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 No.6530

Lami Pi Productions
by Regis, inspired by “Kidfight Club” by Midwych


Warning: In addition to all of the other sexual violence, realistic scatological descriptions and pornographic smut, this story contains racial epithets, designed not to offend sensitive readers any more than other content of the story will certainly do, but to provide an accurate atmosphere consistent with that in which the protagonist found himself.



CHAPTER 1 – Building a Concept


Jackson Avery was a winner, and was always expanding the diversity of profitable enterprises, some of them not listed on his corporate portfolio. He did not come to the decision to get into the private nude cunt-fight business without having a thorough knowledge of what he was getting into. He had no idea where it would lead him, or that he would soon be the producer of extremely violent competitions between apparently innocent little girls.

He always gave his valued customers whatever they requested, and they paid him handsomely for satisfying the most bizarre requests. Jackson was in every regard an entrepreneur’s entrepreneur, who knew how to make any opportunity into a paying venture, and never initiated an enterprise without first doing his due diligence.

At the time he formed his concept for his new business, he had no idea of the very young age of the competitors he would feature in naked girl-fights, nor for how far he would allow their battles to go, for the thrill of the gamblers. He always developed a comprehensive background on whatever industry he was about to engage in, particularly one so perilous, due to its highly questionable legality.

He was in the transportation business, specializing in container transport, with a burgeoning international business. His company was known for transporting everything from electronics to large appliances to bulk goods, to the secret movement of contraband. Everything his company moved was transported by container. It was the modern way.

The firm's excellent reputation was for the secure movement of goods and for prompt delivery, from and to anywhere in the world his clients required. He owned a fleet of transport trucks on every continent to get product and commodities to port, and a fleet of container ships to move goods between continents.

Show business was new to him, but he had a flare for taking on new projects and making them successful. He was always watching for new concepts, and was open to any ideas that could make him money. His first real exposure to designed sexual violence for show entertainment was unusual for the genre, but it got him thinking about building a new profitable enterprise.

Unknown to his major clients, he had built his legitimate shipping empire on the illicit transportation of human cargo, remaining removed from the reasons the people he conveyed had to be shipped, bound and drugged, in his specialized shipping containers. For the past 25 years he had taken his primary business in a new hugely profitable direction, without risking his legitimate shipping activity.

His system for illicit transport of contraband and human cargo was designed so well that he was able to pull it of regularly without fear of discovery. That was critical, because discovery would have pulled down his entire transportation empire. His was a big and respected name, and any kind of scandal would be disastrous to Avery Transport Inc.

He made sure he had no knowledge of human passengers’ end destination and end usage. That was information it was important he not know. He was certain it was better that he had no idea he was moving slaves, people of all ages from around the world destined to serve in the sex industry or probably worse.

He had a good idea what ‘worse’ involved, and knew it could create complications for him and for his clients if he could be tied to the end use of the people he transported. If he were ever connected to knowingly transporting people to go into a ring to die for the entertainment of violence-lusting audiences, he would be complicit in murder.

Jackson was careful in serving only select clients who had their hands clean, with no criminal records or having any known connection to organized crime. On the other hand, having had many meetings with them, he was certain some of his clients were Mafia Dons.

After all, the slave trade would be a fundamental moneymaker for the Mafia, and Jackson was certain the mob controlled all of the areas where the quiet movement of humans would be valuable, such as prostitution and violent or deadly child pornography.

Two of his special customized containers bearing restrained and anaesthetized human cargo were due to arrive to arrive in San Francisco from the Philippines. They contained a fresh shipment of young females of various ages, including pre-teens. Because it was the first shipment to that California port for one of his better clients, he went out to ensure things went well, with no surprises.

The night before the consignment’s arrival, the client, Jimmy Schuster, invited him to a private party, held at the docks in a prepared space in one of his large warehouses. Cars could drive in to park, so that there was no visible large group of high-end vehicles in an industrial area, which would have drawn attention.

Although dress was casual, all of the people arrived in large limos. All of the guests were male, were among the elite of San Franciscan society, and all of them had much to hide. When they held a special party, particularly like this one, the event was highly secretive, because of the nature of what they planned.

“These guys attending tonight are all wealthy businessmen and politicians, all of them flaming gays, but none has ever come out of the fuckin’ closet,” his friend Jimmy told him. “At least not to the rest of the world. I got invited because I am trusted, and I provided the space.

“This is not the kind of affair they would want anyone to know about, and certainly not know that they were present, or ever endorsed. They go to great lengths to ensure nobody knows about their secret life, and take extraordinary efforts to disguise this kind of activity. The official line is that they are attending a political dinner.”

After an hour of cocktails and mindless chitchat, the all-male audience of about 60 separated to form a large circle. Into it was brought a pair of muscular young men, naked except for shiny black spike heeled boots. Both of them were sporting impressive erections from their cleanly shaved groins.

Their stiff penises were dribbling gleaming droplets of pre-ejaculation fluid that splashed on the concrete floor. Their heads and bodies had also been shaved clean of any hair. The two young men were as hair-free as the day they were born, but Jackson suspected neither of them was not nearly so innocent as a baby.

Their muscular bodies bore gang-related tattoos, showing they were once belonged to a crude support network, but now, particularly since they had been jerked out of death row in a federal prison to participate in this late evening sexual event, they were entirely on their own.

“These guys are lifers from San Quentin, with no chance of parole, ever,” Jimmy told him, “convicted of murder, and are happily without the minor inconvenience of any family ties. They were drifters, with no fixed address. They’re both what we refer to as fully disposable, and any damage occurring to them can easily be attributed to the very tough environment of the prison.

“That entirely suits our nefarious intentions for them. We can do whatever we fuckin’ please with them. These boys are here to give the gays a thrill, and I find their contests stimulating as well. I hope you’re in the mood to witness a very violent, aggressive event that might get a bit bloody.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jackson said. “These boys look like they’ve had access to and enjoyed a highly effective organ enhancer, like Viagra or Cialis,” he observed.

“Three pills each,” his friend confirmed. “They’re used to them, because the warden issues a cock-stimulating pill to all virile prisoners every morning. He likes to see them so wound up they can’t help but butt fuck each other in the prison yard. The prison gang leaders have their way with the lesser guys they dominate. They breed like fucking mink.

“The guys on the bottom have to depend on their best friend, their fist, to get their own pricks off. It’s quite a sight to see a man with his ass propped in the air getting his asshole reamed while he jerks himself off. Their rectums are what are known in the sex industry as boy-cunts.

“That’s descriptive,” Jackson said. “I’ve always preferred the rectum of a woman, and when I’m ejaculating, to burn her ass with a cigarette. It produces very stimulating squeezing of her entire colon. The anus of a girl in her early teens is also quite satisfying. I’ve never plumbed the butt of a male.”

Billy nodded, and continued with his description of what was to occur at the gay gathering. “It’s amazing what a massive dose of designer dick stiffener and a taste of high quality purified speed can achieve at these parties. They’ve got both in their systems.

“It’s all a matter of creating the right environment, atmosphere, for these guys to get it on. Both have a record of being brutal fighters, and I’ve heard there is some serious money riding on the outcome of this battle. These boys will love performing for a crowd of men. I think you’ll enjoy being in on this.

“This is exclusively guy sport, but I think the ladies would enjoy observing it as well. Women really get off on watching people of either gender doing damage to each other, the more severe and sexual the better. It’s just that this special interest group doesn’t need or want any cunts hanging out at their distinctive parties.

“Tighten you jock strap. It looks like these two rigid pricks are ready to rock and roll!”

Handlers placed stout leather belts around the waists of the two nude men. Each belt was fitted with a cuff attached to the back. Each man had his left wrist placed in the cuff, effectively immobilizing the left arm. Now they had just one hand to work with, whatever it was that was expected of them in this bizarre situation.

“It’s a special fight night,” Jimmy explained. “This is going to be a handicap bout. They can’t put up much of a defense with only one arm. To maintain balance with the use of only one arm, they are forced to keep their legs apart and their knees bent. In these terrific high heeled boots, their every movement will cause their big stiff dicks to bob and wag beautifully, and their big balls to swing wildly.”

“I’d guess their testicles will be vulnerable as well,” Jackson said, and smiled broadly. “This competition is likely to become quite interesting. I haven’t seen a good fight since my school days,” he told his friend, “and except for one that broke out in the showers, those were not in the nude.

“That shower fight was quite funny, because the whole football team was there as witnesses of an unplanned fight that broke out while everyone was showering. The two guys who fought were jerking their roots, having a ‘mine’s bigger than yours’ contest when emotions took over, and things quickly turned quite nasty.

“They grabbed each other’s cock, jerking on them to try to get the other guy off his feet. The more they moved, the more they actually jacked each other off, until they were both spurting thick gobs of cum all over each other. Teenage football players can be very stupid, and these two definitely were.”

“Wish I’d got to see that one,” Jimmy said. “The fight tonight is the start, just to determine the loser. It will likely be a cock fight too. I hope you’re ready for some rough stuff. The fight will definitely be entertaining, and will take most of the time, but it is not the objective. This bout will have a loser in the real sense of the word.

“San Francisco gays love to witness gross sexual violence. This is likely to become very dirty. I’ve provided this warehouse as a safe place for their organization to do something like this. Their association has provided extensive security to ensure they’ll have total privacy, which is completely necessary, as you’ll see. They’ve done events like this before. They call this kind of event a Jewel Heist.”

“That’s a curious term for a fight,” Jason observed.

“I think you’ll find it completely appropriate. One of these two young criminals is going back to jail without his family jewels. This show is going to be a total cock and ball castration event. Everything comes off the loser. Nothing left but a little hole where his urethra spills out, just in front of his asshole, the place he’ll have to pee from.”

Jackson felt his erection jerk with that news. “The guy’s cock’s coming off too?” he asked, incredulous. He had never in his life witnessed anything close to this, but was quite interested to see how it unfolded. His interest went beyond the erotic content. He was interested to see if there were any financial benefits to be had.

Adding total organ removal as a conclusion of a male event was an interesting twist. He wondered if there might be a female equivalent. It would probably be uterus destruction, he guessed,

“Definitely,” Jimmy said. “The winner will be the one who gets his opponent down and gets on top of him. His first task is to jack off his opponent, just like the boys at your high school shower fight. Then his cuffed wrist will be freed from his belt, and he’ll be given a sharp butcher knife. These young guys have their instructions.

“They’ll obey the rules to the letter, because they’re literally fighting for their manhood! If they want to walk out of here with their cock and balls intact, they’ll do exactly as instructed. Any deviation from the script and the guy on top will also automatically qualify for total castration.

“At least one of these studs will be made into a fuckin’ woman, no matter what! They’ll have to squat to piss. That’s the whole purpose of this party, and what the men have come to witness. The warden is a member, and does all the paperwork to cover their absence, which will not likely be necessary, as well as whatever happens to them in this competition.

Jackson’s pulse rate became palpable as the nude male fight commenced. The men sparred, each looking for an advantage. They were both capable street fighters. They were able to punch with their free hand, but could not defend well with just one arm free. It was a good match up, and before long both had bloodied the other’s face.

Both also had their left eye swelling closed. Their penises bounced and their balls swung wildly with each move. The men in the audience cheered on their favorite. With only one arm free to maintain balance as well as to fight, their primary use of their free right arm was to remain upright, and to strike at their opponent.

With the need to keep the arm moving to keep their balance, they had little opportunity to get a foot up to kick the other in the nuts. Critical was keeping upright. Neither was able to gain an advantage, and the punishing fight went on for more than 45 minutes. Both slipped more than once, but recovered before the other could take advantage.

The young men bobbed and weaved between punches to avoid receiving a telling blow from the other, but both managed to connect regularly. The one-arm attacks were sometimes awkward, but were taking a toll every time a big taped fist connected. This late in the bizarre battle it was apparent the men were becoming exhausted.

At last, one of the tiring men, slamming his foot down in a sudden turn, broke the spike heel off one of his boots, and went down. Immediately the other straddled him, sitting on his chest, his back to the downed man’s face, and with his free hand grasped the base of his opponent’s rigid penis.

The firm flesh of the captive penis reacted to his grasp, and he felt in complete control of his downed adversary. He could feel the stiff organ pulsing in his powerful fist. He continued to jerk on his adversary’s cock, causing it to stiffen and swell further, until the flared head beginning to leak a telling dribble of pre-ejaculation fluid over the victor’s pumping fist.

A handler stepped in, and unclasping his bound wrist, placed a butcher knife in his newly freed hand. The direction of this event had taken an irreversible course. Jackson held his breath. They had given the convicted murder the chance to kill another man, this time in public. The dominant man did not use the blade immediately, but instead continued to firmly, rapidly and purposefully pump on the raging erection of his foe. “You’re my bitch, you fuckin’ prick!”

Jackson grinned when he saw the man on top was effectively jacking off the young man he had pinned to the concrete floor. He was going the whole way. The men watching the show cheered him on as he aggressively masturbated his fight-mate, and in a couple of minutes he gradually increased the tempo of jerking the captive cock until he brought the pulsing flesh-mast throbbing in his fist to an erupting ejaculation.

Jackson was startled with his stimulated sexual response to this sight. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and realized what a highly erotic event this was proving to be. What enhanced the excitement was in knowing that the big testicles and spurting cock were about to come off.

Without hesitation the man on top got his long stout fingers around the large swinging testicles as well as the rigid cum-spurting penis of his downed rival, painfully pulling and stretching the entire gonad assemblage away from the screaming and ejaculating young man’s groin.

The men surrounding the combatants shouted their unbridled encouragement. The victor responded as they wished. The crowd was delighted to see the man with the knife was highly sexually stimulated, and massively ejaculate as he screamed in rage. With a swift and masterful stroke of the sharp blade, he separated his foe’s cum-spurting penis and gonads as a single unit from his clean-shaved crotch.

In that quick moment of mastery over his opponent, he completed the fight’s prime objective of a total ceremonial castration. The wound in the loser’s groin where his genitalia had been spurted blood, thrilling the cheering men who had come for this extreme form of violent entertainment.

The jubilant victor leaped to his feet, holding his severed prize high over his head and dancing in elation. His own firm member began pulsing, and then to spurt jets of cum into the air, to the delight of the male audience. A glass of heavily salted water was splashed onto the clean groin wound of the other, stemming the flow of blood.

“Our surgeon will stitch him up to ensure the end of his urethra is exposed. so that he will be able to pee like a woman,” the host said. “He’ll have to squat to piss, but that’s appropriate, because he’ll become a bum boy for the other inmates, and will likely die with a penis filling his colon with semen while a blade rips open his belly. He’s about to get started as a boy-cunt as I speak.”

Two burly handlers flipped the loser onto his stomach, and propped his buttocks in the air. Without hesitation, the victor mounted him, thrusting his spurting erection into the castrated loser’s rectum and deep into his colon. The man’s humiliation was complete. He ceased his disconsolate screaming, and quietly sobbed.

Jackson was impressed with the positive effect of dressing the nude male fighters in spike-heeled boots. The vision of the spike heels on naked males doubled the raw cock-lifting eroticism of the experience. Jackson made a mental note to keep this in mind.

The men who made up the audience displayed remarkable restraint by keeping their own organs in their pants, but Jackson spotted more than one pair of trousers with a growing dark moist spot, revealing the wearers’ involuntary production of their own pungent seed, a partial ejaculation producing what are commonly called fresh pecker tracks.

Jackson had an immediate new appreciation for what power there was in watching as a group of like-minded people, a live, only partially controlled act of extreme sexual violence. This was going to be the foundation for what he would develop as a secret show organization.

CHAPTER 2 – A Startling Discovery


Jackson Avery’s wife Martha had left her cell phone on the counter when she had rushed out for a coffee meeting, and when it buzzed to give notice a text had arrived he picked it up. He knew better than to open it, but the message was brief and showed on the front screen:

“Adding Betty, who’s 5, redhead, experienced. Serious punch and knees! Her Mom’s into it. Love this tot’s chances! Got aggressive opponent for her? See you Thurs. Love, Helen.”

Now he was too curious not to look. It was part of a string of messages from a woman who’s ID at the top of the string was Helen Regent. They were all signed ‘Love’. He wondered if Martha might be bisexual. He was certain Helen was gay. He had only met the Regents once at a New Years Eve party, and spoke with them briefly.

Harry was a prominent political lobbyist in Washington, with a significant law background. His law practice pulled a lot of weight. His firm also did work in London, Berlin and Bangkok, representing big industry to governments. He was also known for representing highly placed people in legal disputes, ranging from tax avoidance to involvement in criminal activity.

His wife Helen was a voluptuous beauty with long jet-black hair, curls in the right places, and Betty Page bangs that covered her eyebrows. She was a sexy dresser, and reputedly had more interest in wives than in husbands. Helen had a strong, influential manner, and looked like the kind of always-smiling woman who at first glance was a charmer.

Those with dealings with her discovered she was also used to getting her way, regardless of the social cost. Jackson found her interesting, and noticed in a couple of conversations during the evening that she was indeed able to sway opinions, and used persuasion as her main tool. She also showed an edge that suggested she could be brutal, when doing so would allow her to dominate.

The text message on his wife’s cell phone suggested both Helen and Martha had erotic taboo interests they acted upon, far beyond the apparent. It also made it clear the two were working together on a private project. Jackson was leaving for New York Thursday morning, and would be gone for 2 days of business negotiations. Martha knew this; he’d planned the trip 6 weeks ago, and with ongoing delicate negotiations, she also knew there was no way he was going to cancel. What the fuck was his wife up to?

Little girls fighting? Tots in combat? She would have their Las Vegas mansion to herself for two days. Obviously she planned to entertain guests, with cute and perhaps nude fighting little girls as the entertainment. He suspected his wife and Regent’s were into a girlie, kiddie and tot fight club! Fucking hell!

He tried unsuccessfully to think of an alternative explanation for an experienced 5-year-old redhead with a mean punch requiring an opponent. Surely his wife of 40 years wasn’t into those underground nude KidFights. Hell, although he’d heard talk of them, he had never seen one or even a video to know if they were real. The stories he’d heard said they were run by the mothers of the fighting little girls. That was doubtful at best. There had to be another explanation.

He went quickly into her den, and found her computer was on, although he knew her password. He went online and searched through her Bookmarks. Martha had broad interests, with a lot of bookmarks, but she was very well organized, and he quickly found what he was looking for. They were not on the usual internet, but were instead on the highly secretive and encoded Freenet, requiring Torrent connection.

There were three recently visited websites, a live streaming service and to top it off, a complete archive. She had saved her ID and password that came up automatically, so the sites were, for all practical purposes, completely accessible to him. What the archives had in common was the contraction KidFightClub in the folder names. Obviously this stuff on the fight videos was organized.

He and his wife had young grandchildren; what the hell was Martha doing with her nose into kiddie porn? From what he’d heard, this stuff could get quite filthy, and potentially violent. That was quite risky. The last thing he needed was for some cop to come visiting while she was entertaining her associates with a friendly little nude kiddie fight.

He went to the first folder in the archive to see what was offered, and was startled at what came up. Both startled and turned on. What he found were, as the name made clear, kiddie fights. Or to be more accurate, kiddie girlie fights, featuring nearly naked little girls, getting it on in front of a group of masturbating women. Only women.

Somewhere, in the large party room of a private home, with furniture cleared for the event, a simple unadorned ring was set up, with about 20 women forming an audience around it. The ring was a minimal affair, consisting of 4 stout posts on wide metal bases weighted down by heavy sandbags, standing on a cheap carpet laid on a large plastic sheet, obviously to protect the home’s expensive hardwood floor.

The posts were joined by two strands of small gage wire, one connected to the tops of the posts and the other half way to the floor, both held on with white insulators. A heavy-duty battery was connected to an adjustable energizer. It had three knobs, and looked like it could vary the voltage and pulse frequency of power delivered to the wire.

This ring was nothing but a sophisticated electric fence! The posts were no higher than 3 feet. This ring was designed for fights between small children, and would give them anything from a slight uncomfortable buzz, a solid jolt or a disabling muscle-spasm shock if they were in solid contact and with the right voltage.

This was serious equipment for what purported to be a casual club, meeting in a member’s home. It was clear the stories Jackson had heard were not only true, but understated. What he saw told him there was an organization behind this, and he wondered if he could determine who drove it.

Two pretty little girls, one 6 and the other 5, wearing nothing but skimpy sagging diapers, were placed in opposite corners. These little girls were too old to require diapers. The skimpy protective infant wear had been purposefully pinned loose so that they would hang suspended, and likely slip further down soon after the action started.

A female voice-over on the video said, “Meet Sherri, who’s 6, and her opponent Tammy, who’s just 5. Sherri has a mean right, and Tammy’s a real scrapper. Pick your favorite before they get it on, because all betting is off once the first punch is thrown, no exception!”

The otherwise naked little girls had their hands taped with cloth tape, and were set to fight each other. The women screamed encouragement as the children eyed each other, both of them knowing they were likely to get hurt. This was not going to end without damage. Jackson was surprised they were so very young. Would either of them even know how to effectively fight?

Neither of the naked little girls looked particularly keen; in fact they appeared to have no idea what was going on, but the shouting women were highly excited, making it clear they were experienced, and knew precisely what to expect. Although the two in the ring were novices, the young mothers forming the audience were veterans of these parties.

The young women’s agitated behavior told Jackson most of these ladies were hardened fans of kiddie fights, anxious to see the little girls punch the crap out of each other, and hoping for blood. This video was promising to be good! His refined, urbane wife Martha, grandmother to 3 beautiful little girls, was among them.

One of the women had a small notepad, and Jackson saw she was acting as a bookie. She moved around the room, obviously taking bets on the outcome of the impending fight. He watched Martha give the woman a small roll of folded bills, placing what appeared to be a substantial bet.

A mature woman with a shapely figure, wearing an open blouse that revealed more of her cleavage than it covered, a perky short-short skirt above gorgeous bare legs and spike heels stepped into the ring. She was carrying two leather collars decorated with spikes and attached to either end of a chain, less than 2 feet long.

The spikes on the collars looked to be more dangerous than Jackson guessed they were. He would wait for a close-up shot to see if the points gleamed. Collaring the naked children was a creative idea, and introduced several interesting possibilities. In Jackson’s mind, looking forward, collars were in, diapers were out. The collars hid nothing of interest.

The woman brought the girls to the center of the small ring and snuggly collared them. The collars and short chain acted as an elegantly simple mechanical referee. Now the little girls could not escape each other, nor turn their backs. Both of them were now totally vulnerable to the scratching nails, pounding fists, jamming elbows, driving knees and furious kicks of the other. It was simply a matter of which of them could strike the other most often, and hard est.

“Bets are now closed,” the voice said, “Let the fight begin!”

Once the action started, the cute nearly naked little girls would have no option but to fight each other. The chain served as a perfect referee for a fight like this, as it recognized no rules, other than the requirement the fighters continue their attacks on each other. There were no outer options.

These women had developed a terrific structure for their amusing pugilistic pastime, and Jackson realized that men would be easily as interested as any woman in this kind of event. It was a shame to hide a pair of pretty little cuntlets with diapers.

You would not have to be a pedophile to enjoy watching naked little girls combating each other. It wasn’t about sexuality, it was, like all boxing, wrestling and whatever other forms used by the combatants, pure sport. It was just that their nakedness lent color to the fierce competition, and made them both vulnerable to bruises, cuts and scratches on all parts of their cute little bodies.

It was not that their nakedness was required, but clothing provided some level of protection, and fully displayed little cuntlets would have made the naughty little girls’ appearance even more interesting. The two little girls in the ring braced themselves, ready to do combat.

Any little girl of 5 or older was starting to develop the female shape that both women and men found attractive, and all of these children were very well selected. Fat, stubby legs and arms were developing into lovely limbs with the right curves. Their tight little tummies had cute bulges in the right places, and their buttocks retained prominence behind, echoing the form of breasts.

It was completely natural for a man to get aroused, and likely at the peak of the action to ejaculate, just as the women would experience a succession of orgasms watching the performance of highly sexually stimulating kiddie violence. He thought it would make a lot of sense to include men in the audience, simply for the extra revenue they would generate.

This was a natural sport for men, who would likely have innovative ideas on how to improve the excitement factor. Just from watching the preparation, Jackson was developing ideas on how the match might go, and what kind of cruelty he would like to see these kiddies inflict on each other.

When told to begin, the pretty little girls were slow in starting, and Jackson was startled at the rude encouragement of quick zaps from cattle prods in the hands of their unsympathetic mothers. Those jolts had to hurt! They leapt into action, and were soon going at each other with all of the tricks in their bags, striking with growing fervor.

They kicked, pulled hair, scratched, kneed each other and threw volleys of punches, some of those doing some damage. Their lack of style said these two were rank amateurs, just little girls whose mothers happened to belong to a kiddie-fighting club. It was clear they both understood what had to be done in order to win.

Jackson expected they had both been in the kiddie gallery during earlier fights. That would be the least their mothers could do to prepare them for this kind of action. Both were crying and sobbing, but they kept their knees, kicks and punches coming, with growing effect.

Even at their tender age, it was apparent that they had both received some form of training, because they knew to deliver flurries of punches. Jackson assumed they probably also had some prior experience in such bouts. Judging from the number of women in the audience, these nude kiddie battles were likely a common occurrence.

The sobbing children knew to give each blow their all. That was how their attacks on each other were successful. They had probably competed in some ritzy afternoon tea competitions, carefully staged naked little girl fights that were designed to be highly sexually stimulating for their all-female audience. Jackson learned that women got their jollies arranging and watching such things.

Their mothers were clearly getting off on the damage being done to their little daughters, as well as to the damage they were doing to the other. The moms both appeared to be unconcerned, and were quite happy to see the growing damage of scratches, bleeding noses and swelling eyes.

The small kiddies’ only defense was to attack, and attack is what they did, with vengeance. Some of their blows were effective, and soon Tammy had a cut above her eye and the taller Sherri had walked right into an uppercut with her head down, and earned herself a serious nosebleed.

This video featuring the nearly naked little girls pounding on each other was proving to be a great introduction to what, in Jackson’s view, was an innovate new sport, and he was getting quite interested in how it unfolded. This kind of erotic action was what got his imagination racing.

The women were screaming encouragement to the little girls, who were sweating from the exertion of the fight, and who’s diapers had begun to slip with the heated action, providing regular revealing glimpses of their most intimate charms, with frequent interesting peeks at their puffy little pussies. This was the best of show business.

The front of the thin diapers were soon yellowing, becoming wet and dripping with their urine. Tammy, in the heat of being severely pounded by Sherri’s taped fists, had also passed a firm stool, visibly rolling in the sling of her slack little diaper, swinging wide with her every movement.

Jackson could also see from the severely sagged diaper she was squirting piss with every blow she took. Compared to Sherri, Tammy was more of a tot, without the ability to act upon her instincts with the kind of results she wanted. She got in a pair of telling blows to Sherri’s right eye, which was swelling and blackening, but her body punches were easily absorbed by the larger 6-year-old.

A woman, likely the hostess, was spraying the ring from a bottle of Febreze, to control repugnant odors. These ladies loved the sights, but were not as comfortable with the aroma of this kind of action. Jackson realized the origin of the term ‘getting the shit beat out of you.’

In this minor exotic sport for erotic minors, shit production was a definite likelihood, and the hostess was prepared. There was no way she wanted the offensive odor of child excrement to mar the enjoyment of her guests for the thrilling aggressive violence they had come to take pleasure in.

The tempo of the battle intensified, and Jackson’s penis rose in his pants as the nearly naked little girls pummeled each other with vicious kicks and punches. This was the stuff of men’s dreams, men who imagined the fun that took place during recess at a reform school playground.

In a dream everything was possible, and in wet dreams, men had conscious control of what they witnessed. These wet dreamers would imagine that uncaring teachers would not supervise little girls on a reform school playground, and in the video fight, there was no referee anywhere in sight.

It was therefore clear these rude afternoon tea parties must have no rules to be enforced. Certainly the organizers knew about rules and the importance of enforcing them. Having chosen to have none spoke volumes of their caring for these children placed in harm’s way.

There was also no sympathy to be found from the women in the audience, most of them young mothers, who were all screaming encouragement for the combative little girls to wreck more violence on each other. Their mothers had put them here, and were as excited as their friends to see their little beauties doing hurtful harm to each other.

It appeared to Jackson that it was as important to the mothers that their children receive hurtful punches as well as to give them. The little girls were too young to do very serious damage, but they did their best, and the audience at first saw the blows as cute, and edgy, but as the fight developed the women were screaming for more damaging strikes.

The short chain joining their collars kept them within easy striking range, and the brilliance of the design was that the only defense for the naked little girls in the ring was to strike back immediately and hard, sustaining the frenetic tempo of their fierce battle.

Sherri acted like she was in total control, but little Tammy was feisty, and gave her some great blows. The younger girl was definitely not making it easy for the 6-year-old. Her knees were damp with Sherri’s urine from blows to her cuntlet, which was protected by the slim diaper. Sherri’s knee was too high to be effective in the groin of the shorter girl.

The fresh warm stool fell from 5-year-old Tammy’s diaper onto the carpet as she swung wide, missing her target, and she inadvertently stepped on it, with it’s brown muck squeezed up between her toes. ‘Girls will be girls,’ Jackson thought, as he watched the hostess squirting another spray of Febreze onto the freshly-stomped kiddie-muck.

‘Why am I not surprised the production of their poop is an important part of their humiliation in the ring?’ Jackson thought as he enjoyed the mayhem of the stimulating kiddie fight. Their mothers and their friends like to see it mean and dirty, and little girl turds are certainly dirty.

The battered younger tot had involuntarily added what appeared in the video to be unexpected charm to the event by evacuating her colon yet again. The stress of the fight had caused the delightful child to lose her bladder and anal countenance.

She had released both her pee and poop into her loose diaper, and it appeared the mothers and other women in the audience expected, were delighted by and not surprised by the squealing and shrieking child’s ready display of lost continence. The beating the game little girl was taking removed any of her physical restraint.

Of course it was by design these kiddies would likely take a crap while they were being brutally pounded by other naked little girls. That was the sole reason for the partially view-blocking diapers. Properly revealing their ejection of their liquid and solid excrement, and views of their piss-squirting pussies required that the mess-control diapers be pinned on them very loosely.

It was also the reason the event’s hostess had a Febreze spray bottle close at hand. Production of their excrement was an expected reaction. Kiddie shit was a natural part of this kind of raw uncensored contest, accounting for the need for the little girls to be in diapers, even worn so loosely.

“Accidents” happened, particularly with such small children, who were very few years past their potty training, and with the use of diapers, the homeowner hosting the KidFight event hoped to reduce the amount of clean-up of excrement she knew would be necessary when the others had left.

None of the others, all of them paying customers, would help her restore a clean, prim and proper home, not even her paying friends. She was the one who had charged the others to attend, probably making a few thousand for her efforts, as well as getting half of the gambling take. This certainly was definitely not the kind of mess she would want a hired party cleanup company to see.

The spontaneous production of the little girl’s waste delighted the screaming ladies as much as the blood and snot that now came from both battered noses, and tears that streaked their faces. Both girls were continuously crying, and at the same time beginning to display raging anger and attempts at revenge in the flurry of repeated blows they rained on each other, to good effect.

