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LISLE REMEMBERS Mf, anal, mast, intercourse, ped, oral
Author: Julie Hypnotic
Lisle Cameron was jarred from her humdrum Monday afternoon by her
secretary's buzz.
"Yes, Margaret?"
"Smith on line one."
She drew a deep breath before she answered.
"All right, you can put him through."
Hurriedly, she shuffled the papers on her desk around, moving files
out of the way, making room for her elbows, and otherwise preparing
for the next ninety minutes. A glance at her wall clock showed her that
Smith was ten minutes early. She made a mental note to have
Margaret charge him for the time then pressed the intercom button as
she picked up a pad and a pencil.
His slightly distorted voice filled Lisle's office a second later.
"Hello, Dr. Cameron." As always, Lisle was struck by the strength in
his voice, even through the manipulation of the company's voice
modulator. He reminded her of some elusive person from her past, but
she could never quite capture the feeling.
"Hello, Mr. Smith. How are you today?"
"I'm well, Dr. Cameron, thank you. And you? I trust you had a
pleasant weekend, perhaps with friends and loved ones?"
Skirting his blatant attempt to draw her out, Lisle dropped her pitch
and assumed a professional, uninvolved tone. "Yes, very pleasant.
Shall we begin?"
"Of course."
"Is there anything from last week that you feel we should revisit? As I
recall, you were telling me about your family?"
"Yes, Dr. Cameron, and as I do not hear any paper rustling, I assume
that you really do recall that piece of perhaps insignificant information
rather than needing to resort to my file to refresh your memory." He
paused and Lisle held still; she knew him well enough by now to know
he wasn't finished. "I admire your dedication, Doctor, as well as your
attention to detail. You're a fine therapist."
"Thank you, Mr. Smith." She shifted in her seat, already anxious to
hear that smooth voice begin recounting his past. Mr. Smith aroused
her professional curiosity in many ways and although Lisle refused to
admit it, even to herself, she found him fascinating.
"Yes, we were discussing my daughter, weren't we?"
"We were. Excuse me one second, Mr. Smith. I do need to retrieve
your file so that I can mark the page where we left off."
"Well," he said smoothly, "aren't you recording these sessions,
Doctor?"
Lisle hesitated. He had never asked her that question before, though
she knew he had been made aware of it beforehand as all of the
agency's clientele had. "Yes, I am. I record all my sessions, Mr.
Smith."
"Of course you do, my dear. I'll hold."
Lisle hurried to her file drawer and located the "Smith" folder; it was
large and bulky, containing mostly useless information; she knew he
had yet to reveal the meat of his personality and her tummy tightened
nervously as she wondered if today would be a day of revelation. She
returned to her seat and indicated that Smith should continue.
"You're all ears aren't you, Dr. Cameron? Poised there in your
therapist's chair, feet up, shoes off, exposing those slim, stockinged
calves and delicately arched feet. At least," he whispered, "I imagine
so. Do you wear silk stockings, Doctor?"
For a fraction of a second, Lisle felt the urge to drown in those
forbidden words. She wondered how he did it: so smooth, so flawless,
so relaxed and at ease as he tried to strain the patient-doctor
relationship. Strain it to the breaking point.
Lisle cleared her throat, but the words still exited her throat in a
whisper. "Would you care for a different therapist, Mr. Smith?"
Silence. Several seconds of silence so pure that she could feel it as a
presence floated about the small room. Then he spoke once more, his
voice betraying just a hint of emotion. "You know I would not, Dr.
Cameron."
"Carry on then. We left off at your describing how your daughter - and
we called her Mary - made you feel as a young father."
"Yes. I remember." As though mesmerized, Smith's voice dropped into
a conversational tone. "She was a small girl, born early by nearly two
months. My wife bore her in an agony of pain and seemed to hate the
girl for that all of her life. I was young, too, and tried my best to
become a mother replacement, but nothing worked. The child was wild
and reckless; she seemed determined to put both of us in the grave
before we reached thirty. When my wife died, it was almost a relief. At
last, the constant conflict began to dissipate and Mary became an
angel. She cared for the house, she cooked, she shopped. Everything.
That is, until she fell in with that boy and got herself pregnant."
"Did you love your wife, Mr. Smith?"
"Yes, very much."
"And you missed her? Both as a wife and as a lover?"
Another long pause; a hesitation from the man who often seemed
made of stone. Lisle, excited by this possible moment of discovery,
thought she heard him sigh before he continued. "Yes, in both of those
ways."
Lisle sat back and listened as Smith told her about Mary's youth. His
earlier air of sincere honesty became lost in detail and Lisle
suppressed the regret and frustration that surged through her. Her
recorder caught all of the mindless attributes that did not interest her
as her mind wandered, Smith's voice easing her way into memory.
She had worked at the agency for three years. An early childhood
trauma had wiped away most of her memory before the age of
fourteen, but she knew that she was an orphan. Shy and remote, she
had applied herself in school, graduated very early, and gotten her
degree in psychology at the tender age of nineteen. Three years later,
Smith was the only constant thing in her busy life. Shuffled about the
agency into the hands of every therapist on staff, he seemed satisfied
when Lisle was the only one left who would take him as a client. That
he was a self-proclaimed recluse who would only receive his therapy
under a false name via the telephone line had made Lisle lazy at
times. She often forgot that he was a paroled pedophile, but she
sensed that there was much more to his story than merely molesting a
child. Somehow, she knew he had substance.
"Dr. Cameron, are you listening to me?"
Startled, Lisle shook her head. "Of course, Mr. Smith."
Again the man paused for a long time and Lisle thought she could feel
his contempt. She shivered and straightened up in her chair, painfully
aware of how loud the creak of the springs were in the confined space.
