Mr. Double Sex Stories

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A man from Texas has been convicted of operating a website dedicated to publishing stories detailing the sexual abuse of children.
Brewster County resident Thomas Alan Arthur was convicted by a federal jury on January 21 following a trial that lasted three days.
According to trial evidence, the 64-year-old started operating a website called Mr. Double in 1996. The website was devoted to publishing writings that described the sexual abuse of children, including the rape, torture, and murder of infants and toddlers.
The website, which Arthur administered from his home, proved popular, and in 1998 he began charging a membership fee.
According to NewsWest9 , Arthur stated in an interview with the FBI that his site had over 800 subscribers who paid up to $90 a year to access content.
Arthur invited members to submit material for publication on the site in return for a discounted membership fee. All of the submitted material was reviewed and approved by Arthur personally prior to being uploaded to the website.
The evidence at trial showed that along with text, some of the author pages on the website contained drawings depicting children engaged in sexually explicit behavior.
Arthur made enough income from the Mr. Double website for it to be his sole source of income for more than 20 years.
The site remained online until November 2019, when the FBI executed a search warrant at Arthur's residence near Terlingua. Additional evidence about Arthur's illegal activities was obtained from a server in the Netherlands where the Mr. Double site was hosted.
The FBI said that the site contained several disclaimers stating that none of the stories were based on real events. However, among the site's subscribers were a significant number of people with prior convictions for child sexual abuse and possession of child sexual abuse material.
Arthur was found guilty of three counts of trafficking in obscene visual representations of the sexual abuse of a child, five counts of trafficking in obscene text stories about the sexual abuse of children, and one count of engaging in the business of selling obscene matters involving the sexual abuse of children.
Sentencing is scheduled for April 19, 2021.

Alphabetical Order by Title with Author Name
For multi-part stories, link points to first part. Number of parts is in parentheses.
Please report any problems to
Crystal

People often ask me why I spell my name with two x's in it. There are a
number of reasons. I like to distinguish myself from the crowd of other
Alex's out there in the world. (This is of limited use, as there are
other "Alexx"s, as it turns out...) I used to use a variety of other
'handles', such as "xandrk" and "xela yak", but have used "Alexx" pretty
exclusively Since the early 1990's. It's easy to sign my name like that
without it appearing obvious (and objectionable) to a bank. Also, the
extra x nicely signifies that I'm, shall we say, a bit beyond the norm,
while still not being at the level of triple-x :-) For those who like
triple-x, here is my list of favorite smut sites:

Content Note: Rape, pedophilia, incest.

This is essentially Ender's Game fanfiction.]

A herd of launchies shuffled through the doors of their new living quarters, and though Petra was among them, she did not shuffle with them. Instead she strode, her steps falling confidently on the smooth concrete, and immediately sought out a top bunk at the back of the room. As the last of the launchies trickled in, the room spun into a blur of aggression and shouting, and Petra matched the fury and passion of the others until she ended up on the lower bunk in the back left corner. It wasn’t what she wanted, but it would do. At least, she considered, Petra would have the corner mostly to herself. For a moment, Petra’s chest continued to throb with confidence, and she felt the dangerous pride she wore over her features sink fragile, probing roots into the surface of her body. She closed her eyes, smiled, rested her head back on her pillow and let her arms drape languidly over the top of her skull.

Then she heard again the angry shouts of the others, felt the fluorescent light glare through her eyelids, and in the overwhelming harshness, anxiety seized her. She felt it in the hollow within her chest, felt it grasp at her throat and tighten until her breath came in short, desperate gasps. She lost track of time, of everything, and curled tightly in on herself, burrowing into the skimpy army-issue blankets and trying to focus on the pain coursing through her scalp as her small, shaking fingers tugged at tiny black coils.

Slowly, it ebbed. Petra felt air enter her lungs again, and shuddered into a dreamless sleep.

She was woken what must have been just a moment later, though now the room was dark. Anguished wails pierced the air, and tears caught the light through the open doors of the bunk room and glittered it back at a figure who stood walking among the rows of now-crying children like a god. Petra watched with wide eyes, her skin still tight from tears, as the figure moved from child to child and, with a touch, brought forth a flow of such terrible emotion that Petra found panic clutching at her chest again. She pushed back against the mattress and into the wall, and waited for the man to come to her. It took just a minute for thick fingers to reach down into Petra’s bunk. They groped for a moment in the darkness, then found her, brushed her bushy hair. Petra went still, tense, like a frightened animal. She pressed herself into the wall with more force, shivered, and closed her eyes. A sob escaped her throat, and then she found herself in a storm of memory and emotion.

