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From: "Stereograph" <stereograph@hush.com>
Subject: {ASSM} The Gypsy Queen pt. 1 Stereograph (MF+g ped con? slow)
Lines: 391
Date: Wed, 04 Jul 2007 12:10:04 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Story codes: MF+g ped con? slow

WARNING: This story contains graphic descriptions of sex with
minors.  Read at your own risk.

======================{ The Gypsy Queen }=======================
                      {     Part 1      }

   The rain was pouring down like the gods had dumped a bucket.
I was soaked and my great kilt must have weighed an extra ten
pounds.  I dashed for a booth, splashing mud up my legs.  I'd
spotted some musicians I knew busking in the pavilion.  The rain
had been falling, with varying intensity, for an hour and the
acts hadn't been able to take to the outdoor stages.  The seller's
booths were the only relatively dry places in the Renaissance
Faire.  I splashed my way in, getting a nod of greeting from the
players.

   Just inside the booth, a woman was wringing out a little girl's
hair.  The woman was pretty, not in a fashion model's drop dead
way, but real life pretty.   She was slim and fit.  Her face 
pleasant, with hint of inactive dimple.  She wore the renfaire
version of a middle class woman's dress with a low square
neckline.  The dress and her slim body gave her the look of being
taller than she was in fact.  The girl had to be her daughter,
she looked to be a younger clone.  She was about eight or nine.
She wore a gypsy skirt of layered, translucent, veils.  The
fabric was splashed with mud at the hem.  She was trying to wring
out a large veil that formed a full length headpiece.  It too had
a band of mud at the hem.  The outfit was completed by a felt
vest.  The whole outfit was in shades of red, complimenting her
brunette hair.

   "Cute girl, is she tame?" I asked, joking.

   "Usually," replied the woman. The girl stuck her tongue out
at me.

   It was then I saw the crude flower drawn around her naval.
"Is that your tickle target?" I asked, making tickling motions
with my fingers.  The girl covered her belly, smiled, and shook
her head 'no'.  Then she dashed off deeper into the shop.

   "I'm Pam," said the woman, "and that scamp is Cathy.  Rest
assured, you've made a friend and she'll be back.  She comes as
part of a set."

   I introduced myself.  We talked about garb for several minutes,
always a good icebreaker with rennies.  She had made all the
clothes her family was wearing, except the slippers on her feet.
The slippers, now mud covered, were the product of the shop next
door.  I complimented her handiwork.  The little girl returned,
with two more in tow, and peeked around her mother.  I made more
tickling gestures, and the girls shrieked and ran off.  The other
girls had been a year or so younger and older than Cathy.

   "You know, you will have to really tickle Cathy before the day
is over.  You might have to tickle her sisters too," said Pam.

   "I wouldn't take that liberty," I said, lying.

   "They'd love it if you did.  I'm widowed and the girls miss
a man to roughhouse with."

   I wasn't sure if that was an invitation or not.  I was saved
from a possible mistake by the musicians finishing their set and
coming over to say hello.  I introduced them to Pam.  We talked
for a few minutes on the prospects for the weather.  Then
everyone started talking of other places to be, and the party
broke up.

   The rain had eased, but not stopped, and I went in search of
the friends I'd come with.  The excuse for the day was my
birthday.  A few years earlier someone had learned the date and
invited all my renfaire buddies to celebrate.  It had become an
annual event, the only time we all got together on purpose.  The
only time anyone remembered it was my birthday party was the
closing toast.  The rest of the day was just a party to party.

   The rain stopped about an hour and a half later.  The sky
started clearing rapidly.  My closest friend and I decided to
eat.  We bought food and went to the picnic pavilion.  Pam,
another woman and four little girls were there.  Pam motioned
me over.  She introduced her sister-in-law and pointed out the
girls.  Ann, dressed as a fairy, was Pam's oldest.  Darla, in
a princess outfit, her youngest.  Pippi was the niece.  Darla
and Pippi were the same age, and playing together.

