The Addams Family: Wednesday At The Park

This is a work of complete fiction.  It just popped into my brain so I wrote it down and share

it for free and make no money off of it.  No one under legal age may read this, if you know

what's good for you.  No one over legal age should read this for the same reason.  All

characters used in this story are a parody of any real or fictional person.  I do not own The

Addams Family or the characters from it.  Comments are always welcome and appreciated

so you should feel free to share.

Story Code: M/f, Teen, Noncon,

The Addams Family: Wednesday at the Park

By Muhabba

     It was a brisk day in the neighborhood.  The sun was shining and the birds were singing

every where.  Except at 1313 Mockingbird Lane.  There was always a dark cloud hanging

over the old mansion and it looked like the sun had given up trying to shine there long ago.  

The only birds there were old crows hawking and cawing and chasing the other birds off.

     The old mansion at 1313 Mockingbird Lane bent and leaned at odd angles and appeared

to always be on the verge of collapsing.  If you didn't know better you’d think that it had

been abandoned long ago.  But as a young girl stepped out the front door and onto the front

porch it proved that you were wrong.  That's what you get for making assumptions.

     The young girl was wearing a simple midnight black dress that came down to her knobby

knees with frilled lace at her collar and cuffs.  Her skin was milky pale with dark, raven wing

black hair done in two braided pony tails.  In one hand she carried an umbrella and

underneath her other arm she carried a old, dented tool box.

     As soon as the young girl exited the perpetual gloom around the house she opened the

umbrella and carried it to block her from the sun.  With determination she walked block

after block to the city park.  Her eyes never wavered from her task but that didn't mean she

didn't notice the older man sitting alone on one of the wooden park benches.

     Out of the corner of her eye should could see the stranger watching her but she didn't

pay him any mind as she sat down next to the merry-go-round.  She collapsed her umbrella

and sat it down with the tool box.  Next she reached into the old, battered tool box and

pulled out a wrench.

     Reaching under the lip of the merry-go-round she found the bolt holding the safety rail

and loosened it.  She spun the wheel enough to reach the next safety rail and loosened it as

well before repeating her actions again and again.

     Getting to her feet, the young girl made her way over to the slide and sat her tool box and

umbrella down.  She climbed halfway up the ladder to the slide and unfastened the left side

of one step and then the right side of the next step.  She continued up the slide until she

reached the top and slid down.  The young girl didn’t notice that the older man had made his

way over to her until she was back on the ground.

     “And what do you think you’re doing, young lady?” the older man asked with a chuckle.

     “Sabotaging the playground equipment,” Wednesday Addams said matter of factly from

her seat at the bottom if the slide as she got her first good look at the man.  He had a bit of a

stoop because of his age with snowy white hair and a thick, snowy white mustache.  He was

dressed in tweed pants with suspenders and a white button up shirt as well as leather shoes.

     The older man chuckled.  “And why would you be doing that exactly?” he asked sweetly.

     “Because I’m not allowed on the playground at school,” Wednesday said as she sat up

and went to get her tool box and umbrella.

     “You don't say,” the man said with another chuckle as he followed the young girl, “And

why is that exactly?”

     “Sabotaging the playground equipment,” Wednesday said as she took her box and started

over to the swing set.  When she reached the swings she turned back to the old man

momentarily to ask, “What brings you to the park?” before pulling a screwdriver out.

     “I’m a bit of a birdwatcher,” he told her as the girl got onto her knees with her

screwdriver held up to the seat of the swing.

     “Not a lot of birds at this playground,” Wednesday said as she started loosening screws.

     “Oh, there's always something nice to see if you know where to look,” he said merrily to

the girl, “And I can definitely see you, little miss.”

     Wednesday finally managed to loosen one screw while the old man continued talking.

     “And I’m afraid that I can't let you keep sabotaging the equipment,” he told her.

     “Afraid I’ll ruin the view?” Wednesday asked plainly, “Of the birds, I mean.”

     The older man was slightly put off by the girl’s utter lack of inflection in her voice but

carried on.  “Listen, sweetie, I’m afraid that I’ll have to take you home and tell your parents

what you’ve been up to,” he said, losing the light, humored tone in his voice.

     Wednesday finished with the second screw and then began in the other side of the seat.  

