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CNF 05 girls were the One Year Girls

WARNING: The chapters in this story contain
scenes of graphic sex involving lesbianism,
masturbation, mechanical sex acts,
bestiality, and bondage, all with strong
undercurrents of pain, and, if you can
believe it, romance. In code, that is [f ff
fd ffdd mech bd pain rom]. If subject
matter of this nature does not interest you,
do not read any farther.

All events in this story are fictional.
(DUH!) All the characters in this story are
fictional. This is a fantasy, i.e. a place
where physical acts and human responses are
not limited to or necessarily based in
reality. Therefore, some acts and responses
described are physically impossible or
physiologically improbable. Do not try them
yourself, especially alone. This story is
intended for the salacious entertainment of
consenting adults, not as an instructional
manual. Again, do not try to do any of the
things described in this story. You will
injure yourself or your partner.

If you are under 18 years of age, go away.
This will burn your eyeballs.

If material of a strong sexual nature is
prohibited where you are, go away.

By continuing, the reader accepts all
responsibility for any disgust, revulsion,
jail sentences, or pleasure that result from
reading this story.

You have been warned!

That said, enjoy!..:)

NightShade

*******





Cindy's New Friends

By NightShade.

Chapter 5

When Cindy managed to make her way back down to the
front desk, there was an `Urgent' message waiting. The
Chairperson of the library's Board of Directors had
called for Mrs. Cross while Cindy had been unavailable,
and from the message it was clear that she was angry.

As Cindy read the message, her heart began to pound and
her knees almost gave way. She was to take a package
from the library to a person named Mary Sheffield at
the Sheffield Estates. Mrs. Cross herself had called
later to make sure Cindy remembered to deliver that
package on her way home tonight. In fact, she was to
leave as soon as she could.

Sheffield Estates! The name sent shivers up and down
her spine. Max lived there! The thought that she
might see Max was the only thought in her mind.
Nothing else mattered. Not Mrs. Cross, the bumps, the
bruises, or the rapidy darkening evening sky. Only
Max.

The estate was located out of town at an angle slightly
away from where Cindy lived, but there was a shortcut
from the far side of the estate property through the
woods over to her cottage. It was a narrow path she
had used once or twice before. It was probably the
same one that Max had used to visit her. It was safe,
even in the dark, but it was very bumpy.

The temporary worker at the front desk was just walking
out the door as Cindy came downstairs from collecting
the books Mrs. Sheffield had wanted, giving her a
dispirited wave without even looking around. She had
passed on the messages, and couldn't wait to get home
to her tape-delayed Soaps. Fuckin' nuisance, having to
work...

Cindy picked up the package from the front desk, and
carefully locked up the library. Gingerly getting on
her bike, she checked the directions to the estate and
started on the long ride to where she might see Max.

She rode along that afternoon in an erotic daze. Every
tiny bump in the road jarred her bicycle seat into her
sore ass, reminding her of her ride on the machine.
Even the tiny cracks in the pavement sent a thrill
coursing through her, flooding her mind with memories
and her cunt with juice. She subconsciously began to
look for as many potholes and bumps to ride over as she
could find.

The pedaling, bouncing and swerving to find the bumps
caused her bra-less tits to swing erratically, her sore
nipples rubbing against the coarse fabric of her work
shift. Shock waves rocketed up and down her spine with
every tiny scrape against the rough material. The
puffy little buttons were gluttons for the titillating
punishment, reaching out from her breasts like brave
little soldiers on the long ride.

As she approached the estates, she also was approaching
another breathless climax. It seemed almost routine
for her today - almost! Pedaling the bike had worked
her thighs back and forth and over and over. Each
cycle of the pedals put considerable pressure on her
swollen clit.

She had discovered on the trip to work a couple of days
ago that squeezing her thighs together when she pedaled
would trap that tiny bud of flesh between them. If she
leaned forward over the handlebars and kind of sat on
the horn of the bicycle seat at the same time she
squeezed her thighs together, she could make her slit
feel funny - but really good. The next day she had
tipped the slender bicycle seat upward to make it less
obvious to passersby that she was pressing the horn up
against her cunt and clit. She was learning so many
things, never mind that some of them did not seem
normal.

Now, however, without her panties to prevent
penetration, the upturned tapered horn of that bicycle
seat was acting just like a short prick. Her juices
had lubricated the smooth leather of the seat almost
before she had left the library parking lot.

