Chapter 2
The youngster's long blonde hair flew as she darted her head in surprise. She instinctively drew her legs together and a frightened shudder went through her body. Her pretty eyes, naturally rather large, now seemed enormous. The man's hand remained on his bursting crotch and he leered down at her, waiting for an answer to his evilly insinuating question.
Could it be that he might actually unzip his fly and bring out his-no, it was too awful to think about. If he did it, she'd simply die from embarrassment!
"Wha-what are you doing?" she managed to utter, her voice trembling. "You ... you can't ... you shouldn't-"
But Herman cut her short. "Just get out of here, you little slut," he said with loathing. "Just take your little ass out of that chair and go back out there where your mother's waiting."
She hurriedly hopped to the floor and started for the door, but before her hand touched the knob he grabbed her shoulder firmly from behind and brought her to an abrupt halt.
"Go on, I've got all the information I need to process your case," he said threateningly, "but you better not get any wise ideas of your own about our little interview-understand? If anything seemed ... seemed funny to you about the way I talked to you, you just keep it to yourself! A kid your age doesn't know how these things have to be done, how personal it's necessary to get in these matters."
The firm flesh of her shoulder seemed to burn through her thin blouse as though from fever, but he forced himself to remove his trembling hand. She looked back at him fearfully, shook her head enthusiastically to assure her compliance with his order, then scurried unsteadily out the door.
Afterward Herman walked around the desk and sank heavily into his chair. He spun it around and scooted it to the water cooler, filled a paper cup to overflowing and downed it. Then a second, and a third. It unnerved him that he seemed to have so little control of his body. His hand quaked as he drank the water, causing him to slop some onto the front of his pants. He scowled down at the still quite obvious lump that strained upward from underneath the confining material of his crotch.
His big erection hadn't subsided at all and was an unavoidable reminder of how close he had come to losing control. Herman always had relished the fact that his position allowed him to discuss such intimate matters with the welfare recipients who wound up in his office. And after months and months of conducting the interviews, he no longer tried to pretend to himself that he didn't love every minute of it. But now he was forced to face the fact that he was letting himself get too physically involved.
There was no doubt about it. He had come damned close to ripping that fly open and plopping everything he had right out in front of the kid's face. And he still shivered at the thought of how her shoulder had felt, so warm and desirable, under the thin blouse. He thanked his stars that he had been able to direct her on out the door instead of tearing it off and going for that darling pair of tits out-lined beneath. He wiped sweat from his forehead.
With his cock still pounding, he thought again of what a cute, delectable little tease she had been. Looking up her dress, even though he never even began to see the crotch of her panties or the tender flesh of her uppermost inner thighs, he had still been almost overcome by the all too insufficient view he was able to obtain. Those sweet little knees of hers....
Herman's mind skipped back over girls he had interviewed in previous months. It wasn't only the young ones, of course, who got involved in incest. Some were fully grown women and a few had been damn near as old as he was-women screwing around with a grown brother behind their husband's back or maybe a first cousin they hadn't seen for a while. But you had to be careful with your mouth with the girls if they were old enough not to be intimidated. Herman wasn't dumb, just daring.
He loved having a woman tell him just the details his paperwork called for. It was nice to get some busty babe in the chair and think about how great it must have been to have her wet and naked around your hard cock. Just thinking about it without even getting to have them elaborate was usually enough to make his cock stiff plenty fast.
But the young ones, they were the ones you could really lord it over. Most of them were scared to death of even having to talk about it, especially with a man. And few, even the older teenagers, quite possessed the guts to challenge him on anything. At their age, they weren't certain enough of exactly what they might properly be expected to answer and what was simply a result of the man's unwarranted curiosity about their sexy secrets.
Once in a while there would be some smart-ass little chick he was afraid to go too far with. But as the months progressed Herman had become proficient in overcoming the resistance of even the most confident of them ... one like the little blonde who had just left the office, for example.
If they were young enough, of course, he didn't have to worry at all. It wasn't at all infrequent that a kid of only four or five would be brought into his office. Anything they said, he knew, would simply be dismissed by their mothers as more or less expected hysteria. But then, unfortunately, the ones that young weren't big enough to attract the full force of his depraved interest. They wouldn't even have the least bit of pussy hair, let alone tits, for years, although they were cute as a bug's ear.
