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NNTP-Posting-Date: Tue, 13 Sep 2011 07:54:36 -0500
From: STS.last@pad9.nasa.gov
Subject: {ASSM} After The Collapse Chapter The Second
Lines: 371
Date: Wed, 14 Sep 2011 06:10:02 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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M/f, slow, ped, rom, cons

   Warning!  The following story was written for adults on an adult topic.
It contains descriptions of sexual scenes between an under age female and
an adult male.  If you are too young to read this material in your location
or if this type material disturbs you, please read no further and leave
now. All others read on and enjoy this fantasy.  Yes I said fantasy.  It is
not real and never happened.  It is wholly derived from the dark part of my
mind where nothing is real and everything can happen.  Do not try this at
home.







   After The Collapse

   Chapter the Second





   The trek back to the farm was, gratefully,

   uneventful.  "Mo'" stayed with Wilma and Hilde' saying little and
looking more than a little dejected.  I figured the ladies would have her
"sorted-out" soon enough.  I mean, I really didn't need this girl-child,
but, what can you do?  I couldn't have left her with that hated slaver. 
That bastard would probably have sold her to one of the less-reputable
"bawdy-houses" in one of the southern Counties.  I'd heard some of the
"horror-stories" about those places and felt that whatever happened to
"Mo'" here, was infinitely better than those hell-holes further south.

   We arrived back at the farm and Wilma, having referred to herself as the
"Head House Niggah", a term I thoroughly detested, took on the role and
swung into action, detailing where what and who went where.  I have always
marveled at the way she would so organize and arrange packages and other
items to be literally "ready-to-hand" whenever needed.  When everyone else
was out of earshot, I took her aside and upbraided her for demeaning
herself in that aforemnetioned fashion.  She stood with her shoulders
slumped, head down and started to shuffle her feet.  She dissembled so
well, I had thought she would have made an excellent actress.  She said
that she knew her "position" and felt that she only "called a spade, a
spade".  I told her that she was no "Niggah" and I would no longer tolerate
the disparagment of herself or anyone else that lived and worked with us. I
told her that she would, in future, if she must refer to herself with a
title of any kind, she may use the term "Head House Mistress".  She seemed
to brighten at that and a quick (and surprising!!) hug from her told me
that I'd made my point.  Wilma started to walk away from me, then turned
and said "Mr.  John, you'll not regret this, you'll see!!".  Let me just
say that I have never regretted, for one minute, all the help, knowledge
and forebearance she and Joseph have allowed me over the many years that
they have stayed, lived and worked with us.

   Gustav and Hilde' had set up their wagon near the brewery so Gustav
could get a "first-hand" look at my little operation.  They had made a
little lean-to and as Hilde' set about making it comfy, I asked Gustav to
come over and see what he had gotten himself into.  After a few minutes of
looking over my little hash-up, he made several pointers and really
wonderful suggestions that boded well for our future.  He suggested
"dry-hopping" to increase the flavor and an additional filter stage to
ensure the sanitation of our brew.  He also pointed up that, while just the
one recipe I had used for my beer was more than adequate and brought a
good, clean-tasting brew, with an addition of certain herbs and spices I
could "diversify" and increase overall profits as well.  Lord love the
man!!!

   Things were beginning to brighten up already!!  I had contacted an old
friend that was in the home-building business.  Fred had worked as a
"contractor" before the Collapse and had found ready work since.  He'd
learned the trade from his great-grandfather who put much store in the
"old-ways".  Fred had always used "power tools" before, but had learned the
use of "hand-tools".  These hand tools were now the very heart of his
business.  He was good with those tools and could construct, not just a
house or any building you'd want, but when he finished, were true works of
art.  I'd told him about Gustav and Hilde' coming to work with us and that
they would need permanent quarters built for them.  Ol' Freddy wasn't about
to let me down.  He was an imbiber of my brew and wanted to "make fer
damned sure" my Brewmaster had just what he needed.

