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 ABV_Abbey1 Abbreviated Abbey



   Abbreviated Abbey {KatieKittyKat} (Mf tech med amp nc ped )
Author: KatieKittyKat
Title: Abbreviated Abbey
Summary: A young girl has an accident on her bike, sustaining serious
injuries, but
her Daddy is there to look after her.  Heart rending decisions have to

be made in order to save her life, but Daddy stays at her side through
everything she endures.
Keywords: Mf, tech, med, amp, nc, ped

   Thursday 16 January 2014



   Credits: This story was written by Katie, and based on one of Katie's
recent

   fantasies.



   Abbreviated Abbey



   *Recovery

   Abbey Dyer had always been a lovely child, happy, friendly, always
willing to help, and was dearly loved by her Mommy and Daddy from the
moment she was born.  Her name had been chosen by her Mommy, Susan Dyer,
after her favourite aunt, and she had been named Abigail on all the
official documents, but she was called Abbey by everyone she knew.  There
was only Grandma who called her Abigail on a regular basis, and her Mommy
used the Sunday name when she was in trouble.

   Michael Dyer had married Susan Thorpe when they were both in their mid
twenties, and had moved into a lovely large house in Rutland, Vermont. 
There were only three houses on the whole block, with another half dozen up
each of four side roads, all spread out like their own, and all dead ends,
so there was very little traffic.  There was forest behind the house, and
extensive meadowland, reaching miles in every other direction, which made
the location idyllic for both of them.

   Abbey had been sleeping such a long time, and yet she was still so very,
very tired that she could hardly lift her head or remember where she was,
even though she'd heard Daddy's voice in her room many times, yet stayed
deep asleep.  Daddy was calling her now, asking her to wake up and open her
eyes, his hand stroking her ear, and trailing his finger down her arm.  It
felt nice being touched so softly, but her arm ached really bad, as if
she'd been laid on it, although it wasn't as bad as last time, yesterday,
she thought, or maybe the day before, but Abbey couldn't recall waking on
either day.  It must have been a dream.  She screwed her face up as the
ache got worse, growing painful, till Daddy pressed a plastic Lego knight
into her hand, saying "Hold on to Lancelot my Lady, and use his shield to
protect your arm."

   Abbey quickly immersed herself in the game as Guinevere, taking the
bright shield from her bold Knight, and placing it at her side as the pain
eased a little, though she had no idea why she was hurting.  This was the
game Mommy and Daddy had taught her when she was poorly, and the medicine
wouldn't work properly, and it made the pain go further away.  Daddy was
talking softly to her, her eyelids fluttering open and closed as she roused
herself.  She was alright, Daddy said to her, she was safe now, and the
doctors had made her better, mended all the scratches, fixed the broken
bits as best they could so she wouldn't hurt anymore.  He held her face in
his hands now, keeping her eyes fixed on his as he explained that she'd had
an accident, but was now out of hospital, and back home, safe in her own
bedroom.

   Slowly she looked at her arm as Daddy talked to her about Mommy and
doctors and hospitals, and getting better, hardly hearing the words as she
looked at the tiny arm coming from her shoulder, just like Mommy's had so
long ago, yet almost yesterday inside her mind.  Abbey blinked her eyes,
wondering where her elbow was, and her lower arm with its pattern of
freckles, where had the jangly bangles on her wrist gone to, and the
wriggly fingers with pink painted nails.  Her mind would not accept that a
part of her was missing, till she looked over to her dresser, the
reflection so much like her one armed Mommy, with a pink nightie, and a
long braid wrapped round her slender neck.  Tears streamed down her cheeks
as she asked if she was going to go and join Mommy now, the image of the
last picnic they'd had together filling Abbey's mind with her central
supportive memory.

   Michael hugged his daughter close, as he assured her that she was young
and very strong, and would live to be as old as Grandma, and just as
cranky, which brought a little half smile to Abbey's face as they shared
the family joke her Grandma told.  Michael climbed onto her bed, up against
the pink headboard, and snuggled Abbey under his arm, cuddling and chatting
about all the things that had happened since the accident, and how she was
now nearly completely better.  She kept looking at her arm, the scar on the
end having been hidden with a white cotton sock, trimmed with lace that had
a pink ribbon through it to match her nightie, and she said it looked so
cute.  Using her good hand, Abbey removed the sock and studied the contours
of the stump, feeling the end of the bone, and the curvy scar where her
skin was sewn up.  It felt strange, but tingled as her fingers traced over
it, sending shivers right down her backbone.  There were no marks on her
other arm, or legs, where they had all been broken, as plaster casts had
been used to hold them while they healed, but Daddy showed her the tiny
scar on her inner calf where a piece of metal had stuck in her.

   Abbey had a vague memory of her tummy being hurt, but the details were
fuzzy, and when she ran her hand over her nightie down there, she
shuddered, saying she'd just pee'd, and she couldn't stop it.  Michael
laughed and said not to worry, she had a tube in there so she didn't have
to keep getting up while she was poorly, but now she was up and about, the
nurse would take it out during the day.  Abbey's eyes lit up at hearing
this, "Have I got a little bag as well, like Mommy had?" she asked, "You
didn't like emptying that; the nurse had to do it, and me.  I liked doing
that to help my Mommy." Leaning over the side of the bed to look, a little
voice said, "That's cool" not caring that her nightie was riding up and
showing her bare bottom to her Daddy, which he promptly slapped with his
hand, but not very hard.  Telling her to give up messing about, he took her
shoulders and pulled her back up again, onto her pillow.

   While Abbey had been distracted by another link to Mommy, her thoughts
soon went back to the accident, remembering a piece of metal sticking out
of her tummy as she tried so hard to block the horrible pain.  She was just
about to lift her nightie and find out how bad the damage had been, when
the actual event flooded into her memory, with torturous pain, and blood,
and sharp knives slicing her to pieces.  Abbey froze in place, terrified
now by thoughts of the destruction wreaked on the newly developed girl
parts she had been so proud of, a haunting image of being split in two. 
Michael saw her reaction, guessing what was now going through her young
mind, hugging her trembling body to him as he calmly promised her that
everything was alright now.  There was nothing to be frightened of, because
she was all better now, and at the time it had looked much worse than it
actually was.

   Slowly, Abbey eased up the hem of her nightie, baring her girl mound, as
she loved to do ever since it had started to fill out, changing from a flat
baby slit, to a grown up lady's mons, just like her Mommy, but not as
puffy. Yet.  There was a pink coloured line right down the centre, from a
two inch long T bar along her tummy crease, into the top of her cleft,
where it disappeared.  The pink scar was edged with white each side, and
she could feel the ridges where it raised up, as she stroked her finger
over her new shape.  It felt funny too, not as squishy as her mons, and not
as sensitive to the touch of her fingertip, and the indented scar had even
less feeling, with a dead spot every now and then.  Abbey happily described
her explorations to Daddy, every responsive feeling to her roving digits,
even the tiny tingles in her button, perfectly at ease with her body's
reactions.  Nudity and exploration had never been a taboo issue in Abbey's
home, whenever she was curious, there would always be an answer from Mommy
or Daddy, structured to her age and understanding, but always truthful. 
These youthful sexual surveys were never presented as being wrong, but
Abbey had understood from a very young age that some things were
inappropriate for others to accept, so she'd be discreet when it was
required.

   Michael explained to his daughter that there were still a few issues
with her recovery, especially her damaged pubis, which didn't want to knit
together properly, and they'd tried all sorts of ways to get it to heal,
but it kept peeling apart like bad sticky tape at the end of a few weeks.
While it was a problem, the doctor was confident they would find the right
mix of ingredients to hold her together, even if was Velcro, and they both
laughed when Abbey said she'd be like a pencil case.  It was nice to see
all the trauma hadn't destroyed the young girl's spirit, and Michael kissed
his brave little daughter.  He showed her the call button he'd had
installed, to let someone know if she needed anything, sending a call to a
pager that would always be carried by one of the staff, either the nurse,
the cook, or the housemaid, or Daddy when everyone else was off duty. 
Abbey buzzed it when Daddy told her, and a few minutes later, a pretty
nurse came in the bedroom, introduced herself as Nurse Janet, and asked if
she could help.  Michael asked her to arrange a drink and something to eat
for Abbey before the doctor arrived this afternoon, and they'd get her
washed up as well.

   Refreshments were weak apple juice and a thin soup, but Nurse Janet
promised she could have some ice cream in a couple of days, once her
stomach became used to a more regular diet.  Abbey wasn't allowed to feed
herself, that would come later, as she was trained to use one hand and the
stump of her other arm, but the nurse fed a spoonful at a time into her
mouth, then it was time to get her ready for the doctor.  First they had to
remove the catheter, so Nurse Janet slipped her nightie up and over her
head so they didn't get it dirty, then laid the naked girl on her back,
spread her legs wide so she could work between them, and rested her hand on
the cute slit.  Taking a syringe, she explained to Abbey that the catheter
had been blown up inside her so it didn't slip out, but she'd drain most of
it out, then it would be easier to pull the tube down her little pee hole.
The nurse left about 5ml in the balloon, then began to gently pull it out,
placing her thumb on Abbey's clitoris to lift it clear of her urethra,
watching the girl's expression as the balloon gradually stretched her
passage.  When Abbey showed signs that the enlargement was becoming overly
painful, Nurse Janet moved her thumb from side to side, stimulating the
little clit button to mask the pain.

   Michael felt a mild thrill as he watched the smaller version of his wife
twitching naked on her bed, her developing clitoris skilfully played by the
nurse as the catheter slid a little further out with each pull.  Placing
the child size catheter in a dish for disposal, Nurse Janet put some
soothing cream on her finger, rubbing it into the slightly open end of
Abbey's pee hole, massaging round, then up over the gently swollen button,
down the length of the groove, and finally over the cute trim petals. 
Abbey lay back passively as the nurse took care of her, her Daddy watching
with an approving smile, as she tingled deliciously between her legs.