Not that Herman lacked all interest in the preschoolers-far from it. They didn't have to have nice tits and long legs in order to arouse him. Given half a chance he would have delighted in slipping down the panties and fingering the hairless twat of even the youngest. But it was the somewhat older girls he most lusted after, the ones with smooth slim legs and maybe a little fuzz on their pussies, the ones who at least had a start on getting to be a woman. They were his favorite little honies.
The kids that were old enough to be sexy-whether they knew it or not-and who were still young enough for him to be able to wield his adult authority over them ... those were the kids that most quickly stiffened his cock and made him drool at the thought of getting into their underwear and getting his hands or mouth on them. He could never get enough of that kind. Herman shuffled papers on his desk and forced himself to think of other things. His prick was still pulsing to beat the band and he knew he wouldn't have any rest until he got his mind off sex.
He certainly wouldn't get any real relief, that was for sure. Not the kind he needed. What his cock craved was to spew out its load and gain its satisfaction. Once a certain little black-eyed coquette had made him so hot during the bare few minutes of their interview that he had been forced to run to the men's room and masturbate. But he had taken care never to do it again afterward because it made it impossible to concentrate on paperwork for the rest of the day.
Several times however he had become so horny from the intimate words or accidentally exposed legs or tits of some sweet young thing that he had surreptitiously manipulated his organ through his pants. At those times, he had been sorely tempted to slyly unzip himself and let the naked meat of his cock out where he could touch it with his bare fingers-yet today he had almost done even worse. He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead and thought with dulled panic how close he had come to showing off his prick to the kid who had just left.
If only, he thought to himself, he could manage to get one of those little nymphets alone somewhere away from his office where he could-but the phone rang, interrupting his daydream.
It was his secretary, reminding him it was time for the next interview of the day. He glanced at his worksheet and saw that, mercifully, the next interview would also be his last of the day. In one way of course, he never tired of the practical reasons, he was sometimes glad when it stopped at the end of the day-a man can only take so much excitement and then something has to give.
He heard the voice of a woman outside of his door. She was speaking in comforting tones to an obviously quite youthful child. Herman glanced at the worksheet and saw that the scheduled interviewee was indeed a youngster-a seven-year-old. The door opened and in she came, hair barely combed and dressed poorly. She was a pretty child, straight dark hair to her shoulders and fragile features.
Herman got into his act quickly and within minutes the poor little thing was blanching at the sound of words that shocked her even more than what she sometimes heard through her parents bedroom door.
It was the child's older brother who had forced himself upon her in this case, a twentyyear-old home on leave from the Marines. He had not penetrated the child's young organs, but had definitely manipulated her inside her panties and had displayed his man-size cock in front of her innocent eyes before being interrupted. All this Herman knew from the report on his desk, but his questions had already departed from the facts of the incident and were now stemming entirely from his own personal lust for the child.
"That the only time you ever saw a boy with his clothes off?" he asked. She had just told him of a chance observation at a local swimming pool when a young boy's swimsuit had come off.
"Uh huh," she nodded in shy affirmation.
"How about girls, though," he continued, "didn't you ever see them that way? You know, with their dress up or maybe going to bed or something?"
"Sure," she admitted, "lots of times." The youngster was very puzzled at the direction of the of the conversation since the part about her brother had only taken a couple of minutes and was apparently finished. But her mother had told her the man would be asking her things that might be a little funny and that she shouldn't fail to cooper ate with him. But gee, what a strange question. Well, she'd answer it anyway, no matter how silly it seemed, and be a good girl.
"I do those thing," she hesitantly ventured, "go to bed and take my clothes off and put them on all the time. You know, getting ready for school and stuff. So I see me naked ... is-is that what you mean? Or do you...."
Herman was both amused and a little aroused that the kid had thought he was referring simply to her. He had meant other girls, older girls, much older, perhaps ... like maybe the girl's mother or one of her friends or something. The kid was plenty sexy for her age but he was interested in what she could tell him about other girls more than what she could tell him about her own meager seven-year-old body. He smiled.
"Sure, honey," he said, "I know you see yourself naked. I didn't mean that. I'm talking about others. Haven't you ever seen any other girls naked?"
