Date: Tue, 12 Jul 2011 13:05:15 -0600
From: applesandpears@hushmail.com
Subject: A Little Revolution 6: The Hound

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Editor's Note: Naturally, this is all fiction, don't take it seriously,
don't fuck your kids, etc., or anyone else`s. We don't live in this
world. If you have a hard time telling fantasy from reality, seek
professional help.

CHAPTER SIX-THE HOUND

The deep rumble of the supercharged V6 engine turned heads even at
idle. 333 brake horsepower was hard to tame for the narrow medieval streets
of the Old Port, but the Hound knew how to hold in the reigns. Slowly he
rolled north, away from the gentrified heart of the city, as the streets
grew dirtier, more profaned with graffiti, more pocked with dusty empty
storefronts. The old buildings gave way to an occasional brutalist cement
structure from the 70's, ugly and scarred and black with mold. A woman in a
headscarf looked up from the sidewalk and pulled her two young children
close to her. "Smart woman", the Hound thought.

The girl fiddled with the radio, so finally he slapped her little hand away
as the tuner came to rest on a station blaring loud American hip-hop. She
looked at him with her pouty well-glossed lips and crossed her arms. He
reached out and placed one of his massive hands on her skinny brown
knee. The rolling rumble of the engine echoed across the cement and heads
turned towards the sleek red convertible Audi, with the huge, cartoonishly
muscled dark man behind the wheel, his black hair shaved to the quick, his
eyes hidden behind dark glasses, his massive arm muscles bulging as they
rested along the frame of the door. He knew how he looked, and he knew how
the wisp of a girl next to him looked, all of eleven but dressed like she
was twenty, horny, and out on a Saturday night.

"Sit up" he told the slouching girl, so she could be seen better from the
street. With her long died-blond hair, her full cocksucker mouth, her slim
copper body sheathed in a tight cotton rib tank top, she was the perfect
bait for the randy boys of Marseille, but while many of the youths, bored
on a hot Sunday summer afternoon, gave her the neck twist and hard scope,
none of the young cocks dared show her the usual whistles and crotch-grabs
of disrespect that passed for courting in this neighborhood; not given the
gorilla beside her, his shiny tight shirt unbuttoned halfway down to reveal
a steroid-muscled chest carved in stone. The hound sent teenage boys
running with just a glance, which was fine. He wasn't on the prowl for some
big-dicked sixteen-year-old well-developed thug, no matter how much he
himself enjoyed teaching such toughs what a real man was like. This
afternoon the Boss was looking for something fresher and sweeter.

He found what he was looking for in a shabby cement square behind a
graffiti-scarred metro stop. Sitting on a couple of cement parking pylons
in front of a closed supermarket were two bored, sweaty, but cute
soft-cheeked lads of just the type he had been tasked to find. The one on
the right was a white boy, a standout in this part of Marseille, with the
broad face of a slav, his straw-colored hair cropped close on the sides but
with long bangs that fell in his eyes. He was wearing a large hoody despite
the heat, over a loud cotton tee and a pair of long basketball shorts, his
feet swallowed up in bulky trainers. His buddy had the light eyes and
copper skin that marked him as the offspring of a North African coupling
with a European. The boy had short curly black hair and a cute round face
with thick dark red lips that flashed straight white teeth when he
smiled. He wore a plain black "wife beater" vest that showed off the
excellent muscle tone of his arms and chest over a pair of baggy faded
jeans that had seen better days. They were both maybe eleven, twelve on a
good day, with the slim hard bodies of boys who had started puberty but had
a long way to go. They were perfect.

The Hound pulled the long red convertible into a narrow parking spot across
the square, nodded his huge head towards the boys, and gave the girl a
lecherous smile. She stuck her tongue out at him and climbed from the car,
pulling down the short ass-hugging spandex-blend black skirt she wore over
her narrow child's hips. It only took her about five minutes to work her
charms. The girl was well trained, and soon she was crossing the square
with an exaggerated swagger in her hips as the two boys followed her, the
white boy nudging the darker one and nodding his head in the direction of
her ass. She slipped back into the passenger seat as the two boys came
around to his side of the car. The Hound had two hundred euro bills cupped
in the palm of one hand.

"This is Sasha and Omar" the girl offered up with an indifferent tone.

"You met my daughter?" he asked them, as they shared an incredulous
look. The one called Omar spoke up first.

