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Message-ID: <43823asstr$1060481402@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: thedisciplen@yahoo.com (DiscipleN)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 9 Aug 2003 20:06:01 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Brush Men: Door to Door  [slow, M/g, M/F, pedo, oral, anal, coersion, rape, preg.]
Date: Sat,  9 Aug 2003 22:10:02 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Brush Men: Door to Door
by DiscipleN
Copyright (c) 2003, by DiscipleN. All rights reserved.

---
This is a big departure for me, a story about a pedophile con-artist
with a heart of gold. (yeah right...) Starts with a small bang, but
then he takes his time to convince the mom that he can teach her and
her daughter to protect themselves from predators like him, although
his methods are less than altruistic...
---



Mary giggled delightedly from her room while I neatly groomed the
bonsai redwood in our kitchen atrium. I could say we were both playing
house, but her doll house was an elegant, victorian replica. Whereas
our tired, old three bedroom, seventies tract home sat within earshot
of the monthly gun battles for gang turf, pimp streets, and junky
parks. We lived just on THIS side of 'the tracks'. I didn't play
house. I maintained it, like social service workers maintaining heroin
addicts with methadone. The house would never amount to much. I had
much greater hopes for Mary.

My little nine year old, how swiftly nine years has seen Mary blossom,
her golden blond hair and dusky brown eyes highlight the softest, pink
skin of her perfect face. She is an adorable little girl with
promising pudges of baby fat where her hips and breasts will
eventually develop. Her giggle is a sweet piccolo of innocence and
charm. Even the rare, but occasionally necessary act of correction,
hurts me to inflict it. I would never physically punish my child, but
I fear time outs and attended penance injure me as if I had taken a
switch to my beautiful child. Her father, a good provider who is not
an overly affectionate husband, rarely corrects our daughter. His
bringing the bacon home is an iron clad excuse to miss her
experimental rebellions. However, I suspect, while in his strong
presence, Mary finds little need to misbehave.

I am the weak one of the family. Take for example, unwanted
solicitors. They annoy me as much as they do everyone else, and I have
no difficulty shooing them from my door. Yet in just a few seconds, I
would find myself in a most peculiar dilemma regarding one particular
Brush Man.

Ding-Dong, tolled the house bell.

I let it ring a second time before walking softly to the door and
peering out the peep hole. A rather plain, late-middle aged man
wearing a fifty dollar suit waited patiently for my attendance. I
prepared to politely request his retirement from my property.

I opened the door. His easy manner had fooled me, and he beat me to
first greeting.

"Allow me ma-am, to present my parole tag." He thrust a thick plastic
coated card through the gap allowed by the sturdy door chain. Before I
thought to shut the door on his forearm, I spotted our state's
corrections emblem on the card. I didn't recognize it, but it's
official label had been typed in thick blue letters. Larger, red
letters had been reserved for the crime. 'Sex Offender'.

"My goodness!" I burst out.

"Yes ma-am, I promised the state parole board, that I would use my
talents only for good, if they would sign my parole. I was a model
prisoner throughout my incarceration, and have been fully
rehabilitated for the betterment of myself and my community.

"I think I've heard quite enough, sir. Now if you would please go..."

"Absolutely ma-am, most people in this neighborhood do not need my
services, but if you should have a daughter, or even a little boy, you
may need my help to protect them from the criminal acts for which I
was justly removed from society."

That was the moment I could have sent the horrible man away, but there
is something hidden in the natures of each and every one of us human
beings which sometimes reaches out and compels us to seek beyond our
self-imposed limits, even in the face of obvious danger. To me it felt
like a slight jolt of curiosity.

"What did you do?" It took only a momentary fascination of a forbidden
world to enable my downfall.

"That's a good question, ma-am. Obviously, I must be able to support
my claims with proper proof. This identification card is merely a
scrap that any forger could whip out in an hour. I on the other hand
am in possession of a frightful body of knowledge regarding bile and
sickness that no man of medicine would dare to seek. I would not force
that knowledge upon an upstanding woman as yourself, anymore than I
would force myself upon a pie cooling on a neighbor's window sill."

He coughed then, obviously struggling with his demons to furnish the
answer to my request. I should have snapped out of it and banished him
for good, but his brazen demeanor and earnest blue eyes gave me pause
equal to his own.

"I was caught and convicted of molesting a girl of seven years of age,
ma-am." He choked up artfully near the end of his sentence. I noticed
a heightened glisten in his downcast eyes. "But I swear to you, I was
no amateur. I have nearly a hundred other, similarly heinous
experiences to atone for. I can proudly attest that the criminal
justice system does eventually find the guilty, and in my case reform
them."

A hundred acts of perversion! My pause entered a lengthy period of
shock.

"That, poor, innocent seven year old, is the one I will always
remember...

"She was not my first victim, but I met her early in my black path of
child predation. I had not yet taken to hunt for little girls in
places normally considered safe, such as lost and found sections of
department stores and police departments. I met little Sally and her
mother on a sunny day walking their dog around the block." I was
driving by in my newly washed Dodge Aspen. I simply stopped on the
other side of the street and hailed them for directions. They were
kind to supply them, and I very obviously consulted a map book while I
watched them continue down the street and reenter their residence.

"A week later, I began to survey their neighborhood and study Sally's
parent's schedules. They were smart parents who never left Sally
alone. If they went on a date, they hired strong, older women to
baby-sit. Their doberman pincer was particularly adept at announcing
the arrival of strangers.

"Occasionally, I would drive by and wave obviously to Sally and her
mother while they walked their dog. Usually they smiled back.

"Within a few weeks, I was ready. I had become very confident of
myself at that time. My prior offenses had been timid things, the
antics a highly sexual boy might attempt. But I learned from my
mistakes, whatever devil's luck saved me from them, and I was ready to
breach that family's defenses head-on.

"It took only a pound of poison laced hamburger to take out their dog.
His initial barks might have brought out a father and his favorite
shotgun a hundred years earlier, but modern man is particularly
conditioned to betray their own animal companions for a little
shuteye. It was near midnight, and the doberman quieted about a minute
after I hurled it over the fence and my subsequent, tactical retreat.

I disabled the high-tech security alarm with two wires and a penknife.
The phone line was easier to cut. It was the window latch which proved
a superior defender, and I spent nearly twenty minutes patiently
working it clear, crouched behind a blooming rhododendron. With the
window open, I double checked the space behind it and entered as
stealthily as any thief. My own reason d'être, however was to deposit
something in a particularly soft receptacle.

"Sally had her own room, and like most homes, like your own home
perhaps, it was stupidly designed to be encountered down the hall
before reaching the master bedroom. A soft yellow night light was
plugged in the hallway outlet. It's faint glow glimmered off her door
handle.

Interrupting the man's frightful tale, I found myself gasping for air.
I hadn't breathed once since he began it. Now I was freshly terrified
because yes, in my home, my dear, Mary's room was the first from our
hallway entrance. The man nodded, and cleared his throat, recognizing
the reason for my gasp. Yet he continued as if it did not matter.

"Very lightly, I knocked on Sally's bedroom door. There was no answer,
at first. Every forty seconds, I would knock and step out of the hall
and kneel down in view of the door. Several minutes later, I was
rewarded by a soft click. The little girl opened her door and peered
into the hall. She immediately noticed me kneeling, nearly a room's
distance between us, and I simply smiled and put my finger to my lips.

"'What are you doing in my house?' She whispered.

"I motioned her gently to come closer. She took only one step out of
her room, fully revealed in her little blue nighty which I imagined
smelled like lilies. Her pink fluffy slippers made no sound. I lifted
my head and whispered back. 'Can you keep a secret?'

"The beautiful little cream tart got big eyes and she almost smiled.
She nodded, trying to look serious.

"'You're too old to believe in fairy godmothers, so I'll tell you the
truth.' I began, 'Say little girl, what's your name?"

"'Sally.'

"'My name's Bob. Do you like your name? I always thought mine sounded
dumb.' I softened my whisper and she took another step closer to hear
me better.

"'I like Sally.'

"'Sally's a smart name. I'll bet you're pretty smart.'

"'Un-uh, I still can't spell very good.'

"'What's important is, can you keep a secret?' I told her, and
mimicked her serious look. 'Smart little girls are the best at keeping
secrets.'

"'What secret, mister?'

"I'm a pretty bad man, Sally. I broke into your house because I wanted
something, but now I feel really sorry, and I'm trying to clean up. I
promise, I'll put everything back, right where it belongs, but I can't
only do that if you keep my secret.'

"'Huuuhh?', The little girl gasped at my revelation. I could see she
wanted to maybe even yell, but she considered what I said, but how I
said it made all the difference. My 'honesty' confused her just enough
to think twice.

"'You'd better not take anything mister Bob. I'll tell my daddy on
you.'

"See, if you do that, I can't put it all back right. I'm having
trouble remembering where this last bit goes, and if you tell on me,
I'll have to run.' I was very obviously hiding something behind me.
She took the bait and a couple steps closer.

"'What do you have? You'd better put it back!' She continued to
whisper, but strained to look around behind me, still several steps
distant.

"I slowly turned towards her and lifted my hidden hand to reveal it's
treasure. A twenty dollar bill dangled from my fingers. 'Do you
remember where I found this?'

"'Did you go into my mommy and daddy's room? That's where they keep
money in their wallets and purses.'

"'No, no, I didn't. I'm too afraid of your daddy.' Sally liked that
answer. She gave a tiny, confident grin. 'What if I just give this to
you? Can you see it goes in the right place?'

"Again, she nodded and walked closer. I held out the twenty with a
steady and natural reach of my arm. She came just close enough to
grasp the bill and pluck it from my fingers. I think she coo'ed then.

"'You'd better go now, mister.' She remembered.

"'Yes ma-am, I will. I'm so sorry for breaking in. I'll never do it
again.' I stood up calmly, and turned away from her. Then I turned my
head back. 'Do you remember where the door outside is? It's dark in
here.'

"She pointed, and reached out her arm, unconsciously taking one more
step..." Bob broke off from his story. He began to cry.

"You horrible man, how could you?"

"I was sick, ma-am, sick and misguided. Today I would strangle myself
if I ever tried to do that again. I'd chop off my hands. I'd mutilate
my body. That's why I'm here before you, begging the powers for
forgiveness, because of what I did to poor Sally when she reached out
for the last time." Bob was now sobbing.

I felt tears running down my own cheeks. We shared that cry, and I
knew Bob for what he was, a truly repentant man, who had dedicated
himself to good works, knowing he could never repay his debt to nearly
a hundred little girls like Sally.

I couldn't help myself from  imagining what he did to her, after she
reached out. I imagined him leaping, grabbing her arm, pulling her
close and stifling her scream before she could open her mouth. I
imagined him stuffing a wadded handkerchief into her mouth to silence
her.

These things I have read of in newspapers and detective novels.

I imagined him, his whispers turned harsh, commanding her to be silent
and stop struggling. Little girl tears, choked back to a whimper
wouldn't trouble Bob. His sexual focus would simply burn through any
emotional distractions. Yet his senses would be scanning the end of
that dark hall for any sign of parental inquest.

He would move her then, perhaps to the couch. Little Sally's eyes are
bloodshot. She can't help but to gag on the muffle stuffed in her
mouth. He slaps her butt to quiet her again. On an immaculate, plush
sofa, I imagine him removing her dress, fondling it's buttons. Bob
would not hurry, he'd earned too much confidence. He'd offer mild
words of comfort to the girl and his manhood would swell as her fear
increased.

"It's okay, honey, I just have to see you. You don't need these lovely
clothes. We'll do something much lovelier soon."

Now Sally is frightened enough to be close to shock. Her body gives up
fighting and slackens in Bob's arms. She grows cold and hovers near
fainting. Bob removes her gag last. He warns her sternly not to utter
a peep, but she is too terrified. Her cool naked skin sucks at the
warmth of Bob's inflamed flesh as his hand travels around her immature
figure. Her slight breasts receive much attention. Their nipples arise
only from her insulin chill, not his tender pinches.