The fight wasn’t over until the game little 5-year-old Tammy had both eyes swollen shut, and was so groggy from punches she was unable to get to her feet when she fell. Sherri threw her hands high in the air. Her thrilled mother unclipped the chain from her collar, and she ran a double victory lap in the small fight ring, losing her loose diaper as she ran.

She had produced a single tight turd during the fight, one that rolled across the ring when her diaper fell off, firm enough that it left no track. She was elated, and was also still frantically sobbing. Her excitement got the better of her, and she experienced an unexpected bowel movement.

When Sherri she stooped to strike the downed Tammy again with her clenched fist, her tight buttocks parted wide, her anus opened, and she produced and dropped a second firm stink log. She ignored the indignity, and continued to pound her fists into the screaming toddler.

When she was done, the now bottomless Sherri kicked the downed Tammy so hard in the chin she knocked the younger kid unconscious. It was unexpected but made the perfect ending for a kiddie fight. The masturbating women that formed the audience were squealing their delight as they experienced raging orgasm.

They loved this kind of powerful ending to a fight between naked little girls. It was clear to Jackson that once a young mother was hooked on this sport, she would be an easy mark for more extensive kiddie battles, fights that promised much more severe outcomes.

‘This really is serious stuff!’ Jackson thought to himself. ‘It could easily be allowed to go so much further. What potential! I see terrific promise here for a profitable new industry, both with these relatively tame erotic kiddie-fight parties, as well as something far more productive, with guaranteed extreme outcomes for the loser.’

He realized such show competitions would have to be conducted in a totally private place, with a vetted audience, a venue where anything was possible. He had the ability, resources and imagination to obtain such a place, both remote and accessible. The ideas were taking shape in his mind as he enjoyed his wife’s secret collection of videos.

He quickly pulled up another video, and then 3 more, putting them up split screen, allowing him to watch them all at once. He brought up each full screen for a moment to examine the audience, and saw his wife in one these as well. In two of the videos, featuring taller, more experienced 8-year-old girls, there were no diapers.

These were fully nude encounters. The young girls’ beautiful cuntlets were on full, unbridled display. There was nothing hidden. On the contrary, their child-like vaginas had been prepared, engorged by stimulation so that they stood open and their inner lips protruded, a sight prudes might find disturbing. Jackson’s penis surged at the sight. His large cock stood at full attention. He was no prude.



. . . . to be continued

 No.6539

CHAPTER 3 – Introduction to D-Ring Casinos


Jackson Avery’s second experience with unbounded sexual violence was quite different, much more sexually stimulating than the castration show he had attended in San Francisco, and firmed his resolve to produce his own such shows. The opportunity to attend this one occurred when he was visiting another long-time client, this one in Chicago, a man with the unlikely name of Billy Dickster.

Billy was receiving a fresh shipment of beautiful 14-year-old Cambodian girls Jackson’s company was transporting for him. Jackson knew better than to ask how they were obtained, or what was to be their fate. However, as in every case, he wanted to ensure there was no trouble with the shipment’s safe arrival.

This consignment was comprised of 4 shipping containers, each of them holding twenty-four properly bound, gagged and well-sedated young girls. These special containers, identified by code, arrived on a small container ship, mixed among a regular consignment of legitimate shipping containers. This was a critical feature of successful shipment of contraband, and one mastered by Jackson Avery’s company.

The entire shipment was marked “bulk grain”. That ensured that nobody would open one in the hopes of finding cameras, TVs or other valuable electronics, items which were always vulnerable to theft. Bulk materials were quite safe, and didn’t attract any attention from the few over-worked customs inspectors. Such shipments’ import papers were always promptly rubber-stamped.

As soon as they were cleared, the containers with the human cargo were loaded aboard Billy’s container trucks for speedy delivery to wherever he took such special merchandise. As soon as the human cargo was retrieved from the containers and revived in satisfactory condition, Billy would hand Jackson a cashier’s check.

Jackson was in the transportation business, and safe, discrete delivery was all that concerned him. The quiet conveyance of human merchandise was what had earned him his reputation in this profitable invisible side of his business, and it was what formed the backbone of his considerable wealth.

“You up for a friendly evening of gambling?” Billy asked him. “There’s a large casino here in Chicago that seems to fly below the radar. It’s one of many such establishments owned by the same chain, around the world. Because of the nature of it’s business,

“I’d guess there are some healthy contributions made to the Mayor, Police Chief and Prosecutor’s re-election funds, and regular healthy transfers to their bank accounts as well. Whatever, they put on some outstanding entertainment for gamblers. This kind of operation cannot thrive without many palms being greased wherever they operate.

“Have you ever heard of D-Ring Casinos? The organization’s been around for nearly 100 years. It started in the United Kingdom, but now is a multinational. They operate around the world in major centers, and have been in Chicago for more than 30 years. They stay in the background for what I’d call obvious reasons. Many have no idea they exist.”

“I’ve heard of them,” Jackson said, “I’d love to join you. I’ve also heard of their specialty, and always intended to get to one of their facilities, but have never made the time. I’ve heard they produce combative sports in which the naked female competitors don’t always survive.

“I understand their adult entertainment is exceptional. I believe not attending before now was a mistake.”

“I’ll pick you up at your hotel at 7. We can have dinner there, with service by delightfully young ladies. You’ll love it.”

Jackson had no idea of the degree of truth in what Billy said. He was impressed as they walked through the opulent lobby of the D-Ring Casino, with plush carpeting across expansive floors and magnificent cut glass chandeliers overhead. Billy pulled open the doors of the main casino, which was not yet in operation for the evening, to give Jackson a preview.

It was impressive. The floor would easily accommodate 2,000 gamblers, with betting stations throughout the area. The ring was very impressive, backed against one wall. It was indeed in the shape of a D, with the straight side, the back of the ring, a Lucite wall, with the curve of the ropes supported by seven regular boxing ring posts.

The canvas was elevated 5 feet, and the floor of the casino was gently sloped in the shape of a half shallow bowl, to ensure all gamblers would have a great view of the competitions from anywhere in the room. The lighting was impressive, as it produced the sense that there was a low ceiling, rather than the expansive high vault he saw.

“The posts are set in firm holes on the platform so that they can be replaced with specialty posts for some events. They range from electrified fences capable of electrocution to posts strung with razor wire to discourage fighters from backing into them. They don’t always have a choice, and some fighters specialize in getting their opponent onto the razor wires, ripping her back so severely she loses blood and steam.”

The casino and particularly the ring was very well conceived and executed. He could imagine the excitement of witnessing a pair of desperate naked and bloodied women fighting for their lives, fully engaged in the heat of battle. Just the thought of it had his penis raging and fighting to get out of his pants. Being here was far more impressive than just hearing about it. He was pleased he had accepted Billy’s invitation.

“Impressive,” Jackson observed.

There were two major doorways other than the two broad entrances to the casino. One was marked The Elite Dining Room, the other Titties Tavern. They entered The Elite, because they had come to eat. It would accommodate about 60, and with the exception of half a dozen tables for 4, all were for couples only.

The hostess was a brunette 16-year-old with long curls and bangs that partially covered her extra long artificial curved eyelashes. She wore open top stiletto-heeled sandals, and a vest that revealed an impressive cleavage for a teenager. She boasted a full set of impressive knockers.

The formal garment had a single button, so that the vest covered only her breasts. It opened above her pierced navel, and tapered back to short tails that hung above her bare buttocks. It was no more than an immodest vest, and was more useful as decoration than as effective cover.

The gorgeous teenager wore no other garments, and displayed no body hair below her slender neck. When she faced them, her open hairless vulva was on full display. She moved so that her stiletto heels clicked on the marble floor. Her shapely buttocks rolled as she walked leading them to their table.

With her pelvis rotated so that her bum was pushed back as she moved, she provided them an excellent view of her anus and open vulva. Jackson was a fan of both portals, and was interested to see how inviting her entries both looked. He wondered about how a customer would arrange for a session with this highly appealing hostess.

A few couples and several singles lined the large curved bar, and several others were already seated when Billy Jackoff and Jackson Avery were seated by the near-naked hostess. Both men had displayed a significant bulge in their pants as she escorted them to their table, and when she departed their eyes were locked on her bare buttocks and amazing legs in the spike stilettos as she walked back to her post.

Just as interesting was the restaurant’s staff of much younger waitresses. They were 11 or 12 years old, and because they had yet to develop breasts, wore padded bras under their vests. This gave the impression they had breasts, when in fact these girls had not yet begun to grow them.

“Chicago has a city ordinance banning topless waitresses when food is served in the establishment. It goes back to the time when jealous boyfriends of waitresses at places like Hooters would show up with a gun and kill a few people, always including their girlfriends.

“Cunt killing was at one time a sport in the City, with a dozen kills a night at the peak. Gangs of youths would require a novice member to become ‘made’ by walking into a bar or restaurant and shooting a waitress. Gang members would patronize the place to be able to confirm a kill.

It was like sport, but there were enough eager well-endowed young women looking for work, the establishments found that they were easily replaceable, and police were more interested in drive-by shootings, where there was a bit more collateral damage of innocent bystanders.

“What made that bylaw ludicrous was that Hooters waitresses never worked topless. Some bureaucrat with a tire iron stuffed up his ass who had never attended a Hooters, assumed it was bare breasts that were at the root of the problem. Now we have food and bar service rules in the city that make it illegal for a serving woman to show her tits.

Fortunately, the city council has never addressed the issue of serving girls showing us their bare cunts. Food and drink establishment owners assumed it was illegal, and so it has never come up. D-Ring Inc. will never mention it as long as the City looks the other way. So cunts are in, tits are covered.”

“I can live with that,” Jackson said. He was aware of a curious light tinkling sound that persisted throughout the dining room. He couldn’t identify the source, but it seemed to come from everywhere. “I’m rather surprised to see girls this young working here, though, nearly naked and flashing their pretty little pussies at us while they strut around in those sexy high heel stilettos.”

“No problem there,” Billy grinned, “the City considers this to be a private club. “D-Ring just needs the mother to sign a permission slip in order for her daughter to work in a room that serves alcohol. The by-law mentions nothing about what the costume has to cover, regardless of the age of her kid.

Titties, next door, is quite a different proposition, because no food is served, just drinks. The girls there are 12 plus, and have to have a set of tits before they can start there. All there wear is the stilettos and a leather collar. When girls here qualify, they graduate to Titties Tavern.

They stimulate the teen girls into lactating, because the feature drink in Titties is an Irish coffee, with mothers’ milk squirted into the drinks right at the table. As I said, both the City and State considers this to be a private club, which none the less falls under the no bare tits in restaurants rule. Don’t you love the American way?”

“D-Ring has a foolproof system laid out for obtaining a parent’s signature. They give the young mothers $200 in coins for free, and when they lose that they lend them another $500 that will have to be paid back, and then get them addicted to the slot machines. The slots manager always allows them to run up an outrageous debt, which is a critical part of their well-designed coercion process.

“They then give them more and more in loans, and when it gets far beyond their ability to pay them back, forgive whatever is owed when the distraught women put their signature on whatever papers and release forms the casino’s recruiters and lawyers put in front of them.”

“Ha!” Jackson was impressed with what his friend Billy was telling him. “The young women’s gambling addiction forces special sex education on their delightful young daughters! Ingenious! Does D-Ring take full possession of these young girls, or do they still live at home?”

“No, they live at home. Mothers are fully controlled by the Corporation once they sign those release forms. Also, they’re still addicted, and are encouraged to continue to hit the slots. They all do, digging themselves in deeper. There are further layers of releases to sign, with each giving up more, and there is no escape provided for them.

“Both the young daughter and the mother become chattel of D-Ring, fully the property of the Corporation with absolutely no rights, human or otherwise. It’s slick as a whistle. The girls are property, nothing more. The corporation can use the young mothers and their daughters in any way they wish, wherever in the world they wish.

“What’s better is they prepare a trail that indicates they have moved to another state, and they simply disappear off the face of the earth. That means D-Ring can impose any punishment it wants upon the kids, including entering them in some violent preliminary bouts.

“The corporation doesn’t restrict intake to 11-year-olds, but that’s a common age for entry. They also get kids and their moms into the system as early as the age of 6, and then have the time to test their abilities and likelihood of success in various roles, and then train the shit out of them.

“Eventually, which is sometimes as soon as within a few weeks, the delightful little girls will become full wards of D-Ring Inc. and when they’re in deep enough, with an un-repayable debt, the beautiful young gambling-addicted mothers will actually sign on to become nude fighters for the organization. That’s a guarantee of death within months, possibly weeks.

“The spiral of the deepening vortex is in full swing, and is already well beyond the escape point, even before the young serving girls begin to work. The key is that the mother is so addicted to gambling that she just won’t stop. She’ll actually sign away her daughter’s life and her own without realizing what she’s doing, to satisfy her addiction.

“As things normally go, and things always go in ways that the clients, not the participants, wish, neither this innocent young girl nor her mother will likely live to see the end of the year. Both will, by the design of the workflow, become D-Ring fighters, which is always a death sentence. Their violent deaths in the ring will be for the entertainment of the casino’s clients. That’s the greatness of D-Ring Inc.”

Just then a young waitress being discussed came to their table to take their drink orders. Her feet were purposefully parted, allowing full view of the tiny rings piercing her inner lips, from which fine chains hung, holding little brass bells that tinkled as she walked.

All of the young girls wore them, accounting for the persistent sound. It was a very pleasant light din, filling the room and yet not disruptive. When it was a bit louder, or when one stood out from the rest of the bells, the slightly increasing tinkle announced the approach of a pre-teen girl wearing the bells from her nether-lips.

Their 11-year-old waitress left menus with them, and when she returned with their drinks, she took their orders. Jackson took the opportunity to admire her beautifully displayed vulva. It had a ring through her clitoral hood, holding her erect little external gonad elevated, poking out from under it’s hood, standing like a tiny penis.

Jackson correctly assumed that before she began her shift, the child’s vagina had been stimulated to increase it’s impressive presentation to guests. Seeing the attention her pretty little cunt was drawing by these two men, the knowledgeable girl rotated her pelvis to improve its presentation, as an invitation to them to touch her.

Without hesitation Jackson accepted the invitation, and after flicking the small ring through her clitoris, he slid his middle finger down along the ridge of her slightly distended lips, and then slid it into the vestibule to discover if she had retained her hymen.

He found virginity was intact, with the tight internal hymen membrane blocking the entry to her future cock-holster. She smiled at the unexpected gentleness of his tender exploration of her no longer privates. Most customers were much rougher, and threatened her maidenhood when they touched her.

“That’s a lovely cunt you have, sweetheart,” he said to her, and placed his order. Billy reached over and slid his finger into her vestibule, and pulling it away, turned his hand upward to inspect the female genital moisture it had collected. He stuck his finger into his mouth to taste her sweet dampness and suck his finger clean.

“Have a taste, Jackson,” he said, “These little ladies are certified disease-free. Nobody gets a cock near them, and they’re fully inspected before each shift. Her cunt’s as clean as a whistle, guaranteed. And I’ve got to say, she tastes as good as any as I’ve had the pleasure to sample.”

Jackson’s hand returned to the pretty young girl’s vagina, and on impulse he slid it back to her rectum, pressing the middle finger into her just to the first knuckle, occupying only the tight sphincter ring of her anus. He was impressed at how warm and moist she felt inside. He had forgotten how inviting such a young girl’s anus could be.

She yelped before she regained control, and when he brought his finger forward again he slid it through her damp vestibule to thoroughly clean it in the moist opening of her cunt. Her bum hole had been pre-flushed, but he knew that one could never be too careful.

He brought his finger to his face, sniffed its fresh aroma, and then placed it into his mouth. While he tasted her inner juices, his eyes roamed her beautiful shapely body. Up close she was smaller than he would have thought. Being slender and wearing the spike heels, the beautiful 11-year-old appeared to be taller than she was.

With her lower body bare from the high heels to right up above her waist, and her round bum standing out regardless of her posture, she was much more than an intriguing piece of eye candy. She, and all the rest of these well-recruited and trained young girls were highly erotic decoration.

Their exotically sexy costume was an in-your-face statement that D-Ring Casinos were all about bare cunt. These casinos were designed to satisfy the deepening expectations of people whose tastes had grown well beyond basic nude strip clubs, live sex shows and the underground fight bars.

It was in such establishments where working-class customers who drank too much encouraged their wives or girlfriends to strip naked and fight each other. It was informal sport, and made for a great night of erotic entertainment. The winner’s husband or boyfriend would get to fuck the loser on top of the bar in front of everyone.

Sometimes these fights got out of hand, with a drunken audience sometimes refusing to allow the fight to end. It was not unusual in tougher neighborhoods for a nude girl, sitting with her cunt pressed against a downed girls belly, being handed the neck of a broken whisky bottle, the bottom smashed off, to bring the night’s battle to a permanent end. A kill was acceptable where the audience accepted it. Most did.

When this happened, with a girl’s face, breasts and throat badly slashed, the mess was considerable. It was not uncommon for a winner to take the bottle to the belly of her screaming downed opponent, ripping her open. When this happened, live evisceration always followed.

A waste disposal company had a special unit, which offered discrete cleanup and removal of demolished female carcasses and gore. The disposal company hired only attractive female workers, whose silence was ensured when, after just 2 weeks of work, they were sold to D-Ring’s recruiters.

Because of the nature of its business, turnover was very high, and D-Ring Inc. was always seeking fresh new fighting stock. These unfortunate beauties became permanent wards (a euphemism for slaves) of D-Ring, and were trained with the organization’s other novice recruits.

Winners of the bar fights were always redirected to begin a new career at the D-Ring Casino. Most did not meet the high bar for beauty of form and face. These were consigned as trainers, to go before a small audience into the ring with her arms bound behind her, and used to train a promising young novice how to kill.

Some of these blue-collar working-class girls would go naked into the casino’s secret animal pit, where large predator cats, bears, alligators, hyenas and a giant anaconda snake were entertainingly fed for the amusement of special guests. Although a vegetarian, a wild bull loved to gore naked girls, and got to do so at least weekly.

The entertainment at D-Ring always started with blatant cunt displays, often featuring under-aged girls, and ended with the violent deaths of nude young women. That was what the casino’s gambling clients wanted, and it was what D-Ring Inc. specialized in providing.

D-Ring’s product was for discerning customers who craved the kind of raw naked violence they dished out every night. People who could not stomach watching a young woman being beaten to death did not attend. This sport was designed for Americans with extreme tastes in raw violence, and it always delivered handsomely.

“There’s a specialty of the house I think you might enjoy,” Billy said, “one that needs to be pre-ordered, because it takes a bit of time to be ready, and I took the liberty to order one for you. I expect you’ll enjoy it. I’d tell you how it’s made and served, but that would ruin the surprise.”

“That was very kind of you,” Jackson replied as their young waitress departed to take care of other customers. They talked about some of the remarkable nude female fights Billy had seen, some of them armed battles, their shockingly final outcomes, and at that point their soup arrived. It proved to be excellent.


CHAPTER 4 – Amber Wine


“The specialty I ordered is warm amber wine. It’s a pinot blanc from Burgundy, and it’s presented, well, you’ll see.” The empty soup bowls were cleared, and their salad arrived promptly. It was as good as the soup, with an olive oil and balsamic vinegar dressing. Jackson could not help but watch the young serving girls in their minimal highly revealing costumes, and his penis stood at attention each time they passed.

The main course of their meal was beautifully presented sea bass, and behind the waiters who delivered the food were two young waitresses, including the one who had served them. They each held a medium sized wine glass, the size usually used for white wine. They handed them to the gentlemen at the table, both girls smiling broadly.
	

Billy held his glass forward toward the groin of the waitress nearest him. She spread her knees, moved her vagina over it, and used her fingers to spread her vestibule open. This provided free access to her urethra, and a clear path for the ensuing golden stream. Within seconds she began urinating into his glass.

Their first young waitress repeated the process for Jackson, who held his glass forward and received the offering from her bladder. When the flow stopped, she used a small napkin to wipe extra drops from her vagina and the obscenely presented 11-year-old girls asked if the gentlemen would require a refill. Billy replied in the affirmative.

“Advance notice was required because the girls emptied their bladders and were then both catheter-loaded with the wine. They’ve been walking about feeling like they needed to piss ever since we arrived. Since then, their own natural product has gradually been added to the wine, giving it a unique flavor.”

“Holy shit,” Jackson said, “this is amazing! A client once sent his 18-year-old daughter and 6-year-old granddaughter to my hotel room, and the daughter, used to this kind of assignment, permitted me to suck her little girl’s cunnie while I fucked her. When I started to shoot my goo into the mother, the little girl peed straight into my mouth.”

“How did you like it” Billy asked.

“It was a surprise, but quite tasty. I sampled a direct shot of the mother’s piss, also straight from her cunt, but I preferred the kid’s.”

“Try this. Bladder warmed wine, augmented by urine. It’s quite refreshing.”

As the men tasted the supplemented warm wine, the girls returned with a bottle of wine and a catheter with a large rubber bladder attached. They filled the rubber ball with half of the wine from the bottle, and then, one at a time, inserted the catheter into their own urethra, displaying the process to the men, and squeezed the cooled white wine from the rubber bladder into their own.

Their waitress was second to fill her bladder, and when she pulled the shared catheter free, the girls shared the remaining wine in the bottle as well. She smiled at them and promised to process the wine they just drank before returning.

“It will take about an hour to process,” she said. “Enjoy your meal, gentlemen!”

“What a sweet, naughty young lady,” Jackson commented. They’ve trained her well.”

“The San Francisco children are quite trainable,” Billy observed as he cut into his fish, “and the Casino has to date used a few hundred of them quite successfully. They are at the moment quite limited in how they can use them within the casino, but as you can see, they add value to the dining experience.”

“Why an hour?” Jackson asked. “In that time her kidneys can process that wine and add as much as 50% urine to the mix in her bladder.”

“Precisely,” Billy answered. “That’s the point. Once you’ve finished this glass, you’ll be used to the light urine taste in the wine, and can manage much more of the young ladies’ tasty essence. When they drink the same wine with which it will be mixed, their urine is light and quite delicious.”

“You mentioned these girls are all 11 or 12. What about when they turn 13?”

“By then they start to grow breasts, and are moved over to the mattresses. The casino has a viable prostitution operation at each casino. You wouldn’t believe how the nude fights elevate the sex drive for the gamblers, and often they have to let off steam. There’s nothing better than a frenzied tussle with an expert whore to satisfy that drive.

“The term ‘mattresses’ is figurative. The kids trained to fuck D-Ring clients work in quite opulent bedrooms, not unlike the penthouses of a fine hotel. ‘Mattresses’ is the name for the child prostitution suites in all of the operation’s casinos around the world.

“Although they feature girls 13 to 15, a great age range for girls eager to please raging cocks, often when a younger girl develops her breasts early, she is trained in the erotic arts of sucking and fucking clients, and is then moved up to serve on the mattresses.

“I have to tell you, I have no problem putting the rocks to kids. Having a cuddly naked little girl lying with you in your bed is fantastic, something you’ll never forget. If you’ve never tried it, you should. Once properly trained they always give amazing sex, and have no idea who you are, so they are never able to come back and bite you.

A buddy of mine has an operation set up on the top three floors of an adults-only condominium downtown. He takes in street kids, or ‘borrows’ them from homeless single mothers, cleans them up and trains them, and for $500 you can fuck kids seven to ten years old.

“That’s not all. For $2,500 he’ll set up a client to off a kid in his special dungeon room, everything provided. I get there at least once a month, but I’ve never done a kid. I’m not into that. Let the little cunts do each other. Offing a kid is a bad ass thing to do, but interesting. I’ve never done it, but I’ve paid to watch a few times.

“One of the best fucks I ever had was with the youngest girl to ever work as a whore here, a startlingly pretty 7-year-old Ethiopian girl from a primitive village in the Omo Valley. She was black as coal, had nice budding little nipples, and of course no titties, and did the most erotic dance to get me going I’d ever seen.

“My dick was already standing at attention when she got her tender little mouth over its head, and her tiny fists pumping the base of my dick almost had me shooting. Then she got into bed with me, and I swear to God, fucked like a fucking mink. She proved to be insatiable.

She got me to cum four times in an hour. That’s my personal record. She got my fucking balls aching from over-production. I’ve never been so turned on by any gorgeous whore I’ve ever done. I was in agony for hours afterwards, but it was definitely worth it.”


CHAPTER 5 – Doing Serious Damage


Sitting back in the comfortable chair in his wife’s den, Jackson pulled out his erection, to have it handy should his enjoyment make this useful or necessary. One video in particular on his wife’s computer caught Jackson’s attention, because of the outstanding beauty of the athletic 8-year-old girls with their slender shapely hips and the clean split mound of their exposed vaginas.

These highly attractive little girls were potential grade 3 beauty queens, and just looking at them had Jackson’s penis standing at attention, reaching out of his pants. These two contestants were very well selected, as were most of the others. Somebody in the organization that produced these shows was doing something right.

This was also more serious fare with these older little girls. In one video Jackson could see there were the tiny sharp points of thumbtacks sticking up through the tape on their fists. The girls also had tape around their feet, and there were sharp points of tiny thumbtacks sticking up on the top of their feet too. This bout was likely going to be very bloody.

He pulled this one up to full screen, closing the other files. These beautiful older children, about age 8 so they would be in grade 3, were completely nude, and Jackson was quite pleased these lovely little girls were minus the genital-obscuring diapers. Stark naked, their delightful cuntlets were on full display, and their groins were offered no protection by the bulky cloth of a diaper.

They were tanned, and there were no tan lines of a bikini. Their mothers had prepared them well for this nude encounter for a live audience and video recording. Jackson was sure there were many places in American urban centers where young women could have their 8-year-old daughters frolic naked in the sun.

It was the best way to get them ready for this kind of nude presentation. They would also have to train them to be effective and hopefully damaging fighters. He could imagine them in dingy boxing clubs being trained by over-the-hill boxers and wrestlers to be competent fighters. With the moral standards to be found in such places, the athletic little girls would likely train naked.

This mini fight ring was set up in a 3-car garage, to reduce staining of the beautifully finished interior of the home, and it was clear the fight was designed to be much more damaging to the young participants than the first videos he’d watched. A mess was a certainty. The 30 excited women in the audience (he checked and Martha was not among them) were in bikinis, and Jackson understood why.

These women were planning to be up close to the ring, and would be exposed to getting blood splatters from the lovely 8-year-old competitors if things got as wild as both he and they hoped they would. Those thumb tacks were capable of digging deep scratches in the tender flesh of these little girls.

It was a reasonable precaution, and also afforded viewers of the video the chance to see the quality of the figures of the women who made up the audience. Once the girls got going in their speed-enhanced battle, the frenzy of their fighting would ensure blood would be splattered around.

The women in the audience were mostly young, fit, shapely and physically desirable. Even the grandmothers present, few much older than 50, kept themselves in very good shape, and were as enthused about what was going on in the ring as the younger enthusiasts. Jackson was certain they would all be actively masturbating as the fight got rough, as he was certain it would.

He knew that young girls developed at a very early age the desire to hurt other girls they didn’t like so much they would remember for a long time who had hurt them. This need endured into adulthood, which was why female fighters were so ferocious.

Outside the garage door, which was still open, there was visible a large swimming pool. The women were obviously protecting their expensive dresses from expected blood splatter, and they could jump into the pool later to clean off any kiddie blood from their mostly-bare bodies, no damage done.

The lithe young girls appeared to be highly agitated, with good reason, and Jackson quickly surmised they were both high on speed. This was going to be a very interesting contest, and quite different from the one he had watched moments ago with the younger battling little girls.

With 8 years of growth, these two grade 3 girls had reached the age that their figures, even without breasts, were beginning to look interesting, with curved hips, gently rounded tummies, thighs and calves, and with developing muscles from young girl activities that strained as they stood raised, straining on their tiny tip-toes.

They were outstanding young cock teasers, and Jackson now realized that women found them just as sexually stimulating as he did. He was no psychologist, but was getting a handle on the kind of things that turned on women. The crowds were made up of different women on each tape he had looked at, and there were a lot of highly excited females in the few videos he’d seen. That meant there were likely thousands of wealthy ladies who would find this a satisfying pastime.

Jackson had always admired the enticing form of growing girls, and these great little bodies of the charming 8-year-olds were on full display. Putting naked little girls into combat was a brilliant idea, rich in possibilities. These grade 3 girls had no neck chain to hold them together, as the younger girls had, although they did wear serious-looking d-ringed and studded collars on their necks.

With their potent armament, these youngsters were more interested in doing damage to places the little girls had seldom visited. Both were convinced their best chance at winning was to do extensive damage to the exposed vagina of her opponent. Each young girl had her eyes locked on the other girl’s cunt.

A woman held up a large brass bell and struck it with a metal mallet. The fight was on! The girls moved purposefully toward each other, leaning slightly forward with their arms securely bound behind them, and simultaneously each gave a vicious kick to the other girl’s cunt.

Both connected, and both screamed with the violent contact. Jackson Avery’s penis leaped in his pants, and moved the video into high speed, eager to see how this one ended. He was surprised at how long it went on. Just past the 7-minute point one of the girls fell hard, and Jackson hit normal play.

Both girls had swollen vulvas, and tiny puncture wounds and bleeding scratches on their bare pubic mounds, thighs, tight tummies and cheeks. Both girls’ noses were bleeding, one profusely, and both had blood smeared from abrasions and small cuts on their ribs as well as where one day breasts would grow. Even their pretty round buttocks were scratched and scraped from well-placed damaging kicks.

At normal speed, he could see that both of the youngsters had urinated during the first part of the frenetic fight. This was the kind of detail he savored, and which was not visible at high speed. The cement floor was slick with their piss, which would tidy up nicely with a hosing down.

The downed girl took hard kicks to her head and cunt, but she gamely sprang back up to her feet, and when the punching and kicking resumed, Jackson again hit high speed. At the 25 minute mark both girls were sitting on the floor in their own mess, too exhausted to continue.

They had both substantially messed up, literally. In heat of the violent battle the naked young combatants had passed both liquid and solid waste, having simply beaten the shit out of each other. There was no clear winner, but that did not seem to concern the women. A garden hose would easily wash their offal down the drain of the garage’s cement floor, leaving no sign of their momentary stinky indiscretion.

Jackson checked a second video in this folder, and this one was set in a living room again, with the mandatory cover over the expensive carpet. This cover was stretched canvas, held in place by lead weights on each corner. The first thing Jackson noticed that was different was that there were 4 large batteries in use instead of the usual one.

Together this heavy-duty power supply was capable of putting out a very high level electric shock on a sustained basis, easily enough to cook the meat of a girl if she was locked to it in protracted contact. It also had the power to burn her badly if she remained in contact for even a short period of time. They might as well have used razor wire for the fencing.

The electric fence forming the ring was going to at the very least give whichever girl leaned or bumped into it a significant and very unpleasant jolt. Jackson wondered if these little girls would have the ability to get themselves off contact with a hot line, as the current would cause their muscles to quiver, and not respond normally, or perhaps, with sufficient current, not at all.

