Chapter 1

Aran typed the last of the numbers into the compiler, and stretched his shoulders back, listening to his spine crack as he straightened it from its stoop. He stabbed a forefinger against the Enter key, the data speeding from his workstation down fibre optic cables to a nearby University supercomputer. He glanced at his watch; it was late but not as late as he thought he would be. Logging off his workstation he slipped back into his lab coat, donned the regulation safety specs and gave the surrounding machinery a quick once over. The status lights were reading green and nothing seemed out of place.

Slamming his pass against the door to open it, he flicked off the lights and headed towards his locker where he hung up his lab coat, glasses slipped into a breast pocket, replacing it with his own outdoor one. Briskly he made his way down the corridor towards the reception at the front of the building, swiping his way through various fire and security doors as he went.

The security guard on station at the reception desk nodded to him and Aran nodded back as his exit time was duly noted down on the log. It was raining steadily and Aran pulled up his collar and dashed to his car, all by its self in the staff car park. He hurriedly opened the door fumbling in his coat pocket for the keys. He never locked it on site, no point he reckoned, what with the high security level on the research site and the fact that the car was a piece of shit in which being stolen was probably the best thing that could happen to it. That and being crushed.

The diesel begrudgingly coughed into life and the car kangarooed its way into first gear, the windscreen fogging up purely to spite the heater and the cars supposed heated windscreen. Approaching the security hut at the main gate, Aran slowed down, dipped his lights and rolled down his window. One of the gate guards looked up from whatever it was they did in there, waved, reached over, hit something and the gate in front started to roll back. Aran waved back and exited the research facility.

God he was hungry. And tired. Not as tired as the car, it turned out, which after five miles, coughed unhelpfully a few times then stopped.

“Fucks sake!” Aran pulled out his phone, flicked through a few numbers till he found the one he wanted “Paul? I need a favour, yes the ‘piece of shit’ is living up to its name, can I get a tow? Brilliant!” Aran supplied his location, and settled down to wait.

He hadn’t realised he had nodded off until a horn blast woke him. Rubbing his eyes, he opened the car door and stepped out. It was still raining. His best mate since University reversed his car up the front of Arans and climbed out, laughing as he did so.

“Why don’t you just put everyone out of their misery and torch the fucking thing?”

They clasped forearms “Cheers Paul for coming out.” Paul opened his boot and retrieved a tow rope and towed Aran home.

Between them they managed to manhandle the car into a conveniently empty space in front of Arans flat. Aran offered a coffee which Paul gladly accepted. They stood in the kitchen and savoured the coffee, unheeding of the wet drips that dropped to the kitchen floor.

“Must be the big day soon?”

“Just entered the last calculations tonight. I can’t wait. Professor Grange is becoming a fucking nightmare. ‘Do this, do that, and do this as well. And I want it all done yesterday’...”

“Well, it’s her life’s work and it’s cost a shit load of money. There is a lot riding on it. And her. She must have her share of pressure.”

“Yeah well, I’m fed up of the 18 hour days. God, I’ve not been to the gym or training in weeks. I really need to beat the shit out of someone. Let off some steam.”

“Got your black yet?”

“Nah, not had the time to train for the assessment let alone take it. It’s pissing me off. And now the car...”

There was a companionable silence as they both drank. Paul waved his mug towards the window.

“What are you going to do tomorrow?”

Aran shrugged “I’ll have to phone a taxi.”

“You know how I am going on holiday...”

“Like you only remind me every time we speak, you cunt...”

“Stop interrupting. You know how I’m going on holiday, well if you run me home tonight, pick me up tomorrow morning for work, take me home to pick up my bags tomorrow night, and drop me off at the airport, you can borrow my motor till I get back.”

“And avoid paying having to pay airport car park charges or taxi fares...”

“That as well...” They both laughed.

“Cheers Paul.” Paul waved a hand dismissing the thanks, “no seriously, thanks.” Aran replied gratefully.

“On that note, taxi bitch, ferry me to my abode...” Laughing, they dumped their mugs in the sink and left the flat. Outside, Aran naturally made his way to the passenger side.