“But my parents aren't home and we’d be all alone by ourselves with no one around but you

and me,” she mocked.

     “Then we’ll just have to wait for them,” the older man said sternly, “So gather your things

and let’s go.”

     “But whatever shall we do by ourselves while we wait on them?” Wednesday asked as

she continued sabotaging the swing set.

     “I’m sure there's something,” the man said sternly, “Now gather your things.”

     Perfectly obedient and polite, Wednesday gather her tools and umbrella before turning to

the old man.  “What about your things?” she asked without humor.

     “What things?” the man asked trying to figure out what exactly was wrong with the girl.

     “Your binoculars,” Wednesday said sweetly, “Birdwatchers usually have binoculars.”

     The old man huffed at the young girl, “Never mind that right now,” he said as he held out

his hand to the girl, “Let's head back to your house so I can talk to your parents.”

     Without another word or even a glance, Wednesday took the old man's hand and began

leading him back to her house.

     By the time they reached the front door, the old man was hunched down a bit more and

was slightly huffing through his mustache to catch his breath.  Wednesday led him inside the

front door and then set her umbrella and tool box down next to the door after she closed it.

     “Let me show you to the sitting room,” Wednesday said as she grabbed the older man’s

hand and led him off to the side of the large, ornate staircase separating the wings of the

house.  She sat him down in a large, old, comfortable, overstuffed chair and brought over a

foot stool to rest his feet on.  “Let me get you some tea,” she said in her flat, monotone

voice.

     The older man nodded to the young girl, slightly out of breath and unable to talk at the

moment.  He relaxed and tried to get his breath back and was feeling much better when the

girl returned with a steaming pot of tea and two cups.  “Thank you, my dear,” he said

gratefully as the girl poured him a cup, not even noticing that she didn't take one herself.

     He sipped his tea and felt almost immediately calmer before turning back to the girl

sitting opposite him on a small couch.  She stared at him, almost unblinking, her feet

dangling off the floor and he suddenly found himself slightly unnerved by her.  “Now, when

did you say your parents would be home again?” he asked.

     “Not until late,” Wednesday said, “We’ll be all alone for hours and hours.  All by ourselves

in my home.  With nobody around.  Just us.”

     His slight nervousness grew to partially nervousness of the young girl as he sipped his tea

and she stared silently at him.  She was slowly kicking her feet out while she sat perfectly still

with her hands on her knees.

     “Would you like some more tea?” Wednesday asked, startling her guest.

     “No, no.  This is fine,” the man said as he took another sip and relaxed into the chair

more.

     “I made it myself,” Wednesday said matter of factly, “It's not too sweet, is it?”

     The older man took another sip to show the girl that he was enjoying her tea.  “No, no.  

It’s perfect,” he said as he sank lower and lower into the uncommonly comfortable chair.

     “That's good,” Wednesday said, “I was afraid I added to much sugar trying to cover up the

taste of the anesthetic.  Are you sure you don't want another cup?”

     To the old man it looked like the room was getting darker and the girl was getting hazier

as he slowly fell unconscious.

-----

     The old man came to slowly, groaning slightly at the stiffness in his neck and back.  His

vision was blurred and all he could see was a gray haze as he tried to look around.  As his

vision began to slowly return to focus he saw that most of the haze was the dust in the

room.  

He tried to stretch out the pain in his muscles and that was when he realized that he was

tied up and captured.

     His vision returned in a snap.  He looked around and saw that he was tied to on old,

ornate four poster bed with his back to the head board.  His wrists were tied to the two

posts at the head of his bed and his ankles were tied to the two at the foot of his bed.  It was

when he shivered that he realized that he was cold and then realized that he was completely

naked.  And then he realized some more.  Standing at the foot of the bed was the strange

young girl staring blankly at him.

     “You're awake,” Wednesday said plainly, “That's good.  I was starting to worry you

wouldn't wake up at all.”

     The now frightened old man shook his head at the strange site framed between his feet.  

The girl had changed her clothes and he was scared by what she had changed into.  The

young girl was wearing sheer black stockings that came up to mid-thigh, a sheer black thong

pulled up snuggly against her young mound, sheer black gloves that came to her elbows, a

black choker, and a black, quarter-cup push-up bra.  He didn't even know they made lingerie

small enough for a girl that age.  He didn't know how old the girl was but he could tell that

her hips had just started to widen and her breasts were barely more than bumps on her

chest capped with hard, pale pink nipples.  Her skin was the color of cream and she wore no

make-up except for black lipstick.