He kisses them, one by one, by one by one, back and forth until his
erection can be ignored no longer. He places her head to his small
head and presses it unwavering into her mouth. Bob continues to coo at
her and offer comforting praises but she is merely a cold marionette.

"See, it's soft and clean. I washed very carefully before I visited
you tonight. You can even suck on more of it if you like. Would you
like more?"

The child remains silent, nearly limp.

Bob does not wish to hurry, but his need grows great. This is his
pinnacle of perversion. Even his cool manner breaks beneath this
accomplishment. He frees his throbbing organ from her child lips and
places the innocent carefully, legs spread before his face. Sprouts of
downy hair tickle the underside of his nose as he begins to nourish
himself from her secret place. His own fluids seep into that pristine
couch. Quickly, her immature entrance is slick with his spittle, and
he rises over her, placing his tool at her gate. He still is gentle,
his last reserves of patience thinning. The animal inside him craves
meat. Slowly he presses into little Sally, and she wakes slightly from
her trance and finds a worse hell beginning. It is too big. It presses
confidently, but her body's resistance is fierce. Yet, Bob's slick
slobber proves to master her small opening, and his effort is rewarded
with a grunt.

He is beyond quiet things now, and his only thoughts are in final
conflict. He begins his rhythm slowly, but time accelerates around
him, his grunting grows loud and the girl now cries openly, her pains
are greater than her shock.

"Fucking girl CUNT, I'm going to pump a gallon in you!"

Finally, a door creaks open, feet stir, and voices, inquiring
discretely, crescendo into panic. Mother or Father breaks into the
living room, stunned by the rape scene. Bob's cock pistoning
impossibly into their baby girl's nearly hairless slot. Screams erupt.
Bob shoots boiling sperm into the tiny hollow between Sally's legs.
Cum squirts out around her fucked cooze, and Bob bellows his orgasm
like a werewolf thrilling at the full moon.

Quickly, the scene changes to blows. Bob is prepared, and his raging
opiates shrug off his attacker's successes as he counters with wild
exuberance. The fight ends quickly, and Bob takes one last glance at
the ruined, glistening pussy he has won on that eternally soiled
couch. He runs into the night, howling.

-------

Focus returned to my eyes, Bob eyes suggested he had guessed how my
imagination finished his story. All of the details of it, we knew must
have been wrong, but we understood, for the fundamental act itself, I
was horribly dead on.

After a few minutes, our moment passed, and he looked sheepishly at
me. I could not hide the rush of embarrassment that filled my face. He
pocketed his parole card. I felt suddenly warm.

"Ma-am, the reason I mention this story, and why I will never forget
it, is that Sally knew no fear of a stranger in her house. I was
simply another adult to be listened to.

"It is to her parent's enduring shame that they never prepared her for
the horrific danger of a sexual assailant. Every one is so sure that
it could never happen to them. When it does, parents themselves are
all too often unable to cope. They wind up blaming the victim, their
own devastated child! I swear to you that the reason men and women who
prey on innocents are not brought to justice more often is because
parents and their child are unprepared to face the evil of molestation
and defeat it."

"You see now, why I knock at your door, dear woman." His face was
still puffy and red and wet from the memory of his former, evil life.
"I cannot bear the number of children who live ignorant of their
weakness, unable to protect themselves. If I can help save one girl or
boy from Sally's fate, I would have earned true redemption in Heaven's
ledger."

My heart leaped twice. Once for this agonized soul that would know
peace only when he had met his maker, and a second time for my own
little Mary who was perfectly ripe for pedophiles and other sexual
predators. My sudden, frantic concern for her spoke at the end of my
heart's second leap. "What can I do to protect my child?"

Bob quieted at my question. I think his eyes softened even more, as if
a private wariness had relaxed. "You have to be very brave, ma-am. If
you are not strong, then you and your child will never be safe."

"I'd do anything for my Mary."

Mary! He brightened, the name echoing in his skull.  He assumed a very
confident posture, and he let his shoulders expand. His eyes met mine
from a greater height for the first time, and their blue pool,
earnestness, became steel dots lacking all doubt. "I know you would.
Ms... eh."

"Sanderson." I supplied my name.

"Ms. Sanderson, can you be strong for your Mary?"

"I want to be."

"That's why I'm here, Ms. Sanderson, to help you be strong. Because
that is how I escaped my terrible past, by learning to be strong.
Self-disciplined. And I learned when I have to be tough, on myself and
with... others." His eyes bored their steel credibility into my doubts
and drained them. "Do you mind if I come in?"

--------------- 2 -----------------

I blinked and remembered the door chain. By narrowing the gap between
the door and it's frame, without ever loosing sight of Bob's powerful
eyes, I released the chain. He waited, not a care on his face if I
shut it and locked him out.

I opened the door for him and checked my floor for offending disarray
or dust.

"Thank you Ms. Sanderson. I know we are going to do the right thing,
here today."

"Please have a seat." I indicated the couch. He took his place in my
husband's lounge chair.

"This is very comfortable." He surveyed the living room. Already he
had detected the sound of my daughter humming and her occasional
giggle. He showed no outward sign of his reaction to it.

"May I get you - something to drink?"

"That would be very kind, just some water please, with maybe a twist
of lemon?"

Like a fool, I left a known sexual predator alone in my living room
while I sliced a lemon for his glass of water. I returned as quickly
as I could, and when I reentered the room, I caught him gazing at my
daughter's fifth grade school picture which stood on the mantelpiece.

"What a beautiful fireplace you have." He smiled very gentlemanly and
accepted his cool beverage.

"Is there some program we can sign up for, or books I should get?" I
immediately returned to the questions at hand.

"I'm afraid I've led you on without realizing it, Ms. Sanderson. I am
not here to sell you anything."

"But what else is there, a government sponsored workshop?"

"It's just me, ma-am. My methods are quite bold and direct. I'm sure
you'll agree that these things are best worked out in the safety and
privacy of your own home."

"Yes, well, perhaps... that does make sense. Except, I can't imagine
how anyone could entrust themselves to a convicted pedophile."

"I know I'm asking a lot, far too much even, but please hear me out,
and if I don't convince you, I'll leave you and your daughter with
nothing worse than having wasted a few minutes of your day."

"Please, proceed." I encouraged him.

"I have prepared a highly researched presentation, for adults and
their children. It is only like a workshop in that it is interactive,
but I am far more of an advisor and tutor than a consultant. I ask for
no payment other than heaven's mercies."

"How long does this presentation last?"

"Until it is effective." Bob answered evenly, seriously. He brightened
again. "It is my hope that we may succeed in one session. I promise,
however, I will succeed, even if I have to use harsher methods. You
can count on me, ma-am. I don't dare fail."

"What do you need of us?" I understood Bob wasn't planning on working
with me alone.

"I need adults and children to be together. This is a dire sharing,
and everyone must be ready to support each other. We have to trust
each other. I can only ask you this once, ma-am. Do you trust me?"

A dust mote hitting the carpet would have interrupted the quiet that
ensued. He'd asked the most important question. I honestly didn't
know, but the way he waited, ready to pack up and leave on a single
syllable, convinced me.

"I have to trust you Bob. There's no one else who can do what you do,
who knows what you know." I answered finally. "However," I stood tall.
"That doesn't mean I won't question you or give you carte blanche in
my home. I expect professionalism and will reserve an absolute veto to
shut you down if I feel it necessary."

"You have every right... no, you have an obligation to do so."

"Yes, I know I do. Well,..." There are no pauses more pregnant than
that one. "How do we begin?"

"Please, Ms. Sanderson, it's time to introduce me to Mary."

It was to be the second and last time I left him alone in the living
room. I didn't want to summon my daughter. I needed to prepare her.
Bob understood fully. He would wait. I entered our hallway and turned
to face the entrance to my child's room.

She knew I had allowed the caller to enter our house. Normally she
might have peered out to satisfy her youthful curiosity, but no doubt
the serious nature of our hushed tones and careful references to her,
gave her much pause. I found her playing with her dollhouse in slow
motion. Every change to it's interior decoration was weighed against
the serious dialog played out down the hall.

"Mary?" I inquired.

"Yes mommy." She gripped her dolly tightly. It was a hand-sewn rag
doll, far too fancy for any rag doll's self-esteem.

"How are you feeling today?"

"I guess okay, mommy."

"That's good, dear. I really like what you've done to your dollhouse.
You'll someday be either a famous fashion designer or an interior
decorator to the stars."

That provoked a blush arranged with a smile.

"Now, I'm going to need you for the rest of the afternoon. We have to
have a very  important talk. The nice man in the living room is here
to make sure you and I learn potentially life saving information.

"What about, mommy?"

"There are terrible things in this world, honey. I've warned you about
many of them, but some require special help to make sure you or I
never fall victim to them. You have to be on your best behavior, Mary.
This is a very adult thing. I know you're still quite young, but..."

"Oh, I'm old enough, mommy!" Mary lit up, ready to learn something
that only adults whisper around children. "You can count on me. I'll
be very grown up."

"That's good, my sweet darling. I know you will be. Come along now.
Mr. Bob wants to meet you."

My Mary's outburst of bravado dimmed from a swift attack of shyness. I
had warned her plenty about strangers. If only I had respected my own
advice this story might never have had to been told. Obediently, but
cautiously, little Mary clutched her dolly and walked straight up to
me. She attached one shoulder to my hip, nestled her head into my
waist and waited for me to guide her.

We entered the living room like siamese twins. Bob had left the lounge
chair and was sitting our couch. He instantly recognized the meaning
of Mary's shyness. He too began to look and act shy, shifting farther
away on the couch, paying a lot of attention to his patent leather
shoes. He glanced at Mary, like a parakeet might, shifting his head,
looking past us. It helped. My daughter relaxed against me, but she
did shift slightly behind me.

"Bob, this is Mary, my very precious daughter." I took a short step
sideways, separating us.

"Hello Mary, it's nice to meet you." Bob's voice greeted my daughter,
gentle and inviting like a cooing dove.

"Hi Mr. Bob." Mary looked at her own feet and flashed me a slightly
less concerned expression.

"As I told you, Mary. Bob is here to help us understand something.
It's terribly important that we listen to him and work with him.
Someday it could save you or me from an awful tragedy." Unfortunately,
my little introduction did nothing to allay Mary's natural wariness
around Bob. It probably made her even more timid, but my daughter is
very obedient, and I have earned her trust. We took a seat on our
large lounge chair She sat on my lap, and I held her.

The room grew very quiet. Bob shifted once more on the couch, moving
closer, keeping his head slightly lower than Mary's. He spoke again,
serious in manner, but respectful in tone.

"Young lady, I've promised your mother, I would do my best to explain
a tragic event that occurs more often that it is generally believed.
It has to do with a older man taking advantage of younger women.
Sometimes they take advantage of young boys. Very often they are young
girls."

I felt my Mary catch her breath, but she didn't say anything.

Bob surprised her by switching topics. "Have you ever watched a Kung
Fu movie or Chop Saki Film? Maybe you've seen a Karate demonstration
or know someone taking a Martial Art."

"Mrs. Oldivai takes a self-defense class, Tuesday's nights." Mary
surprised me.

"Really honey? I didn't know that." I told her. "Mrs. Oldivai is our
next door neighbor. She's sixty five." I explained to Bob.

"Yeah Mommy, she was telling Ms. Clement a week ago. I was playing
hopscotch with Sue-Anne out front."

Ms. Clement lives across the street and like to gossip with the
neighbors. I have to feign illness sometimes to escape her news reels
of scandals and her theories about extraterrestrial life.

"That's good for Mrs. Oldivai. She'll learn many valuable skills, but
even knowing Karate isn't always a safe bet. There are lots of women
and men who are very skilled at self-defense, but those classes don't
teach the most important thing about protecting yourself from a bad
man."

"What's that, Mr. Bob?" The man's hints had aroused my daughter's
curiosity.