She kept looking at him, more puzzled now than ever, not yet sure how to answer.
"You know," he coached, "someone like ... I don't know, your mom, maybe or some of your friends. How about your mom-ever see her without her clothes?"
Now the child was scandalized. Her mother? Of course she never saw Mom naked! That would be awful. Dirty and ... nasty ... just awful. She hated to think about it and about what would have befallen her if such a thing had ever happened.
"Oh, no!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide and her little face flushed with shame at the very idea.
"No, I've never seen her that way."
Herman was disappointed that he wouldn't be able to get her to talk about what her mom looked like naked because by the looks of her daughter, the kid's mother stood a damn good chance of being a real knock-out. He visualized a twenty-five-year-old version of the little girl in front of him-nice fat jugs and a shapely big ass, a nice hairy cunt and the knowledge of what to do with it.
But that was out. The kid must have seen somebody naked though, from the way she answered his question. Who might it have been? He was getting a little desperate to have her talk about someone she'd seen so he could get a big stiff from it.
He pursued the point and the kid responded, finally, to his expectations.
"Oh," she told him, "sure, lots of 'em. Girls at school. Is that what you mean? The kids in my grade use the same restroom as all the other girls in school. I see them, but it's just whenever I need to go there myself or-"
"How about at home?" he broke in, "don't you ever have any little friends stay overnight at your house?"
When she said no, he was disappointed. He knew her family was poor and guessed that she probably had only one bed in her room, if indeed she had a separate room. It would require that any of her overnight guests sleep in the same bed with her, and he would have dearly loved to hear how the young darlings got ready for bed, what they wore under the covers, and if they ever played around any after the lights were out. But apparently that never happened. He would have to settle for what she saw in the school restroom.
"What is it you see the other kids do at school, then," he continued, "in the girls' restroom? How could you see them naked there-a girl doesn't take off her clothes just to wash her hands and face or use the John, does she?"
She didn't know what a John was, since she didn't call it that, and he had to explain. Then he was in for some sexy revelations.
"Oh, the place where you ... where you pee?" she said, balking a little at using the word in front of him. "That's where I see girls naked, all right. They don't have to take off all their clothes, but heck, when a girl lifts her skirt and slides down her panties then she might as well be naked. None of us are big enough to wear stockings or ... you know, garter belts or any of that stuff. So when the panties and skirts are out of the way, there's nothing left to keep anyone from seeing the ... uh ... the place she pees."
Now Herman was excited again. The first girl he had interviewed that afternoon was the one who put his mind onto the subject of a girl pissing, and what it would be like to see one doing it. Now that the subject again presented itself, he wasn't going to let it pass without taking advantage of the opportunity to excite himself by it.
"What do you call that little place," he asked, "where a girl pees, anyway?"
The child thought it was awfully curious for him to be talking this way, but she had to be a good girl and do what Mommy had told her. She had to be nice and answer any questions the man might ask her, no matter what they were.
"Oh, I don't know," she said, her cute little face open and innocent. "Just a ... just a pee-pee, I guess."
"A 'pee-pee,' huh? That what you call yours?" he asked, his voice becoming thick.
She shifted in her chair and crossed her legs uncomfortably. She felt awfully funny talking about things this personal. "Uh huh," she mumbled, nodding her head.
"And what does it look like when you see a girl at school using her 'pee-pee' in the restroom?" he asked.
She was flustered. Even at her scant seven years of age, intuition told her he had something on his mind besides the actual questions he was asking her. And they were bad enough!
"Just ... I don't know, they all do it the same way," she replied. "They just sit down and move their panties down their legs, then hold their skirts in their hands so they won't touch the floor and ... and just ... you know, just let it go ... just start peeing. Then they wipe off with toilet paper and they're through."
Herman's mind was filled with thoughts of young girls of various ages and appearances, their panties around their knees and their skirts lifted delicately out of the way as they pissed. He pictured the kid he was interviewing as being among them, her undoubtedly hairless little twat emitting a tinkling stream from between her youthfully firm, pretty little thighs. It made his cock perk up and start swelling inside his undershorts.
"That the way you do it?" he asked, once more turning her words from general observation to personal experience, eager for her answer.