The mothers were obviously quite serious about making this a very hurtful experience for their daughters. The children who would fight had yet to discover this. A title came up on the screen that Jackson didn’t immediately understand. It read “Pepper Fight”. That meant nothing to him, but he was sure it would be explained by what followed.

Two very pretty slender eight-year-old girls, a blonde and a brunette, were lifted into the ring. They too wore no diapers. Their cuntlets were swollen and open, reddened by what must have been some kind of strong irritant. Their forearms were bound tightly behind their backs, wrists to elbows.

This was to be a brutal kick fight, between two grade 3 girls, carefully prepared by their aggressive mothers, most likely with their sweet-looking swollen cuntlets as the prime targets. This fight promised to be nasty stuff. Keeping their balance with their arms bound and out of services was going to be a challenge for them.

A swift kick to the cunt properly placed could give a significant jolt the young girl’s immature gonads deep inside her. Unlike all other fighting little girls Jackson had seen on the videos, in which all of them were barefoot, these two wore perfectly fitting high heel shoes. The feet of both girls were small, and he was sure the expensive looking shoes had been custom made for them.

The toes went to an extended sharp metal-capped point, and were cut low enough on top that they revealed half an inch of the space between the lovely girls’ toes. These were true ‘fuck me’ spikes, sexy as hell, and these pretty young kids were about to seriously fuck each other’s meat with them.

Their mothers, acting as their trainers and wearing rubber gloves, carried a plastic container with cut slices of red peppers. They had the girls spread their legs, and they rubbed the juicy pepper slices against the youngsters’ bare cuntlets, causing them to redden and swell even further open as the natural acid coated the delicate porous membrane that lined their swollen heat-gaping cuntlets.

Jackson surmised from the condition of their open cuntlets that they had both received an earlier similar treatment, and now were getting the last minute enhancement for the pleasure of observers. Jackson’s penis was out, and was rigid as he slowly stroked it. There was no doubt he was enjoying what he was seeing. Any man thinking he was lucky and sticking his bare penis into either of those red little girl cuntlets would be in for a burning surprise.

The mothers quickly left the ring, and without prompting, the two experienced young schoolgirls, their arms tightly bound behind their backs, got at it. With fire blazing in their eyes and their open cuntlets, neither was going to play nice. As expected, the first targets for vicious kicks with the wicked pointed toe high heels were their puffy red gaping cuntlets

Already the women in the audience were shrilly screaming encouragement. With their hand under their skirts or inside their pants, they were all shamelessly masturbating. The most excited and vocal of all were the girls’ mothers, who now had buggy whips, and were urging their girls on with malicious lashes to their arm-bound bodies.

Confirming Jackson’s estimate, they both appeared to be more interested in seeing their delicate little girls being hurt than seeing them win. As in the other videos Jackson had seen, the mothers were both carrying cattle prods, and looked like they were prepared to use them. The naked children were wide-eyed as they realized their mothers would not hesitate in using the cruel devices on them.

In polite society women do not scold or punish their daughters in public. This was neither public nor polite society. These women were following their basest instincts, animalistic and vitriolic in their passion for hurt, damage and injury to their lovely naked young daughters. The girls were actively playing their part in satisfying all of the horny and screaming female spectators.

Most surprising of all was the extent to which the young girls were into it. The grade 3 girls were kicking with extreme, sadistic ferocity. Both displayed full intent to injure their pretty, shrilly screaming rival. Each was fully committed to doing extensive damage to the other’s naked body, using her only attire, the sexy and very dangerous spike heeled shoes, now used as very effective weapons.

The brunette girl took a vicious kick to the stomach, with both the toe and heel of the shoe of her blonde opponent breaking skin and digging in. The blow drove her back into the wire, with her shoulder blades against the upper wire and her buttocks on the lower.

She landed with her knees bent and widespread. The stout hot lower wire supported her hips as it delivered a series of sharp pulsing intolerable electric shocks. The girl quivered with the jolts of electricity coursing through her, and was unable to summon the strength to get up.

The brunette’s pelvis was rotated in this position, and the blonde quickly took advantage of her foe’s nicely presented cunt, and she kicked her shoe at it with all her might. Her aim was perfect, and the front of the shoe drove deep into the exposed cunt. The force of the kick was enough to securely jam the shoe inside her vagina.

The blonde felt the shock the other girl was experiencing through her cunt-jammed foot, although not as powerfully as the girl spread on the wires. She quickly attempted to jerk her foot back, but it was wedged in tight. Her only recourse was to bend forward and slip the heel strap off, allowing her foot to be pulled loose.

Now she did as she had apparently been instructed to do. As winner, she got to further humiliate her fallen opponent. She spread her feet, only one of them now housed in a shoe, and positioning herself carefully, let loose a stream of urine onto her defeated foe’s face, the warm fountain of her pee entering the brunette’s screaming mouth, and then directing her spray to the completely defeated girl’s upper body.

The jet of warm urine did precisely what she had intended, but what she hadn’t counted on was that her stream of piss onto the girl on the electric wires formed a bridge, a perfect conductor, and through it she received a startling zap to her cunt and on up into her bladder. The blonde child had no experience with electricity or electrolytes. Her own piss led the electrical charge directly to her cunt.

She leaped away from the downed brunette girl, ending too late the sudden painful flow of electricity to her genitals. She couldn’t believe how much that shock had stung her pissing pussy. She had felt the jolt right up into her bladder and to the deepest recess of her gonads. The lesson was one she would remember the next time she fought in an electrified ring.

The pretty little blonde had won, but the visibly quivering little brunette was still being severely punished on the electric wires. Instead of disconnecting the group of batteries to give her much needed relief, the two mothers used their buggy whips on her, lashing at her quivering body.

The electrical punishment she was receiving superseded their effect, and when that didn’t work, they produced the cattle prods and gave her a sustained series of severe jolts to her battered face and breasts. Jackson was delighted to see the relish with which the mothers cruelly punished one of their distraught daughters. They displayed no interest in relieving her agony.

They continued zapping her with the powerful prods until the spasms of her body forced her to fall off the wires, with visible red wire burns on her back and blackened marks on her buttocks from deeper burns, where it appeared the lower wire had actually cooked some of her tender meat. That burn would leave a permanent scar on both of her buttocks.

These livid wire burns complimented the angry whip welts that marked both young girls’ naked bodies. They were by design, to make the effect of the fight more stimulating for the ladies, and as a permanent reminder of their experience for the combative little girls. Jackson understood that this was highly serious sport for the ladies and their kids.



. . . to be continued

 No.6546

CHAPTER 6 – Cunts on Display


Billy went back to his drink. To set the mood for upcoming combat action in the Casino, the entertainment in the dining room was a pair of generously oiled voluptuous, large breasted nudes, clothed only stiletto heels and a red velvet collar. The shameless large breasted bitches wore large strapless dildos anchored with broad plastic lumps, deep in their bare cunts, so that they looked like a pair of shemales.

These ladies had amazing legs, their appearance amplified by their spike heels. They wrestled on an eight-foot-square stage, elevated 5 feet above the dining room floor, providing a good view from all angles. The beautiful tall shorthaired blondes were not earnestly fighting or attempting to hurt each other seriously. Their gorgeous bodies were amazing, and the two friends had an exceptional view of them.

When the nude beauties were down on the matt, their shapely legs terminating in amazing stilettos frequently extended over the edge of the small platform, which had no restraining ropes to keep them from falling off. Their large bare breasts spread obscenely when pressed against the matt or against each other as they struggled, their nipples stiff and pointing.

Instead of a deliberate fight, the pair provided the diners an erotic demonstration of erogenous sexy wrestling holds, and also how to get another woman into position for rectal mounting, their flared cunts on full display below the bulging ring of their rectums, and in this case took turns drilling each other like studs butt-fucking reluctant whores.

It was a charming distraction, but hardly enough to hold the guests’ attention, knowing the real battles that were to follow in the Casino’s spectacular D-Ring. This was just a teaser, to set the mood for the violent carnage the guests would witness and wager on in a couple of hours.

When their delicious meal was completed and the table cleared, they enjoyed a dessert of ice cream with fresh berries, coffee, liquors and cigars. Both men were relaxed, enjoying the pleasant ambience provided by the naked girls and performing nude women.

The hour passed quickly for them, and the young girls, naked from their ribs on down, their stiletto’s clicking on the marble floor, returned with a fresh pair of wine glasses. Jackson said he thought the pre-teen waitresses looked even more nude, if that were possible, and he gave an affectionate tug to the bells that dangled from their waitress’s vagina lips.

The youngsters handed the glasses to the men, then moved close with their fingers spreading their hairless vaginas, exposing their urethras, and urinated more of their warm wine and piss blend for the men. They tasted it, and Jackson was surprised that the girls were right; the wine and urine mix was not at all strong.

Due to the longer time to mix in their bladders, the essence of pee was stronger now, but with the conditioning of the first glass, Billy and Jackson agreed it tasted delicious. This time there was more girl, less grape. Who would have thought piss from 11-year-old girls and white wine could taste good? Once more, D-Ring had a surprising winner.

When the glasses were more than half empty, the patiently waiting girls refilled them, and then departed. “Those pretty young cunts were very happy to get that load out of their bladders,” Billy said, “It must drive them crazy having to hold it for so long.”

“Thank God it’s them that carry that bladder-full. This is all about our enjoyment, not their comfort. You really believe they won’t live for a year?” Jackson asked. “They’re so young and beautiful, with such a potentially bright future in this business. I’d love to see them being killed.”

“Sometimes I exaggerate,” Billy admitted. “Their mothers, probably at the slot machines as I speak, will certainly die in the fight ring before the year is out. The kids have to be 14 before they can go into the ring, and they must have a loincloth or something, even if it just hangs down in front, covering their cunts when they fight, until they’re 16, an age they’re unlikely to reach.

“That’s why the girls with loincloths are told the first thing they have to do when the fight starts is to get their opponent naked by ripping off their loincloths. The gamblers always spend and wager a lot more when kiddie cunts are on display. That’s understandable.

“I used to think it was a gender thing, but apparently the women gamblers wager more as well when there are kiddie cunts on display. Women also like to see the kiddies pissing. The girls’ work in the dining room has taught these young ladies the importance and value of showing clients their bare naked cunts.

“I hear D-Ring is planning on putting an addition onto the mattresses, a private section where little kids will be available for those who want to fuck them. You wouldn’t believe it, but a lot of gamblers like to fuck little girls. At least the guys do. Kiddie cunts are big sellers.

“Within the next year or so that fight ring age limit could come down to 12, making these girls eligible for ring service, and I’ve heard the groin-cover requirement may also be tossed out, with the effective lobbying the D-Ring lawyers do. That will mean the young girls can come out buck naked, making them legitimate cunt-fighters.

“Those D-Ring lawyer guys are very persuasive in the halls of power, worldwide, and they effectively grease the right palms with bribes in the process, locking in their support. In SE Asia I saw half a dozen 7-year-old kiddies in a Lucite ring, stark naked and armed with the cutest little pistols you ever saw!

“The tiny lead bullets sunk into their meat, but all of them took about 20 hits before some started to drop. When there was only one left standing, most of the others were squirming and screaming on the canvas. The MC gave the winner a bigger pistol, and she had to put a slug into the temple of all of the others, blowing their brains out.

“I mean, could you have imagined the City of Chicago as little as five years ago, allowing for young women to fight nude, even adults, with the only acceptable outcome that one of them kill the other? I mean of course that happened frequently in bars, and at best those fights were only semi-organized. Now look at the state of things!

“But to have a fully licensed high class casino in which nude death fights between women were the norm? D-Ring has made amazing strides in developing a successful operation of this kind in Chicago, and there’s much more to come, relatively soon, if they get their way. I’ve got to tell you, I’m impressed, and so are the people who come out so often to support this lucrative operation.

“D-Ring Inc. is one of the most progressive companies in the world, and you won’t believe it, but where they can get away with it, they’ve also got outrageous death games for naked little girls in their SE Asia, South America and in a couple of their casinos in Eastern Europe. With graft the way business and politics are done, there is no rule of law for the casinos in those regions. There you can see 10-year-old little girls engage in team gang fights, with the objective of killing the designated target girl on the other team.”

“That’s amazing,” Jackson said, enjoying his warm wine. “I’d never have guessed it. What an incredible money-maker that must be.”

“It’s absolutely outstanding,” Billy said, “I’ve done very well with it. I’ve got a couple thousand shares in D-Ring Inc. They never pay dividends, they just keep splitting the stock, and the value just keeps on going up. I could sell them in a minute, but I’d miss out on the next stock split.

I bought 500 shares at $2,000 and at the moment, they’re worth more than $3,200 each, even after 4 stock splits! Without spending another penny, I now have 8,000 shares, at the increased value! No shit! That means my investment of $1 million is now worth more than $25 million!”

Jackson grinned. “I could use some blood money myself. Where is it listed?”

“I can set you up tomorrow through my broker. Shit like this is not on any of the regular exchanges.”

“Thanks, Billy,” Jackson responded as they got up to move into the casino. “I’m always looking for creative ways to expand my portfolio, and this looks like a winner.”

As they left the dining room, Billy said, “if you’re looking at ways to grow your business as well, you might consider a big expansion, like contracting with D-Ring for the transportation of their livestock. They do it now, and are nervous it exposes the entire organization because of a necessary activity that they’d like to have at arms length.”

“I could help with that. Can you put me in touch?”

“Not a problem,” Billy said, “I’m amazed at your shipping capability, and how reliable your service is. I’m sure D-Ring will be as well.”

Entering the casino they saw they were early enough that a hostess was able to find them a prime table. A 14-year-old waitress, wearing only spike heels, a pony tail and spiked leather collar took their order and promptly brought them drinks.

They saw about 80 other young girls in similar attire, which was virtually none, waiting for customers to arrive who they could serve. None of these was over 14, but several looked to be a young as 11. What they had in common was each of them had an extraordinary set of legs, highlighted in the very high heels they wore.

There was too much sound and volume to the room to permit the tinkling of bells dangling from the girls’ cunts to be audible, so there were none. Instead all of the young waitresses wore a large jeweled brass ring piercing their left labia. Jackson wondered if there was a practical use for these, or if they were strictly decorative.

The sparkling rings did add beauty to the girls’ cleanly plucked or shaved cunts. There was no doubt that they had arrived in cunt cuntry. The young women who would fight before the crowd in the infamous D-Ring would do so in the nude so that they could also display their naked vaginas.

Jackson was certain that several of the beautiful combat-flared vulvas would be damaged in the heat of battle in the D-Ring. Women were lucky that their gonads were safely stored well inside their bodies, not nearly as vulnerable as the testicles of a man who fought naked.

He understood that cockfights between naked men were common in the Far East, and that they usually resulted at the very least in the total loss of any reproductive capability. The Oriental audiences preferred to see an erect penis rather than testicles severed.

Men were popular used as waiters in the Orient, and Billy told Jackson he had seen naked men as well as nude girls serving in the casino’s bars and restaurants. Like the girls, they wore spike heels, and displayed a large full scrotum but had no penis. That was how things were done in D-Ring’s SE Asian casinos.

Having their testicles intact left the waiters more vulnerable to cruel punishment. In the more extreme fights, in addition to penile castration, the audiences required to see the losing male fighter’s exposed testicles crushed, his belly opened and his intestines spilled as well.

Jackson wondered if males fought in the ring in these casinos, as had the men he had seen fight in San Francisco. A man’s vulnerable gonads were at serious risk from a kick or punch if they wore no protection, and no protection of his family jewels was possible in a naked fight.

“Do men ever fight here?” Jackson asked.

“Seldom, because this place is all about cunt. If men are ever in the ring to fight, it’s a specialty, and his foe will be female, put in there to lose, big time. Every now and again a bitch needs to be given an extremely tough message, one she won’t live to remember.”

That was as definitive as Jackson could expect. The gamblers would be attracted here to see women, not men, being brutally demolished. A woman would have to get her fist up deep into the cunt of her opponent if she wanted to do serious damage to the bitch’s internal plumbing.

He imagined how remarkably painful it would be if a woman could get her fingers into the cervix of her opponent and stretch it open sufficiently to get her fist inside. Seeing woman getting her uterus fist fucked would be an amazing sight, but his mind was just running wild, and he let it roam.

From there it would be possible to damage not only the cunt’s uterus but if the organ could be pulled out, to also attack her tender fallopian tubes and the ovaries. He expected this kind of damage would happen frequently to young women stupid or unfortunate enough to engage in naked sex fights in the most outrageous casinos in the world. This was real cock-jerking material. His horizon widened considerably as he considered the financial possibilities.

Jackson’s line of thought was broken when a man in a tuxedo with tails and a top hat climbed up and stepped through the ropes. Jackson was surprised to see that since their arrival the room had filled. There were only a couple of hundred when he and Billy had come in after dinner, and now in the room that would seat 2,000 there was standing room only.

The man in the ring carried a wireless microphone, and used it to welcome the crowd. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!” Jackson noticed for the first time that many of those in the room were women, most of them in gowns ranging from floor-length to micro-mini skirts.

All of the women wore uplifting bras, with lots of exposed cleavage, to make them visually more competitive with the naked women who would soon occupy the ring. Their husbands or escorts wore tuxedos, but the remainder of the males in attendance, who made up the majority of the crowd of gamblers, wore business attire, as did Billy and Jackson.

The MC continued, “Tonight you will enjoy, witness and wager upon the most violent sexual sport available in any casino, anywhere in the world. I might add that, for those of you embarrassed to see people engaged in copulation, and in this case the use of the word sexual does not imply coitus; you will be pleased to know that D-Ring Inc. keeps it clean, and does not permit any of its combatants to engage in fucking in any of our rings, anywhere in the world!”

That brought a laugh from the crowd. None of them had come to see naked ladies fucking each other. They had much more serious expectations.

“As many of you are aware, there are very few rules for the fights, which means there is no need for a referee. My role, in addition to being your commentator, is to ensure the required outcome is what you will see. In the early bouts the minimum required outcome is the inability of the loser to continue; in later competitions we require the nude female competitors to set up and achieve an entertaining brutal killing.”

A cheer went up, demonstrating that nobody was shocked at that announcement. They had come to experience the sight of nude women in mortal combat, fighting for their lives, and one of them losing hers. Anything less would be unacceptable to them, and would bring shame upon the establishment. D-Ring Inc. would never allow that to happen. If there were no kill, the Dispatcher would remedy that.

“I am known also as the casino’s Dispatcher. In that role I have the duty to determine if a loser can be restored to health to continue her fight career, and if not, to dispatch her in the ring, for your additional enjoyment, should she still be alive. If she’s probably not, I like to put a slug into her belly or head to make sure she’s done.” He lifted his tails, revealing a leather holster containing a large Colt 45. “This effectively puts thing right, again for your enjoyment.

“In a fight in which a kill is required, and not effected, my task is to correct that by putting the loser out of her misery, and providing the same fate to the lady who refuses to meet your expectations of her. It would be harmful to our reputation should you ever depart disappointed.”

He surprised everyone when he grasped the fly of his trousers, and with a rapid pull, ripped them off. They had breakaway stitching, and flew off him with that single rapid pull. Now he stood, revealing an enormous erection. He then grasped his shirt just below his navel, and with a firm and swift downward pull it flew off him as well.

This left him wearing only the tails, which covered very little of his chest in front, his broad belt with the large holstered pistol, and otherwise left him bare down to his Wellington boots. The feature of his appearance that attracted attention now was his large penis, arching up from his cleanly shaved groin. Jackson knew the signs; his erection was buttressed by a substantial dosage of chemical dick support.

“I think we’re ready to get started. As the first contestants enter the ring and are displayed by their handlers, your lovely young waitresses will collect your bets. Here come our first contestants now.” As the two girls and their handlers climbed into the ring, he introduced them.

“In an operation such as ours, it is necessary that all of our staff act in the best interests of D-Ring Inc. We are in the service industry, serving our clients with the best in sexual violence gambling entertainment, as well as other services. One of these is our food service, and these two were, until yesterday, waitresses in The Elite dining room.

“These girls are both 11. They are physically quite attractive for that age. Of particular interest is their long shapely legs, their view enhanced by the heels they are wearing, the same they wore as waitresses. You will also find interesting their pretty vaginas with the little tinkle bells, suspended from small rings piercing their inner vagina lips.

“Yesterday there was extra demand for what we call warm wine. It is white wine, very much the color of urine, and from the time they load it through a catheter into a girl until they serve it by peeing into the client’s glass, their natural product enters their bladder as well, altering the flavor of the wine for the better, in my opinion.

“The steady addition of their own urine direct from their kidneys also puts extra pressure on their bladders, which for obvious reasons our girls find to be quite uncomfortable. They have no option but to hold and endure it, which becomes more difficult by the minute. I enjoy their discomfort as much as the blended wine and pee they produce.

“These two, Nikki and Sarah, were both told to load their bladders with wine, and knowing it could become quite uncomfortable, both had the audacity to refuse. By that simple act they were both given an immediate promotion to fighter, bypassing their time serving on the mattresses and as cock-sucking greeters for VIPs.

“That is a privileged position, as with that assignment they get to work as senior serving girls in the dining room when there are no VIPs present. As senior serving girls they make many enemies so that when promoted to fighter, they have a lot of ego to fight for.”

The handlers had removed their loose capes, and now they stood naked except for their heels. The handlers undid their ponytails so that their hair swung at the sides of their faces, past their shoulders, and was ready and positioned for pulling, if the girls chose to do that.

“Most young girls, the MC explained, “find hair pulling quite painful and therefore a favorable fight strategy. It also gives them some control over their opponent’s head, making it easier to land telling punches. Girls like control and to hurt their foes in a way they will long remember. It’s quite fascinating.

“As you possibly know, D-Ring is working diligently to reduce the minimum age at which girls can participate in the nude fights in the USA, with a target for next year of 12, and for the following year 10. Our law department has engaged a pair of excellent forgers, and can easily make 8-year-old children pass for girls of 10.

“Their immature little cunt isn’t quite as developed as it would be in a couple of years, but erotic stimulation will produce a nice bump of the clitoral hood, and expose their inner lips, which will naturally flare in the heat of battle. With heels and some basic body makeup, their bodies can be made to look a bit older as well.”

As the girls postured, the waitresses were busy taking bets, rolling the large bills like cigarettes and inserting them into their vaginas. It was crude, but the gamblers appreciated it.

“Tonight, as a preliminary bout to get things warmed up, you will get a preview of what will soon, we hope, become a very common match-up. These 11-year-old beauties will take each other on, with the objective of knocking each other senseless. For sports fans, that means a concussion.

It’s premature at their age for them to go for a kill, but I think you’ll find their performance interesting. Have you all placed your bets? Two more minutes,” the MC said, his big cock swinging as he walked across the ring. He patted the naked young contestants on their bare bums, and then slapped their asses hard, to provide some color and brief squeals.

“This is Nikki,” he said, thrusting his middle finger into the rectum of the brunette girl. “Her mother, a single parent, has developed a lust for slot machines, and to forgive her debts, has signed off not only on Nikki working nude in the building, but also on the risk of being injured while working here.”

He moved over to the other girl, inserting the same finger into her rectum. These girls had experience with this treatment in the dining room, and now assumed it was a normal occurrence. “Sarah’s mother is also on her own, and like Nikki’s mom, has a serious gambling addiction. Sarah has three younger sisters, 7, 8 and 10, and all of them will be in the Club’s service when they are ready. The paperwork, already signed, ensures it.”

He pulled his finger from her bum and slapped her pretty round ass once more. “Wagering is closed!” he said as he climbed out through the ropes. “The 11-year-old girls are ready to get it on! Handlers out of the ring, please.”


CHAPTER 7 – Non-Combative Beatings


This set of his wife’s secret sex videos depicted rigorous punishment the mothers were inflicting on their very young daughters, and in the process were entertaining their friends, all of whom paid to witness this punishing kiddie show. Jackson realized someone was making a good deal of money from these parties, if they were organized and handled properly.

Impressed with what he had seen, but wanting to get on with it to see how far the women would allow these kiddie fights to go, Jackson went to another gallery, this one with the label Tough Pre-teens. These were all short videos, all shot in the same bar.

None of these videos featured fights. In each short video the girls were quite a bit older. The first showed a grade seven 12-year-old girl, displaying the beginnings of a voluptuous figure with ample breasts, her bare pubic mound shaved as clean as a baby’s. She had her wrists bound behind her back, and her ankles tied to posts 3 feet apart. The videos in this collection were basic training, about effective ways to badly beat a bound developing young bitch.

In these videos a muscular young man did the heavy work of correcting the young girls’ attitudes. He was in his early 20’s, and was naked except for tight-fitting leather gloves and sporting an impressive cum-dribbling erection, with an equally tight leather collar around the base of his erection and bulging leather-bound testicles.

This tight-fitting leather cock collar was unusual in that it was decorated with what were shown in a close-up to be sharp metal spikes. If nothing else it terrorized the young girls, and the appearance of this penis decoration did the trick. The girls realized the young man was likely going to harm them with it. They did not need much imagination to guess how.

The young man was in total control of the bizarre situation. He systematically punched the featured young girl in each video, who was also nude, striking her in the vagina, belly and giving particular attention to her breasts, and then he moved up to her head, brutally beating the hysterically screaming young cunt, her head being knocked from side to side, until she was unconscious.

This was a display of raw cruelty. When the girl was knocked out, the young man raped her, driving his rigid raging erection into her unprotected vagina. He awoke her with a start when with a final powerful thrust he drove the collar around the base of his stiff dick deep into her love shaft.

The sharp spikes on his cock collar drew piercing screams from the young bound beauty as their sharp points ripped through her vestibule and into the opening of her tender cock holster, deeply scratching the membrane. These were barbaric torture-fucks!

This video was obviously made after hours, as the bar was filled to capacity with women who had come to see these merciless girl-beatings and heinous rapes. None of the girls featured in the short videos appeared willing to participate, even at the beginning before the merciless punching began.

Jackson assumed the girls’ mothers had brought them, using this show as punishment for misdemeanors, or perhaps for breaking strict house rules. This vicious chastisement would be far more effective than grounding them. As they entered puberty, this experience would inform their behavior from now on. They would either run away from home or would become very obedient.

Jackson was quite pleased to see how these self-centered young mothers were not in the least disturbed by the vicious damage being delivered to their beautiful daughters. He was particularly delighted that the mothers received sufficient sexual stimulation that they would masturbate in public along with the others while watching it being done.

These delicious screaming 12-year-olds were, by a full 4 years, the oldest Jackson saw participating in any of the violent videos. All of them would require medical attention, and Jackson was certain there was a doctor taking part in the production, to ensure they did not visit a normal hospital or medical clinic. These people took their sport further than Jackson would have believed they would.

Another set of videos was in a folder entitled Punished Tots. In these video recordings appeared a petite mature woman. She had a slender waist and large bosom, and was wearing a 19th Century black tightly laced girdle that enticingly lifted her breasts without covering them.

She wore no panties to conceal her cleanly shaved pubic mound, with engorged dangling lips. A garter belt, black hose and button-up spike heels completed her period costume. She had appeared as a Madame. She gave the small naked girls, all of them the age of 4 or 5, a bare butt-reddening bottom spanking.

The view of their bare buttocks and shapely young legs kicking was beautiful. Whenever the pretty little girls screamed too loudly she pulled them up by the hair to slap their high-pitched shrieking faces. She then punched them on the face, on the jaw and in the gut. Although they all quickly got the message, they were unable to stop their uncontrolled screams.

For good measure she gave all of them a series of sharp slaps to their puffy bare pubic mounds, causing the shrilly screaming toddlers’ pudgy little cuntlets to swell open, revealing their mini clit hoods and below those their bright pink vestibules. These were seriously exquisite little cuntlets she smacked. Their tormentor was not yet finished.

Most enjoyable for Jackson was watching the mature woman using her fingers poked into the little rectums and vaginas of the preschoolers, drawing blood from the puffy cuntlets as she deflowered the infant ladies, piercing their hymens. Their first boyfriends in just a few years would be disappointed, with good reason to believe they were not the first to plant seed in their young partners’ eminently fuckable cunts.

What he was watching was straight out unbridled child abuse, completely despicable, and so appallingly cruel and vile that Jackson pulled out his penis, to ensure he would not cream in his pants. As he enjoyed the brutal punishment the tiny girls were given he withdrew his handkerchief from his jacket pocket, and firmly pumping his fist on his penis, ejaculated jets of his warm creamy semen into it, not wanting to mess the polished hardwood floor of his den.

Martha was due home shortly, and then was planning on going out for dinner with some of her lady friends. Jackson thought about her behavior over the past week, and the more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that their home would be the site of the next Kidfight Club event. It was only his suspicion, and he had to be certain.

He replaced the soiled handkerchief with a new one, and then left the mansion. He drove to a high-end surveillance store and put together a package that was sufficient to protect the entire home, but he intended to use all of the newly purchased high-end equipment in one room.

He had obtained half a dozen high definition cameras and as many automatic recording devices. The cameras were motion activated, and would record for 30 hours each, as long as there was movement within range of their sensors. These would tell him for certain and in vivid detail what was going on.

Martha returned home during his shopping trip, and he arrived home just as she was about to leave for her dinner engagement with girlfriends. That would leave him alone at home to place the high definition cameras and sensitive microphones. At this moment he loved independent women.

He wondered if when their daughter was small she had engaged in activities with the kiddie fight club, and if she had involved their daughter. He would be surprised if she had not. He had been too busy with his work and away on business trips to give them the attention he wanted to, which he now regretted. He would have loved to see his little daughter getting her bell rung.

Had he been home, he would have known for sure if his daughter had ever been subjected to nude kiddie fights. As his imagination ran wild, it was hard for him to reason that she had not. He could picture his little girl, who he had seen naked often at bath time, being placed naked in a ring and forced to strike another naked child, just for the entertainment of adult women, most of whom she would not know.

He surprised himself when his penis jolted in his pants, at the imagined scene featuring his own naked daughter, collar-chained to another naked girl and engaged in fisticuffs and much worse. What an insidious sport this was, inspiring lustful passion while arousing his most base carnal instincts. If he could harness it, the sport had all the ingredients for a long, profitable life.

Jackson decided the central living room would be the space she would use, because although a bit bigger, the family room had more furniture that would have to be moved. He examined the space carefully, determined where was most likely for the ring to be placed, and then began the most important task of deciding where each of the tiny high-tech cameras he had bought would be placed so that they would capture the action without being conspicuous.

As soon as Martha departed he went to work, preparing a setup that would be thorough in recording whatever went on in his absence. These state-of-the-art devices were designed for concealment, and he found effectively hiding them easier than he had thought.

It took him less than 2 hours to get the entire room bugged, with both cameras and microphones strategically placed. When he stood in the middle of the room, he could see nothing. The cameras and mikes were invisible, unless you knew exactly what to look for, and where.

Jackson was certain Martha was preparing to host a dirty kiddie fight event in their home, featuring naked little girls, and he wanted to see exactly what was going to transpire, and how far she was prepared to go. As the hostess he was certain she would make that call.

