From: bobandcarole@aol.com   
      
   Story: Brad's Chronicles 1 (MF, Mg, MFg, inc, ws, rape, rom)   
      
      
   by bobandcarole   
      
      
       My bike jolted as I took a shortcut across the railroad tracks and   
   veered back onto the bike path.  This was a pleasant area.  Older homes and   
   apartments, some ran down but not trashy or junky.  The people were good   
   too.  The average income wasn't high but these were decent hardworking   
   people, not trash or dug dealers. I'd just moved into the city of Oakland a   
   suburb of Pittsburgh a few months before and was still getting to know the   
   area.  Nine years of nowhere jobs and night classes were finally paying   
   off. With the ink still wet on my degree I landed a job with a chemical   
   company in the old steel town.  I'd loaded my battered old Justy wagon with   
   some trepidation.  My idea of Pittsburgh was a noisy, polluted, crass sort   
   of place.  I'd been pleasantly surprised to be surprised.  The city was   
   noisy, but it was the bustle of happy people, not the clamor of trip   
   hammers.  Most of the neanderthal era steel mills were gone.  The smoky   
   stacks had been dynamited one by one.  The mills that were left were clean,   
   efficient and modern.  They'd been joined by a plethora of other high tech   
   industries. These had in turn brought in a younger, gayer crowd.  The gray   
   streets I'd imagined had taken on color and parks, museums and bike paths   
   had sprouted.  It was a whole lot like Seattle, only without the rain. The   
   bike path entered a wooded section.  I pumped harder, working up a sweat. I   
   was only a mile or so from home and could already taste the beer. I slowed   
   as I approached my neighborhood, cooling down and enjoying the fine spring   
   air.  The houses here were mainly duplexes, with the odd single family home   
   wedged between on postage stamp lots.  As a Chemical Engineer, even a newly   
   frocked one, I could have afforded better.  After years of hand to mouth   
   living though the idea of having disposable cash was attractive.  I'd   
   decided not to spend all of my money on a fancy house or upscale apartment.   
   I had no one to impress and my needs were actually quite modest.  I still   
   had that clapped out old Justy too. A block from my place a group of ragtag   
   children stood in a circle.  As I got closer I could tell a lone girl stood   
   at the center of that ring.  She was 8 maybe 9 and heavy for her age.   
   Oddly the extra weight added definition to her thighs and butt, giving them   
   a shape beyond her years.  Only a puffy face and a slight protruding belly   
   went into the negative column.  Right now quite a bit of that shape was on   
   display at least in the lower quadrant.  All of the children were in shorts   
   or swimwear and this girl was wearing a faded one piece in a flower print   
   that was at least two sizes too small.  It pulled high on her thighs and   
   left a lot of smooth white buttocks exposed.  At the moment the child's fat   
   chin was quivering as she tried to hold back her tears.  In the cruel   
   manner of children the ring was taunting her. "Fatty Patty", a toe headed   
   boy crowed. "Big butt cow!" another chimed in. "We don't want you to swim   
   with us Patricia.  We might catch sumthin'", this from a sweet looking   
   little girl of maybe 7. "She splashes all the water out anyway." "Yeah and   
   she's got boogers." "And a beer gut.  My dad says she looks like she   
   swallowed a watermelon." The target of the abuse twisted this way and that   
   to face her tormenters.  The tears glistened in her eyes but she stoically   
   held them back. The squeal of my brakes brought the festivities to a halt.   
   As one the mass of children swiveled to face me. "I think that's enough."   
   Caught by an adult the little torture circle looked abashed for a moment.   
   Then the same boy who had made the 'Fatty Patty' taunt spoke up. "We don't   
   got to listen to you." I gave him my best hard stare.  Several years of   
   life guarding for the YMCA had given me a good hard stare. "No you don't.   
   But I'm sure you're parents will when I tell them what I saw this   
   afternoon." Most of the group looked scared at that but toe head wasn't   
   willing to concede yet. "Yeah well you don't know our parents." "That's   
   true but I don't have anything to do this afternoon.  When do you have to   
   be home son?  I'll just sit right here and wait for somebody to call you to   
   supper." The boy bit his lip and looked sullen.  "I'll have my dad call the   
   police.  I'll say you were following me." "Yeah", another voice piped up,   
   "They put guys that follow kids in jail." I smiled and pulled out my   
   celphone.  "Now that's a real fine idea.  Why don't I just call the police   
   right now.  I'm sure they can find out who your parents are and that way I   
   don't have to hang around." I raised the phone and started to dial, that   
   was the last straw.  Like a dam breaking the children began to drift away   
   in ones and twos.  Toe head wasn't the first but he wasn't the last either.   
   In less than a minute me and Patricia stood alone. I looked down at the   
   chubby girl.  Damn from this close I could see that her thin, worn out   
   bathing suit was pulled tight up against her fat, bald little cunt.  The   
   material had actually crept between the plump little lips.  Her pre-teen   
   pussy was almost as plain as if she were naked.  I willed my dick down and   
   fought my gaze up to her eyes, hoping she hadn't noticed where my attention   
   had been.  "Are you ok." She was blinking rapidly, the tears so long   
   restrained began to flow. Without thought I dropped the kickstand and swung   
   off the bike.  I pulled the child into a hug, she quivered against me.   
   "There, there it's okay honey." "I'm ugly and fat," she sniffed.  "Just   
   like they said." I pushed her back and looked at her.  "You're not ugly   
   honey.  I think you're very pretty.  You are a little overweight but that   
   doesn't make you ugly." "You're just saying that." I tilted her chin up so   
   she met my gaze.  "No I'm not.  I think you're pretty and sexy." She   
   brightened immediately, "You think I'm sexy?" I smiled and kicked myself in   
   the ass.  Now why the fuck had I said that.  If you do want to get in   
   trouble in puritanical America just tell a child she's sexy.  It's the   
   Salem witch trials all over again. "Where do you live honey, I'll walk you   
   home." Nice save. Patricia bubbled on about inane kids stuff as we walked   
   the half block to her house.  At her driveway I gave her an affectionate   
   pat on the head and then rode off.  The girl rapidly dwindling in my mind   
   till she was nothing but another potential whack-off fantasy. I have plenty   
   of those, at twenty-seven I am single and not dating.  It's not that I   
   don't want feminine companionship, I do want it, badly.  I'm not ugly,   
   plain maybe but not ugly.  I'm not buff, not like the muscle hounds that do   
   all the health club commercials but I'm not out of shape either.  I bike   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)