"Your daughter, yeah. Sure. She said you... you had a job for us?"

The hound handed each boy a crisp new bill.

"That's the first part. The second part comes after she's happy."

Young Sasha looked up to Omar, who was obviously the alpha. Omar held the
bill in his hand, his slim thumb running down the edge.

"We ain't gonna do no faggot stuff. We ain't hustler boys."

The Hound smiled his nastiest smile and reached into the girl's lap,
tugging her skirt up roughly. She wasn't wearing underwear, and as the two
boys watched he reached down and spread her hairless little hot pink gash
wide with his ring and index fingers, then ran his fat middle finger up
inside her. The girl let out a happy sigh.

"Does this look like faggot stuff to you" he said, pulling down his
sunglasses to look Omar in the eye. The boy stared back for a moment before
breaking into a thick smile and ribbing his buddy with an elbow.

"Let's get some of that Sasha."

The smaller boy complied and quick as thieves, which they no doubt on
occasion were, the two boys were over the sides of the low-slung car and
seated in the tight rear seat. As he drove up into the winding brown hills
east of the city, past the finger-like calanques of the sea jutting into
the coast as the sun beat down from the west, the Hound spied the two boys
in his rearview mirror. They were both of them trying so hard to be
nonchalant, but it was clear that they both were having the time of their
lives. That was perfect.

Behind a long wall of smoked plexiglass, the house was a low box of glass
and stucco, positioned for its view of the sea several kilometers south and
a good 300 meters below. It was a rented house, not his own, just an
address he'd been e-mailed three days before, keys in the mailbox and the
car in the driveway. He knew it was already wired with cameras and a fast
line into the net. As he pulled the rumbling car to a stop, the hound
texted a message on his phone while walking back through the gate and past
the sparkling blue swimming pool, the sight of which stopped the two boys
cold on that steaming hot afternoon.

"Wow, can we take a swim?" blurted out Sasha, who the Hound had figured out
was probably born in the Ukraine, from his hard but slightly slurred
accent.

"Dummy, we didn't bring our suits" responded Omar with a little scowl to
put the other boy in place.

"Don't be silly, you don't need your suits" the girl cooed. She was so very
good at this.

"You can swim all you want, but first you need to perform." The Hound had a
deep, brusque accent that betrayed his tough early years in a rough
Northern town. The boys were sufficiently cowed and followed the girl
through the glass doors into the house.

He offered all three of them a beer, a strong La Chouffe ale from
Holland. Then he got out the little blotters. "What's that" asked Omar,
obviously the wary one. The Hound peeled one of the little squares off the
sheet and placed it on his tongue. The girl stuck her tongue out and he
popped another square right in the center. She swallowed, took a sip of
beer, and flipped her long bottle-blond hair back with practiced
nonchalance. "It's just a little something to make it more fun. Try it!"
The girl could sell pork to a rabbi. The boys offered up their own pink
tongues as the Hound placed a little square on each of them.

In the living room the Hound settled into an Eames lounge chair as the
three kids sat down on the low wide daybed-style white leather couch across
from him. He had checked the feeds on the computer and knew it offered good
angles for the cameras. The girl sat in the middle, and for a second both
boys showed their ages, looking nervous and sheepish.

"You two aren't virgins, are you" said the Hound, with just the slightest
hit of taunt in his voice.

"NO WAY" Omar practically yelped, as if it had been suggested that he liked
to wear his mother's underwear. "I've been with lots of sluts."

"Sluts, eh? How about you, Sasha?" The blond boy turned a bright shade of
red.

"I've seen some porn."

The Hound gave him a wide smile. "Thanks for being honest. This is going to
be way better then watching any porn."