He now had a new view of his wife, participating in an all-women’s kiddie fight club, and getting her rocks off watching naked little girls, from pre-school to grade 3, encouraged by their mothers and probably often their grandmothers as well, beating the living crap out of each other.

The stage was set. His cock was raging with anticipation at what was likely to happen right in his own home during his absence. He hoped to God Martha went ahead with the fight party. Everything was set. He had double-checked his cameras, the camera angles and the recording devices.

Now, unknown to her, everything was up to Martha. He had done his part well, as he did everything he took on. If all went as he expected it would, he would soon have some sexually stimulating videos that contained proof of what he was certain was his wife’s secret activity. He was confident she would not disappoint him.

*

Martha was home when he returned from his trip a few days later, and he promptly gave the staff the evening off. When they had left Jackson excused himself, telling Martha he had some urgent business to complete. He poured himself a sherry and then went into his den, where he had placed the recording devices, which had taken feeds from the array of strategically placed cameras.

They were still plugged into his computer, and it took only seconds for him to bring up the image from each, and using split screen, all were available at once, and nearly in sync, because motion had been detected at the same time. He could enlarge any screen he wished, to take in all of the pertinent detail from any angle. He had planned well.

The electrified ring was, as he expected, set up in the living room, with the couches and coffee tables moved back to the walls. Thank God their mansion was expansive. He was surprised that there were what he guessed to be 100 women crowded around the small ring. He had strategically placed the cameras in positions high enough that the women did not distract his view of the ring.

Jackson was also surprised to see more than 60 little girls standing against the back wall. They were all naked, and ranged in age from 4 to 8. None was diapered, but some of them had their wrists bound behind their backs. What was this about? They were all behind the audience, and could not see the action in the ring.

Two small children, a pair of five-year-olds, were placed in the ring, both nude, with no diapers. They wore only little woolen mittens, tied tightly in place with ribbons. One child had curly red hair, and Jackson assumed this was the youngster Helen had referred to in her text message he had intercepted. The other was a cute little black girl, her hair braided into tight dreadnaughts.

Before anyone started the fight, the redhead drove a fist into t he face of the black child, and followed with a rapid set of punches that decked the startled recipient of her attack. When the black fell the other girl straddled and landed blow after blow on the screaming innocent, who pissed an amber arch before the very pleased mothers pulled them apart. It had been no contest.

For the second round, a cute Mexican Chiquita and what someone near a mike identified as a pretty little Canadian, were lifted over the hot wire into the ring. Jackson thought these children could also be no older than 5. They wore only the miniscule diapers he’d seen in the earlier videos from his wife’s computer.

He thought the use of diapers were a detriment to full optical access to the cute little otherwise naked bodies of the little girls, and a disappointing fixture in the sport. The loose attachment with the safety pins did little to satisfy his lust for viewing enticing little cuntlets. His view of the previous two cuntlets had been unobstructed, which he appreciated.

It seemed the hostesses, including his wife Martha, did not savor cleaning up freshly sprayed piss from little cuntlets and lumps of kiddie-poop forcefully ejected from the little girls’ tiny rectums in the heat of battle. He noticed she did have the obligatory bottle of Febreze close at hand to control unpleasant aroma if the girls’ produced any scat.

This fight turned out to be just a preliminary bout, and neither girl showed any sign of experience, based on what he’d seen in earlier videos. It went quite slowly at first as they found their way, but the Mexican, who dodged and weaved away from almost everything the little Canadian cuntlet threw at her, finally got in some great head punches.

When the little white kid hit the deck hard, her pretty diapered ass in the air and her bleeding face buried in the carpet, she was unable to resume. She showed a dark stain on the thin diaper, indicating she had evacuated. Jackson preferred to see little girls’ cuntlets and rectums, and because of the damned diapers, these two spunky kids displayed none.

That would be something easily fixed in future bouts. Bare cuntlets drew paying crowds. The second bout featured a pair of mismatched 6-year-olds, and their little diapers hid their little delicious little peaches as well. One was a Swede and the other Irish. They were very cute kids, and their mothers took their roles very seriously as they swarmed them.

Apparently this event at his home was a big deal, because these little scrappers and their mums were apparently flown in from Europe. He wondered how much his wife had collected from the ladies in attendance, and how much she charged as an entry fee paid by the kiddies’ parents.

The Irish girl didn’t land a significant punch, and after a flurry of punches by the Swede broke her nose, she was down and out, her diaper showing a large light yellow stain in front, but still securely in place. The Swedish little girl hadn’t even taken a tinkle. Jackson was certain he could make events like this far more interesting than this was proving to be.

He went to three other cameras to inspect the audience, and found his wife, sitting in the front row, her skirt shamelessly up to reveal she wore no underwear, her cleanly shaved pubic mound with her flared cunt on full display, masturbating as she watched the first fight.

What a whore he had married. How had he never seen any signs of this side of her character? Perhaps he had never given her an opportunity to reveal herself and her true nature. That was oversight, and could be easily corrected. It occurred to him he had never revealed all sides of his personal and sexual tastes either. That could also be corrected.

The third fight proved to be the last of the event staged at his home, and it was quite different from the first two. It featured an aggressive 7-year-old milk-chocolate African American girl pitted against a slender 6-year-old Asian girl who moved with feline grace.

These pretty little girls were more to Jackson’s liking, as they were both buck naked, with their bulging split pubic mounds on full display. Both of the delightful cuntlets had been manually teased open by their mothers, for the enjoyment of the crowd.

The opening of their genitalia was also for the enjoyment of the video audience. These two children were much too young to experience sexual stimulation from the rubbing of their premature vaginas, but none of this was for their enjoyment. Jackson was certain he was a cunt man; in fact a kiddie-cunt man at the moment.

These precocious little cunts were here to do severe battle, and the screaming women making up the audience were ready. Both of the little bitches wore a spiked collar with d-rings attached, but there was no chain joining them, and Jackson assumed they were free to move independently.

However, at that moment a woman entered the ring, drew the little girls together and fastened a chain to join their collars. There would be no escape for either. They would be forced to fight in this position, and their only defense would be an aggressive offence.

The naked little girls wore tape on their hands. It was clear they were intended to do damage to each other, and bare knuckles would ensure bleeding cuts and deep bruises, which is what made the fight interesting. Jackson had often had wet dreams about naked little girls doing harm to each other, and was very happy he had, thanks to his dear outwardly prudish wife, found this resource.

Jackson was an entrepreneur, one who had the ability to set up and run a sound and thriving business starting with no more than a sketchy idea. His mind was racing, thinking on how he could build on this already well-developed, but not as yet commercialized, idea. He guessed it had the potential to even further expand on his substantial wealth, making him millions, if he handled it right.

He watched as the fight began with circling, the girls trying to get the measure of the opponent. The slender Asian kid drew first blood after an exchange of kicks and punches, cutting the black’s eyebrow. That brought a rapid flurry of punches to the little Asian’s face, and with them a spray of blood from her nose and a split lip.

The pretty slant-eyed kid suddenly retaliated and kicked the black child hard on her cunt, forcing her to fall back against the electrified wires. She was zapped as hard as she was kicked, but got back up to her feet quickly, and with a startlingly powerful punch to the face.

The particularly violent blow flattened her opponent’s already flat nose, breaking it, and knocked the feisty Asian off her feet. Her slant eyes began to swell so severely that they were nearly shut. She squinted through the narrow slits remaining, and swung wildly, leaving an opening.

The black seized the opportunity, and showed her strength when she picked up the smaller Asian kid and threw her back into the wires. She knew enough not to hold on to the chink, but backed off, and the cameras caught the quivering little cunt pissing onto her own legs.

In a last-ditch effort the wiry Asian pulled herself off the punishing electric wires and threw a desperate elbow to the side of the head that dropped the black, but she was again up in seconds, hammering the head and face of the Asian with another round of rapid powerful blows.

The battered chink hit the wires again, releasing a stiff turd as she quivered from the shock, but this time when she got off the wire she could not get to her feet, and fell on her back onto the floor. The black seized her advantage, quickly grabbed the Asian’s hair and lifted her head high enough to pound again on her broken and bleeding nose.

The women were in hysterics, shouting, screaming and all of them masturbating wildly. They were obviously very pleased with the raw brutality of the violent kiddie fight. These very young little girls, barely more than toddlers, were as hard-hitting and damaging in their vicious attacks as the excited women could wish for.

The black was dragging the Asian, who was face down, by their collar chain, and smearing the floor with blood when Jackson hit the stop button. The last thing he saw on the screen was Martha, her skirt raised and her shapely legs spread, forcefully and shamelessly masturbating. What an incredible, beautiful cunt he had married!

He was breathing hard with carnal lust. That video had been made right here in his own home during his two day absence, possibly within the last 24 hours. His mind was racing. How could he turn this sport into a moneymaking operation? How could he harness Martha’s passion to make it productive? The questions kept on coming. As did answers.


. . . to be continued

 No.6547

Some major new elements here. I like the opening - both the vivid description of the castration and the implied promise of more to come. The focus here on the setup is now much more developed and gives us a better (and more stimulating) insight into how Jackson built his empire. Great work.

 No.6559

Thanks for the wonderful compliment. I'm enjoying creating this work as much as any I've done. Much more to come . . .

 No.6568

CHAPTER 8 – The Novice Bout


The handlers did as the MC had told them, and as the three of them got down to the casino floor, Nikki and Sarah promptly went at each other. Jackson was delighted to see a pair of innocent young girls pitted against each other, attempting to significantly injure each other.

‘This is what sports gambling should be about,’ he thought, ‘pure adult entertainment, with harmful intent!’ It beat the shit out of horse races. He would make sure the gamblers he planned to attract understood how far his events would go, and the extent of damage the girls would likely do to each other in the ring.

The sole intent of the battling girls whose bout he was enjoying on his computer screen was to do harm, to violate and to severely punish the other. He loved it. His mind was racing, exploring the possibilities to harness this kind of violent cruelty as a moneymaking venture without duplicating the efforts of D-Ring.

That was something he was confident he could do, and do it well. He had the required connections, and the avenues to develop more as the need arose. He would have to thoroughly research the full extent of D-Ring operations, and the style of woman killing woman fights they staged. He would also want to know the extent to which they involved youth, and how far they permitted them to go.

He believed the prospective gamblers out there who even knew of D-Ring were in a minority, and than there were millions, just in America, who didn’t. D-Ring was able to operate their casinos around the world very profitably, and had little competition.

He wouldn’t run at them head on, partly because he could use their transportation business, and also because they were such a powerful force. There were things he thought they might not be doing that he could do, perhaps by setting up a private and highly secret retreat, where he could produce the most illicit and incredibly violent events for his clients, for a very handsome profit.

He would like to do something on a much smaller but perhaps more intense level, and if he did so, he would have to be certain there were no restrictions, which would be the case when he created a special resort independent of any sovereignty, and therefore free of any law. It was not a new idea, but he knew he could do it properly.

Jackson and Billy sat back to watch the naked young girls fighting each other. As expected, they began by grabbing each other’s hair, and jerking their heads around. That allowed them to control their adversary’s head as they swung at it with their free fist, and both were able to bloody their nose, bruise swelling eyes and scrape their own fists.

Sarah surprised the audience when she grasped only a small lock of hair, and managed to pull it free, baring a bit of scalp. She thought this was a good idea, made it her key strategy, and soon had ripped the hair out of a large patch of Nikki’s skull, most of it near the front, where the loss was most visible. She paid a price for her success, as she took repeated blows to the face and tummy.

Sarah also took some solid brutal blows from Nikki’s knee to her young cunt, causing it to swell and redden. Jackson had a new insight into his own tastes, newly viewing himself as a knee man. He and Billy commented on every new strategy, enjoying the bout as it progressed.

The naked 11-year-old girls, not yet sporting tits, were fully immersed in the spirit of the fight, gaining the support of the audience as they displayed their great legs in the erotic heels. They frantically struggled, battering and bruising each other with intense vehemence. At first it appeared one, but then the other gained the advantage, and the howling crowd of 2,000 sports fans ate it up.

The battle then deteriorated when Sarah fell to the canvas. Nikki promptly dropped onto her, and they began twisting, hugging wrestling. That proved to be neither entertaining nor productive for either of them. They were under-skilled and too evenly matched for this kind of struggle to have any kind of success.

The MC sent the female handlers in to pull the girls apart and give them a very brief break. They were both exhausted, and needed the chance to regain some energy. Both breathed heavily as they were pulled apart, and with their legs akimbo, the audience enjoyed a great view of their battered, sweating and gaping cuntlets.

After less than a minute of rest they were set facing each other again, and the handlers slipped out through the ropes. Nikki, who’s scalp was bleeding where she had lost so much hair, was sobbing loudly, and at the first opportunity, before Sarah was ready, swung a roundhouse uppercut at her chin.

Her aim was perfect, and the result devastating. Sarah’s head snapped back, and she hit the deck hard, out cold. In this case boxing proved to be far more productive than wrestling. She landed with her legs wide-spread, knees up and her back arched. At the moment she appeared to be much more provocative while unconscious than awake.

The MC leaped back up into the ring, and drawing his gun, thrust its barrel up into Sarah’s bare exposed cunt. “This is the point in fights that I become the Dispatcher,” he said with joy, “but unfortunately not in a novice fight, where the death of one of the combatants is not a required conclusion.

“These two cute cuntlets will get to fight again, and next time it will be with some fight training by our highly skilled combat specialists, so that they can demonstrate more skill in the pugilistic arts.”

The dazed girl gradually came to her senses, and as the pistol barrel was withdrawn from her womb, the audience applauded as they saw the blood, and realized the MC had used the barrel of his pistol to rob Sarah of her virginity. At the age of 11, Jackson supposed a girl being a virgin was not uncommon.

What he did not know was that virginity was a requirement for girls working as waitresses in the dining room. The chef had a special dish that was delivered in the vagina and rectum of the girls, and they were deflowered at the guests’ table before they were loaded, because their trickle of fresh blood was part of the recipe. He wondered if Nikki was a virgin. In her new role as a fighter, that was probably irrelevant.

The handlers quickly pulled the two girls out of the ring, and took them to the holding rooms. Billy commented, “They’ll be in training starting tomorrow morning, and in a week they’ll be back in the ring, likely pitted against each other again. They’re well matched, and with some training, their fight will be much more interesting.”

“Well, wasn’t that a battle,” the MC said, “outstanding fight for a pair of such young kids, both novices. Nikki learned how to dish it out, and Sarah learned how to take it! Let’s give them a big hand.” The audience complied, but those who had bet on Nikki were anxious to cash in their bets.

Four tall nude dancers climbed into the ring, again wearing only stiletto heels. They were remarkable women, with full firm pointing breasts. Watching them were 4 big negro dark pigment studs who followed them into the ring. They were stark naked, sporting amazing erections, and looked like muscular football players.

They ladies paraded around the ring, making obscene poses and handling their genitalia. The women each grasped the penis of the nearest stud and pumped them, causing their big dicks to stiffen substantially. They continued until dribbles of pre-ejaculation fluid appeared on the tips of their pulsing penises.

“Call me a liar,” the MC said, but I told you none of the fighters would fuck in our ring. I said nothing about the entertainers keeping you amused between fights!” Music with a heavy rock beat blasted from the room’s sound system, and the eight performers began to dance.

The profane dancers got the audience clapping in time to the music, and then the black studs mounted the women from behind, grabbing their hips and thrusting hard so that they drove their outrageously long and stout penises deep into the eager ladies’ clean-shaved cunts.

The volume of the music increased, and the studs humped their stout pricks into the ladies in perfect synchronization. After more than 10 minutes of rhythmic thrusting, the tempo of the music increased, as did the tempo of plunging penises. On cue, the four men ejaculate, promptly pulling out to shoot their goo over the backs of the forward-leaning ladies.

The gorgeous nude women turned to face each other, grasping hands together, and spreading their luscious legs, squirted freshly collected semen from their vaginas. The copious collection of sperm splashed into a single slimy puddle on the floor between them.

They next licked the slimy spunk off back of another girl, and still leaning forward, spit it onto the growing spunk puddle on the floor. The gorgeous voluptuous ladies were putting on a indecent presentation of planned prurient pulchritude. They were still working at taking their act to the level of filthy, but they were on the right course.

As the cunts in the ring continued their provocative dance, the young waitresses on the casino floor took drink orders and bets, keeping their pretty young open cunts on display for the enjoyment of the gamblers. Jackson watched them going to the bar to hand in bets and place drink orders.

As they waited, they put a hand to work masturbating, to keep their genitalia in a state of sexual excitement. These kids were well-trained professionals, and were demonstrating their full understanding of their real role in show business. Witnessing the nightly fights between nude women every night, they had all lost their innocence.

The women in the ring turned to face a male other than the one who had previously mounted her. The studs’ erections had sagged from the completed fuck, and they were dribbling semen as they stood, breathing hard to regenerating their energy.

The women got to their knees in front of them, heaving their buttocks back to the audience to better display their puckered rectums and flared cunts. They took the men’s diminished cocks into their mouths, all of them skilled in restoring penises to full erection.

With the application of the women’s hard working tongues and bobbing heads, the men’s flaccid dicks soon regained their rigid status, saluting the work of the naked ladies’ encouraging mouths. The women removed their heads, leaving a coating of saliva on the stiff engorged black erections.

The nude beauties were about to take these firm shafts into themselves again, this time in their rear entries, and were doing what they could to ensure a smooth, pain-free entry. The imposing dongs of the studs were intimidating, but their assignment was to entertain the men’s pumping shafts without complaint.

The women stood again, showing their incredible legs to full advantage in the sexy stiletto heels, and once more faced each other, leaning in and wrapping their arms around the others’ shoulders as they formed a ring. The studs, their large organs orally revitalized, moved behind the women again.

They used their hands to spread the ladies’ shapely white buttocks, exposing their nude mount’s anus. They inhaled snot from their sinuses, and spit on the puckered little starfish to provide slimy lubrication. The force of their entry thrust would bring pain not only to the women, for whom they had no regard, but also to their own rigid genitals.

A new rock song began, and the men placed their penises into the fold of the young women’s buttocks. On the first beat of the first verse, they simultaneously thrust, and the women let out a brief squeal as their rectums were compromised. The now rowdy audience shouted encouragement, and the black studs swiftly responded, producing a pounding piston action in the invaded colons of the lovely ladies.

Jackson was enjoying the view of the ladies dangling breasts bouncing and slapping hard against each other with the forceful action of the anal fuck, when the first stud bellowed and jerked his erection out of his mount’s shit-chute. Quickly the other three did the same, all four of them ejaculating.

They aimed their jetting penises at the gleaming pool on the floor of spunk from their previous ejaculation, adding to the slippery mess. The relieved women climbed through the ropes, knowing the show was over. The men completed their expulsion of semen, and then followed the women, clearing the ring for the next fight.



CHAPTER 9 - Exploring Martha’s boundaries


Jackson now went to the links he had found on Martha’s computer and forwarded to his own. He was curious to see how far the amateur producers and video-makers would take this highly erotic sport. He was forming ideas in his mind that were being fed by the brutal kiddie action he was seeing.

Properly produced, these events could be so much more satisfying, but that would require taking the audience forward one step at a time. He knew from experience the steps could be large, and once a woman was introduced to a new concept, she could quickly grasp it. The kids would not be the problem in taking this to its ultimate potential. That would depend on him.

There were other folders he had not yet opened, each of them containing several videos, which had interesting descriptive names. One such folder was called Malicious Malaysian Pumas. Jackson immediately thought of naked little girls being confronted by vicious cats in a pit. That was not what he expected to see, but realized it was something he could easily make happen.

He entered the Puma folder, and opened one of a dozen files at random. He had picked well. He took a quick peek at several of the files to see if animals were involved in any of them, and none were. It was just little girls, all of them somehow decorated as animals. He chose one that was quite different, and closed the others.

He watched a pair of naked pudgy 5-year-old girls on their hands and knees, facing each other awaiting instructions, in an eight-foot-square sandbox apparently located in the center of a downstairs recreation room. There was no audience, only four young women, friends who were there to make the violent kiddie-fight video with the infant girls.

Neither of these children appeared to be from SE Asia. Both of them were white, and the four excited women watching them were obviously American, and spoke in a New England accent. Neither child was diapered. The sandbox was a safe place for excrement, with cleanup and disposal easy, but in this case kiddie-poop would not be appearing.

This video of nasty little American kiddies proved to be made at a very private party, held for the purpose of making the video. The tiny girls had been transformed into little animals, and wore a butt plug inserted into their rectums with a long tail attached, which would effectively prevent the production of kiddie-crap. There would be no girlie-poop for the hostess of this wicked video shoot to clean up.

On the fingers of the nude little girls in the sandbox were clamped little claws. They were tiny, but clearly very sharp, and capable of producing scratches that would leak quite a bit of their blood. Jackson was pleased to see this video promised to be highly violent and likely quite bloody, even with children so young.

Two of the four women in their mid-twenties, possibly the girls’ mothers, used cattle prods to get the reluctant little fighters moving. The tiny children were quickly up on their knees, and aggressively used their metal claws on each other, raking tiny bleeding tracks across their perfect skin.

They screamed at the ragged pain they were experiencing, and continued to scratch repeated deeper and deeper bleeding gouges in each other’s flesh, fighting frantically to end the brutal fight with a win. These amazing naked children were now fighting out of desperation, and Jackson found their match more enchanting than any he had seen so far.

The aggressive infants in the sand box were in terrible shape when the mothers finally stepped in to stop the vicious fight. The other two women moved in. They were, from their actions and what they said, apparently a doctor and a nurse. They tended to the screaming little girls’ more serious wounds, stitching them without anesthetic, and applying stinging alcohol and taping the others.

The missing element here was compassion and mercy, which was entirely to Jackson’s liking. In fact that was common to all of the videos depicting this radical sport. That’s what made this sport so enticing. Just by accident of birth, by the mothers who had whelped them, dictated that they would be entered into and required to participate in aggressive hand-to-hand combat that guaranteed bloody damage.

He entered another folder named Stick Fights. It contained 8 files. He opened one of them, and saw a pair of naked 8-year-old girls hanging from cuffs on their widespread ankles, facing each other and armed with split canes. These were capable of cutting fresh meat, such as the bodies of these very pretty nude combatants.

This video was not in a home, but was made in a body shop that repaired high-end cars. There were Mercedes, Porches, Ferraris and a bright yellow Alpha Romeo. Most of the license tags were from Oklahoma. Jackson surmised the producer of this event was not the body shop owner, but a customer who owned one of the exotic automobiles.

A beautiful voluptuous woman, who would be fairly described as classy were she not in a tight dress low cut in front to reveal her substantial cleavage and a very high cut hem that revealed the fold of her buttocks, stepped into frame and thrust a gorgeous leg forward as she leaned in and shouted to the suspended nude teens, “Fucking beat the cunt!” Her costume and her language were a good match.

She must have been the mother of one of the naked young girls, as she had shouted that command to the nude girl hanging nearest her. She was playing a role for the video, and was such a hot bitch in that role that Jackson would like to have a round or two with her when he learned her identity.

The suspended pre-teens promptly began viciously attacking each other, battering their opponent’s torso, exposed cunt and head with a vengeance. The pretty girls’ screams spoke of the ferocious violence they were both giving and experiencing. Tiny sprays of their blood splashed from where their smooth skin was cut by the split canes.

The damage they were doing to each other’s body was severe, and would require extensive medical attention. These girls would not be back in their grade 3 class in less than a month, more likely requiring 6 weeks or more to heal. Jackson’s penis raged in his pants as he watched the keen girls eagerly striking each other with the sadistic split canes.

Clearly this sport went far beyond what had occurred in his home, and it was equally clear there was a considerable appetite for it. The entertainment value of this video was not about winning or losing, but instead about the vehemence of the violent damage the girls’ wrecked upon each other’s beautiful young body.

Which of the highly attractive naked youngster won seemed completely irrelevant, even to their mothers, who cheered every blow, regardless of which fiery young combatant delivered it. What mattered to Jackson, to the youngsters’ mothers and to the audience was the merciless damage they did to each other.

The other folder that caught his attention was in a section by itself, and was simply named Terminus. That was an ominous title if he’d ever heard one. Jackson expectantly wondered if the implication he drew was accurate, that a child would be killed on camera. He quickly pulled down the zipper on his pants, to be prepared.

If this was going to be anything like he expected, he was likely to cream, and doing so in his pants was acceptable only in an emergency. He had earlier disposed of his semen-soiled handkerchief, and had thankfully taken the time to replace it before his shopping trip.

There was only one file in the Terminus folder. That was all that was necessary to make the point about how far this sport could go. He was shocked by what it presented. He knew there was some very rough stuff on the market, and he was pleased to see that this one displayed some creativity in the design of the event.

There was a deep rectangular pit dug in a forest clearing. The pit was not new, judging by the long grass grew over the edges. The vertical sided trench was 4 feet wide, 8 feet long, and at least 12 feet deep. The setting was tropical, judging by the plant life.

Gathered on one side of it, carefully placed so as to not block camera angles, was a group of men and women, wearing casual shirts, shorts and sandals. The shirts were worn outside the shorts, which were specially designed. They had a large fly, and no zipper, allowing ready access to their genitals when the male and female spectators were ready to masturbate.

The clean-cut yawning chasm was deep enough that four bright lights were embedded in the sides of it, to light the lower portion for better visibility. A dozen wooden spikes stood up 4 feet from the bottom of the pit. Most of them were bloodstained, demonstrating the trench was well used. Clearly the people who created this event were deadly serious about their erotic kiddie sports.

A title came up. It simply said Honduras Toddler Hardball. Jackson correctly guessed the title was a figure of speech. Three feet from each end of the pit stood a naked pudgy six-year-old girl. Both of them looked terrified, both were equal in size and build, and neither understood what kind of action was expected of them.

Both of the little girls were strikingly beautiful aboriginal Hispanics, as were the adults standing along one side in the background, anxiously anticipating the imminent action. Jackson wondered if the parents knew the full purpose of the event, or of its outcome.

This would probably be a well-balanced even competition, unlike some of the others. This was reasonable, considering the expected outcome. Only the 2 children were naked, and neither was diapered. Their pudgy little pubic mounds stood out, their cuntlets flared as if they had just experienced a sound gang rape fucking by the male adults.

This was highly likely, as both girls had been recently crying. Jackson checked the bulges in the men’s pants, and saw the tell-tale signs of moisture. They had recently ejaculated, and it would have been inside the little girls. That was probably another video worth checking.

They stood braced, each with the end of a stout hemp rope tied around her waist, stretched across the length of the pit. It served as a line that joined them. This was to be a nefarious tug of war, with the objective to pull the other child into the deep hole for a painful death on the spikes!

The loser would be rapidly impaled like a stuck piglet, drawn onto the spikes by the distance of the fall and by her own weight. It was an ingenious device, but Jackson did not yet grasp the full implications of it, but soon enough would see how devious it was as the action played out.

It was, as the name on the folder implied, a fucking kiddie snuff video! He had heard there were videos as outrageous as this available to little girl connoisseurs, for purchase at a steep price, but had never pursued it. Now he had one of these up on the computer in front of him.

This file was not stored with the major groups, but was in a separate section, and he wondered if Martha had viewed it, and if so, if she had enjoyed it. This had all the markings of the real thing, including clear sound and very good production values, including lighting and camera work.

When the pulling started, he sped up the video, much less keen on watching the little girls struggle as he was in witnessing the inevitable, unavoidable outcome. He had once seen on Youtube, before it was removed, a video of a 6-year-old girl, being pulled by the hand of her jay-walking mother, being hit by a car.

The child had bounced high in the air before crashing on her head onto the solid pavement, crushing her skull and breaking her neck when she landed. Unfortunately she was fully clothed, and even though her skirt was up around her waist when she landed, there was no way to observe what was a certain pooping in her revealed panties.

He had to stop and back up the recording, as he had shot past the startling end to the competition. The wicked ending was by nefarious design. When one little girl lost her footing as her opponent pulled extra hard on the rope, she slid over the edge and into the pit, screaming as she fell.

Now the wicked intent of the designer of this game became apparent. The distance of the fall was sufficient that as she went down the rope came tight and she pulled her startled opponent into the other end of the pit. Both naked children were quickly fully impaled on the sadistic spikes. This was by insidious design a no-win competition.

The cameras got excellent shots of the little ladies falling, and their brown bodies sinking deep onto the sharp poles. Two of the cameras provided slow motion images of the little girls grizzly impaling ride onto the pointed shafts. This was far better than anything Jackson had expected.

The high definition cameras captured great images of the tips of the bloody spikes emerging through the pudgy little torsos. The lighting was sufficient that the images were sharp and not grainy, and the camera angles caught the blood that spurted out around the emerging poles.

The first girl had spun and twisted in despair on the way down and landed on her back, with spikes emerging through her tummy below and to the side of her navel, through her diaphragm and a third by her collarbone. None of these was lethal, and she squirmed as she screamed, pissing as she was held fast by her impalement.

The second girl landed face down on the spikes, and also caught three of the sharp poles. One emerged low on her back just to the right of her spine. Another came through her ribs below her shoulder blades, while the third cleanly pierced the left side of her neck.

With her ass propped up and her legs widespread, a brown log poked its nose out of her slowly spreading rectum, and she produced a long firm stool that eventually dropped to the bottom of the pit. Jackson thought that kiddie shit was much more manageable on video rather than in person.

He realized some people had a substantial tolerance for the sight and odor of child waste, and interest in seeing naked little girls defecate in public while under severe distress. It was just one more quirk in the unlimited variety of human responses the video’s producer was catering to.

No arteries were struck on either of the very young little girls, so they would not bleed out, but would live for some time to entertain the people watching down from above, appreciating their stoic performance as they squirmed, as if somehow in their wildest dreams they could extricate themselves from the desperate situation they were now in.

Neither of the pudgy grade 1 students would live to see the ripe old age of 7. In truth, neither would live to see the sunrise tomorrow. Jackson had just watched a kiddie snuff video. He was impressed that the Hondurans could produce a product of this quality, and realized the opening title on the screen was the only indication of where this remarkable video was made.


. . . to be continued

 No.6598

CHAPTER 10 – Serious Amateur Fight


The MC jumped up and climbed through the ropes, his penis as rigid as ever. The designer cock enhancer he had ingested was doing its job. He raised his microphone to introduce the next bout. Jackson noticed his throbbing erection had a gleam on the end, as he was dribbling pre-ejaculation fluid.

The man was highly aroused, either from the completed copulation act or, more likely, anticipation of the next nude violent bout he was introducing. During the break he had likely also augmented the Viagra in his system, to ensure he maintained a full erection while working in public.

“Our second battle tonight features a pair of lovely telephone operators from the Chicago Telephone Company. One of them, a redhead named Lilly, applied to compete in our ring, wanting to exact revenge on another operator who did her wrong, in a lawful setting, where she can beat the shit out of the gorgeous young lady whom she vehemently hates, without fear of having to deal with any legal issues.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the D-Ring Casino is the ideal place to safely perpetrate vengeance on a hated rival!”