"The most important thing a little girl can do is learn to surmount
her fear. You see, even if you know martial arts, that doesn't mean
you've been trained to face a terrifying situation. Most self-defense
schools go out of their way to create a pleasant environment, which is
hardly suitable for teaching people how to face real danger."

"What's 'surrr-mont', mommy?"

"Surmount means to overcome, to get over...

"It means to beat your fear, to master it, to control it. If you face
your worst fears, then you will learn how to manage them, and keep
them from controlling you." Bob interrupted with an edge to his voice.
I felt Mary shudder.

"Careful Bob, we don't want to frighten her too much, now."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Sanderson. I really do want to frighten your daughter
and yourself. This is what I've been trying to tell Mary. Doctors of
Psychology call it 'desensitization conditioning'. I call it facing
your fear."

My heart leapt to my throat at Bob's possible meaning. "Excuse me,
mister, but there's no way you're going to subject Mary to your
'skills'!" I nearly leapt out of the chair and spilled Mary on the
carpet. If she hadn't been sitting with me, I might have drove Bob out
of the house. I will forever regret I did not.

"You're a BAD man!" Mary exclaimed. We are very close, her and I. She
spoke my true meaning for me.

"Yes, I am, Mary. Ms. Sanderson, please, let me explain. I wouldn't
harm little Mary for the world. I promise you. That's not what I'm
suggesting."

Suddenly, I felt foolish. Embarrassed that I had nearly claimed Bob
wanted only to rape my dear daughter. I told myself I should be so
suspicious.

"Please, Mrs. Sanderson. If you have any suspicions, ask me to leave
now. I haven't even begun, and later,..." Bob dropped his pleasant
manner and aimed a faintly threatening expression at me. "If we have
to go very far in my training course, there will be worse things to
suspect."

I missed entirely the fact that he had begun to call me Mrs. instead
of Ms.

--------------- 3 -----------------

"Mommy, I want to go back and play. I don't like him."

I hugged Mary, steeling myself for worse things to come. I was
suddenly very afraid, for her. "You will have to trust Mr. Bob, honey.
He knows what is best for us." I'm not sure why I said that, but but
at that moment it felt truer than what I had previously expressed.

"Thank you." The older man's eyes softened. "Mary," He moved his
focus. "I don't want to be a bad man anymore. I need help though. I
need your help and your mother's help. And in exchange, I'll give you
something as precious as life. Does that sound like something you
would be willing to trade with me?"

Mary looked up at me, not exactly sure what he was talking about.

"He means, he'll help us protect ourselves, our lives." I smiled,
hoping to erase the suspicions I had just instilled in her."

"I want to protect you, mommy." She spoke earnestly.

"And your mommy want's to protect you. I want to teach you both how
you can survive the worst of bad men." Bob continued. "If I do that,
then I'll become a good man." He let it rest at that.

It was a ridiculous situation. Two adults waited for a child to
decided something  only adults are barely qualified to decide. I
honestly think, if Mary had declined, I would have asked Bob to leave.
I tell myself these lies daily.

"Okay," Mary nearly pouted. She just wanted to play with her dolly. "I
guess so."

"Fine." Bob said succinctly.

He stood up in my living room and unzipped his trousers.

I did jump up then, and Mary leapt deftly to her feet. "How DARE you!
Get out of this house INSTANTLY!"

Bob stood his ground. He rested his arms at his sides.

I repeated my demand.

He waited quietly.

Mary ran behind the lounge chair.

"There, Mrs. Sanderson. Do you see her?" He pointed behind me. "You
caused that. I didn't."

"What are you talking about? You come in here with a load of horseshit
and start to expose yourself."

"Exactly, and you exploded with fury, from trust to hate in five
seconds." He began to glare at me again. "Don't you see? You're
expressing your fear, and at the same time you're teaching your
daughter that same fear. When what you need to teach her is to laugh."

The absurd end to his retort paused me. My brain started thinking
again, instead of blindly reacting.

"I did nothing much more than adjust my pants, and already this house
is in a panic."

True, his trousers' zipper teeth had barely even separated

"I-I.." I began, stopped, looked behind me at Mary. She wasn't even
all that frightened of Bob, she was more frightened by my reaction.

Still, I wasn't ready to fall in line behind Bob so easily. My dander
takes more than a couple moments to lay down. "I thought you said that
Sally's problem was that she wasn't afraid of you." I was sure I'd
test him with that bit of logic.

"She had innocent trust. For her, fear would have been a good first
step, but she was much younger than Mary here. Mary already knows to
be careful around strangers, but as her fear grows, as no doubt our
national pastime of frightening ourselves is bound to promote,  then
it will posses her at the wrong moment, and she will be lost to it
first and potential assailants second. Notice how quickly fear
possessed you."

I returned to stuttering. Bob was right. I had nearly reached for his
throat.

"Now Mrs. Sanderson, please, we have fallen off track. I need you to
help correct our course. Poor Mary there needs your reassurance. I
need you to apologize for your behavior." That said. He zipped his
pant back up.

I didn't want to apologize, especially in front of my daughter. How
can a daughter ever respect a mother who doesn't stand up for herself?
I felt justified in my outburst, but as I considered it, honestly
examining my motives, guilt welled up in my breast.

I turned to my Mary. "Honey, it's going to be okay. I think I
understand a little bit better about how difficult this is going to
be. I didn't mean to frighten you. Your poor old mom just isn't use to
this sort of thing. Too many people told me to be careful and be
afraid. They never told me how exactly that helps in a crisis. Today,
we have to learn our other options. Watch your mommy, now." I faced
Bob and squared my shoulders like a soldier at attention before his
sergeant. "I'm sorry Bob. I reacted before I considered if your
actions might be appropriate. I didn't trust you. I will from now on."
I peeked back at Mary. She pressed her lips together and thrust them
to one side, not convinced.

"That was well said, Mrs. Sanderson. I accept your apology. For
myself, I did act hastily, but it was with the best of intentions." He
examined my daughter's expression. "However, I'm not sure a more
concrete example might not be required. Would you be willing to show
your daughter that you merely misjudged me?"

"I would, but what can I do?"

"This will test your faith in me, even harder, but you would step over
here and unzip my pants all by yourself."

My expression of revulsion could not be kept off my face, but to my
credit I didn't yell again. I didn't say anything.

"That would show your daughter that my original act was not a threat,
and at the same time, it would give you a chance to face your own
fear. I only ask that you unzip me, nothing more. I'll zip it right
back up myself."

I knew Mary was now keenly interested in my response. I didn't have to
look at her. I felt flush, not quite embarrassed, but hot under my
collar. Who was in charge here? That was Mary's principle concern. It
should have been mine.

"See, Mary, as old and set in her ways as your mother is, even I can
learn new tricks." Bob did promise to zip himself back up. I took
three casual steps, the first faltered only slightly, closer to Bob
and reached out for his zipper tongue.

Bob acted passive and unemotional, if a little self-righteous. I held
the top of his trousers as I slid the zipper down, all the way to base
of his groin area. This time the zipper teeth parted a bit farther.
Something behind it must have repositioned or expanded since his first
unzipping. I could see the bulge behind it, pushing out white cotton
through the zipper gap.

That did alarm me, and I almost said something, but true to his word,
Bob zipped himself right back up after three or four seconds of my
worrying over the state of his penis. Then he and I looked to Mary for
her reaction. She stepped out from behind the lounge chair, but lifted
her dolly to her chest and nuzzled it's yarn hair.

"See," Bob explained plainly to she and I, "all that fuss over a
little zipper. It doesn't mean anything.  Men often forget to zip
themselves back up after using the restroom. No big deal. Mary, would
you like to try it?"

"Now wait just a minute..." I shook a finger at him. "That's a far cry
from a simple memory lapse." To my own credit, I didn't explode at the
notion, but I was firm.

"Yes, it is. We've done very well since your last outburst. You've
already established a personal basis for thinking first and then
acting, and Mary now realizes that the things we do today may be scary
but is for all of our own good. I'd say it's time to take the next
step towards desensitization, don't you?" Bob remained congenial
despite my attempt to rankle him. I could see, once more, the deep
concern for Mary's and my own safety in his eyes. Although, he was
quite ready to push us beyond our limits to achieve it. Deep blue
irises glinted ice cold.

"And just what will be learned by having Mary unzip your pants?" I
asked moderately sarcastically.

"Mrs. Sanderson, you're already learning the depth of your fears for
Mary. They can be just a disabling as your own personal fear. Mary
here, is still timid about my pants, and unzipping me by herself will
be a fitting conclusion to her remaining concerns. Let her put them to
rest."

Although troubled, I chose to give him the benefit of my doubts, and I
stepped back, making space for my daughter to join us up close.

Mary did not rush to Bob's zipper. She stood still and hugged her
dolly harder, a plea in her eyes sought her mother's mercy. The poor
dear just wanted to play with her dolls. I betrayed her.

"It's okay, honey. Mr. Bob won't even touch you. It'll take you only a
second." I promised her and warned Bob at the same time.

It took her longer than a second. She did come forward and tried
unsuccessfully, holding her dolly in one hand, to unzip his pants with
the other. I nearly choked. My mind filled with images of her pulling
uselessly, repeatedly, on the zipper tongue while pressing her
clenched hand into his hardening prick! I reached immediately to Bob's
waistband and secured it. His zipper was unleashed immediately, and a
thick blob of underpants pushed right out!

I grabbed Mary's hand and pulled her close to me.

"Ow!" Mary cried as I jerked on her arm. Her eyes were taking in all
the wonders of what had unfurled as a result of her own manipulations.

"You zip that back, all right?" I didn't yell, but I was adamant.

I witnessed Bob trying to hold back a snicker. He nodded. "Yes, of
course, Mrs. Sanderson. I'd be happy to, unless..."

"There'll be no unless about it."

"I only wanted to ask you to examine your reaction." He said calmly.

"There's nothing wrong with my reaction." The cotton blob remained
partially escaping Bob's trousers.

"Except, perhaps, how it's affecting your daughter."

I looked down. Mary's innocent fright had returned. She was waiting
for me to do something.

"Is that really, the way you'd want her to react, paralyzed in the
face of your renewed hysteria."

Now, 'hysteria', was the last thing I would have called it, but he'd
made his point.

I looked at my poor, dear child with an audible sigh. "I'm sorry
honey. I'm just a little jumpy today."

"That's much better. If you don't let your fear dictate your actions,
you can remain free to choose the right ones."

"Mommy, are you afraid?"

"Uh, no honey. I'm just a bit confused." This was the truest thing I'd
said all day. "Are you still afraid of Mr. Bob?"

"Un-uh, unless you are."

"We have to try our best not to be." Once more, I steeled myself to
get past these tests. I prayed the continued presence of Bob's
underwear, pushed out by his growing member, would ease it's grip on
me.

"There we are, all settled again. Mary you and your mother are doing
just fine. I'm surprised how far we've come in less than half an hour.
Maybe we should take a break."

I welcomed Bob's suggestion by relaxing all the fierce tension in my
shoulders. "I'll fix us some tea and cookies. Mary come with me." As
proud as I was with my 'accomplishment' I wasn't about to leave Mary
alone with this convict.

We consumed our snack in relatively polite conversation. It was a bit
too polite, having to avoid the distracting contrast of white cotton
exposed between dark gray polyester. I caught Mary glancing at it
repeatedly. I was reminded that she'd probably never thought about
what a man might own between his legs. I know I blushed several times
and tried to compensate.

"It's a bit warm in here. We don't have air conditioning - usually the
weather is mild this time of year. It doesn't normally get hot except
for a few weeks out of the year."

"Yes ma-am. It's probably not worth the expense. A few fans around the
house should get you through the worst." Bob had returned to his full
politeness, however polite one can be with the thick shaft of a man's
sex concealed only by an elastic weave. Bob hadn't moved from the
couch except for standing up during his series of unzippings. Mary and
I remained against the opposite wall, sharing the lounge chair.

