notes
Her heart broke for his enthusiasm. Timmy was quite adept at ‘making friends’, though not in the way that many fellow parents appreciated. The fact was, dozens of teachers and students at Timmy’s last school had turned up pregnant, and there was no doubt that Timmy was the cause. Even though he was only six years old and cute as a button with his precocious ways and downy-cheeked enthusiasm, his little short shorts were absolutely stuffed full with a fat, coiling length of throbbing penis that was sixteen inches long and dropped nearly to the floor when Timmy stood up
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movies men and women hug and kiss with each other?" Several boys and girls made sour faces. "That's because men and women find each other attractive. They fall in love with each other, and sing those songs on the radio. And you don't need to worry about that, because you're just kids and you'll only feel that way when you're older." Several children looked dubious. "Now Mr. Little is different. He doesn't think adult women are the kind of people he'd fall in love with or want to get all kissy with. He thinks that way about little girls -- like you here." That got the attention of the kids. "So is he going to kiss us?" said a girl with distaste. "No! Not at all! It's just that he might dream about something like that. But he knows he can never kiss any of you." Mr. Little put in, "Nor do I want to. I don't want to kiss anybody who doesn't want to be kissed and loved. And no little girls do. So that's settled. But if I make a mistake and look at you tenderly, that sort of thing might be in the back of my mind. And I hope you'll tell me to stop because I never want to make anyone uncomfortable that way and if it happens I wasn't careful enough." ---------------------------------------------------------
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wants to do things with me now!" "Oh," said Justin. "You really think I'm lovely and charming?" "Absolutely
But they did not wait at all. The brunette and the blonde jumped on him and started removing his clothes. His backpack was easy enough, and the shirt made it out with only a little tearing, but when his pants’ turn came, he was thrown to the ground and manhandled. With only his boxers on, he made a faint attempt
And with that, the plan was complete. He turned around, presenting his wide back to her; she swore he’d grown even bigger between the night her sexuality had awoken and now. Unlike him, she was slow and methodical, enjoying every contour, muscle group, and bone in his body. Admittedly, it was a little difficult scrubbing such a large area, especially for someone as tiny as her; she was skinny and only four feet tall, so he was like a giant in comparison. She could hear his breathing becoming heavier and faster, and his body language increasingly more awkward. That was the result of her secret ingredient: the aphrodisiac she was rubbing on him. She would keep going until the urge to molest her became irresistible, that the temptation bordered on torture, that he’d even consider chopping his testicles off if that would stop it. “I better clean up down there, too!” she said, assaulting his genitals. “Kaia! That’s not in my back!” he exclaimed, trying to pass if off as a joke. He placed his hand over hers, but did nothing to stop her motions; he was too protective of his little sister to risk hurting her. She had finally got her hands on the organ she’d fantasised about the most: her big brother’s cock. He was a large man in all respects, and his privates were no exception. Not only was he hung like a horse, but shaped like one, too. She stroked her brother’s equine member, spreading the aphrodisiac ointment where it was most potent, until had inflated to its full twelve inches, hard as rock and flaring with arousal. “Brother got big! Maybe he likes me?” she teased him. He was torn between the depravity of what done to him and the pleasure it brought him, almost paralysing him in place. He couldn’t muster words one way or the other, and that was ample opportunity for her to lose the impish façade and give him a full on handjob. “It’s okay, big brother. I like you, too.” Her motions were ridiculously wide in order to cover the full size of his organ; at a foot long and three inches wide, he was almost as large as her arm, and she had trouble even wrapping her hand around it. In a way, she couldn’t get enough of it either, as if he was teasing her back. His rock hard, gigantic member, pumping full of hot blood, yet somehow still soft to the touch. She traced his full size repeatedly, almost obsessively, taken in by his might, and what he could do to her if he shoved all of it inside her. She changed her target, placing one of her hands on his testicles, focusing the other on the mushroom topping his cock. She folded his oversized balls, gently, softly, trying not to hurt his most sensitive parts. Those balls were producing semen for a grade schooler’s hands now, so soft and elegant they were more erotic than any old hag’s vagina. His glans flared to the rhythm of his arousal as she stimulated the edges, the tip, and even his opening. “You can have more than my hands, you know,” she whispered, all playfulness now gone. “You can have any part of me you like. You can use all of your 9-year-old baby sister for your pleasure. You can do anything you want. Be a paedophile for me.” Her words seemed to have an effect, because Kaia’s brother exploded in orgasm. His testicles tightened, his length twitched, and his flare widened as far as it could, as surge after surge of semen shot out with surprising force, dousing her hands and the wall. She felt her own arousal building up, proud in the knowledge she’d brought her brother to completion, using nothing but her tiny bare hands. She’d made him climax with her childish charms, her illegal sexiness that he denied, yet secretly craved.
Running a kindergarten class can be broken down like any other job to goals and desired outcomes, and procedures to achieve those. The science of educating young kids is not extremely complicated and I'd studied it for years. Even on the first day I could identify a lot of antisocial behaviors I was going to have to address, but there were simple methods to do just that.
