Asstr Photo

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Asstr Photo

Jenny took the divorce of her parents hard
and sulked for weeks after Hal left. Twelve is a tough age to
deal with the loss of a daddy and twelve was the first birthday
without him. She seemed to be getting over it, though, and she
was wise beyond her years having been sexually active since the
age of eight. She not only missed her daddy, she missed her lover.


One rainy Saturday afternoon a month after his
departure, Jenny came to join her mother at the dining table and
blurted out, "Daddy's not my real daddy, is he?"


"I knew you'd figure it out one day. It's
not like I tried to keep it a big secret. Christ, your father
and I didn't meet until I was sixteen."


"I never knew when you guys met. I always
thought you were sweethearts that got careless then married when
you were old enough. It's no big deal, really; but who was the
guy that got lucky?"


"Honey, I don't know who your father was,
but I can narrow him to a field of seven men. Your Grandpa, my
daddy, is a prime candidate."


"No, he didn't rape me. He did use intimidation,
cunning, and deception, though; and he did screw me two or three
times a day during that time."


"What did he do, exactly? Come on, I told
you about all the things Daddy did to me. Come on, tell me about
my bad Grandpa and his band of merry perverts. I'm in the mood
for a juicy sex story. I haven't had a good poke in over a month."


"Oh, all right. If you want a juicy sex story,
I'll give you one that will drown your asshole. For your information,
from the moment they learned I was pregnant with you, they took
me out of school and kept me at home, naked, with my arms bound
behind my back. I could do nothing for myself. I was fed, pottied,
enemaed, twat-shaved, fucked, sucked, photographed, and mated
to dogs on a daily basis; and all I could do was watch my tits
and belly grow."


"Oh, God, Mother! I love it. Tell me the
whole story, from the beginning. How did it start?"


"This all started when Daddy got into photography
and built a studio out back. Mom wanted him to have a hobby after
his medical retirement, and she fully supported his interest in
photography. He went away to schools, took courses, and invested
literally thousands in fancy equipment.


"One day, he asked me to be his model. He
told me he wanted to take artistic pictures of me to enter in
contests. I was so flattered, me, an art photography model at
the age of twelve. At first, that's just what they were, art photos.
Though many involved partial or total nudity, they were tastefully
done. He entered my pictures in contests and won a few minor awards.
Mom made a big deal out of the awards and displayed them proudly.
The underground kiddie porn exchange discovered Daddy long before
he received any real recognition. They wanted more graphic shots--frontal
nudes and beaver shots. They paid in cash. Daddy really got into
photography then. Mom thought it was great that Daddy turned pro."


"Mother, this is making me hotter than shit.
I have to masturbate. I'm sorry, but I have to."


"Mom didn't know Daddy had a little home-grown
porno business going, and he also had a local clientele. In her
mind, Daddy was a professional art photographer with an international
clientele. Had she ever just poked her head in his studio, she'd
have known what was going on. The place was wallpapered with my
pornographic pictures. Those pictures were in no way tasteful
and grew progressively less so. It wasn't long before he had me
doing the splits over a camera lens. He had me assume gymnastic
poses, nasty poses designed to show my beaver. My tits weren't
much to speak of at that time, about like yours are now, tittie
buds, but I knew I had a pretty pussy. I knew we weren't making
art, but I grew to enjoy posing for nasty pictures and showing
my sexy pussy. They grow on you after a while.


"Before long, the weekly sessions took a
pornographic turn, and grew progressively more pornographic as
Daddy tried to fill customer requests. This trend, I didn't like,
but Daddy was a pro at moving me along from one level to the next
while blaming the escalation on demands of the market place. In
no time he had me masturbating for the camera. He had me fucking
myself in the ass with rubber dicks. He gave me enemas. He had
me sucking his cock within a month. He fucked my ass the following
month and took my cherry a week later. I was thirteen at that
time, and I prayed Mom would find out what was going on and put
an end to it, because I couldn't.


"When I stopped protesting, and he knew I
wouldn't tell on him, he began inviting his porno buddies over
for photo sessions. They only watched, at first, but they soon
began to use me as well. This went on all through High School,
and actually continued long after your dad and I were married."


"Wow, I guess Dad was right; you were getting
it on the side."