With the last crumbs and driblets of tea remaining, I began to fear
the course ahead of us. I immediately chastised myself for letting my
fear lead me, but Bob had no compunction to forge ahead.

"Mrs. Sanderson, what have you told your daughter about sex?"

I gulped and tried to respond in an emotionally neutral tone. "We've
talked about female genitalia, and we read a book together that
explained a woman's period." I tried to smile at Mary as to reassure
her this was an okay subject, but I remembered she had been quite
bored at the time. She took to twirling her finger in her dolly's
hair.

"Have you used strong words in front of her?"

"Strong? You mean curse words?" I dared to ask.

"Most of them are used for cursing, but I mean the really nasty ones,
the words some lovers use at the height of passion, when technical
terms are ridiculous. Has Mary heard many of them?"

"Of course not, I wouldn't allow such..."

"Mrs. Oldivai called Sam Dutton a 'real prick', last week." Mary
giggled. New words, especially forbidden ones, she found very amusing.

"Do you know what a prick is, Mary?" Bob asked nonchalantly.

I gasped audibly, but held my retort.

"I-it's a bad thing." Mary hemmed and hawed.

"Not really. A prick is a cock is a dick, is a penis, is a whole slew
of words that all mean a man's sex organ. What you call it isn't
important, but some men use these words to frighten women and
children. They think its a turn on for them and a real shocker for
their victim."

I had wanted to interrupt the moment Bob said, 'cock', but he was so
quick on the delivery I soon realized what he was getting at and
decided he might be right about a molester's use of words as weapons.

"You see Mary, all those words are a lot of bluster and brag. The
louder and dirtier a man talks means only one thing, he's got a sex
organ so small he couldn't do needlepoint with it.

I laughed then, surprising everyone, including myself. Mary giggled
again.

"So when you hear a naughty word, what are you going to do?"

Mary continued to giggle.

"That's right." Bob winked at me.

"YOUSTUPIDFUCKINGCUNTSGETYOURASSESONTHEFLOORRIGHTNOWANDPULLUPYOURSKIRTSANDSHOWMEYOURDIRTYPUSSIES!I'MGOINGTOSHOVEMYFATCOCKINYOURCUNTSANDFUCKYOUDEAFANDBLINDANDBLASTMYSPERMINTOYOURBELLIESANDKNOCKYOUUPWITHMYBABY!!"
Bob suddenly shouted.

I reeled back in the lounge chair and screeched. I grabbed my child
and was about to drag her out of danger, but when I saw Mary laughing
aloud and hard, I instantly felt more foolish than I had all day.

"Got you." Bob smiled.

My grip released Mary, and she dropped to the floor and rolled. She
soon began to have trouble breathing. "HA, gotcha mommy!" She gasped
for air, not minding the lack of it.

Bob stood up and assumed a grimace. "YOU DIDN'T HEAR ME THE FIRST
TIME, BITCH. I'M GOING TO FUCK YOU UP, AND THEN I'M GOING TO RAPE YOUR
BABY'S ASS AND POUR MY CUM IN HER HAIRLESS SLIT WHILE YOU WATCH,
UNABLE TO DO ANYTHING!"

"Bob, that's enough. I get it, already." I swallowed nervously.

Mary was breathing heavily now, catching her breath. She afforded
another, brief giggle, but she was watching me, wondering if there was
something she should be concerned about.

"That's pretty good. But you're not over foul language yet." Bob
stepped closer. He displayed his hands to me as a very open signal,
and then he slowly reached to my shoulders and gripped them lightly.

"Your little baby bitch is just another virgin cum slut waiting for my
cock to release her cravings for hard dick fucked into her mouth,
cunt, and ass."

"Bob, you're really beginning to frighten me." He could see my eyes
grow wide, not from his own intense stare, but at his underwear, now
pushed out several inches from the toothy gap in his trousers.

"I know." He released my shoulders and backed away to the center of
the room. "Keep working on that."

"C-could you at least zip yourself back up? Aren't we past that
lesson?"

"Are we?" He asked softly and tilted his head. Then he looked at Mary.
"Are you?"

Mary had quieted considerably. She hadn't let the sight of his
increased white bulge escape her notice either. One corner of her
closed lips turned upward as she looked at me. She simply shook her
head.

"I thought not." Bob decided. He took a deep breath and straightened
as if to stretch, but he didn't lift his arms over his head. The
cotton swelling pushed out further. The warmth in my chest seemed
harder to expel when I exhaled. I felt other strange hints of feelings
too, feelings not appropriate to have towards sex criminals.

--------------- 4 -----------------

"What's next, Mr. Bob?" Mary asked lightheartedly. When I looked at
her, I noticed she'd dropped her dolly.

"We'll, there are a lot of things we still have to learn. But it
sounds like you're ready to tackle the nudity taboo."

"Bob, I don't think I'll allow any nakedness today. I've begun to
understand what you're trying to do, and yes nudity can be a very
shocking experience, but I think I should teach that to Mary
privately."

"Believe me, Mrs. Sanderson, when I say, respectfully, you don't know
anything about what I'm trying to do." He retorted dryly.

"I'd say you're not being respectful whatsoever." I countered,
uncomfortable with Bob's demeanor.

"Perhaps, but I warned you my methods are direct and uncompromising."

"And I reserved the right to question and veto anything."

Bob gave me another of his 'you're in charge' grins and said, "Mary,
does your mommy keep a naked man in her closet?"

Mary, predictably, giggled.

"I can show her pictures and even movies if I have to."

"Sure you can, Mrs. Sanderson, but can your movies chase you around
the house and tie you up and yell and scream at you?"

"No one will be doing any of those things in this house, naked or
fully clothed in a suit of armor!" I exclaimed.

"You see, you really don't know my methods and could never teach your
child to overcome those realities. I guess it really doesn't matter.
What are the odds of being assaulted anyway? I believe the best
estimates are one in three. Let us be optimistic and say 1 quarter of
all females are molested before adulthood. Those are very good odds...
if you live in Las Vegas, and money is all that you hold dear.

"Most girls are violated by close friends or members of their own
family, usually step members or kin from their extended family. But if
her four-sided die rolls a '1', it's likely Mary won't have time to
run or a good reason to. Once a girl trusts someone, she's more likely
to acquiesce and forgive, until the violation is repeated, and by then
it's too late, because it's easier to blame the girl."

Bob pretended to sound like a stuffy grandmother. "Why didn't she
complain earlier? Did anything happen at all? Perhaps she started it
all. I don't know why you let her wear those revealing clothes. Does
she think teasing is just a harmless game? Well, I think she must be
lying or a stupid little slut!" Bob raced to the end of his monologue
and spit his last 't'.

My mouth felt dry, and I had trouble gulping to moisten my throat. His
words choked me. With every sentence I saw my Mary prodded, probed,
and pressured into loosing her innocence, raped, and finally discarded
as trash. For the first time I felt helpless to stop fate from taking
my little girl away from me, from assaulting her body and ravaging her
sweet soul. I needed someone. I needed Bob. His eyes held little
mercy, but they offered hope in his strength. Bob was strong. He had
to be to have done all those terrible things to so many little girls.
I had to decide once and for all if I dared trust him to use his
strength to help us.

"M-mary," Tears formed in my eyes. "I love you so much." I reached for
my girl and kneeled down to hug her. She began to sniffle in sympathy
and hugged me back.

"I love you too, mommy. Do I have to get naked now?"

My heart sank into my stomach. "Is that what Bob wants?" I capitulated
completely.

"No, Mrs. S. I think you should begin." Bob remained authoritative. I
was no longer worthy of being called Mrs. Sanderson.

There it was. I had doomed myself long before this moment, but I
sensed my doom for the first time. I believed my problem was the
events occurring in my home, at the hands of a certified pedophile,
were so surreal, I couldn't imagine them ever becoming real. Only
later did I find out what my actual problem was. How could any
dedicated mother fall under the spell of a pervert con-artist? I kept
telling myself it's like a marathon with many walls to hit, and by the
end, regardless of how it ends, I'll have saved my home.

"Bob, please close the curtain." I asked him. I don't know what I
would have done if he hadn't.

"Yes, Mrs. S. Of course." He covered the window with drapes, while I
began to undrape my body.

I have a healthy body. I'm a bit overweight to be a supermodel, but
most of my extra pounds stick to my hips and breasts. My husband
preferred buying airbrushed cocaine addicts to compliment his wife's
body, but I remained proud of it. Our marriage never did take. He
found his job more interesting in the long run, and I found Mary far
more loving. He got his tax breaks. I got to fulfill my maternal
longings.

Mary has seen me naked before, but I've never undressed right in front
of her. Her views had always before been brief peeks around a corner
or through an open door.

I turned my back to Bob because I didn't want to see him watch me
undress. I told myself, this way I could face a very real fear of
turning my naked back to a proven criminal. I pulled my top over my
head and dropped it into the plush chair seat. I reached for my skirt
and untied it's side string. Thank god I didn't hear heavy breathing
behind me. I did glance at Mary to see if she noticed anything
alarming about Bob's behavior. She kept her eyes peeled on me. I
peeled off my skirt and stepped out of it. I couldn't bring myself to
lean down and pick it up. I wear comfortable but brief panties. I was
already showing too much of my ass.

I had less trouble with my bra straps than I thought I would. The
front catch unlatched easily, and I shrugged my arms out from the
shoulder straps in record time. I didn't think that I was in a hurry.
I wouldn't have believed I had any reason to want to strip for Bob,
other than to help my daughter realize that being naked doesn't mean
being defenseless. Mary gave me pleasant, innocent smiles throughout
my disrobing. They were wonderful at distracting me from imagining
Bob's reactions behind me.

"You don't have to turn around." Bob offered. "Little Mary doesn't
seem at all worried about having a stranger watch you undress. It's
her reaction that matters most, and then your own."

My daughter smiled at him. "You're not a stranger, Mr. Bob."

"Yes I am, Mary. Don't ever think otherwise. We don't want you to
learn to trust strangers. Most of them are very nice people, but there
are enough dangerous ones. You should always act safe around them."

Bob's words won a lot more trust from me. No one had yet mentioned
that I was stalling from taking off my panties. I began to peel them
down my thighs. Thank heaven's I wasn't wearing a pad or tampon! I
would have died from embarrassment.

"Bob, please tell again how this lesson is going to empower us."

"Well, normally, there's a lot of taboos associated with nudity, but I
can see in this case, you and your daughter do not subscribe to such
foolishness. You can be very proud."

"My mommy's prettier than any lady, anywhere!" Mary proclaimed
enthusiastically.

"And I'll bet you're even prettier than her." Bob cooed
uncharacteristically.

I jumped in my skin. Then I nearly hit the ceiling. Mary, so charmed
by Bob's simply polite retort, began to unbutton her dress.
NOOOOOO!!!!, screamed the gray matter inside my skull. Bob read my
mind.

"It'll be all right Mrs. S. If you'd like, I can ask her to stop." The
certified pedophile offered to ask my eager, nine year old to keep her
clothes on.

YESSSS!, my brain reversed all engines. I turned around and stepped
between them, trying desperately to not look like it was a deliberate
act. "You said yourself, we don't seem to have any taboos about
nudity. I-I'd like to think we don't need to put it a full test."

"Hmmm, you may be right." Bob was having trouble maintaining
eye-contact with me. First he scanned the full length of my adult
body. Then his eyes wandered past me. Mary must have begun to reveal
her soft skin. Each unfastened button allowed her dress to part
further and further. Bob may have been trying to reform, but he would
always be human. I suppose I would have done the same if he had
disrobed. I'm not sure that last sentence came out the way I meant.

"What's it going to be? Should we stop and put our clothes back on?" I
prompted to regain his attention.

"Well, truthfully, nudity is just one step to a larger lesson, an
important one. It will be very difficult, but you and your daughter's
ease are a good sign that we can accomplish it quickly." His eyes
continued to have trouble locking on to mine. In most every other way,
Bob remained calm about two females in various states of undress
standing in the same room with him. Except, when my own eyes wandered
to his midsection. There, through the open zipper in his trousers, his
manly bulge had begun to push his underwear's waistband out of the
gap. Suddenly, I felt very naked in front of Bob. I backed away,
almost bumping into my daughter.