It was… blurry. Dark. It moved too fast to understand, but Petra felt it. She knew, she remembered. Petra recognized the hot breath on her neck and the pain on her skin, in her heart, inside her where she felt violated and infinitely repulsive, like she would never be clean again. She recognized the words that fell on her like bricks, though they came in such soothing tones, such praising rumbles… she felt the confusion of the moment and heard those words come again to catch her in-between wishes.

“You’re such a good girl… such a pretty girl… don’t you make a sound, that’s good… daddy’s little girl, you’re so good for me…”

She caught her breath in her throat and held it there until her face felt hot and her head felt light, until the pain brought her back. She clutched at the pillow now soaked from her crying and whispered for her mommy, her daddy, whispered to make them come back and go away at the same time, whispered that she didn’t want to be a little girl anymore, that she wouldn’t be anybody’s little girl, that she would be daddy’s little girl if only he would come and get her away from here, come and be her dad again, and soothe her with his heartbeat. She sobbed, choked, sobbed again, and rocked herself into silence and pain and desperate wishes.

Finally, she was still, her heart cold and heavy with a new, rebellious resolve.

She was away from that horrible memory, that horrible place, and now she would be someone new. She would be nobody’s little girl anymore. She would dare the others to touch her, and she would destroy anyone who did. She would be no little girl, and she would show no fear.
Like ( 2 ) 3 Great Nicely done Inspired Like ( 2 )
Vrs1 :
Pedophilia,
Damned source of erotica.
Nightmare for the children of god.
Tainted dreams haunt them in mass.

I will watch over you from above.

Chrs:
I will lure you,
I will please you,
I will make you my friend.
I will hurt you.
I will rip you.
I will molest your corpse.
I will cut you.
I will burn you.
I will make you my slave.

Vrs 2:
Necrophilic,
My pleasures twisted and sick.
Nausea for all displeased.
Inhumanity rules my brain.

I will record the day you die.

Chrs:
I will tie you.
I will break you.
I will make you fade away.
I will hang you.
I will carve you.
I will make you bleed away.
I will dig you.
I will mark you.
I will make you disappear.

Vrs 3:
Recreation,
Hell bent on blood fixation.
I’m a wolf, hungry for more.
Bring me the lambs to harvest for my will.

I will bury your body and hunt for more.

Chrs:
I will lure you,
I will please you,
I will make you my friend.
I will hurt you.
I will rip you.
I will molest your corpse.
I will cut you.
I will burn you.
I will make you my slave.
Just a simple song I wrote. © 5 years ago , Mitch Wilson  pedophilia • rape • murder • metal-music • song-lyrics
Like ( 2 ) 2 Lovely Inspired me! Clever work Like ( 2 )
Did you know then that you were changing my whole life with your actions? Were you unaware of exactly how much you would be ruining, or were you just so consumed by your lust and perversion that you were willing to rip me apart and shred any hope of a happy future? How could you have taken in a young child, gained her trust, made her like one of your own - and then steal her innocence before she even knew what it was you were taking from her?

These are the questions that have plagued me ever since I let my walls down enough to remember. I wish I would have never remembered...but at the same time, I know that this would have done little, if any, good. Even before I had the pleasure of dark memories, the consequences of your actions were already there. I acted and felt according to what you had done to me, without even allowing myself to realize what it was. And when the memories did finally come back - starting as a trickle and then becoming a full flood of flashbacks, nightmares and panic attacks that still haunt me on occasion - it was a missing puzzle piece, a way to finally explain why I am the way that I am.

You took more than my innocence, you must realize that. You took away my trust, my self-esteem. I considered you a father to me, someone to replace the father who had died six years before your abuse began. You took me to daddy daughter dances, taught me to roller skate and opened up your house to me to become my home away from home. Your daughter was like my sister, and I even had fantasies of marrying your sons to one day be a "true" member of your family. Now I can't look at a single member of your family without shuddering. Your eldest looks just like you...and because of that, I tremble with fear every time I see him.

I'm not the only one who feels the consequences of your actions. A family who tried so hard to encourage and support me were forced to watch me suffer. I had to be rushed to the hospital at least half a dozen times after suicide attempts. My parents bandaged my arms and washed my bloody clothing after I would cut myself because I felt so dirty and used from what you did. My brother tended to my wrist after I cut too deep. My sisters watched as I had to hide the cuts, both the fresh and the scars alike, from my littlest sister with long sleeves and gloves that went up past the elbow.

The man that I call mine is affected by your actions as well. In our most intimate moments, I think of you and cringe, turning away from him as if he were you. At times, his touch frightens me, no matter how gentle it is, because I think of you and how you would touch me. He is understanding, and has only ever treated me with affection and encouragement. But I see the pain in his eyes when I push him away as the flashback comes, and he is unable to even comfort me because a single touch or word from him brings forth a panic attack from me. He is the one who holds me and wipes my tears as I cling to him in bed, feeling the guilt of my childhood as if it were happening all over again. I am not emotionally healthy, because of you, and so our relationship is not healthy, because of you. This man has asked me to marry him, and will spend his entire life attempting to undo the damage you have done to me.

