"Betsy… Betsy Morrison."
The slim little twelve-year-old was startled to hear a man calling her name. The young usherette had just stepped down from the bus and stood staring in surprise at the man who sat in the car by the curb.
"Betsy? Come over here for a second, I want to talk to you."
She'd only taken a few steps in the direction of the curb when Betsy noticed something that unnerved her completely. The man behind the wheel looked like her daddy. He looked more like him than Mr. Baker, the theater chain manager did!!
"Do I know you? I… I don't think that I know you," Betsy stammered as she bent down and peered into the car. "You'd better leave me alone or I'll… call the police!"
The man in the car just grinned at her and opened a leather case that he took out of his pocket. The slim little brunette saw the badge gleaming in the shining rays of the sun and almost cried out loud. I knew it!! I knew that I would get in trouble!!
"Get in, kid," the policeman said quietly. "I just want to talk to you, don't get yourself in an uproar!"
He even sounded like her father and, despite the fear and nervous twitches that she felt racing over her body, Betsy was aware of the slow itch of excitement that was creeping along her blood stream.
The man in the car motioned for Betsy to get in and after a few moments hesitation she got in. He knew her name. She couldn't run away from him. The man turned his head, checked the oncoming traffic then, without a word to her, he pulled his car into the slow lane and drove away from the bus stop corner.
She waited, not trusting herself to say the right thing. But as the time passed, Betsy found it harder and harder. "Am I… Am I under arrest?"
The man laughed. He didn't chuckle or giggle, he threw his big head back and roared at her.
"Awwww, honey. Do I look like a dude who would arrest a sweet little pumpkin like you?"
She didn't know why, but the fear ebbed away and a shy, questioning smile eased the serious planes of Betsy's pretty face.
Without warning the man pulled the car back to the curb. They were parked in a quiet, warehouse area. There were no pedestrians, no one to see them talking.
"No, you're not under arrest, Betsy," the man said gently. "I just think that you're a confused little girl who's caught up in something that she can't handle."
The fear came back and Betsy stiffened. He was right, of course, but she couldn't admit it. She didn't trust him, no matter how nice he seemed.
Almost as if he could read her thoughts, the policeman reached into his suit coat pocket and handed her a small, printed card. "My name is Jim Richards, Betsy. Take my card. I know that you don't want to talk to me now, but I think that you will soon."
Betsy stared in fascination at the crisp, white card. It read Detective James Richards and it included a phone number and the police department crest.
Jim Richards smiled at her and laid a gentle hand on Betsy's arm. "You're in over your head, kid. I don't want any trouble for you, but that bastard Simpson and that kid that pimps for him, Rick? Those are the ones that I want!!"
Betsy looked up from the card and saw the truth in the gray-haired policeman's eyes.
"They're scum, honey. They'll use you and turn you out until there's nothing left of you to sell and then they'll drop you like a piece of shit!"
Betsy wanted to cry. She knew that he was telling the truth, but just the same her tongue refused to move. She couldn't tell him what was happening to her.
"I know, I know that you don't want to talk to me now, Betsy," Jim Richards said calmly. "But I think that you will soon. Call me! Tell me what they're doing to you and I'll help. You have to believe me. I'll help!!"
Betsy stood on the corner, watching the police detective's car slip away and into the flow of traffic. For a moment the frightened little girl considered tearing up the card that she clutched and turning her back on Jim Richards' offer of help. But then a sudden calm came over her and she opened her purse and carefully tucked the card away.
The moment that she walked through the back door of the Majestic, Betsy could feel it. The little girl shivered when she sensed the cold, tense vibrations in the air. Those vibrations were mean and hurtful and spoke of an awful thing that was about to happen!
She saw Grace. The blonde was bending over the candy counter, her hands busily filling the case with fresh candy bars and boxes of goodies. The slim little girl stared at the older woman and in her heart she knew that Grace didn't care. No matter what she said or how she acted when they were alone. Betsy could sense a distance between them, a void that could never be bridged.
Before the worried little girl could speak and ask Grace what was happening, Betsy heard Newton Simpson's deep voice calling to her from the head of the stairs. "You're late, Betsy. Come up here, will you?" She didn't want to go with him, but, looking up, Betsy saw a hard, demanding look on the handsome theater manager's face. "Hurry, I have something that I want to show you before we open."
He didn't even wait to see if she would obey. Newton Simpson turned on his heel and strode away.
Betsy darted a quick look at Grace, hoping for some sign of support, but instead the blonde flushed and quickly looked away.
"Shut the door, honey," Newton said in a deceptively soft voice.
The man was smiling at her, but the smile stopped before it reached his eyes. They were cold as they stared at her.
Betsy did as she was told then turned back to Newton. She wanted to stay by the door, but he held out a hand for her and the slim little girl had no choice but to go to him.