"I-I think we may not be ready for the next step after all. Honey, you
can stop undressing. Mommy says it's okay."

"Really, Mrs. S. We were making such good progress. Was your initial
ease just a mask concealing real fear?" Bob's voice grew stern.
"Mary's not at all afraid, but if you continue this course, as her
most powerful role-model, you will instill very harmful fears into
her."

I bit my lip. I tried not to think of the thick shaft of man flesh
growing inside his pants. Damn! I was still thinking about it. I-I...

"Mommy, I like being naked!" Mary announced gleefully.

"Your mommy is very proud of you, Mary," Bob knelt down to kid size
and maintained his distance from her. "But your mother is feeling
extra cautious. Do you know why?"

"Un-uh." I watched my daughter shake her head.

There was something I needed to do. I felt an urgency about her.
Something very real and very wrong was about to occur, but I was still
hung up over my own reaction to being naked around Bob's obvious
erection. Now, right before him, my little girl had revealed all of
her secret charms. My internal quandary between wanting to escape my
fear and respecting my fear as a important warning struggle like a
noise in my head that drowned out any conscious action. My fear of
being afraid had nearly paralyzed me.

Mary's body was still very childlike, but she was taller than most
others her age. She had unblemished pink skin which caught a lot of
sunlight while she played, yet she neither tanned nor burned. Her face
glowed with excitement about our exploration of nudity in front of 'a
stranger'. She had overcome most of her fears after Bob had given her
a nearly painful series of laughs. Mary had no breasts to speak of,
but her nipples had grown darker in recent months. Her legs were still
chubby, but they were already lengthening. Her chub would give her
legs smooth definition by the time she reached puberty. Her waist was
as thick as her hips. Soon they would transform into stark contrast.
For a prepubescent girl, she had a remarkable growth of blond hair
between her legs. It didn't really cover her pubic bulge, but my
daughter might prove to own a very hairy little cunny one day. From my
angle, I couldn't see her baby girl's virginal slit, but I suddenly
realized why Bob had knelt down!

My befuddlement shattered. "What are you doing, looking at my little
girl from down there? I ought to call the police! I'm sure they'd be
happy to put something about this on your parole record."

"Mommy, what's wrong?"

Bob simply grinned and looked up at me. He could have at least
blushed. "I see we'll be fighting your continued suspicions all
afternoon, Mrs. S. This posture is very important, for the next lesson
reveals the meat of this entire exercise, and I must look as least
threatening to little Mary as possible. She is our focus now. We have
to explain to her just what her options are."

"Options?" Mary wondered.

"Yes, my darling pupil, remember what I told you about some strangers,
how they want to hurt little girls like you?" He waited for Mary's
nod. "Well, they may be bigger and stronger and appear so overwhelming
you might think there's nothing you can do to save yourself from
them."

I then understood Bob's crouch and I hoped to earn a pardon for my
illegitimate reaction by chiming in, "Mr. Bob is going to tell you
about the things you can do to protect yourself, honey. Pay extra
attention to him."

"Honestly, Mary, Mrs. S, there isn't anything a girl can do that will
guarantee her safety. In fact, by the time a predator is detected,
it's probably too late."

"WHAT?" I hollered. Mary jumped back. "You mean to tell me we've gone
through all this bullshit just to hear you say there's nothing we can
do?" I was about to order the sick bastard out of my house AND call
the police.

"That's not what I said!" Bob barked right back at me. "Now look at
what you've done to Mary." He stood up and turned his back to us.

I glanced down my long legs and found my daughter's naked arms wrapped
around the left one. I didn't feel her bare chest against my bottom
nor her head pressing into the small of my back until after the
shouting had ended.

"You mean there is something? Why be so negative?"

"Because it's a measure of last resort." Bob looked over his shoulder
at me. "You've already taught your daughter the basics. Stay away from
strangers. Run away if you have to. Scream and bite and claw and kick
if someone tries to hurt you. Keep an eye out for your safety at all
times. Every child and mother ought to know those." He turned back to
face me and my daughter. "I warned you from the start, I offered
unorthodox, unproved methods, but I did promise to save your daughter
from the horrors of men like me, and I swear to accomplish that no
matter what the price. Now, once and for all, will you choose to trust
me or let me take my leave of your insults?"

Insults, was a strong word. I did not deserve it, but Bob had figured
me out from the start. I am far too forgiving of a woman for my own
good. Now, I'll never be able to forgive myself.

"All right!" I shouted again. He kept pissing me off but in a way that
turned my anger inward. I was already naked, standing next to a naked
minor who was my own flesh and blood, and listening to an ID'd sex
offender tell us how to protect ourselves from the likes of him. Who
should have I blamed?

"Damn, why do you have be such a bitch about this?" Bob tested me
again.

"Mr. Bob, you said a bad word." Mary scolded him crossly.

"No Mary, if Bob wants to call me a bitch, then maybe I deserve to be
called a bitch. We have to trust him, remember." My latest effort to
resist Bob's control turned out to be weak sarcasm.

Mary started giggling again.

"This a screwy world, isn't it?" Bob suddenly grinned. "If that keeps
her laughing, then I will do it. So are you ready for the final
stretch, bitch?"

"Sure!" I shot back at him, unwilling to accept the label as a
negative. "What have you got for this bitch?"

Mary burst into full peals of laughter.

Bob drew himself up to a pretentious height. "For my next trick, I'll
need four large scarves, silk if you have them." That earned yet
another outburst from Mary.

"Mary, you know where mother's scarves are. Be a dear and get them." I
told her. The poor thing was going to explode or implode or something
if she kept laughing that hard. She needed a break, and I wanted to
take one final shot at our Child Molestation Survival Trainer.

As soon as my daughter had skipped out of the room and down the hall,
I confronted Mr. Bob.

"You're going to fuck her, aren't you?"

For nearly a second he fell out of his authoritative stature. I caught
a brief glimpse of fight or flight being calculated in the recesses of
his eyes. Then his pure blue irises contracted their pupils to
pinpoints and challenged me right back. His retort was brilliant.

"Bitch, you're going to take my cock and insert it into her gorgeous
little cunny."

I was paralyzed then. All of our so called 'Desensitization
Conditioning' hadn't helped me one lick. Later though, I realized that
it wasn't fear that had paralyzed me. It was something entirely
different. We waited for Mary's return, him calmly, myself as rigid as
a brick.

She ran back with a fist full of bright colors streaming down her arm.
"Here they are mommy, Mr. Bob!"

Bob strode up to her nymph like body and accepted them with a bow and
a 'thank you very kindly.' He selected four sturdy ones, tugged each
one with a snap, and tucked them into his pocket. The pink tipped,
white cotton, bulging next to his pocket, shook with anticipation. The
rest of the scarves floated to the floor, much to Mary's delight.

"We're going to play a little game of make-believe, Mary. This is very
important. So listen carefully."

--------------- 5 -----------------

"Oh goody, make-believe!" Mary bubbled. "I'll try real hard."

"Okay. Now in this game we're going to repeat a lot of what we've
already discussed and pretend with a couple new things, just like we
were reading a story together, but we get to act out the story."

"Uh-huh."

"Remember all those bad words I shouted earlier, trying to make you
afraid?"

"Uh-huh, you even called mommy a bitch, tee-hee!"

"Well, you were very brave and learned to ignore them perfectly. This
time, I'm going to say a lot more than that and a lot louder, but
remember, it's only make-believe."

"Can I say them too?" Mary asked anxiously.

"No you can't. You have be the good little girl. Good little girls
don't say bad words." Bob told her rather firmly.

"Oh, pooh!"

"But the good little girl in our story will be the hero."

"Oh, Yea! I want to be the hero!"

"Good. I think you'll make a wonderful hero. Next, remember how I
tried to make you and your mom feel helpless by telling you to take
off your clothes?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well this time, I'm going to take off my clothes while we pretend,
and you have to promise me you won't get mad."

"Oh no, Mr. Bob, I wouldn't ever." Mary's voice dipped to a more
serious pitch. "Mommy, are you going to get mad again?" My child
looked up at me.

The first words spoken to me since her return should have startled me
out of my dread coma. Instead, my fear of looking like I was petrified
helpless broke the mood that gripped me.

"N-no honey. I-I would never let Bob hurt you."

"Huh?" Mary lost her smile.

"Bob, what do I have to do in this make-believe story?" I felt like I
had been hypnotized or was magically controlled by a secret device in
his pocket. The second cliché proved closest to the truth.

"You get to pretend to be a bitch." Bob chuckled.

Mary lost it again. I brushed a small tear from my eye. It was not a
tear of mirth.

"Seriously, here's what's going to happen. Mary, I want you to go to
your room and play with your dollies. Your mom is going to pretend to
open the door and let a stranger in your house. I am going to pretend
to be a very, very nasty stranger. Do you understand so far?"

"But I don't want to be in my room when you pretend with mommy."

"You can come out of your room any time after your mommy has pretended
to let me in. Okay?"

"Oh, okay." That was fine with her.

"Now here's how you get to be the hero. You see, when I pretend to be
a bad man, I'm going to pretend to threaten your mommy terribly. I'm
going to chase her around the house and tie her up. Do you remember
what I said to do to protect yourself?"

Mary seemed suddenly confused. "You said there wasn't anything we can
do."

"I didn't say that exactly. There is something you can do, and only
you can do it. Remember, your mommy won't be able to do anything being
all tied up."

"What Bob, what is it that I can do?" Mary begged to know.

"Now that's the hard part. This is a very difficult game, but I know
you can figure it out. You're a very clever little girl, cute too."
Bob smiled.

Out of the blue haze that held me, I found myself bolstering Bob's
lies. "You have to figure it by yourself. That's the only way to learn
this lesson."

My outburst surprised the unflappable Bob. "Damn, your mommy's really
smart. Are you ready to begin?"

Mary simply nodded and rushed towards her room. She snatched up the
fancy rag doll and raced away with it. Bob turned to me, grinning. It
was a grin that would have made a grinch grimace.

"I think it's time I've come clean with you." He told me. He untied
his shoes and kicked them off his feet.

I was a different person then, not a second personality, but a life
forgotten in my past who had finally escaped its mainstream, housewife
prison. I was no longer afraid of Bob, and I never would be again, I
found myself telling myself.

"Yes, you can begin with how you're going to chase me around this
house if I don't want you to."

"You'll want me to." Bob unbuttoned his suit coat and pulled his arms
out of it's sleeves. He dropped the coat to the floor and started on
his shirt buttons. "You see, I've been carefully researching you for
many years."

"You told me you were in prison." My foot began tapping the floor
nervously.

"I was. It's an excellent place to do research, quiet and very
focusing. I wasn't researching you, per se, but the kind of woman you
are." He reached behind his head, grabbed his collar, and pulled his
shirt off his back.

"And what kind of woman do you think I am?" One of my eyelids twitched
involuntarily.

"The kind of woman who'll do anything to kept her sons and daughters
safe from men like me."

"Any woman worth her womb should be like that."

"Except you're special." He unclasped his belt buckle and unbuttoned
the single round stone holding his gray pants around his waist. Belt,
buckle, and trousers fell to the floor in a heap. The heavy head of
his turgid cock pressed up and over the lip of his white briefs.

"Oh, I am, am I?" I began to swallow the copious amounts of saliva
pouring into my mouth.

"You're the one woman I can count on to help me deflower every one of
your daughter's virginal holes."

"Mommy have you let the bad man in yet?" Mary hollered from her room.

I yelled back at her. "Almost, honey. Just one more second." I
searched Bob's steel eyes for the reason they continued to confound
me. "A-A-And why is that?" My hands began to rapidly comb through my
hair.

"Because you already know, it's the greatest gift you can give her."
His fingers reached into his briefs, and in one motion, tugged them
down to his knees. I saw his cock for the first time. I turned and ran
screaming down the hall.

