing the boys
did to her, physically:  removing her panties and exposing her bare
bottom.  The two identical acts had a huge emotional difference to
her, as different as rape and love: she trusted me, knowing that I
cared about her and would never hurt her, while she knew the boys
delighted in hurting her and didn't care about her feelings at all.

     Of course, I knew that since lawmakers and police can't tell the
difference between rape and love, they wouldn't see any difference
between what I was doing for her and what the boys had done to her.
They would treat me far worse than they would treat the boys, if they
ever found out what I was doing right then.  They'd already proven
that.  But I didn't let their threats stop me from taking care of
Jenny's needs.

     I slid my hands along her hips, removing the thin pink veil,
leaving her panties around her thighs.  I have no words to describe
the beauty of her bare bottom.  For those who have ever seen perfect
angelic sexiness of a little girl in person, fully revealed in good
indirect sunlight, there is no need of my words, and for those who
haven't, no words in any human language would ever suffice to make
them understand.  Of course that all supposes that they're one of the
few people with the ability to see such beauty at all.

     Jenny turned her face to me as I stood to go get the lotion.
"After you're done," she asked, her eyes alight, "I want another
kennyjenny!"

     I ran.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

      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 - And now for something completely different...

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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