She was riding with her heart in her throat as she
approached the gates to the mansion, so close to the
edge of her next cum. She needed just a little more
time. The estate driveway had speed bumps in front of
the gate that were high, and, not being prepared for
them, the front tire of the bike hit the first one
harder than she meant it to. The horn of the seat
drove deep into her cunt.

"OHHHHH, GGGGOOOODDD!"

The back tire hit the first bump just before the first
tire hit the second.

"Ohhhh ----OOOHHHHHH SHHHIIITTT!!"

There were six speed bumps..

She was still shaking from her orgasm as she managed to
brake to a stop. Slowly extricating the horn of the
seat from her pussy, she walked her bike over to the
gate and buzzed the house on the intercom.

"Hello," came the metallic voice after a short wait.

"Hi. My name is Cindy. From the library. Mrs. Cross
was to deliver a package to you tonight, but she
couldn't make it." she said shakily. "She, uh, she
sent me."

"Come," said the voice shortly.

Cindy giggled at the irony of the lady's choice of
words and started up the drive as soon as the gate had
opened far enough to let her push her bike through.
'Cum' was one of the new words she had learned about
just this last week from one of the less naughty
magazines kept in the 'mature' section on the second
floor. Pretty tame stuff compared to the fourth floor,
but educational for Cindy, nonetheless.

The first thing Cindy noticed about Sheffield Estates
was the long row of kennels along the far side of the
house. The house was beautiful and classic, the
grounds were immaculate and lush. But it was the
kennels that drew her attention. There were about
fifteen dogs that she could see and they all looked big
and strong. Without exception, they were all males and
they all were watching her with a quivering intensity
as she slowly rode up the drive. It sent a shiver
through her, almost as if she and the canines could
smell the other's pheromones over such a distance.

"That's where Max lives." She focused on that thought,
on her lover. "I hope I get to see him."

Mary watched the young girl ride up. She noticed Cindy
staring intently in the direction of the barking dogs
on her ride up the hill.

"I do hope she isn't afraid of big dogs," she frowned.
Mary misinterpreted Cindy's rapt attention for fear.
"I'd hate to lose her at this point. Well, we'll just
have to take it as it comes."

Cindy rang the bell and stood back from the door,
continually glancing towards the kennels. Her hopes of
sighting her long-absent lover were high. Her heart
was pounding and her breath was fast and shallow. The
door swung open and a stirringly beautiful - and
vaguely familiar - woman stood before her.

Cindy's heart stopped its rapid beating. Of course!
She had seen this woman before, and she knew exactly
where. She was one of the women in the pictures where
they were licking and sucking on each other's pussies.

She blushed as she imagined the stately woman before
her in that lewd embrace. The two women in the
pictures had had their mouths and tongues in between
each other's legs. You could see their tongues
sticking in and everything! The mental image in
Cindy's mind inserted her own image into the picture,
just she and this woman standing before her, doing
those things to each other..

Then Cindy saw him, and her expression changed to one
of pure innocent lust.

Mary again misinterpreted Cindy's look. She constantly
had men and women stare at her. Although it never
failed to excite her, it became tiring after a while.
Her thoughts about Cindy were, ironically, almost
identical to those in Cindy's mind. This young girl attracted to her.

Mary did not know that Max had padded silently up
behind her. She was totally unprepared for Cindy's
lunge toward her.

Mary was bringing up her arms to ward off the charging
teenager, when she heard Cindy squeal "MAAAAAAX!" The
look of puzzlement on her face was priceless, but
neither of the other two in the entryway were paying
much attention to her.

The big dog was completely engulfed in the love-starved
girl's arms. He looked up at his Mistress with what
could only be a guilty face and a sly grin. Mary
guessed immediately that something had gone on between
them, even if he hadn't fucked her. Whatever it was,
the girl had obviously enjoyed it - and wanted a repeat
performance. Mary returned the mischievous grin and
nodded her approval. Max's tail quickened its pace.

"Oh Max, I've missed you so much. Why didn't you come
back to visit me? I left water out for you everyday.
Oh, Max, it's so good to see you. You feel so good.."

The words poured out of the kneeling girl before she
realized what she was saying.

"Well, hello to you, too!" said the dark-haired woman,
with a grin. "I'm Mary. I see you two already know
each other."

