Robbie: Prologue: The Idol

Robert had been beaten up by life. At age 57 he was tired and wishing for something better. One night while walking his dog, he got what he wished.

This is my first story published to this site. In order to make this story work, I needed to lay some background so the reader can better understand the character of Robbie and how he came to be. There is no sex in this chapter, though there is a briefly mentioned interrupted masturbation. This is, unfortunately, necessary in order to make the rest of the chapters work. I promise, there will be all kinds of depravity to come, if you will pardon the pun. Please, read this chapter even though you won’t get off by doing so. It is important. Finally, needless to say, this is a work of fiction. Pure fantasy from my depraved mind. Please do NOT attempt to do anything depicted in this story as you will end up fantasizing about my stories from a prison cell whilst being fucked by King Con and his buddies. There is a vast difference between fantasy and reality. While you and I and everyone reading these stories may fantasize about these acts, actually performing them can cause irreparable damage to others. Just don’t do it.

At age 57, Robert was getting worn down. He had lived a hard life from being physically and sexually abused as a child, to fighting in Desert Storm and even ending up in prison because of his predilection for young girls. Because he was now a registered sex offender, it made hunting for young girls very difficult. He hadn’t enjoyed the sweet nubile pussy of a 12-year-old in almost 20 years. The opportunities simply weren’t there for him anymore.

He tried the local malls, but kids just don’t hang out there like they did in his youth. They are all about the virtual life now. If it doesn’t get them a “like” they aren’t interested in it. Walking around with their noses in their phones they were simply missing out on all the world has to offer them. It is no wonder why children are so maladjusted these days. Everyone needing to be a victim of something or changing their orientation identity almost daily and convincing each other that they are things which they aren’t. One would think this environment of social dysfunction would make hunting easier. But it has had the opposite effect with youths hyper aware of sexual misconduct by adults and very eager to yell about anyone who so much as looks at them cross-eyed.

The paranoia of the country now also made it difficult to even take a long-term approach to grooming children. If one smiles at a child now, they are looked upon as sexual predators, the child whisked away from the potential pedophile.

Even that word has been misused so much, people think that everyone who looks at children or molests children is a pedophile. Robert, on the other hand, knows the difference between a pedo, hebe and an indiscriminate offender. He is an indiscriminate offender. Sure, he likes them young, but he also likes women, boys and, on occasion, men. If he is being honest with himself, though, he knows that his ultimate preference is young girls between ages 10 and 14.

He often wished that he had been born in this time rather than in the 1960’s. Sure, he would have missed out on a lot of great things like watching the moon landing, Nixon’s Watergate scandal or the great music of the 80’s. However, if he were a young boy or girl of today, he knew he could use their predisposition toward dysfunction to his favor and would be savoring young pussy and cock all he wanted.

One evening, as he was engaging in one of his favorite past-times of window peeping using the need to walk his dog as cover, he was making his way through an alley behind an apartment complex where he knew of some children who were often careless about leaving their curtains open while they readied themselves for bed. He had often passed by these windows and caught a brief glimpse of a fresh young girl in a state of undress or, a few times, completely naked. Once, he even spotted a girl who looked to be about 11 masturbating in front of her mirror. He paused only for a few seconds to watch before moving on. He didn’t want to get caught, after all. The last thing he needed was to return to prison with another sex offense.

This evening, though, as he was walking through the alley, it appeared he was not going to be so lucky. All the curtains were drawn. This had the adverse effect of making the alley darker than usual. Being an unpaved alley, the ground was uneven and he found himself stumbling a few times. Just as he was about to exit the alley onto the crossing street, his foot kicked something wooden into the street. Curious, he continued toward it and picked it up. It looked like some sort of wooden idol. Something you would see in one of those adventure movies about that archeologist treasure hunter with the whip.
Regarding it further, he found it to be mostly unremarkable, perhaps some souvenir gift discarded by a careless child. He thought maybe he could take it home and do a little work on it to make it more appealing. Maybe then offer it on some online marketplace or auction house. Might be able to get a few bucks out of it.

Looking at his smart watch, he noticed it was time to get back home. Stuffing the idol into his pocket, he tugged on the dog’s leash and told him it was time to go. At home, he unleashed the dog who promptly jumped up on the couch curling up to nap. Robert took out the idol from his pocket to examine it again in better light. It looked much like a Moai head with breasts and ancient Aztec style headdress. Definitely a strange gift to give someone. With its mix of disparate cultures, it was no wonder some child likely threw it away. However, with a little sanding and some paint, it could look pretty nice.