The people cheered, knowing what he predicted is exactly what they were about to witness. “Lilly Cuntina (not her real surname) nominated her rival, Maggie Vaginitus (definitely not her real surname), a natural blonde, and we obliged her when we arranged for her unknowing nominee to visit us at our recruiting center.

“Maggie had no interest in engaging in a nude fight with Lilly in our casino, and was not willing to come in for preparation without some compelling persuasion. An injection of a strong sedative jabbed in her hip by our skilled recruiting team took care of her resistance. I think when she comes on you’ll agree with me that she has a lovely ass.

“Lilly told us Maggie had issued illicit grievances about her, faking customer complaint forms filled out when Maggie was not on shift. They went onto Lilly’s record, and further false complaints cost Lilly promotions. She vowed revenge, and at last found the perfect way to get back at her enemy legally and with impunity.

“Maggie could never sue her for what happened to her in the D-Ring Casino. We have made her a permanent resident and fighter, so she will have no access to lawyers, let alone the court system. For Lilly, D-Ring is the perfect solution to her Maggie problem.”

Handlers brought the two young women to the ring, and had to hold them firmly to prevent an early start to the fight. They were both extremely agitated, likely high on speed. The pretty redhead Lilly was athletic, with moderate C-cup breasts. She was well muscled, with flat abs, and it was clear she worked out regularly.

The blonde Maggie had firm DD cub breasts, and a voluptuous figure to support them, including an impressive ass, as the MC had said. Maggie moved well, but much of her response was an involuntary erotic reaction to the sight of the MC’s eager cock. The drug cocktail in her system removed most restraint, and she was free to feel and express whatever feelings came to her stimulated mind.

She had a seductive little belly bulge just below her navel, and she twisted her waist slightly to match the feminine bounce of her buttocks. She was in every respect an outstanding cock-tease. Lilly was by comparison a bit more stiff, but looked to Jackson as the better bet.

A strikingly beautiful woman, nude except for her heels, spiked collar with matching cuffs and anklets, and wearing a puma tail anchored by a stout butt-plug, entered the ring with a tray of supplies. She taped their fists, and then dipped them one at a time into a pot of thick glue.

“Holy shit,” Billy said, suddenly recognizing something that gave him a start, “Maggie’s hair’s in a fucking ponytail!” Looking at a surprised Jackson, he explained, “Not everybody knows it, but that’s the D-Ring code for a fixed fight. Maggie’s supposed to lose.

Every now an then D-Ring will arrange for one fighter to win, so that they can give her some relatively safe novice fight experience and ring confidence, and later put her into more serious fights. It appears they like Lilly. Watch to see if we can figure out how they rig it.”

“The MC continued, “Lilly signed Maggie’s nomination papers, and with support from our law department made her Maggie’s official guardian. Those papers waved all rights for both of them. Lilly was eager to sign them all, without reading more than the first few words, and told us she wants to mark Maggie so that she’ll remember for the rest of her life who it was that beat her!

“We have given her some interesting options, and knowing whatever she chose to use, her opponent would get the same, she chose to use glass.” Glass? That confused Jackson, but he was certain that would be explained as things unfolded. He could only think of the cutting capability of sharp glass, but had no idea how it might be applied.

As her handler held Lilly, the nude woman lifted a band of canvas. “That’s crushed glass,” Billy said. “It’ll be glued to the tape on her fists.” Jackson watched Lilly’s sticky fists get pressed, one at a time, into the strip of canvas, and they came up gleaming with small sharp chunks of broken glass stuck in the glue.

“My God,” Jackson exclaimed, “This is serious shit. These girls are going to be a bloody mess before this is over!” His penis was as firm as he had ever felt it, pressing to burst out of his suit pants. He hoped he didn’t let it produce smegma, which would make a dark row of embarrassing pecker tracks on the front of his pants.

He glanced around the large casino, looking at the giant video screens placed strategically so that everyone present would have a great view of the proceedings. What was promised by what Jackson had already seen was enough to raise a man or woman’s blood pressure, and he was certain his was going through the roof.

He had never dreamed such things were possible, and now knew that he would become a successful producer of this kind of live violent pornography. He was particularly impressed that behind the Lucite panel at the back of the D-Ring were a pair of professional television cameras.

He was sure there were others hidden on columns and from the ceiling to pick up other angles. He expected D-Ring Inc. operated dark-net pay sites to distribute their product around the world, and increase profits from their outrageously violent international operations. That was smart business.

The nude woman with the tail went to her box of supplies, and brought out a pair of what looked like lone ranger masks. They were thick enough over the eyes to protect the girls’ eyeballs from being split by glass shards on the fist of her opponent. None of the rest of their beautiful nakedness had any form of protection. All of their bodies, except for their eyes, were completely vulnerable.

“I think I know how this is rigged,” Billy said. “Watch the nude woman with the butt tail closely, and keep a sharp eye on what she does with that broad canvas strip.”

She had her back to the fighters, and put the band of canvas down carefully. So far only Lilly’s taped hands bore glass. Jackson saw Billy was right. She tilted the strip, spilled the tiny glass shards onto the floor of the ring, and picked up a can to sprinkle fresh glass bits onto the strip.

She stood up and offered it to Maggie, who reluctantly dipped her fists into the canvas sling, pressing down hard so that glass particles would adhere to the coating of soft glue. She was too wound up to notice there were no pieces of glass on the canvas that could do any kind of severe damage to the fine smooth skin Lilly displayed.

“There you go,” Billy said, “look at the difference. She’s got little more than glass powder on the tape on her fists. It will be like hitting Lilly with sandpaper. See the difference in the light reflected from each girl’s fists? Lilly’s got real shards that can do serious damage. This cunt fight is definitely going to be a fucking massacre!”

The nude woman with the tail sprayed a fixative onto the taped fists of both girls to harden the glue, locking onto it the pieces of broken glass. “Lilly is going to get her way tonight,” Billy observed. “She thinks this is a one off, and after the fight she can go home. What she doesn’t know is that she’s signed away everything, and is now the property of D-Ring as a permanent cunt fighter.”

Jackson smiled, impressed. “I certainly hope so.” They both placed big bets on Lilly, expecting few in the audience noticed or if they did, understood the switch. Most of them would have their eyes on the girls’ displayed naked cunts, looking forward to the violence that would ensue with the glass-coated tape on their fists. When people are preoccupied with sex and the expectation of violence, they miss a secret switcheroo.”

The MC and the naked woman with her tail quickly got out of the ring, and the handlers were right behind them. The two amateur nude girls charged at each other, thinking nothing of defense. It was all about cutting the other with the small shards of broken glass on their fists. Maggie struck the first blow, scratching her right fist across Lily’s forehead, scraping the skin and drawing blood.

Lilly countered with a cross to Maggie’s left breast, digging deep blood-gushing groves across the smooth skin and fat below it. The audience was startled at the difference in damage the two girls did to each other. It wasn’t that Lilly was the better fighter, but that she did so much more damage with what appeared to be an equal punch.

It was immediately evident the playing field was severely tilted in Lilly’s favor. Blow after blow did damage to Maggie’s naked meat, and there was nothing Maggie could do about it. Jackson was thrilled by how he reacted to the unbounded violence going on in the ring, and found it necessary to open his fly to allow his penis to ejaculate great globs of cum into his kerchief without messing his pants.

Lilly focused on Maggie’s big breasts at first, ripping them to shreds with a merciless volley. She then went at the screaming girl’s face, slicing her nose, cheeks and lips, and wishing the mask was gone so she could demolish the horrified bitch’s fucking eyeballs.

The passionate ferocity of the violent, ruthless and merciless onslaught was much more than Maggie could endure, and to the delight of the audience she bent forward, her round buttocks spread, the pink aperture of her starfish anus opened, and she slowly ejected a firm moist fecal log.

The damage was far from equal. Lilly bore only scrapes and bruises. Her taped glass-lined fists were covered with blood, but it was not her own. Maggie was continually moving back as the merciless fists pounded her meat, and one of her high-heeled shit-covered shoes stepped on the puddle of semen left by the dancers.

What happened shifted the direction of the fight even further. Her foot slipped out from under her, and she went down hard, landing flat on her back. One arm went back to break her fall, and the forearm broke from the impact. Her buttocks landed on the broken glass that had been purposefully spilled onto the ring’s canvas floor.

The pain from the break of her arm and of the slashes she had taken from Lilly’s fists covered the fresh pain of sharp glass edges cutting into her shapely ass. The defeated bitch was stunned, and now totally vulnerable to whatever harm Lilly wished to inflict on her.

Lilly immediately dropped onto her, putting her rectum over Maggie’s nose. She grabbed one of Maggie’s shapely legs and pulled it aside, fully exposing her cunt, making it her next target. She drove her bloodied fist repeatedly into the displayed organ, rigorously lacerating the defenseless female fuck-meat with the glass shards glued to the tape on her pounding fist.

When the cunt was fully tenderized, the MC leaped up into the ring, along with the handlers. “Was that a battle or what?” he said. “Here at D-Ring we offer our audiences the best in brutal entertainment.” The handlers had to work hard to pull Lilly off Maggie, and dragged her to the far side of the ring.

“Do you think we can salvage anything of this lovely young lady?” he asked. Maggie was unable to get up. Her body was badly battered, with deep slashes across what had been flawless skin. Her face, breasts and cunt were ruined. She was in every respect in terrible shape.

“Noooo!” shouted the audience.

“Has Lilly put her out of her misery?”

“Nooooo!” came the unanimous response.

“I agree,” said the MC. He drew his 45, cocked it and thrust the long barrel deep into the into Maggie’s ruined cunt. “I think she’s ready to accept a couple of our specially prepared lead slugs, don’t you? Would you like to see us abruptly give her a lead fuck, and to administer a major dose of lead poisoning to her inner gonads?”

“Yeeeesss!” cried the spectators.

He ripped off Maggie’s mask, to allow everyone to see the expression of horror on her face. “We are here to help Lilly have her revenge for the nasty things you did to block her advancing in her career. Unfortunately you will not count as a ring kill for her, because she did not kill you.

“It will be a special entertainment Dispatch, for the amusement and satisfaction of the audience. I want you to know I am your dispatcher, and you will entertain the audience with your death. Your vanquisher, Lilly, would have made an ideal supervisor, especially with her aggressive attitude, don’t you think, dear?”

Maggie’s jaw was badly ripped and likely broken. She was leaking blood from everywhere, and unable to speak, although she desperately tried. Her eyes bulged as she felt the MC tighten his grip on the large handgun. The barrel felt cold in the heat of her vagina.

The realization suddenly hit her that the merciless MC was really going to murder her! Right here in front of all those people! And they were all encouraging him, cheering him on! She was suddenly very angry at her mother for selling her out and putting her in this position.

Jackson amazed himself when, as the gun discharged, so did he! He produced his second ejaculation in just moments. The look on Billy’s face said that he too had sent his seed flying. The room was silent with anticipation, then suddenly the loud roar of the big gun going off in the naked young woman’s womb filled the casino.

The blast, even expected, was much more startling than was the act of shooting her in the cunt as she lay spread-eagle on the bloodstained canvas. D-Ring played for keeps, and although this was not billed as a death fight, the death that was now being delivered thrilled the audience.

Maggie’s mid-section swelled as the bullet ripped through her cervix into her uterus, expanding greatly as it moved through the tender flesh, swelling to the size of a saucer. This was what the professionals called a dum-dum, a lead projectile with a notch in the nose, designed to do maximum damage as it coursed through human meat, and very difficult to extract from the living wounded.

As Maggie’s waist settled, the second explosion of the gun followed, and this time her waist expanded as if she were pregnant, except the abrupt swelling was on her sides as well as her belly. Her interior of viscera and organs was being rapidly reduced to incoherent stew.

The power of the sudden blast sent a jet of liquefied entrails out through Maggie’s spread rectum, which splashed as a bloody mess onto the MC’s fist and arm. This was intolerable, and Maggie had made the MC very angry. The blast had killed her instantly, which meant he no longer had the chance to wreck revenge on her.

He withdrew his pistol from her vagina and exited the ring, disgusted at what the girl he had just killed had inadvertently done to him. The handlers picked up the young lady’s ruined carcass, lifted it high to display it to anyone in the audience interested, and then removed it and themselves from the infamous D-Ring.

“That was fucking spectacular,” Jackson said, and Billy agreed. Their waitress brought them their winnings and fresh drinks as they wiped their own cum from the tips of their dongs and tucked in their sagging penises. “I’m anxious to see how the casino’s producers are going to top that!”


CHAPTER 11 – Meeting of Minds


Martha had no idea what Jackson had in mind when he called her into his den. She sat when he waved her into a chair, and sat quietly, her hands folded in her lap, as he decided how he would begin. Her husband had easily caught her attention when they were in college; he was a brilliant man with great prospects for the future, and had excellent connections. She was subservient to him by choice.

Jackson came from a wealthy family, and had on his own built a fortune in international trade. He was now worth nearly half a billion, and because they had married right after graduation, Martha had never begun a career, but instead had chosen to build a credible reputation through philanthropy.

That worked very well for her, gaining her an enviable list of contacts. Soon after their marriage she had inherited more than 50 million in sound investments, and in the 40 years since they married, astute investing had steadily grown her portfolio to the point that it was now worth well over 300 million.

Something she did not know about Jackson was that his shipping company had developed special containers that could be used to ship human cargo. He operated a thriving business in transporting women and girls. He assumed it was mostly for use in the sex trade, but he knew much better than to ask.

The young women and children he transported were all undocumented, and had simply disappeared from their home countries. He personally supervised loading and unloading, and was impressed at the uniform beauty of the creatures assigned to his care for transportation.

He transported females around the world, from and to many countries, and many of his cargo were disappeared American women and girls. Their family and friends would never again see them. Their documentation bulged the folders in the cold case filing cabinets. They were gone without a trace.

Many others were brought to America and warehoused, to be put to work in situations in which there was, for several reasons, very high turnover, with a high risk of an early death. The warehouses were developed to ensure a dependable supply of beauties as soon as they were required.

What they were required for was something Jackson knew better than to ask about. His company was just a cog in an enormous machine, but his imagination filled in many of the blanks, more accurately than he could know.

Their home in Las Vegas was modest, compared to their net worth, but was perfect for the two of them, and served as an excellent venue for the social evenings they held frequently. The home had 4 guest rooms and an indoor pool, which meant it could be used even in the heat of summer.

Both of them kept themselves in good shape. Neither could wear clothes from their early marriage, but although they had both picked up several pounds over the years, they maintained good body tone, and they both had a personal tailor on retainer. Both had a circle of close friends and independent social lives. It was unusual for Jackson to call Martha to a private meeting.

“I don’t want to shock you, dear,” he began, “but I’ve stumbled across some quite unusual activity that I think might present the opportunity for an interesting new business. Although you’ve never outwardly displayed interest in this kind of undertakings, I thought it might contain some stimulating as well as financially rewarding potential for us both.

“On my visit to Washington I had drinks one evening with a prominent lobbyist,” he lied, “who mentioned he discovered his wife was involved in a curious pastime. Were you aware some women arrange social events, in which quite young children, little girls between 5 and 8-years old, are encouraged to fight each other, nearly naked?”

Martha replied in her usual calm. She was often unflappable. “Yes, I’ve heard of it. Apparently some women have organized it as an amusing sport. I understand there is a loose network of women, many of them mothers, across the country that organize private meetings at homes, where little girls are encouraged to take part.

“Although the organization is relatively loose, the standards and procedures for operation and hosting parties is strictly laid out, and enforced. The parties all unfold in a similar manner, and although the events unfold as they will, the equipment used is standardized.

“Kiddie fighting has developed into an intriguing sport, a titillating activity for ladies only, with only very young little girls participating, no little boys. It is practiced right across the country, and in a few others as well, but the organization is sporadic, and varies from city to city. The basic equipment, an electrified ring, is standard everywhere. They’re all produced by the same company, who are not sure what they’re for.”

“Do you know any women currently active?”

“In fact I do. Those who have them will sometimes enter their daughters. They don’t seem to be concerned that they might get hurt. I understand these informal clubs are quite popular. The put on a kiddie fight party at least once a month here, and in larger centers they’re often held weekly. Women have to apply months in advance to get one”

“And the children are permitted, encouraged by the women attending, including their mothers, to hurt each other?”

“Oh my goodness, I understand the women, particularly the mothers, do in fact encourage it. Bruises, cuts, scratches and bloody noses are expected. They have created their own erotic sport.”

“You’re certain the ladies find nude little girls beating on each other to be erotic?”

“I’ve been told everybody masturbates during the fights. What does that tell you?”

“That the diapers are a mistake.”

For the first time Martha showed surprise, at the mention of diapers, realizing her husband had seen some of the videos in her collection. She had never mentioned anything about diapering the little girls. However, she did have her opinions on the practice, and was in agreement with her husband. Diapers diluted the thrill of child nudity for the fights, and simply hid the goodies.

“I know diapers reduce the mess,” he continued, “but splashes or smears of blood are more difficult to clean. There’s not much that’s more erotic than watching a little girl’s naked cuntlet taking a beating with fists and feet, and if the stressed little darlings accidentally let loose to piss and shit on the mat while they get themselves ruthlessly beaten by their peers, that’s simply a bonus.

“Instead of seeing the little darlings dirtying their diapers, the ladies would probably love to have an unobstructed view of the combative kiddies’ inadvertent pee and stinky offal production. That would be a clear indicator of the extreme nature of their distress, beyond enjoying her delightful screams. A quick spray of Febreze should protect the sensitive noses in the audience.

“Anyone wanting the honor to host a fight party should be prepared to do the cleanup of whatever mess the kiddies produce in the heat of battle. As long as the mothers want to see damage, I would guess the girl’s bare pussy is the best possible target. Putting a diaper on them just to retain ‘accidents’ reduces possible hurt to their vulnerable groins, and is definitely a mistake.”

“I agree,” she said, “Having these little kids nude is entirely the point,” He could see as she spoke that her breathing rate was gradually increasing. “We shouldn’t be catering to the party hostesses who aren’t into a complete cleanup afterwards, because you’re right, the diapers do block a full view of the little girls’ enticingly hot sexuality.

“Why would we have their titless tops bare if their cute little bums and sexy cunnies are not naked as well? The reason for them not wearing clothes is that their delightfully sexy little bodies are a turn-on, and blocking the view of their little cunts and bottoms also hides the act of urination and production of their cute little stools.

“Those women who have them, bring their little daughters to fight nude, and the thrill is not in a win, but in seeing their little darlings, the love of their hearts, being severely battered and beaten by another woman’s little brat. Their fondest wish is to see their own little girl’s naked body getting pummeled and bloodied until they scream. Isn’t that delightful?

“It’s entirely counter-intuitive, but their lust for violence to their own daughters makes this amazing carnal kiddie sport possible. If the girls always won, the mothers would stay home, and keep their children with them. I think part of the mothers’ turn-on is empathy for their daughter’s pain, but that’s just my opinion.

“Can you believe that most mothers bet on the other woman’s little girl? They scream in ecstasy while their own naked little sweetheart’s nose bleeds, and the kid screams in pain, hoping her mommy will rescue her. In fact Mommy is too busy masturbating and experiencing an amazing orgasm at the brutality of the beating. A rescue would diminish the mother’s enjoyment of the affair.

Sometime the fights get very nasty, and are allowed to go on until one of the kiddies is knocked out cold.” Martha’s hand was buried in her skirt, and it was actively stroking her vagina. She was turning herself on by the vivid description she was providing to her husband.

“Well now,” Jackson responded, “could you imagine how much further the women would allow the little girls in the ring to go if they had no ties to them? Of course the mothers can always let their daughters get bruised and bloodied, but imagine what could happen if they had a dependable source of disposable stock, girls nobody knew.

“I’m speaking of unknown daughters, technically non-persons, with no identified ties, and surrogate, uncaring mothers. A supply of pretty little girls nobody had ever seen before. There would be no rational reason to ever stop a fight.” Now his respiration rate was increasing as well. His penis was erect, rigid and throbbing.

“It would be particularly interesting if on occasion we provided the little girls with some interesting weapons,” he said, his heart pounding. “This kind of ferocious lust-inspiring sexual sport, completely unbridled, properly designed and managed, could become a very lucrative goldmine for us.”

“My goodness, dear,” she said, shifting in her seat, “wouldn’t that be interesting. I believe that having little girls we could call ‘it’ instead of ‘she’ would remove all constraints, and the women who enjoy that kind of activity would, I’m sure, likely be eager to explore an exciting new range of productive and thrilling possibilities.

“The women I know who regularly attend these parties are open to more intensity, more violence and more physical and emotional damage to the little participants, whether or not their mother is at ringside. They are primarily out for blood, the more the better.

“There could, if we wished, be no boundaries. None at all. Can you imagine how exciting it could be if we, uh, they, allowed the naked little girls to go the distance, and actually kill each other? My God,” Martha gasped, “I had no idea I could have such excitingly degenerate thoughts.”

“That could indeed be the where we take this” Jackson said. “Imagine it. People would pay handsomely to witness such bouts, in which little girls are encouraged, even expected, to kill each other. We could go much further, and invent sports and games for nude little girls, in which a variety of deadly accidents are designed into them.”

Martha was leaning back in her chair, in the throes of a massive orgasm, induced by their conversation.

“By the way,” Jackson continued, “my friend said his wife is quite involved in kiddie fight events, and has even hosted one at their Reno home, and he suspects at their home here in Las Vegas as well. This is where they usually live. Have you ever met Helen Regent?”

“I was sure she was active in the sport,” Martha said, “She was here for coffee Thursday. You can always tell from a person’s manner, can’t you,” she asked rhetorically.

Jackson brought the screen alive and started a video on his computer. It was the one shot with his secret surveillance system in their home. One of the early fights was in progress, and he paused it. When she saw it Martha remained cool and didn’t bat an eye.

“That’s her making nice with that blonde woman,” she said, as if this was the kind of video they regularly watched. “She’s a resource to the sport across America. She trains children in the fine art of posture, physical genital display while fighting, and in punching technique for best hurting their opponent. I would guess the sport is better and more satisfying because of her contributions.”

“What we’re seeing here in these kiddie fight parties with women only is just a first step,” Jackson pointed out, “and it proves there is a real appetite for this kind of action. I’d guess you have a hundred fans at your fight party here, and they’re only women.

“If you put this kind of sport into a larger venue, something like a community hall, a private club’s gym, on stage in a theater or even in a sheltered meadow at a farm, you could accommodate hundreds of fans. Men would certainly love to watch this kind of sport too.”

He hit play again. On the screen the younger Asian girl was flat on her back, and the 7-year-old black girl was straddling her, pounding her bare fists into the once pretty bloodied and swollen face. “I’m convinced people, both men and women, will pay well to enjoy watching naked little girls engaged in extreme combat.”

“This falls a bit short of extreme,” Martha said. “It’s actually comparatively tame. I’m intrigued by the concept you mentioned of developing a stock of disposable little girls. No ties, no loss. There would be no reason to ever stop a fight, no matter what was happening.”

“Obtaining kids is not an issue, trust me,” Jackson assured her. “Little girls are being obtained and shipped hidden in bulk goods regularly. It’s a big part of the white slave trade, a business that is burgeoning. Brazilians, Thai, Americans, Europeans, it doesn’t matter, there is a use for all of them, from infants to educated women as old as 35.

“With my business, I have ready access to kids from around the world, of any race, age or culture. A naked little girl is a naked little girl, no matter where she comes from or her background. Once she’s obtained, she can be delivered anywhere. This is an easy part of the business.

“Most of them go straight into pornography mills, exclusive private clubs and the sex trade. The systems are in place, and a live performance or video snuff is their eventual end. We are now talking of a lucrative new use for the disposable little ones. I’ll set up a company. You organize the events. To make it work we’ll have to begin on a large scale, go international from the get-go.”


. . . to be continued

 No.6607

This is great stuff. I wish I could do more than just leave a comment, though. Thanks for writing.

 No.6622

Dear Anonymous,

There is much more you can do, if you seriously wish you could do more than comment; start writing. Put your fantasies into text, and learn from my experience - don't post your 1st draft. In proof reading, you will continually improve how you have expressed thoughts, and your work will steadily improve.

 No.6668

CHAPTER 13 – High Drop & Novice Fight


The whole casino was awash with the aroma of freshly spilled semen, generated by the thrilling intensity of the Maggie’s merciless killing. “I can’t imagine why I’ve never come to an event at one of these amazing casinos before. I’ve no objection to gambling, nor has it particularly interested me. These outstandingly stimulating sports are reason enough to come regularly.”

“First of all,” Billy said, “you’ve got to see it first hand to believe how powerful an experience like this can be. Those who hear of these fights from friends don’t grasp what a great form of entertainment this is. I’m guessing you’ll be back before long, and attend as often as you can, now that you know what it’s all about. Every fight ends differently.

“There are D-Ring Casinos in several American cities, including yours. The one in Miami is on a birthed ship, and the fight ring is below sea level, where they can stage equally violent fights between naked little girls. Strangely, it’s all because of fishing rights for Native Americans. I’m not sure how that works. I’ve never been, but I’ll be there later this year, and am looking forward to seeing how they’re handling it.

“The kiddie thing has yet to catch on, mainly because of legal issues, but I believe it has great potential. I’ve heard there are mothers who hold afternoon tea parties where they pit their daughters against each other, and they fight naked. Apparently it’s an women only thing, but what the fuck, there’s nothing to stop someone from opening it up.”

The next between-bout entertainment had started. It featured a muscular young aerialist, who for 20 minutes did acrobatics, with a posing 15-year-old partner supported only by his erection planted deep in her cunt. He swung suspended by a stout rope; the young girl had none. Her only support was the grip of her cunt on his stiff erection.

That afternoon the two had practiced their routine safely on the ground. She was new, replacing an equally young performer who would no longer be working with him. He told his new partner that the previous girl had found a new, safer opportunity, with much less risk.

Part way through the act she reached back to his hips and raised her cunt off him. She lifted a shapely leg and carefully turned around while they were high in the air. She then lowered her rectum onto his shaft. The flared head of his dick easily found the starfish of her anus, and with a thrust he drove it deep into her.

She was now relying on this support, and on the firm grip of her rectum on his erection. From this point onward it would be her only means of staying with him. They were far above the D-Ring canvas. The young girl was in an incredibly tenuous position, in imminent danger of a perilous fall.

“This guy’s been a big hit here for months,” Billy said,” doing his thing every night.”

“What about his beautiful young partner?” Jackson asked.

“His partners are all a hit too, but in their own special way.”

The winch holding his rigging lifted them almost to the casino’s high ceiling, and then the aerialist started swinging his legs. He swung them forward and back several times, each time increasing the breadth of movement and their height, until he managed to swing his legs back so that he lay horizontal, his face pointing downward.

The young girl desperately gripping his stout rigid dick with her anus screamed as she began to slip forward, and within seconds she lost her rectal hold and slid off his stiff prick. She plunged to her death in the ring, landing on the top of her head, driving it down between her shoulders.

The pretty and daring 14-year-old aerialist’s torso split open like a slammed frog when she hit the canvas. She, like her predecessor, had now found a less risky position. Now there was not only blood but also a substantial deposit of teen gore on the canvas to deal with.

“See what I said,” Billy boasted. “Every night the guy’s partner is a splattering hit! In fact they bill his show as a splatter act.”

“Magnificent!” Jackson observed.

“People bet on which way she lands,” Billy said. When she landed on her head the nude young girl smash in her skull and broke her neck, compressing it into her spine. Not knowing it was coming, Jackson had not placed a bet on how the young cunt would meet her violent end.

It was clear that life was not only expendable in the D-Ring casinos, but that shocking female deaths was the major draw. Jackson was in agreement with their business plan, and was thinking how he could adopt it. He was gaining a better appreciation of the value of cunt killing sport as a draw for gamblers, and that the sport was growing.

For a price anything could be had, and the life of a young ambitious cunt was not too much to spend to earn the large profits the casino brought in. Making a few exciting kills of daring naked young ladies was not an unreasonable price for doing business.

Jackson was certain even the taking many young lives of easily available young girls was worth while when great sums of money were on the line. His objective now was to get to the head of the line, so that the vast amounts of money the sport produced rolled his way.

After all, they were, when it came right down to it, sacrificing the lives of even educated and privileged daughters was a reasonable enterprise, when the price was right. Girls of any race, religion or social standing were at best nothing but cunts, and only pimps put great value on cunts.

That was just the way the world worked, and Jackson was expert at finding things that worked, turning a handsome profit from unusual opportunities. He was storing everything that turned him on, trusting his instinct that what turned him on would also turn on gamblers he planned to serve.

The broken carcass of the 15-year-old short-term aerialist was pulled from the ring for disposal, and the MC once more leaped onto the platform and climbed into the ring, his microphone in hand. He had cleaned himself up, and probably had popped another organ enhancer, because his penis was as erect and rigid as ever.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I hope you enjoyed that daring display by our star aerialist and his delightfully daring young partner. I want to assure you he has already found an eager new colleague, another 15-year-old beauty to work nude with him, taking the place of the girl who performed that spectacular dive and splatter!”

The audience gave a round of applause to the aerialist, who was just now lowered to the ring to step out of his harness. His penis was firmly erect, and he was ejaculating from the trill of providing his young partner the chance to do her unavoidable and spectacular death dive.

He bowed in accepting their acknowledgement, and then stepped out of the ring and departed, the sole survivor of his duo act, as was the case every night. The handler’s reappeared, this time each holding the leash of nude women. The leash was attached to their collars, and their wrists were cuffed behind their backs.

The two naked ladies wore spike heels, with plastic tops that showed their beautiful bare feet with brightly painted nails, and tight ankle straps. As they approached Jackson saw their collars, cuffs and anklets had long sharp spikes attached. This was going to be good! As they were boosted up onto the platform and through the ropes, Jackson saw another startling feature.

Both of the combatants were wearing a sharp 3-inch upward curving spike strapped to her left knee! A closer look showed that the upper edge of the spike was very sharp, making potentially good gutting weapons. These shapely nude young ladies with perfect figures were well armed and likely to put on a bloody show.

The spikes on their collars and cuffs, and particularly the vicious sharp-edged hooks on their left knee ensured that blood would flow. Jackson was glad to see that neither wore a ponytail. They appeared to be perfectly matched. He hoped one of them would be able to open her opponent’s belly. He had never before witnessed a beautiful young woman being eviscerated.

As they stood, wearing only their heels, leashed collars, cuffs and knee spikes, they showed their outstanding bodies to the maximum effect. Jackson judged that the dirty blonde stood a bit more erect, and the girl with shiny black hair with long bangs stood in a slight semi-crouch, as if ready to spring. There was no doubt both were high on speed.

Both stood with their long shapely legs parted, slowly turning, giving the audience a great look at their well-prepared highly aroused clean-shaved cunts, decorated with open dangling ring-pierced inner lips. After giving it due consideration, Jackson picked the dirty blonde to back, and Billy decided on backing the black haired bitch.

The MC introduced their event. “Ladies and Gentlemen, it’s time for our main event, featuring a gorgeous pair of true professionals! This will be what you all came expecting to see, a fight to the death! This contest is between a pair of equally experienced fighters, Rita in the red cuffs, and Chelsea in the yellow cuffs, each with excellent credentials at the senior death fight level.