Sheepishly, Cindy got to her feet, but kept her hand
firmly, possessively on the dog's head, petting him
between the ears.

"Uuuhh, yeah," Cindy started. "Uuhh, Max came to visit
me one day. I live over across the valley." She
pointed in the approximate direction of her cottage.
"He must have taken the short cut and stopped by to get
a drink of water." she faltered. Cindy was a poor
liar.

"Yeah sure," Mary thought. "A drink of water, and a
bite to eat, I'll bet. And you loved it!"

Mary knew what Max liked. Hell, she should. She had
given him all of his special training personally.
"Shit, dogs are just like men. They will fuck any
hole, anywhere anytime," was what she told her
customers. It wasn't the kid's fault Max had seduced
her. Besides, unlike a man, a dog always came back.

She decided to let her off the hook. "You have a
package for me?" Mary reminded her.

Cindy reached into her pocket and reluctantly pulled
out the parcel. Once it was delivered, she had no more
reason to stay. As the awkward parcel came out, her
bloody, soiled panties slipped out unnoticed by her
onto the floor.

Mary smiled to herself. "So young, so načve, so
gullible, so beautiful. There ought to be a law.."
She stopped herself when she realized that there
probably were a couple hundred laws against what she
had planned for the girl, but that hadn't stopped her
yet.

"Why don't I get you a drink and you can refresh
yourself before you head back?" Mary asked her. "You
must have had a long ride out here."

"That would be nice, Thank You," Cindy answered
quickly, not wanting to leave Max. She wasn't sure
exactly what she wanted to happen - especially here in
this stranger's house, but the nearness of the dog drew
her like a magnet.

"Let's go down into the playroom," said the older woman. "I can get you something from the bar down
there."

Mary led the way into a room at the bottom of a short
stairway and opened the heavy door. She went over to a
bar recessed into the wall and poured two large drinks.
A discrete tip of a bottle with clear liquid and
Cindy's drink was loaded with an extra kick of alcohol.

"Cheers," she said, toasting Cindy. She watched as
Cindy hesitantly sipped at her drink, and then, liking
the taste, swallowed it down in one gulp.

"I don't drink much," said Cindy, holding out her glass
for a refill. "These are good. What are they?

"These are Margaritas," said Mary. "My own mixture."
She poured Cindy's glass to the brim, again with the
extra-lethal mixture.

Cindy drank the second drink down like it was a soft
drink and put the empty glass on the bar.

"I, uh noticed the speed bumps on the way in. Are they
new?" Cindy mentally kicked herself. She wasn't good
at small talk, but she was making a real effort to drag
out her visit. Max was right there beside her and she
couldn't bear to leave yet. But speed bumps..?

"Well, yes, they are," Mary replied with one eyebrow
raised. She hadn't a clue what Cindy was talking about
or where she was headed. "I, uh, I needed to slow down
the delivery trucks.

"Say, Cindy, why don't you make yourself at home here
and visit with Max for a while. I have to make a
couple of phone calls and put this package away."

Mary winked at Max and nodded slightly. That was her
signal to him that it was 'OK' to play with the new
fuck-toy any way he wanted. He would not have to wait
for permission to use her.

Max woofed eagerly and gave a small jump of excitement.
His mistress didn't willingly let him mark other female
humans very often. His feet stuttered on the floor in
eagerness. He could smell that this one was already
aroused. He was anxious to get started.

Mary grinned. "She must really be a hot one. Max
never gets that excited." She felt a dark jealousy
take root in her heart. She could not let this
relationship grow anymore.

As Mary left the playroom, she flipped the hidden switch that activated the video cameras that covered
every inch of the room in any light. Smiling
contentedly to herself, she proceeded up to the control
room to watch the show that she knew was going to
happen.

.or she didn't know Max.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Tan Chew, or 'Joe Tan' to his Occidental colleagues,
read the latest dispatch from Quan-Loc he had received
over the hidden channel on the spy satellite. Not even
his older brother, Tan Phoc, knew about that special
channel, much less the chinese military. It was his
own personal communications channel, and each of the 12
spy satellites the chinese military would launch into
orbit in the next two years had one or more hidden features.