   It had been about two months after bringing Mo, Gustav and Hilde' back
to the farm that Wilma presented "Mo'" to me.  This little girl-child had
come to us dirty, skinny, too skinny really with only an old sack for
clothes and poorly made sandals.  What stood before me was as complete a
transformation as is humanly possible.  "Mo'" had filled out a little, not
too much, but just enough.  She was still skinny, but in an attractive way.
Wilma and Hilde', I'd found, had made several sets of clothes and other
garments, sturdy, but pretty as well.  Her hair had been washed, cut and
combed.  "Mo': had shiny blond hair, sparkling green eyes and a figure, no
longer

   hidden by an ugly sack, that belied her 10 years of age.  Her breasts
had more than just budded out.  She was well on her way to growing a small
but appreciable "rack".

   I had to stop and remind myself that the little "nymph" before me was
"ONLY" 10 years old.  That was, under the law, well under the "age of
taking" set at 13.  Wilma must've seen the appreciative look in my eye. 
She went on to extoll the virtues and skills of our little "Mo'".  Among
other things "Mo'" could keep the "Main House" clean and dusted, keep the
fireplace and wood-stove clean and well-fed.  She had been instructed in
the washing and care of clothes and even how to handle a cast-iron for
pressing my "Sunday Best".  I didn't even know I HAD a "Sunday Best"!!! 
Wilma said that she and Hilde' had been instructing "Mo'" in cooking as
well and that she could do a more than passable "biscuits and gravy".  This
all sounded really wonderful to me!!

   Wilma had taken me aside and almost whispered that "Little Mo'" had been
instructed in the ways that would keep me "happy" and then winked.  I was
taken aback.  I must have looked like I'd been hit over the head with an
axe handle.  You know, the "deer-in-the-headlights" look, they called it. I
could see "Little Mo'" fairly blush bright crimson at this admission.  I
pulled Wilma a little further away from "Little Mo'" and asked her just
what she meant by "keeping me happy".  Wilma once again disslembled and
told me that she and Hilde' had trained her in the "arts" of men.  Needless
to say I was double-dumb-struck!!  I asked Wilma why would she and Hilde'
feel the need to so burden a young child with "arts" that I couldn't avail
myself of, under the law, for at least 3 more years!  To top it off I'm no
"child-molester" or anything of the like!!  I'll take no woman, child or
other without their express consent.  Rape, at least in THIS County, was
punsihable by having your yard and ballocks "removed" with a gelding knife.
The ensuing wound slathered with hot pitch and a straw inserted to give you
something to piss through.  This was NOT a happy thought!!

   Wilma shushed me (!!!!) and said that she and Hilde' had not even
thought of it until they were approached by "Little Mo'" herself!!!  I had
to sit down before I fell down.  This was when "Little Mo'" ran over to me
and clasped her hands around my neck, saying, all in a rush, that "Joseph
had Wilma and Gustav had Hillde' and that I had no one to take care of my
"needs".  The little dear went on to say that she knew that she wasn't as
"big and as busty" as the older ladies and that she didn't have anything
that a man could really want.  This last was what that bastard-slaver
Chester had told her.  After this she started sobbing huge tears.  I never
could take a child's tears.  I held her and rocked her gently, trying to
ease her fears and imagined hurts.

   Wilma had quietly withdrawn and went back to her duites, leaving me
alone with this oh-so confused little one.  "Little Mo's" tears had
subsided a bit to a few heart-wrenching sobs and the occasional hiccup.  I
tried, patiently, to explain to "Little Mo'" that what she had was more
than enough for me and that I was very appreciative of her offer, but that
urge had left me many years ago and I didn't want her to feel that this was
something that was "required" of her.  I just didn't feel the "urge".  All
she heard was that I didn't want her.  Dammit, this wasn't what I wanted
for this little girl-child, This of course, brought on a fresh round of
tears and sniffles.  After what seemed an interminable amount of time, it
seemed that "Little Mo'" had won out.  I had to "promise" not to send her
away and let her "try" me.  I had no idea what "try" me meant, but I had an
uneasy feeling that I would soon be finding out.