"I don't like it when you lie to me, Dr. Cameron. I understand that
these sessions can be tedious at times. I would prefer your honesty."
He sounded genuinely hurt. Lisle suffered a wave of shame and was
grateful that he could not see how red her cheeks were at his
discovery of her untruth.
"Please. Forgive me, Mr. Smith. I don't know what I was thinking."
"For what do you seek forgiveness, and are you sincere?"
Once more, Lisle was surprised at his words. To be untruthful now
could seriously impede all of her efforts over the last two years. She
chose honesty, although her training warned her to remain aloof.
"Mr. Smith, I am terribly embarrassed. I ask you to forgive me for my
lie, and yes, I am sincere. I should have been honest, as you have
been."
"That's quite all right, Doctor; you are merely human after all." The
amusement in his voice was apparent and despite herself, Lisle smiled.
"Now," he continued, "I was just reminding you that we had only
twenty minutes left, now only fifteen. Was there anything you wanted
to ask of me?"
Fumbling for her forgotten pad, and making sure he could hear her,
Lisle managed a lilt to her voice as she answered. "No, not really. Is
there anything in particular you'd like to fill these last few minutes
with?" Instantly, she regretted the words, and yet, she felt a strange
thrill run through her.
"Why, Doctor, is that a leading question? Are you saying I have free
reign over the remaining time?"
"N-no, Mr. Smith, you know what I meant." Again a stab of regret and
she wondered if it was possible to sound any more like a flustered
amateur at the hands of a pro, but wasn't that exactly what she was?
Before she could speak again, Mr. Smith continued.
"In fact, Doctor, there is. I'd like to know if you're wearing panties
today, and if so, what color they are? Won't you answer, just this
once?"
His voice had dropped to a throaty whisper, and Lisle felt it caress her
from head to toe, sweeping across her nerve endings in small waves of
sheer sensation.
"I c-can't." She whispered, knowing it was the wrong response,
knowing it would only invite more questions.
"Why not? I know you want to. I can hear it in your lovely voice. You
enjoy this part of our sessions. I expect you replay the tapes again
and again, perhaps fondling that beautiful body you no doubt
possess."
"N-no. I'm going to sign off, Mr. Smith." Somehow she sounded strong
and felt her confidence increase.
"You will not. You will hang on my every word, won't you, Doctor?"
"No. Please stop."
"What if I promised you something? Something that I know you want?
Would you answer my questions then? Would you describe how you
touch yourself when you're all alone? Your thighs clenching for
purchase, a fine sheen of perspiration beading your full upper lip, your
long, soft, blonde hair flying as your body seeks satisfaction. Is that
what it's like, my darling? Tell me."
"What could you promise me? What knowledge do you have that could
possibly make me forget my ethics training?"
Some unnamed alarm sounded in the back of Lisle's mind but she
ignored it. Torn, she bit her lip; this was dangerous, so very
dangerous, but her body pulled her along without consent. Stop this,
her mind screamed, yet she held her breath waiting for an answer.
"I could promise you those details you covet. Just think," he
whispered, "you could publish your paper on the infamous Mr. Smith,
rejected by every female therapist in New York City. You could take
the next rung of your ladder to the top with all the accompanying
accolades. "Cracking Mr. Smith." That's what you could call it - your
masterpiece."
Lisle struggled with herself. She was so intrigued. So caught up in his
world. What harm could come of it? And if she could indeed crack him,
then she would take that step up the ladder that he spoke of. Maybe
she could even help him, although he never seemed really to need her
help.
At that moment, the intercom buzzed.
"What is it Margaret? I'm in session, here!" She snapped.
"I'm sorry, Dr. Cameron, but you've run over by eight minutes and
your next client is here."
"Yes, yes. Tell her I'll be a few more minutes. And offer my apologies,
please." Lisle was nearly panting when she clicked the intercom over.
Her hands shaking, she lifted the receiver in order to hear Smith's
voice speak directly into her ear.
"I cannot answer the questions you ask of me, Mr. Smith. You know
that."
He laughed softly. "Yes, I understand, but you could listen and not
silence me. You could respond to what you hear. You could do that."
His voice was riveting.
"And you would talk to me frankly?"
"I swear it."
"But not here. Not on this line."
"Your home number, then?"
She bit her lip, hovering at the edge of indecision then she blurted,
"Yes."
"I have a pen and paper."
Swallowing the last surge of apprehension, Lisle rattled off her
telephone number and told him to call at seven o'clock. Her hands
were trembling as she placed the receiver in its cradle.
She sat still for another five minutes until Margaret hesitantly buzzed
her again. Finding her composure somewhere under the thrill of the
forbidden, and the confusion of knowing she had just violated her
patient's trust, no matter that it seemed just the opposite, Lisle
greeted her next client and fumbled her way through the rest of the
day.
*
When seven o'clock came, she was ready, but terrified. Already
anticipating that Mr. Smith would not sound the same, she answered
with a soft hello.
"Dr. Cameron."
He was so masculine. So strong. Without the modulator, his voice rang
clear and confident. Lisle swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry, and she
felt her heartbeat accelerate as she felt that odd rush of familiarity.
"Mr. Smith." She replied.
"Dr. Cameron, you must now call me by name. If you don't mind, that
is. We have reached a new plateau in our relationship. Don't you
agree?"
"Y-yes."
"My name is Steven."
"Steven. Yes, Steven." She was betraying herself. Rasping out her
words in harsh whispers, her pulse blocking out all sound except for
that silky voice.
"And you? What shall I call you, Doctor?"
"Call me Lisle. Please." It did not occur to her that she was pleading.
She was begging him to talk to her, and she hoped fervently that he
would indeed get personal.