“Oi, bitch!” Aran looked over and Paul threw his keys at him. “Wrong side.”

He was dead tired as he entered the flat, throwing Pauls car keys onto the table in the kitchen, but to wound up for sleep. He walked into his bedroom, stripping as he went. His computer was crammed into the room hardly leaving any room for the swivel chair. He fired it up, logging into the TOR network. Moving the mouse into his favourites, he clicked on his favourite teen porn site. Flicking through the forum, he looked at the newest uploaded pictures, his limp cock rapidly hardening as he looked at the pictures of a naked fourteen year old girl. There was video with the post and he downloaded it in the background, typing in the password when prompted to when it finished downloading and unzipped.

Unusually, the girl spoke with an English accent, not an American or Russian one, as was usually the case. That made it all more erotic for him, as he imagined it as a girl nearby, or even next door.

“Open your mouth for daddy.” The girl did so. “Suck daddy’s cock.” The girl moved closer and knelt. The image twisted and turned, hinting that the footage was most probably taken by a mobile phone. A large pot belly came into view, covered densely in coarse hair. The camera was jostled some more and a small deflated cock almost hidden by a thick dense patch of pubic hair, became barely visible. Aran laughed aloud, but continued to stroke his own, considerably larger cock. The girl took the tiny thing in-between equally tiny fingers and guided it towards her open mouth. Aran studied her body as the view shook and moved in and out of focus. She was truly beautiful. Not too skinny, not too pudgy and not yet possessing the full curves of womanhood. A light thatch of hair between her legs and puffy nipples that sat on a flat, almost boyish chest. Aran felt his body finally relax as arousal built within him.

“Do you like daddies cock?” The girl looked up and nodded her head. “No, you gotta say it.”

The girl let the cock, which had grown considerably, slip from her mouth.

“I love Daddies cock.”

“And do you love daddies cum?”

She bobbed her head again. “I loooove daddies cum...”

“You’re such a slut.” The girl giggled and sucked the man’s cock back into her mouth.

“You’re such a slut.” Mimicked Aran as he stroked himself. The girl sucked and handled the man’s cock with a dexterity and confidence that implied that this was by no means her first time. He glanced at the preview picture that came with the download pic on the forum. The picture was an amalgamation of smaller pictures, showing the girl in various possess and positions. Some of the pictures revealing that the video would show her invaded not just orally, but anally and vaginally.

“Little slut...” He whispered as the man pulled out from her mouth, stroked himself and erupted in front of her face. The man had obviously been aiming for the girl’s open and ready mouth, but most of his cum went over her nose and eyes, with just one spurt going into her mouth. The girl didn’t flinch at the poor aim. “Oh fuck yes, “grunted Aran as his cock and muscles twitched in response and his own cum splattered up his chest.

“Suck daddies cock clean.” Instructed the man in the video, as his cock disappeared back into the young girls’ mouth, his cum running down her face.

Aran paused then closed the video viewer as he wiped up his own semen with a tissue from a box kept next to his monitor for just that purpose. He made a mental note to watch the rest the following night.

Closing the forum, he logged on to his usual chatroom. He quickly scanned the list of those currently on that was down the right hand side of the main chatroom, but none of his usual chat buddies were on. He looked to see if his pal ‘Fairy Princess’ was on, but his profile page revealed that he hadn’t logged on for a week. Which surprised Aran. The last time they had chatted, FP had revealed that he had stopped to pick up a female hitchhiker. Spur of the moment thing. Only to find out that the girl was a lot younger than he had first thought, and that he thought she was a runaway, judging by the dirt and the obvious young age. He had invited her back to his house, offering her the use of his bathroom and kitchen, not really expecting her to accept. She had. And furthermore had not rebuked his advances when his hands had ‘accidentally’ brushed across her somewhat flat chest...

