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