It took Bob another three seconds to get his feet out of his
underwear. By then I had reached the kitchen phone and was pressing
911 as fast as I could. His pounding chase sounded right around the
kitchen archway at the same time I realized the phone was dead.

"You STUPID CUNT! You thought I was just a fucking AMATEUR? I've
covered every option. When I say you'll run. You won't stop until I
harpoon you with my cock!" He chased me around the kitchen table, and
I led him back into the hall. I didn't have time to open the back
door.

"MARY, GET OUT OF THE HOUSE RIGHT NOW, AND RUN AWAY AS FAST AS YOU
CAN!"

"But mommy, I have to be the hero."

"THAT-THAT IS HOW YOU GET..." Bob tackled me from behind, and I fell
against the living room carpet. It burned my bare skin as we slid
across it.

"That's right bitch. Accept your fate. I'm going to knock your womb
into the reincarnation warehouse." He gloated.

I heaved my weight around as hard as I could and struck his face with
my elbow. It stunned him just enough to allow me to my feet and head
for Mary's room. Just then, she popped out, all smiling and laughing.
I nearly collided with her. "RUN MARY RUN!" I screamed. She fled
merrily down the hall into her parent's bedroom. "LOCK THE DOOR, FOR
GOD'S SAKE!" I pleaded. That stupid lock wouldn't last five seconds
under Bob's attack, but it might give her enough time to get the
window open.

I ran back into the kitchen. "CLIMB OUT THE WINDOW AND RUN AWAY! DON'T
ARGUE WITH YOUR MOTHER!" This time I tried for the back door.

Out of nowhere, Bob leaped across the table and hurled me against the
counter. Before I could wrench free again, he grabbed my arm and
locked it's major joint behind me. With my stolen arm, he drove me
down to my knees. I could smell his sweating balls, but for some
reason, I couldn't actually see his cock. I mean I could see it, but
my memory refused to integrate the sight of it into my brain. Oh hell,
I don't know what I mean. All I know is I was screaming in pain and
his pungent cock kept smacking across my face. Or was it his hand?

"Shut up. Shut up, you stupid bitch!" Bob must have practiced his
technique for pulling a scarf out of his pocket and holding a pair of
wrists across themselves behind my back, with the other. In my
psychological daze, I couldn't coordinate my hands enough to resist
him. He wrapped the scarf around my wrists and tied them in a flash.
He took more time binding my feet to the sturdy, steel oven feet. I
prayed Mary had found her way out of the house and was running for
help. I prayed a second time that no one would grab my beautiful,
naked daughter and steal her away for ever.

Bob shoved his underpants into my mouth and tied it securely inside
with his last scarf.

Mary walked up behind him, eyes as wide as saucers. "Wow, you did that
really fast, Mr. Bob."

"There you are, you little cunt." He spun around and tickled her naked
sides.

Mary screeched and ran away. Bob followed her out the door, leaving
me, a woman entirely destitute of wisdom, alone with her personal
torturers.

I heard, "You can't catch me! HA-HA!"

"Little fucking runt of a cunt, I'm going to ram my big prick into you
until every hole is twice as big as they are now."

It's was Bob's personal style of foreplay. I wept.

They raced back and forth beyond the kitchen door until Bob simply
grew bored of the chase. He reentered the kitchen and walked up to me.
He peered down in triumph.

"Now here's where you ask, if you could ask, how am I going to get you
to put my fuck tool inside your precious, baby girl's little cunny?"

I could only glare at him. He'd never get me to do that in a million
years.

Bob smiled and knelt between my legs. He reached a finger into my
adult snatch and drilled it easily to his farthest knuckle. My body
shook, and I felt something awful. He pulled out his finger right away
and showed it to me. It glistened with hot slime.

I was surprised by how wet I was. Up until that point, I hadn't felt
the slightest bit turned on. No woman, outside of a porno fantasy,
gets off or even aroused in the face of a real rape. It wasn't
possible. I didn't feel horny, but when his finger entered me and
brushed against my clit, my body had nearly climaxed from the
sensation. My attention moved to my groin, and suddenly I knew my body
was more than ready for any penetration that might find my cunt. I now
stared obviously at his cock. Yet for some crazy reason, I can't
actually describe it.

"That's how." He smiled again and licked his finger. "Hmm, a little
harsh for my tastes. This soup has been cooking too long."

"Mary," he yelled in no particular direction. "Are you ready to become
a hero?"

"Don't you want to catch me first?" Mary yelled back.

"Oh, I've already caught you my beautiful little darling." He said
softly. He looked intently at my pussy. "You do have beautiful tits,
bitch." And then, without taking his eyes off of my cunt, he grabbed
my breasts and mashed them and pinched my erect nipples. "As much as I
love little girls, they can't supply a man's every need." Bob pressed
his cock between my ample tits and slowly fucked them.

Through all of his grabbing and mashing and pinching and fucking, I
wasn't able to muster even the will to fight him. I had lost. Soon the
most precious thing I had on this earth would be lost too.

"Whatcha doing with mommy, Mr. Bob?" Mary had bored of a languishing
chase.

"I'm doing a very bad thing." He explained.

"You're just pretending."

"But if I keep pretending, eventually, I'll really hurt your mother.
That's why you have to be the hero and save her."

"Oh, but how am I going to stop you?" Mary tried to physically tug Bob
off of me.

"Perhaps your mother can tell you."

"But you tied up her mouth."

"Hey bitch," This sparked a lesser giggle. "Do you like what I'm doing
to you?" His cock was already spitting pre-cum into my cleavage,
smoothing the way for continued raping. My tits basked in the
attention, nipples hardening. First he had been rough, but now his
sliding prick seemed to soothe away those first pinches and clenches.

I shook my head.

"You see, Mary. It's real bad for her." Bob looked over his shoulder.
"Don't you think it would be bad if I did the same thing to you?"

"B-but I don't have what my mommy has on her front."

"Bless you, sweetheart." He turned back to me. "Bitch, would you like
me to do this to her?"

I fought him then, and shook my head wildly. He struck me, and I
collapsed back to the linoleum.

"I don't think your mommy would like that at all."

"You hurt my mommy for real, Mr. Bob." Mary began to pout.

"Nah, your mom's just pretending too." He smirked. Then Bob asked me
earnestly, "Would you rather have me doing this to you, than me doing
it to your daughter."

I still feel guilty for hesitating before nodding my answer.

"See, Mary, she's just pretending."

"Oh. I see." Mary's tone hinted at a very adult inspiration.

"What do you see, little Mary?"

"I can protect my Mommy. I can!"

"Really, you must tell me, my luscious darling." Bob pumped his prick
harder between my tits, and his hands pressed them together painfully.

"If I let you do that to me, then you can't do that to her!" Mary
exclaimed.

"NOOOOOOOO!" I shouted into my gag. I thrashed wildly, desperately,
but Bob was too heavy, and he released my tits to control my wrenching
shoulders. His time between my tits had served its purpose.

"Ohhh, but I don't have anything but these small nipples." Mary
pinched her tiny aureolas in disappointment.

"That's okay, Mary. I've already stopped doing that to your mommy.
What's important, and your mommy and I are so proud of you, is that
you did figure out how to protect her. I told you you are really,
really smart." Bob shifted his weight and pulled himself down my
torso. He lined his indescribable cock up with my hairy cunt and
leaned back to show his new position to my daughter. To control me, he
pushed his fists up, under my rib cage until I couldn't breathe. I was
having trouble enough trying to breath with his foul gag in my mouth,
but I nearly passed out. I couldn't fight him any longer.

"See this, Mary?" Bob pushed his cocked against my seeping slit. "I'm
just about to rape your mother. You must already know that rape is a
terrible, awful thing. I'm going to fuck your mother against her will,
unless you stop me."

"I-I don't know Mr. Bob. That doesn't look like pretending to me." My
daughter was a pretty smart girl.

"You're right, sweet child. But what matters is, are you going to
protect your mother from nasty old me?" Bob slid is engorged cock into
my creaming pussy. He slowly began to fuck me. My body responded
without my consent, hips hunching slightly back against his pushes
into me.

Mary caught a solid wrench of fear, right then. I could see it in her
eyes. They began to tear up. But Bob's lessons had not been lost on
her. "Oh-okay, Mr. Bob. P-please do that to me. I-I don't want you to
do that to my mommy."

"Remember, Mary, this is just make believe." Bob pulled his wet cock
from my cunt and stood up. He turned away from me, leaving my tempted
pussy to stew in sorrow. I was crying freely. I couldn't fight him
anymore, I was bound securely, exhausted, pressed by physical and
mental agony, and my cunt was burning for his cock. He was about to
rape my only child right in front of me, and I was worse than
helpless.
 
--------------- 6 -----------------

Mary lay her naked body down upon the cold floor. She aimed her
dainty, slightly hairy cunny at Bob and spread her legs, mimicking how
my legs were spread and tied to the oven. Bob kneeled before her,
almost praying to God for what he was about to receive. His prick
couldn't have been more eager to be stuffed into the virginal, little
slit of my beautiful daughter's blond cooze.

"You have a lot of hair there, for a little girl." Bob was free to
notice her youth's oddity openly. "But not too much."

"You don't like it?" Mary asked, strangely wondering if she should be
offended.

"But I do, Mary. You have a perfect little cunny. Even your shock of
hair is just right. Take a look at your mommy." Bob's eyes led my
daughter's. "See how she has a thick bush of hair?"

"Uh-huh."

"That's too much for me. I like it like yours, just enough, like a
fine brush. That's exactly what your wonderful hair is, an artist's
paint brush pointing right at her latest masterpiece. I love your
little, blond brush."

"Really? My girlfriend said I was too young to have hair already."

"She was jealous, Mary. In fact, I like it so much, you can call me
your brush man."

Mary giggled again, but the she stopped it short and looked very
grave. "But I shouldn't. I have to call you Mr. Bob, because you are a
bad stranger and you're going to rape me instead of my mommy."

"No Mary, I promised you we're just pretending, and that's was we're
going to do. I wouldn't rape you if you were my own daughter."

I'm not exactly sure what he meant by that either.

"Oh, then are we done?" Mary's mood lightened.

"No Mary. You and you're mother have a lot more to learn."

Our 'pretend' rapist turned to me. "You know what I want to do with
your daughter, don't you."

I nodded, unable to stop my tears.

"Here's your chance to save her. Do you remember what I told you about
how you would be involved in that?"

Reminded again that he swore that I would be the one to put his cock
in my daughter's holes, I answered him with the fiercest glare I could
muster.

"Charming." Bob's smile was like crow-song, a grating caw in my head.
"Here's your one chance to save her from that fate. If you help me put
my prick in your daughter's mouth, I promise I'll fuck you instead of
her."

My cunt lurched at the very notion. I wanted to scream. I continued to
glare, but my head began to nod slowly. I was so ashamed, I was sure
Bob wouldn't keep his promise, but it was my only chance. I had to
accept.

"Mary, go stand beside your mother and untie her hands." Bob also
stood and moved to where he could monitor my unbinding and act if I
tried anything stupid. I didn't.

I rubbed the soreness in my wrists. They were red and dotted with
lint. I considered pulling off my gag and spitting out his nauseating
underwear. But before I could have yelled, he would have easily
grabbed my mouth, if not bash my head.

"Why did you have to tie my mommy's mouth? Can't I untie it too?" Mary
wondered mercifully.

"I'm sorry I had to do that, honey, but your mommy loves you too much
to always be pretending. Remember how she would holler at me, even
when she had promised to trust me?"

"Yeah. You shouldn't have done that mommy. I have to learn as much as
I can, to protect you."

"That's right child. Now are you ready for the next lesson?"

"I guess so." Mary seemed to have lost her enthusiasm.

"You already know that rape is when a man OR a woman forces another
person to have sex with them."

"Yeah."

"But did you know that if that other person agrees to have sex with
you, then it's not rape at all?"

"I guess so."