Aran looked back at the chat history. “She’s a skinny thing; don’t think she’s eaten for days. I showed her the bathroom, and the bedroom” Aran had seen pictures of the ‘bedroom’, it was done up like a young girls bedroom, complete with boy band posters on the wall. The duvet had a picture of ‘Elsa’ from Frozen on it. Large stuffed animals were dotted around the room and next to the pillow. There was a large dresser down one side; pictures Fairy Princess had previously posted had revealed the drawers filled with more young girls’ pants than a young girl could conceivably need in a lifetime. Or at least, in the time that she would be of a size to wear them. “And she didn’t bat an eye, not even when I picked out a short black pleated skirt, white blouse, ruffled ankle socks and some nice pink panties for her to wear after her shower.”

Aran re-read his disbelieving retort that he was full of shit.

“No, no, no! I’m in love! When we left the room, her room now, I reached a hand round as she was in front. She is so skinny that the jeans she was wearing hung loose on her hips, my hand easily slid down her stomach and on under the waistband of her jeans. She just stopped and let me touch her. Didn’t move or stop me, even when I touched her through her panties. I swear her breathing sped up when I slipped my fingers under her panties and touched her little hairy cunt!”

“And she just let you finger her?” He still disbelieved him, even after a week.

“Yes! I’m hard as fuck as I type this. I’m so going to fuck her little brains out when she comes out. In fact, the shower has stopped!”

“You are so full of shit...”

“No, no, no! Seriously! Look, I snapped some cheeky photo’s on my phone as she was going up the stairs.”

“Bullshit...”

“Look I’ll send them to you...”

There was a pause in the chat, followed by two grainy mobile phone pictures of what appeared to be a young girl, it was hard to make out exactly, due to the poor light and the fact that the pictures had obviously been taken clandestinely. The face did look a bit dirty, that which could be seen through the hair. Dark hair which contained a striking red slash through it.

“She’s looks cute ... what little of her I can see anyway, bit skinny though.”

“She’s coming down the stairs.”

“Yeah yeah, pull the other one...”

“Holy fuck!!!”

“What?”

“She’s wearing what I gave her!!! Fuck! She’s fucking beautiful!! Her hair is still wet, and her blouse is damp, it’s sticking to her chest, I can see her nips! Fuck! Those socks! Sorry mate, got to go.”

:chat terminated:

Aran looked at the message he sent the next night. “Well Fairy Princess, how was she?” And the one he sent the next night “FP?” He wondered if maybe FP was telling the truth. If he was in his position, he certainly wouldn’t be loitering around chatrooms when he could be balls deep in young pussy. He shut down his computer and after a quick shower, went to bed.

Dutifully, the next morning he dropped by Pauls and took him to his work, then made his way to his own. Professor Grange was not best pleased that he had to leave early to take Paul to the airport but was satisfied with the promise that he would be in early tomorrow to make up for it.

Pulling up at the airport drop off, Aran turned to his best mate “Send me a postcard”.

“What? Fuck that! I’m going to be too pissed, or too covered in dripping pussy, or both, to send you some shitty post card...”

“Fair one. Safe trip”. Aran waited for Paul to get his bag out the back then pulled back out into the traffic stream, one eye on the cars clock so as not to run foul of the camera’s enforcing the strict drop off time.

There were no free spaces to park in front of his flat and he was forced to park Paul’s car in a surrounding street. Inside his flat he pulled a ready meal out of the freezer, stabbed it with a fork and stuffed it into the microwave. As the microwave hummed and crackled he fired up his desktop.

There was still no word from ‘Fairy Princess’ and his profile still stated that he hadn’t logged on for a week. “Fucking hell FP, the poor girl isn’t going to be able to walk if you keep this up.” He fantasised asking FP for his address, going round, and sampling the girl for himself. The microwave in the kitchen beeped in readiness as Aran daydreamed of sliding his hard cock into the girl as FP either slid into her mouth or backdoor at the same time.

He shovelled the ready meal down his throat and chucked the container into the bin. “Jammy fucker, his own sex slave.” He stripped off his clothes as he wandered back into his bedroom. Loading up the video he downloaded the previous night, Aran skipped through the bit where the girl blew her father. He wondered briefly if it indeed was her father. The girl looked too relaxed and comfortable with him, for the man to be anything other than a family member or a close friend of the family. He pressed play.