“Both came into our system in the same manner as Lilly, with a strong personal agenda. They wanted to defeat a girl they nominated, and they were so successful in doing serious damage in their first hate-driven fight that their opponents had a Maggie moment, having an intimate moment hosting a pistol in their vagina, to take in expanding lead and be blown away. That was a terrific start to their career with us.

“Rita came into our organization through our Seattle casino, and Chelsea, a Brit, through our casino in the eastern suburbs of London. Before they reached the senior level, both of them moved quickly through the amateur level, defeating well matched girls while thrilling the crowds by spilling their foe’s blood on the canvas.

“At every level, between bouts they were trained to do better, learning new fight skills they will demonstrate to you tonight, while both are eagerly and desperately fighting for their lives. This is as good as it gets.” He was padding time to allow the gamblers to place their bets, and for the naked young girls to collect and register them.

“You are about to witness the Queen of Fights! When they were ready they were promoted to the senior level, to participate in death fights, with everything on the line. These dazzling damsels have executed 5 consecutive and convincing cunt-kills each!”

The audience chuckled with his schoolboy play on words, but did not want to encourage him with his jokes. They were past the point for hearing mindless puns, and were ready for the real thing. They wanted to see more blood, and were eager to witness a spectacular cunt kill.

“The Queen of Fights. That’s an interesting concept. Is there a King of Fights?” Jackson asked.

“Absolutely,” Billy responded. “They only have one about once a month. They put three fighters into the ring, all strangers. Although it’s an unplanned free-for-all, it always turns out that two of them will gang up on the third, which can be any one of them, and when they’ve killed her, they go after each other.

You never know which one will be the victim, but with two of them on her, it’s fucking brutal.

“It is really spectacular, and with 2 fighters killed in a single bout, minimum bets are $1,000. Most gamblers will put up 10 grand, and a third of them are losers when the first cunt hits the canvas. I saw one that went on and on. It was 45 minutes before they killed the first girl, and the second to die lasted more than an hour and a half.

“There was more blood, shit and piss spilled that night than I’ve ever seen! The winner managed to get the heel of one of her spikes into the belly of the second to fall, and she actually succeeded in getting some of her viscera out of her! Unless they’re armed like these two tonight, you seldom get to see a bitch’s guts spilled.

“Evisceration is so uncommon, it’s a house policy that when a cunt gets herself gutted, the payout is increased by 20%. It’s a big deal in these cunt-fights.” For some reason, gamblers get really turned on to see a lady’s guts being pulled out of her. It’s definitely going to be a kill when that happens, and all you can smell in the casino is spurting cum.

“The only thing bigger is the Emperor Fights. That’s where they make an exception to no male fighters rule. They’ll do a 2 on 3, two men against 3 cunts. They develop guys with amazing punching capability, and these fights go pretty fast. The cunts are given padded boxing gloves, securely strapped on, and the guys use their taped fists.

“It’s no fucking contest. They’ve got a couple of guys who punch so hard they can cave in a cunt’s chest by punching her in the ribs. They’ll crack cheekbones, break jaws, and a single punch to the jaw can break a cunt’s fucking neck. No shit. They always rip a woman with an open-fist punch to the belly so that their fingers are driven into her navel.

“With fingers from both hands inside her, they rip her fucking belly open. It’s the most spectacular gutting act I’ve ever seen. The best part of it is they reach down and jerk out her uterus, with her ovaries flapping in full sight. The bitches always scream beautifully when this happens. The guys in the ring always ejaculate when the cunt gives up her gonads. They only have Emperor Fights twice a year at each casino.”

“I can imagine why. Those events sounds amazing,” Jackson said. “What are the economics of this operation?” He was doing the math on how he was going to get something similar going. He was certain he was going to do it, and with the kind of privacy he planned, he felt he could successfully introduce the use of much younger little girls, which when naked caused him more than a little interest.

“The cost of introducing and bringing a fighting woman to this level is considerable,” Billy explained,” and tonight that cost is being spent in promising the death of one of them. Gambling in the casino alone would make this a very profitable enterprise, but that’s only 1/10 of what will be brought in by internet gambling on this lethal bout.

*

“Everyone present has paid $500 to attend, to witness live the ruthless carnage in the ring. That’s a one million dollar gate. Hundreds of thousands of online gamblers pay $200 to watch the bout with live streaming on the dark-net, otherwise known as Usenet. They will wager millions in total for this one fight. As you can see, this is a big time business.

“The $200 fee for watching the main bout live online also includes viewing both of the preliminary bouts. Every now and again they get the pleasure of watching under-age girls duke it out nude, like we saw tonight. Probably half a million was wagered on the brutal punishment fight between the 11-year-old serving girls by online gamblers.

The unplanned dispatching of that badly damaged Maggie was an amazing bonus for everyone, but D-Ring can easily afford such unexpected costs. Operating these casinos is like having a license to print money. More than three million was wagered on the amateur fight alone.”

“Incredible,” Jackson observed.

The MC picked up his narrative. “We move the girls we’re developing as professional fighters around the world as they progress, giving them varied experience against SE Asians, South Americans, Europeans and other American cunts. It is important also that audiences don’t get used to them, as knowledge of their ability and weaknesses could negatively affect wagering.

“Their wrists are cuffed behind them now to keep them from starting the fight prematurely. The cuffs stay on, but they’ll be unlinked. The rule about gouging does not apply in the professional death cunt-fights. These girls can do anything they want to take out their opponent, and we expect them to get super-tough.

“Have you all placed your bets? I hope so, because wagering is now closed! It’s fight time! Get ready for the hottest violent action available anywhere!” Pointing to the handlers, he said with authority, “Gentlemen, release these beautiful ladies’ leashes and cuffs, and then get your fucking asses the hell out of the ring!”

The handlers did as instructed, unclipping the leashes and cuffs, and quickly followed the MC through the ropes. The women ignored them, and moved toward each other. This was the action Jackson had been looking forward to seeing all evening. The fight was under way.

Unlike the amateurs, these two did not charge each other, but instead moved slowly, circling and measuring each other before committing to a blow. This was the first time they had seen each other, and it was to be the last. One of them was about to die, and both girls were fully committed to it being the other that fell.

Their sole objective was to win, defeating their adversary at any cost. The price of losing in this business was their life. That’s what the gamblers came to see, and demanded nothing less. D-Ring’s primary product was the violent death of beautiful naked young women, killed while desperately fighting for their lives. In nearly a century of operation, the multi-national corporation had perfected the form.

Chelsea made the first move, swinging her spiked wrist-cuff at Rita’s head. Rita saw it coming, and knew that with a limb extended, Chelsea was vulnerable. She blocked the flying arm with her left hand, swung her own right hand at Chelsea’s breast, and at the same time drove the spike on her left knee up into Chelsea’s groin, sinking it’s full depth into the hollow between her pubic mound and groin.

Rita held her knee where it was as she pushed Chelsea back into the ropes, so there were only 3 spike-heeled shoes on the deck. She moved her raised leg around, digging a wider hole in the meat of her opponent, while she used her wrist cuffs on the pinned beauty’s face and breasts.

Chelsea had not made 5 ring kills in her career by taking bad thrashings from her opponents. She put her wrists to work on Rita’s breasts and ribs, slashing them with her cuffs’ spikes so that both women were producing blood. This was the kind of action the gamblers loved to see, and it was clear the contest was not likely to end early.

Suddenly she grabbed Rita, with her arms around her so that her cuffs dug trenches in the flesh of her back, and pushed hard, forcing Rita to withdraw the knee spike buried in her groin. This was necessary because of the need to have both of her feet working to maintain her balance. Going down would provide Chelsea with an enormous advantage.

Once a woman fell to the canvas, the sudden disadvantage was enormous, and frequently she ended up as the final loser. As winners up until now, both of these combatants understood that. Job number 1 was to remain on their feet. Chelsea had worked that knowledge to get Rita’s knee spike out of her groin. Rita wrapped her arms around Chelsea as well, and dug her wrist-cuff spikes into her back.

In a brief moment of inspiration she pulled downward and then leaning in, thrust her collar spikes hard into the side if Chelsea’s face. The sharp protrusions ripped a nerve, tore muscle and caused the British woman’s jaw to sag open, as if she were gasping in surprise. Chelsea was no longer able to close her mouth. In Jackson’s view, the violent cunt-fight was progressing nicely.

“This is a very marketable form of entertainment, and has outstanding potential to produce huge profits, by going beyond what D-Ring is doing,” Jackson said. “I would think a major part of setting up something similar would be resourcing suitable women and girls to participate.”

“It’s not as difficult as it might appear,” Billy responded, as Jackson knew he would. “That load you just brought me from Cambodia was put together for me by a company that can provide as many as I want, of any age, from any country. This batch is headed to a Houston whorehouse that features kids, the Quarter Horse & Pony.”


CHAPTER 14 – Two Parallel Paths


“The kiddie fight events are always held in private homes,” Martha said, “for security reasons. Do you see that changing?”

“Not for most of these mother-daughter events, but we could begin to look at expanded events that require a larger venue. But I think we could purchase or build a remote resort, one that would be totally secure for more advanced fans, with events to match.

There would be no constraints on what could happen if we had total security and full control of the grounds. For the home events we could consider some small changes, and do a few feather proceedings that would require a larger audience to make it profitable. How much did the ladies pay to attend the event here?”

“$100. Each. I had few expenses, so cleared nearly $10,000 for hosting the fight party. The parents paid an entry fee of $200, but there were only six participants. I put up the mothers of the girls from Europe in our guest rooms, and they paid their own way here, as well as the entry fee. They weren’t in the least interested in a win; they both wanted to see their little darling beaten to a pulp.”

“This sport has much more potential than that. Did you see that Honduras Hardball video?” he asked. “The tug of war and the deep spiked pit?” Before she responded, he added, “That’s the direction we’ll want to go. Fully intentional sports kills. The demand for live shows and online videos like that should be outstanding. Did you see it?”

“Those videos are not only online,” she said. “I bought them, and I’ve stored them on a hard drive. They are not available for viewing online, but I have the code. They can only be downloaded by very special arrangement. As you’re aware, they don’t meet the age and content standards for websites in almost all countries.”

“But I saw them online,” he said, confused.

“Only the directory is online. The titles are links to the files on one of my hard drives. Yes, I’ve seen them all. I produced several of the shows in the homes where they were made, around the area, and a couple in New York as well. The beatings and rapes of those bound 12-year-old girls were done in a New York bar.”

“Well, aren’t you a cunt, my dear,” he observed.

“I am indeed, my sweet prick,” she said. Where had this woman been all his life? He had married her for her looks and brains, and it didn’t hurt that she also had money. They still engaged in sex once a week, but he had no idea that he had as a partner a kindred spirit.

“I see the business pursuing parallel paths. The mother and daughter parties could continue as they do now, but we take complete control, and institute some necessary changes. The second path would be for much more exotic events, which would be staged at a resort.

“To make a resort work, we’d want to clear half a million every weekend. I’m thinking a fee of $7 grand for the weekend, and we pick up transportation costs. That’s with 100 fans for each event. I know of a resort on a Caribbean island that has a paved airstrip that can take the STOL version of Fokker 70 jet aircraft.

“If we had two aircraft fly in every weekend, one from Los Angeles via Houston and the other from New York via Atlanta, each in full first class configuration to carry 50 passengers, we would have a thriving business.”

“And make a killing,” Martha responded, the pun intended.

“The resort also has a small natural harbor that would be suitable for yachts and supply boats. The place is a natural, and probably available cheap. It’s been sitting unoccupied for the last 5 years.”

“That makes a big difference. We’d have to build a holding and training building, and do some renovations. Once you make the purchase, I can get that underway.”

Jackson surprised her when he abruptly grabbed a fistful of Martha’s long hair, pulled her out of the chair so that she fell to the floor, and then used her hair as a handle to drag her out of the den and more than 120 feet across the party area to a long hallway and into the nearest bedroom.

He threw her onto the round bed, tore off his own clothing and then went after hers, ripping them from her without regard for preserving any of it or for her comfort. In fact he destroyed most of her expensive garments, just to demonstrate his total control over her.

Martha grabbed his cock and balls in a fist and squeezed hard, but not hard enough to diminish the rise of his erection. He flipped her onto her stomach, propped her buttocks in the air, and pressed the broad dry head of his penis against the tiny dry starfish of her rectum.

“Gel,” she gasped under his weight pressing down on her, and looking toward a tube sitting on a side table.

Instead he got up on his knees and spit on her anus. With only his saliva as lubricant, he pressed hard, hurting his penis as much as he hurt her rectum as he forced himself deep into her. She grunted and squealed in both pain and sexual ecstasy. Her husband had never even hinted at wanting to bugger her. This was new territory for them both.

Martha had not before fully understood the degree to which she craved to be completely mastered. She knew of and enjoyed her sadistic streak, but now understood she was primarily a masochist. Being drilled up her ass was a not a new experience for her, but she found the roughness of her husband’s approach very exciting.

Jackson was proving by his actions to be more of a man than she had ever guessed. He was demonstrating forcefulness she had never before seen in him. With this powerfully delivered anal sex, he was her master, teaching her all about herself, and she loved it.

CHAPTER 15 – Quarter Horse & Pony


Jackson and Billy continued their conversation as the deadly fight in the ring in front of them progressed. “The Quarter Horse & Pony Stable is a good client of mine, that caters to wealthy oilmen, guys who prefer to engage in sex with teenage and pre-teen kiddies they call ponies. These guys have specific tastes. They want to get their pricks into little girls who are non-white, uneducated, and don’t speak English.

“My supplier collects international young women and kids, whatever age I specify, from Malaysia, The Philippians, Brazil, or anywhere I want them to come from. Every cunt he has sent me is total eye candy, gorgeous and shapely, regardless of age, and in clean health, no disease. He ships only very high quality product.

“The three countries I mentioned have the best price for their amazingly cute kids. Columbia, Nicaragua and Mexico also produce very acceptable females of all ages that are acquired for very reasonable prices. They all arrive clean and disease-free, and any old enough to grow hair on their groins and limbs are depilated, free of all body hair.”

At this point in the fight Rita gave up on the cuff spikes and went to work with her bare fists, pounding Chelsea’s head and face. Chelsea countered with blows to Rita’s mid-section, and when she saw the opportunity, gave a powerful punch to Rita’s solar plexus, knocking the wind out of her and causing her to heave forward.

That was exactly the reaction Chelsea was hoping for. She instantly drove her knee spike up into Rita’s lower belly, using Rita’s weight to help as she jerked her knee upward, putting the sharp edge to work ripping open her foe’s bacon. The audience went wild watching the woman’s belly being split open, revealing her slick gleaming intestines.

Rita desperately pounded at Chelsea, but the British bitch got her fingers into the parted flesh, and began jerking it wide open. Then she got hold of a loop of Rita’s viscera and began pulling it out of her, spreading the gore over the mat. When much of it was extracted she reached inside the fresh opening and grasping the dark liver, lurched back, and pulled the purple organ out.

Rita gave up on punching and tried desperately to tuck her tripe back into herself. She was losing ground. Chelsea pulled out long loops of gut from the spread opening, and then reached inside once more. This time she reached up and grasping Rita’s pounding heart, pulled it out of the nearly empty cavity.

Rita was still standing, but she could only watch as Chelsea grasped her extracted heart in both hands and squeezed it with all her might. Her efforts were productive and decisive. Rita’s knees bent, she sank to her knees, then pitch forward onto her face, successfully killed for the enjoyment of the gamblers. Jackson and Billy had their penises out and, like the other men in the audience, were powerfully ejaculating into the air.

The MC returned to the ring, forcefully pumping semen from his own erection. “The audience makes the call,” he shouted into the microphone. “Chelsea gave us one hell of a cunt-kill,” he said, “but do you think this audacious Brit bitch is worth repairing, or do you think she will require the services of a Dispatcher?”

“DISPATCHER,” they enthusiastically responded.

“You called it,” he said gleefully, drawing his Colt 45. “Head or cunt?”

“BOTH” was the raucous response.

“Then let’s start with the pussy!” Chelsea was standing, her legs spread and knees bent, her jaw hanging, staring at the MC in shock. He cocked the gun, and then thrust the barrel into the shocked bitch’s cunt. “One, two, three, BANG!”

The big pistol barked loudly, and an expanding lead bullet ripped into her womb. She dropped hard to her knees, but remained upright. “Let’s get the second shell into her while she’s still conscious!” he shouted, and pressed the blood-smeared barrel into her open mouth, pointed upward.

“BANG” the gun barked for a second time. This time the top of her skull blew off, in a splatter of brain and blood. The second kill was easily as spectacular as the first. The audience was ecstatic, with even the losers getting their money’s worth. The D-Ring Casino always delivered, exceeding expectations.

“That was one hell of a show,” Jackson said. I’m going to sleep like a baby tonight!”

“It was,” Billy said. “Back to our earlier discussion, I use you to handle all my transportation needs because you never ask any questions. I like that.”

“Thanks. I’m looking at putting together a new enterprise, and might be able to use your product. I’ll have to firm the details before we talk further, but it’s great to know you’re available and can deliver. I’ll need some shapely fit ladies, either with an attitude or coachable, but I suspect most of my need will be for some younger girls, 12-15.

“I’ll also be able to use lots of smaller girls, maybe 5-10, if this unfolds as I expect it will, and for serving girls, good looking 11-year-olds, like those cute girls who served us dinner and warm wine. I’m just forming the concept at the moment, but am definitely going to go ahead, one way or another. Those beautiful young waitress kids at dinner tonight were spectacular.”

“Not a problem. I can provide lots of what you need, and if I can’t deliver on specific orders, I can put you in touch with some other suppliers of quality cunts who can provide any product you’re able to describe. Some of these guys are absolutely amazing.

“They can pluck 6-year-old twin girls from a New York City park wading pool with the mother watching, and she’ll have no idea what happened, as if her little girls disappeared into thin air. I went shopping at an elementary school play in Denver, and my procurer accompanied me.

“He had collected the 4 little grade four girls I’d selected before noon the next day. He’d picked them up at recess, and just like the New York wader, they had simply disappeared. Nobody had noticed the snatch. He’s truly fucking amazing at collecting kids to order. They are as happy as pigs in poop, receiving promises of love, candy and ice cream. Of course, you wouldn’t have any use for girls that young.

“There’s no telling,” Jackson replied, “but it’s good to know they are readily available if I need them. I’m just working on a hypothesis right now, but give me a few weeks and I’ll be back to you with a more solid concept. My wife’s at our home in Vegas right now, and I’d like to get a measure of her response to this type of extreme adult entertainment. I’ve got to work out a non-disclosing way to do that.”

“In the meantime,” Billy said, “I’ll set up a meeting with the CEO of this branch of D-Ring, and get you some new transportation business. They ship their fighters to other casinos all over the world, and could profit from your expertise and capability. They are moving their entertainment personnel themselves at the moment, and would certainly profit from contracting out the transportation.

“Thanks for that, Billy. I’ll see you in the morning.”


. . . to be continued

 No.6711

CHAPTER 16 – Getting Helen On Board


Helen Regent sipped on her single malt scotch as she reclined on one of three couches in a visiting are of the vast living area of the Avery mansion. This was her second visit in a week, the first to the successful KidFight Club party Martha had hosted, that one a special national event, with a couple of European kids brought over by their mothers.

Martha’s party had been huge, by kiddie fight standards, with 100 women present, and as always, there were no men present. It was one of the most balanced and well-organized events she had attended. When Martha called her she said her husband wanted to meet with them together, as he had an innovative business proposition that was certain to interest her. She was anxious to hear what he had in mind.

Helen wanted to make an impression on Jackson Avery, and had dressed accordingly. She was wearing a micro flesh-colored bikini top, with no bottom, and over it a see-through dress, presenting to great advantage her remarkable figure, and the suggestion of her naked vulva.

The wife of Harry Regent, the successful Washington lobbyist, was voluptuous, and kept herself fit with regular daily physical workouts with a personal trainer. At 50 she had the body of a woman half her age. Her legs were bare, and she wore 5 inch spiked string sandals to enhance the impact of her already strikingly beautiful legs.

Helen’s center of lustful pleasure was the center of her life. She was tall, definitely a lesbian butch, and totally cunt-centric. In the hedonistic world of the women’s masturbating KidFight Club, the quintessential lesbian knew how to get women turned on, using the overt aggression of naked little girls to raise their passions.

A friend had introduced her to kiddie fights years ago when her daughter, now 21, had been 4. The friend from her university years and the mother of a 5-year-old, was over having morning coffee when their little girls, playing in the back yard, got into a scrap over a doll. The 5-year-old, six months older than the smaller child, had punched Helen’s daughter in the nose, and caused it to bleed.

The injured child ran screaming into the kitchen, moving to her mother and pressing her face into Helen’s dress. Helen was startled to see her daughter’s bloody nose being rubbed into her dress, and without thinking, screamed at the child and slapped her hard on her face. The startled little one screamed and ran back outside.

“Good blow!” her friend observed. “Kids have the most weird expectations. She thought she was going to be comforted.”

“Ha! Look at my dress!” Helen said, “The thoughtless little brat has ruined my dress!”

“You gave her a pretty good shot,” her friend said. “Did it make you feel any better?”

“In fact it did. Sometimes a good shot is what kids need.”

“If you believe that, I have a proposition that should interest you. There is an amusing kind of party where little girls are involved, fighting each other, so that they do the hurting for you. Have you ever heard of KidFight Clubs? They call their events parties, and they pretty much are.”

“No,” Helen said, her hand still stinging from the slap to her daughter’s face. She hoped the kid hurt more than she did. “The idea sounds intriguing.”

“Let me invite you to one. They only have them occasionally, but they’re a lot of fun. Women only. It’s sort of like afternoon tea, but also quite different. The daughters get undressed and fight. There’s a special ring set up in the living room, electrified like an electric fence.

“It ensures the participants don’t spend too much time leaning on it, as it is capable of delivering substantial jolts, or if it is set for it, prolonged electric shocks. It’s a no-brainer to get women to enter their daughters. It gives the parent and her daughter a chance to let off some real steam.”

“The girls get bare naked?” she asked, incredulous.

“Pretty much. The smaller girls usually wear diapers, because when the going gets rough, they tend to pee and poo. The diapers prevent too much of a mess to clean up afterwards. We could match my daughter and yours for a rematch, this time in the ring, to see who has the best punch!”

“Do the mothers ever fight?” Helen asked, trying to get her head around the entire concept.

“No, but we’re thinking of starting events for the moms to have nude fights. Several of the younger women have asked for us to make it possible. That introduces some new challenges, because we usually get some speed into them, to make it more intense. That always works, just like the speed we sometimes give the kids.

“The problem is, once young women get at it, particularly with their moral restraints reduced by the speed and the cheering of the spectators , they might easily want not to stop, but to take it the whole distance, permanently damaging or even killing their opponent. God that would be so exciting!

I’ve heard there’s a Casino where women fight nude, and what’s so outrageous about that is they sometimes let them go the whole way. I mean a fight to the death, where they really let one of them kill the other! I can’t imagine that could be possible, so it’s likely just rumor.

“Really extreme fighting introduces all kinds of new issues. Some of us are investigating the idea of trying one, and if we get it right, buying up failed training gyms for staging these totally serious fights, but dealing with allowing a female fighter to take another woman permanently out of the scene is a challenge.

“It’s possible, but loaded with problems, like how do we dump the carcass, and what do we have to do to keep it secret? It would take a foolproof plan, and someone to properly manage it. Several of us find the idea thrilling, so we’re actively pursuing it.

“Anyway, these fights we are now doing are just for the little kids. To make it interesting for the mothers and audience they get into the ring bare naked and duke it out, joined by a short chain to their collars, and other than that, there’s no rules. The idea is they give each other bruises, scrapes and scratches, and hopefully an occasional bloody nose.

“The chain makes it so that even the reluctant kids have to fight, with no retreat. It’s really exciting. Once they get on to it, kids seem to love it! Their mothers and invited friends love it from the get-go. When the going gets hot, it really becomes a masturbation party!”

“Sounds amazing,” Helen said, not sure she fully understood.

“Only women are allowed to attend, not males, and only little girls fight. One rule is their mother must be present. Men only have prurient interests and lustful thoughts, but women are more mature, and we appreciate the sexual implications of naked little girls fighting, without making it dirty.

“The last thing we need is the degradation of our special sport by including men! There’s no telling what changes men would demand. The children are not intimidated being naked for the fight when only women are watching. We have it pretty much perfect as it stands.

“Usually we only let little girls 5 to 8 fight, because we need to maintain a minimum standard of body shaping, and the older girls get far too aggressive. If a kid is too young but has a good reason, and is past 4 and half, like your little girl, she’s allowed to get it on in the ring, kicking and punching it out with another naked little girl.

“It’s really quite exciting! Why don’t you and I enter our daughters in a fight at the next party?” She watched for a reaction, and continued, “You haven’t even attended one of these parties, but when you want to get involved in something this exciting, the best way is to dive right in.”

As bizarre as it sounded, Helen was in. She felt a stirring in her gut as she thought of the possibilities. It would be interesting to see her daughter Wanda get herself straightened out by the older girl who had already nailed her. Who knew, Wanda might even get in a haymaker of her own.

She attended the party, and as her friend had described, found it truly amazing. Her daughter lost, of course, but she entered her again, and then again, until finally, the kid got sick of getting battered, caught on and learned to land telling blows that won her some bouts.

Wanda was in a new fight every month, always with girls older and more experienced than she was, which provided the best learning experience, and with her mother’s coaching on a daily basis, she continued to improve. Her first win came just after her 5th birthday, and it was against the daughter of the friend who had introduced her to the erotic kiddie sport.

As she became a hardcore fight mom, Helen gained credibility in the sport, and had done such a good job in training Wanda that other women approached her regularly to have her train their kids for the ring. Most wanted their kid to just have enough skill to get fights with girls who would bet the crap out of them.

She obliged, and was so good at it she soon had a growing clientele around the country. She was soon well known in the major centers across the country, and her services were in demand. That experience and exposure allowed her to become a fight producer.

She bought her own electric fence ring from the only man who made them, who had her sign a form that stated her only use was to contain baby goats. She put them into the homes of women who were her clients and accepted the role of hostess for fights. Helen took the $100 per person gate, and paid the hostesses a $400 stipend for their troubles.

She would only accept homes that had a good space to set up a ring, could accommodate at least 30 guests, which was the audience needed to provided her a minimum gross of $30,000 before the entry fees. If she couldn’t make great money from the beginning, she wasn’t interested.

It was a small but real risk arranging these fight parties, and hosting a few at one of her homes. Her husband was often away in Washington with his lobbying and the running of his law firm, giving her full use of their two houses without his interference.

If she was going to make real money arranging these fights, why not be the producer, to earn the big bucks she deserved for her knowledge, experience and efforts? After costs, she was bringing in $140,000 a month before the internet sales of the fights she produced.

Life was good, and risking the bare cuntlets of other women’s children, women who were happy to allow their pretty little girls to fight nude, were paying her big dividends. The number of women involved grew, and she gave some responsibility, building herself a viable empire.

She also went to night school to learn to make and edit video, and soon she was a competent producer of kiddie fights. With her own pay site on Freenet, she was soon making serious money for her efforts. Helen had become very successful at child pornography without having that kind of outcome as her starting goal. Sometimes shit happens, but also sometimes things work out perfectly.

Although she had never met him, she knew Jackson Avery was a man who got things done, a consummate achiever. If he had anything to propose to her, she was all ears. She was happy to accept Martha’s surprise invitation. Helen Regent was a woman who got what she wanted by playing and leveraging other people’s ideas, and she knew for certain Jackson Avery was an ideas man.

Martha was seated on the couch between them, while Jackson was reclining on the plush sofa at the end. He and Martha were sipping martinis. The conversation had been casual as they settled in, and she still had no idea why she had been invited over for a drink this afternoon.

“Does Harry know what you’re up to?” Jackson asked, as if he were enquiring about the weather.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” Helen said, almost defensively. “Harry’s a very busy man, and we sometimes lead separate lives. He has his own favorite pastimes.”

“I’d never thought of buggering little boys as a pastime, but I suppose it does keep his penis busy while you’re out doing your thing. That’s really a side issue. I’m really not interested in Harry’s hobbies. What I want to talk to you about is you taking control of all the kiddie fight house parties, merging organizations, North America wide, and ramping up your video business at the same time.”

Helen was stunned. Martha kept a poker face. She had no idea the Avery’s had any knowledge of her video and Internet business. Certainly Martha couldn’t have told him, because she’d never divulged that information to her friend. She knew Martha produced some house parties, but was sure she was not in too deep.

“As you well know, the parties you produce and those you attend barely scratch the surface of what is happening from time to time around the world. I can see that there is great potential for growth in this industry, with the base already established. The fruit is ripe, ready for picking.

“I want you to supervise a full network of house parties, right across America, with most of them as they are now, but with a few separate higher end events where men are invited, but I’ll get to that later. I know you don’t want to pollute the female format already established, and I respect that.

“There will need to be a few minor changes. The one necessary change that comes to mind at the moment is a full ban on the use of diapers. They’re nothing but an unnecessary nuisance. The kids will all have to fight stark naked. That is not negotiable. We’ll keep the price to attend at $100 for now, but if access to view the videos is going to sell well, then there can be no diapers.

“Hiding their little pussies is a flaw in the system, regardless of the purpose. The kiddies’ little cuntlets have got to be on full display, full time. That’s a big draw. Pinning those silly diapers on girls who are housebroken is disgusting. And I like the use of hot pepper juice to make the pretty little beaks at the bottom of their bellies sting, swell and stand open.

“We can even look at placing some large decorative piercings of some of the children’s little puds, the kind teen girls and young professionals commonly do, but quite a bit larger and heavier. Can you imagine how charming it would be to see some decorative heavy metal suspended from the tender genitalia of cute little girls?

“I’m certain it would thrill their mothers just to have cunny-piercing suggested. We’ll need to put together some skilled specialists at body metal to take care of that aspect. It could become another steady source of revenue. Building up a comprehensive package around the thousands of little girls who participate in the delightful underground sport is the secret of success.

“If kiddies make a mess on the floor, the audience has got to be able to see it, and the hostess will have to deal with it. Floor covers seem to be working well, and when something gets stained, well, that’s part of the price of gaining status by being permitted to host an exciting afternoon of nude kiddie fights and orgasms. A small poop and pee stain on an expensive carpet can become a badge of honor.

“While you’re busy setting the new standards and developing control of the entire sport, Martha and I will set up a new offshore retreat where everything is possible, limitless rare performances, and outcomes happen the way clients want it. It will be on an island with its own harbor and airport. We’ve decided that to maximize interest and profits, the retreat will be open to both women and men.

“Unlike the home parties, where risks must be measured and reduced to easily manageable levels, the special new resort will be a place where risk is reduced to zero, meaning there will be no limits to what happens, where the most extreme becomes the expected. For this reason alone it must be invisible to both the law and to the guests.

