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Pedo-Dating Game!

There was always a hint of electricity in the air just before a taping of the world’s most exciting gameshow, and tonight was no different! At exactly 9 pm, the side doors opened and the men shuffled into the studio and found their seats. Most of them came religiously every Saturday night, so they knew the drill… filling in at the far end, coat collars brought up high, hats pulled down low.

There wasn’t much talking, not much socializing. They came, they took their seats, they leaned forward in anticipation. Some had even brought snacks from home…. Popcorn, goobers, soda. But it was hard to relax at an event like this, the excitement was palpable! Soon enough, the enormous stage lights from above shown down and the theme music started up: fun, poppy music with zany orchestral arrangements, getting everyone in the mood!

On the stage, now visible under the glare of the lights, were illuminated large, sign bubble letters:

THE PEDO-DATING GAME!

There was a nice plush seat on one side of the stage, separated by a dividing wall. On the other side of the wall were three other seats. It was such a simple set-up, and let’s face it, sometimes simplicity is best!

“Ladies and gentlemen, and I use the term loosely...” said the male announced from somewhere unseen, his deep voice being piped in from some unseen location. “Welcome to tonight’s episode of….”

And then, all together, the men in the audience shouted out in unison:

“The Pedo-Dating Game!”

and broke out into thunderous applause.

“That’s right!” continued the announcer. “And we have a great show for you tonight! So take your hands out of your pockets and give a warm welcome to your hostess with the mostest…. Miss Angela Honeywell!”

The applause continued, along with the stomping of feet and several whoops and hollers as off stage-right bounced in a tall, voluptuous blonde woman wearing bright red lipstick and a wide smile. “Well, thank ya! Thank ya, everyone!” she called out, waving at everyone and bouncing up and down excitedly. Her massive bosom, which spilled out of her tight red dress, bounced right along with her. “My, ah am just so thrilled to be with y’all tonight! Y’all just look like a wonderful audience!”

The clapping increased, men screamed down compliments and obscenities in equal measure. “I want to fuck those tits!” screamed one audience member, and everyone had a great laugh at that, including Miss Honeywell, who gave her tits a good squeeze.

“What? Ya mean these ol’ things?” She laughed. “Ya know, ah remember my first time with a man… ah must have been eleven years old, and believe me, these things were already comin in nicely! Mah teacher had me wait after class, after all the other kids had left, and he said, Now Angela, I see great things in your future! And then he unzipped his pants and took out his cock and said, But right now, I just want to see this cock in your mouth!”

Everyone laughed uproariously at that.

“Now, without further adieu, would ya like to meet tonight’s contestant?”

More clapping and cheers.

“Charlie, who do we have tonight?”

“Well, Angela,” said the male announcer. “Tonight’s first contestant is 10 years old, from Grand Rapids, Michigan. Her favorite show is My Little Pony, and her favorite color is pink! Please welcome Cynthia Morrison!”

More fanfare played as a very young girl slowly walked onto the stage. She shielded her eyes from the lights, and acted like she didn’t quite know what she was supposed to be doing. She wore a pair of shorts and a pink t-shirt which barely covered her midriff. She had long, blonde hair which fell straight down her shoulders.

“That’s right, honey,” cajoled Miss Honeywell. “You come right on out here, that’s the way!”

Cynthia took her time, looking every which way, as though trying to find an exit.

“No need to be scared, sweetie-pie! C’mon now, don’t be shy! Have a seat in our comfy chair!”

Cynthia did as she was told. She looked up at Miss Honeywell, her bottom lip trembling with fear.

“Now, Cynthia,” said Miss Honeywell. “Do you know how the game is played?”

“…I want to go home…” said Cynthia.

“Hahahaha!” Miss Honeywell threw her head back with laughter. “We’ll see about that! Now you’re going to meet three eligible pedophiles. When they’re done introducing themselves, you can choose which one you want to go on a date with, okay? See, nothing to it!”

“Is my mommy here?” the girl asked.

Miss Honeywell laughed again, her whole bosom shaking. “Now remember, you can only choose one, but if for some reason you just can’t make up your mind…” She licked her lips and came very close to Cynthia’s ear. “Ahm gonna stomp on your little skull with mah high heels and make your little head go splat!”

Everyone laughed in the audience, and Cynthia screamed out in terror, just as metal clamps sprung up from the chair and attached themselves to her arms and ankles.