   While the nurse tidied away all the pipes and bags, Michael helped his
daughter stand up, then walk to the bathroom under her own power, albeit a
little unsteady after six months of being in a pain free, induced hypnotic
trance.  During that period, she had been carried into the bathroom to be
cleaned under the shower, or soaked in a warm scented bath every other day,
either the nurse or her Daddy washing her with soap covered hands.  At that
time she had been almost unaware of what was happening to her, and she
retained no memories afterward, which was done to stop her recalling the
residual pain from her injuries, and the effects of the treatment. 
However, she was now fully aware of every sensation of touch on her skin,
as if her body was starving for this stimulation, drinking it up as Daddy's
hands washed her arms, and rubbed Mommy's favourite scented soap over her
little stump.  Moving over her chest to wash her breast buds, Michael
quickly massaged round each point with lots of suds, squeezing the teats as
they hardened, making Abbey purr like a kitten.  When he moved down her
tummy, his daughter took over washing her titties with her good hand, going
from one to the other, and then found that she could just reach her left
bud with the stump, pressing the rounded end against the mound and making
it jiggle.  Her nipples were even harder now, and when she stroked the scar
along the stiff button, it tingled nicely, both in her teat and in her
stump.

   Michael had washed all the way down Abbey's legs while she'd been
playing with her titties, and was now rubbing his soapy fingers over her
pubic mound, and down the cute girl cleft, making especially sure he
cleaned in the very top of the groove as she wriggled and purred even more
under both their touches.  Rinsing her down with a warm shower head,
Michael then wrapped her in a large fluffy towel, rubbing her dry as he
carried his daughter back to her bedroom.  Nurse Janet came over with a pot
of melon body butter, and began to moisturise the girl's face, gently
smoothing the cream into her forehead, cheeks, and chin, then down her neck
and shoulders.  Working along her good arm right down to her fingers, Janet
stroked the lotion till it was all absorbed, leaving a faint shimmer behind
on her lovely soft skin, before she did the same for the arm that had been
amputated, massaging it a little stronger into the end of the stump.  She
paid special attention to the scar tissue, knowing that the surgeon had
placed several clusters of nerve endings just below the surface of the skin
when he'd sewn it together, leaving it extremely sensitive to the touch.

   Nurse Janet worked quickly over the girl's upper chest, and then took
her time as she explained to Abbey that her blossoming breast buds needed
to be encouraged to firm up, pressing and squeezing the solid cones, then
pinching the stiff nipples.  With Abbey panting from rising passion at this
handling, the nurse moved quickly over the rest of the youngster's body,
telling her they must hurry, because the doctor would be here very soon. 
She did, however, take a few minutes to bend the girl over, and invite her
Daddy to watch as a lubricated finger played round her pink rosebud, then
slowly eased inside, going deeper and deeper till the knuckles were pressed
hard to the centre of Abbey's parted buttocks.  Crooking her finger, the
nurse twisted it round the delicate inner walls, hooking it under her tail
bone, and lifting her patient off her feet completely, before putting her
back, and slipping the finger out again.

   Nurse Janet told her the doctor had arrived, making her stand in the
middle of the floor, arms at her side, feet apart, and head up, waiting
quietly for him to enter.

   Doctor Ryan Goodwin was a specialist paediatric bone surgeon at the
Jacobs Health Centre, not far from Abbey's home, and he'd been a regular
visitor as his patient had gradually healed from her injuries.  Smiling as
he walked into the little girl's bedroom, he nodded to Michael and Nurse
Janet, and then walked over so he could introduce himself to Abbey.

   "Good morning my dear," he said pleasantly, "I'm Dr Ryan Goodwin, and
I've been trying to put you together.  So, how's my star patient feeling
today?"

   "I'm feeling pretty good, thank you doctor," Abbey responded politely,
"thank you very much for looking after me while I was poorly.  I hope I
wasn't any trouble, only I can't remember, but if I was, trouble that is,
then I apologise."

   Dr Godwin tousled her fringe, then pulled up a chair to sit in front of
her, bringing his height down to her level, then reached out to gently take
hold of the stump of her arm, lifting it so he could study its condition.
Moving it across her chest, he checked how close it came to her breast,
putting pressure on the shoulder joint till the end of her short arm was
pressing the nipple deep into her underdeveloped tittie mound.  Abbey was
wincing a little as her shoulder stretched, so Dr Goodwin asked if she was
in any pain.

   "Just a little bit," the girl responded, "in my shoulder joint, and some
near the end of my stump, but that depends on which way you bend my arm. 
Sometimes it's on the front, and sometimes round the back, just here."

   Dr Goodwin ran his fingers over the spots that Abbey had indicated,
pressing here and there, telling the girl to explain exactly what she was
feeling at each touch, as he applied more pressure to each point.

   "It aches like I've been laid on it," Abbey explained, frowning, "but it
feels more like it should really, really hurt, not just ache like this." Dr
Goodwin pressed much harder, his finger sinking into her muscle, asking
again.  "Now it seems ever so painful when I think about it," the youngster
continued, "but it's still only an ache like before, not any worse, not any
better."

   "Well done Abbey," the doctor commended her, "you are a remarkable girl,
and are responding very well to your treatments.  While you were in
hospital with us, we have improved your pain control beyond what Lancelot
could do for you, although you did an excellent job.  You see my darling,
while your Daddy had to cut off your arm at the elbow to free you, we had
to do a lot more work to put you back together, so needed a hypnotherapist,
a man called Steve Waters, to give you some more complex help.  Your Mommy
and Daddy worked very well with you, teaching you a wonderful coping
method, but you had to be awake, and strong to manage it, and this was way
above those skills.  Steve gave you lots of help while you were asleep, and
he will explain a bit of it to you over the next few weeks, as he gives you
more training.  What he did, was left you aware of the pain as you feel it
happen, but prevented you from having to respond to it, except at an
acceptable level, such as the ache you now feel.  It's as if you know it
hurts terribly, so you won't ignore it in an accident, but you're not
afraid of it, and you can keep it at a level you can manage, under your own
control."

   The doctor continued his explanation of the injuries she'd sustained;
first the right arm had been amputated below the shoulder joint, rather
than above the elbow, making it look nicer, especially when it was dressed
in the sock.  The end of the bone had been crushed, with lots of splits
along its length, the worst had been cut off, and the remainder sealed up,
with a steel adaptor being fitted into the end.  Her muscles had been
trimmed a little so they could fasten them onto the lower end of her arm,
giving her the ability to move the arm about, with half of her strength
remaining.  Most of the damage had healed by this point, but there were
still a few tiny fractures in the bone which were being awkward, so they
would continue giving those some therapy.

   Examining Abbey's good hand, Dr Goodwin told her she'd had multiple
fractures to this arm, twisting and pressing where the breaks had been,
asking how that felt, but everything was fine there, the girl confirmed. 
Next, he moved to both legs where she had cracked the femur in both of her
thighs, one in the top half, one in the lower half, his fingers working
along the bones, through the muscles, making Abbey giggle as he found her
ticklish spots.  When he moved to her lower legs, the doctor showed off the
almost invisible scar where they had removed a piece of metal from her
calf, and a very good cosmetic surgeon had closed up the wound so it
blended perfectly.  The lower bones had broken as well, the right fibula,
the smaller bone, had snapped near the top, while the left tibia had
sustained a very large crack along its length.  All of the injuries had
healed enough to be used again, so at least she could walk about, while the
final part of the healing would soon settle down.  Being in casts for so
long meant her muscles would be very weak, so a physiotherapist would visit
to take her through some exercise routines, and build up her strength,
though it would be a long time before she could do the gymnastic tumbles
she used to enjoy.

   Dr Goodwin manipulated Abbey's shoulder blades, and the clavicles,
finding all the little pain spots were still there, telling the young girl
that all that bouncing around behind the truck had left tiny micro
fractures in all these places, so they were trying a brand new procedure to
assist the healing.  They had injected little beads onto each crack in her
bones, and when they passed an ultrasound transmitter over them, they would
resonate at a frequency that should stimulate her bones to knit together.
It's a bit unstable at the moment, but they are going to work on the
frequency range to get the right one for Abbey's bone type.

   There was a similar problem with her lower ribs, and pelvis, so the
doctor hooked his fingers under her rib cage, told Abbey to concentrate on
any pain that may begin to increase, then pulled her ribs outwards, Abbey
quickly letting him know that it was hurting.  The pain control techniques
were still working, so she only really felt an ache there, but she could
sense the background agony in her fragile bones.  It was exactly the same
when he dug his fingers deep into the front of her hips, and pushed down.
The final bone problem was in her pubis, so he told Abbey that he needed to
reach to the back of that bone, which meant he had to put a finger right
inside her vagina, and not to be frightened since it wouldn't hurt, and
he'd be very gentle.

   Abbey technically wasn't a virgin, since her youthful explorations of
her own body had broken her hymen when she was little, and since it felt
really good, she often put her fingers into the warm hole, to make it
tingle nicely.  However, this was the first time someone else had put
anything inside her, other than a thermometer inside her mouth, and an
enema pipe in her bottom when she couldn't go on her own.  She had no idea
how many different things had been inside her cleft while she'd been
asleep, or how many enemas had pumped up her little tummy till it bulged
out.  Night-time is quite busy in a hospital, where unconscious patients
don't have to be seen to during normal hours, and bored staff are looking
for entertainment.  Dr Goodwin's finger slid easily into the young vagina,
pausing to stroke an immature G-spot a few times, then going deeper,
curving forward, and pressing against the back of the pubis symphys.  As
the pelvic joint flexed outward, Abbey told the doctor that it was hurting
on both sides, one of them a bit higher up than the other, so he traced a
finger over the edge of her pubic mound, saying there was a small crack on
that side, then traced along her groin, where a second crack had been
detected.