The girl leaned over at that queue and reached a hand up, turning Sasha's
soft white cheek toward her, then started kissing the startled boy. Almost
immediately, Omar on the other side reached down to adjust his
crotch. After a moment she stopped and turned to him, offering him a long
wet kiss as well, and a quick grope of his pouch. Going back from one to
the other she soon had both boys worked up, grabbing their erections
through their clothes. Sasha's boner poked up the nylon of this baggy
shorts as the girl unzipped Omar's baggy jeans and reached inside. She
flipped the hair out of her face and bent over, drawing the excited boy's
uncut brown cock out of his white underwear and, with a sexy stare up at
his face, leaned over and took him in her mouth. The boy practically jolted
off the edge of the couch. Sure, he'd been with lots of sluts. As she
sucked him, she pushed his shirt up his chest until he grabbed it and
pulled it up and over his neck. After sucking Omar for a moment she turned
her attention to Sasha, who let out an involuntary "oh wow" when she sucked
down his slim pale uncut cock. As she leaned over the white boy, bold Omar
reached up between her legs, pushing her skirt back, and began to explore
her little hairless tat, which was growing shiny with moisture. the girl
swing both her legs up into the air and with one quick motion shipped the
skirt down over her ankles and onto the floor. She then rolled over onto
her hands and knees, thrusting her ass back towards Omar while going down
on Sasha's shiny stiff pink cock. Omar looked hesitant for a moment before
he leaned over and started licking her puffy little pussy lips. She pushed
Sasha's shorts and underwear down his legs until they bunched up around his
oversized trainers, which he kicked off with a brief struggle before
leaning back and pulling off his own t-shirt as she ran her hands up his
slim, defined frame, tweaking a little pink nipple. The boy had a lovely
tan from low on his waist on up, his pale slavic skin white from the top of
his pubic bone to just above his knees. Omar was a consistent copper color
all over, and as he peeled off his jeans the tight tone of his slim, hard
body became evident. As soon as he'd kicked his pants to the floor he was
up on his knees, proportionally oversized cock in hand, getting up behind
the girl, her ass up in the air inviting him. He reached down with one hand
while stroking with the other and spread open her pussy lips while the girl
moaned from the other boy's lap. With a quick thrust Omar had driven his
bone up into her. He came to a stop, with a cautious expression on his
face, as if he was wondering what to do next.

The Hound rose from the chair with a squeak and stripped off his shirt. He
was two meters tall, with a hugely muscled frame that resulted from his
four hours of daily gym routine. He kept his body hair waxed except for his
well-trimmed black bush, and at only 24 his perfect form showed no signs of
aging. He was hard all over. His naturally bronze skin was set off by a
deep tan that was offset by a triangle of lighter skin around his crotch
that he revealed as he stripped off his tight jeans and little cotton
briefs. Is he climbed out of them, Omar looked up from his concentration
and his jaw dropped. The hound's huge penis swung between his tree trunk
legs, rising with every beat of his heart until he grabbed his fat head and
casually flipped back his foreskin. A look of awe passed over the young
brown boy's face. Little Sasha had yet to notice him, since his eyes were
scrunched closed in pleasure, but as the man approached the couch the girl
looked up and seeing the massive meat towering above her, lifted her head
to move her lips up to the fat cock. Little Sasha opened his wide blue eyes
and jumped at the sight of the huge manhood hanging above him. The girl
gave the fat head several game licks before popping it expertly in her
mouth. After a moment, Omar started thrusting his hips into the girl,
pushing his boy-sized member up into the warm sleeve in front of him. Sasha
looked a bit non-plussed to be left out as he started jerking his little
member. The hound looked down at the boy and waved him up.

"Stand up."

Sasha didn't seem to understand at first, but then he hopped up, spreading
his feet to balance himself on the soft couch. His slim pink hardness
pointed up at his face as he peered down and watched the girl giving
head. Then without warning the Hound leaned down and sucked the boy's
member into his mouth.

"Hey" the boy yelped before pulling his dick back.

"We said no faggot stuff" Omar growled. The hound straightened up and gave
him a look. The boy stopped pumping his hips and a flash of fear crossed
his face.

"Do I look like a faggot? Don't worry boys, I'm not gonna rape your skinny
little asses. But I wanna fool around, so you better get with it. Besides,
there are three cocks here and only one pussy" he added, neglecting to
mention the girl's other holes. Omar looked back at him for a moment, then
slowly he started thrusting his hips again.

'Let him suck you, Sasha."

The blond boy didn't need to be told twice. "OK" he offered nervously as he
sloped his crotch forward. The man leaned his head down again and sucked
the little stiffy down. Soon he had the boy breathing heavy and groaning
with pleasure.

After a few minutes the Hound knew what he needed. He popped the boy's
boner out of his mouth and grabbed the girl around the waist, lifting her
up with his strong arms, facing him. It was Omar's turn to look non-plussed
as his dick popped out of the warm pussy with a slurp.