   My old friend, Freddy had been hard at it.  He and his crew had been
felling trees and "prepping" them for Gustav and Hilde's house.  The bark
had been stripped and the twigs and branches retained for kindling.  Larger
branches had been cut and stacked to dry for use as firewood.  Little if
anything went unused.  Fred had been using a "backwoods" preparation to,
not only retard insect infestation, but to give the bare wood a coating to
help preserve it.  It looked damned nice, too.  The home he was building
for the Muellers was coming along very nicely.  Freddy already had the
house "dried-in", that is to say with a roof on, just no shingles as yet.
It resembled Joseph and Wilma's place and they seemed very happy with it.
Hilde' was in the midst of getting their things moved in and trying to get
settled in.  Freddy had said that on the morrow he'd have enough shingles
split to start the shingleing job.  He promised that in two more days, he'd
be finished, except for the fireplace.  He'd had enough river stone brought
up to get the chimney about halfway done.  He'd have the rest of the stone
in another week, or thereabouts.  Just a little over two months has to be a
record, even back before the Collapse.  Freddy was a real perfectionist,
but a real Master Builder.  I had told him more than once that he needed to
get his Master's License, but he always said he was too busy to pick up a
little peice of paper that said what folks knew in their hearts anyways.

   Little Mo had been keeping the boys fed and ran errands for the builder,
Fred.  He remarked to me, a bit later, that "Should I ever tire of thet
little-un, he'd make me a real good deal on her".  I looked him dead in the
face and said flatly that Little Mo was her own person and she was NOT for
sale, PERIOD.  Ol' Fred had to take a step back, suddenly realizing how
deeply he had offended me.  He tried to explain that he's always wanted a
"bed-warmer" and that he had only mentioned it in passing.  I asked what he
meant by "bed-warmer", although I'd already guessed.  Freddy told me that
it had become almost a "custom" amongst the men of the County to take one
or two of the girl-children refugeees or outright slaves and "train 'em up
fer to keep menfolks happy".  I kept a poker-face and asked him what the
County was doing about it.  He said that it "'tweren't nuthin' and that Ol'
Jim Bridger had hisself a couple three little-uns".  I was astounded, but
kept my peace.  I figured that Ol' Freddy was no liar, but would seek Jim
out the next trip into town.

   Freddy went on to say that he'd had an older girl but she wasn't worth
"panther piss" and was "uglier than yesterday mornin's first crap".  Gods!!
She HAD to be ugly, then!!!.  I began to feel sorry, REALLY sorry for Fred,
if what he said was true about the girl he'd had.  He'd said that "Little
Mo was prettier'n a sow's ear and would fetch a good price if'n I'd had a
hankerin' to sell her" I was, needless to say, getting a bit more confused
as the day wore on.  I decided that waiting until the next needful trip
into town wasn't soon enough.  I determined that I'd go tomorrow at first
light and seek Jim out and ask his council.  AND find out about what the
County said about these "bed-warmers".

   When I had first built my home, I had had two 40-gallon steel barrels
erected on a very sturdy stand, rising up over ten feet above the
roof-line. I had the pipes connected to the main storage tank from the
well. It had been so constructed that the sun would heat the water
contained in the barrels and, as I used that hot water, the dropping fluid
levels would create a vacuum and draw more water into it, replacing the
used water and heating the new.  In this way I had a constant and fairly
reliable supply of hot water, year-round.  And with the additional height
from the stand, a fairly decent water pressure was maintained.When building
the homes for Joseph and Gutav, these refinements were added as well. 
Gustav shook his head when I detailed the reason for it saying that I had
to be some sort of "frustrated engineer" to come up with such a brilliant
idea.  I always liked hot water in my bath.  Just because the world was
now, for all intents and purposes reverting back to the late 18th century,
we didn't ALL have to go about filthy!!  It was this bath that I turned
myself to, just starting to lever my naked ass into the steaming water when
in bustles Little Mo.  Horrified, I quickly tried to grab my towel to cover
myself, obviously forgetting that I hadn't QUITE settled into the hot
water, YET.