"Okay, you're doing great!" Bob tried to cheer her. "What we are going
to do is pretend that I'm going to rape your mouth, but because your
mother is going to put my dick between your lips, then it isn't really
rape. Remember, I told you you had to pretend to be a good little
girl, and good little girls should never disagree with something your
mother wants to feed you."

Mary looked puzzled to a standstill, trying to figure out exactly what
Bob had just said.

"It'll be okay if you just trust me. You promised to trust me, right?"

"Yeah, okay." With that Mary opened her mouth.

Bob aimed his prick at her waiting hole, but he looked at me, fully
expecting that I wouldn't dream of putting his cock between her lips
after he'd said that.

"Bitch, if you don't do this..." He threatened without filling in the
details. "Isn't it better to let her accept me willingly, than the
alternative?"

Truth spoke in his words. Mary WAS willing to receive his cock in her
mouth. He had left it up to me to decide if she should be raped or
taken without violence. It was a devil's offering. Humiliated, I took
his cock in my hand and led it into my young child's mouth.

"That feels so good, Mary. Your mouth is wet and warm. It makes my
cock tingle with pleasure. Thank you so much!" Bob leaned reached down
to me and retied my hands, this time in front of me.

"Mmnnrr, wlcmmmn, mmmrr mmbbb."

"You have to suck on my cock, honey. That's what good girls do, when
they have to save some one they love."

To my eternal horror,  I witnessed my baby's lips tighten around Bob's
cock shaft from her sucking.

"I want you suck it and lick it at the same time, while I push it in
just a little further and then take it almost out." Bob put his hands
behind her head, but he didn't force her face onto his cock. He fed
prick meat into her until she might gag, and then he quickly drew it
back out. Already, Bob was moaning in his throat.

"Damn you little slut, you're sucking me and licking my dick
perfectly!" He fucked her face gently, going ever deeper and pulling
right back out before she could choke. Bob may have been a
pedophiliac, rapist con artist, but he was a master at fucking a
little girl's mouth. I shed new tears, and felt greater shame when my
cunt began to spasm at the sight of my innocent, nine year old
daughter providing sexual action to a man who was not quite as old as
my father.

If only I could describe that cock working in and out of Mary's
sucking hole. Perhaps I could convey the pure disgust I felt about
myself, naked, tied, pussy juice seeping down my ass crack. My mind
masked his prick out of the picture, like a TV censor with a huge,
black rectangle.

Sweet Mary was beginning to get tired. I could read her eyes. She
didn't like sucking on Bob's nasty cock. She was only doing it for me.
I hung my head and dripped tears down my naked breast.

"OH, JESUS!" Bob suddenly exclaimed. He whipped his dick out of Mary's
mouth and held it in his hand. He pressed thumb and forefinger into
the tip. I'm not sure why, but it seemed to relax him. I was surprised
he didn't cum in Mary's mouth or onto her face or breast nubbins.

Mary was very happy to finally be able to catch her breath.

"That was fantastic Mary. You are really quite a good cock sucker."

"Thank you." Mary answered him politely, like she might thank an
relative who had given her an ugly dress. She coughed a few times,
trying to clear her throat from his musky taste.

Bob didn't notice her lack of enthusiasm or didn't care. He looked
down at me. "See, I told her I wouldn't rape her, and I didn't. You
really did save her. Maybe you're beginning to learn your part of
these lessons."

I turned my head away from him.

"But I also promised that I would fuck you instead of her." Sarcasm
laced his voice. I expected that promise to be as flexible as the rest
of his presentation. He surprised me then when he knelt once more
between my legs and shoved his cock in me. He took my, bound but
possibly useful, hands in own to protect himself.

Ooohhhhh!!! I groaned into the gag. My cunt gobbled up cock like a
wanton, finally able to satisfy it's biological needs. I hated Bob
more than ever, his hard cock making my body feel so good, right after
he had raped my daughter's mouth. It was rape. I don't care if I did
guide his prick head between her lips. I don't care if Mary was
willing. She was a minor and her willingness wasn't worth the paper
the cops would write her statement on. The only thing I cared about
was Bob's cock driving into my hungry cunt. I hated it, and I had to
have it.

"Mommy are you still pretending?" Mary was at the end of her patience
about this game. That cock sucking thing hadn't been very much fun.

"She's only pretending with herself, right now." Bob grunted. He had
somehow kept from cumming inside Mary's mouth, but he wasn't going to
save her mommy's hairy cunt from that fate. He was already nearly
ready to blow his pedophile sperm into my womb. His prick sluiced
faster in my red hole, anxious to breed me.

"I'm going to cum inside you bitch. I'm going to squirt my seed into
you. Maybe I'll even knock you up. You to know that I am not just a
child lover, I love to rape all sorts of bitches, sluts, and whores. I
love to fill them with my cum, and I haven't shot off inside a cunt in
a very, very, very long time. Your cunt is loose and old and smelly,
but it's hot and it's wet, and I know you can't help yourself from
loving my big ol' cock rubbing your cum button. I can feel your hips
pushing against me, helping my dick stab you. I can feel your cunt
twitch and contract around my shaft. You're loving every minute of
this fuck."

"Mr. Bob, I don't want you do that to mommy anymore."

"Oh really, honey?" Bob scrunched his face then as his body pulsed and
his fucking cock jerked inside my pussy. "Just - one - more -
s-sec...aaaaahhhhhggg!"

I felt the hot splash of semen rush into my trilling cunt. I was so
close to orgasm and cumming right with him, but my daughter's voice
distracted me. The moment passed, and my cunt sucked up Bob's gushes
without adequate compensation. His body tensed one last time before
sagging and sinking on top of me. The last jet of cum didn't trigger
my orgasm, either.

"Okay, Mary. I'll stop now." My rapist's eyes gleamed. He remained on
top of me for nearly a minute before he rolled off my body and lay on
the floor beside me. "Your mommy's a great, hot fuck." He said
afterward.

"Can I please untie mommy's mouth?" Mary was very concerned for me.
She'd seen the tears in my eyes. They had stopped only during my
humiliating defilement. I began crying all over again when my
beautiful daughter begged to release me.

"Just one more second, sweetheart. I need to ask her something very
important."

My tear reddened orbs pleaded with him.

"Are you going to let me finish this lesson on my terms?" Bob's voice
harbored no other options.

I swallowed very hard and nodded. Yes. I would do what Bob wanted,
even though it meant the ruination of the only thing I held dear in
this world.

"Go ahead Mary, untie her hands as well. She must be pretty sore by
now."

Sore wasn't in the same dictionary that described my wounds.

Once Mary had freed the wad of white underwear from my mouth, I
realized I was  tasting the same thing Mary had.

"Oooh my darling Mary. This will be over soon. I promise." She freed
my hands and I hugged her desperately.

Bob raised himself up and caressed Mary's hair.

I wanted to slug him, but I didn't. I wanted to grab a carving knife
and stab him, but I couldn't.

Mary looked at him. "Okay, Mr. Bob. What else do we have to do?"

"This time I need your help, Mary." Bob looked down at his shrunken,
rapist's tool. "You have to help me get hard again."

Mary made a sour face. "I didn't like the taste of that, at all."

Bob took her hand. "You can do it this way, darling. It won't take
very long at all with you touching me. Here," He placed her hand on
his resting prick. "hold it like a dolly and make it dance."
 
--------------- 7 -----------------

Mary giggled slightly at the thought of playing with Bob's cock like a
dolly. That image seemed to spark a renewed interest in our continuing
game of make-believe.

Dread filled me as Bob's dancing cock filled once more with blood. It
bloated right up like a... dang, something bloated. Mary's immature
nakedness was no doubt a powerful aphrodisiac for our friendly,
neighborhood pedophile.

"You watched me fuck your mommy, right."

Mary's sour face returned.

"You didn't like that very much, but a little bit ago you were ready
to protect her from that. Don't you want to protect your mommy
anymore?"

Mary had to think about that. Not that she didn't want to protect her
mommy, but it didn't seem like as much fun as it had seemed the first
time. "I guess so."

"Of course you do. Now turn around, and I'll point out what we'll be
pretending with next."

I almost reached out and grabbed my little girl away from him, but I
was a mental wreck, emotionally derelict, and physically shredded. I
had run out of 'no'.

Bob smoothed his big hands over Mary's youthfully chubby ass. He pried
her half moons apart and tickled one finger against her bung. Mary
screeched and jump away.

"Right there, Mary. We have to pretend right in there."

"But it's so small, Mr. Bob!" She turned back around and pouted.

"It's only a little smaller than your mother's bottom hole." He told
her, sitting on the floor, slowly jerking his newly erect prick.
"Stand up, bitch." He helped me get to my feet. He pushed me forward
until I was leaning over the oven. He wasn't as gentle with my ass.

First he slid his finger up and under my ass, into my slick and still
horny cunt. Twirling a thick coat of gooey slime on his finger, he
pulled his finger out of my fuck slot and plunged it up my asshole!

"OOOWW!!" I yelled. Mary jumped a little at my outburst. She liked
this new idea less and less.

"See baby, my finger fit right inside your mother's bottom. I'll be a
bit more careful when I push my dick in her ass. It'll fit almost as
well."

"Please, Mr. Bob. Don't do that to mommy." I think Mary was about to
cry.

"I know this is very difficult for you and your mommy, especially for
you. You've been such a good little girl for so long. I bet you're not
always that good when you're at home."

Mary had to blush at that.

"Now your mommy and I are going to make-believe an ass raping, unless
you try to save her." He barely finished is sentence.

"I want to save her, Mr. Bob. I can protect her. You can to that to me
instead of her." Mary turned around to the kitchen table and pulled
out a chair. She was just tall enough to lean over it, baby breasts
laid on it's hardwood seat. Her juvenile ass opened like a small,
night flower.

"Don't Bob. Please, I beg you Bob. Don't do that to her." I spoke
aloud before I knew I could. "Me." I offered instead.

"Well, it seems I have TWO beautiful asses vying for hard cock. What
should I do about this?" He chuckled. His erection jerked in his
favoring hand.

"Maybe you shouldn't do it at all." Mary offered. She proved to me
then where all the wisdom and intelligence was in my family. I
couldn't muster any reply to Bob's lordly amusement.

"You're right, Mary. I probably don't, but we ought to make sure.
Remember how your mother kept promising to trust me, and then she'd go
back on her word." He pulled my head up by my hair. No, I think I
should pretend to rape someone's ass, unless your mother is willing to
keep it from being rape again. That way, we know she really does trust
me."

I knew 'someone' could only, really ever be, my daughter's virgin ass.
He'd already got me to put his rapist cock into her mouth, and now I
understood how he would convince me to let him fuck my baby girl's ass
and later, her virgin cunny. As long as I put his cock into one of
Mary's holes, she'd never know the violence of been raped. She would
still be a victim, but the horror of rape, one that continued to
terrify me, would never plague her.

"I'll put it in her." I capitulated.

"See Mary, you're mother loves you as much as you love her." He
reached over to the chair and dragged it closer to the oven. Mary
stumbled to stay in position upon it.
 
At the top of of the stove was a rusty tin can I used to catch bacon
drippings. I picked it up and handed it to him.

"That's perfect." Bob cajoled. He reached two fingers in the can and
dug out a huge glob of grease.

First he wiped a big blob on his cock head, and then he dragged his
two finger along Mary's ass crack, depositing the majority on her
bung.

"Oh, that's COLD!" Mary shivered.

"Now, it'll start just like your mommy, but you can make it easier if
you first push like you're going to the bathroom and then relax." Bob
pressed his finger against the grease on her dirty button, smushing it
in. Mary complied exactly as he suggested. At first his finger
couldn't fit inside with the little girl bearing down against it, but
when she relaxed, both grease and finger slipped right in as if they
belonged there.

"Ohh, it's not too small!" Mary ejaculated.

