(This story was inspired by and is a tribute to “Grocery Boy’s Helping Hand” by Omega Prime, one of my favorite erotic stories.)


Marc’s story began with an unexpected shift at work. He had gotten a call from his manager at the store asking if he could fill in after school. Marc agreed, having nothing else planned and wanting the extra spending money. At 15 the after-school job suited him well.

His shift had ended and he was ready to go home. Unfortunately his mother wasn’t answering her phone. He had tried calling three times but to no avail. He sighed deeply. Apparently he would be walking home, a fairly long walk from the store. And to make matters worse it had been raining heavily all day. As he stood there contemplating this frustrating turn of events, he heard a voic

The young squire boy trembled in fear. He had been in his cell for what seemed like an eternity. The king had ordered him to be interrogated, and he was terrified of what that might entail.

The young lad, 14 years of age, was in the service of a wealthy nobleman and landowner who was opposed to the rule of this particular king. As such, the boy was often used to deliver coded messages to others of a like mind throughout the kingdom. It was on one of these late-night missions that he had been captured by the king’s royal guard on a night patrol.

After spending a cold night in bonds, he had been brought before the king. The monarch was informed of the young squire’s clandestine mission and was presented with evidence of treason: a note on parchment written in code. The king bel

At age 14 I had the opportunity to play for a community baseball team. I
was only an average player but loved the game nonetheless. My team played a
couple times a week at the community sports park in town where there were
four baseball diamonds for local teams.

A neighbor girl on my block also played, so her mother was nice enough to
drive me home since both of my parents worked. Casey was also 14 and
played on the same team as me. Her mother came to all of her games, and we
had known each other for several years.

One day after a seven-inning game her mother was driving us home, me in the
front seat, Casey in the back. "I need to stop at the mall to pick
something up and run a couple of errands. It should take about a half hour.
I'll be quick," said Mrs. Williams.

"No p

It was the spring of my eighth-grade year and I was 14 years old. I lived
in a small rural community in the Midwest that had more farm animals than
people. And no, that is not a joke. But sarcasm aside, I really enjoyed
life in this agricultural town. People were neighborly and we all knew each
other. It was impossible to go to town without spending half your time
talking to folks and catching up on their lives.


That year I had decided to get a part-time job after school and on
weekends. There were a number of farmers and ranchers in the area that were
eager to hire teenagers to help around their properties. I landed a job
with a local cattle rancher two miles down the road from my home.


Mr. Williams, the ranch owner, was semi-retired. Over the past few years he
had gra

I love giving head. I fell in love with it in junior high and never looked back. I also like partying.

There's an abandoned office building in town that kids use for weekend
alcohol parties. Someone had taken the liberty of chiseling some holes in
some of the walls to use as glory holes. Anyone who wanted to service a
hole could anonymously volunteer. I volunteered my time frequently!

It was Friday night after a long week of school. Some kids had scheduled a Friday-night kegger at the abandoned building. I was there primarily for
the cock. And I didn't have to wait long.

I heard the door to the room open and a guy walked in. I couldn't see who
it was in the dim light, but most of the guys who attend these parties are
pretty cute, so I was excited. He knocked on the wall to

It was the end of the first week of school and life was good. At age 13 I had just started the eighth grade. Like most girls my age I liked school mainly for the social interaction. I had a lot of friends and enjoyed being around them during the school day. This first week had allowed me to reconnect with some less-close friends that I didn’t really see over the summer.

It was late Friday night. Mom and dad had gone to bed about an hour ago and were sound asleep. I had finished some homework and was doing some late-night texting with my friends. My 17-year-old brother Dylan had been out late at a party. Our parents were more lenient with my brother than with me. I know I’m young, but I wouldn’t be allowed to attend a party like he could.

As I finished up my last text with m