“Lie down, scoot closer to the edge, that’s it” The girl was smiling on a bed, brief shots of the man as the camera angle swung about haphazardly, showing that he was already erect. The girl giggled as the man moved her thighs apart, zooming the phone onto her trimmed pussy for a moment then zooming back out again. He spread her pussy lips apart with a forefinger and thumb, zooming back in again, the auto focus on the phone struggling to keep up with all the movement. For a brief moment the phone caught, with perfect clarity, the girls’ sex in close up. Her little clit, the tender pink flush of her inner flesh, the dark hole leading deeper inside.

The camera view swung wildly about again, steadying on his cock. It wasn’t long or particularly thick. He nestled it up against her pussy, rubbing it up and down a few times before pushing against her entrance. He must have pushed to quickly as she yelped, her hands flying up to push against his prodigious beer belly.

“It’s okay.” He moved her hands away, and after a moments pause, pushed forward again. Aran watched the skin of the man’s cock slowly slide inside the girl until all was hidden by his pubes. “Oh yes ... take all of daddies cock.”. His cock started to reappear as he pulled back out. The camera focused on the thrusting cock for a moment, and then jerkily panned back out. The girl lay flat on the bed, legs hanging over the edge, a big smile across her face.

A male hand moved into view, the camera followed the fingers as they moved to her right nipple. The two fingers that had previously spread her apart for the camera, pinched her nipple. “What sweet little nipples.” The man pulled on the nipple pulling the flesh and forming a small breast. The girl slapped the hand away.

“Ow! That hurt.” She pouted as the man laughed in the background.

Aran smiled himself, as he slowly stroked his hard cock. She was sweet and innocent. He imagined that she was lying down in front of him, and it was his cock that was sliding in and out. He didn’t think he would last. During university he had slept with plenty of girls, all over the age of 18, one had even been over 30, old enough almost to be his mother. But never in his life had he slept with anyone under eighteen. Although he fantasised doing so often, he didn’t think he could ever stoop so low. Even with a teen as apparently willing as the one in the video. The girl on his monitor had her head tilted back on the bed and was letting out little groans of pleasure. Aran wasn’t even sure a fourteen year old girl could get pleasure from what was being doing to her. If she was faking it, she was doing a bloody good job.

The man on the video was doing some groaning of his own and the camera view moved from the girls face and upper chest and focused on the meat pumping in and out of her.

“Here is comes baby!”

The man pulled fully out and started to quickly wank himself off. After a few strokes, he groaned and with spasmodic twitching, white cum spurted forth to splatter all across the girls’ pussy. The man squeezed out the last few drops, spreading the slimy fluid across her pussy lips with the tip of his cock. After he had smeared his cum all across her pussy he pushed the tip back inside her, then the rest of his cock, coating the inside of her as well. After a couple of- almost possessive- strokes he pulled back out.

“Time to clean up daddy!” The camera panned back out as the girl sat up with a wide smile, heedless of the mess around her pussy. She looked directly into the phone camera.

“Yes daddy.” Without any hesitation, she slipped the man’s spent, cum covered cock, into her mouth and started sucking.

“That’s a good girl...”

Aran erupted himself as he watched her clean up the man with her mouth. He reached for the box of tissues and cleaned himself up. She was definitely a hot little chick. He looked at the counter on the video. He was two thirds of the way through it. Going by the preview pic, the next bit was her being done anally. He stopped the video, he would watch the rest tomorrow night. He wasn’t a fan really of anal. He had tried it a couple of times when he had slept with a girl willing to try it, but it wasn’t really his thing, and going by the body language of the girls, it wasn’t really their thing either.

Bearing in mind that he had promised to be in earlier tomorrow, he showered and went to bed early, drifting off to sleep with the fantasy that the girl in the video was his daughter, and that it was his cock that she worshipped.

His phone vibrated and chimed on the stand and he blearily slid his feet out of the bed and stood, taking a minute to rub the sleep from his eyes and stretch is back before turning off the phones alarm.

Aran dressed quickly, running a hand through his hair. Breakfast consisted of some chocolate biscuits and a glass of orange squash.