"Side, back, front, up-side-down, and in
every hole."


"Cool! But why did you keep posing for Grandpa
after you got married?"


"Daddy blackmailed me with the pictures he
had; and besides, I enjoyed the variety."


"After we started fucking with his dad, I
didn't care about the blackmail, and I just got tired of being
a sex toy for a bunch of dirty old men when I was getting all
the sex I wanted right at home. I just quit."


"Yes, but not at first. The story is long,
rather complicated, and more than a little bizarre. If you're
in a hurry, I'll tell you about her some other time if you want
to get right to the juicy parts."


"No, I've got plenty of time. I want to hear
everything; besides, Grandma Stevens is my favorite relative.
She's the one who encouraged me to show my pussy to grown men.
I'd really like to know how she fits into this."


"Well, that doesn't surprise me. Okay, I'll
start at the beginning, but you have to realize that she was not
the woman that you know today. When I was a young girl, she made
Mary Poppins look like a whore. Mom was very excited when Daddy
and I began working together, and she cleared three walls in anticipation
of creating a gallery of award-winning photos to go with the plaques
and trophies. When she saw the first picture to win an award,
she blushed and said how nice it was, then placed the picture
in a box. It wasn't bad at all. It showed nothing. It's just that
I had nothing on.


"After that, Mom just wanted the awards,
not the pictures, and she wanted nothing to do with the studio
out back that produced them. That was fine with Daddy. Still,
she saw plenty but never acknowledged what she saw for what it
was. This was my biggest frustration. Imagine standing before
a cop with a mugger behind you. The mugger has a gun in your back
and is wearing a ski mask. You have your hands high, and the cop
doesn't notice anything unusual. That's what my home life was
like for me. Mom either had a classic case of chronic denial syndrome,
or she was the most naive human on Earth. I never found out which
it was. She played her part well if she was aware from the start.
I honestly don't think she suspected a thing. She was way too
sweet and innocent for what was going on, and far too maternal
to turn a blind eye."


"There must have been some close calls."


"There were many, for any normal person.
To show how naive she was, or how effective her mental block was,
imagine this. It's two in the morning. I am almost fourteen. I
come in through the kitchen door walking stiff and bowlegged with
a small towel wrapped around me. Daddy is walking behind me carrying
the clothes I'd worn when I went out to the studio with him and
six men earlier that evening.


"She had just gotten up for a drink of water
and unexpectedly met us in the kitchen. She eyed me all over,
sees my hair mussed and matted with semen, cum all over my face,
trails running down my neck, and gobs of slimy white goo running
down both legs. She looks to Daddy and says, "Walter, you
shouldn't keep Bonnie up past midnight on a school night. I don't
see why photo art has to involve such long sessions, or why it
has to be so messy."


"What did she think that mess was?"


"I don't know, but Daddy told her it was
cream to protect me from the hot lights, and that the container
got dropped and splashed me. She bought this story and even helped
wipe the cream off with a wash rag."


"Didn't she notice the cream was coming from
your pussy?"


"My asshole, too? And yes, but she didn't
say anything about it. She went right to work and wiped my legs,
face, and neck. Daddy stood by watching with an amused grin. He,
in fact, suggested she check between my legs and told her that's
where most of the cream went. She nervously removed the towel
and knelt before me. Daddy reached down and took me by the right
ankle, then lifted my foot high over my head. I was doing the
sideways splits with my beaver in her face, holding onto his waist."


"Holy cow! Was he trying to get busted?"


"He wasn't trying not to. You can imagine
the obscene view she had. She saw how red, open, and swollen my
pussy was. She must have seen the red hand prints from where they'd
spanked me. I'm sure she noticed my asshole still stretched and
open. I could feel gobs of the stuff oozing from both holes. She
dabbed at my pussy, dabbed at my asshole, then made a wiping pass
along my crack. Daddy was enjoying himself, and in no hurry to
end the game. He held me in that position for a good five minutes.
Mom stayed in place and caught each new dribble as it appeared.
So, you see, Daddy didn't have much to worry about from her."


"Mom, Grandma had to know. Nobody is that
stupid."


"I don't know. I think she refused to see
what her eyes were showing her. Daddy offered an explanation,
a dumb one I'll grant you, but an explanation. I think she latched
onto his explanation like a life ring thrown to a drowning woman."