   Removing his finger from her vagina, with another twitch from Abbey as
he touched her G-spot again, Dr Goodwin told her these were injuries she'd
got in the accident, but he had also noticed that her hips were a little
late fusing together, considering her maturity of development.  Taking a
marker pen, he drew the outline of all her hip bones onto her skin,
particularly the pubis on each side, leaving a black skeleton on her body,
which Abbey told him looked Ace.  Using a red marker, the doctor drew in
the lines where the separate bones should have fused together on each side,
telling Abbey that the x-rays showed no ossification at any of these
points. While this was a somewhat unusual condition, no two people ever
developed at the same rate, and she would probably catch up with her
friends in a couple of years.  There were some areas that she was well
advanced in, he told her, reaching out to massage her little breast buds,
telling her to watch as the teats became swollen and erect, and she'd
agreed that none of her friends did that.  Dr Goodwin then squeezed her
bare pubic mound, delineating its edges with his finger, saying it was
equivalent to someone two years older than her, and he'd bet all her
girlfriends still had a flat tummy, with a tiny split down it.  Abbey told
him she was really proud that her mound had grown to look like her Mommy's,
and she smiled happily when the doctor said she was just as beautiful as
her.

   Dr Goodwin asked Abbey if she understood what he'd explained to her, and
if she was happy with what they planned to do, assuring her that everyone
was doing their best to help her get well.  While she didn't look at all
happy, nevertheless, Abbey said she was alright with most of what the
doctor said, and was really grateful for looking after her, but it still
frightened her that she would end up dying like Mommy had.  She didn't mind
being with Mommy again, that would be lovely, but there were masses of
things she'd not done yet, and she also didn't want to leave Daddy all on
his own, a small trickle of tears starting to flow.

   "Don't you worry about all that, little one," Dr Goodwin smiled as he
cupped her wet cheek in his hand, "we are going to hang onto you for as
long as we can.  Mr Waters is coming round to visit this afternoon, so I'll
ask him to do something to ease your anxieties, and put a smile on that
pretty face." Leaning forward, he kissed her on the forehead, saying his
goodbyes to everyone, then turned and left.

   Despite the doctor's encouragement, Abbey was still feeling sad about
being poorly, so she went to her Daddy for a cuddle, which always worked,
plonking her little bare bottom on his lap, and snuggling her head into his
neck.  Michael instinctively knew what his daughter needed, so he kissed
her head as his hand stroked her warm skin with a loving, gentle touch, and
she was soon purring like a kitten.  He looked down at the short stump of
her arm, his fingers tracing the sensitive scar, which he almost knew for
certain would make her feel good, his mind wandering to the lovely wife he
had lost a few years ago, also to a traffic wreck, though more serious than
Abbey's.

   Michael and Susan had enjoyed amputee fantasies as part of their love
play, the hot thrill of taking pleasure from a disabled body turning them
both on massively.  He still had a box of flesh coloured bandages in the
closet, remembering how he would fold Susan's arm back, then wrap it
tightly so it was half the normal length, with no visible fingers.  They
would take turns to disable each other, sometimes just one of them, or both
together, Michael with one leg, Susan with one arm, or no arms, both of
them pulled together behind her back, her shoulders narrow and sleek.  When
the initial shock of Susan's accident had settled a bit, and the pain meds
had kicked in, they were both able to see the brighter side of her
injuries, with the reality being far more erotic than their role play had
ever been.  They'd even managed a little bit of loving when the nurses were
busy, and Abbey was asleep in the chair, Michael stroking Susan's clit
under the covers, while she used her larger arm stump to rub his cock, and
worked the shorter one beneath his shirt.  They only just managed to stuff
his erection back in his trousers before the nurse came back in the room,
then Susan got told off for not taking her husband in her mouth when he
came, because now the nurse had to change Susan's nightie, since the front
was covered in spunk.  They all laughed about it, since it was a friendly
reprimand, and Susan told the nurse it was her own fault for coming back
too soon and making them rush.

   Michael considered himself fortunate that Abbey's injuries hadn't been
as extensive as Susan's, and he was determined to give her all the support
she needed.  Even the thought of bathing her little amputated arm was
making him grow erect, but he was comfortable with that, since there was no
problem in their house with nudity, sexual arousal, or bodily functions. 
He'd been somewhat anxious shortly after the accident, when he spent a lot
of time at Abbey's bedside, and helped with a lot of her personal needs,
but Steve Waters had been a great help to him.  Their little chats were
always reassuring, and he felt so at ease just talking about his feelings,
and his fears, with Steve.  He was never judgemental, or even offered any
advice, merely discussing both sides of any issue, and leaving it up to
Michael what to do.  He was such a nice, pleasant guy, always ready to give
help, and Michael would be so engrossed in their conversations that the
time just seemed to vanish.  Even thinking about the support they were
getting had distracted him from his worries, and he'd been sat for nearly
an hour, just cuddling his beautiful little daughter, who had fallen asleep
sometime, without him even noticing.

   Carefully, he placed Abbey on her bed, always on the top during the day,
under the covers was for night time, and she'd grown out of the habit of
sleeping curled up, so now she slept on her back, starfish position.  If he
placed her on her side, or she had rolled over, she would wriggle about
till she was once more on her back, arms to the top corners, legs spread
wide to the bottom corners.  Once in this totally displayed position, she
would lie there peacefully until someone woke her, so he bent and set a
kiss on her lips, paused a moment, then kissed each hard nipple, then
neatly laid out her girl cleft.  With her thighs widely parted, her outer
labia had parted, but he eased them further open, her clitoris was
beginning to emerge, so he gripped the glans and the hood, pulling them
away from each other, baring the shaft to the air.  The final touch was her
thin inner lips, already showing in her groove, developing so quickly since
she'd been in hospital, which he gripped between his fingers, pulling each
one further and further out till the flesh started to turn white.  He held
them both there for a while, then took each one at top and bottom,
stretching them lengthwise before laying each one back onto the fatter
outer lips, the copious lubrication making them stick together.  Stepping
back, he admired the lovely flower of her girlhood, on exhibition to
whoever walked past her bed.  He knew that by the time she woke, the girl
juice would have completely dried, and Abbey would happily peel her lips
apart.

   Steve Waters arrived just after 2pm, the housekeeper showing him into
the lounge, obediently lifting her skirt so that he could approve her blue
satin panties, trimmed in white lace with satin rosebuds.  When he thanked
her, she dropped her hem, and went to inform Mr Dyer of his arrival,
mentally admonishing herself for imagining that she had displayed her
underwear to a house guest, and such a good looking one.  She knew it was
wrong to even think of exposing herself like this, the humiliation of a man
seeing her exposed in this way made her shudder, even in her sordid
fantasy, so goodness knows how she would feel if it happened in real life,
it was disgusting.  Merely a simple query from him about the evening meal
had made her pussy spasm with pleasure, and she'd only said there would be
carrots on the menu, and she had immediately thought how nice it would be
to push one in her twitching love slot.  When she returned to the kitchen
she had acted on her filthy thoughts straight away, masturbating with a
freshly peeled vegetable to the very point of orgasm, then found she was
unable to tip over into a peak of pleasure, but didn't know why.  She tried
for a few more minutes, and then left the carrot deep inside her, pulling
up her panties to hold it in place until she returned home.  The woman
shuddered with revulsion at herself for having such a wanton imagination.
What she needed was a spanking.

   Steve loved his work as a hypnotherapist, it had so many fringe
benefits, and he was still amazed at just how easy it was to get almost
anyone to do exactly as he wanted, with no objections on their part. 
Michael Dyer's housekeeper was putty in his hands now that he'd helped her
overcome her anxieties about losing the job her livelihood depended on. 
First Mrs Susan had died, and Mr Michael spent lots of time at home with
Abbey, but still kept her on, now Miss Abbey was recovering and he spent
even more time in the house.  He could easily have done the housework
between looking after his daughter, but Michael told her she was almost
part of the family, and yet she still worried.  Steve had discussed helping
her after Michael had suggested it, and within ten minutes she had agreed
to two half hour therapy sessions a week for the next month, all of which
made her relieved that he would help her.  It wasn't much of a problem
getting her agreement, since Steve had put her in a mild trance after only
a few minutes, immediately reinforcing her trust in him, and everything he
told her.  He didn't try anything serious with the woman, who always
dressed nicely, but after a few compliments, she willingly opened her
blouse as she continued chatting with him.  When he suggested her nipples
were itching, she calmly pulled a breast from her lace bra, and rubbed her
teat with the soothing cream from a tube of cool mustard he handed her.  He
set up all the regular explanations he used, to allow her to fill in the
details herself of a very pleasant and helpful conversation they'd had, and
to suffer her sore nipples for an hour, before cleaning them in the
bathroom with a stiff nail brush until she had cum from the stimulation.

   The therapy sessions and nothing to do with easing her anxiety, the
first two minutes had implanted an implicit trust in her employer, and a
subconscious satisfaction that everything would be OK.  The therapy was to
find out what drives and weaknesses the woman had, and work them to his,
and her, advantage.  She was a single parent of two teenage children, a
girl and a boy, separated from her husband, and sexually unsatisfied. 
She'd had a strict and morally repressive childhood, and constantly had to
fight her desire to masturbate, which she was mostly successful with, but
suffered terrible guilt when she gave in to her urges.  He'd picked up a
couple of incidents in her list of humiliating moments when a neighbour boy
had seen her changing from his bedroom window, so he'd carefully nurtured a
desperate need in her to be seen in her underwear.  When she was in his
presence, these would be rationalised as a fantasy, but she would lift her
skirt, or open her blouse whenever he suggested it to her, and suffer
terrible shame afterward.  He also increased her need to masturbate, while
reducing her inhibitions in that area, making her pick up on any phallic
object that was mentioned.