"Lisle. That's the loveliest name I've ever heard. I knew a young lady
named Lisle once."
"They told me in the orphanage that my grandfather named me. I-I
don't remember him very much."
"I understand your hesitancy about speaking to me this way and I'll
never forget you for this. You must tell me what you're wearing. And
know this, Lisle. I have an erection and will in fact be gripping that
erection as we speak. I'll be pulling it, jerking it, manipulating it until
I
reach orgasm." His voice softened as he continued. "I'm going to cum
for you before this night is through."
"Oh God."
"And I want you to cum, too. Are you excited, Lisle? Is your pussy
burning?"
"Y-yes."
"My conviction thrills you, doesn't it? The dirty old man violating a
precious, beautiful little girl. You want all the details, don't you, Lisle?
But why do you want them? For your career?"
"Yes."
"Hmm, maybe, but I think not. What are you wearing?"
"J-just a robe, Steven. A green, silk robe."
"Does it match the green of your eyes?"
Lisle was startled. She sucked in air and felt faint, yet her desire only
increased. How could he know these things? Her mind flew back to the
session today at the office. He'd mentioned her hair color. He'd seen
her before. He knew her.
"You know me," she whispered.
"Yes. On my visits to New York City, I've watched you enter and exit
your building. I knew it was you.I knew it," he said. "Does it matter,
Lisle?"
"No, it doesn't," she answered truthfully, after several seconds of soul
searching.
"You'll still let me tell you all my dirty secrets?"
"Yes. Please, tell me."
Lisle realized that she was far-gone. She was over the edge and
beyond caring about ethics, professionalism, her career, everything.
Steven's voice was all that mattered. His confession and the rush it
created inside her were the only things that she wanted.
"It was my granddaughter. Did you know that?"
"N-no. The file said only that it was a child. A little girl, and we have
no way of tracking the information from a voluntary client."
"She was eight years old the first time I touched her. Her mother, my
daughter, had been killed in a car wreck and that left only my
granddaughter and me. She was angelic. Small, like her mother, with
the softest blonde hair I'd ever seen. Her eyes were the deepest
green, like crystallized forest leaves. She was so sad, Lisle. Her mother
was gone and she was afraid of the entire world. At night she would
not leave my side, even for bath or bed. I cared for her as best I could
and took her into my bed with me. After a time, she relaxed and came
to rely on me for everything." His voice cracked as he finished in a
whisper. "I loved her so much; I love her still."
"I understand," she moaned.
"Are you touching yourself? Are you sliding your hands along that
white skin? Do you feel the heat from your cunt tempt your fingers?
Lisle, do you want to know how it came to pass? My making love to
my granddaughter?"
"Oh God, yes, please."
"You have to tell me what you're doing."
She tried. Lisle opened her mouth to speak, but only an anguished cry
came forth. "I can't!"
"Just answer yes or no. Are you touching yourself?"
"Yes."
"Your pussy?"
"N-no."
"Your breasts? Nipples?"
"Yes." The answer was almost as pleasurable as the sensation and to
punctuate her confession, Lisle tugged her erect nipple out from her
body and gave it a hard pinch. She moaned softly, waiting for Steven
to continue.
"That's my girl," he said, his own voice dropping lower still. "It was she
who initiated the intimate relationship. At least, that is what I believe;
I no longer know for sure."
Lisle heard the tinkle of ice on glass as Steven took a sip of his drink.
She waited again, her hand poised upon her left breast, stroking the
warm skin, passing her fingertips across her nipples. She enjoyed the
friction, but she wanted Steven to speak faster.
"She would lie beside me at night, snuggled into the warmth of our
quilts. It still amazes me how sweet she was. It was only two or three
weeks after her arrival that I woke one night to feel her moving about.
I remember opening my eyes in confusion, the closet light laying a
path of illumination across her body." He took another drink and Lisle
swallowed the lump in her throat. "I stayed still for a while, thinking
she was having a nightmare, but just as I reached out to wake her, I
heard her voice."
An unbearable amount of time passed with absolute silence. Lisle
paused her movements, wanting to wait until his voice accompanied
her.
"Lisle, it was a moan, a soft moan, a child's moan. But it carried with it
a texture that no man can deny. The child was turned on.sexually
excited. I lifted my head a fraction and what I saw then has the same
affect on me when I remember it today. Her little pink panties were
down to mid thigh and her hand was caught between her thighs. As it
dawned on me that she was masturbating, rubbing her tiny little
pussy, I began to grow hard even while my mind sought to flee the
scene. She was completely abandoned, her hips thrusting up and
down, her fingers disappearing deeper into her slit, her pussy, and
then emerging coated with juice that glittered in the light. I was
enraptured."
"Oh, Steven. What did you do?" Lisle gasped.
"I watched. Of course, I watched. I watched as she moved so eagerly,
and my cock grew so hard I thought it might burst. Each time her
voice cooed those exciting little moans I grew harder still. She took no
notice of me, simply continuing her search for pleasure. Once, she
lifted her head and looked down at herself. She closed her hand into a
fist and laid the knuckles flat against her body, no doubt enjoying the
ridges of each finger as they massaged her clitoris, and I shifted my
eyes to her face. She had sucked her lower lip into her mouth and her
forehead was creased in concentration."
A journey of hand to flesh was taking place on the other end of
Steven's voice. Lisle teased her nipples, pinching them until they
burned, but her other hand had begun to travel. It paused just below
her navel, trembling, waiting, her head cocked toward her shoulder
with the telephone against her ear and her breathing heavy.
"The sight of her giving herself pleasure was absolutely stiffening. I
wanted only to touch her, to ease her into bliss, to give her what she
searched for. I reached out, Lisle. I reached out and placed my hand
on her tummy. She contracted instantly, pulling her legs up to her
belly and omitting a very soft "oh" of surprise. And then she spoke.