"I haven't seen you for the last few days, honey," Newton purred. "I've been thinking about you."
She was drawn up on the man's lap. As she settled back against his chest Betsy could feel the dark haired man's big prick stir and stiffen against her bottom.
"Mr. Baker and I had a little talk about you today," Newton said. His warm hand boldly slid up under Betsy's skirt. "We've decided that you should be able to do a little more work." Betsy gasped softly as the man's stiff finger pressed in against the folds of her hairless sex. "It's work that can make you a lot of money. More than you're making now."
Newton bent his head and licked at the side of Betsy's neck while he jerked her panty crotch aside and forced his fingertip into her moistening little slit. "A lot of men who come to the film club like you and they'd be willing to pay good money if you would go off with them for a little while and… be nice!"
She knew what he meant! Betsy had known that it would come to this since she saw Kathy take that man back behind the screen. The slim little girl moaned and shook her head. The finger inside of her was moving and twisting, making it hard for her to think.
"Noooooo, I don't want to do that… I oggggghhhh!!!" Newton had pinched her stiff little clit and the mixture of pain and pleasure that welled up in her made her insides melt. "I… that's wrong. I don't want to do that," the pretty child whimpered again, but the tone of her soft voice was weaker, less certain.
"I didn't think that you would, at first," Mr. Simpson sighed in Betsy's ear.
He was moving under her and the trembling little girl could feel his big dong pressing in between the cheeks of her panty clad ass.
"That's why Grace and I took out a little insurance policy last night."
There was an envelope on the desk. Newton used his free hand to tip it and spill its contents. The theater manager's voice sounded harder and determined. His finger dug painfully deep into the soft, slick tissues of Betsy's puffy little cunt. "Look at the pictures, Betsy! Take a long look at all of them and then tell me how you'd like your mother to see them or have some of them passed around to the kids that go to your school?"
Newton roughly pushed her forward, his finger still buried in the shocked little brunette's hairless pussy.
Betsy moaned and trembled as her bulging eyes moved from one glossy photograph to the next. In an instant she realized that they must have been taken from an open bedroom window, the window in the corner of Grace's room!!
"Awwwggghhhh… they're awfulllllllll," the lovely little girl moaned. She saw herself writhing and screaming. Saw herself, the white shaft of the vibrator sticking out of her vagina while she lifted her slim body to the fat, plastic prick that jutted obscenely from the harness around the older woman's hips. "Noooooooo, don't show them," the pretty little girl pleaded softly. "Don't let anyone see them!!"
Newton laughed. He picked up a picture and pressed it in front of the shamed little girl's face. Betsy found herself staring at the image of herself one hand pressed between Grace's splayed thighs while she held the dripping dildo in the other. The thick, flanged head of the plastic obscenity was in her mouth!! "Looks like you've learned to like sucking cocks, honey." The man gave Betsy's tight little love sheath a shake. "You'll do what I tell you. You'll be a good little whore and fuck when I tell you to, won't you?" He didn't give her a chance to agree. "Because if you don't you're going to be known as the dirtiest little girl in town!!"
"Ooooooo, you're hurting me," Betsy squealed. She tried to lift herself off the punishing finger. "I'll be good. I'll do anything that you tell me to do, honest!"
She could hear a triumphant sound in Newton Simpson's voice and the shaken, crying little girl was shocked when she realized how much she hated him!
"I know you'll be a good girl. I'll make you be a nice, obedient little whore and wreck you in the process!!"
Mr. Simpson's finger was still buried deep inside of her and as it moved and twisted, Betsy gasped. She hated him, she did! But each time that the man teased the slim little girl's rigid clitoris her need for release grew stronger!
"Get on your knees, you little slut," Mr. Simpson grated in her ear. Betsy shivered and moaned in faint protest when he jerked his finger out of her slippery little love sheath, but she didn't fight when he rudely pushed her off his lap and onto the floor in front of his chair.
Betsy trembled and pressed her slender thighs together in a vain effort to still the vibrating excitement of her clitoris and to stop the flow of love lube as it squirted out of her and ran down the insides of her leg.
Mr. Simpson smiled at her as he casually unbuckled his slacks and jerked his swollen cock into view. Betsy sighed as she stared at the swollen, purple-hued head of the prick. No words were spoken. The excited little girl knew what the man wanted.
Betsy could hear the dry, whispering sounds her knees made on the stiff carpet as she inched closer to Newton's legs. A violent, clenching spasm hit the little girl's belly as she pressed her face between the seated man's thighs and extended the tip of her pink tongue.
Slowly, gently, Betsy licked all of the fat, jerking dong before her. She heard Mr. Simpson's sighs of pleasure and instead of disgusting her, they excited her all the more!