Bob was a master ass fucker as well as a master mouth rapist. He slid
his finger around inside her and pulled it out when she was fully
lubed. He stuck his finger in my mouth so I could clean my daughter's
shit off of it. I hardly cared. Far worse for me, I voluntarily placed
my hand on his greasy dick and smeared the biggest glob around until
his whole cock was ready to pierce my innocent baby's ass. I lifted
his prick up and pointed it at Mary's pert ass.

"You can't see your mommy very well, honey, but she's ready to put my
cock in your behind." He stepped forward until his cock head fit into
the slight dimple of my child's bottom hole. "You have to push like
you did before, honey."

I also pushed. I pressed Bob's cock into Mary's tight asshole until
she relaxed, and suddenly the thick head popped right in! Now I
remember, his cock was thick.

"Ohh, it's so big and tight, Mr. Bob. I don't think I like it at all.
Oww!"

Bob didn't begin to fuck my baby's ass right away. He waited for her
cries to diminish. When they did, he told her.

"It'll be all right, just breathe and relax. Daddy's going to take it
real easy." He pressed himself slightly further inside.

"You're not my daddy, Mr. Bob!" Mary was in a complaining mood. I
found myself fingering my cunt. I needed to get off so bad.

"Just a figure of speech, Mary." He pushed more cock into my
daughter's ass. When he noticed what I was doing, he glared at me.
"Stop that bitch, or I'll ram her."

I nearly cried again, but I pulled my fingers out of my begging cunt.
"You'll get yours soon, twat." He claimed.

Bob was ready to pull on his cock now. He slid it out just a couple
inches.

Mary moaned, but didn't say anything.

"I'm fucking your ass, you little tart." He pushed again, slightly
harder. Slightly more prick stuffed into my baby's behind.

"Even if this isn't rape, Mr. Bob." Mary's voice strained. "I don't
like it. Ooohh." I could see her wince. The pressure in her ass was
just too much. If Mary had relaxed her sphincter as much as it could
be relaxed, Bob's cock would have still pained her.

"You're doing great honey. This is the best ass I've had since I went
to prison. My cock is raging to fuck you harder, but I promised I
would hurt you, remember?"

"It hurts, it hurts!" Mary cried.

"Yes, but not too bad, right, my succulent little slut?"

"I dunno, ow! It hurts pretty bad."

Bob should have eased off, but he started humping her ass a bit
faster. "Maybe I should hurry up and finish this lesson." He thrust
most of his stiff length inside her bung and drew it swiftly back.

"OOOHHH, OWIE!!"

"Yes, it hurts, you baby cunt. You can take it. I-I'm almost there..."

"Please, Mr. Bob. Please hurry. I don't want this anymore!" I think
she was crying. I wanted to throttle the man who was now, truly raping
my little girl's ass. I tried, I did. I raised my arms, but he saw me
and gave me such a threatening look, I knew he could have been
screwing my daughter even harder, make her bleed even, injure her ass
and tear her insides.

"Please, cum in my daughter, right now." I pleaded. The sooner he got
off, the sooner he would get off my daughter.

"Oh, oh yes, UNNNGG!!" Bob shouted at me. Once again, instead of
blasting his virile sperm into my little girl, he whipped his cock out
of her asshole and grabbed the head with his fingers. They squeezed it
like a vice until Bob's pre-orgasmic passion drained nearly all away.
His cock remained hard and ready.

"Now, it's your turn, bitch." He took me from behind, but he didn't
stuff his greasy, shitty, stinking cock up my ass. He rammed it in my
cum soaked cunt and fucked me like a bucking bronco. "There, you'll
take this load!" Bob yelled.

Mary was still crying, and rubbing her bottom hole. After his thick
cock, she must have felt too much had gone out of her too quickly. She
pushed two of her fingers inside her still lubricated ass and frigged
her bottom, but very gently.

"I knew she was a slut." Bob looked over his shoulder at little Mary
fingering her own ass while he fucked me mercilessly from behind.

"Mommy, are you really pretending?"

What could I say? My cunt was my one remaining motivation, now that
she was safe again.

"Yes, I am, you poor thing. Bob isn't really raping me, I want him to
fuck me. OOOHHHHH!!" My cunt was ready to explode this time. It needed
release like a jammed floodgate on Hoover Dam.

Bob couldn't hold back any longer. I'm not sure he was even trying.
His prick erupted with liquid fuck, hosing my cunt walls with thick,
boiling cream. His cock head dug into my cervix, painfully, and
blasted a second flood of baby making juice right into my womb, where
it belonged. I could feel myself shuddering when Bob suddenly grasped
my hair and pulled my head back hard.

I screamed!

"Don't you dare cum yet, bitch! I'm not done with either of you yet."
He cursed and kept fucking his cock inside me, shooting hot sperm
until he could shoot no more. His second flood was stronger and larger
than the first.

I didn't cum. Bob had seen to that by interrupting my body with a
mighty rip of my hair. I'm not sure if I screamed from pain or
frustration!

"Mommy, mommy! Stop that Mr. Bob! You ARE a BAD MAN!!" Mary shrieked.
"I'll protect you Mommy. I'll stop him!" Mary fell on her back to the
floor and opened her legs. She presented her blond little thatch and
virgin cunny to the terrible, mean Mr. Bob. She had seen which hole
Bob was raping. She knew it was her turn next.

Bob was like a monster, driven to madness. He spied my darling's
enticing cooze, ripped his drooling prick out of my burning snatch,
and fell between my baby's legs. He'd just cum and his dick was all
ready fading, but that didn't stop him from taking what he could from
the prepubescent morsel offered to him. Bob glued his mouth to my baby
daughter's cunny and slurped his tongue against her tiny clit.

"OOOOHHHHH!!!" Mary shrieked. I couldn't tell if it was from pain or
something else, something unthinkable. I was too ashamed at myself for
craving Bob's mouth on my own hairy slit. Was my wonderful, good,
perfect baby girl really a cum loving cock slut?

"Do you like this, you fucking cunt baby? Do you like it when nasty
ol' Bob drills your pretty cunny with his tongue and sucks on your
clitty?"

"I-I don't know... i-it's so tickly and... OOOoooooo." The pulse of
Bob's mouth and tongue interrupted her.

"Would your rather I was raping your mommy, or sucking on your little
girl cooze and clit nub?" He began pinching my daughter's tit nibs.

"Ow, ow, oh, owie! No, Mr. Bob. no no, don't hurt mommy any more. Hurt
me! Suck on my cunny, pinch my little nipples, lick my baby clitty!"

"Then I was right. You are just another girl slut waiting to be
exposed. You're all sluts living for cock, aren't you?"

"Yes, Mr. Bob. I am. I must be, if you say so!" I had to remember to
warn Mary later, one more time, about trusting strangers.

"No, I'm the slut, Bob. Fuck me, not my little girl. Don't slick her
cunny, take my hairy, nasty, old one. I need you to fuck me!" I was
out of my mind with lust.

Bob began stabbing his tongue into Mary's virgin puss, preparing it
for the ultimate joy. With two women screaming at him, the certified
pedophile, to fuck them, one being a nubile and virginal, nine year
old girl, Bob's cock couldn't prevent itself from roaring back to
life. He crawled up her cherubic figure ready to rape his new erection
into her.

I watched his seven inch, thick, wonder-cock with it's overly fat head
and bulging veins balloon to full size. My maternal instincts tried
one last time to help my daughter, I grabbed at his cock, wanting to
aim it away from her and towards me. My first and only grip was
pathetic. I didn't even jostle it before he had slammed his prick
home, tearing into Mary's spit coated cooze, and ravaging her insides.

"That's right, mommy bitch. I told you, you'd put my cock into her
holes!"

Mary screamed and kicked and pounded her fists on the floor. "Mommy,
mommy, I'm saving you!"

I beat Bob's back with my own fists, before I thought to untie my
feet.

Bob fucked his cock so fast, blood and spit and cunny juice flew
everywhere. I was in such a panic, I could barely grip the knots in my
scarves. I screamed at the knots and cried for my baby. There was only
one thing I could say to her. "That's right Mary, you're saving
mommy!"

"God, how I love it when you two talk dirty!" Bob hollered. He was a
kinder-fucking machine who knew exactly how to take a virgin, baby
cunt. He was the Grandmaster of the art of raping adolescent little
girls. He had been practicing all his life, and now after a long,
spiritual hermitage, he was ready to transcend beyond ordinary
rapists, to become their saint and idol. Bob literally glowed from
pedophile ecstasy!

"Oooh, Mr. Bob. Mr. BOB!!" Mary started to shriek all over again. This
time I knew why. Her baby clit was waking up her nervous system,
including all those dormant brain cells waiting for nature's call.
Bob's thrusting tool, plunged into her tight cunny and pounded her
tissues with sensation.

Mary was cumming, the little bitch! I cursed to myself. I finished the
first knots and freed one leg. I tore at the other, like only a
panicked, deranged mother could.

"You're so fucking tight, you fucking slut Mary!" Bob increased his
pounding, drilling my baby girl with powerful strokes of his engorged
prick.

I shredded the second scarf. Mary screamed again. Finally I was free,
I jumped up and ran to the knife holder. I grabbed the biggest,
brightest length of sharpened steel I could find.

"Just look at her, listen to her! She's just another cock slut like
you." Bob laughed. He was just as close to cumming as I had been. I
leaped behind him and raised my weapon. He turned just in time to see
it's dangling point.

"What, you don't want a third load of my cum in your mommy cunt?"

I hesitated.

"This time, I'll make you shriek like a banshee. Your little tart here
will know what a real woman cums like."

Mary's third orgasm ripped through the room so piercingly I dropped
the knife. It's razor point fell straight down.

Bob's fuck or flight instinct kicked in and choose successfully. He
rolled away at the last second and my kitchen blade sank into the
linoleum, and it's point broke on the concrete beneath it. It fell
down, a little too close between my daughter's outstretched legs.

Our door to door rapist leapt up and piled into me, knocking me back
to the floor. My earlier sores howled with renewed anguish. Bob's cock
found my dripping cunt like a divining rod to water. He plugged my
hole and tore my mind from it's task. All was well for a time after
that.

I didn't hear Mary's piteous after shocks. She was crying for real,
suddenly ashamed for all that she had done. She only had herself to
blame, I thought jealously.

Bob's cock blistered my clit and reamed my cunt. We fucked for only a
few incredible, perfect seconds before we ignited each other's
orgasms. I shouted and hollered and spat and shook and wailed, while
Bob's baby making sperm poured into my cum packed womb. We danced
horizontally on the floor until our bodies were drained of all fluids,
cum, brain juice, lube, and ever last erg of energy. The electricity
in our nervous systems nearly shut down for our incredible cums.

"Mommy, now I know you weren't pretending!" Mary was still crying,
giving me one last comfort before I blacked out. From now on, Mary
would blame me, instead of herself.

-----------------------

I awoke, lying on the living room couch. My cunt was dripping with
sperm. My body ached and my head spun like a siren.

Bob knelt at my head and cradled it. He had put his clothes back on.
Even his zipper was properly fastened.

Mary pouted near my feet. She was still naked.

As my head began to clear. I realized Bob was talking to me.
 
"That night, long ago, when I took little Sally's pubescent virginity,
it was not the only night I crept there."

"No, I imagine it wasn't." I found myself answering.

"I returned to fuck her many times. Sally's parents never bothered me
again. After I'd spoiled their daughter's innocence, they would blame
her whenever they discovered me between her legs. For years they beat
and screamed at her, until she forgot that she'd ever been raped at
all. When she eventually turned up pregnant, they kicked her out of
the house, didn't they?"

I couldn't face him. I had finally learned what I needed to know from
Bob. I looked away, down the length of my bruised, raped flesh at sad,
little Mary. She looked bewildered, but she had not been broken.

The brush man stood, walked to the living room door, and opened it. He
stepped outside, and he called back to us, triumphant.

"Good night, Mary, you've been wonderful. I'm sure your other daddy
will want to hear all about it." To me, he warned. "This time,
remember to save yourself, Sally Sanderson."

The front door to my home slipped neatly shut.



The End

-- 
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