I was a child! I was nine years old when you first began to derive pleasure from the lewd actions you forced upon me. You fed me lies, scaring me into obedience with the claims that God would punish me if I did not obey. You gave me a warped view of love as you repeated over and over again, "This is love," as you would take my small hand and force it to stroke you. You told me that God would destroy my family and send them all to hell if I were to tell them, or anyone else. How could you bear to live with yourself afterwords?!

My one condolence is that you didn't live long enough to hurt me any longer than the two years in which you did. Your life was taken, and I was never hurt by you again...

Except that I was. I was hurt by you every day, every morning, every night of my life. Through nightmares, you continued to hurt me. I felt your hands on me instead of those of my future husband when we were intimate, and it hurt me. Every time I look in the mirror, I see a used, broken child, dirty from all that you did. I am still unable to be free from you, and so I live my life in fear and depression.

You destroyed me.
I wasn't going to write this, or even come back to this site...but I had to let this out and immediately remembered SW. This is all pure emotions, pretty much an overflow of sensations, feelings and problems that have been plaguing me for some time now. I may not be as attentive to spelling, grammar or those types of things as I usually am. I will not be editing this later to fix any errors I make due to my emotions, since I prefer keeping it as is - raw and passionate. © 8 years ago , Amber Anderson  personal • dark • true • abuse • molestation • rape • pedophilia • emotional • misc2
Like ( 4 ) 3 Inspired Amazing Liked it Like ( 4 )
Vrs1 :
Pedophilia,
Damned source of erotica.
Nightmare for the children of god.
Tainted dreams haunt them in mass.

I will watch over you from above.

Chrs:
I will lure you,
I will please you,
I will make you my friend.
I will hurt you.
I will rip you.
I will molest your corpse.
I will cut you.
I will burn you.
I will make you my slave.

Vrs 2:
Necrophilic,
My pleasures twisted and sick.
Nausea for all displeased.
Inhumanity rules my brain.

I will record the day you die.

Chrs:
I will tie you.
I will break you.
I will make you fade away.
I will hang you.
I will carve you.
I will make you bleed away.
I will dig you.
I will mark you.
I will make you disappear.

Vrs 3:
Recreation,
Hell bent on blood fixation.
I’m a wolf, hungry for more.
Bring me the lambs to harvest for my will.

I will bury your body and hunt for more.

Chrs:
I will lure you,
I will please you,
I will make you my friend.
I will hurt you.
I will rip you.
I will molest your corpse.
I will cut you.
I will burn you.
I will make you my slave.
Just a simple song I wrote. © 5 years ago , Mitch Wilson  pedophilia • rape • murder • metal-music • song-lyrics
Like ( 2 ) 2 Lovely Inspired me! Clever work Like ( 2 )
She was she, and I was I. Two souls destined to meet, or so I thought at least.

She was 7, a delectable age for a person like me, I use the word person lightly, I am nothing but a sadistic beast, in my mind, in the minds of others I am but a gentle old man. If only they were to look into my mind, beneath my sparkling, clear grey eyes they would see what I really am. My tale is what the police forced me write, not a letter of apology, but a full account with my sexual encounter with little Destiny..

It all began at the start of the school year, my house is near the local primary school, and that to me is a prime spot for my little perversions, ah to see the Lolitas everyday is wonderful, short skirts, tight polo shirts stretched across their little growing buds that they sadly would be calling breasts one day, the knee high socks wrapped around their thin, nobbly knees. Hiding little scratches and scabs I yearn to lick and chew off, swallow it like a world class meal.

I sit at my window at the start of each day, my now withered penis in my hand, a box of man-sized tissues next to me, masturbating so hard it causes friction burns on the bad days, the days when all the little lolitas frolick and play outside. Lunch-times are the best for me, to see their skirts fly up as they play out in the sun, playing netball and softball, basketball sometimes too. Ah such simple bliss.

I was content with this.. I knew that I wouldn't be for very long but I tried hard to focus on the here and now, and focus on the good things with staying far away but being near.

And so, it started. The day Destiny came into my life. Fresh out of Preschool, she arrived on the scene, blowing all the other Lolitas out of the water. Her long, silky black hair flowing down her back, down to her taut little arse. How I longed to lick that little arse out, to taste her, and to indulge in the beauty that is Lolitas. She was energetic, that much I could see, how she ran and played with her older sister, her sister I had no interest in, she was, to be quite frank, the ugliest little girl I've ever seen. Squashed in p
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