"This is how you fuck a girl, boys" the Hound grumbled. The girl reached
down and grabbed the end of his long dick while he held her in the air,
guiding the fat member to her wet hole with well practiced aim as he thrust
her down on him. She let out a gasp of air before sliding all the way down
his fat cock, her entire weight being supported on his dick as his big
hands around her tiny waist served to steady her. Then, as she put her own
hands on his big shoulders, he lifted her up and rammed her down in a
succession of thrusts. She panted, and the Hound started letting out sharp
little barks with each thrust. It was how he'd earned his nickname. After
maybe 20 rides up and down his prick, he kneeled down carefully onto the
rug. The low couch was at perfect height when he kneeled in front of it,
and he lowered her onto her back without missing a pussy-stretching
thrust. Sasha was the first to see the advantage of this position, and the
slim white boy jumped up onto his knees, straddling the girl with his legs
and offering her his stiffy. She started sucking energetically. Omar was
left to the side jerking his meat and looking left out again. Sasha saw him
and looked at his friend. Something unspoken passed between them, and the
blond boy leaned over, taking the brown boy's fat pubescent erection in his
mouth. Omar had just a few curly black hairs above his sizable bone, and
soon Sasha's red lips were wetting them. Omar looked sheepishly up at the
Hound, but the big man just offered out a hand for a high five, which Omar
slapped down with a goofy smile. With his other hand, the Hound slapped
Sasha's pale white ass as the boy thrust into the girl's able mouth.

With a high-pitched squeal from his unbroken voice, Sasha orgasmed, his
hips pumping like a piston, a shake of nerve energy running through his
little body as the boy pulled up from his cock sucking and threw his head
back in pleasure. He rolled off of the girl, collapsing onto her side. He
smiled contentedly and reached out to start playfully tugging on her
nipple. On her other side, Omar's hand moved into a blur. The boy was
jerking so fast he seemed to lift his ass right off the couch with each
stroke. Finally, he squirted one small spoonful of clear liquid onto his
tight heaving bronze belly and collapsed back into the couch with an
exclamation of "holy shit".

The Hound knew it was his turn, and growling like a dog with each thrust,
he grabbed the girl by her narrow shoulders and slammed her down on
him. The first brutal thrust set the girl off into a writhing orgasm, but
he didn't slow. It seemed impossible that such narrow little hips could
take the pounding of a fat man-sized cock, but the girl was panting with
pleasure. As she built up to a second orgasm she started screaming "fuck it
daddy! fuck it daddy". The Hound obliged and reamed her out. Finally, he
pulled the long member out with a motion that seemed to take forever, more
and more cock popping out of the stretched pink gash. He grasped himself in
one big calloused hand and gave it a few fast strokes. As his huge balls
emptied, he pointed his cock at little Sasha, spraying the lad from crotch
to nipples with thick white cream. Omar exploded in glee. " Dude" he
finally got out between hysterical bursts of laughter as he pointed at his
friend. "He totally just painted you. You're totally spooged!" The
Ukrainian boy looked sheepish for a moment, until the girl leaned over and
started licking him clean with her eager puppy-dog tongue as he giggled
uncontrollably. The Hound fell off his knees to the floor, his arm coming
to rest on the couch against Omar's thigh. He looked up at the boy.

"Can I ask you a question Mister?" the boy piped up.

"Sure".

"Why do you make her call you daddy?"

The hound gazed lovingly at the girl, still busy at work, her tongue in
overdrive as she cleaned Sasha of the sticky cum.

"Because she's my daughter."

"Really?"

"Annabel, honey, who's your papa?" The girl looked up and gave a sperm-wet,
heartbreaking smile at her beloved dad.

"You are, daddy!"

Omar looked puzzled. 'How old are you, mister?"

"I'm twenty-four".

"But she's, like, ten." The girl finished her licking and rolled back into
her ass.

"I'm eleven, dummy!" she exclaimed with indignation.

"So how can she be yours?"

The Hound looked at the boy for a moment, then reached out and grabbed
Omar's deflating dick. He squeezed it, and a single pearl drop of clear
liquid came out the slit. The big man wiped it up with a finger and held it
up to the light, then licked his fingertip clean.

"Judging by the taste, you still need about six more months before you are
shooting real cream, boy. Once that happens, you just gotta do like I did
when I wasn't much older then you. Find some bitch who wants you to squirt
a baby up in her." Omar considered that with a serious look. Annabel looked
over at the slim, hard brown boy, appraising him cooly.