Joe was Number Two son in a relatively unknown family.
Unknown, that is, outside of the inner circles of the
Chinese government. Inside those circles, the Tan
family was the equivalent of the entire Western
military-industrial complex. In typical Oriental
fashion, the chinese had realized the need for such a
research oriented complex. They also realized the
inevitability of the profit, greed and corruption that
the existence of such an organization would generate.
They therefore correctly reasoned that with this
massive complex in the hands of one family instead of
many different families, the total amount of the profit
and corruption would be contained and would be less
overall. The Tan's, although not of pure chinese ancestry, were chosen for this dubious honor.

As Number One Son, Phoc had been trained to run the
huge complex, negotiating contracts and setting
production goals. His education had been entirely
Chinese, and he distained anything Western. Except
blonde women. These excited his jaded passions as
nothing else, but none had survived their first and
last night with him. It was his secret, closely
guarded. As far as he knew only one other person, his
best spy and his procurer, knew of his secret. His
other secret, that he had viciously murdered his father to accelerate his assumption of the family leadership
was widely known. Phoe went so far as to encourage the
spread of that secret.

Joe, on the other hand, had been educated in the West,
graduating at the top of his class at Princeton. The
course of his postgraduate work confused his advisors,
as he took advanced courses in several different
scientific disciplines, from aeronautics to
astrophysics to microelectronics. He excelled at all
the different disciplines, driven by a hidden force
that pushed him into biochemistry and pharmacology,
metallurgy and economics.

After seven years of attending seemingly random courses
from the leading experts in several Universities
throughout the West, Joe had suddenly gone home to head
up the research and development sections of the Tan
family's vast interests. And immediately began to
chafe under his brother's unimaginative leadership.
But such was the life for a Number Two son. To all
outward appearance, he was living the life of a prince,
no want or desire unfulfilled.

Currently he was flying east over the vast deserts of
the American Southwest, headed for a small obscure
airport in one of the landlocked middle states. He had
had to divert to San Francisco briefly to take care of
some business, but, glancing down and smiling a self-
satisfied grin, that business was now complete.

He wasn't sure if the small girl sitting by his side
knew just how big a role she had played in the
diversion, but he guessed she didn't. Her family had
been the primary contact with Western businesses for
the Tans, as well as the base of their industrial
espionage. The girl's mother had made the mistake of
secretly sending a family portrait to her parents when
the girl had been two years old. That had been 5 years
ago.

Joe had acquired that portrait 3 years ago, never mind
how, and his first glimpse of the perfect china doll
features of the little girl had sealed their fate. It
had taken him three years, but he had finally
maneuvered Phoc into calling for her family's
extermination. There were no half-measures in this
business. Because of his Western contamination and the
sensitivity of the task, Joe knew he would be called
upon to carry out the sentence. Best of all, none of
the scurrilous and false reports could be traced back
to him. They had all come from his brother's own spy
within Joe's organization.

The little girl's future was all mapped out, though she
was unaware of that, just as she was unaware of the
role Joe had played in her family's fiery and horrible
deaths. Joe and Liu, his bodyguard, had unexpectedly
called to visit the girl's family. He was 'Uncle Joe'
to her and she had given him a big hug before greeting
him formally, as she was being trained. As usual when
he visited, he stayed with them at the family compound.

Last night he and Liu had gone from room to room, duct-
taping mouths, hands and feet, accounting for all of
her family - aunts, uncles and cousins included - as
they worked silently into the wee hours of the morning.
Liu produced another body about the size of the seven-
year old from her large carry-on bag. With the body
count complete, Joe had burned the sleeping section of
the compound to the ground, killing all inside.
Without a remorseful thought, Joe and Liu had then
spirited the sleeping girl to the airport and were now
headed for the second part of the trip. She would
never be missed.

For the next five years, until she was 12 or 13, the
little girl would be pampered beyond any Western
imagination. Her days would be filled with tutors,
nannies, cooks, maids, and so on. But no other
children. Although she would be one of five girls in a
special building, none had any idea of the others. Few
even knew of the building.

These girls were the One Year Girls, known by that name
because of their expected life-span after they went to
live with Joe. Only one, Liu, had survived longer and
that was because she had tricked the new One Year girl into taking her place on the night of her execution.