It was raining outside, and he turned up the collar of his coat and hunched his neck as he walked past his car. There was something going on at the far end of the street, figures loitering around the back of some un-marked builders’ type vans. Probably some dodgy drug deal he mused, though the area actually had a remarkably low crime rate. In the next street he slipped into Paul’s car, and unlike his own, it started without trouble. He checked the mirrors, indicated and pulled out. As he passed the entrance to his street, two marked police cars with just their side lights on, no blues, pulled up. Two vans pulled up behind, the doors of the vans opening and officers in riot gear quietly spilled out as they quickly lit cigarettes. As he drove past, he caught a sight of a solid red bar that he had seen in police shows on TV. What they amusingly called ‘the big red key’ shortly before it broke in some criminals’ door.

He glanced at the police as they milled about in his rear view mirror. “Some drug dealer is about to get a rude awakening,” he laughed. Aran wasn’t the only one watching the police goings on; he spotted a small, slim figure lurking next to some bushes out of the glare of the streetlights watching intently the movements of the police officers. The cars headlights briefly illuminated the figure as he drove past. He was past the figure and turning down another street before his brain registered what he had seen. He thought he had caught a flash of a young girl with long black hair broken with a red slash. He slowed down, considered turning round, then decided that he was just tired, and that his brain was still half asleep. Aran pushed harder on the accelerator and put the girl out of his mind, he had other, more important things to worry about.

As he pulled into the private road, he opened the glove box and lifted out the large car pass. Strictly speaking he should get a new one for Paul’s car, but he reckoned no-one would actually check to see that the registration on the car matched that of the pass. Aran’s picture was on the front along with his department and contact details. He placed it on the dash in front of the steering wheel as he slowed down as he approached the security gate. A guard in the little hut looked up and returned Aran’s wave. As he waited for the security gate to roll back, he fiddled with Paul’s radio and deliberately retuned all the radio channel pre-sets to Classic FM.

He parked up in his designated spot, and locked the car, just in case, since it wasn’t his. The receptionist was in, which was surprising given the time. The night guard was helping her sort out temporary ID badges on a table. One of the departments must be having a VIP show and sell. Or maybe one of the financial backers was stopping by to check on the progress of their millions. The night guard looked up but ignored Aran when his ID allowed him through the security turnstiles.

Swiping himself through all the security doors, he stopped by the lab to power up all the machinery and awaken the sleeping computers. He checked the readouts on the various screens against the numbers on the clip board he removed from the wall. All readings were within parameters. He ticked the various boxes on the sheet, annotated his name, signed the sheet and hung the clipboard back up on the wall. He headed to the staff lockers, opened his, donned his lab coat, slipped on his safety glasses and removed his mobile phone from his person and placed it in the locker. Technically he should have done that first before entering the lab.

Next, he moved to the staff canteen, turned on the lights and, most importantly, the coffee machine, loading a fresh filter and granules. He topped up the water reservoir and washed out the mugs. He lifted the TV remote and switched it on. Someone had left it on a local news channel and he was about to change it when the background caught his eye. It was his street. He unmuted the volume.

“carried out a series of early morning raids across the county this morning. The operation, part of the larger UK wide, ‘Operation Safe Harbour’, saw the targeted arrest of members of various paedophile rings operating across the country. It is hoped the arrest of individuals involved and the intelligence gained, will lead to further arrests and the future safeguarding of children deemed to be at risk...”

It felt as though someone had slit open his stomach and all his guts had just fallen out. His head swam as he felt instantly lightheaded as though he had just looked over a precipice. Maybe it was someone else in the block of flats, another house in the street possibly, he told himself. Just to prove him wrong, uniformed officers started to leave his building carrying large clear plastic bags with ‘evidence’ stamped across them in big red letters. The news camera man zoomed in on the bags and Aran clearly made out the outline of his desktop tower in one of them, and the assorted stickers it had gained through University, just visible through the plastic.

The police loaded the bags into the back of the unmarked vans that he had seen earlier.

The reporter was continuing to speak, but Aran was hearing nothing. Flashing blue lights in the dark beyond the canteen windows slowly dragged his vision away from the television. Several police cars, blue lights flashing, had pulled up at the security hut.