   When Michael came to greet him, Steve asked how Abbey was coping,
pleased to hear that all the techniques and triggers he'd put in place were
functioning as he had planned, and now that she was awake, it was time to
take the young girl to a deeper level of control.  Michael was quite happy
with the more extensive blocks that Steve had put in for his daughter to
manage her pain, without the side effects that drugs always induced.  The
two men had long conversations about what Steve Waters was doing to his
daughter, but it was for her own good, and Steve had given him a lot of the
trigger phrases to look after the girl as and when needed.  Michael had
also had much benefit from Steve's help himself, just to cope with the
traumatic aftermath of the accident, and the possibility of losing his
daughter the same way he lost his wife.

   Steve was very easy to talk to, and seemed to know all the right things
to say in the topics they discussed, even about the amputee fantasies that
he and Susan shared, and how they'd been enhanced by her accident.  He
fully supported Michael's current transference of those feelings to Abbey,
helping him to enjoy his daughter's modified shape, and downplaying the
sexual connection, tying it to the liberal attitude they'd always had as
parents.  One of the major advances Steve had brought about, was an
increase in the amount of time Abbey spent in pretty clothes, mainly
nighties, with a leaning to the more frilly, erotic styles, most of them
see-thru, rather than the little girl ones.  In his work with Abbey, Steve
had learned that the child loved this type of sexy clothing when Susan wore
it, and it was one of her strong connections to her Mom, that, and nudity,
particularly naked cuddles, which Steve wholeheartedly encouraged in all
those who were dealing with the girl.  The nudity issue was surprisingly
easy to get established, and Abbey now spent 80% of her time completely
naked, and often she would be posed to reveal all those lovely little
places that girls possess.

   It had taken Steve about three weeks, working in the hospital with
Abbey, essentially on her pain control and lack of consciousness
techniques, but a good portion of that was spent to instil two sleeping
positions into her that the youngster would find fully relaxing and
comfortable.  The first was on her back, spread eagle, legs stretched as
wide as possible to display the cute little girl cleft that was just
developing, and with a bit of encouragement, her tiny clitoris was being
taught to respond.  A lot of the work was done during the night, when Abbey
was asleep, ostensibly so as not to interfere with the nurse's day routine,
and Steve's commitments elsewhere.  In fact, the night staff were a lot
more amenable to bending the rules, especially without much of the
management tier on site, and there was a spirit of co-operation amongst the
group.  Anyone likely to cause trouble was monitored, so that plenty of
warning could be given to those taking their pleasure with a carefully
selected group of patients, and things would quickly be put back to normal,
or else hidden till the coast was clear.

   Little Abbey soon became just as big a favourite with the night staff as
she was with their daytime counterparts, except with much more nefarious
motives.  In order to accustom Abbey to remaining spread eagled, she would
be tied to the bed at wrist and ankles, with a special binding on the stump
of her arm that wouldn't hurt her.  She was far too young to be fucked like
the other patients were, but single fingers were allowed to delve gently to
the uppermost reaches of a tight vagina, or an even tighter bottom, while
her cute breast buds attracted every sucking mouth.  By the time morning
came round, little Abbey was totally covered in spunk, her nipples swollen
and rock hard, and her clit solidly erect as she was released from her
bonds.  A few carefully chosen keywords from the nurse and all the night's
memories would disappear, to be replaced with Abbey's own selection of her
favourite dreams, cats, rabbits, and playing with Mommy.  Along with two or
three very short scenes, of her nipples stretched to twice their length,
cocks pumping sperm onto her, or a needle pushed slowly down the shaft of
her tiny clitoris, just to keep her mind aware of such things.

   Abbey's other sleeping position was face down, puffy breast buds on the
bed, and a cute bottom sticking up in the air, with her knees wide apart so
every intimate detail was openly presented.  Once again, her two available
holes were worked on with well lubricated fingers, and they had a nightly
sweepstake to see how much enema fluid could be pumped into her bottom
before her belly button popped out.  Since this was not an area targeted
for pain control, the young girl would wriggle and squirm in her sleep as
the various ingredients of her enema fluid irritated her bottom, her bowel,
and most of her colon.  The nozzle was quite small to begin with, but since
Abbey's bottom was even smaller, it still needed to be pushed in firmly,
sometimes taking several attempts, and occasionally as many as six, before
the nurse was satisfied.

   Dr Ryan Goodwin had an extensive range of protocols which he had
enrolled Abbey onto, only a few of which her father was aware of, but Steve
Waters was involved in the overall plan since he first came on board to
support Abbey's pain control.  While hypnotherapy was not one of Ryan's
preferred techniques, in his initial discussions with Steve the man had
presented sufficient evidence of success to recommend him to the doctor. 
Ryan was quite surprised when Steve invited him to visit some of his past
successes, a divorced mother with two teenage daughters, and a private
girls school where the teaching staff had all been conditioned, as well as
the whole first form, and their mothers as well.  He was truly impressed by
how well a large team could perform when everyone did as they were told,
and invited Steve to condition some key members of the hospital staff.

   Conditioning the team was something Steve was interested in since it
would provide a different environment to the domestic and school setup he
was used to, with some unique safeguards to manage, as well as the specific
scenarios that may develop.  The plans that Ryan had for Abbey seemed to be
too ruthless and invasive at first glance, but they had several discussions
around her family background that tied in to some of the project goals, and
several side projects involved some really enjoyable advantages for the
girl.  In the end Steve had agreed to take part, but reserved the right to
veto some of the future procedures if he considered them to be too extreme
for Abbey's best interests.  He's not mentioned it at the time, but he had
built some fail safe triggers into Abbey's basic conditioning that would
make her non-functional if she wasn't allowed to speak to him for two
months.  He had an uneasy feeling that Dr Goodwin might dispense with his
services once Abbey had finally been set up for the project, in order to
by-pass his veto, but Steve would now have a bargaining chip to play if
needed.

   During his early sessions with Michael, when Steve was trying to lessen
the man's deep anxiety about amputating his daughter's arm, he'd been
getting him to focus on how strongly he loved the young girl, when he began
to detect an erotic side to those feelings.  Steve had taken his trance a
couple of levels deeper while he looked around Michael's memories and his
reactions to incidents when the girl was growing up, and exploring her
body. They were very supportive of her journeying into all the interesting
feelings that these delicate places could produce, but Michael and Susan
would get turned on watching the girl touch herself almost to the point of
orgasm.  Their lovemaking after these sessions was much, much more intense
than usual, and they both admitted their lovely daughter was the cause of
it, though neither one wanted to involve Abbey directly.  This awareness of
sexual pleasure that Abbey had was something Steve could make very good use
of, and he began to put her through mental associative exercises, linking
her injuries, the arm, the scar on her calf, and on her pubis, to
sensations in her nipples and clitoris, and the lining of her vagina.

   In their therapy sessions, he had Abbey's pain suppression gradually
reduce itself while he was playing with her nipples, stepping up the
stimulation as the pain grew more intense, and moving from site to site,
both pain sites and pleasure sites.  At first he kept the pain higher than
the pleasure, the stimulation of her sexual areas being just a distraction,
to take the edge off the pain.  After a few weeks, Steve rebalanced the
feelings to be slightly more pleasure than pain, then a lot more, and
finally the pain in her stump would have her sexually aroused to the edge
of climax, yet not quite there.  When Abbey could subconsciously arouse her
body to near peak levels every time, Steve introduced a mental block on
reaching satisfaction, and even if he assisted digitally, or manually with
a vibrator, she was unable to orgasm without first being given explicit
permission.  This denial didn't leave the girl frustrated, but hungry for
more, and incredibly on edge in a warm and tingly way.  If she worked
herself up to three near peaks in a row, a control would kick in to reduce
her arousal for at least an hour.  He also inserted a trigger phrase to
dampen her sexual sensitivity to below that normal for a girl her age, so
that she could be presented as immature if needed.

   All of this had been accomplished alongside Abbey being shut down to
survival level while her more serious injuries had a chance to heal, but
now that she was a little bit more mobile, they were going to keep her
active during the day, but have her deeper under during the sleep period.
Michael and Steve went up to Abbey's cute bedroom, where the girl was still
asleep in her starfish spread, her lovely nudity on show for the two men to
enjoy.  Steve went over to admire the presentation of her vaginal flower,
complimenting Michael for arranging his daughter so beautifully,
particularly the full emergence of her clitoris, which was entirely
exposed, despite its immature stage.  Michael admitted that he'd been
working on Abbey's growing clit, with the nurse's help, since she'd come
home from the hospital, after he realised that she was built just like her
Mommy, and could be encouraged to develop into an astounding girl.

   Of course, Michael had no idea that Steve had engineered this desire in
him, based on a father's arousal by a precocious young child, and their
liberal attitude to sexual development, it had just needed him to relax his
inhibitions a little.  The nurse had an agenda of her own to follow; being
a long-time lover of little girls, with a slightly cruel side to her, so
after a confidential discussion with Dr Goodwin she'd been more than
willing to help further one of his projects.  She agreed with the doctor's
view that few girls reached their full potential for sexual arousal, and
Abbey would benefit greatly from a fully retractable clitoral hood, and a
shaft with increased sensitivity.  Steve had added this to one of her
therapy sessions, along with a few hints on how to involve Abbey's Daddy in
helping with his daughter's personal hygiene, building on desires Michael
was already coming to terms with.  She would have him pull Abbey's little
hood away from her clit, stretching them both, while the nurse worked a
scraper in between the two sections, twisting around the area where they
joined together.  Nurse Janet always prepared Abbey with a trigger phrase
that turned down her pain control to her vaginal area, which meant her
pubic wounds provided a constant buzz in the background, while the more
intense pain of her hood being slowly torn away from her tender clit had
her wriggling on the bed.  It was never stripped back very far, but Abbey
had a mental image of a long banana being peeled, or Mommy pulling wax
strips from her smooth legs, and the resulting pain would last for several
days.  When Abbey had complained of a throbbing down there, Nurse Janet
would apply some cream for her, sometimes soothing, others tingling, often
irritating her clitoris for several hours.  Gradually, she would turn
Abbey's pain control back up to normal.