   We ate and talked.  Then the girls all lined up along a puddle
and dipped their bare toes in.  Pam hauled a camera out if her bag
and snapped a shot.  I mentioned that I was a serious photographer
and asked about her camera.  It turned out she worked in a photo
lab.  We talked photography for some time, shutting out the rest
of the party.

   While we talked, Cathy sat down between Pam and myself.  She
looked at me, an obvious invitation to tickle her.  I snaked my
hand to her belly and attacked.  Peals of laughter rolled out of
her.  She squirmed so much, I held her back to keep her from
hitting her head on the table behind us.  I got a few tickles on
her pussy while I was at it.  When I stopped, Cathy rose and fled,
smiling.

   "I told you she'd love it," said Pam.  "See if you don't have
to do it a few more times before the day is done."

   We broke up and went our separate ways soon after.

   I ran into Pam and her party several more times in the course
of the day.  I tickled Cathy a couple more times and each of the
other girls once.  I got in a good feel each time.  They came to
my toast.  After that I walked them to their van.  I would
normally stay after hours on my birthday visit, but tonight I
didn't feel like it.  At the gate Pam asked if I had anything to
write on.  I gave her one of my calling cards.

   "Give me another," she said.  She placed the first in her bag
and wrote on the other.  "The girls and I took a vote.  We want
to come back next week with you.  This is my address and number,
call me and we'll work out the details."  She gripped my hand
after returning the card.  "Call me.  Please?  We really enjoyed
today."

***

   I called.  I called three times.  We talked for hours during
the first two.  Friday night I realized we hadn't set anything up
during the first two calls.  I called again, in a panic.  We
agreed that since I had to pass their house to get to the
highway, I would stop there and we'd take her van.  I should be
there by nine and we'd try for a nine-thirty departure.  That
would leave us a twenty minute cushion to make opening time at
eleven.  With traffic and bathroom breaks we might need much of
it.

   I arrived at nine sharp, no one answered the door.  I heard,
faintly, "Is that you?  Come on in, last room on the right."  The
room was a family room.  All the ladies were inside in a state of
undress.  Pam wore only a low cut slip.  Ann was in PJs, and in
the process of having her hair done.  Cathy wore her top, and
nothing else.  Darla was plain naked.  "Help me get the girls
dressed!  I've nagged them all morning and they haven't done a
thing.  If you dress them, I'll do the hair and we might still
leave on time."

   I agreed to the task and elected to start with Cathy.  I asked
for her skirt.  The girl dashed around the clothes strewn room
and returned with it.  "Undies!"

   "I don't wear panties with this," she said.  I looked to her
mother.  Pam had her mouth full of plastic clips and elastic
rings.  She gave me a tight lipped smile and nodded.  

   I searched the dress for some hint as to front and back.  It
didn't seem to matter.  I pooled it in a ring on the floor.
"Step in."  Cathy just smiled at me.  I reached and grabbed an
ankle.  Cathy didn't resist.  I placed her foot in the ring and
said, "Other foot."  Cathy just smiled.  She resisted the ankle
grab, so I grabbed a handful of butt and pulled.  She came with
me and put her foot inside the dress.  I pulled it into place,
smoothing the layers out.

   "Brush her hair, that will help me do it faster."

   I turned to Cathy and held out my hand.  "Hair brush?"  She
dashed out of the room to find it.

   I tried to start on Darla.  She just stood there.  Her arms
were crossed and her face scrunched.  I hunted up her skirt and
found a small pair of panties as well.  I tried to coax her into
the panties.

   "No panties!" she cried.  Her mom nodded.  I tried to get her
in the skirt.  She didn't move at all, so I wrestled her to the
floor and grabbed both ankles in one hand.  I lifted her feet and
pulled the skirt on.  There was an awkward moment when I had to
swap hands and she almost got away.  I lifted her onto her feet
again.  More searching turned up her top.  Her arms were crossed
again.  I tickled and grabbed a flying arm, thrusting it into a
sleeve.  She let me have the other for free.  A bit of tugging,
and she was mostly dressed.