"'Papa, please help me.'"
And she pushed my hand down until it covered her pussy, then she
just lay still, waiting for me. How could I deny the love of my life? My
head throbbed and my senses reeled. I leaned down and kissed her. I
opened her mouth with my own and allowed my tongue to slide forth
and taste the sweetness of her lips. And oh, how she responded to me.
Right away her tongue began its own hesitant dance and her sighs
quickly turned to panting pleas. She wanted, no, she needed orgasm,
whether she knew it or not."
Lisle whimpered and sped her fingers, pushing them through the folds
of female flesh until the hardness of her clitoris swelled upwards and
begged for its own touch. Frenzied, she applied pressure and rolled the
button through her fingers. Her groan was long and drawn out and
Steven answered with a hiss of pleasure.
"Yes, Lisle," he whispered.
"Please! Go on! Please!" she answered, her voice deep and shaking.
"My cock is so hard, Lisle. It throbs with lust for you. I'm going to
enjoy cumming with you. Do you like my story so far?"
"N-no, yes, no, oh please, I don't know. I want to cum."
"Yes, I know you do. Rub your pussy for me. It won't be long now."
She choked out a harsh agreement and let her finger circle her clit.
She was close. So close to her orgasm, yet she wanted to wait for him.
Hesitantly, she dipped her index and middle fingers into the heat of
her pussy, sighing her pleasure loudly.
"My granddaughter returned my kiss, and though I did not move my
fingers, I let the palm of my hand press down and into her little cunt.
God, it was so hot, so moist. She began to move against me, pumping
her hips up and down, moaning for Papa to help her. I could not resist
any longer and began to let my lips trail down to her chest. She had
no breasts, but her nipples were like tiny diamond chips, hard and
sweet. I washed her flesh with my saliva again and again, and still the
little girl moaned for more. She pushed her tiny chest upwards, letting
those stiff points brush agonizingly hard against my teeth and each
time they did so, breathing heated air into my ears.
At the same time, I explored the textures of the outside of her pussy,
slowly drawing just the tips of my fingers across her softness, then
dipping back down to drag her moisture up and spreading it across the
place where her tiny clit surely lay. The child was inflamed, her cunt
pushing out a volcanic amount of warm cream. At last, having no
resolve left, I moved lower still and gazed at her pussy. It was bare,
Lisle, completely naked, and it looked so small in the shaft of light. I
could not control the tremors wracking my body as I leaned over and
drew those small pink panties the rest of the way from her legs."
Steven drank from his glass again and Lisle cried her frustration.
"Her labia, those delectably soft pussy lips, were moist and puffy. They
seemed swollen yet I could discern no trace of womanhood. I leaned in
close and inhaled, expecting the scent of woman and receiving only
sweet, little girl aroma. And make no mistake it truly was pure
sweetness. Very carefully, I rose to my knees and reached forward
with both hands. I was shaking so hard I could barely move, but I
wanted to find her clitoris. I wanted my baby to cum for me. She
groaned and lifted her hips as her legs spread lewdly, begging her
Papa to help. Just help.
I was lost to her charms and excited beyond anything I had ever
experienced. She was blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh, and only
Papa could give her body what it needed. Even now, I can feel the
blood pound through my veins until my head throbs as hard as my
leaking cock. She cried out a series of husky "ohs," alternating them
with deep gasps, wanting my touch, needing it.
I ran my finger through her pussy lips again and ended with pressure
on the spot that seemed to give her the most pleasure. I repeated this
movement again and again until her trembling grew so violent that I
began to worry if she was all right. In turn, she mewled and moaned
something about her cunny. I melted, feeling my pulse beat in my
throat and lusting deeply after her perfect body. Only a child could
respond as she did, Lisle, and only love could allow the trust she had
in me. I felt so tender, so powerful, so...wanted. I have to tell you that
it is by far the most powerful aphrodisiac in the world. I whispered to
her. I told her that I loved her, I adored her, I was going to help her.
And she answered by lifting her hips again and thrusting her body in
search of fulfillment.
At last, by careful manipulation and patient searching, I found her clit.
It seemed to throb visibly and it was so small that I wasn't sure I had
located it, but the hiss she released, and the violent jerk of her body
told me I had found my treasure. I stroked it gently as I eased a finger
inside her. Never before or after have I felt anything as soft and slick
as the inside of my granddaughter's pussy. I wallowed in it, inserting
another finger, spreading her juices all over her cunt, and groaning
aloud my lust. I wanted desperately to place my cock where my
fingers lay, but I knew restraint was what was called for. I cannot tell
you how difficult it was not to fuck the child right then and there."
Lisle listened intently and rocked down onto her hand. She groaned
quietly, imagining the child lying under her grandfather's body, and
beginning herself to climb to the top of a spinning wheel of decadent
pleasure. To fall too soon would be agony. She slowed her hand and
retracted the fingers from her pussy. With a soft sigh, she settled for
firmly stroking the juncture where her thighs met her body and felt her
lust calm while Steven's seemed to grow more frenzied. His voice rose
in pitch and a tremor insinuated itself into his words.
"I reached for her hand and placed it around my cock, which I had
freed from my pajamas. My granddaughter clutched as if it were a
lifeline and I instructed her simply to squeeze, knowing that the
movements of her body and mine would do the rest."
"Are you close, my dear, because I am almost finished with this story
and my cock is seeping precum rapidly. I'm going to explode soon,
love."
Startled by his question, Lisle simply strangled out her reply, sliding
her middle finger back inside her pussy and using her thumb to stroke
her blossoming clit. "Hurry, Steven, but don't leave anything out."