   Steve began talking to Abbey, slowly raising her from the sleep state,
increasing her sense of wellbeing and happiness, and adding a background of
sexual arousal from an imagined erotic dream she'd just enjoyed.  As she
fully awoke, Steve had her stay still while they raised the pillow section
of her bed, then complimented her on being such a pretty young girl,
drawing her attention to her displayed vaginal flower, and how beautiful it
looked.  Abbey was still in a mild trance, making her suggestible, so he
had her run her fingertips over the warm petals, and stroke the tip of her
clitoris, building her awareness of the pleasure running through her. 
Taking her trance one stage deeper, he tied a thin thread round each of her
nipples, wrapping it tightly so it was quite painful, then pulling on each
thread as Abbey now squeezed her erect clit, linking the pain in her
nipples to the pleasure in her clit.  Gradually Abbey mixed the sensations
in her mind, pleasure and pain switching places every few seconds till
Steve handed her the threads to pull herself, and a final sharp tug made
her cum in front of them.

   With the after tremors of orgasm still rippling through her body, Abbey
followed as Steve showed her where to put pressure through the scar on her
arm, directly onto the end of her still healing, shattered humerus.  As the
pain increased, Steve began to massage her throbbing clitoris, then had
Abbey take over, building a sequence of pleasure and pain in her mind.  He
would stop her for a moment, and then get her to pick up the series once
more, pain in her arm, pleasure in her clit, linking the two in an
intertwined sensation that built gradually almost to a sexual peak, and
then trailed off just before its completion.

   Getting Abbey up from her bed, Steve took her over to the dressing
table, and told her to select one of her round hairbrushes, one without the
protective balls on the ends of the bristles, and place it on the pink
upholstered bench in front of the table.  Next she had to spread her labia
as she sat on the round hairbrush, so that the spiky bristles rubbed
against the tender pink inner surface of her groove, and her clitoris as it
stuck out from its hood.  Steve placed two pairs of pink pliers on the pink
lace runner, next to Abbey's hairbrushes, telling her to pick one up, and
then pointed out the flat end, about the size of the end of her pinky
finger, and the serrations on the inner surface of the jaws.  Holding the
pink pliers in her good hand, Abbey obediently pointed them towards her
breast bud when Steve told her, gently gripping the erect teat between the
steel jaws, then squeezing the handles together to the point where her
nipple just started hurting.

   Telling the young girl that this treatment was to make her tiny nipples
grow big and strong, so that she would be able to feed a baby when she grew
up, and also make it feel really nice when someone wanted to play with her
titties, or to suck on them.  Steve took a few moments to firmly embed into
young Abbey's mind the importance of performing this part of her beauty
ritual each morning and night, right after she had brushed her hair, then
continued with the specific instructions.  He made her put a bit more
pressure on the handles, feeling how the pressure was painful through her
teats, then reduce squeezing till it reached a background ache, before
building up to a slightly higher level.  Slowly increasing the level of
pain each time she put on more pressure, Abbey was gradually taken to her
limit of pain tolerance without any help from her suppression techniques.
Steve then had her repeat the sequence on her other breast bud, while he
showed Michael how the flesh of her pink nipple was being slowly crushed,
without causing any serious damage.  He used Abbey's other nipple as an
example, indicating the slight swelling, and an increased pinkness to the
flesh, and then asking Michael to rub his fingers across it, making his
daughter moan and shudder.

   Abbey was next made to repeat the procedure a second time on each
nipple, but this time she was to rock her hips backwards and forwards, as
if riding a horse, which slid her girl cleft along the bristles she was
sitting on.  Steve began linking the sensations together inside her mind,
each pain starting a stab of pleasure, each bit of pleasure balancing a
growing pain, one feeding off the other.  He added another requirement into
the sequence, that Abbey must squeeze each teat a total of ten times,
starting with a pain level she could just feel, then building the pain to
the top of what she could stand.

   When the young girl had completed her second cycle, Steve invited
Michael to join him in rolling his daughter's crushed nipples between their
fingers, explaining to poor Abbey that this would reduce the amount of
damage caused, by reshaping the nipples into cute pink cylinders again.  Of
course, it made Abbey moan afresh as her tender buttons were rolled and
pulled, and she wriggled on her spiky seat, building a painful pleasure
between her thighs.  It wasn't long before more aspects of her nipple
development were added, stretching the teats out as far as possible,
twisting them round at least a quarter turn in each direction, and then
changing the alignment of the pliers to squeeze from the sides, instead of
from top and bottom.

   The final addition made clear why there were two pairs of pliers, while
Abbey only had one good hand, because if there was someone in authority in
the room while she was working on her breast improvement, she would have to
ask them for help with the other side.  She now asked her Daddy if he would
please help her to make these little titties grow big and strong, just like
Mommy's, and held out her pliers for him to crush and stretch his
daughter's tiny breast buds.  Steve told her that because a grown-up was
now in charge, she wouldn't be in control of how hard the pliers got
squeezed; instead, she would have to squeeze her pair as strongly as
whoever was helping her.  Michael was quite gentle with Abbey to begin
with, but this was one of the games he would play with his wife, Susan, and
was soon using much more force than his daughter had been, even getting her
to stretch her nipples upwards, instead of straight out.  By the time they
had finished, Abbey was in floods of tears, but she was humping the
hairbrush like there was no tomorrow.  Michael hugged her tight as he
praised her courage, and thanked her for letting him help.

   There was another stage to the early development of young Abbey's sexual
function that Dr Goodwin wanted the girl to get herself involved in, and
Steve now took the girl down to the garage, reminding her that she was
still naked, and the housekeeper would probably see her swollen pink
nipples, and the girl juice glistening on her legs.  Carefully adding this
situation into her mind set, he adjusted her usual casual view on nudity to
include the humiliation most girls of her age would feel at their sexual
areas being seen by others, but he linked the shame she felt to a rush of
excitement in those specific areas.  When they walked through the kitchen
towards the garage door, the housekeeper did indeed notice Abbey's swollen
nipples, since Steve had already built that into her conditioning when he
arrived earlier.

   The housekeeper came over to them, telling Abbey how nice it was to see
her up and about, and saying how beautiful her nipples looked, running her
fingers across them, and then giving each tender nub a hard squeeze.  She
told the young girl that the boys at school were going to love the way they
would stick through her blouse, and she'd love it too, judging by how wet
she was already.  Taking the corner of her apron, the housekeeper dabbed
the shiny trails on Abbey's thighs, then wiped along her girl cleft, from
her bottom to her throbbing clit, giving her a kiss on the forehead, and
telling her to run along with her Daddy.

   Michael stood and watched, smiling as the housekeeper played comfortably
with his daughter, glad that the woman took an interest in the girl's
progress and happiness, and that Abbey's developing body was being noticed.
All of these were considered to be normal responses by Michael, his
conditioning by Steve Waters helping him to accept them as a father's
natural concerns for his daughter.  He also had an implicit trust in Dr
Goodwin, an excellent paediatric bone surgeon, who came highly praised by
the medical community, and this trust had been made unassailable during
many of his support sessions with Steve.  At the moment, anything the
doctor said was in Abbey's best interests would be readily accepted, and if
Michael had any lingering doubts he was programmed to rationalise them in
whatever way was agreeable with his moral standing.

   As they walked into the garage, Michael looked again at the machine Dr
Goodwin had arranged to be delivered a few days ago, still not sure exactly
what its function was, but confident that it was needed for his daughter's
recovery and treatment.  Steve, however, had been fully briefed on its
operation, showing Abbey where to place her feet in the shaped cups, and
how to push her toes forward to activate the ankle straps, without having
to reach down to them.  She was straddling a narrow piece of wood, with a
rounded top, and a short protrusion coming out half way along its length,
about one inch long, made of pink plastic topped by a tapered end.  Taking
hold of Abbey's hips, Steve helped guide her as he told the girl to sit her
bottom onto the pink taper, so it would hold her in position, and the
machine could work properly.  Abbey gave a little squeak as it slipped
through her anal ring, settling her weight on the wooden beam, but finding
that it sank down beneath her about four inches, until it clicked into
place.  Steve pointed out to Michael that the locating peg was fixed, so it
now penetrated five inches inside his daughter's rectum, and would limit
any effort to pull back in the event of discomfort.  Abbey complained that
the thin board was in her girl cleft, and starting to hurt, but was assured
she wouldn't notice it in a minute or two.

   Steve showed her where to place her good hand through a padded hole in
the frame so she could grip a lever like the brake handle on her bike, then
turn a another lever on the front, using her stump.  This closed a clamp
round her wrist, holding it in place firmly, but when Abbey tried to push
the lever back, to free herself, it wouldn't move, which Steve explained
was because she would have to complete the full treatment once she'd
started with her feet on the footplate.  When Abbey asked what the thing
was supposed to do, Steve turned a wheel at one side, showing Michael and
Abbey how it worked, in a demonstration mode.  A small shelf came up
beneath her breast buds, resting against the bottom of the mound, then a
bar rotated in front of her to bring two glass tubes in line with her
nipples, and a further tube between her legs, in front of her clitoris. 
When the device was operating properly, these tubes would go further
forward, to fit a flared end actually over her nipples and clitoris, then
suction would draw them along the length of the glass tubes.  He drew their
attention to the small copper bands inside the tubes, telling Abbey these
would make her tingle if she was using the machine correctly, or let her
know if she wasn't paying attention.