"Well, gee, yes ... I guess so," she said. She wondered if it made him think of her doing it to hear her talk about it. She hoped not. It even embarrassed her if she thought another girl was viewing her in the act.
"And you wipe off when you're through?" he continued, his cock growing with every question.
"Sure," she told him. Was he crazy or something? Did he think she might pee and then not wipe herself afterward? Jeepers, only some dirty little girl who didn't care about keeping her panties nice and fresh and dry would do a silly thing like that!
"But you don't have any hair down there yet, do you?" he asked, startling her with his boldness. "How come you wipe it off if you don't have any hair to stay damp from whatever few little drops might get on you?"
Now her face was turning crimson. At first she had been too innocent to be bothered by his questions even though she didn't understand the reason for them. But now even she could sense something behind his words.
"I ... no, I don't have any ... any hairs there yet," she admitted, "but heck, even a girl too young to have any can still get awfully damp from the leftover pee between her legs. Wiping yourself is the only way you can stay clean and ... you know, nice and fresh and dry and sweet there."
Nice and fresh and dry and sweet, indeed! That's exactly how Herman thought her cute little seven-year-old cunt would be, even though he knew she had been referring to the condition of her panties. She had probably picked up those particular words from some advertisement for laundry soap. The mild kind that promoted itself as being perfect for washing females' undies. But to hell with the undies themselves-what he wanted to do was to hear the kid talk about what was underneath those panties ... her own as well as the panties of other kids she'd seen. Jesus, if he could only get a look inside that restroom she was talking about and see all that young fresh meat and maybe get a clear view of one of those sweet young things letting a golden stream of piss out from between the lovely lips of her pretty little pussy!
"How about some of those older girls?" he asked. "I bet some of them have hair there, don't they?"
"A few of the fifth graders do," she said, "but it's mostly just sort of ... unh ... you know, just sort of fuzz-not really hairs yet. But the sixth graders, some of them have a lot. Long hairs just like a big woman has."
"They do, do they?" he responded. "I thought they would. I bet they've got something else too, some of those sixth graders. Something up here, huh?"
He made a motion at the level of his chest, cupping his hands to indicate breasts.
The child was mortified. She felt nasty from talking like she had been forced to talk. Now he was making it worse. Even though she lacked pubic hair, she still had no worry of the fact being known or commented upon by anyone-the hairless buds of her small cunt were both hidden beneath the cotton fabric of her panties. But with breasts, it was different. Anyone could tell right away much she lacked in that department. Of course, none of the other girls her age had breasts either, but that didn't keep her from wanting them. Like most girls so young, she could hardly wait 'til she grew up and sported the two firm symbols of womanhood under her blouse and encased by the all-important bra.
"Yes, quite a few of the older girls have 'em," she dutifully replied. "But none of them have very big ones."
Herman was amused by her last statement. It indicated to him her concern over the fact that her own chest was flat and bare as a board, and that she felt obliged to play down the mammary development of the older girls.
"They're old enough to have boyfriends then," he said. "Do any of their mothers ever let them go on dates yet? Do they ever talk about what they do on them?"
She started to answer, but just then Herman glanced up and noticed the clock on the wall. Damn-five minutes til! five! How had the time passed so fast? He stopped her and told her to come to his desk. He got off at five, and the offices all closed-there was no way he could keep the kid there after that time without incurring the unwelcome curiosity-or worse-of the mother. And she, like all the parents always did, was waiting right outside in the lobby. He made a quick and bold decision to use up the few remaining minutes with a little real action.
"No, honey," he corrected, as she stopped in front of his desk, "around here. It's almost time for you to go and I have to check you over where your brother-"
"You ... you have to look there?" she interrupted, her eyes big and frantic. "But the doctor already did that. The doctor over in the other building already did that!"
Herman knew she had already been examined by the health department physician. It was routine to do so with any victim of rape or molestation. But he also knew that this particular child was young enough and naive enough let him get in a few good feels without raising a big stink about it. At least he hoped to hell she was-he had already decided to take the plunge.
"I know he has, honey," he blandly informed her, "but that's just for his records. I need to check you over myself for my records. Now just step around here by my chair ... right around here by the side of it, that's the way ... right here where I can reach you."
She moved shyly toward him. She had already told him about what her big brother had done to her. Why did he have to see? Oh well, she thought, her shoulders slumping, she guessed she would have to do it.