"I began to thrust into her fist, whispering that something was going
to come out of my cock, and that she shouldn't be scared. My baby
only begged me to hurry and tightened her grip on me.
It was then that I tasted her cunt. I trailed my tongue across her
smooth lips, amazed at how they yielded. She was soft, so soft, and I
craved her like a drug. With my mind reeling and my body shaking, I
opened my lips and very carefully enclosed her entire pussy inside
them, sucking gently. She was just that small, Lisle. My lower lip was
pressed against the spot where pussy became anus and my upper lip
was close enough to her clit that I could feel its vibrations. A rush of
her fluid emerged and I placed my tongue at her entrance in order
that I should catch her shower, and she did not disappoint me. She
flooded me and I sucked in every sweet, delicious drop. After some
moments of gently sucking and drinking from her, I slid my tongue up
and flicked it across her then obviously swollen clitoris. Her reaction
was again dramatic. She jerked upwards and then settled back down,
her body nothing but a sustained buzz of quivering flesh."
Lisle could hear slapping sounds through the telephone line. Hard and
fast, sharp and short, she heard him stroking his cock, ragged moans
slipping from his lips whenever he paused his story. In that moment,
she tried to envision his face. She imagined it dark and mysterious,
with brown eyes and tan skin. Pleasure rolled up her body and she
stiffened, ceasing her movements, willing the climax away until she
could share it with Steven.
"Oh, God, please hurry, Steven," she grunted.
"Lisle, I think I lost my mind then. My body trembled like never before
and my cock coated the child's hand as it forced out huge globs of
precum. I had lost it, I was about to let the full flood of my seed fly
into the girl's fist, and in my frenzy I flattened my tongue flat on her
clit and began to stroke hard. She cried out once more, her voice
almost a scream. I felt her free hand tangle itself in my hair and she
moved with me. She gripped my cock and fucked herself onto my
tongue by pressing down on my head to meet the upthrust of her hips.
She was violent in her actions, amazingly strong, her childish need
blocking out all else, and I would have had it no differently. My God,
she was cumming. She was cumming, and cumming, and cumming."
Hearing his pitch increase yet again, and recognizing the tremble in his
voice that signaled orgasm, Lisle allowed her own fingers to resume
their strokes upon her clitoris. She drummed it quickly, turning her
cream to froth and relishing the slick feel of pussy juice coating her
hand. "Steven, I think I'm going to cum."
He groaned, "I'm with you, sweetheart. Almost there, and your voice
is so damn sexy. I love your pleasure."
Lisle answered with a whimper, running her wet fingers across her clit
and then plunging them swiftly into the heat of her pussy.
"I remember grunting that she should hold on, that Papa was
cumming, even though she could not know what that meant. I placed
my hands on her tiny little ass and lifted her body to my mouth. I let
my tongue eat her pussy greedily, lapping up her juice and bringing it
repeatedly into my mouth. She let go of herself and began to flail
around on the bed, still climaxing, and as she ground her cunt into my
mouth, her voice began a trembling wail, its sound so deeply lustful
that I almost fainted with need. She was screaming, begging Papa not
to stop, begging Papa to keep kissing her cunny, and I thrust forward
into her fist one last time and felt indescribable pleasure race through
my whole body. I could not move, I simply kept my tongue in her
pussy and let my cum spew in an endless shower. From the corner of
my eye I saw white streams drip from her hand and decorate her
belly. God, Lisle, I just loved her so much and it was awesome to see
my cum on her body."
His last words were rushed, shrouded in lust and desire. Lisle pulled
hard on her nipples and dug her finger deep into her pussy. She
allowed her body to slip forward, feeling herself float up and away as
her orgasm began. Steven's moans broke through her daze. He told
her he was cumming. And she matched the sound of his voice with her
own groans as she exploded in a rush of white light, gasping for breath
and letting his sounds carry her deeper into pleasure.
When she stopped, all she heard was the syncopated beat of both of
their breathing. He was calming, and so was she, but she felt the
connection they shared, the connection that she had struggled to deny
for over two years. Tenderness swelled inside her and she wished he
were holding her in his arms.
"Lisle?"
"Yes?"
"It's time we met."
"Yes."
"When?"
"Now?"
"No, darling. Not tonight. It is too late and you have much to think
about. I'm going to give you still more to consider before I sign off.
Okay?" His calm voice soothed.
She was amazed at the tenderness with which he spoke. She lay still,
her fingers still caught within her pussy, her heartbeat returning to
normal, and waited for his next words.
"Are you all right, Lisle?"
"Yes," she moaned, "I am now."
"Does the name Lily ring a bell?"
Lisle sat up quickly, her subconscious mind relaxed to the point where
it allowed concepts she hadn't dared entertain before to enter.
"Papa?"
"Think about it, darling. Remember."
And then he was gone, leaving her on the verge of awareness. She
gently hung up the telephone and settled back on her sofa, a thousand
memories rushing through her mind at the speed of light.
Later, just before she fell asleep, she remembered her grandfather's
touch and a smile decorated her face as sleep took her.
*
It had been twelve days since the odd night she'd shared with Steven.
Lisle waited for the phone to ring, drowning in sweat and panicking
that she had strayed too far from her chosen path. She beat herself
up, wondering if that last feeling before Steven rang off was real. The
memories had come flooding in since that night, a piece at a time
clicking into place, yet still elusive enough to give her doubt about
Steven's true identity. But, he had said Lily, hadn't he? That was
Papa's name for her because she had not been able to pronounce Lisle
properly until she was eleven years old, despite the many hours of
speech therapy to control her lisp. Only Papa had understood how
difficult it was for her; only Papa had let her save face by reinventing
her name. Lisle was caught between gratitude for Steven because he
had unlocked those precious memories for her, and anger at his
seeming abandonment.