   Starting the machine up, Steve put it on a low setting, explaining to
Michael that the highest was ten, except it would take quite a while for
Abbey to work up to that level, but it controlled the speed, timing, and
pressure settings the device ran at.  The glass tubes moved forward to
press against her nipples and clit, Steve telling Abbey to lean over so the
tubes were pressed over the end of all three places, then squeeze the lever
with her good hand.  As she obediently squeezed, Abbey gave a surprised
Ooo! as her teats slid inside the opening of the upper tubes, and her clit
was pulled further out from its hood, entering the lower tube.  The suction
wasn't very high, just enough to hold them in place.

   Abbey's next task was to place the stump of her amputated arm into a
socket, which locked tightly round the first three inches, then lift a
lever, or press it down, with her stump in the socket.  This was to help
strengthen the muscles in her shoulder and arm, but it also added a pain
element to the procedure, which neither Michael nor Abbey were informed
about.  The resistance on the lever wasn't too high, but she had only three
seconds to make the full distance of travel, at which point a gentle
electric shock was fed to the copper bands inside the glass tubes.  Because
this was her first time, Abbey was too slow lifting the lever, and the
shock to her nipples was like ants crawling over them, and much stronger on
her clit, but it grew more intense as she became sensitised to it.  She was
moaning and twitching as Steve explained what came next.

   There was a hinged steel ring, like nutcrackers, fastened to a wheel,
which Abbey was to put her stump in, then turn a control lever by rotating
the dial with her stump, which would go clockwise only.  She had to move it
a quarter turn to shut down the current flowing through her nipples and
clit, which was a genuine distraction, but the pressure on the lever closed
the ring, its serrated jaws crushing her arm.  The lever was geared at the
back, to make it slow moving, because Dr Goodwin wanted to let the pain in
Abbey's arm, nipples, and clit last for a bit longer than a quick turn
would provide.  When she finally got the lever to click over, the jaws
opened, allowing poor Abbey to remove her stump, but she could do little to
ease the discomfort, since her good hand was secured in the machine.

   That was the end of the first cycle, Steve explained, signified by the
click of the small control wheel, which would now increase the level of
suction and the intensity of the electricity for the next cycle, which must
peak on the fourth cycle before being able to reduce to just above the
previous base level.  Abbey had a one minute rest period just now, with the
suction still on, to maintain the stretch she had achieved so far, and her
Daddy told her he was very proud of how well she'd done.  He was actually
much more than proud, the sight of his little daughter's elongated nipples
had given him a massive erection, which didn't go unnoticed by Steve, who
asked Abbey to lift her good elbow, then told Michael to unzip, and slide
his prick under her biceps.  Michael just smiled at Steve, thanked him,
then obediently placed his throbbing prick as instructed, feeling Abbey
grip his warm flesh against her side as she started the next cycle, the
squeeze on the lever tightening her muscles against his erection.

   While Abbey went through the next two increasingly arduous cycles, her
Daddy had worked himself beneath her arm, each shudder, and tensing of her
body, adding to his excitement.  As he neared his climax, Steve suggested
he put the end of his cock directly into Abbey's armpit, so he didn't spray
all over the machine, getting him to hold back till she reached the end of
the cycle, when the increased electric current in her nipples and clit was
making her tremble quite strongly.  While he pumped a load of thick spunk
into his daughter's warm underarm pocket, the treatment was pushing her to
a peak of her own, as she told the two men she was almost cumming, but as
the machine clicked to end the cycle, Abbey's passion died with it.  While
ever she was undergoing this treatment, she would achieve rising scales of
sexual passion in each cycle, almost to the point of orgasm, but she was
blocked from going over the peak, leaving her with an underlying sexual
tension.  She would stay sensitised for the rest of the day, heightening
her sexual responses till bedtime, but building a firm subconscious desire
to get back to the machine again, no matter how uncomfortable it might be,
or painful, or how humiliating it might be.

   When Michael had finished ejaculating on his daughter, he wiped the last
dribbles of sperm on her hip bone, then scooped up a couple of fingers full
that were streaming down her ribs, and fed them to her mouth, as she
willingly licked off every last drop.  At the end of the fourth cycle, as
Abbey rested, Steve explained that the intensity of this part of the
treatment would ease back a bit now, but the seat would adjust, and a few
seconds later the locating peg extended another two inches into her bottom,
and the footplate lowered.  No longer able to take her weight off the
narrow beam, without standing on her tiptoes, the thin edge now dug
constantly into her cleft, the rear end pressing against her tailbone
agonisingly.  Abbey had thought she was sat on a single beam, but now the
front piece moved upward a little, tilting forward so it slipped into the
very bottom of her girl cleft, easing her petals apart to enter her tiny
front hole.  It wasn't as painful as the back section she was sitting on,
but it tingled unsettlingly, although Abbey had no idea why.  This was a
slight enhancement to the basic programming Dr Goodwin had requested, so
that instead of introducing the youngster to full sexual experience, Steve
was building a subliminal awareness, but with her understanding suppressed.
He'd had some success with this method in the first form of St Margaret's
School for Girls, even suppressing the perception of some of the more
precocious 13 year old girls to quite a satisfactory degree.

   Abbey was seated on the machine in her garage, but some of the other
junk in there was from one of the bedrooms, and had mirrors on it, so she
was sat there in front of a mirror, watching her sexual parts painfully
stretched, and Steve had said it would last for a full hour.  It would be
done in three sessions, so she had twenty minutes to complete each session
before having a two minute rest.  But in order to finish, she must stretch
her nipples far enough down the tube to reach the end where a metal plate
would complete an electrical circuit with a needle that stuck a quarter
inch into the end of the tube.  She would have to stick these needles down
the middle of both nipples, and her clitoris, and then be shocked for
fifteen seconds before it all turned off.  Abbey was taken through two sets
of four cycles before she reached the end of the session, her nipples were
both hot nubs of agony, and her swollen clit wouldn't stop throbbing.  She
tried not to squeeze the handle as hard, so the suction didn't put too much
pressure on her already tender places, but as the time began to run out, a
sudden surge dragged her nipples the last half inch down the glass tubes,
slamming the end of her teat hard onto the sharp needle.

   The young girl had done alright on the first session, getting only a few
extra jolts when she missed the schedule, but she was tiring in the second
session, from the exertion as well as an increased soreness where she had
been quite extensively stretched.  She missed even more in the final
session, taking a longer period of high electricity each time, which
interfered with her co-ordination, and made her overall performance even
worse.  By the end of the hour, poor Abbey was shattered, not just from the
painful treatment, but also from nearly cumming so many times, so that she
was unsteady on her feet when Daddy lifted her off the cruel beam she'd
straddled for so long.  Not only had the thin edge hurt her tailbone, but
the front part of the thin board had curved right inside her little cunny,
till it pressed at the back of her mound, as if it was going to pull it
loose.  She hobbled back to her bedroom, supported by her Daddy and Steve,
who kept rubbing her swollen breast buds, and between her legs, to see if
they were any better yet.  They weren't, and it sent more flashes of hot
pain through her suffering body, but it also left an awesome tingle behind,
that made her all confused.

   When she reached her room, Daddy said it was nap time, and laid her on
the comfy bed spread eagle, and she drifted off to sleep when they both
kissed her, closing her tired eyes as two mouths began to suckle the
massively swollen teats.  She was fully under in seconds, and didn't hear
the two men congratulate each other on a superb development session they
had just put little Abbey through, making arrangements for it to be
scheduled for her three times a week.  The young girl had been through a
very traumatic time, but she was stable at the moment, so they could begin
to make some of the enhancements that had been planned for her, and both
men obviously looked forward to how things would turn out.

   *Accidents

   When Abbey was 8 years old, her Mom was involved in a huge freeway pile
up of 15 vehicles, and was one of the eight people who died later of their
injuries, despite the best efforts of the doctors and hospital staff. 
Abbey was a regular visitor to her Mommy's bedside during those three
months, keeping her up to date on schoolwork, reading her stories, and
fetching any little thing she might need.  All this despite the fact that
Susan was barely conscious from the pain meds, was covered in bandages and
casts, and with her legs in traction at the beginning.  It became more
difficult as complications set in, and they had to amputate Susan's legs,
one above the knee, and the other at the hip joint, removing it completely.

   Abbey was frightened, but her Mommy assured her that what mattered, the
part that was really Mommy, was in her heart, and would always love her
little girl, no matter how many pieces were broken, and dropped off. 
Although she desperately wanted to hug Mommy, Abbey contented herself with
a kiss to Mommy's cheek, knowing that she was hurting, and not wanting to
make it any worse.  For hours, Abbey would sit and stoke her Mommy's
forearm, even when she was asleep, just so that she had contact with her,
and every so often she would lean over to plant a soft kiss there.

   For the last few days, Susan had a discomfort in her tummy, which was
assumed to be the pain meds messing up her digestion, even with the little
she managed to eat, and the medics were constantly trying to balance
analgesic effects against the side effects.  During the afternoon, she
asked Abbey for a hug, lifting her good arm to put round her daughter, and
weakly squeeze her, before asking her to sit at the table and draw a
picture especially for Mummy.  She hugged her husband next, as he saw the
tiredness in her eyes, kissing her softly, and holding her as she gradually
drifted away, her final words, "I love you both", barely audible as a last
breath left her body.

   As the beep of her monitors dropped to a single quiet tone, Michael took
Abbey out to the cafeteria for a soda and a cupcake, as a special treat for
being such a brave little girl, not wanting her to see the rapidly growing
pool of blood on his wife's bed.  The nursing staff had been very discrete
as they passed in the doorway, no rushing about, or shouts of panic, just
quiet efficiency and a nod to Michael in appreciation for taking care of
Abbey.  After half an hour, the doctor came to them as they sat on one of
the comfy sofas, carefully explaining that Susan had slipped away, telling
Abbey that her Mommy wasn't hurting any more, but the doctors weren't able
to make her better.  They went to say their goodbyes, Abbey feeling better
when she saw that all the tubes had gone away, and the nurse had brushed
Mommy's hair across the pillow, so she looked like she was sleeping.