   As I let go of the sides of the cast-iron tub, my feet and legs shot
forward, dragging my still-cold butt, along with my torso, chest and head
under the steaming hot water.  I came up, spluttering, cursing and with a
distinct burning sensation (too hot, really) emanating from my privates.  I
startled Little Mo, who was already scared shitless of me ( I thought), she
dropped what she had been carrying and RAN from the bathroom.  After a
moment or two the whole situation oriented itself in my addled brain and I
had this curious thought of how FUNNY this really was.  I started laughing,
I mean REALLY laughing.  I was llaughing so hard I could hardly breathe. 
Little Mo, thinking I was choking, rushed back into the bathroom to try and
help me.  Someone had taught her "mouth-to-mouth resuscitation" and she
started in trying to administer the life-saving technique.  I waved her off
and then she realized what was wrong, she moved as fast as a scalded cat
and started slapping my back to get me restarted.  This now was even
funnier!!  Little Mo, sensing I was in deeper trouble started to cry, but
kept at thumping my back..  I finally caught my breath and had to reach
around to keep her from beating me senseless.

   After calming her down, I explained to her what had happened.  As I was
explaining it to her this little light began to shine in her eyes, then a
knowing look and then the prettiest laugh I have EVER heard escaped from
the lips of my erstwhile saviour.  Little Mo was almost doubled-over in her
hilarity.  I remarked that "It wasb't THAT damned funny" which sent her
into a literal paroxym of laughter, She even started me giggleing again. 
After we had BOTH calmed down, she explained that she wanted to wash my
back and to take care of me.  This was what she said was "her" job and hers
alone.  I was already naked, she'd already seen that, she hadn't been
scared or frightened of my "manhood" such as it was, so I figured, "What
the hell?" I let her do as she thought best, When I told her that she
should do as she thought best, I could no longer fault her, since she had
done whatever she thought she could when she believed me to be in trouble.
I just then got another shock, but decided to let it play out.  Little Mo
then stripped to the buff and lowered herself into the hot bath as well. 
Facing me, I got a really GOOD look at "my" Little Mo.  She was still
skinny, but enough flesh on her bones to make it pleasing to the eye.  Her
breasts were still small, but gently rounded and curved upward to the
little pink nubbins of her nipples.  She had only trimmed her pubic hair,
not shaving it off.  She had a nice little triangle of gold blonde hair. 
So!!!  The drapes match the carpet!!  Her legs were like two slender
pillars, nicely muscled, well toned but not heavy.  She was probably only
about 4'-9" or 10".  A tiny little handful.  She commenced to lather up her
washcloth and apply it liberally to my chest, arms and torso.  I am built
rather large, not fat, but I usually stood 6'-4" and weighed probably
190-195.

   As she went about her duties, as she called it, I allowed my eye to rove
over her.  In so doing I thought to myself that I'd have to wait awhile to
sample the viands so offered.  But that might just be it's own reward.  Or
so I thought.  With one swift movement she straddled my torso, settling
down right on top of my cock!  Whether she knew it or not, she never said,
but went right to work scrubbing my back while facing me.  All the while I
could feel her hard little nipples dragging along my chest while she had
her hands wrapped about me, washing and scrubbing.  It was in this very
position that a curious thing happened.  Actully it was MY "thing" that
"happened".  I felt myself relax as I hadn't been able to do in just YEARS.
As I let my head drop to rest against the rim of the tub, I felt Little Mo
shift her weight ever so slightly, ending up with her mound gently rubbing
my cock.

   The thought pressed against my conciousness that I really shouldn't let
this get any further out of hand.  But the warmth of the water, Little Mo's
ministrations and the weariness of the day lulled me into a seeming
floating dream.  I felt Little Mo's breasts flatten against my chest and a
hot, snaking tongue sought mine.  I could feel my previously-believed
useless member start to itch with the old urge.  I tried to rouse myself
from the reverie only to find Little Mo gently pushing me back into the tub
wall.  She implored me to just relax and let her "do all the work", My
fogged mind was more than willing to accept that.  Somewhere deep in the
recesses of my addled brain begged the question "What work?" I was soon
brought up short when I saw that Little Mo had raised herself up on her
knees and was about to place "someone's" hard, throbbing member in her tiny
little snatch.  My mind was trying to figure out just "who's" member this
was?  I was suddenly and completely enveloped in a VERY warm, wet and
seemingly delightful envelope, or at least my member had been.