*
She remembered the first time Papa had called her Lily.
They had a picnic that day on the back lawn. Lisle, by then having
begun her journey through adolescence, had proudly made peanut
butter and jelly sandwiches and wrapped them carefully in wax paper.
Papa had made a big deal about how delicious they were, his
handsome face smiling broadly, his enthusiasm infectious.
"Let's lie down, darling," he'd whispered to her after they ate, "and
take off your dress so it doesn't get dirty."
Lisle smiled, and lifted the green dress above her head, loving how
Papa looked at her nicely forming breasts; she was so proud of her
body, and all because Papa adored it so much. He'd folded the dress
carefully and set it atop the picnic basket, then pulled her down to his
side.
She shivered when he kissed her; she always did. His mouth was so
large against her small one; he was strong and safe and he loved her.
Lisle moaned as he tongued her lips, slipping in between them to fill
her mouth with heat and wetness. She stayed still, as he preferred,
and just let him stroke deeper and deeper, until at last he placed his
hands on her ass and squeezed hard. That was her signal and she
allowed her arms to rise until they encircled his neck, beginning her
own movements inside his mouth.
Papa moaned and bent her backward, nearly choking her with his
tongue, and squeezing her butt roughly. He began to pull free, but
sucked her lips into his mouth so that when he broke away, they were
swollen, red, and covered with his saliva. He looked at her for a
moment and then leaned close to lick his fluid away, stroking her
bottom softly.
"Papa, please, Papa." She whispered.
"Please what, my little angel?"
She smiled at him, unleashing the full force of her charm until he
groaned and kissed her again. "Will you fuck me today, Papa?"
"Darling, yes, of course I will. If you want me to," he teased.
"Yes, I do. Please fuck me."
"Lie on your belly first."
Lisle scrambled eagerly into position, waiting for him to touch her. She
hissed when she felt him take her small buttocks into his hands and
press down. She moved against him and sighed as he spread her open
and peered at her little asshole.
"Such a perfect, sexy ass. I want to take you there, Lisle. Papa wants
to fuck your ass. Would you like that, my love?" He asked.
"I don't know Papa, but I like it when you touch me there." She
teased, knowing how Papa loved the game, knowing she would let him
fuck her anywhere he wanted.
"Can I try it, darling? I'll make you wet first. I'll play with you, okay
baby?"
Lisle thought for a moment, considering the possibilities. She burned
inside, as she always did when Papa was with her. "Okay, but will you
fuck my pussy later?" She uttered the sex words calmly, enjoying how
Papa's cock jerked a little every time she talked dirty to him.
"Yes, angel," he replied, already running his fingers up and down her
crack. "God, you're so sexy and your asshole is beautiful. I'll bet it's
extra hot in there."
Thrashing around on the thin blanket, Lisle whimpered, lifting her butt
up in the air as she sought more of Papa's touch. He responded by
leaning over and licking both globes of her cheeks, wetting them so
that the summer breeze raised gooseflesh along her arms. He became
more intent, running his wet tongue all over her cheeks until her
shivering was nearly out of control.
"Mmm, Papa, that feels good," she muttered.
She heard him hiss above her and reinforced her thrashing, making
sure her raised ass enticed him beyond return. She trembled at the
thought of his cock slipping into her ass; she was afraid because
although he had fucked her many times, he had yet to breach that
special opening. But Papa's loving education had prepared her to want
this moment and the power that came with it, for as she gave herself
to him, she took a part of his soul inside her. She was old enough to
relish the strength that filled her at his obvious adoration.
Papa moved tentatively, allowing his blood engorged cock to slide
along her thighs as he bent and tipped her asshole with his tongue.
Lisle groaned softly and held her body still, waiting for Papa to guide
her. He tickled her there, inserting the tip of his tongue as she moaned
encouragement, then removing it to lick her opening broadly.
"I'm your good girl, Papa."
"Yes," he moaned, "you're an angel, my angel, my nasty little angel."
"Do it, Papa. Fuck your good girl."
She imagined him staring down at her soft, brown hole, puckered and
tiny, tight and hot. She felt the tension in his body as he began to lick
gently, wetting her tiny asshole. Emotion poured through the cracks in
her mind, stretching her will to accommodate him, to want his entry.
Barely restrained, she succumbed, and releasing a slow hiss, she
moved against him sliding her lithe, young body against his chest. His
reaction excited her almost as much as his tongue along her anus. He
let out a groan and gripped her hips with both hands, lifting her body
until her slim ass was raised and she rested on her knees.
"Ah, my little Lily blossom. My flower, my slut, my nasty angel. I love
fucking you."
And with that final whisper, she felt him pull her buttocks apart and
force his tongue into her hole. Heat flooded her limbs, and her entire
body shook with lust. His finger joined his tongue and very gently,
Papa rubbed her slick ass and opened her up to receive him.
"Mmm, Papa. I want to cum, first. Please?"
Her grandfather lifted her higher, pulling her upside down into his
arms until her slender legs circled his head and her small breasts
tickled his cock. He moved his mouth down and began to stroke his
tongue in and out of her pussy. Lisle moaned and gripped his thighs,
her body beginning to move in answer to his tongue. But Papa was
elusive; he drew back and it seemed as if she could feel him staring at
the pink folds of her cunt. She began to whimper, emitting soft, girlish
cries and begging her Papa to release her body into pleasure.
"Yes, darling Lily. I'll eat your pussy now. I'll lick your sweet little
cunt
until you bathe my face in your juice. Then, I'll fuck your ass."