"Okay, but how did he explain the hand prints
on your ass?"


"He didn't need to. Daddy had always been
a strict disciplinarian. He'd spank me on my bare ass with his
hand, and sometimes with a belt for the most minor infractions.
Mom hated seeing him do that to me, so she'd leave the room. I
suppose she figured I'd given him some back talk during the shoot.
She knew Daddy would be a hard task master to work for."


"I guess, but I still can't see how she could
not put two and two together."


"At that time, I don't think she could have
dealt with the reality, so she didn't see any twos to add up.
She was into collecting ceramic poodle miniatures, doing needlepoint,
Camp Fire Girl fund raising, and organizing Tupperware home parties.
I don't think sex ever entered her mind, and the woman wouldn't
say the word shit if she had a mouthful."


"Yes, but the woman you know as Grandma is
not the same woman that raised me to the age of fourteen. I'm
telling you, she was living in a world of her own creation. In
her mind, we lived in Mr. Rogers' neighborhood, and she was Susie
Homemaker who lived by the glen."


"Well, that's exactly how she was. Daddy
went out of his way to make her realize what he'd been doing with
me. I could see he wanted to turn her world in-side-out, and he
found her denial amusing. While she was wiping sperm from my twat,
he said, 'It looks a lot like sperm, doesn't it?' She admitted
it did. He said, 'It tastes like sperm, too. Taste some. Go on,
it's safe. Taste it!' I watched Mom lick some from her finger.
With a face blushing red, she agreed. He then said, 'Yeah, by
the looks of things, with all that spermy stuff leaking out of
her pussy and asshole, you'd think we were out there fucking her,
huh?'


"Mom blushed a deeper red, but said, 'I thought
no such thing, and I do wish you wouldn't use those vulgar words
in front of Bonnie. She's just a child.'


"I asked Daddy about Mom's strange behavior
the following day, and he said, 'If she don't know what's going
on, she's a bigger fool than I thought. On the other hand, she
knows I won't stop, and knows better than to try and stop me.
She's going to see what she wants to see.'


"His assessment appeared correct. There were
numerous instances when she'd see me coming in late and totally
naked in the company of Dad and several men, and usually leaking
semen down my legs to my heels, making pecker tracks on her waxed
floor as I padded through on bare feet. I didn't want to believe
she knew what was happening to me but was too intimidated and
insecure to say or do anything about it. That seemed to be the
case, though."


"Mother, why didn't you just come right out
and tell her what they were doing?"


"Daddy made me promise not to ever tell a
soul."


"And you felt you had to honor a promise
to a child molester?"


"He was my dad, Jenny. You of all people
should know the position I was in."


"Yes, but I knew from the start. You only
told me about the things I missed out on. The situations between
you and me and my mother and me were totally opposite."


"Yeah, I keep forgetting she was different
back then and you weren't a pervert back then."


"Well, you are a pervert. You even admitted
it."


"I guess I did, didn't I. Well, I wasn't
a pervert back then and I was never a kid like you. I wasn't shy
about my body or posing nude for pictures, but when the posing
took a nasty turn, I thought of myself as a good girl who was
forced to do bad things with perverted men. Keep in mind, at this
point we were only two or three months into the sexual activity,
and the sessions with other men present were only a month old.
I was waiting for Mom to wake up. I figured nothing would change,
but she'd at least insist they use rubbers."


"Okay, Mom, you're right. I can see where
your head was. I still don't understand hers, though."


"I didn't either. I tried to rationalize
her behavior. I knew she was very gullible and naive, and she
knew art photography involved nude modeling and was a respectable
field. She thought Daddy's cronies were art people and photography
experts and that seeing me naked was necessary and essential.
I think she figured they thought nothing of seeing a nude child
model."


"Could you just walk around the house, naked,
with men there?"


"Not at first, but after that late night
scene in the kitchen, Daddy thought it was cool to flaunt their
activities in front of her. The men thought the game was fun,
too. The sessions would start in the house and go to the studio
only after everyone arrived. Daddy decided I should wait naked.
He'd have me stripped and sitting on the dining table before the
first man arrived.