     “What's your favorite bird?” Wednesday ask without inflection.

     “Wha… what?” the old man asked.

     Wednesday pulled a riding crop out from behind her and slapped her guest on top of his

thigh causing him to cry out.  “Your favorite bird, pedo,” she asked again.

     The girl’s extreme lack of emotion when she talked and when she slapped him had the

older man scared more than anything.  “Are… are you one of those, you know… one of those

autistics?”

     Wednesday's riding crop lashed out across the man’s other thigh.

     “Ahhh…” the frightened prisoner cried out, “Doves!  I like doves!”

     “Kind of obvious but an acceptable answer,” Wednesday said.  She slowly crawled into

the bed between the old man's arthritic feet, her tight, pale ass high in the air as she moved

between his legs on her gloved hands and stocking covered knees.  With her empty hand she

grasped the older man’s soft prick and tugged on it a few times before extending her pink

tongue.  She slowly licked around his soft cock-head until it began to gleam in the murky

light of the bedroom.

     His chest heaving in panic as he was molested, the old man could help but be taken by the

sudden color of the girl’s moist tongue compared to her pale skin and her black lips.

     The man gasped out as she sucked the tip of his cock into her mouth.  Her nimble tongue

massaged him gently as she slowly tugged on the soft tube of flesh in her hand.  He slowly

started to harden in her mouth and then struggled against the ropes tying him to her bed.  

But if there were two things she learned in Camp Chippewa it was tying knots and that with

enough effort anything could catch fire.  But in this case it was the knot tying that was

important.

     Her plump, pale ass swayed hypnotically as she concentrated on the man’s half-hard cock,

her silk covered fingers wiggling along the base of his thickening shaft like a farmer milking a

cow and her moist mouth massaging the rest of him as she started bobbing her head up and

down.

     “Oh!  Ahhh!  Oh!  Ahhh!” the bound old man chanted, torn between forced pleasure and

fear.  He frantically looked around the room for help, a knife to cut his hands and feet free, a

open window to tell for help, perhaps even a phone to call 911 if it was close enough to

reach.  And even though there were several sharp objects scattered or displayed through the

room they were all out of reach.  There was no phone anywhere.  And the window appeared

nailed shut.  “Oh help meeee…” he whined pitifully as he was sucked to full hardness against

his will.

     With the old man fully erect, Wednesday slid her hand down to his low hanging balls and

began to massage them in her gloved hand as she swallowed his dick completely.  His

spongy cock-head slipped inside of her tightly clutching throat as she pressed her warm

tongue against his shaft.  She pulled back and then pushed down again, fucking him with her

mouth and throat and causing him to moan out against his will in lust and panic.  With one

last push down, the pale young girl held him inside of her, swallowing around his shaft until

he was squirming beneath her and then she quickly released him.

     Wednesday sat up on her knees between the gasping old man's skinny legs.  “Where do

doves originate from?” she asked impassively.

     “Wh… what?” the confused old man asked.

     Wednesday slapped the man’s shoulder with her riding crop causing him to cry out in

shock and pain.  “Where do doves come from?” she asked again just as impassively and she

interrogated her prisoner.

     “I… I… I…” the man stammered, “Euro… Europe, Asia, and… and Africa.”

     Thinking it over for a moment Wednesday shrugged her shoulders.  “Could be,” she

coincided.  She wiggled up the bed until she was straddling her guests bony hips with her silk

covered thighs and then leaned forward.  She pressed her nearly naked body against his, his

wiry silver chest hair scrapping her sensitive nipples as she slid up his bony frame and

positioned his erect cock, letting it slide up between her tight little ass-cheeks as she slid

herself down.

     The small, young girl moaned lustfully while keeping the stony, disinterested look on her

face, something else that frightened the old prisoner.  Her body was surprisingly warm, just

like her mouth had been.  He would have thought she would have been stone cold but as

she rubbed her barely developed body against him she was warm and soft.  She slid up

farther, rubbing her barely formed tits against his face, sliding her hard little nipples against

his dry, chapped lips.  His body vibrated with nervous energy as he was molested by the

strange girl and fought against his simple, human biology.  She may have captured him and

tied him up and made him hard against his will but his choices were still his own.