Lisle let her hand close around his cock and she held it tightly as his
tongue located her clitoris and began a rippling assault that would
send her flying so high into pleasure that Papa would have to help her
come back to earth. He always helped her. Papa loved her.
"Yes," she pleaded, spreading her legs and squeezing his cock.
Faster, he licked Lisle's pussy. His tongue so firm, his breath so hot.
She allowed herself to lose control, safe in the knowledge that no
matter what Papa did to her, no matter where he took her, he would
always keep her safe. She whimpered, her voice exciting both of them
as she mewled her pleasure and thrust her fiery cunt onto Papa's
tongue. Even faster now, he knew what she wanted and answered the
need within her. He laid her down and held her still, both hands
pressing her inner thighs down and open. He lashed at her pussy again
and again, battering her swollen clit until she strangled her orgasm out
with energized bursts from her lungs.
"Yes! Oh fuck yes! Papa, I'm cumming! Suck it! Lick my cunny! Oh
Papa, your good little girl is...your good girl is... cumming.
Oh....cumming."
She let the pleasure control her body as she bucked and twisted in his
arms, seeking out every moment of joy that she could find. Papa held
her close and sucked the last of her cream away, then he licked
broadly until no trace of cum was left on her pussy before sliding up to
kiss her lips.
Lisle sighed and let him brush her hair from her face. She swallowed,
and in her daze she called on the words that she knew would arouse
her grandfather to the highest degree of lust. She wanted to give that
to him. "Fuck your good girl's asshole now, Papa. Put it deep inside
me. Please?" And her finishing move, the one that would hold her Papa
to her forever, was to smile at him and softly lick her own cum from
his lips.
"Naughty little girl," he whispered. "Get back on your knees."
Slowly, Lisle slid her body into position. "Is my pussy still juicing,
Papa? Will you spread it on my asshole?"
As she knew he would, her grandfather sucked in a gulp of air, and
answered with a groan.
"Yes, my nasty little baby. Papa will make your hole nice and slippery."
He reached down and cupped her pussy, pressing until little girl cream
began to slip into his palm. He moved his hand up and deposited its
content onto her butt, rubbing her anal opening as she quivered
beneath him.
Rising to his knees, he rested his shaft between the small cheeks of
her ass, slipping back and forth until both his cock and her asshole
were coated with glistening fluid.
"Lily, your asshole is so tiny. Papa doesn't want to hurt you, but it
might sting a bit."
She tensed, but thrilled inside at his words. "Fuck your good little girl,
Papa. Make it burn."
"Oh my God, child. The things you say. So naughty. So wanton." And
he leaned down and bit gently into the fleshy part of her ass.
"Fuck your good girl, Papa. Fuck me," she pleaded.
Papa began to press. He leaned forward, bracing his knees and
pressed steadily. Lisle moaned and tried not to move, her hole too
small to take his huge cock. Sweat broke on her brow. She trembled,
waiting. A great shove from behind accompanied by a moan from Papa
and she was open. He was in. Papa was in her ass. Pain wracked her
small body and she began to cry.
"N-no! It hurts, Papa. Stop!" The pain was so intense that her words
nothing short of a shriek.
"Hush. You're my good little girl, remember? You can take it," he
whispered, his voice lust-filled and thick, "relax your ass and let your
Papa in. Oh God, you're so fucking tight."
She drew several deep breaths and somehow stilled the trembling in
her legs. The pain was great, greater than anything she had ever
imagined, but the husky sound of Papa's voice and her own helpless
submission was turning her on at the same time. He reached a hand
down to her chest and fondled her tits, focusing on her nipples and
holding his cock still. She sighed, grateful for the pause, and relaxed a
little more as Papa plucked gently at her stiff points.
"You're such a good fuck, Lily girl. Oh God, I've got the head of my
dick in and your asshole looks good stretched so wide by your own
Papa's big cock. Your tiny brown hole and my big fat cock. Mmmm,
yes! I'm going in now. I'm going to fuck you. I'm going to fuck you,
baby." His pause was accompanied by a more urgent thrust. "It's slick
baby, and so hot. Your beautiful ass is trembling. Oh. Oh! Oh yes! It
feels so good, so good, angel."
He moved a little faster but still pushed his dick inside her only a
fraction at a time. Lisle was limp and tired, the pain fresh, but she
knew Papa; she knew that nothing would please him more than to
take her pain and turn it into pleasure. She waited, tears slipping down
her cheeks and praying for a giddy release from anguish.
"Papa? I'm scared," she whispered, her heart pounding and her
courage evaporating.
"Hush now. Shhh, you're Papa's good slut. Papa's good, good little
slut. Papa's angel baby. Take my cock. You can do it, Lily. You can do
it."
As he spoke in choked whispers, he quickened his movements still
more, taking his granddaughter's asshole as gently as his aroused
body could manage. She imagined him spellbound, judging by the
rhythm of his words and the way he recited them so dreamily. Lisle
began to relax and even to respond, finally soaking in his touch and
his desire.
"Tight little asshole. So fucking tight. Take my cock baby. Take Papa's
cock deep!" he grunted.
He lost control and began to pound into her. Lisle struggled, her body
inching forward from every powerful thrust Papa delivered. A wail of
pain rose from her chest and she fought for air, but still Papa fucked
her. He drove his cock into her asshole again and again and Lisle
thought nothing had ever hurt more than what was happening to her
at that moment.
"But I'm your good little girl, Papa. Don't.please.stop. I'll be good. I'll
be good. Don't..."
He withdrew slowly and rubbed his cock against her soft skin, but
before she could sigh her relief or believe her ordeal over, he re-
entered and resumed his strong thrusts. Lisle screamed and reached
behind her to ward him off.