   Cathy returned with the brush.  By now Ann's hair was finished
and she sat next to me.  I brushed Cathy's hair.  It was thick
and hung to her waist.  There were many ouches and other
complaints.  Pam assured me that was normal.  The hair took a
while.  Pam, in the mean time, was working on Darla's hair.  It
was being piled and fixed atop her head.  Finally, Cathy's hair
was brushed out to my satisfaction.

   I told Ann to bring her dress.  Really a girl of ten or eleven
ought to have donned it herself.  Her garments were more
complicated than the others.  Her skirt was made to resemble an
inverted tulip.  It had a loop and button, where should that go?
Ann refused to help me decide.  She did step into the skirt.  I
tried the opening in the back and each side.  I fixed it in the
back.  Had I just made a fool of myself?  Her top was of a shear,
silvery, gauze.  It had a band of silk foliage across the breast
that hid her nipples.  It had full sleeves.  I got it on her. 
Next were her wings, yes wings.  The strings had to pass in
through button holes at the shoulders and back out another set
under her arms to hook on the bottom of the harness.  She just
stood there.  I ended up scrunching fabric and gripping the hook
an inch at a time to work each string across her chest.

   At last the girls were ready and Pam went to dress.

   We hit the road ten minutes late.  We missed the opening of
the faire sitting in traffic in the parking lot.

   Our day at the faire went extremely well.  The rennies, staff
and patrons, knew one or both of us and went out of their way to
make it special.  The girls were able to enjoy all the rides,
repeatedly, because we weren't charged most of the time.  We
couldn't eat or drink enough to consume all the offered
hospitality.  Pam was given the honor of judging the main joust.
I was taken aside too many times to count for congratulations or
to receive the advice not to hurt Pam.  In part it was because
this was the next to last day of the season for this faire.
Everyone was letting their hair down a bit.  We left at closing
time tired, full, and happy.  The girls slept through the ride
home.

   At Pam's house I was invited to remain for the evening.  We
changed and settled down to a kiddie movie in the family room.
The girls sprawled on the floor.  Pam and I shared the couch.
The movie didn't inspire me.  Caressing Pam did.  Watching the
girls proved interesting.  At first I thought it my imagination,
but it seemed each of the girls played with herself from time to
time.  Closer observation proved that they did in fact do so.
Watching them, and snuggling with their mother, had me hard as a
rock.

   Pam leaned in and whispered, "Kiss?"  I kissed her.  The
kisses got deeper.  Hands strayed.

   "The girls will see," I said.

   "They're glued to the tube, they won't see anything else," she
replied.

   We continued making out.  The girls continued to watch TV.
They also continued to touch themselves.  Pam was wearing a
sun dress.  I soon found out that was all, no bra and no panties.
After a time she said in a whisper, "Make love to me.  It's been
so long and you're the first man I've wanted since my husband
died.  Please, do it right here and now."  She lifted her free
leg and rested it on mine.

   "The girls will see.  Wait until they're in bed."

   "Now.  They won't notice, if we are quiet."

   It had been a long time for me since I'd had anything but my
own hand.  I threw caution to the wind.  Pam already had Sparky
out of my running pants.  I pushed it toward her and she guided
it into her.  It felt so good that I ignored the world around
me.  I pushed and rocked.  Pam smiled.  We'd been at it for
several minutes before I thought to look at the girls.  They had
turned around and were watching us with the same intensity they'd
watched the movie.  They were calmly sipping their drinks.

   "Little pitchers," I whispered.

   "Let them watch, I don't care at this point.  Just don't stop
now!  Please, I'm so close and its been so long."

   If their mother didn't care, why should I?  I resumed.  Pam
went over moments later.  She no longer tried to keep quiet.  I
kept going, but the knowledge that she was coming sent me over
too.  We subsided.  Both spent and still joined, we kissed.  I
looked at the girls.  They were still watching and now they were
all rubbing themselves.  They quit after a few moments.

   Pam said, "Thank you, that was all I dreamed it would be.
Give me a few minutes to put the girls to bed and I'll explain.

***

   She came back and sat snuggled against me.  "I have a story
to tell you and a proposal to make.  Don't say anything until I'm
done, just listen."