"Maybe in a couple of years, when I start my periods, I'll let you fuck one
into me." The girl was nothing if not a flirt. Omar's dick jumped back to
attention at the thought. Annabel stood up, and as she did, her daddy
leaned up and licked her stretched gaping pussy with several thrusts of his
tongue. He watched as her hole pulled closed as it always did after a good
fuck session.

"I'm going swimming!" she exclaimed, and ran for the glass doors. The boys
jumped up and all three went into the pool with a splash, naked as animals,
stereotypical children again.

The hound stood up and took a long, deep stretch. He could still feel that
morning's workout in his delts and triceps, and he stretched his hands
above his head, pushing against the low ceiling. then he walked into the
next room, a bedroom with a large glass desk with nothing on it but a wide
screen laptop computer. He woke the machine and logged into the video chat
program. He pinged the address and after a moment the window filled with
the face of the man he called the Boss.

"Did you catch any of that?" the Hound asked, just a bit anxiously.

"Some. I've got three feeds going here." Over the Boss's shoulder the Hound
could see two monitors. One featured a segmented video stream on which a
shaggy-haired white-blond pale-skinned well-built teenage boy was fucking a
little girl of maybe eight or nine, equally blond and milky in
complexion. Both his cock and her stretched little pussy were a lovely
shade of rosy pink where they joined; apparently their genitals were
untouched by the sun. The action was being captured from multiple
angles. The Hound could only see the corner of the other monitor, but on it
the face of a mature latin-looking woman appeared as she sucked a small
boy's soft penis between her full lips.

"Well, I think you'll like it".

"I saw the boys. Cute. Did you get them to do any gay?"

"Yeah, I gave the little blond one head, and then he turned around and did
his buddy. My guess is that I'll have them spreading their tight asses
within the week".

"Good. Annabel sure seems to be coming along".

"She's well trained". The Hound beamed with pride for a moment at the Boss,
who saw the expression and returned the smile.

"Of course she is. So was her daddy". The Boss looked off on another
monitor and typed some rapid commands into his keyboard. Then he turned
back to the Hound.

"I've set her up a date, next Friday night in Monaco. I'll text you the
time and slip number of the yacht."

"Who is it?"

"Someone new to you. Arabs, of course. Fucking Monaco."

A moment's unhappiness spread across the Hound's face. The Boss didn't fail
to notice.

"They are fully vetted, they've used us before. It's a kindly little sheik,
a fat soft fellow. He likes boys more then girls, so there will be three
boys there as well, all ours. The girls usually just have to do a bit of
dancing and ride one of the boys while the sheik watches and gets it up for
the other boys. They'll be done be 10 PM. It won't be anything like that
situation in Antibes you had to clean up for me last year".

"I fucking hope not". A shadow crossed the Hound's hard face as he
remembered the tall dark man with the fat salt-and-pepper mustache. It
hadn't been Annabel, thank god, but it didn't matter. The Hound had been
raised in an orphanage, and he couldn't abide bullies. That particular one
had washed up on a Corsican beach not long after his embassy had put out a
bullshit cover story about his being "recalled for consultation".

"You are doing great work down there. Do you like the house?"

"Yeah, it's way better then that last dump" the Hound replied with a smile.

"Right. Well, we may be able to keep you two there until the school year
gets going."

"Gets going or gets finished?"

"You know I can't see that far into the future. My best guess, we can keep
you there through the holidays. That would give her an uninterrupted half
year at least. I know that guy in Australia would like you two back for the
break, but we'll see after that. It's a good setup. Just don't crash that
fucking car. I still miss that goddamned Alfa."

The Hound smiled a wide smile. He knew that he was on the Boss's good side
when he ribbed him about the crashed car.

"Ok Boss, I'm gonna go out and have a swim, and then get these two juvenile
delinquents nice and worked up for round two. Talk to you in a few."

The window closed and he shut the laptop, leaning back, his hefty dick
dawdling between his legs off the edge of the chair. He looked up through
the window to see Omar's lithe, well defined form, glistening with pool
water as the boy ran for a diving cannonball into the pool. The Hound's fat
dick leaped at the sight. He reached down and gave it a friendly pet, then
hopped up onto the balls of his feet, one hundred kilos of muscle, sinew,
and bone. He walked out the doors to the edge of the pool, the sunlight
warming his skin, his dick growing in front of him, the sea sparkling
below, three sexy kids, including his own beautiful seed, frolicking below.

Damn, he loved his work.