Aran saw his life crumble before his eyes. He hadn’t even encrypted his hard drive. He had just lost his job and his career. All gone in an instant. He would never work in tech again. His University debt would multiply out of control whilst he was in prison, and he knew he would serve time. His friends would distance themselves from him in a heartbeat, as would probably his family. The lawyers’ fees alone would probably bankrupt him. He was a pariah. He was a dead man walking. A small voice in the back of his mind pointed out that his mixed martial arts training, would probably stand him in good stead inside. He didn’t want to serve time. He looked at the knives in the tray next to the forks on the counter. Not certain enough.

Mind made up, he raced to the lab. He slammed his pass against the sensor and the door lock clicked open. He pushed open the door and ran inside. He went straight to the main control and ripped off all the safety tags and removed the cut-out locks. As the machinery warmed up and the capacitors charged, he lifted some plastic tie-wraps and secured the two lab door handles together. He didn’t have time to secure the large roller doors that allowed access to the lab from the outside.

Back at the main computer control panel, he maxed all the power values and typed a short delay into the control. The computer kept asking for command override and he kept overriding them, glad that he knew Professor Grange’s override code, supposedly to be used for fault checking only. The humming of stored energy grew louder and the array of magnets started to slowly rotate. He set the last timer and skipped between the slowly rotating magnets to sit in the middle. The magnets slowly picked up speed and he could feel the pull on the fillings in his teeth, his hair slowly rising at the surrounding electrical charge.

The device had been built to further research into quantum displacement, to research the possibility of quantum travel, amongst other theories, the magnets part of an elaborate system required to help pull sub atomic particles apart. That had been the theory; this was just a test rig to see if the maths and the theory matched practical possibility. The equipment powered down long before quantum displacement threatened to become reality. If the test rig proved the maths right, then another rig would have to be built, one that could withstand the forces at play, and preferably somewhere safe should things go, awry.

Pain was building fast inside him and Aran gritted his teeth. “If you are going to go, go with style...” He growled, and then screamed as his flesh was ripped asunder.

Professor Grange looked up from her laptop as the walls started humming. She liked to get in early and deal with the departmental paperwork before the bean counters got to their own desks and started to pester everyone with stupid and needless questions.

“What the hell?” She quickly rose from her desk and moved out into the corridor. Other heads were popping out of doors, each with quizzical looks.

“I didn’t think you were doing test runs this morning Mary?”

“I’m not!” She growled and stormed off down the corridor, A few curious senior researchers following at careful distance.

As she got closer to her lab, her pace quickened to such an extent that as she drew near she was doing so at a run. She tried to open the lab doors but they refused, the glass in the observation windows rattling, spider webs of cracks forming across the toughened glass. Cold dread swept through her and she abandoned her attempts to open the doors. She ran back down the corridor to the mains junction boxes up near the ceiling and pulled on all the safety levers, cutting all the mains power to the labs. The lights immediately plunged out with the exception of the low voltage emergency lighting which kicked in as it was on a feed separate to the labs. But the noise and shaking did not abate.

“What’s going on?” Asked a researcher from an adjoining lab.

Professor Grange, Mary, to exactly three people in the entire facility, looked back through the cracking windows into her lab.

“Resonance cascade. RUN!!!”

The two security guards looked up as the darkness outside was torn asunder by the strobing of blue lights.

“That’s ... unusual.” They watched as two police cars and a van pulled up at the guardhouse, several police getting out, the lead one brandishing a wad of papers.

“I have here the arrest warrant for one Aran Howard!”

The security guard peered at the documents through the security glass as his colleague muttered “Whoopee fucking do.” quietly behind him.

“We have reason to believe he works here, is he on site?”

The security guard typed the name into his terminal, not that he needed to, as he had seen him enter a few hours previous. The terminal confirmed what he already knew, that Aran was already on site and, according to the chip in his security pass, was currently located in his lab. He looked up at the police officer. The security guard had been stopped for speeding last week, fixed penalty for being five miles an hour over the speed limit. The twats.