With one hand still busy fingering the poor girl's virgin cunt, John pressed a button with the other hand to alert the commissary department of the institution that we were ready to have our dinner served.
Within seconds the door opened and a little girl about seven years old peered in, hesitating and frightened. “Ith thith the right plathe?” she lisped, her face pale and strained by being thrust into an unknown and frightening situation. “I mean, ith thith where I'm meant to bring dinner for you two gentlemen?”
“Yes, you're in the right place, little girl,” replied John curtly. “Don't just stand there shivering. Get on with whatever you've been told to do.”
The child's head disappeared for a moment and then she came back carrying two shrimp cocktails which she placed before us on the table. As she was about to leave the room, I grasped her by the arm and asked, “What's your name young lady? And what are you doing here playing waitress?”
“My name ith Thuthie, and I know that I have a lithp, so pleathe don't laugh at me about it,” she said slowly and shyly. “And I was told to bring you your dinner and do anything elthe you told me to do, no matter what.”
I glanced over to John who was enjoying my pleased amazement, while still idly playing with the pseudo-nun's cunny with one hand, an occupation which she was trying to evade by wildly writhing her hips in an effort to escape his lewd and painful attentions. I raised my eyebrows, silently questioning him as to whether it was all right to go ahead with this delightful child. He smiled and nodded his permission, so I inspected the little girl more closely to see exactly what and who I was dealing with. I still held her arm in my hand, and I slowly turned her around in a complete circle, to see all of her.
She wore a pale blue dress, with a short very bouffant skirt that stood out around her hips most daintily and cutely. It was held out from her amazingly trim little middle by layers of ruffled petticoats which seemed to cascade down from the hem of the skirt to her crotch at the very top of her chubby little legs in an unending sequence of ruffled white. The top of the dress hugged her slim unformed chest, and had a fluffy white collar around her tiny neck.
She must have been about four feet tall, with a long blonde pony-tail jutting jauntily out from the back of her head. Her face was childishly round, with big blue eyes, a small straight nose, and the most sensuous, full, pouting lips I have ever seen on a girl of any age. Even at her ultra-tender years, her mouth seemed to be asking to be kissed, so ripe did those sensitive, full lips seem. And I had visions of other duties for that mouth and those lips before I was through with her.
Below the full out-swinging skirt billowing over its sea of dainty demure white ruffles, were long rounded legs, still childishly chubby, but showing promise of turning into glamorous female limbs in ten years or less. Susie's ankles were clad in short white socks, and she wore black low-heeled patent-leather pumps with a strap across her instep. All in all she was a wholly delightful seven-year old miss, all dressed up for a party. And what a party it was going to be. She seemed frightened, but nowhere near as frightened as she would have been if she had known anything about what I had in mind doing to and with her before this memorable evening was over.
Susie's terror now increased, for she noticed the bound and exposed figure of the nun trussed against the cross, with her big breasts thrusting out through the ripped front of her garments, and John's hand toying with her bared cunt through her ripped drawers. As the child stiffened with frightened surprise, I turned her toward me and asked her, “Did they tell you anything about what you were going to do with me later?”
“No, they just told me to do whatever you said, or-or-.” She murmured solemnly.
“Or else what?” I asked.
“Or else they would beat me again, like they did last week when I first was brought here. I tried to escape, and I got the most awful beating. I thought I was going to die they hurt me so bad. All over, too.”
“Did they tell you anything I might want you to do?” I asked the child.
“They said you might tell me to get undressed, or at least take my panties off.” she said shyly. “And they said I had to do it if you told me to.”
Her scared glances kept sneaking over to where John was still finger-fucking the crucified nun, so I asked the child what she thought of that.
“It looks like he's hurting her.” she answered. “I'm glad he's not doing that to me. I wouldn't like it.”
“Maybe I'll try that with you later, Susie.” I told her. “Just to see if you'd like it. But now, while we are eating our shrimp cocktail, I want you to stand here right near me and then bend way over away from me. That way I'll be able to see and feel your cute round little bottom while you take off your panties, just like they told you.”
She hesitated for a moment at this indecent order from an adult total stranger. She looked at the older girl in the nun's habit, bound to the cross and weeping and struggling to escape the obscene handling by John, but then Susie remembered the whipping she had received for disobeying before, so she began to react as ordered.
Within easy reach of my hand as I sat at the small dining table and dunked my shrimp in the hot stimulating cocktail sauce, little Susie bent over away from me. At first she looked in this position like a perfect circle of white frills and ruffles, from the middle of which two firm pink legs projected straight down. The crisp petticoats kept her wide skirt out from her hips even when she leaned over like this, and the sea of cute ruffles extended down to a narrow band that passed between her plump thighs.
One of my hands gently caressed her upper legs and felt the firmly rounded outlines of her bottom, even as she seemed to flinch from my touch. Then I urged her on to taking off her panties, and she reached her hands up among the welter of ruffles to unfasten the waistband that held her cute little panties up. After some tugging and wiggles, the whole central section of the frilly white circle seemed to come out as she pulled down the garment while still leaving the short surrounding petticoats.
As soon as I saw how the operation worked, I told the child that I'd take over from there. Slowly to tease myself with this wildest dream come true, I pulled down her white ruffled panties till they hung about her thighs, well below her crotch. Her buttocks and ass and cunt were all starring right at me, within easy reach, and all so bare and pink and cute that I thought I was going to cry out in sheer pleasure at having a lifelong dream realized.
At first I only dared look, not wanting to touch for fear that I would wake up and find the whole evening was just a figment of my demented imagination. Framed in the crisp white frills of her starched petticoats were the delightfully round pink hills of her bottom, with the delicate groove of her ass running down the middle. In that strained pose I could even see the darker pink rosebud of her anus nestled at the bottom of the tender, soft valley. And just below was the tight slit with the fat pink lips on either side that was her childish cunt. It was partly hidden between her thighs, but I could see enough to know that it was there, and that it was mine. Susie was all mine to use in any way that pleased me.
As I gradually came to accept the reality of this bizarre and exciting situation, my hands reached out and gently caressed the soft warm flesh. I have heard men crudely describe things as being smooth as a baby's ass”. Susie was not really a baby, but I know that I have never felt anything so smooth and radiantly warm and caressable as that little bottom as my hands ran lovingly over it. After a few moments of this gentle stroking, Susie seemed to relax a little when she was subjected to no pain. But I felt her tense up with alarm when I drew a finger softly down the velvet groove between those exquisite buttocks, just barely stroking her little asshole and her cuntlips.