“It will be well outside the reach of the inconvenience of law agencies, and flying entirely under the radar. Guests will have no idea where they are. Their first cocktail on the last leg of the flight will ensure that. No clocks or smartphones will be permitted. Guests will have no idea how far they have flown, or in what direction. It’s quite elegant, really.

“We will maintain a staff who will be permanent residents of our island, and as they gain trust, some will earn the right for accompanied shore excursions. I’ll have a trusted psychologist monitor the staff regularly and chart their progress. She’ll be part of the hiring process. She’s young and looks great, so she will work on site as one of the nude waitresses, so that staff won’t think of her as part of management.



. . . to be continued

 No.6731

CHAPTER 17 – The Organization’s Shrink


“My Psychologist’s name is Jeannie Collins. She has a good sense of her role, and to the right people, speaks of herself as my corporate cunt. She has been with me long enough to have earned a promotion. I knew of her interest in deviance, which was her very interesting Doctoral Thesis.

She was a promising recruit from the moment I met her. I checked out the range of her interests a couple of months ago by taking her to an underground New York club that exceeds all normal social and sexual boundaries. Not many people know of or have access to the Dire Deeds Club, but those who do have a penchant for sadism.

“Three gorgeous twenty-year-old photography models, all of them single mothers of beautiful 7-year-old daughters, were ‘hired’ to be the entertainment. In New York anything can be procured, for a price. These young ladies, we were told, used the same child-care service, and so were easily identified. The rest was simple.

“They were hired to work nude, which is commonplace in the modeling industry. This special engagement was not unusual for the mothers, and when they were told the job required their daughters to join them on stage, nude, they thought nothing of involving their pretty little girls, of course for the right price.

Nothing had been mentioned about them doing a show, or about it becoming rough for them all. That information was need-to-know, and expecting that could have compromised their ready cooperation. They knew only that there would be an audience, and both they and their little daughters would be modeling on a stage, nude.

This condition was not new to them. Frequently fine art photographers like to do sessions with mothers and daughters, and clothing is never part of that art form. Connoisseurs will pay top prices for a large framed print of naked children, modestly posed but with their gender identifier on full display, with the assumption that inclusion of the mother validates the image, and that alone explained the higher fee.

“At the beginning of the show the three young women and their young daughters were all on stage. The mothers were required to begin by undressing completely, with the exception that their spike heels must remain on. Those are standard dress for models, unless otherwise stated, nude or in clothing, and they always wear expensive very high open spikes for work.

“As photography models, they automatically kept their pubic area and armpits free of any sign of hair. The beautiful and poised young women were instructed to remove their clothing first. Music was provided, and they all did an improvised striptease. Once they were naked, they had to undress their daughters, who ended up both naked and barefoot.

“Both the mothers and daughters had sufficient experience to know they must keep their bared vaginas visible to the audience. The children had not been dressed for modeling, since their mothers had been told in advance that they and their pretty young daughters were going to be working completely nude.

“Once naked, the grade 2 daughters were lifted onto their mother’s back, and each was given a cat of nine tails. The kids were excited at first, and readily did as they were told, each lashing at the other two girls, until they realized that they too were targets. To aid their daughters in the violent competition, their human mounts constantly repositioned themselves to allow their daughters better access to the others.

“The children whipped the other two hysterically screaming kids, and of course their adult mounts received extensive collateral damage. They kept up the bizarre fight for nearly 20 minutes, until first one and then the second little girl finally dropped to the stage, losing their tentative grip on their naked human ‘horses’. Those two failures produced a winner.

“The next part of the evening was quite different. They attached strap-on dildos, adult size, to the young mothers, and they were forced to mount their kneeling little grade 2 daughters, gradually driving the inch-thick, 7 inch long plastic dongs into the little virgin cuntlets of their sharply screaming children, painfully deflowering their little girls before an appreciative audience.

“The spectators were shouting encouragement as they watched the sobbing young mothers fucking their little girls with the monstrous dildos. It was a highly stimulating and outrageous act, exactly the kind of degrading spectacle the jaded audience had come to see.

“Some members of the audience were new, as was my guest, but many of them were regulars, wealthy yuppies who viewed this kind of bizarre weekend entertainment as a rewarding way to spend money that came easily to them. If gross and sadistic sexual performances were available, dehumanizing the performers, then these yuppies were willing to pay the price to witness it. In New York an eager audience can be found for any kind of degenerate act.”

Jackson noticed that Helen’s breathing was shallow and her respiration rate accelerated as she listened. She was getting turned on. Her ruby lips were parted, and she licked them frequently. He was pleased to see that he had gained her full attention. From what he knew of her, his story took her beyond anything she had experienced to date, but he was equally certain he would be able to extend her interests substantially.

“When all three women had driven the pink plastic dongs into their children’s vaginas the full length, they withdrew them and were required to now use the same devices to bugger their little girls. The children’s rectums were dry, but their cunt fluids and blood lubricated the curved dildos, and that was considered sufficient for the task at hand.

“All of the women were hesitant to make the anal insertion of the large dildos into the virgin bum holes of their pretty little naked daughters, as none of this was part of their agreement with the club. The stagehand who had done the lifting now put a horsewhip to work on them, raising much more visible welts on the tender meat of the highly distressed ladies.

“Their knees were spread and bent as they were beautifully straining in their heels with nowhere to run, taking fresh blows from the whips, which were raising much larger angry welts on their exposed flesh than their daughters had managed. This fresh, more aggressive assault on their fully exposed lady-meat promptly changed their minds.

“It was a contest to see which of the three young women could bury the dildo its full length through the tight openings into the hysterically screaming little girl colons. Because of gradual tapers on the plastic shafts, half depth was the best they could manage without a struggle.

“From that point onward the whip was liberally applied to the hindmost, removing any resistant from the sobbing nude child-humping mothers, and the merciless brutality of the whips brought the required cooperation. The invading artificial penises one by one found their way the full distance home in the immature colons.

“When all dildos were seated to their full depth, the women were instructed to unstrap them, leaving them buried between the slender buttocks of their little girls, with the straps hanging loose like disorganized tails. Now the youngsters got a well-deserved chance to rest while their mothers were given a new and equally distressing task.

“A pair of stagehands strapped the women to posts, with their arms overhead and a 4-foot rod strapped to their ankles to hold them wide apart. The women received what was essentially a severe belly-whipping, with care taken to include their breasts and vaginas in the hot flailing action.

“After 15 minutes of merciless whipping, all three of the ladies had screamed their throats raw. They were now provided with some protection, but not the kind they would have wished for. Their daughters were now bound to them, their backs to their mothers’ brutally whipped tummies so that their own tender bellies and cuntlets were fully exposed.

“With dual screaming targets, it was time to involve the audience. When I had enquired about how the evening would unfold, I had arranged that Jeannie would be among the first to participate. She climbed onto the stage along with two other participants, and each was given a whip.

“She undid the buttons on the front of her blouse to allow freedom of her ample firm breasts, and the three eager audience members began lashing at the exposed tummies of the little girls. The flesh of the small daughters was more tender than the meat on their mothers, and angry welts were quickly raised.

“Jeannie found that a vertical blow to the child’s cuntlet also caught the horror-opened and swollen cunt of the young mother. She found that by cross striking the already angry raised welts, she could easily break skin and meat with sufficiently strong blows, which she capably delivered.

“The bound duo’s instantaneous screams told her she had hit pay dirt. The mother and daughter screams became more shrill, more piercing than any of those of the other two pair being whipped. I was pleased to see my gorgeous psychologist guest was reluctant to give up the whip when the next person’s turn arrived.

“Grudgingly accepting the disruption to her fun, Jeannie was happy she had been given the chance to realize a life-long fantasy, as she described it to me when she returned to our table. I now had an excellent measure of her interests, standards and moral values.

The gorgeous young psychiatrist had no qualms about actively participating in the torture of pretty little girls and their mothers. In her time with me I would gain a much stronger sense of her ability to deliver when working with the kind of shows I was about to produce.

“The next necessary step in her development required no action on my part, but would be automatic. She told me that night, with her knowing grin, that her only regret was that she was not able go the distance on that stage, and take the life of one of the charming 7-year-old girls.

The semi-private New York club was known to do occasional snuff shows, but only when the audience paid a hefty premium to attend. This particular event had not been a snuff evening. I shared her regret, and promised the opportunity would present itself before long.”

Helen had given up on any pretense of decorum, and her hand was under her belt. Her fingers were busy bringing herself to orgasm, her lust exceeding any pretense of any self-control. Jackson was pleased to see the woman he had selected to head the domestic house-party kiddie fights would be certain to increase the violence and cruelty of the bouts.



CHAPTER 18 – Playing Hardball


“As this new idea has grown,” Jackson said, “I’ve put my mind to what name we might give it. It needs to be something that infers what we’re about, without making it obvious to those who have no reason to know, and I think it should roll off the tongue comfortably.

“I think Lamby Pie Productions should do the trick.”

“That’s cute,” Helen said, “but let’s shorten it by miss-spelling both words. I think Lami Pi Productions would be just a bit ambiguous and look good. People in the know will have no doubt about what it’s about.”

“I love it,” Martha contributed. “That name could cover both the domestic home parties and the bolder activities at the more unreserved retreat.”

“At the retreat we create,” Jackson added, giving his attention to Helen, “extra-special events will be the standard, which will by its very nature mean a particularly high turnover of our young talent. We will require a disposal system that takes care of the carcasses of the kids who don’t survive our sports. It might be fairly high volume, as it will have to work at the same rate as new children arrive.

“With the production of little girl carcasses with the inclusion of their death as part of the sport, Lami Pi Demolition could be a more descriptive new name,” Jackson suggested with a grin.

“That’s a great name, but probably a bit too out front,” Martha said. “I think Lami Pi Productions is going to be our best bet.”
“When a kiddie kill happens, we’ll want to make certain both blood and gore are a significant part of it, to maximize the impact for our guests. They’ll love seeing apparently innocent little girls destroying their peers. That will be the major charm of the retreat, and also what attracts wealthy customers to enjoy a weekend with us.

“The idea of nude little girls doing terminal damage to each other is not a new concept. I’ve heard D-Ring Inc. has kiddies killed for sport in their eastern European and Far East casinos. I’m sure you’ve seen the ‘Honduras Toddler Hardball’ video, and know of what I’m speaking.”

“Everyone who matters has seen Honduras Toddler Hardball,” she countered with a knowing smile, “and I’ve seen half a dozen fight videos those same two young girls participated in before that one, which was for obvious reasons their last. That Hardball episode is widely considered to be a classic kiddie snuff video. The producer is a brilliant woman.”

Jackson and Martha were surprised to hear that remarkable video was a female production.

“That video is not Honduran, you know,” Helen continued, “but American, made in Florida, in the jungle near Layton, down on the keys. The producer wanted it to look like a foreign production. It was well conceived, and certainly looked tropical.

“I don’t know how she got those two little girls, because neither of their mothers was present, but they were perfect for the part, with fight experience, although there was only struggle, not fighting involved in this one. I mentioned I’ve seen work they were in.

“They were from Miami, and were probably Cubans. The way the Cubans raise their kids, they turn out to be terrific scrappers, and those two little beauties were fearless. They just weren’t prepared to survive that kind of tug-of-war. It was beautifully conceived and executed.”

“It was very professionally done,” Jackson c ommented.

“I was one of 4 there in the role of consultants,” Helen said, “but all of us who are white were behind the cameras. The 4 of us were brought in as advisors, so she had a pretty good budget. We hired an audience of Mexican and Cuban American extras, not Hondurans.

“These extras were recruited from Miami kiddie fight fans who had put their own daughters into the ring, to ensure both their interest and silence. She had a wonderful vision, and wanted it to go perfectly. We were all committed to the outcome, and as you saw, we made sure it was outstanding.

“There are several other kiddie-snuff videos out there on the market that are equally compelling. I got to work on a few of them. The best are those that are most shocking. Have you seen the urban alley video Romanian Kiddie Ripper? That one really is Eastern European.

“The male actor, a real psychopath, did a cute 10-year-old kid in that one, using a surgical knife to ensure a clean slice of the kid’s belly. She was a feisty little bitch, and one of the prettiest European kids I’ve ever seen. Kids from that part of the world also make great fighters, but at 10 she was a bit old for the kiddie fight sport.

“She really put up a hell of a fight, but he got the better of her in a hold from behind. He got her naked and ripped her from cunt to breastbone. She screamed like a banshee. Her guts covered the cobblestones of that alley. I think it was made in Budapest or Prague. Or it might have been done in Bucharest. The alleys in those old cities look the same to me.

“Or perhaps you’ve viewed Live Crock Bait? I was hired to find the three little girls who’s guts were spilled by the crocks. As you might imagine, the visuals for those videos are extremely graphic. The outcomes are also quite predictable. That gory crock one was done with a male producer, up on the St. Johns River in north Florida. We didn’t have to look far for the ravenous crocks!”

Jackson’s penis stiffened an extra notch, visibly poking his pants outward. Those videos would be located in the Terminus folder if Martha had seen them, and they were not there, so he knew both he and his wife were both in the dark on those two. Helen was proving to be more developed than he had guessed. Having experience with the production of kiddie snuff videos made her a more valuable asset.

“I have not,” he said, “but look forward to you showing them to us. I’m glad to hear you are acquainted with that kind of extreme production, as I will want you to arrange a few home party pre-planned “accidents” to occur, with the attendees all properly vetted and expecting the over-the-top action. They won’t pay extra without expecting extra value. Also, we don’t want to alienate any existing fans who set limits.

“You will have to select special performers for those events, and if you can’t find a pair of mothers who wish to make that kind of sacrifice, I will be in a position to provide suitable disposable combatants and surrogate mothers for you. You will have to plan very carefully, as you know that their blood will be on your hands, not ours.”

“I can handle such situations,” Helen said, “and of course will require some costs to cover arrangements and disposal, as well as suitable compensation. That’s a fair step past pampering swollen black eyes, bleeding noses and scratched and bruised little pussies.”

“I take it you accept. You will be answering directly to Martha, who will also be working with our retreat manager and me. I’ll also want you to get onboard the people that make the videos for distribution. Some of them will require more training, but the basic product isn’t too bad.

“Your official title will be CEO of, what shall we call it, Sparkling Events?”

“Let’s be a bit more descriptive, without giving away what we are doing. How does Elementary Disputes, or how does Rumpus Rows sound? They won’t mean much to most people, but mothers of young children will know exactly what they’re about, particularly if they participate in the scene.”

“Elementary Disputes works for me. It covers the age range, up to 11 but usually much younger, and disputes speaks for itself. Rumpus sounds like too much fun. Do you agree with that, Martha?”

“I like it. Row works for me too, but the image of Rumpus somehow suggests too much padding. Ring Rows is a bit goofy, so let’s settle on Elementary Disputes.”

“Or Elementary Rows,” Helen replied, demonstrating her flexibility. It would be wise to let Martha have her say. “The word Elementary covers the age group of most of the kids, and Rows is self-explanatory.”

“Perfect,” said Jackson. “And to compensate you for your time and troubles, how about a starting salary of $750 Thousand.” His tone made it a statement, not a question. “Plus a travel and accommodation allowance, and costs. That should work. After a couple of successful growth years, we can look at negotiating and increase for you, and if you do well, also expanding your responsibilities.”

“I’m fine with that,” Helen said. That put her on even ground with Harry, who drew that much from his firm each year. The remainder went into an offshore account, as payment to a dummy firm he owned that entirely sheltered it from any form of American taxes.

“You will want to begin with a friendly take-over of all of the KidFight Clubs across America. That should take a few months, and require a staff. I’ll supply you with that. You draw up the plan for acquiring all rights, and a timetable. My guess is it should take about 6 months.

“That sounds a bit tight, but I’m sure it can be done. There could be some people who don’t want to let go, and they could create issues for us There are a couple I know who could put up quite a fight.”

“My thought exactly.” Jackson agreed with her. “Getting it done may require the removal, I’m speaking of arranging the quiet disappearance of some of the key party organizers who may resist giving up power. My staff can manage that for you. You set it up, we’ll take care of the rest.

“The timing should be staggered by weeks to disguise any possible connection to the removals. Because these private kiddie fight parties are not visible to the public, it would be unlikely anyone would know these people would have any connection.

“You identify the people who will be a problem, and my staff will ensure the circumstances are quite different for each, pointing them to a variety of criminal activities. That will likely limit ongoing investigations. The last thing we need is the wrong people asking the wrong questions.”

Martha was forming a new respect for the depth and breadth of her husband’s knowledge and abilities. She was now convinced this was going to work. There need be no limits on what they could do. This was getting very exciting. Helen shared her new enthusiasm.

“Do you fully understand your position in our newly formed organization?” Jackson asked.

“I’m sure I do,” Helen answered. She had been around the block more than once, and she was confident she could handle this assignment.

“I’ll need you to demonstrate your acceptance of the position.” He turned to his wife. “Martha, I want you to raise your skirt and remove your panties.” Martha readily complied. “Helen, I need you on your hands and knees. I understand you favor women, and I believe Martha requires servicing.”

Helen’s face blanched. She had never been forced to do anything in her life, and certainly nothing so degrading. She preferred her sexual activity to be as private as possible. She had been a pampered child, and she had married a man who pampered her. She was definitely not ready for such a sudden and revolting change in treatment.

Her view of Jackson was that he was an intellectual, and she had never considered he might revert to this form of physical persuasion. When dealing with women who were getting cold feet, she would as a last resort use a mild form of coercion, but preferred to make the bitches want more cruelty to their lovely little daughters.

Expecting her hesitation, Jackson said, “Are you telling me you don’t want your new job, along with your subservient role to Martha? I’m afraid the only way to remove yourself from this situation, now that you are party to our plans, is for me to have my people arrange for and promptly execute your permanent disappearance. You always have the choice.”

Helen was reluctant but not stupid. She knew Jackson would not hesitate in eliminating her permanently if she refused his demand. She set her glass, now empty, on the side table, got to her knees and put her mouth to Martha’s offered vagina. Thank God the bitch showers regularly, and keeps her cunt shaved clean, she thought. Eating hair pie is sickening!

“And I’ll need you to spread your legs and lift your pretty ass,” Jackson said. She reluctantly complied, assuming he wanted to admire her beautiful vagina and cute puckered rectum seated deep in the hollow of her groin. When he lifted her skirt he was pleased to see she wore no panties. Dykes like this one seldom did, as they found them inconvenient when grasping an impromptu chance for a tryst with another woman.

“Remember, you both report to me. I’m going to demonstrate my dominance.” He opened his fly, spit on her anus, and pressed the flared head of his penis against the warmth of her tightly closed rectum. He could feel her anal sphincter being squeezing closed, as if she thought she had the power to prevent what was coming.

Helen had never experienced anal sex in her life, although it was her husband Harry’s favorite form of intercourse. He had never suggested it, as he preferred plowing the tight rectums of little boys. She relented, and could not contain a squeal as his stiff shaft pressed painfully into her.

For nearly 10 minutes Jackson pumped his penis slowly in to its full depth, and then pulled it back so that the flared head encountered the inside of the ring of her rectum. He continued with the slow piston movement for the whole time, until at last he pulled his cock free of her rear grip.

“Are you satisfied, Martha?” he asked.

“That will do for now,” his wife answered. Helen gratefully removed her face from Martha’s crotch. She was wrong in thinking the humiliating ordeal was over.

“I know you have little interest in having your vagina plumbed with a penis, but you do have one other convenient fuck hole. Turn your beautiful face to me.”

Helen was filled with disgust, loathing and shame. She had not prepared her colon by flushing it before she had accepted Martha’s unexpected invitation. Jackson wanted her to take his crap-covered penis into her mouth, smeared with her own offal. Her mysterious disappearance, caused by her death at the hands of his henchmen, was not a viable option.

“You’re my bitch, Helen. Get your mouth open, now!”

Closing her eyes, she opened her mouth and took in his penis, holding her breath and pressing her tongue down as flat as she could, trying desperately not to let the crud-covered penis touch the inside of her gaping oral cavity. Jackson grasped the back of her head with both hands, and forced it onto him with enough force to drive the large head of his firm erection down into her throat.

Now her shit on his shaft was the least of her worries. His penis blocked her access to air. Unless she quickly pleased him, she would quickly die from lack of air. She thought of biting his penis, but fortunately realized she did not have the strength to sever it, and if she did it would still block her throat. She was in a desperate situation.

Jackson thrust rapidly, and not wanting his new bitch to suffocate, promptly began to ejaculate down Helen’s throat. She had no recourse but to swallow his spunk, unless she wanted it in her lungs. Her new boss had now taken full command, and gave her no doubt she was totally mastered. Now she was indeed his bitch.

“You’ll want a refill on that scotch,” he said as he pulled out of her throat. She gagged, coughed, made a disgusted look from the taste of her own muck in her mouth, and then got up and walked to a washroom. Jackson and Martha watched her go, reading her body language.

There was the usual swagger to her walk that said she was back in control of her body. She was still wearing her spike heels, and her buttocks had the familiar sway with each step. Her shapely, still tight ass moved in the manner of a woman who is used to being watched, highly erotic, but with some of the spring gone from her step.

This was the apparently confident but also slightly hesitant walk of a confirmed subdued bitch. Jackson had her measure, and had been on target in his taking control of the capable cunt. She was now his bitch, as much as was his wife, and they now both had control of the woman who had just become their willing associate.

Martha nodded her approval, and Jackson smiled at her. They were both quite satisfied. Helen was a find, and they knew she would make them a lot of money. They were confident that the home party division of their new and exciting enterprise Lami Pi Productions was going to be in good hands.

 No.6762

CHAPTER 19 – A Surprise Beginning


Lia liked her name, because it was musical, very short, and yet had two syllables. Her mother told her so. Lee-yah. That was special to her. It was the perfect name for a 5-year-old. She had been given it as a tribute to her mother, Lianne, who had been her only parent as she began her short life.

Her mother lived with Uncle Meanguy, a miserable man whose real name she didn’t know because he never told her anything. What she knew of him was that her mother hated him, and that he was not nice. He always tried to get her alone and get his rough hands onto her, but she was smart enough to make it very difficult for him, and always told her mother about his unwelcome advances.

Her mother had no idea the name she had given her daughter would make her seem to older boys to be a very sexual being, which the sensual child felt she was, but she became a target of both teasing and physical groping. At kindergarten the boys would sit beside her, slip a hand through the waist of her skirt and stick a finger into the moist vestibule of her as-of-yet untapped little cuntlet.

Their teacher was an open-minded woman who recognized sexuality in children was quite natural, and she enjoyed watching the boys and girls exploring their physicality. In preparation for their morning nap, she would have the children slip their shorts down to expose their genitals to each other, for an intimate show and tell.

This early sex education was important to her teacher. It must have been, because she always photographed them as they did their thing in front of the others. They had no idea what she did with the photos, but they never got to see them. They supposed she was building a file or something.

However, when two boys at once sat on either side of Lia and got their inquisitive fingers into her, pulled them out and licked them, then stuck them back in, the teacher intervened, and felt it necessary to inform all of their mothers. The last thing she needed in her daycare was the scandal of .

Lia’s mom was worried for the safety of her daughter, and decided that instead of exposing her to more aggressive boys at school, she would home school her daughter. Perhaps Lia was too beautiful for her own good. She wore designer clothes because her mother could afford them, and had a hairdresser visit their home every week to make sure she always looked her best.

Lianne had lost her parents in a house fire when she was 14, and the family lawyer had become her foster parent, so that he would have control of her inheritance until she reached the age of majority. He promptly fathered Lia, who was born when her mother was 15, and just as quickly the lawyer put his young ward on the pill to avoid a recurrence.

The last thing the confirmed bachelor needed was to have a girl and 2 infants in his household. He was a practicing Roman Catholic, and could not countenance his adopted daughter having an abortion. Using the pill for the girl was tolerable only because Lianne was not Catholic.

He had no interest in bringing her to the attention to the Church. When at weekly confession he confessed to having sex with a girl, he did not mention either her name or her age, even when he confessed he had squired a daughter. The priests who took his confessions had no interest in details, other than in the fact he had enjoyed his coitus with the girl.

His only interest in Lianne was in her soft, warm, welcoming vagina, which he measured regularly, using his penis as a yardstick. He kept strict control of her life, registering her in a private girls school, so that she had no opportunity to engage in any outside social life, excluding her from any other access to sexual activity.

He would have given his left nut for access to the little infant Lia, but her mother ensured the daughter remained sound. The daycare that took care of the little one while Lianne was in school had a strict policy that grandparents had no access to the children in their care. Only Lia’s mother could pick her up when she was ready to return home.

On her 18th birthday Lianne received her inheritance. It consisted of seven million dollars in stocks and bonds in a well-managed portfolio, more than 12 million in upscale real estate holdings, . At its current value, it ensured her a monthly income of at least 14 thousand dollars a month for the rest of her life. She would never have to work.

Lianne promptly bought a penthouse condominium in the best apartment condo in Augusta, with an undisturbed view of the riverfront. The realtor was surprised that a girl her age would be able to consider such a top end unit, but when she bypassed a mortgage and paid in full, there was no argument.

Two weeks later Lia’s father the lawyer was found in his Jaguar slumped over the steering wheel, with a neat bullet hole in the side of his skull, an inch above the ear. The gun sat on the seat beside him, but the bullet had come through the side window, making it clear to the police the killing was an assassination, not a suicide.

Every indication said a professional had carried out the killing of the lawyer. He had several clients who would like to see him dead, any one of which could have arranged for his murder, but there was no evidence pointing to any suspects. Within a month his death had become a cold case, with many far more serious issues to take the attention of the police.

Half of the estate went to the Government, the other half to his only surviving relative, Lianne. She had taken out a large amount of cash the day before the killing, but being a newly rich young woman, was spending money like it was going out of style. There was nothing to point to her, and she had a perfect alibi.

She was at the church, sitting in the confessional, telling the priest information he could never disclose, that she had arranged for the murder of a member of his flock. She did not ask him to forgive her, nor for absolution. Lianne told him she did not want forgiveness, and did so just to let him know she was aware that was an open option for her.

The 18-year-old single mother knew it would be necessary she join the church to qualify for absolution of her sins, and she had no interest in doing so. She had taken her parent’s degenerate lawyer’s nightly sexual abuse and protected her baby daughter from him for long enough. She had taken care of the problem.

Lianne had endured enough experience with a devout but now deceased member of the Holy Roman Church to last her a lifetime. She had no remorse about arranging for his death. Some things that had happened in her short life would inform how she went forward, but this was certainly not one of those. Her conscience was clear.

Now that Lianne was financially independent, all of her time was free time. It was a strange situation to not have to do anything, but she was highly adaptive, and had always been a responsible and organized girl. She took to her new freedom like a duck to water.

Lianne spent much of her newly found free time pursuing research, which she found she enjoyed, as whatever she found would be for her personal benefit. She was primarily looking for a place she would like to use as a getaway. Because she lived in Augusta, she began her search in the southeastern United States, Mexico, the Caribbean Islands and Central America. She was able to do it all online from the comfort of her den.

Travel to tropical islands was not an issue for her, from a financial perspective, but she didn’t want to spend a lot of time in travel. She hated flying, and that was the only way to get to most of the attractive places. She wanted privacy, and to be around people she could get along with, who had no interest in her money. She was well aware the sugar daddy syndrome worked backwards, and wanted none of it.

As is often the case, it was by accident she stumbled across the site while browsing. A key-word search brought her to the special page, embedded in an up-scale real estate website. It was the last place she would expect to find such a listing. Some of the best finds show up in places you would least expect to find them.

This listing was for a luxury suite vacation residence at a new private retreat not far from coast, located on Cole Island in Jasper County on the Harbor River, 20 miles from the ocean, between Savannah and Charleston. It was quite central and yet very secluded. Had she been searching on the ground, she would have driven for years and never found it.

The retreat that interested her was just a 2-hour drive from her home, and she promptly made an appointment for a visit. She and Lia drove over to see the property the next day. A developer had bought the island when his land titles search had revealed all of the land on the island was in the hands of only 4 owners.

There was a small farm on the west side of the island, and a luxurious private residence owned by an elderly couple on the northwest corner. He visited a local search and quietly started a rumor that the river was polluted by years of mining activity upstream. There were no mines upstream, which was not a factor when providing negative information.

Other than the cleared farmland south of the farmhouse, the land was mostly wooded. Two weeks after starting the rumor he offered thirty per cent of the real value of the land, and all of his offers were accepted. It was amazing the power of the spoken word, which the developer well understood.

The purchaser took over the luxurious private residence to live in, bulldozed the farmhouse, then built an opulent vacation resort, designed exclusively for people who bought units. He had no time for vacation renters. This was for people to use regularly, and he made that clear with their first visit.

He also let purchasers know that the resort would have no dress restrictions, and that for most of the year clothes would be unnecessary. He had identified an unsatisfied need, and by filling it, found his units sold well at a premium price. What he had built was an exclusive private nudist colony.

The island was roughly round in shape, and about ¾ of a mile across. It was ideal for people who preferred privacy, and all for the same reason. It was a new and very exclusive nudist colony. More than half of the units had sold, and Lianne was pleased to see that most of the buyers were wealthy young families, many of them with small children.

It was presented as a holiday and weekend retreat, and life there was very casual. Most of the owners were from Raleigh, Savannah, Charleston, Atlanta, Jacksonville, Charlotte and Columbus, with a few from Augusta. The owners prepared their own breakfast and lunch, but early every evening the developer hosted a lavish meal, usually a barbecue.

With no town or village in the area, the condo had a well-stocked grocery store with some clothing and staple goods available as well. There was a comfortable lounge with full-length windows overlooking the staffed playground where children frolicked nude. It would be the ideal place to relax and keep her eye on Lia.

Teen girls, daughters of residents, staffed the securely fenced playground. The girls, who also worked nude, were well paid to ensure disputes among the children brought no harm to any of them. They kept the kids supplied with lemonade and fruit punch, and took them to the bathroom whenever one of them had to go potty.

Lianne was thrilled with the nudist aspect of the retreat. She had never had the freedom to go naked, and growing up with that lawyer asshole, she had little interest in doing so. Now she felt she would have the freedom to do whatever she wished, however she wished, and she closed the deal on a prime unit during that trip.

From that day forward she spent a week every month at her new retreat. Her favorite pastime was watching Lia playing and scampering naked in the play area with the other children, most of them a year or two older than her. The two teenage supervisors lounged by the wading pool, with little to do when there were no scraps between the children.

People did not gawk at her, as she thought they would, and she felt quite comfortable to walk around her unit and the entire complex wearing only her flip-flops and a few slender gold chains. In addition to her necklaces, she liked to wear half a dozen loose gold chains around her waist.

One morning after breakfast while sitting in the bright 2nd floor bar, watching Lia playing with other naked kids below her in the enclosed playground, she noticed the 13 to 15-year-old girls lounging below her, also keeping an eye on the children. They were lounging with one knee raised so that their entire groin area was on full display, and she noticed their pubic hair had been cleanly removed.

Their vagina lips were full and spread, as if they had been masturbating, and she wondered if they had. While they distracted her, she noticed her hand had found its way to her own groin, and her fingers were sliding smoothly in the moist slot of her vagina.