   "Ever since I started thinking about sex I've known I was
different from most people.  Boys didn't turn me on, nor men
nor women.  Watching men play with children did.  I used to sit
at the park and watch men or teenage boys play with little
children for hours at a time and dream up fantasies about joining
them for sex.  I tried making out with boys, but it didn't thrill
me.  Not until one's little brother pestered us the whole time.
I came for the first time that night, and no one even touched my
pussy.  For me sex requires a man, a woman, and a child of either
sex.  Nothing else will do."

   "I know you like touching little girls on their naughty spots.
You're damn good at it.  No girl complains.  Everyone can see you
do it, but no one notices.  I don't know how you manage it.  You
must want more.  You must be something like me."

   "I started looking for boys that seemed to take a perverted
interest in children.  I started babysitting and grooming my
charges to play sexually.  When I had both lined up, I'd invite
my boyfriend over while I sat.  That sometimes worked.  Sometimes
I'd make a mistake, but I never got caught.  I married my most
enthusiastic partner in these exercises."

   "Everything went well for a while.  I had a stable of willing
boys and girls to babysit.  I had a husband who loved playing
with them.  I like to watch.  I like to be watched.  The mix
doesn't matter.  Soon, too soon, the kids outgrew my interest.
I wasn't getting new jobs, no one thinks of a grown, married,
woman as a babysitter.  I got pregnant with Ann before I ran
out of kids."

   "I thought having my own children would solve everything for
years.  My husband turned out to be adverse to incest.  He went
through the motions for my sake, but he couldn't bring himself
to really let go.  All my girls have had daddy's dick in their
mouth, but they never learned to suck it or tasted cum.  We
petted them, from birth on, but never for long.  Now they
masturbate dozens of times a day, but I don't think any of them
have ever come close to orgasm.  He'd use them as foreplay and
switch to me when I was ready.  I've been the watched, for years.
I haven't gotten to watch."

   "One night, my husband got drunk with his buddies.  He ran
the car into a tree.  I think it may have been suicide.  I think
he couldn't take juggling his love for me and his aversion to
incest any longer."

   "For several months I've been ready to start over.  I've been
looking for the right man.  I've reason to believe you are he.
I have three little girls to offer, you can do anything with
them, within a few simple rules.  I've been the watched, I want
to watch for a while.  I'm offering you your fantasies come true.
Maybe all of them, in time.  I like you, the girls like you.
Will you play with us?  Please?" she finished.

***

   I was floored.  I'd never dreamed of an offer like this.  Yes,
I get turned on by little girls.  I've lived with this ever since
I realized it was true.  I've never tried to scratch that itch.
I agree with the opinion that it's harmful for them.  The only
pleasure I've taken is a feel-up, when I can get one.  Otherwise,
I'm content with fantasies and grown women.

   Now she was giving me a chance with girls that couldn't be
harmed any more than they already were.  Girls raised to accept
this kind of treatment.  Was it too good to be true?  Was it
what I really wanted?  Would it last, I'd really only known them
for less than a day in real time.  All these thoughts, and more,
danced in my head.

   "I'll play," I said.

***

   "You'll start off with one weekend with each girl.  After that
it may be you'll move in with us and we'll do whatever we feel
like doing at the moment.  I want each girl to have orgasms.  I
want them petted and licked as often as possible.  I want them to
taste cum and suck dick.  Those may have to be separate at first,
until they learn to do it all in one operation.  I want them
humped, externally.  No penetration for now.  I want to watch
and take pictures.  I want you and the girl too worn out to cum
again by Sunday afternoon.  If you can come up with anything else,
do it.  You'll start next Friday, with Cathy."

   "Not Ann?"

   "Ann may be a special case.  She's trying to decide.  She'll
be last."

   "Ok, you have a deal," I said.

   "Come for lunch tomorrow.  Come for supper twice during the
week.  You can play with them in the usual way, with feel-ups.
We'll work out details before Friday."

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

Continued in part 2

*-*-*
Jeff
Remove PANTIES to reply.

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