   Abbey's Daddy had promised to take care of her, and he adjusted his work
schedule around her schooling, ensuring he was always there whenever she
wasn't actually in school, he supported all of the parent involvement days,
such as activities in class, concerts, and presentations.  At home they
helped each other come to terms with life as a one parent family, Michael
cuddled his daughter in those moments when she missed her Mommy, and Abbey
would cuddle her Daddy whenever he was sad.

   For her tenth birthday Abbey got a new bike, and rode it every chance
she got, her Daddy riding beside her when she went further than the end of
the block.  Six months after her birthday Abbey rode the bike down her long
driveway, and turned onto the street, just as a delivery truck went
speeding past on the wrong side of the road.  The driver braked and lost
control, spinning the back end into Abbey as she tried to avoid the
approaching vehicle, knocking her under the rear end, and her bike beneath
the rear wheels.  Hearing her scream, Michael ran out to see that she had
almost cleared the underside of the truck, when her long braided hair
caught on the wide back step, dragging her small body along like a helpless
rag doll.  He began chasing her down, desperately trying to reach his
screaming daughter, until the truck hit the kerb and flipped on its side,
spinning round when it hit a parked car, and catching him on the shoulder,
throwing him across the opposite sidewalk.

   Michael rolled and was up in seconds, racing across to the wreck, where
Abbey laid on top of the fallen truck, legs dangling over the now vertical
underside, but held in place by her arm and her hair.  As Michael climbed
up the chassis, he could see that her braid was wedged into the step, and
would easily cut free, but Abbey's arm was trapped under the back fender.
Her wrist had caught in the suspension leaves, with a forearm bone sticking
through her skin, and the elbow joint crushed flat, but there was little
blood loss showing.  At least she seemed to have passed out, so wasn't
aware of the pain from her injuries, and he could see her chest rising with
each tiny breath.  Taking his cell phone out, he looked at the cracked
screen and dialled 911, thankfully getting through and giving the details
of the accident and his location, the dispatcher telling him the paramedics
would be there in fifteen minutes.

   He checked Abbey again, pulse strong and breathing rapid, but eyes still
closed, then looked over the rest of her.  Pieces of bodywork from a second
smashed car were stuck in her legs; one completely through her calf muscle,
and under her red cardigan, a long piece of blood covered chrome trim was
sticking out of her body.  It came through her skirt, just below the
waistband as if she were impaled, making his heart sink as Michael saw a
flashback of his injured wife.  Again, there was not much blood around the
site, so he lifted her skirt to see the damage better, finding it had been
trapped beneath her little bottom, and wouldn't pull clear.  Having been in
the garden earlier, his Grandfather's pocket knife was hung on his belt
loop, and he took the sharp blade to the tiny skirt, slicing easily through
the material from hem to waist.

   He carefully freed the skirt completely, working round the protruding
piece of metal, finding that it had gone into her pantie crotch then stuck
out of the satin flower which embellished the top lace edging.  This piece
of material was cut away too, and down to both pantie legs, allowing the
front panel to fold forward, revealing his daughter's smooth pubic mound,
shaded pink by the thin coating of blood.  The polished chrome came out
through the line that had formed on Abbey's lower tummy just two months
ago, as the onset of puberty laid down a cushion of fat to form a young
lady's mons.  She'd been so proud that her bump was beginning to look like
Mommy used to; one of the things that fascinated her had been Susan's
changing hairstyle, which she would grow and trim on a regular basis. 
Abbey's favourite was when Mommy shaved it all off, and she'd stand next to
her in front of the wardrobe mirror, studying the more mature shape, and
tracing her fingers along her own lines.  Now the poor thing would have a
scar there, but Michael's new worry was the entry point, and possible
damage it may have done to the top of her girl cleft.

   Checking that his daughter still hadn't woken up, but remained stable,
he used the knife to cut across the gusset of the pink material, finding
that the entry wound was in the very top of the groove, above her tiny
clitoris, which appeared undamaged.  There was a small trickle of blood,
but nothing major, and he couldn't see any cuts in the indented slit
itself, so hopefully the girl's undeveloped cunny would be OK.  Studying
the angle of the metal, it looked like it had missed the lower structures,
gone under the fleshy pubis, but over the top of the bone, thereby missing
all the vital organs, such as her bladder and womb, for which he was
grateful.

   He looked down the empty street, wondering where the paramedics had got
to after he'd phoned them so long ago, but when he checked his watch, it
had only been four minutes since he'd made the call, though it seemed like
hours.  There were no neighbours to help him; the Bradley's were both at
work, and the Taylor's were away on vacation for another week yet, all the
other houses were too far down the side streets for him to leave Abbey
while he searched for help.  He did drop down to see if the truck driver
was OK, but he was laid in the foot well of the cab, with the floor stick
shift protruding through his back, and his neck bent over, as if it were
broken.

   Ten minutes till the ambulance arrived seemed like such a long time, but
as he had turned to go back to Abbey, a popping sound drew him to the front
of the truck which had a small fire starting, from a fuel pipe in the
engine bay.  There was already a fuel leak from a ruptured tank, and
gasoline was spread all over the road underneath him as it slowly flowed
towards the front.  Suddenly, Michael's ten minutes might as well have been
ten hours, because they'd both be blown to kingdom come before then.  His
face turned grim as he weighed up his options, none of which he would
willingly choose, but he wasn't going to abandon his daughter, and he'd be
damned if he was going to lose her just because there was no rescue team on
site.  Taking his pocket knife, he cut several woven tassels from the
handlebars of Abbey's bike.

   Hearing her moan, he climbed up to her side, stroking the pale cheek as
her eyes fluttered open, and speaking softly to reassure her that he was
there.  He explained that she was trapped, and the doctors would be here
soon, but he had to move her out of danger first.  He didn't want to go
into any details, because that would only frighten her more.  Hell, he was
an adult and he was already terrified.  Taking some sharp breaths, she
complained that her tummy and legs were hurting, and her arm was really
cold, but she couldn't move it.

   Abbey had always had problems with pain control because she was allergic
to nearly all of the pain meds, even paediatric ones.  Regular analgesics
made her violently sick, which anti emetics had no effect on at all, and
stronger opiates suppressed her heart rate and breathing to dangerous
levels.  The only thing that worked was sense distraction, such as heat and
cold pads, stroking nerve pathways, and light massage around the area, but
only for low levels, like headache or mild tummy upsets.  Eventually they'd
been referred to a child psychologist who taught them to help her with
developing some mental coping strategies, and Abbey had taken to it
extremely well.  Michael knew they were already beyond anything the girl
had confronted before in this area, and it was about to get worse, so he
began to build her defences.

   Abbey's strategy was constructed around a positive attitude, not giving
in to the pain, and triggering her fight or flight response, to flood
endorphins into her system with adrenalin production.  She'd worked through
different scenarios as she grew older; always something she was comfortable
with, and suitable to her age and interests.  Currently she was on King
Arthur's Knights, a British legend, where Lady Guinevere and Sir Lancelot
fought dragons.  After all, she was only 10 years old.

   Running his hand over the shoulder of her trapped arm, he calmly told
his daughter that he needed her to fight the pain dragon, and she had to
summon Lancelot and his shield, repeating his instructions with slowly
increasing urgency.  He soon brought her fully into the story, now calling
her "My Lady", to reinforce her character, having the knight pass her more
and more large shields to construct a wall that would keep this dragon at
bay.  Lancelot would battle the dragon with his sword, and Guinevere would
build a big shield to protect them both, keeping the pain from reaching in.
This was working now, the familiar lines of concentration replacing those
of pain on her young face, and he passed her the "token", a small plastic
figure of Lancelot, to give Abbey another focal point, as he prepared to
free her trapped arm.

   While his daughter had been building her pain barrier, Michael had
subtly tied two of the tassels from her bike round her upper arm, one just
above the crushed elbow, a second one round her biceps muscle, tying them
as tight as he could without taking her attention away.  He desperately
hoped this would stem any blood loss, it was the procedure used in all the
movies for field surgery.  His only experience for the task in hand was
conversations with the doctor who amputated his wife's arm, and watching
through a window as a team of four worked on Susan for two hours.  Good
God, he wasn't a surgeon, he was a toy designer for heaven's sake, and his
pocket knife was pitiful compared to the trays of scalpels, forceps, and
bone saws that they had used.

   Telling Lady Guinevere that the dragon had a foot on her arm, and he
would free it, Michael quickly ran the knife blade completely round her
elbow, working the point into the joint, and cutting through tendons as he
went.  Abbey's weak scream tore through his heart, but he couldn't stop
now, slicing the sharp blade across the final sinew as the stump of his
daughter's arm pulled free, the weight now taken by her braided hair. 
Telling the lady she was nearly free, and she should be ready to run to
safety with Lancelot, he began to build her flight impulse, to escape, to
get away from the dragon.  Just a few moments and she would need all her
strength.  She must run faster than she had ever done.  Her breathing came
faster as adrenaline stepped up again.

   Supporting her weight with his knee pressed into her hip, and one hand
under the pit of the arm he'd just amputated, Michael reached over and
sliced through Abbey's braid, trying desperately not to let her slip down
the spike through her tummy.  Still he kept working on her pain control,
knowing the next stage would be unbearable, but had to be done if they were
to escape from the wreck.  Putting his knife in his pocket, he took his
daughter's weight under both her arms, urgently telling her to protect her
tummy with more shields because they were now going to get away from the
dragon.  Just as he started to lift Abbey, the thing he dreaded most
happened, an explosion under the hood sent out a jet of burning gasoline,
but even worse, it must have torn something loose as well.  Suddenly the
muffler began to fall away from the underside of the fender, the engine
block end no longer supported as it twisted away, but on its way down, it
hit the mangled chrome trim wrapped around the axel.  Abbey let out an ear
piercing scream, and Michael watched in slow motion as the sharp steel
sliced down and outward, a small jet of blood spraying as her pubic mound
split completely in two, the bone visible underneath the gash.

