{AT} The Lolita Method, Part II Case Studies - Virgin Marys (5d/7) .. by PRED
pr...@altavista.net
Humbert: Scott/PRED, age 34
Technique: Disicpling, Counseling Her Pants Off
Note - This last Virgin Mary case study has been added to this
newest edition of The Lolita Method. The events described took place
a little over a year ago.
One of the cool things about having fake identities is getting
the opportunity to infiltrate various spheres of existence that would
definitely be closed to the REAL you. Case in point, I've developed
an alternate identity over the last several years that has allowed me
to get into the closed world of psychological counseling. I do
possess an extensive post-graduate education in psychology, so I have
been able to pull off the ruse with absolutely no trouble. My name
and degree belong to a shrink who "dropped out" and went to live in a
foreign country. He was disgusted with the profession and just kind
of willed me all his effects - diplomas, papers, etc.
I've parlayed this cache into quite a lucrative scam since
returning back to my old home town several years ago. Using his ID
and credentials, I took on some part-time work last year as a
counselor in a drug and alcohol treatment center for troubled youths.
The center is based on the AA model, so they offer group as well as
individual therapy. To guard against savvy Humberts such as myself,
the Center established the policy that men doctors could only counsel
boys while women are limited to counseling girls. The group sessions
are open to all, though, so I quickly signed on to lead the 16-17
group, which was the only one open.
Once inside the Center, I quickly learned how to get access to
all the "guest" files. These include personality profiles,
biographies, school records, police records, and therapeutic
evaluations. The savvy Humbert can learn a lot of useful information
in files such as these, and I used my research time to pinpoint the
most likely prey wandering the Center. In my group alone, I
identified seven very ripe Lolitas, and successfully began engaging
them as Stoners.
Publicly, inside the group, I insisted that all the girls had
"substance abuse problems" and were in denial. Privately, however, I
confided to each of them that I didn't believe they really had any
"problems" other than parents and guardians who didn't "understand"
them. I told them I would help them get through the experience with
their sanity intact. I befriended them, provided them with drugs and
anything else they desired, and they were quite "grateful" if you know
what I mean. I only asked that they play the game with the rest of
the staff so they could get out of the program as quickly as possible.
All of these Stoner Girls followed my lead and fucked my brains out
until they were free.
All except Roberta, that is ..
Roberta's alcohol and drug use had led to a tragic automobile
accident. She had been driving while stoned out of her mind and hit a
telephone pole. Her best friend, sitting next to her in the front
seat, went through the windshield and was suffering from partial
paralysis because of the misadventure. Roberta held herself
personally responsible, and she, unlike every other kid in the Center,
was committed to her Recovery. She wanted to atone for her past sins
and make a NEW SELF. She may have succeeded, too, if she hadn't
caught my eye.
I WANTED this one. In addition to her long brown hair, pretty
face and plump curvy body, she exuded an intoxicating mixture of
fragility and hopefulness. I looked at her, dangling at the precipice
of self-destruction, clinging desperately to the hand she thought was
I outstretched to save her, and I had to TAKE her. I needed to feel
myself crush her struggling spirit and extinguish whatever light
remained wavering in her soul. I looked over her file looking for an
"in."
Before the accident, Roberta had been a normal sex, drugs and
rock'n'roller. She'd been in and out of counseling a few times in her
early teens, but had shown no desire to "get with the program." She
partied and slept around with impunity.
After the accident, however, she was a different person. She
became committed to the sobriety Cause, and she was determined to make
this stay at the Center the last chapter in her old life, and the
first step in a bold new direction - adulthood, responsibility, a
sense of higher purpose.
Within my group, Roberta played advocate for everyone. She
wanted to SAVE everyone. She was so blind she thought I was the
greatest shrink in the world because within a few short days I had
transformed the unruly girls in the group to docile, cliché-spouting
zombies. It never occurred to her that I might be feeding the cunts
drugs and cock. She also failed to notice that my counseling had
barely even a negligible effect on the boys in the group. Quite
frankly, I ignored them and spent most of my time getting the girls to
open up. When the boys found out I wasn't going to hassle them, they
just kind of slept through the group sessions. At least they didn't
cause trouble.
