Chapter 1

It is true that Wally World is a fertile hunting ground for young girls. It is also true that weekends around the first of the month are the best times for finding approachable young girls. You can sit and look at the single moms standing in line at the state HRS (Florida Department of Health & Rehabilitative Services) office, waiting for the debit cards the state uses in place of a check to be recharged, and then watch them as they get into their beat up cars and caravan right down to the nearest Wally World store. It's amazing how quickly those debit cards return to a zero balance. I know all that because I am a senior associate at that local Wally World store.

My specialty is store security. Look up sometime when you next visit Wally World. See those opaque half globes on the ceiling. Smile when you look up because someone is probably watching you. In my store it will be me or someone who works for me. The stores are bigger now and security has gotten even tighter. I know I don't catch every thief but I do catch an average of three a day committing some major store infraction, most of them stealing. I could tell you some stories about that, but they are not this story.

No, my story is about young girls. Watching a bank of monitors would get very boring without young girls. I enjoy a wide variety of young females, but I especially like those between 11 and 17 with long straight hair. The longer the hair, the better I like it. I prefer them with slender hips that are just beginning to swell. I especially enjoy small tits, from nubbins to small 'coffee-cup' size, displayed without a bra in a tank top or in a thin T-shirt. Some of these girls are already young welfare mommas themselves, pushing their shopping carts around with a baby in the cart seat. My absolute favorite girls are somewhere in the middle of all of this, you know, young and slender 13 to 15 year-old girls, wasp-waisted, with tits little more than swollen nipples, long legs and just the beginnings of tiny bubble butts. My ideal girl also sports long, long, dirty blonde hair. That's a pretty specific description, but in my store alone, I might see 10 to 15 girls coming pretty close to that description each day.

Sometimes these young girls are following what Professor VanHorn, the main character in Wally World Daddy, called a trailer-trash mommy. These mommas are exactly as VanHorn described them, usually fat or rough-looking, aged too soon from years of living on the edge. This rough life has etched ugly lines into their faces and turned their hair prematurely gray. The younger mommas of this group always seem to have several large prominent tattoos. These mommas are usually the only adult leading an entourage of between two and five poorly-dressed kids down the aisle. Usually at least one of these kids will be primo young girl fantasy material.

From my vantage point, I can zoom right in on these kids. If the young girl is wearing a thin worn T-shirt or top, I can usually zoom close enough to see her nipples either through the thin material or down the neck. When that happens, my cock hardens and I drop whatever else I'm doing to follow that group. I follow them hoping that someone in the group will try to score something with a five-finger discount. At that time, I can sequester the entire group and sometimes even spend time alone interrogating the young girls one on one. Also, while following the group, I note the interests of the girls. Many times this is the same stuff: new country or rock CDs, DVDs of recently released movies, video games, clothes and even toys. Although each girl has slightly different tastes, most are conditioned by peers to want the same things.

I noticed that a lot of what Professor VanHorn explained in the story is true in the real world. As I said, most of these welfare mommas have no welfare daddies. VanHorn's profile of his target young girls was similar enough to mine and he specifically searched for families without fathers. He expressed the idea that these fatherless young girls almost always seek male attention, and are especially eager for older male attention. I have no reason to believe this is not true.

The professor visited Wally World on welfare check weekends for almost a year before he found his Lolita. It was much simpler and quicker for me, observing from above, especially as I was well paid to do that. Also, my job gave me an opportunity to approach almost any girl I was interest in. I had to be selective, but I was able to learn the best approach from simple trial and error. I realized that even in my position, this could be a dangerous sport, and I was very careful never to go too far with any girl.

In the back of my mind I was working towards what I considered to be The VanHorn Challenge, to find a young girl and be able to take her home to live with me as Professor VanHorn did in Wally World Daddy. I would be that young girl's lover-daddy-mentor. I lived alone in a large one-story ranch style house, typical of this part of Florida, on ten acres outside of town, so once I got her there I would have plenty of privacy. Still I knew that the only way this would work would be with both the mother's and daughter's consent and cooperation.

As they say in the Bar-b-cue business, that is the rub. I couldn't rely on VanHorn's technique, because how many young girls really want to go fishing with an older man, father-figure or not? The great thing was that I could see everything from my vantage point even though I couldn't hear anything. All I really needed was to have visual evidence of either the mother, daughter, or both shoplifting.

I also knew that I could use the video and some intimidation to panic them into believing that the situation was even more serious than it was. First time adult shoplifters were actually likely to only get a small fine and possibly community service, not even a night in the local jail. Children were usually released into the custody of their parents. In the rare case that both the parent and child were involved, and I had seen that happen before, the child usually went to HRS until after the court date.

I have a lot of discretion in the exercise of my responsibilities. Although Wally World has a stated policy that all shoplifters are prosecuted, that is not necessarily the case. All prosecutions are based upon solid evidence, which is why we have the cameras in the first place. In those cases where the evidence is not quite airtight, the suspected shoplifters are confronted with their actions and the possibility of prosecution in order to deter them from further shoplifting attempts. The decision to prosecute is my decision. For me, it is an ideal situation. I am the first judge that decides, based upon my experience, who goes to jail. My job is contingent upon pursuing only airtight cases and keeping store losses to a minimum by putting the fear of God into those that I might suspect are shoplifting. As long as the store's losses remain acceptable I have unlimited discretion and almost no supervision. The only caveat is that I have to make the right decisions.

The day I found my Lolita, I was almost ready to take my morning break. I had thought about chatting up Judy, a young girl recently hired in the shoe department. Before leaving I glanced at the monitors for one last cycle. Each section of the store has its own monitor, and each monitor cycles through several cameras. I was glancing at the monitor for the grocery section when I spotted them. Their shabby, cheap clothing told me they were possibly welfare poor.

The mother's coal black hair was unevenly cut and obviously unkempt. Her gray T-shirt was threadbare; any message it once carried had long been obliterated by countless washings. The T-shirt was so thin that the black bra underneath was plainly evident, even before I zoomed the camera in for a closer look. Her black shorts strained against her corpulent ass to the point that the some stitching in the seams had given way. She moved slowly as if pushing the almost empty cart was a tremendous burden.

I spent very little time looking at the mother, though, because of the two young girls trailing her. Both girls sported unevenly cut, dirty blonde hair that hung well past their shoulders. The oldest was about 5'2", and very thin. Her white threadbare T-shirt fit tightly around firm, bra-less breasts that bore the shape and size of an overly large scoop of ice cream. As I looked closer I could see dark circles about the size of the new dollars coins where her nipples pressed tightly against the thin material. The worn, tight T-shirt revealed a slim waist fronted by a flat stomach. Her cut-off jeans were tight in the ass and yet loose on her legs.