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the care and lightness of a cat. His eyes travelled up her limb, from toes to calf to thigh to waist, and finally her forbidden core on her groin, covered by golden plate that guarded its chastity, a popular practice in their upper class, signalling her purity prior to being bedded. It was held in place by a charm, but still, there was a decorative, hair-thin golden chain going around her waist, connected at its left and right sides. At its centre, a large gemstone of her family line, surely worth more by itself than everything he’d ever own combined. She noticed his staring and shifted to the left in response, her foot now on his thigh, sitting on his shoulder. Her hair fell and brushed on his ear; it was so soft compared to his fur, he almost couldn’t believe it could grow on a person. Up close to her, he could appreciate how much smaller she was: at twice her width and height, his thumbs alone were as wide as her lanky legs; his arms more massive than her abdomen. “You look, but you don’t touch. What are you afraid of?” she asked. Execution, he thought. “I can’t. You’re…” “An elf? Small? Young?” she offered. Placing her foot over the cloth on his groin, she felt his member through it. He wasn’t proud of it, but he reacted with pleasure. “Those are all the things you love.” She lowered another leg and then got off his shoulder so that she could sit on his lap, making sure she rubbed herself against him all the way down. “How many times, I wonder, have you thought about it. Where no one can judge.” Her skinship had emboldened the rest of the elves to begin their own approach. He gulped. He could see where this was going and wasn’t sure he was entirely comfortable with it. “I should go,” he said and tried to get up, but was interrupted when she put a hand on his shoulder and shoved. Light and girlish at first, but the force rose and rose and rose, until it was plain as day that it was well beyond the capacity of her muscles, enough to pose a serious threat. They were older, and with age came power, and it was enough that they could rip his arms straight off. “Thought about little elves in skimpy outfits. Little elves with flat chests, barely pubescent, if even that. Little elves who’d saved themselves for hundreds, thousands of years, waiting to give their treasures to someone larger… thicker… equine.” “No, I—” One of the girls had grabbed his hand and was sucking on his finger. Ah, her little tongue! It was so hot! The tongue of a tiny girl! This couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t be real, but the sensation on his digit couldn’t be his imagination. Not to be outdone, the blonde who’d been speaking to him was licking his neck and clavicle with raw desire, like the nectar of the gods had been spilled on him. Taking this as a sign, more of them joined in, holding onto any part of him they could find and licking, touching, feeling, their little minds lost in lust over him. “Mister, aren’t you sexually attracted to children?” “What good stallion isn’t?” “Ah…! The taste of a horse…! The taste of a paedophile!” The elves spoke as they felt him up; there were so many of them that he couldn’t hope to tell which
the gain in satisfaction. Today he’d learned his true self: not a warrior, not a stallion, but a rapist of
every time he showed the slightest resistance, he was promptly reminded of how much force their little bodies could exert. And how much pleasure. Oh, gods, the pleasure. Their little tongues and mouths, the touch of prepubescent girls on every part of his body. It was like he was bathing in their saliva, even as the fluid underneath penetrated his brain through his nostrils. It was an aphrodisiac—it had to be—and at this point he was hardly opposed to its effects. There were so many of them. He recalled that there had been several girls, but this was getting ridiculous. Just as one had sneaked upon him previously, more must have been pouring in from the entrances; there had to be more than a dozen of them on him. These little girls ought to be practising, or singing, or whatever it was that elves liked to do, and instead they were worshipping a big, black stallion. The bejewelled blonde on his neck had noticed his enjoyment and shifted her attention to his crotch. She pressed against the cloth covering him, grabbed it, and threw it as far as she could, to the other end of the room. His flared, flat-tipped cock was the size of an arm—his arm, that is—and still not in full mast. The girls were audibly impressed; oohs and ahhs echoing around him. Still on his lap, the blonde raised her foot to his member, pressing her toes and sole on its base. Her knee was almost level with her face; she was quite the contortionist. She caressed his neck and cheek with a hand on one end, and from the other she licked and smelled, until her mouth was near his ear. “You tried to leave, but you’re very honest here.” She stepped harder on his cock to add impact to her words. “You like that, don’t you? You like being stepped on by little children. You like driving them crazy. My foot is the highest privilege you’ll ever earn.” He didn’t reply, but his hard and fast breathing gave his feelings away. She got off him and out of the bath, grabbing his hands and raising them over his head. She locked them and pressed them against the floor with her weight, which admittedly wasn’t much, but he knew that she could break them if he dared try anything. She was looking down on him, right in his eyes, though she was inverted. They were so large and golden, such a great match for her skin, the most spotless porcelain… The other elves took this opportunity to shift his position, raising his legs and opening them wide, moving his hips so that they had better access to the part of him they most desired. Three went right for his testicles, each about the size of their heads, smelling, and licking, even kneading them with their little hands. Most were on his length, itself gradually inflating, so that more and more of them could focus their attention to it. Alas, there were too many of them and only one of him, so whoever was left had to make do with his limbs, his armpits, anything that was relatively unoccupied. She lowered her head to kiss him. Their features were so mismatched—a face and a snout, a large horse and a child—that it was hardly reminiscent of romance, but still, their tongues connected. Her hair fell around him, blocking peripheral vision, ticking his face. As he drank her saliva, it was like the purest fluid was coursing through him, removing every hint of corruption from his body through his digestive tract. Every hint of corruption except for his mad lust for her young, immature body. Among them, some looked a little younger, some a little older, but the variation wasn’t very large, nor did it make him look any less of a paedophile, as none would’ve passed as older than an 11 year old child. He was the worst, truly the worst, but the loss of self-esteem was more than outweighed by the gain in satisfaction. Today he’d learned his true self: not a warrior, not a stallion, but a rapist of children

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