   I fought to regain what little of my consiousness remained and was
rewarded with a sexy little smirk from "my" Little Mo.  I became wide and
fully awake about 2 seconds before I felt a rumbing and literal boiling in
my ballocks.  A wave of intense feeling washed over me as my long unused
and pent-up seed burst forth from my cock, spewing, spitting and erupting
to coat the walls of my Little Mo's insides.  Spurt after spurt continued
in what seemed like an eternity of cumming.  Finally, after an incalculable
amount of time, the flow ebbed and subsided.  Feeling very sheepish and
almost (Almost, but not quite) embarassed, my head finally cleared.

   Little Mo was sitting on my lap, with my now rapidly-deflating cock
still buried to the hilt inside of her.  A grin or smirk, if you will, was
covering the face and I saw sparkiling, dancing eyes shimmering before me.
I thought, "Okay, she got to me, but I'm not letting her have the last
laugh".  I smiled as sweetly as I could, which I think caught her by
surprise, and told her that "While all of this was delightful and, I am
sure, wellmeaning, the bath water is now fouled with our combined juices
and we are no longer clean, are we?" A dim light emerged in her eyes and a
snall moan escaped her lips.  She had to clean the both of us, ALL OVER
AGAIN!!! ............................  I am such a PRICK at times!!!

   Little Mo quickly ushered me out of the now, lukewarn bath, asked me to
sit on a towel while she proceeded to clean the tub and the surrounding
floor.  I watched her as she performed this really needless task, but I
guess I needed to impress upon her a sense of propriety.  I mean, screwing
around in the tub is fun, but you still aren't clean afterwards, are you?
She moved to the task wordlessly and with an efficiency that had to be seen
to be believed.  I watched her naked body moved, jiggle and bounce and
immediately found myseld sporting another hard-on.  Twice in one day?  This
was not to be believed.  Turning around to look at me, Little Mo noticed my
stiffening member.  How could she not?  Without a sound she dropped to her
knees and began stroking and licking me in earnest.  I was nonplussed by
her actions and stopped her (!!!???) to ask her what she was doing and why?
She very sweetly reminded me that I had "promised" to let her "try" me.  I
shut my mouth, leaned back and let her "try" me.  I could see that this was
going to be very "trying" indeed!!

   The sensations that she was eliciting from my cock and ballocks was as a
warm salve to my mind.  She expertly stroked my cock, rubbing the sides of
the "cap" and bringing her hand up, around and over, while her other hand
kneaded and stroked my ballsack.  She would occasionall plunge her mouth
all the way down to the base of my cock, deep-throating me and flexing her
throat muscles.  Feeling her doing this was beyond description.  She varied
her rhythm and pattern enough for me to have to wonder what was next?

   I didn't have long to wait.  She had brought my cock up and was stroking
it against her breasts.  As I looked down she looked up into my eyes, I
felt my nuts tighten and warned her.  All she did was continue stroking and
gently suck the head of my cock.  As the second cum of the day washed over
and engulfed me, I looked down to see her swallowing almost greedily at my
cock.  She wasn't quite able to handle all of it, it leaked out and around
and dripped lasciviously onto her chest and small breasts, dribbling down
and from her little pink nipples.  This elicited a much stronger pulse from
my member.  Unable to handle this increased pressure she broke the seal and
I watched as shot after steaming shot liberally plastered her face, hair
and eyelashes.  Little Mo just sat there kneeling, letting the cum spray
where it might with a satisfied smile, among other things, plastered to her
face.

   I was ready to curl up at this point but really needed to clean off. 
Little Mo ran the tub and after ensuring the water was hot, but not TOO
hot, asked me to come join her.  I levered myself into the tub and lay back
as Little Mo washed and scrubbed me down, again.  When she had finished, I
had told her that it was MY turn.  She looked up at me and said that that
wasn't necessary.  I cupped her tiny face in my hands and told her, as
sweetly as I could, that I will be the judge of what is necessary and what
is not.  Her eyes began to glimmer with tears and give me a smile that was
almost beatific.  I gently kissed her eyelids, then the tip of her nose and
said that it was only fair.  She said not another word, but moaned on
occasion as I massaged her legs and back, making sure she was clean ALL
over.  

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