In Roberta's eyes, I was a miracle worker. I noticed her
adulation and cultivated it. The Stoners I was fucking thought this
was hilarious, and I think they wanted to see me fuck "Miss Goody Two
Shoes" as much as I desired it. So they kept quiet, sat back and
watched me work on the little Virgin Mary.
I made Roberta the Group secretary, which meant she kept the
meeting running smoothly according to the AA guidelines. These she
knew by heart. I also encouraged her to do a lot of the talking. The
others appreciated this. Roberta's anecdotes also allowed me to learn
even more about her, stuff that wasn't in her file.
All this while, I showered her with attention and praise,, and
after two weeks she felt she could "tell me anything." So, that's
what she started doing. She'd track me down in the cafeteria or the
library and start yammering. She told me her counselor, a bitch I
nicknamed Petty Betty, was totally inept, and she preferred talking to
me. So she talked .. and talked .. AND talked.
I soon learned everything there was to know about her, and I
quickly developed a plan to bag her and pin her panties over the
headboard of my bed as a trophy. My plan was simple. She already
worshipped me and followed every word of advice I gave her. Now all I
needed to do was transfer that passivity into a sexual context without
"making a move" on her.
I knew Roberta pretty well by then. If I proceeded with her
as I had with previous Lolitas, she would balk, start singing to one
of my higher ups, and my little "forbidden" pussy train would come
grinding to a halt outside the State Penitentiary. I went over all my
notes and reread Cal's experiences concerning Virgin Marys. I needed
to find SOME WAY to get us even closer, to get her CAUGHT UP in some
big Cause so she couldn't see what I was doing.
Then I recalled something in her file. It was a three-page
paper she'd written about inadequacy of youth treatment centers. Her
major thesis was that adults who had no idea WHY kids turned to drugs
and booze designed these Centers. She proclaimed that the "old
answers" weren't valid anymore, that kids didn't get high for the same
reasons as their parents did. Consequently, a Center designed by
young people would invariably help and reach more kids than one
designed by adults.
I had my "in." Never letting on that I'd seen and read her
paper, I brought up an idea similar to hers in passing. She JUMPED on
it, chattering non-stop about how she had the same idea. I told her I
was very interested in this, and she started bringing me all her plans
and notes. She said she'd given up on the plan months ago because "no
one seemed to give a shit." I, on the other hand, was just the person
to encourage her and cultivate her obsession, all the while pretending
it was my dream as well.
Our meetings became more and more frequent as the days wore
on. I was edging her nearer to the kill. As she got more and more
wrapped up in her quixotic Cause, the more I convinced her I "knew
some people" who might actually make her fantasy a reality. In my
spare time, I scouted a deserted location that I told her we could get
"for a song" with the proper funding. I loaned her some books on
non-profit fund raising, and she threw herself even deeper into the
Cause.
Meanwhile, I asked if she wanted to come out to the Location
with me and check it out. She said yes and became very excited at the
prospect. Now our only problem lay in getting her off Center grounds
under my supervision. No one on staff knew anything nor even
suspected I was using the Center as my own personal "forbidden"
whorehouse. Still, they were not about to allow a male staffer take a
female "guest" off property unsupervised. The only realistic way we
could out together was in an emergency situation. So I devised
another plan and Roberta went along with it for the Cause.
She feigned having a terrible stomachache. The Center's
doctor looked at her, and she was so convincing that he recommended
she go the emergency room that day. Roberta and I had staged our ruse
for the day when I was acting as "Operations Chief." The position of
Ops Chief rotated daily, and each morning a new Ops Chief took over
the day-to-day running of the Center. Decisions such as how to
transport a sick "guest" to the emergency room rested in my hands.
A call to the hospitals private ambulance service would cost
money, something the Center was always short on. The drive was only
three miles away, so I volunteered to take Roberta myself, thus saving
the Center the bill. No one even questioned my command decision. So
Roberta and I left the grounds and went to the hospital. There we
waited long enough to have a doctor see us and examine Roberta. By
that time, she was "feeling better" and the doctor attributed her
severe pain to cramping combined with acute indigestion. He gave her
some antacids and sent us on our way.