Newton had dropped his hand away from his prick and it jerked and wobbled under Betsy's tongue. The little girl pressed the burning tips of her small breasts against the groaning man's knees and opened her mouth. The slick, velvet-smooth flesh of the cock head felt nice as it slid over the flat blade of her tongue. Betsy pursed her lips around the shoulders of the shaft and sucked. At the same time, she worked her tongue in wide circles against the hard vein on the underside. "Ummmmmggghhh, that's right, little slut," Mr. Simpson groaned approvingly. "Suck it good! Suck it and lick it and make it wet and slick so that I can shove it in you!"
Betsy groaned. The filthy words were raining down on her and no matter what she thought, they excited her. Almost against her will, the slim little girl pressed closer, letting Newton's bony shin wedge in between her parting thighs. Ooooooo! She could feel the bone rub against her puffy, wet little cunt and shamelessly wiggled against it, driving her desire to a new, terrifying pitch!
Mr. Simpson sighed. His fingers twined in her thick, dark hair and forced the excited little girl's head up and down in his lap. Wet, rasping sounds escaped Betsy's mouth as she sucked and pulled on the big man's cock.
At last the man made a groaning, gasping sound and tore Betsy's saliva filled mouth away from his prick. The little girl gasped for air while she stared in lewd fascination at a long string of saliva and love juice dripped from the end of the purple cock head that she'd been nursing on. "Get up here! On the desk you little cunt!!"
He was rough with her, but Betsy didn't mind. The slender little girl felt like putty in his hands.
With one sweep of his hand, Mr. Simpson cleared a space on his desk top. The filthy photographs spun and slithered away and Betsy groaned as she was forced face down on the smooth surface of his desk.
There was a dull, ripping sound and Betsy knew that her panties had been torn away. The little girl moaned. She lay pinned against the desk, her feet dangling a few inches from the floor, her bottom naked and upturned before her tormentor.
"I saw you," Newton chanted as he moved in behind Betsy. "I saw you jump and squirm when that whore shoved that plastic cock in your ass!" Her skirt had been tossed high over her waist and the defenseless child whimpered when Mr. Simpson's naked cock rubbed between the firm cheeks of her trim little bottom. "I'm going to try that soon! Think about it, slut! I'm going to fuck that tight looking little ass of yours until you pop!"
Roughly the man lifted her. Betsy hung suspended in his grip and whined with excitement when she felt the saliva-coated head of his cock find the plump separation of her baby sex and push the lips apart.
"Yeah, you like that, don't you?" Newton's voice sounded rough and labored. "I taught you to like cock, honey! I popped your little cherry, remember? I'm the one who taught you to love this!!"
The head of the cock found the tight throat of her vagina and then rammed in. Betsy gasped and shook. The air was forced out of the half naked girl's lungs when the cock slammed into her in one punishing stroke. "Annnnnggghhh… Ooooooo, Mr. Simpson!!"
"You're all alike," the groaning man whispered as he began to make his thick slab of a prick move and jerk in the fight grip of Betsy's cunt. "That's why I love this job! I like it when I can take a little pussy like you and turn you into my whore! That's all you're good for, cunt!"
"Ooooohhhh… huuuuuhhh!!!" The words stung her, but the feel of the big cock slipping and popping inside of her more than healed the hurt. Betsy gasped. She wiggled and humped her slender little body on the end of Mr. Simpson's prick.
"Yesssss, I know that's all I'm good for," the little girl whispered heatedly. "I'm a whore. You'll turn me into one! You'll make sure that a lot of dirty men get to put their fat things in me and I know it!!"
She meant what she said, every nasty word of it! Betsy was beginning to hate herself but she couldn't control the violent spasms that shook her. She couldn't deny the hot, slick demand for release that had come to life inside of her!!
"Oooooogggghhh… I'm cummmming!" Newton Simpson gasped and moaned. "I'm shooting my cum in your belly!!"
She hated him, but just the same Betsy moaned with pleasure when she felt the hot flood of wetness inside of her. The man's prick was oiled and coated with it, making it glide easier in her belly and over the rigid tip of her swollen clit. "Aaaaaiiiieeee," Betsy squealed happily as her own sweet climax exploded inside of her. "Harder, shove it in all the way, harder!!! AAAAnnnggg… Ooooooooo!!! Oooooooo!!!!" Delicate waves of pleasure washed and lapped through her. The lovely little girl shook and wiggled. The cheeks of her plump ass kissed and compressed around the shaft of Mr. Simpson's prick. Her hairless pelvic arch scrubbed and squeaked against the polished surface of his desk.
I'll get you, a little voice whispered over the groans and moans of pleasure. I'll fix you. You won't turn me into your personal whore!!!!