“Now let’s meet tonight’s first pedophile. Coming all the way from a homeless shelter in Baltimore, Maryland, we’ve got Dirty Ernie Jones. Dirty Ernie, come on out and say hello to Cynthia!”

From the other side of the stage walked a skinny man with long, greasy hair and a thick beard. He wore a very old trench coat and smiled toothlessly as flies circled around him.

“That’s right, Miss Honeywell,” came the announcer’s voice. “Ernie Jones, known as Dirty Ernie, is a pedophile and convicted sex offender wanted in 12 states for rape and murder… his youngest victim was just 6 years old!”

Dirty Ernie bowed as the audience clapped.

“6 years old, my goodness!” giggled Miss Honeywell, breathing heavy with excitement. “You sure do like em young! Now tell us, what do you think of our Cynthia here?”

Ernie licked his lips. “Aw, fuck, she’s a doll, a regular doll!” He clapped his hands together and could barely contain himself. “Can’t wait to get my fuckin cock up in her and rape the shit out of that purty mouth.”

“Aw, did you hear that, a little doll!” beamed Miss Honeywell. “Isn’t that nice, Cynthia?”

Cynthia struggled in her chair, but to no avail. “…please…. I want my mommy…”

“Hahaha! Now tell us, Dirty Ernie,” said Miss Honeywell, turning back to the first pedophile. “What would a perfect date be like with you and little Cynthia?”

“Aw, fuck, first I’d rip that little shirt off of her, then I’d grab her by the pussy, and shove my stinky cock down her throat, and I’d fuck her till she choked on it! Then I’d take my knife and gut her wide open and jerk myself off while the rats ate her! Oh, fuck yeah, let me at her!”

“Haha! Just you wait, Dirty Ernie! Now, Charlie, who’s our next eligible pedophile?”

“Miss Honeywell, our next pedophile comes from the Weeping Willows Retirement Community in Jersey City. It’s none other than Ed Morrison! That’s right, it’s Cynthia’s grandfather!”

The audience clapped as a kindly, older man walked out onto the stage and took his seat. He wore a pair of corduroys and a green sweater.

“This IS a surprise!” said Miss Honeywell. “Tell us, Ed, when did you first learn you were a pedophile?”

“Well,” said the old man, chuckling a bit to himself. “I’ve never told anyone this before… it’s a bit embarrassing, I suppose. But when Cynthia was little, I mean, even littler than she is today, she used to come over to my house on the weekends…”

“How little are we talking?”

“Oh… let’s see… I reckon she was about four or five. Her parents would drop her off, you see. And I thought she was just the most darling creature I’d ever seen. Just so perfect and adorable… My little princess, I called her. And one thing she loved was pony rides! So, you see, I would sit her on my lap and then start bouncing her, and I would start saying Here we go! Here we go on a pony ride! And she would laugh and clap her hands and say, Faster, Grampy! Faster! But then one afternoon I was doing it, and well… I got a little hard-on, like we used to say, and before I knew it, I’d cum all over myself. My pants were soaked with it! Of course she didn’t know what had happened, how could she have? I was so embarrassed and ashamed… but I’ve never been able to get it out of my head…. Now that she’s older, I just think she’s gotten even more beautiful, and I just want to give her more pony rides!”

Miss Honeywell was practically speechless. “Mah goodness, that is just SO sweet! That must be the sweetest thing I ever heard! You know, you remind me of MY grandpa, he was a darling man, and he loved touching me when I was little, and I loved being touched!”

The audience clapped as Ed blushed.

“Now who’s our third contestant?” said Miss Honeywell.

“Our third pedophile comes to us from Blackgate Prison where he is currently serving a series of back-to-back life sentences for homicide, first-degree murder, armed robbery, assault, rape…. Well, you name it, he’s done it! Please welcome Deondre Jackson!” Out stepped a very large, black man, a good seven feet tall, with tattoos all up and down his chiseled, muscled arms.

“Oooh! I do love me a strong man!” admired Miss Honeywell. “Deondre, we’re so happy you could make the time to be with us today. Tell us, what would your Perfect date with little Cynthia here be like?”