"Uh-uh. You take that cock right now!" He hissed. "You have no idea
how tight you are, how damp. Papa must have it, baby girl. You must
give it to me."
At last, he lowered his free hand, keeping the other firmly holding her
hip, and brushed his fingers across her clitoris. He remained incredibly
still, but Lisle felt his cock throb inside of her. She lurched violently,
surprised at the fervor of the sudden lust that raced through her.
Desperately, she reached down and held his hand in place, her body
seeking pleasure by pressing him against her swollen bud each time
he withdrew and re-entered.
"Ungh! Fucking nasty little girl. Do it! Fuck Papa's cock." Once more,
he slid his cock in and out of her asshole.
"D-don't Papa," she moaned, not believing that her pain could be
turning to pleasure so swiftly. "Please.don't.stop."
The force of his stabs caused her words to emerge in rushes of air.
She began to fuck back at last as she soared on a wave of carnal
delight, hurling her slight body backwards in a whirlwind of energy.
"Please.don't.stop. Please.don't.stop. Pleasedon'tstop.
Pleasedon'tstop! Don'tstop!" She cried out, low and loud, sliding his
fingers against her clit and meeting his thrusts in a furious dance of
flesh against flesh.
"Papa!" She screamed. "F-fuck.fuck.fuck.me! Fuck me, fuck me,
fuck me, fuck me! Fuck my ass, Papa, fuck my ass! Fuck your good
girl's ass!"
Lisle's grandfather groaned and clutched her close. He let loose and
drove her body across the lawn with tremendous force until blades of
grass stained their knees. She was lying down nearly, her shoulders
touching the ground, the smell of earth in her nose, and Papa's cock
tearing into her asshole again and again. She was going to cum, felt it
churning inside her, pleasure replacing pain just as she knew would
happen. She whimpered weakly and strove to meet every lunge while
she frantically worked on her clitoris. Above her, the man she loved
and would love forever did not relent. He plunged his thick meat into
her bowels, burying himself in her heat and calling out her name in a
frenzy of lusty pleasure.
"Oh, Lily! Lily, my angel. My baby.my sweet little girl.my baby.
Papa's cumming now. Ungh! Yes, take it, darling. Take Papa's cum.
Take it all." he hissed, clutching her close and convulsing around her
small body.
His semen burst from his body in powerful jets, and he filled her
asshole to overflowing. Lisle writhed, mindless in her pleasure, gasping
as she came violently in her Papa's hand.
"Papa...Papa...I'm cumming.I'm cumming," were the only words her
oxygen-starved lungs would allow as Lisle submitted to the perverted
pleasure that flowed from her cunt to the rest of her body. "Ohhhhh,
Papa...." She collapsed, her grandfather covering her trembling body
with his own.
He'd moaned for a long time afterward, lying on top of her in the grass
and nearly crushing her small body with his weight. He whispered her
name, "Lily," over and over as he tried to stroke her face. Slowly, he
moved and pulled his cock free. She turned over and stared at him for
a moment, then reached down and passed her hand over the still-
dripping head of his cock. With her eyes locked onto his, she raised
her hand and licked the palm, tasting the essence of both their bodies.
He tensed and trembled, hugging her tightly. "Oh, Lily, my sweet,
nasty baby. I love you so much," and he had cried in her arms.
Yes, Lisle remembered. She remembered everything, even the blow to
her head that had robbed her of the memory of Papa's love when they
came to take him away from her. She ran at the policemen with raised
fists to protect the man she loved, but one of them had tried to deflect
her, sending her flying into the stone fireplace. She'd awakened in the
hospital with no family to care for her and no one willing to help. She
cried as she remembered. She cried for the time lost.
*
Steven missed their regular Monday afternoon session without so
much as a cancellation notice. She missed his voice, the comfort of
familiarity, and the tantalizing pressures he applied to her personality
that kept her soul alive. She wanted to know if Steven was her
beloved Papa, and would sacrifice everything to find out.
She had all but given up, tossed her foolish dreams aside in a flurry of
renewed activity when Margaret rang in on Friday afternoon.
"It's Mr. Smith. He says it's urgent."
Lisle's heart almost burst from her chest it beat so hard. She told
Margaret to put the call through and picked up the telephone with
shaking hands.
"Lily." He said, out of breath, and shaking.
Lisle cursed the modulator and whispered his name, "S-Steven."
"You know that is not the proper way to address me, young lady. Can
I come to you? I've been traveling so that I can be near you. I need to
see you."
"I don't know. I'm frightened," Lisle answered.
"Shh, it's okay. I know you're scared, but you have to realize it will be
all right once we're together. Did you think about it? Did you
remember?"
Conflict erupted in her soul and Lisle's tears spilled over. "Are you my
Papa?"
"See me tonight and you will know. Please, Lily? I've missed you so
much."
Her hesitation was painful. She tugged at a stray strand of hair and
searched for the courage to say no. Instead, she heard a whispered
yes leave her lips. She gave him her address and they quickly said
their goodbyes.
*
Despite all her preparations, Lisle was unprepared for the emotion that
ripped through her when she saw Steven. He was the same, nearly.
He was almost exactly as her memories had described. He was tall, so
tall, and his hair was black with only a touch of new gray at the
temples, with deep brown eyes set against skin so tan he could only
be an outdoorsman. She blushed and stretched out her hand.
"Papa?"
"My darling Lily. Come to me, let me look at you." And he folded her
slight, five-foot body into those impossibly long arms. Lisle held still
and cried against his sweater, the scent of pipe tobacco and after-
shave carrying her away to the past. To a time when all she needed
was Papa's arms.
"I love you, Papa. Please, don't leave me again."
"Never, my angel, I adore you."
Julie Hypnotic
Posted By Nikki
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