Lianne felt a sudden wave of carnal pleasure with the contact of her fingers with her tender sex-flesh. She ran her middle and index fingers along the firm edges of her lower lips, and then she slid them upward to gently massage her sex-swollen clitoris.

Her mind spun. Had she turned gay? She had no idea she could be so readily turned on by observing nude teenage girls. She had never noticed others at the resort masturbating, and assumed it was not cool to bring herself off in public, or even to tease her cleanly shaved vagina to the level she would want to experience an orgasm.

Embarrassed by her involuntary behavior, she got up and walked toward the lounge’s exit. Just before the archway there was another to the side, and she saw for the first time another part of the lounge. Seated on burgundy leather-covered benches were three young men, drinking beer and openly masturbating as they watched the naked children cavorting in the playground below.

She stood watching in amazement as the men, the only owners present in the lounge, smoothly stroked their rigid penises. Other than that disgusting lawyer who had controlled her teen years, she had never witnessed a man jacking off. She knew It was a common practice, but expected it was always done only in private.

Two of them acknowledged her presence and waved to her while continuing to give themselves a firm fist fuck. Her eyes were wide as one by one they reached orgasm and ejaculated onto the hardwood floor. The nude young bartender brought over a spray bottle and a mop. It appeared that what had just happened was something she expected.

“First cum of the day, guys?” the attractive 15-year-old nude in spike heels asked them as she sprayed cleaner on their spilled spunk and then mopped it up. She was careful to turn as she bent forward, to provide them a clear view of her beautiful flared vagina and slightly open rectum.

Lianne was surprised to see a beautiful girl so young behaving so casually with wealthy young professionals while acting like a truly proficient servant. This place was so amazing, and Lianne felt privileged to have found it and to not only own one of the best units, but to be accepted into the social scene here while she was still a teen.

The developer had been so nice in helping her to get settled, and had given special attention to Lia to make sure she felt welcome here as well. The people here were very friendly, and invited her to their homes to enjoy some outstanding threesomes.

She had all the free sex she could wish for, and best of all, nobody tried to hit on Lia, who watched fascinated while her young mother engaged in amazing group sex. Her 5-year-old daughter was receiving an education not usually included in the Georgia home schooling curriculum. Lianne felt almost as if she had come home.

 No.6781

CHAPTER 20 – Introduction to a New Sport


Lianne had made some friends at the nightly barbecues, and on her second week there, she was invited along with several other young owners to the suite of a couple she liked. Rick and Jan’s daughters were 5 and 7, and Lia got along well with both of them, as well as most of the other youngsters.

The kids were left wearing only their panties in the master bedroom to play ‘doctor spanking’, their favorite game, while the adults sat in comfortable sofas and recliners in the large family room. It was equipped with several inconspicuous cameras, which Rick explained were to keep an eye on the children’s shenanigans.

Lianne thought it was cute the way the naked little ones got the one to be spanked on the floor with knees spread and buttocks raised, in a pose that presented not only the buttocks but also the genitalia. They took turns slapping the buttocks and tiny pussies of the girls with shrieks of delight.

The little boys had their penises spanked as well, but their testicles were too small and under developed to give them the excruciating pain a male adult would experience with a similar blow. The children loved their sexual sport, and gave their parents pleasure watching them learning the excitement of violent play.

Rick and Jan had invited the group to view a video they had been sent by friends in Atlanta. They told those they invited that they had discovered an interesting new pastime, and as strange as it sounded, these were parties not dissimilar to the play of their children in the next room.

At the parties, designed for and their parents and friends, little girls were encouraged to fight each other for the amusement of those in attendance. Astonishingly, the children were to fight each other bare naked, with the objective, as in any fight, of hurting each other so that they screamed.

That brought a buzz of surprised response. It sounded both peculiar and somehow cool. The guests were anxious to see the video he described. It sounded like it would be sexually stimulating to watch. Beers were distributed, and when everyone was settled, the lights were dimmed and the video started. On the large screen TV they saw a basement party room in a private home.

A dozen young women sat in a circle of chairs around the center of the room, in which stood two 6-year-old girls wearing only small boxing gloves. Lianne was surprised to see this was about very little kids fighting, and although she had heard it announced, she was shocked that the little girls were stark naked. This was really over the top.

On the screen one of the women moved in front of the camera. She was, Lianne guessed, certainly not yet 30. The small group of female friends she had invited to see the demonstration had the same age demographic. They were all watching her attentively. She lifted a microphone, and addressed the camera.

“Hi, everybody,” she said nervously. “I’m Emily. A couple of weeks ago my friend Annie and I were invited to the most amazing party, right here in Atlanta, for women only, and the whole thing was all about little daughters fighting. Like, the little girls were bare naked, and I’ve got to tell you, they fought each other wildly, like a pair of angry shrews. The whole thing was absolutely incredible!

“They had put up a ring in the middle of the room that was really an electric fence to keep the girls in the middle. Their fists were taped, but they didn’t wear boxing gloves or anything. It was really filthy, like the mothers made their little girls swear at each other and call each other dirty names and everything.

“The mothers really wanted their kids to fight each other, and slapped their faces really hard at the beginning, to get them both crying and in the mood for really hard hitting.” Lianne had trouble getting her head around mothers displaying their kids nude, and hitting them just to make them get angry enough to fight. It was totally edgy!

“You had to be there to realize how hot it was,” Emily said to the camera, “and of course you weren’t, so we’ve decided to make this little video to give select friends an idea of what it was like. We loved it. If you think what I’ve told you is disgusting, then please turn the video off now. We don’t want to shock anyone, but we were so surprised that this amazing sport is sooooo cool!

“Those little kids we saw fighting really did hurt each other, and they had collars with a short chain joining them, so neither of the little girls could back away from the fight. It went just like the ladies wanted, and they all yelled at them to hit the other as hard as they could, but with this video we want to show you what it was like without the damage to them we saw, like scratches, black swollen eyes and bloody noses you get when the fight is really serious.

“I mean that was really hot, but it was also pretty shocking for a first time. We’re definitely both going to the next party, now that we know what it’s all about, and won’t be surprised. Anyway, we both decided to make this video because we want to introduce this kind of sport to you in a safe way, and also our friends we’ve invited here to watch.

“We found these cute little boxing gloves for them, so they won’t really hurt each other, and there’s no electric ring that can give them a shock. You probably want to take it one step at a time, right? I mean if you’re as interested as we are. I can’t wait to go to the next kidfight party!” Her hand went to her groin, pressing her dress in as she rubbed herself, and then self-consciously withdrew it.

“I’ve got to tell you it was ‘way more exciting being there than I thought it would be. That’s why I want you all to see this unrehearsed demonstration with our own kids. From what I saw, when you give them permission, little girls really do like to fight. I mean, pre-school and early grade schoolgirls are quite happy to beat up on each other, aren’t they. Everybody’s seen that, right?

“These two girls you’re going to see today don’t know each other, and we were told at the real fight party that’s usually the case in the real organized kiddie fight parties. It turns out they mostly like to fight either their very best friends or else fight with complete strangers. In both cases they get really angry when they get hit, and hit back harder.

“I’m not sure what that’s about, like I’m no child psychologist, but we’ve decided to use our girls because they don’t know each other. Annie and I talked this over quite a bit, and decided to make this video for you. As you see, we invited some friends who have never seen this kind of thing, but promised they are all really open minded.

“The blonde is my daughter Junie, and the other one is Annie’s girl Tricia. Annie and I met in the maternity ward when we had our babies, and they were born the same day. They’re both going to turn 6 in a couple of months. Annie and I are friends, and we both attended that little girl fight party, but our daughters have never met each other.

Both of them, like most little girls, like to get it on with another girl now and again, but this is going to be their first organized fight, I mean one authorized by their Moms, and one we’ve promised each other we’re not going to try to stop, because we want you to see what it’s really like.

We’re all really excited to see how it goes, because they both said they’d be really happy to be in a fight, and we’d like you to see it. Anyway, everything’s all ready, and of course the camera is on, recording everything, so let’s see if Junie and Tricia will really get it on!”

The two naked little girls standing in the middle of the ring of enthusiastic women were trembling, and it was not because they were stark naked, wearing only a pair of tight-fitting little boxing gloves. Lianne had never heard of such a thing as a kiddie fight, particularly one organized and staged by their own mothers.

She found the idea of little girls fighting, naked in front of an adult audience, outrageous, and wondered why their hosts would invite them to see this obscenity. She thought it was probably totally illegal. On the other hand she felt a stirring in her gut, an anxiety she realized was growing excitement with what was about to happen.

These mini leather boxing gloves the nude little girls wore were small, but had a bit of padding, probably enough to prevent any real damage. They were both so young, just tots. Lianne was anxious to see if the naked little kids would purposefully pound on each other.

Emily, the woman who had spoken, and another woman whom Lianne assumed was Annie, stepped up to the girls, grabbed their hair and slapped their faces hard, several times. The explanation Emily made describing its purpose made the rough treatment of the little girls a bit less shocking.

The pretty little nudes squealed when they saw their mothers’ raised hands, screamed when they were struck and then began to cry while continuing their pulsing shrill screams. The hard slaps had hurt them. The naked kids just stood there, braced with their feet apart and on their tiptoes, continuing to cry and not sure what was expected of them by all of these strangers watching them.

At that point little blonde Junie, overly stressed by the situation her mother had put her in, let go a gleaming stream of pee, right onto the floor. The people watching at the party, in the background on the video, looked shocked at this release, and also appeared eager to see what happened next.

What happened next was better than anything Lianne could wish for. It was going to be a real fight! Junie lifted her gloves, remembering she was supposed to protect herself. Then Tricia suddenly delivered a roundhouse blow that went over the raised arms and caught the startled Junie on the side of her face with a loud smack.

The blow was hard enough that the kid was knocked off her feet, banging her head on the floor as she landed. This enraged Junie, who sprang to her feet and charged at Tricia, with her fists flying wildly. Her gloves mostly struck Tricia’s arms, doing no damage, but she kept it up, hoping to get in a lucky hurtful shot.

She finally did, catching the surprised girl with a punch to the upper stomach, and when Trish pitched forward another well-aimed punch caught her square on the nose. Junie was getting the range and catching on. She had what it took to win this fight, and that encouraged her.

In seconds blood appeared, and instead of being concerned, the women attending the kiddie fight became more excited, and the volume of their shouting doubled. Both mothers were surprised that blood had been drawn in their demonstration video fight, and instead of stopping the action to attend to Trish’s bleeding nose, they shouted encouragement for the injured girl to retaliate.

“Don’t let her get away with that,” Annie shouted at her dazed daughter, “clobber the little brat!”

“Hit her again!” Emily shouted at her elated and still sobbing little girl. “She’s a dirty little bitch! Get her good while the stupid little cunt’s stunned!”

“Kick the crying little bitch’s pissy little cunnie!” Annie retorted. She ignored the fact that Tricia was also sobbing, her tears streaking her face.

“You get her in the cunt first,” Emily screamed at her daughter, “smack your foot right up into her cunt!”

Tricia did as her mother told her, and liked the feeling of the top of her foot striking the tender meat of this strange girl’s cunt. This was a new idea for them, and both girls promptly got their bare feet going, kicking the naked pussy of the other little girl as hard as they could, causing both immature little cuntlets to redden, swell and stand open for the delighted audience like the beaks of hungry chicks.

The battling little nudes squealed with delight when they kicked the other’s cunt, and shrieked in distress when a kick landed on their own. The audience loved it, as did Rick’s and Jan’s guests watching the video. Lianne could see this sport was a real hit, but she was somewhat distressed to witness the outrageous fight between naked little children, even knowing it was just a demonstration.

She had agreed to join these others to watch this obscene video, and although it was something she would never have imagined possible, she realized she was very turned on by the fierce action between the two naked combative toddlers. This was really something special. Nobody here was going to complain to the authorities.

Soon the gloved little fists were active again, and the naked little girls surrounded by shouting women were raining blows on each other with a vengeance. The tight leather gloves prevented the girls from pulling hair or scratching, as they would certainly have done if they could. As she imagined it, Lianne realized how hot that would be.

The game little girls put on a great show of kicking, punching and screaming at each other. Their vocabulary of obscenities was limited, but they did their best with stinking cunt, slut, fucking asshole and dirty bugger. These were words they would have picked up from their parents and from other children who had heard them used by adults.

The funniest shout from one of the little ones was “stick your fucking head back up your momma’s cunt, like you’d never ever been born!” Lianne had no idea where a child would hear such a thing, but the image was outrageous. She could imagine a naked little girl with her head completely stuffed into her mother’s greatly stretched womb, and she felt a growing dampness in her own pussy.

The fight, which went on for more than 20 minutes, was finally over when Janie fell for the seventh time and Tricia sat on her, pressing her swollen little cuntlet into her side. This time Janie refused to get up. Tricia pounded her tightly closed little fists into Janie’s head and sides. The screams were ear-piercing. Tricia didn’t let up until her mother stepped in.

Emily grabbed the microphone and got in front of the camera again. “So now you get some idea about how exciting this sport can be! No two fights are the same. Weren’t our daughters great?” She was breathing harder than normal, her eyes were not fully open, and Lianne suddenly realized the young mother who hosted the kiddie fight video party was in the middle of experiencing a massive orgasm.

“Thanks for watching,” Emily continued. “If you want to be invited to a hot KidFight Club party, just contact me. My friends who are showing you this video know how to reach me. I’m only going to send the video to people I’m sure would like to watch seriously enraged little girls, aged from 5 to 8, giving each other hell in front of an audience! Just let me know and I’ll make sure you get an invitation to attend one. I know you’ll really love it.

“Something else you might want to know. Sometimes, to make the fights more interesting, there’s a real mismatch, and it’s on purpose. Really. Like in the second fight we saw at that party an experienced 7-year-old beat the shit out of a 5-year-old. Literally. It was a no-diapers nude fight, and the older girl really went at it.

“The younger kid was totally out-classed, and when she had some teeth broken she actually shit on the floor! Her mother wanted her cute little bitch to take a serious beating, to teach her a lesson. I don’t mind seeing my daughter getting her bell rung either. I think it’s sexy!

“It was amazing! It sounds filthy, dropping poop on the floor, but they sprayed some deodorant on her crap right away, and we all got off on watching her bum hole spreading and then dropping a couple of stools. It turns out potty training is soon forgotten when kids are the taking a real beating.

“We saw real and undisputable evidence of that! I’m going to for sure enter Tricia in one as soon as I can, and let her do her thing! I’m so excited! I’ll feed her a big breakfast and lunch before we go, so her colon is full, just in case she gets the shit beat out of her! Wouldn’t that be exciting?

“Anyway, we hope you really liked watching our daughters fight, and if you liked it, we hope we’ll see you soon at a real KidFight Club nude girl fight party!”

The video was turned off and the lights came back up. “I could handle that,” Lianne said to Jan, who was sitting beside her, “I think it would be really exciting, but of course I’d have to get a sitter for Lia.”

“Or you could take her with you. She’s 5, isn’t she?”

“Oh God, I’d never let her get into a fight and get beaten up. She’s no fighter. That’s really gross!”

“I don’t know. You could train her to protect herself, and if she gets angry, she might just beat the crap out of her competition. After she sent us that video you just saw, we called Emily, and she gave us quite a bit of information about the workings of the KidFight Club.

“They only put together a mismatch when the mother wants it. Some mothers really do want to see their kid beaten good, and sometimes don’t know it until they see their naked kid in action at a party, in the ring. At that point they really get in touch with their inner feelings on the matter.

“Also, I think no matter how bad it looks on the day, kids heal really well, and in a few weeks there wouldn’t even be a scar from a bad cut. They are so resilient. In a couple of months they probably don’t even remember being hit and hurt, no matter how much they bled. Kids are tough.”


. . . to be continued

 No.6817

CHAPTER 21 – Helen Hits her Pace


Once she had taken control of all of the North American Kidfight Clubs, and introduced her own trusted managers to run operations, Helen Regent, in full agreement with Jackson‘s wishes, banned the use of diapers on the kids that fought, requiring all fights to be conducted with the combatants, regardless of their age, fully nude. Their mothers concurred.

She also banned any form of boxing glove, which provided unwanted protection from bruises and cuts. Cloth tape was permitted, because its surface would scrape flesh when applied with a solid punch. The restriction was that no more than two layers were permitted, so that excessive wrapping would not protect either the person struck or the young fist that delivered the damaging punch.

Ring canvas and tarps were no longer permitted to protect expensive carpeting in the hostess’s home. Febreze spray bottles were to be at ringside to absorb unwelcome odor when the little darlings evacuated both liquid and firmer matter in the heat of battle. Their piss, shit and splatters of blood, if they produced them, were fair game.

Helen believed the audience deserved to enjoy seeing kiddie poop being ground into the luxurious floor coverings, and to witness the discomfort that misadventure brought to the hostess who would have to clean it. That was a small price to pay for the privilege of hosting 30 or more women who thrilled to the violence little kids were capable of inflicting on each other when everybody present approved, including their own mothers.

She began to diversify the events. Her first innovation was to allow men to attend one event each month. Because of the larger audience that drew, private boxing training gyms were used in place of private homes. The posts and ropes were removed from the training ring for the event, and the smaller electrified rings that were now a standard part of kiddie fights replaced them.

Soon after she began the highly popular mixed audience events, she discovered one member of her new audience had decided to stage his own events. She arranged for a police raid on his second fight night, and the man committed suicide rather than face the publicity of a disgracing trial. That action stopped any kind of unwanted competition.

Her next innovation was to find a very open-minded doctor to make some simple alterations to little girls whose mothers agreed. She found the ideal man in Los Angeles. He did exactly what she wanted, and developed a simple and reversible procedure that was quick and relatively painless.

He laid a naked little girl out on his office examining table, put her to sleep with an inhaler, and made a pair of small slits on her chest into which he inserted thin flexible and strong plastic bags. He could inject jelled silicone into these, and within two hours gradually inflate them to gently stretch the girl’s skin and produce for her a very real looking pair of titties.

To see them was remarkable, because he did this on girls aged from 5 to 8, much too young to have natural breasts. It made them much more interesting in the fight ring. The day after her fight, he would simply drain the bags, a procedure which required no anesthesia.

As the girls grew he could simply add more gel, and when they reached the age of 9 and were too old for the kiddie fights, they had the option of removal of the internal bags, or replacing them with larger versions, giving them breasts until they were old enough to grow their own tits.

Realizing the potential of this new look, Helen sought out a small company that would make erotic looking spike heeled stilettos small enough to be worn by little children. She went to Argentina, where the quality of leather and craftsmanship is superlative.

She found a man who lived in a large dense favela. He was very excited at the opportunity, and she ordered two hundred pair in a range of small to very small sizes, at the incredible price of $10 per pair. Both she and the shoemaker were very happy with the deal, and seeing the images on the walls of his shack, she brought him a pretty little girl for him to play with and left him with the child, to do with as he pleased.

Three weeks later the first 20 pair arrived, of varied sizes as they had agreed, and she was able to start using them for the children to get used to before they had to wear them in the ring as they battled each other. Their mothers were delighted, and worked with their little girls to get them ready to stand, walk and fight in the remarkable high heels.

Another innovation was to introduce little boys to the fights. This was a harder sell, but by inviting their mothers to see the little girls fighting, they caught on and were ready to let their boys in the ring. The boys were tougher when they began a fight, but the girls always showed more aggression and the wish to hurt their opponent.

After a few fights Helen realized what was missing. The naked little boys were too young to have a decent set of testicles, and were incapable of producing an erection. She went to her open-minded doctor in Los Angeles for a solution, and he showed her how simple it was.

He inserted soft egg-shaped plastic balls into the scrotum, the kind that some veterinarians will use to give dogs going into the show ring more interesting looking swinging gonads. It worked beautifully. The little boy that was tested, who was just 7, was given a set of balls that stretched his sack to the size of a full grown man’s.

For the penis, he asked Helen what size she wanted. She was surprised at the question. “What size can you give him?”

“Let’s see what we get,” he replied with a grin. He used a procedure that is used with men to enhance their erections, a permanent change that involves plastic sleeves inserted along the length of the penis, which are then filled with silicone gel. With the right density and pressure, a rigid woody can be easily made that will never deflate.

A visual problem was easily addressed. The child’s penis was large, but the glans on the end were their original size. The doctor solved that with a series of tiny injections of silicone that expanded and flared the head beautifully, like that on a man about to ejaculate.

The result on the boy was to give him an erection that on a man would measure longer than a woman could take. The little boy’s penis was as long and as stout as that on a well-endowed male stripper. The new up-thrusting erection looked bizarre on the small child, and Helen couldn’t resist getting onto the table, kneeling panties down and skirt up, to let the little boy mount her.

The child proved to be very adept with his beautiful new sex weapon. He was properly excited to experience full sexual intercourse with a grown up woman. Helen was disappointed that the rubber testicles could not produce semen, as she loved the feel of hot male spunk jetting against her cervix. The boy’s ample energy made up for his lack of technique and completion capability, and she enjoyed a hearty fuck.

She quickly realized the potential of this outstanding hot new development. She could now produce an event in which a boy could fight a girl, completing the bout by mounting the little girl and deflowering her. The women loved to see blood. It would be a kiddie rape done by a kiddie. Helen couldn’t think of anything more delicious.

Helen knew she had an instant hit on her hands, and had to put her mind to how she would convince a mother to allow a boy with an enlarged penis to steal her daughter’s virginity as part of a fight. That was going to be a real challenge. She would have to be particularly persuasive.

Her first thought would be to make a deal where, if the girl won, she could bite the boy’s cock. That would be a crowd pleaser, and an inducement for the girl to fight harder. She thought she could allow the girl to kick the boy in the nuts, and then realized she’d have done that more than once in the course of their fight.

Jackson would be thrilled at the innovations she was creating to make him more money.

She wondered how these greatly enhanced cocks on little boys would work out in the fight ring. Prior to the impressive penis enlargement


. . . to be continued

 No.6853

Jackson would be thrilled at the innovations she was creating to make him more money. He was giving her free reign, and she appreciated the headroom in developing the domestic operations of Lami Pi Productions. She had big ideas on how to grow her division, and was able to get things done the way she envisaged them.

Mothers who refused to let the violence of the fights escalate as their children gained more experience were out, and although they could continue to attend events, their kids were denied access to the ring until they mothers relented. Almost all of them did,, when they saw the raw excitement that came with the more violent bouts.

The kiddiefight Clubs in every State were growing, thriving and progressing according to Helen’s plan. New branches sprung up as the afternoon tea events gained popularity and fans. New Clubs would begin with tamer events, but would rapidly progress, thanks to the presence of experienced fans who demanded more of the eager yet protective mothers and their little girls.

A common problem erupting across the country was that many kindergarten and elementary school little girls were showing up with black eyes, scabbed noses and unexplained scratches on their bodies. What made it peculiar was that often there were two in the same school on the same day, and often these were best friends.

Helen had to put in place a policy that healing progressed well before the kids could return to class. That also meant that more kids that were home-schooled were put into the violent fights, where such injuries were most certain to occur. That policy caused more of the deeply committed mothers to home school their daughters.


CHAPTER 22 – The Lami Pi Organization


Billy Dickster had been handling his friend Jackson Avery’s recruiting division of Lami Pi Productions, a critical part of the operation, for nearly five years, and loved his position. He still procured select human livestock for a set of special clients, but his heart was in the position he held at his friend’s rapidly expanding empire, built around the kiddie fight and violent porn shows for which he did his best work.

His pet project was set up to serve Jackson’s personal taste for wealthy, educated and quite young mothers and their little daughters. That was a challenge, but to make it work he set up a dummy development company, one that brought in the right kind of clientele. If a young family had no kids, the answer to their application was that the development was full.

Billy took names, phone numbers and addresses for the young couples he turned down, because some of the hot young wives or girlfriends were exactly what he was looking for, and the information would make harvesting them later much easier when he was ready for them. It was very easy work. They had come to him.

His attention was on the young mothers and their daughters, born long before a young girl should be engaged in sexual activity, let alone be bearing babies. The girls on his list were between 17 and 21, with the youngest daughters 5-years-old, and the oldest 8. His motto, written in bold script on the top of the list, read ‘If they’re old enough to bleed, they’re old enough for slaughter.’

He had sold them all units in his luxury retreat; his advertising had been focused on young couples and single mothers with young daughters, rare beautiful girls with wealth to burn. All had inherited vast amounts from their parents or their sugar daddies who had mysteriously died. Billy knew exactly what should be done with their wealth.

The only unusual condition of a sale was that the insurance for the property had to be handled through a single company, one set up specifically to handle insuring new owners of this exclusive condo development. No matter what other insurance broker they favored, the buyers had no choice but to utilize the coverage supplied by Jackson Avery’s company.

Through a series of skillfully crafted paragraphs seemingly unrelated, but with very specific wording, several of the papers in the reams the girls had to sign spelled out that upon their death or disappearance, all of their assets were to go in their entirety to the condominium developer to cover any possible outstanding fees.

Even careful reading would not reveal this bizarre condition or its implications, which even if there were only a garbage pick-up fee, their millions of dollars in assets would automatically be assigned to the developer, who in this case was Jackson’s trusted friend Billy.

The mandatory insurance policy was required to complete the property purchase. It authorized the condominium developer to be the sole beneficiary in case of sudden or unexpected death of the buyer.

That covered everything. Jackson’s legal team was very experienced in these matters, and provided escape-proof contracts for his many special needs, styled in a way that the buyer would skim by, noticing nothing unusual, and was certain to sign.

This simple procedure ensured the husbands would disappear, and the cunts he attracted, along with their charming little daughters, would experience a violent death, naked, humiliated and grossly abused in ferocious sports designed simply for the entertainment and amusement of jaded wealthy gamblers.

With the ready assistance of his friend Billy, Jackson Avery had produced his own private cunt cuntry. Building contractors had been engaged, to construct what a trusted architect friend of Jackson’s designed to his specifications. It was important that any specific design features be ambiguous, so that no suspicions would be raised among the workers.

The builders understood by what he was told and by the name on each set of plans that they were creating an equestrian retreat where horses could be quarantined. That explained the development being on an island, and the need for both an airport for horse owners and a pier where large boats and barges could be docked for offloading of horses and supplies. It all made perfect sense.

The pier had been constructed first, to allow the delivery of the tons of building supplies. Construction had taken nine months, and everything was ready when the first shipment of human livestock arrived, to be housed in the barns. Stalls had been adjusted to prevent escape, and to allow for bunking and feeding of the captive little girls and their beautiful young mothers.

The male guards wore no pants, so that their penises were always ready to service the mothers, which was encouraged, so that they would conceive again. Nine months after the first arrivals of livestock, new babies were dropped, and the cycle of life was underway.

The little girls were out of bounds to the eager young guards, who were paid with all the free sex they could handle. If one of them molested a child, he was put into the fight ring, for a contest that continued until both participants had given up their gonads. The alternative was to take a bullet. Neither took that option.

The “cocks off” rule was, by necessity, strictly enforced. After an example was made of the first pair of violators, the rule proved to be an excellent deterrent. Only girls 12 or older were valid fuckers (they preferred to be called breeders) and the little ones remained intact, unless a special cherry-popping show was arranged.


. . . to be continued

 No.6855

Good to see Billy in the frame again.

 No.6900

Excellent! ...But I would like more cruelty.

 No.6903

Hi Anon and Polkan,

Thanks for the kind words. More cruelty is on the way, involving the kids themselves, the staff, and most delightfully, the coerced young mothers. Jackson learned from D-Ring the power if addiction.

 No.6906

It is a brilliant idea to breed and grow girls for fighting using young slave women. But I think it will be more nice do continue involving young innocent girls (and boys) from normative families. Normative mothers that coerce (and not only coerced) their daughters and sons to fight, sometimes executing their loser kids by their own hands.

 No.6917

That sounds deliciously cruel. It's nice to know a few people are reading my work, and are moved to comment. Thanks for doing so.

 No.6944

I just love the idea of organization in these kinds of stories, like that it's a whole system that's used to raise and train kids. I'd love to see more about the breeding and raising process for babies.

 No.6961

Midwych's story, on which the afternoon tea diversions is based, is I think from the UK. His organization was structured, but not quite like this one. The kids in his story were diapered, and the punches seldom resulted in more than an occasional nose bleed or black eye. I liked the idea of the enthusiasm of eager mothers being harnessed into private clubs. To draw it all together, I put Helen in charge. As this story develops, you'll see she has much more in mind.

I'll be happy to develop the breeding and training program. That's a great idea. I'm thinking of making their raising much like children in a normal home, to maintain for the kids a sense of adventure in going into the ring.

 No.6969

Not that you're necessarily into this, but I'd just love to see another side to the use of kids other than for guro and snuff ends, like sort of the same setup and organization around raising and breeding kids to be used as toilets, perhaps even in the fight facilities for the patrons who prefer that sort of thing.

My ideas are about them being bred and raised up to think lifestyles like that are normal, something they're trained to do perhaps from birth. I wish I could put the thoughts down in a story.

 No.6970

You have a pretty good start there. You're right, it is a limited area of interest, and I'm not sure it wouldn't turn off some of the guro readers. Why don't you give it a try yourself? I'd be interested to see how it works. Feel free to use the setting I've put together.

 No.6988

I prefer all the kids that are mentioned in the story (even one time) will lost their darling lives in the most cruel way while their mother are laughing and rubbing their pussies.

 No.6989

One more idea. A kid fighting with a grown up woman. What about the mother? Helen?

 No.7016

Helen is in her 50's, her daughter 21, with a 6-year-old. The matchup doesn't work. The daughter and granddaughter will be back.

 No.7038

>>Helen is in her 50's, her daughter 21, with a 6-year-old. The matchup doesn't work. The daughter and granddaughter will be back.


Hi Regis!

I meant mother OR someone from the stuff, like Helen.

Say, a girl wins her third fight and as it was promised to her thinking she is going home now. But... Here the next fight is announced. The girl has to fight with her mother or mother of one of the defeated girls. Or with all the mothers of all the girls she won them. Or with a volunteered woman (or women). Or Helen wants to fight the girl itself.

 No.7127

Sorry for the delay, but I've been getting all kinds of great idea suggested, and it does slow down the process. Much of the new writing is expanding what is already posted, with new episodes. I'm not quite sure how to handle the changes, other than to do a re-post of the entire story, once it is finished.

 No.8149

It's been 3 months since the last posting, and the story has been greatly expanded since then, including a lot of expansion of parts posted in this version. I've no idea how long it will be until it is completed, but if anyone is interested in reading the current version (pdf version now at 398 pages), please MM me on dolcettish.com.

One day this could become a book, but I don't think i'd find a publisher! :-o Looking forward to hearing from you. I'm using Encrypto for mail sent.

 No.8521

Absolutely stunning. Thope ther is plenty more to come. Will post any suggestions or ideas.
Thanks

 No.8522

Absolutely stunning. Thope ther is plenty more to come. Will post any suggestions or ideas.
Thanks

 No.8523

Again, I'm not sure when the next will be ready for posting, but there has been plenty of expansion through the text posted here, and if anyone would like a look at the current state of the story, PM me on dolcettish.com. Thanks for the feedback!

 No.9159

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 No.9171

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