One Year girls were educated and trained for the sole
purpose of bringing pleasure to Joe. No one else. At
around age 11, the girls were begun on a heavy regimen
of the drugs he had begun providing to Mary Sheffield.
These herbal drugs enhanced and accelerated the girl's
sexual development, physically and mentally. By the
time the girls were 12 or 13, they were fully developed
physically, and primed and ready to explode sexually.
Usually the girls had to be kept restrained to keep
from taking their own virginities, something Joe
coveted above all else.

For two nights each year, the rookie One Year girl and
the veteran One Year girl would spend time together.
With Joe. By the end of one year with him, there was
little left that the One Year girl hadn't experienced.
Certainly nothing Joe could think of had been omitted
and he was very perverted. The veteran girl would
bring the rookie to Joe's bed, arouse her and then hold
her down while Joe deflowered her in one mighty thrust.

He loved the screams of pain that that sudden
impalement caused them and would inevitably ejaculate
very quickly. As the screaming subsided, turning into
silent whimpers and then sighs of pleasure as their
years of training and conditioning took over, Joe would
find himself hard once more. It had never failed to
arouse him to a second bout. He would look for and
find the look of pride, of fulfillment the deflowered
girl received from having made him ejaculate into her
body. This was what they lived for, what they had been
conditioned for, what they had longed for this past
year.

The next night would be a repeat of the first, being
led into his room by the older girl, seduced and held
down by her. This time, however, his target would be
her virginal anus. This time the screams didn't stop.
There were no sighs of pleasure for her. Joe often was
able to penetrate her tender orifice three or four
times that second night, especially if she kept
screaming. Often bleeding, the young girl would be
sedated and carried back to her quarters, left alone
for three or four nights to recover.

The third night, the veteran One Year girl would come
to Joe alone. She would be quickly stripped and bound,
an activity she was used to by this time. Then she
would be lead to an underground compound, taken to a
large round room with observation windows all the way
around, tied by a rope around her neck so that she was
positioned on her elbows and knees and left then alone.

To the veteran One Year Girls, this forced doggy
position caused them no alarm, as Joe had used and
abused them repeatedly over the past year for his
entertainment, including breeding them with all manner
of animals and machines. Usually these girls did not
realize the danger they were in until they saw the
crazed eyes of the mature male baumkind rushing towards
them in a mating frenzy. Some of the more fortunate
girls were facing the wrong way when the small door in
the wall was opened and they never saw their death
approaching.

This ceremony they were a part of was a reward for the
outstanding services allowed to one baumkind agent each
year. For all of their pain and suffering, they got
the opportunity to try to copulate. Joe figured the
mature males were going to die shortly anyway from the
dangerous levels of hormones released into their system
by the onset of puberty, so he devised this secret
ceremony as an incentive to one group of his
organization while solving a messy little problem in
another at the same time. Dead girls didn't spread
secrets. And after one year, they became jaded. He
preferred the fear and innocence of that first year.

He had come up with this solution early on in his work
with the baumkind, when the first genetically altered
specimens had reached puberty. At first no one had any
idea what was happening in the lab, but the horny
little bastards were running around rutting with
anything that had an orifice, with fatal consequences
for the fuckees. Gender didn't matter to the
screeching little devils, nor did the hole even have to
be animate. Joe had witnessed the rape of several Coke
bottles those first few frustrating months.

Autopsy reports on the mutants had indicated high
levels of testosterone as well as multiple ruptured
arteries in the lungs, brain and penis. The arterial
ruptures were the cause of death for the baumkind
males. Their chosen mates, however, had all been
ripped to shreds by the razor sharp claws. Joe had
finally contained the problem with massive doses of
steroids, dampening the sexual development of the male
baumkind. This had two benefits. First, it gave him
about 3 to 4 more useful years from the little buggers.
Second, by carefully creating a myth about the new
ceremony, he gained an almost religious-like devotion
from the secret agents. He hadn't lost one yet.

He gazed once more at the porcelain-like child in the
seat beside him. She was sitting quietly, her trust in
her 'uncle' complete. The passions that this fragile
little girl and others like her excited in him was his
deepest darkest secret, one he considered a weakness,
but one he couldn't control. He had gone to great
lengths to isolate this part of his life, but, even as
he knew his brother's uncontrollable secret passion for
blonde women, so too, he feared his brother knew of his
secret. In his brother's place, he would have.

Joe felt that secrets were weaknesses. He also knew
that weaknesses could be exploited.
End of Chapter

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