The wait in hospital emergency rooms is notoriously long, so
no one even suspected anything "funny" when Roberta and I arrived back
at the Center three and a half hours later. Of course, after she was
released we went out to the Location, an old deserted farmhouse I'd
found two counties over. She loved it, running all around the
property and brainstorming design ideas. I pretended to be caught up
in the moment, too, and as we stood in the upstairs hallway
envisioning the rooms filled with "troubled kids getting help" I
suddenly reached out, put my arm around her and embraced her.
The look in her eyes was priceless. She bent her neck back
and peered into my gaze with her dewy, fluttering eyes. She knew I
was going to kiss her. She was wrong. I let her go and buried my
face in my hands. "I can't believe that happened," I started ranting.
"I can't believe I let myself .. I am so sorry. That was SO wrong. I
just .. God, I am such an asshole .." I continued berating myself
while she stood there in shock. When I started faking tears, she
melted.
"It's all right," she came over to me, threw her arms around
me and buried her face in my heaving chest. "I know .. I know why you
did it. I'm not offended. Not at ALL. I feel the same way. I've
felt the same way for a long time now. I had no idea you were feeling
it, too. I thought I was just a .. you know .. a kid to you."
"You're hardly a kid," I protested. "I mean look at you. You
know you're not like the others at the Center. They're kids. You're
a woman - a bright, sensitive, compassionate woman who is going to wok
to make her dreams come true. You can't believe how beautiful that
makes you to me. When I'm around you, when I hear your voice, it's
like someone's punched a hole in my heart."
She leaned up now and kissed me - on the lips. I pretended to
resist, then suddenly relent to the passion roiling inside me. I
parted my lips and let her tongue flick inside my mouth. My own
tongue tentatively lashed against hers, then threw itself into the
kiss with a full frenzy.
"I love you," I gasped between mouthfuls of her "forbidden"
passion. "I love you so much."
These words triggered off the response I was looking for.
Before become Virgin Roberta, this little Lolita had been quite a
promiscuous Stoner Girl. She'd been tested for pregnancy once (a
false alarm) and arrested for "public indecency" in the back of a car
with a high school boy. She'd submerged those "evil ways" beneath her
"new morality," though, and those repressed desires had spent the last
several weeks festering beneath the surface of her healing wounds like
a cyst.
I popped that that cyst, however, letting the pus of her
passions infect her blood to a seething boil. She lost her top; my
Dockers fell to my knees; her jeans spilled to her ankles; my shirt
buttons popped open; her bra-straps slid down her plump shoulders and
she shrugged her swollen boobs free from their cups. Her "forbidden"
boobs were almost all aureole, the pinkish brown tit-skin covering
almost her entire breast. I was fascinated by these adorable puffies
and took them between my suckling lips.
She shuddered, threw her neck back and pressed me deeper into
her ripe bosoms. We staggered back into one of the deserted rooms.
We laid our coat on the floor as a makeshift mattress and resumed our
heavy petting. She stroked my hard dick through my shorts, then
snaked her hand beneath the elastic when I breached her panties and
found her moist, eager slot.
Our underwear came off slowly, and as we kissed we manually
played with each other until we needed more. "Can I make love to
you?" I asked with all the faux sincerity I could muster.
"Yes," she gasped. "Do you have protection?"
"Yes," I replied, fumbling in my wallet for the condoms I
always keep handy. "Are you ..?" I started.
"Yes," she cut me off. "I'm on the pill. I have been for a
year."
"I love you," I whispered as I ripped open the Trojan wrapper
and unfurled the latex cock-glove down my throbbing nine-inch
cunt-buster.
"I never .." she stopped, her pea-brain searching for the
words. "None of the guys I ever did EVER had one that big," she
pointed to my sheathed rape-saber and half-giggled. "Promise to be
gentle ..?" she half-joked, trying to hide the concern and anxiety in
her voice.
"I promise," I kissed her fiercely. "But not TOO gentle," I
quipped as I leaned her back, parted her plump thighs and stabbed
myself into her sopping snatch.