"Mom wasn't happy about Daddy stripping me
in the house, but she remained quiet about it and even served
coffee. The men would gather around our large oval dining table
and drink coffee for thirty minutes to an hour before going out
to the studio. They would gather again for an after-shoot beer
and bull session that sometimes lasted into the early morning.
Mom joined these sessions, but she kept a low profile whenever
photo business was being prepared or discussed.


"While waiting for everyone to arrive, the
men talked photography, discussing the upcoming shoot with their
attention focused on me. I was, after all, sitting naked in the
center of the fucking table. They discovered that even if they
touched me openly in intimate areas, Mom wouldn't raise an eyebrow.
They kept pushing the limits, trying to get her to crack. Daddy
encouraged them to try and assured them that whatever her complaint
was, he could smooth things over.


"At first, they posed me in what they called
aesthetic poses, discussing my photogenic qualities. They also
discussed lighting and shadow for the upcoming shoot. They played
their roles to the hilt and used all kinds of technical lingo
that no one understood. They also used clinical terms for my female
body parts.


"I suppose, to Mom, the strange pre-shoot
warm-up routine looked proper and professional. Even when they
made me sit back and expose a spread beaver, or used their fingers
to trace shadow and highlight areas on my pussy. She might blush,
look away, go after coffee, but she never raised an objection."


Jenny made a face of disbelief and said, "Mom,
that's incredible. She watched men touching your pussy and never
said anything about that? She had to be in on it."


"No, not then she wasn't. There would be
no reason to hide. I'd be the only one she was hiding that fact
from, and she didn't need to hide from me. I was no threat to
anyone at that point. I was whipped. I totally accepted my lot
in life as a sexual plaything for a group of child molesters.
Like I said, I had no hope of ending it. I just wanted Mom to
lay down some rules, mostly to keep me from getting pregnant."


"I just knew she could if she'd just open
her eyes. Dad even said that if Mom ever flat put her foot down
their little party was over, but he also said he could talk her
out of flat putting her foot down, or get her to set it down gently.
I believed that, too, and knew she would never tolerate those
men intentionally putting their sperm in my pussy."


"She had to be suspicious by then."


"No, not even when their attentions centered
more and more on my intimate anatomy. By the way they acted, you'd
think art photography was the art of photographing a young girl's
beaver. This was typical. A guy would be toying with my clit while
Mom asked him if he cared for a warm-up for his coffee. The closest
she got to objecting was when a guy stuck his finger up my ass.
He didn't keep that finger still, either. He finger-fucked my
asshole with Mom looking on. She meekly said, 'Is that really
necessary?' Daddy said, 'That's called rectal enhancement. Probing
the rectum produces a prominence and swelling in the sphincter
muscle which results in better shadow effects, dear.' Her response
was, 'Oh.'"


Jenny said, "Oh? You've got to be kidding.
This could be a funny movie if the story were halfway believable.
I think you're jerking my chain, Mom."


"I'm not kidding. This is all true, I swear
to you. To top it off, she apologized for questioning the man's
motives. She said, 'I'm so sorry. Every time I think something
bad is going on, there turns out to be a perfectly rational explanation.
As you can tell, I know nothing about this field.'"


"Oh, that's too much, Mom. How did anyone
keep a straight face?"


"They didn't, and she was always asking,
'What's so funny?' The next time we had a session, they laid me
out on the dining table with my knees drawn up and pulled back.
I had a man holding each leg wide and pressed down on the table
top. Mom came over to see what was up and looked shocked to see
me in such a vulgar and vulnerable position. Another man stepped
up and started masturbating me, feeling my pussy all over, poking
his fingers deep inside, rubbing and pinching my clit, pulling
on my clit, in fact. At one point, he had his two middle fingers
thrust in to the palm, demonstrating to Mom that I was no virgin.
Mom stood by and watched him do this and finally asked in a concerned
voice, 'What is the purpose in doing that to her?'


"Daddy says, 'It's like the anal stimulation
technique. Massaging the vagina brings out the vaginal highlights
by stimulating blood flow. This makes the vagina blossom into
full prominence and produces the best photo effects when combined
with proper lighting. What were you thinking, Beth? Dirty thoughts
again?'


"Mom said, 'Oh, no! Absolutely not. I was
not questioning the pra
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