     Her face flat and continuing to show no emotion, Wednesday moaned out again as she

rubbed herself against the old man.  With his hard-on snug between her taunt little cheeks,

she leaned away from him, arching her back gracefully and presented her slight chest to him.  

“What is the bird family made up by doves and pigeons?” she asked frankly.

     “What?” the old man asked before he could think and then cried out as the riding crop

came down against his side.  “Columbidae!” he cried out before he could be whipped again,

“Columbidae!”

     Wednesday shrugged her shoulders again.  “Okay,” she said before dropping the riding

crop.

     “Oh thank God,” the old man muttered in relief as the crop fell to the floor beside the bed.  

And then his relief quickly passed as the young girl began wiggling around on top of him.

     Sliding her thong down over her creamy, pale ass, Wednesday slid it down one slender leg

and then the other before throwing it down next to her favorite riding crop.  She then

released her bra and let it fall down with the thong leaving her in only her gloves, stockings,

and choker.  She moved around some more until the old man's dick was snug between her

ass-cheeks again, her head slightly above his letting her look down at him.

     “Oh please no,” the old man whined as he throbbed against his control between the girl’s

coltish legs.

     Wednesday didn't say anything as she slid back until the tip of her captive’s dick slipped

inside of her tight, wet pussy.  Her expression didn't change as she slid down, slowly

enveloping his hard, throbbing dick as he moaned out in unwanted desire.  Her eyes stayed

locked on his as he rolled his head back and forth, trying to look anywhere other than at her

as she slid down his throbbing prick.  She rocked her tight ass up and down slowly until she

took all of him and then rested on his lap as he twitched inside of her young body.

     The tortured old man closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to see the girl but he knew that

her face would be just as impassive as it had been since he’d first met her.  He had to stop

his hips from jerking up and accidentally fucking the small, pale girl as she sat atop him with

his dick buried inside of her tight, wet, warm little body.  He cried out suddenly when she

started rolling her hips, fucking him despite his protests, her little pussy gripping him tight as

she slid up and down his pole.

     Rubbing her small tits across the man’s face, Wednesday slowly slid up and down his shaft

as he whimpered in need.  She moaned out lustfully despite her face not showing any

emotion as she slowly began to pick up speed.  Her pale pussy stretched tight around the

older man’s girth as she rolled her hips and began thrusting down.  As her small body moved

up and down faster her black pony-tails began to whip around her head as her warm, slick

juices slid down her captive’s hard cock.  “Uh, uh, uh…” she groaned out through her black

painted lips with every downward stroke of her body.

     “No, no, no…” the old man groaned out through his chapped lips with every downward

stroke of the girl’s tight little body, mirroring her as he began to feel a old, familiar twitch in

his groin.  Against his will his hips began the jerk, thrusting up into the young girl as she

frantically rode him.  “Jesussss…” he hissed through his dentures as his first orgasm in years

roared through him.

     “Ahhhh…” Wednesday moaned silently as the first shot of the man’s cum triggered her

own orgasm.  Her entire body shivered and her muscles twitched as the old man filled her

and her pussy rippled around his cock, milking him dry.

     As Wednesday and her guest slowly relaxed he opened his eyes finally and looked up at

her.  She gave a contented sigh and said frankly, “I don't know if you were a pedophile

before but you are now.”

-----

     From outside 1313 Mockingbird Lane the clouds still gathered around the old mansion

and the sun still failed to shine.  The crows had scared off all the other birds and no children

played anywhere near the sidewalk in front of the dilapidated old house.  Everything was

peaceful and quiet.

     And what did we say about making assumptions?

     A loud crash came from somewhere inside of the oddly shaped mansion.  Followed by a

thundering boom and then another crash.  The front door flew open and an old man came

running out screaming, wearing only his jockey shorts and soaks.  He flew up the walkway

holding his clothes and ran into the street.  Still screaming, he looked from one direction to

the other and then ran randomly off.

     Well, randomly as long as it was away from 1313 Mockingbird Lane and the Addams

family.

The End.