He went to his tool cabinet pulling out some fine sandpaper to give it a quick once-over before he joined his wife in bed. As he began gently sanding the idol, he felt a wave of vertigo sweep over him. He began to fall as the world went dark.

Consciousness slowly awakened Robert. With his eyes still closed, he tried to piece together the last things he remembered. Something wasn’t right, though. His mind seemed to be… different somehow. What were these memories of people he didn’t know doing in his mind? He began to realize that something else wasn’t right. He was in a bed. How did he get to his bed? Opening his eyes, he froze at what he saw. He was NOT in his bed. He was in a strange room. Moving his head slightly, he surveyed the room quickly. It was a child’s room. Probably a boy by the looks of the space ships, sports posters and clothes strewn around the room.

He had to get out of here fast! What the hell happened? How did he end up in some strange boy’s bed? Where was the boy? Panicking, he threw off the blankets covering him and threw his legs over the side of the bed, looking for any escape. There was a window. Maybe he could jump out of it and run away before anyone saw him.

That was when he noticed that his feet barely touched the floor while he was sitting on the bed. What the fuck? He moved the legs just to make sure he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. Yes, those were HIS legs. He looked at his hands. They were so small. Standing up, he realized he was closer to the ground than he was used to being.

“A mirror! I need a mirror!” he said out loud to himself. This was far too inconceivable to grasp! His mind was reeling trying to comprehend what his senses were telling him was truth but his mind was denying as impossible. He looked down at himself noticing he was wearing only a pair of tighty-whities.

“I am young,” he whispered to himself, finally allowing his brain to accept what he saw.

Looking around, he spied a mirror on the back of a door, which he presumed must lead to the rest of the house. He looked at his reflection in the mirror as he approached the door. It was remarkable. He was about 12 years old. He was not too large nor was he too small. He was about average and was just on the cusp of developing into a man. He had sandy brown hair, a fair complexion though he noticed a few blemishes where there were some old pimples healing. His eyes were a deep blue. His nose was almost perfect. He smiled admiring the pearly white teeth that were a little gapped between his incisors but otherwise fine.

His eyes trailed down his body’s reflection. His chest was still somewhat flat though showing signs of being ready to develop. His stomach was flat but still had a little baby fat making it hard to see the six pack underneath. His gaze stopped at the underwear. That was a larger bulge than one would expect from a boy about 12 years old. Suddenly, a memory flashed through his mind. He was, in fact, 11. He has an upcoming birthday next month. His name is, quite fortunately for him, Robbie. Robbie Hawkins.

Putting his finger inside the band of his underwear, he pulled the elastic away from his stomach. What he saw was impressive. Remembering when he was 11 decades ago, his cock wasn’t anywhere near as big as this kid’s was. He reached in and grabbed the smooth, almost hairless member. It responded just as he remembered it would getting hard almost immediately. Robert guessed it to be about five inches long and about as thick as one of those hot dogs that plump when you cook it. Unable to resist, he stroked this new penis of his savoring the amazing feelings that only come with a young cock.
A knock from the other side of the door abruptly brought him back to reality.

“Are you awake, honey,” a female voice called from the other side. That was his… mother? This was going to take a lot of adjustment. Her name is Anne. His father’s name was Frank but he died in a motorcycle accident a few years ago. He has a sister named Emily. She is a year younger than he is.

“Um, yeah. Mom.” He responded to the disembodied voice.

Wait! That would make her 10 years old. This sudden realization made Robert/Robbie smile. This may turn out just fine after all.

“Hurry up. Breakfast is almost ready and you don’t want to miss the bus,” the voice called out from the other side of the door.

“Um, okay, mom. Be ready in a flash,” he called out noticing the high pitch of his voice. Obviously still in the early years of puberty, Robert surmised.

Then the reality of the situation hit him. What about HIS body? What happened to it? Did he die? What will his wife do? His children? He looked around the room again. He saw a computer before, didn’t he? Yes, on that desk by the window. He turned it on intending to check out the obituaries. Hold on, news of his death wouldn’t be known publicly yet, if he has in fact died. He made a mental note to check online in a few days to see if he had died, assuming he was still in this body or that this wasn’t all a dream.

Meanwhile, he had to get ready for… school? It has been decades since he had last been in school.
But, at the same time, think of all the beautiful young pussy and cock he was going to have access to now…

Suddenly, Robbie couldn’t wait to get to school.

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