"That's it," he approved, his voice gravelly, "now stand still while I raise your dress ... there that's the way. As soon as this part's over, you can go."
Very gently, in a mock-professional manner, Herman raised the child's hem. Her lovely young thighs presented themselves, and finally the well-filled crotch of her underpants. They were white cotton, the cheap kind, with the elastic broken at the top, he noted as he raised the dress to her navel. A big safety pin had been used to hold them up. The kid might not be old enough to have any hair on her pussy, but from the looks of that nice plump little bulge under the crotch of her panties, she must have a nice-sized and well-developed pair of cunt lips. He'd soon see!
He just had two or three minutes to go before the clock hit five o'clock. He instructed her to hold the hem of her skirt up while he "examined" her. When she took it, he said, "No, higher. There, that's right."
He purposely had her hold it in front of her face. It wasn't to keep her from seeing what he did to her private little parts she'd be able to feel that soon enough. It was to keep her from seeing the undisguised lust in his face. He didn't think he could maintain a professionally cool expression on his face with his eyes on the cute little kiddy-cunt he was about to uncover.
He slid the white cotton undergarment down, purposely allowing the back of his forefinger to brush past her incredibly smooth skin. She flinched only slightly. He pulled them all the way to her knees, at last laying bare the child's prepubescent organs.
Jesus, he thought to himself, would I like to bury my face between her legs! What a sweet little twat she's got!
But he restrained himself, difficult as it was. "So right here's where your brother touched you, huh?" he commented, placing his trembling thumb and forefinger to the soft twin folds of her skin. The two little mounds of flesh were smooth as powder and utterly without hair.
"Uh huh," she acknowledged, her voice barely audible. She was so embarrassed she could cry.
"Um hum," he mumbled, trying to keep the excitement from his voice, "this looks okay here." Okay, shit-it looked so goddamned good to him he wanted to get down on his knees and lick it for her like a cat lapping up milk!
"How's it feel right here though, honey?" he posed, inserting the tip of his finger between the tight flesh of her slit. "Does it feel different than it used to?"
"Yes-I mean no," she babbled, her words nervously confused. "It doesn't hurt, if ... that's what you mean."
Herman knew very well it wasn't hurting her. In fact it was probably feeling quite nice to her if she'd only admit it. He wiggled it gently forward and with the tip of his thumb, lightly grazed the tiny bud of her small clit.
The youngster gave an involuntary shudder. The effect made Herman want to get his cock out of his pants, but he dared not do it. He caressed her clit again gently.
"That ... that doesn't hurt either," she said, speaking very quickly and unevenly. "Can I go now? I'm okay. Really I am! Nothing you've done to me down there has hurt any."
Herman suspected the real reason she wanted to go was that she had discovered how nice it was to have a person touch her pussy, and afraid of the unfamiliar feelings being aroused.
But damn it, it was now five o'clock! He absolutely had to let her go now, he knew. Many of his co-workers customarily sneaked out a few minutes before five, and here he was staying right up 'til the wire.
He bestowed one last, feverish caress on the child's trimly pouting little pussy, then reluctantly pulled her panties back up and told her to drop her dress.
"Okay, that'll be all," he told her. "You can go now. Be a good girl and tell your mother she doesn't have to bring you back here anymore."
Assuring him that she would, she walked quickly out the door.
He wiped the dampness from his brow and exhaled. If there had been any possible excuse for having the youngster return to his office he would have engineered it. There simply wasn't one.
He was in no mood to cheerily head for his car like most of the others. His cock was stiff as a board and quaking like crazy. He sheepishly admitted he was going to have repair to the men's room and relieve himself before he did another goddamn thing. But when he got there, a janitor was industriously cleaning the place and he was afraid of being discovered if he tried to jerk himself off.
He drove home in a huff, tense and stiff-cocked all the way. He'd head for the bathroom at home when he arrived. He'd just jack himself off there. His wife had both the kids with her because today was Friday and she always took them with her to help carry groceries.
But when Herman parked his car and dashed inside toward the bathroom, he got only as far as the door before it jerked shut before his astounded eyes.
"Daddy!" cried his daughter Francine. "Please-I'm in here!"