Deondre cracked his knuckles. “I fuck anything, you know what I mean?” he said in a deep voice. “Alive, dead, male, female, don’t matter none to me. In prison, I always have first shot at new inmates. And if they don’t want me fuckin their asses, then they get their skulls bashed in and that’s all there is to it. One time I killed a bitch and fucked her corpse for the next three days. Little slut like this, I think she’d be fun to skull fuck. I could palm her in one hand. Yeah, man.”

Miss Honeywell was breathing hard. “Well, ah know who I’d choose if it was up to me!” she said with a wink. “But it’s not up to me, it’s up to little Cynthia here! Now Cynthia, tell us all, who do you choose? Dirty Ernie, your grammpa, or Deondre here?”

Everyone in the audience began shouting out their answers, as overheard, the special decision time music played.

“I guess…” said Cynthia, looking from the smiling face of the bosomy Miss Honeywell, out to the audience of shouting men. “I guess I choose… Grandpa?”

There was some scattered applause, as Ed stood and shuffled over to his granddaughter.

“Oh, that is just so, so sweet!” said Miss Honeywell. “Okay, sweetie, here’s your grandpa! Ah think you just made him a lucky, lucky man!”

The clamps came off and Cynthia was crying freely now as her grandpa sat next to her and took her hand in his. “There, there, don’t cry,” he said, wiping away at her tears. “It will be okay. Just come over here and sit on grampa’s lap….”

“Grampa, you’re hurting me…” she screamed, trying to get out of his grip.

“Shh…. It’s okay, I can’t tell you how long grampas’ wanted to do this…” He sat his whimpering granddaughter down on his lap. “Oh yes….” He said. “Oh god, yes. Fuck, yes…” He began touching her all over her body, mostly around her chest and neck. “Fuck yeah, ride on gramppa… Give gramppa a ride…”

“No!” she squirmed. “Stop it!”

“It’s okay,” he said, and lightly bounced her up and down. She flailed her limbs, but he kept right on bouncing her…

The audience was quiet now, watching with intensity. Off to the sides, Dirty Ernie was rubbing himself off, “oh that lucky bastard, that lucky bastard,” he moaned.

Miss Honeywell was almost running herself, a hand up her skirt. Her eyes were closed as she moaned, drool dripping from the corner of her mouth. “I love this part….” She said. “Oh fuck, I love this part of the show…”

Everyone was enjoying themselves mightily…

Except for Deondre.

He just watched the molestation taking place and seemed angry about it. “Man, fuck this shit!” he yelled, and stood from his chair and marched over. He grabbed Cynthia off of her grampa’s lap and tossed her to one side.

“Hey!” yelled her grandfather. “Just what do you think you’re…”

Deondre punched him as hard he could, sending his head twisting around unnaturally and the old man fell lifelessly on the floor. Deondre then lifted up his boot and brought it down hard on the old man’s skull. Blood and gore leaked out over the stage.

Miss Honeywell opened her eyes, practically orgasmic at the sight. “Oh, yes! Fuck, yes!” she squealed, bouncing up and down.

Cynthia had gotten herself up and was scrambling to get away when Deondre grabbed her again. “The fuck you’re going?” he yelled, then reached into his pants and pulled out his cock with was a good fifteen inches long.

The audience gasped.

Miss Honeywell gasped. “….look at the size of that thing..!” she said, and the drool was flowing more freely now, dripping down into her massive cleavage.

Cynthia only had time for one more… “I want to go home!” before her took her face and slammed it down hard on his cock. His cock must have gone so far down her throat that she instantly choked. It was nearly half her overall height, after all. She struggled…. Kind of…. But he just slammed her face into his cock again and again and again….

The audience was really whooping and hollering now, on their feet, cheering, laughing….! “Fuck her!” they chanted. “Fuck the slut! Fuck the slut! Fuck the slut!”

Blood poured from her mouth as Deondre’s cock kept going back and forth, and her eyes rolled back. She was now just a lifeless little ragdoll that he proceeded to fuck until cum came spewing out of his cock and filled her up so that white cum came from her nose and her ears.

He then tossed the lifeless child away like a piece of trash. He turned on Miss Honeywell, who was on the floor, rubbing herself off. “Charlie…. Tell our contestant… what he wins…. Oh!’ She crawled on her hands and knees over to Deondre and began licking up all of the spilled cum and then began sucking on his massive cock until he exploded inside of her as well.

She swallowed it all, every last drop of it. She was, after all, the hostess with the mostest.