I sank deep into her tender cunt, and she grunted every inch
up into her belly. She was VERY wet, so it made the process of
acclimating her to my MAN-sized member that much easier and more
pleasurable for her. She moaned and bucked her hips when my busy
fingers found the skin around her clit-flap and bothered the bump
beneath. "Oh, that feels so FUCKING AWESOME!" This was the first
time I had ever heard Roberta swear before, and as I continued feeding
her my dick she let loose with a string of obscenities that would have
made a whore blush. "Slam that big old dick inside me, baby. Let me
ride tht fuck pole. Use me, use my cunt like a fucking slut. Fuck me
with that big cock. Slam my pussy with your big hard cock. That's
it. Use my pussy. Fuck me like an animal. Fuck me! Fuck me!"
I did as she asked, diddling her clit while I plowed into her
until she exploded in a thrashing climax. She tried to push me away,
then. She was obviously one of those girls who cums so hard they
can't stand having their pussies touched afterwards for a few minutes.
Well, FUCK THAT! I pinned her to the floor, still humping away.
Ignoring her gasping pleas to "get off," I slid my long dick out of
her cunt until the tip barely dangled outside her labia. Then I drove
my hips down and forward, gutting her and vacating her back and forth.
One minute she was stuffed full of cock, and the next she was
achingly empty. She quit struggling after a few minutes and just lay
there moaning as I repeatedly filled and voided her. I wanted to time
my cum to coincide with her second climax. I had fucked her behind
the tenderness of her first orgasm now, and she was bucking her hips
to meet my pounding thrusts. Feeling her chasing her cum, I redoubled
the fury in my strokes and urged her on like a filly racing towards
the finish line. "Tell me when," I hissed as our bodies slapped
together like two hydrogen atoms in a fusion reactor.
"Al..almost .." she gurgled. "Almost ..there .. right there
. right now .. OH JESUS FUCKING CHRIST FUCK ME WITH THAT BIG DICK!
FUCK ME!"
I relaxed as I felt her pussy pulse around my cock. I dumped
a fresh load of cum into the reservoir of my rubber and pummeled her
through her second orgasm in under half an hour. When I was done
being milked by her tight cunt walls, I just settled inside her. We
lay entangled within one another kissing and cooing like lovesick
teenagers.
My cock had only cum once, so it was still VERY hard and alert
as it snuggled in its newest home. "You're still hard," she gasped
with surprise a few minutes later.
"I need to cum again for it to go down," I told her.
"We can't have that," she giggled. She slid off my fuck-pole
and told me to lie on my back. Then she started sucking my dick and
my balls.
"I like having my ass licked, too," I told her as I petted her
hair. She looked at me oddly, but complied with my wishes, snaking
her cautious tongue up my butt while she jacked off my cock and balls.
After a lot of encouragement, she seemed to grow used to ass-licking,
and when she finally surfaced she had the most adorable shit-eating
grin (pun intended).
"Do you got another rubber?" she asked mischievously.
"In my wallet," I told her as she dug the package out. "Why?"
I asked she peeled open the pack and began outfitting my love-gun for
another assault.
"I want to ride that big dick of yours," she told me as she
scooted her pussy on top my raging prick, impaling her tight wet cunt
down its entire length. She crucified her pussy on my cock for almost
ten straight minutes, gasping and swearing the whole while, before I
pulled her body close to mine, sucked her puffie boobs and unleashed a
spunk-storm inside her ravaged twat.
After that day, we started seeing each other regularly inside
the Center, catching stolen moments for blow-jobs and such while the
other staffers milled obliviously around us. The members in our Group
knew I'd TAKEN Miss Goody-Two Shoes the next time we had a session,
though. One Stoner Girl told me they could see it in Roberta's eyes.
She had needed a hard cock to "chill her out," I was told, and all the
other girls in the Group seemed amused that I had bagged her and
turned her into a total slut.
A week later, Roberta checked out of the Center. I hung on
for a few more weeks or so, getting some more "forbidden" pussy before
I felt it wa stime to move on. I continued seeing Roberta and feeding
her pipe dreams about designing her own Treatment Center for kids by
kids. She possessed only false information concerning my real ID, so
I wasn't that nervous about her turning obsessive on me. She never
did, though, and we still fuck almost two years later. By now she's
in college, though, and pretty much over her Virgin Mary phase. The
last I heard, she wants to go into business management, which is a
long way off from opening up a treatment center and saving the world.
I also know for a fact that she drinks, smokes pot and fucks around
again. So maybe, in my own way, I really did help her get through a
difficult time and grow as a human being. I mean stranger things have
happened.