Author: Julie Hypnotic
Title: Lisle Remembers
Summary: Memory is a powerful thing.  Lisle's memory is jarred by an 
unknown caller.
Keywords: Mf, anal, mast, intercourse, ped, oral


LISLE REMEMBERS 	


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."  
 
 
 
Copyright 2003 Julie Hypnotic
