I leaned against the cool glass of the one-way mirror, craving the depravity of a forced age play orgy. With a flick of my wrist and a surge of crimson energy, the air in the pen shimmered and crackled. Suddenly, twenty terrified preteens materialized, their backpacks hitting the concrete with dull thuds. Across from them, thirty convicts—men who had not seen a woman in years—stood frozen, their eyes widening with predatory hunger.
The silence shattered into screams. A massive man with a scarred throat lunged forward, his thick cock already straining against the fabric of his orange jumpsuit. This was the start of a beautiful, mindless orgy. He grabbed a trembling girl by her waist, ripping her clothes away to expose her pale, shivering skin.
"Please, I want to go home!" she shrieked, her voice cracking with terror.
"Shut up and take it, brat," the convict growled, his voice a gravelly rasp.
He shoved his dick deep into her without warning, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing through the room. The girl gasped, her body arching as she was stretched open for the first time.
I watched as the room devolved into a sea of limbs and desperation. It was a symphony of first time screams and guttural moans. One boy was pinned against the wall, his small, tight asshole being explored by rough, calloused fingers before a thick shaft slammed home. The sounds were visceral: the sliding of skin, the squelching of fluids, and the frantic gasps of children discovering pleasure through pain.
"Is this what adults do?" a boy whimpered, his eyes glazed as a man's cock hammered into him.
"This is what happens when the witch decides you are toys," the man sneered, thrusting harder until the boy's breath hitched in a silent scream.
My own breath fogged the mirror. I slid my hand beneath my skirt, fingers diving into my soaking wet pussy. I rubbed my clit vigorously, imagining the power I held over every soul in that room. This age play experiment was a masterpiece of submission. I arched my back, my heavy breasts bouncing as I worked my fingers faster, mirroring the frantic pace of the orgy on the other side. The smell of sweat and sex seemed to permeate even the glass. My obsession with age play fueled my climax. As the convicts reached their peaks, spraying hot seed across the children's trembling bodies, I let out a loud moan and collapsed against the wall, my own orgasm crashing over me in waves of absolute, divine control.