   This was no time to study the damage though, or the anguish they both
felt, the fuel on the roadway had ignited, and was spreading towards the
rear gasoline tank next to Michael's leg, so he clutched Abbey to his chest
and leapt to the ground, bending his knees to cushion the shock she would
feel.  Without a backward glance, he set off for the opposite sidewalk, not
wanting to know how fast the flames were racing to his imminent
destruction. It wouldn't have made any difference, since every ounce of
strength he now possessed was pounding his legs down, to put as much
distance as possible between the flaming wreck and his suffering daughter.
He never heard the explosion, but the shock wave was still strong enough to
knock him to his knees on the grass, the heat still intense enough to singe
the back of his hair, and ignite the shoulder of his shirt.  Regardless of
the pain, he remained crouched over, gathering Abbey in closer to his chest
so she was shielded till he knew the blast had dissipated enough to lay her
down, and roll over to extinguish his burning shirt.  Fortunately, the
sweat soaking his hair and back had prevented any extensive fire damage,
merely drying out under the heated onslaught.

   Rolling back to his daughter, Michael checked her injuries, the stump of
her arm was dripping slightly, but not much, the wound in her calf was just
a trickle as well, but her little bare mound looked horrendous, with blood
running along the line of her lower tummy, and streaming down her girl
cleft.  Abbey was laid with her knees apart, and her whole vulva on
display, since her skirt and panties had been abandoned on the blazing
wreck, and there was only her cardigan and top left.  Michael didn't want
to use those to cover her lower body, since it would mean having to move
her too much to get them off, and modesty was on a much lower priority, but
he did want a piece of cloth to put pressure on her wound.  Reaching up, he
tore the burned sleeve from his shoulder, wincing at the pain as it came
away from the damaged skin, then folded it into a pad, trying to work out
how best to staunch the bleeding.  All he could do was use his fingers to
squeeze the raw edges of the gash together, press the pad onto it, and
carefully slip his hand out from underneath.  The blood running down her
tiny cleft seemed to slow, and the pool on her tummy as well, though he
wasn't sure, but he didn't want to relieve the pressure to get a better
look.

   Abbey moaned as she began to come round again after the trauma of their
escape, calling for her Daddy to help her because she hurt all over, and
she wasn't strong enough to fight it any more, she just wanted to sleep. 
Fearing that the shock and loss of blood would put her in a coma, Michael
wanted to keep her awake until the paramedics arrived, so he asked her to
clean up in the warm pool, then she could sleep, setting a scenario that
took less mental effort than the earlier one.  This was a hot spring in the
middle of a quiet forest, surrounded by all the animals Abbey loved,
rabbits, squirrels, young deer, and dozens of quiet song birds.  She could
lay back and sink her body into the warm water, relaxing as the distraction
took the edge off her pain, staying just this side of sleep, as Daddy
stroked her cheeks, and forehead so soothingly.

   After a few minutes, the sound of sirens began to grow louder, then an
ambulance and a fire truck pulled round the corner, and Michael raised his
arm to wave them over to him.  The fire fighters set up and sprayed the
blazing wreck with suppressant foam, pumping through the rear windows,
where all the delivery cargo was a huge inferno.  The paramedics rushed
over to Michael and Abbey, but he refused to step away till he made sure
they were aware of all Abbey's injuries, particularly the wound on her
pubis, and her allergies to most pain control meds.  It was a difficult
time for the poor girl, but they gave her a couple of shots of mild
sedative, then marvelled at Michael helping her to create a cotton cloud
that dampened most of her sensations.  All except a series of soft touches
where her Daddy's finger trailed down one arm, then the other, along her
legs, over her forehead, the back of her ears, circling her body to flood
Abbey's nervous system with low intensity sensations.

   The medics worked quickly and gently now that Abbey was fairly stable,
spraying coagulant on the pubic wound, then a broad adhesive dressing, and
her stump got a layer of Dermabond.  Her other arm and both legs had
breaks, so all three were put in air-splints, neck and c-spine seemed OK,
and the rest were non-serious abrasions from the road, and bruises that
would come out in a couple of days.  They got Abbey on a stretcher and into
the ambulance, putting a fluid line in, then looked Michael over as they
drove to the hospital, but he only had a small burn to his shoulder, and
minor cuts caused by flying debris from the explosion.  He stayed by
Abbey's side right into the emergency room, countering all objections with
his daughter's need to manage her pain in the absence of meds.  When they'd
finished their assessment, and had a plan made up, they needed her
anaesthetised, so Michael stepped up to his daughter, whispered that it was
time to sleep now and Daddy would wake her up later, then gave her a
trigger phrase that put her into a deep sleep.  This was the most powerful
technique he knew, involving a deep hypnotic trance, and he'd only used it
once before, for some dental work, but he was basically terrified that
Abbey would not be able to wake up.  Yet there was nothing else he could
do, except trust in what the mental experts had told him, and the intense
link between himself and his daughter.

   Knowing her problems with regular pain meds, the doctors had tested
Abbey when she was very young, for anaesthetics, as well as analgesics,
finding blood pressure and heart rate were very poorly managed, and amnesia
was almost totally absent in the spectrum of drugs tested.  General
anesthetics have been widely used in surgery since 1842, the first time
ether was administered to a patient and the doctor could perform a painless
operation.  It has always been believed that general anesthetics exert
their effects (analgesia, amnesia, immobility) by modulating the activity
of the membrane proteins in the neuronal membrane of the brain.  However,
the particular location and mechanism of this action are still largely
unknown, although extensive research has been done in this area.  Even very
small doses of anaesthetics would suppress Abbey's heartbeat to dangerous
levels, which required stimulants to bring it back up, then her blood
pressure would soar as her body attempted to exert its own controls over
autonomic systems.  In all the amnesiac tests, Abbey was able to recall
every touch, pinch, and pinprick with surprising accuracy, and a very
rational annoyance with the medics who pushed needles into her just because
she didn't flinch or cry when they did it.  While still maintaining her
usual pleasantness, she had nonetheless given them a severe telling off for
being mean to her.

   The hypnotic triggers were a godsend for Michael and Susan, enabling
them to help their daughter cope with serious pain at several levels, and
the therapist had given them every help they needed, to learn and
understand what they were achieving with these techniques.

   The doctors did all their usual consciousness and response tests, and
Michael had assured them that as from now, Abbey was quietly, deep asleep,
aware of nothing other than a pleasant set of her favourite dreams every
few hours.  As long as they fed her intravenously she would wake up only
when her Daddy's voice summoned her, after the doctors had fixed whatever
they could.

   *For Better or Worse

   Overall, it had been a reasonably successful care regimen, Abbey
recovering from most of the trauma associated with a young child losing an
arm, and tolerating many of the medical impositions that had become part of
her on-going care.  She visited the amputee support centre at the hospital
every couple of weeks to check progress with handling everyday tasks, and
get any help or advice she needed.  Several of the other patients were
friends with each other, and Abbey had a couple of girl friends that all
visited each other's houses, sometimes for sleepovers.  She had a couple of
teenage peer visitors assigned to her by the centre, as well as a woman her
Mom's age, and an older man with both legs amputated.  The aim of the peer
group was to provide Abbey with someone to talk to who had been through the
same situation as she now found herself in, and for them to all help each
other come to terms with the change in lifestyles.

   Abbey's peers had been specially selected by Dr Goodwin to focus on the
additional sexual aspects that came with devotees of people with missing
limbs, so all of them were very precocious for their age, and older ones
were there to bring on those less experienced.  The younger girls were
twelve, thirteen, and fifteen, with Abbey the youngest at eleven, though in
some ways she was more liberated than some of her peers, but the sixteen
year old was definitely in charge.  They would all have their stumps
exposed when they were together, not even fancy socks were allowed, which
they all usually wore because they were pretty.  Everyone was encouraged to
inspect each other's injuries in great detail, and one of their favourite
tricks was to see how far they could manipulate the reduced limbs, to
increase flexibility, the flyer said.  It was much more fun though, to see
how far they could spread a girl's legs apart, or get her arm up between
her shoulders, and somehow, they ended up with less and less clothing. 
Those with prosthetics would demonstrate novel uses for hooks and clamps
that weren't in the information packs, and were never covered by the
Physio, while the crutches and peg legs could be worked inside a young
girl's holes with very satisfying results.

   Mostly they were left alone by the host parents, unless the kids asked
for food and drinks, and they were quite discrete when they did enter a
room, so they got away with a lot more than most children would.  Barbara's
Mom was the exception, and she was always finding excuses to come in to the
room without any warning, usually in the middle of some inappropriate
activity, and would be shocked that such lovely girls would behave that
way. Barbara was spanked for being naughty, and always had been, so her Mom
saw no need to change things just because her daughter had lost half of her
leg.  Since Barbara was always spanked on the bare, she would have to strip
completely in front of everyone else, though often there wasn't much left
to remove, and the group had stopped asking why it had to be all her
clothes, since they all now knew the drill.  Barbara's Mom never limited
herself just to her bottom, and would choose whatever part of her
daughter's body she fancied, to punish that day, often more than one place
if she was in that sort of mood.

   Barbara didn't get all the blame though; her Mom knew that young girls
always egg on their friends to do things, so she quite happily stripped and
spanked them all, sometimes one at a time, sometimes with them laid side by
side, going from one to the other.  There was never any set amount to the
spanking, Barbara's Mom didn't bother trying to work out how naughty they'd
been, she just kept going till she was satisfied they had been properly
dealt with.  There was never any threat to tell their parents, a spanking
having been administered ended the matter, and her Mom was never cruel, in
fact afterwards she would bring out a large pot of cream, and rub it into
all the sore red spots she could find.  She even got the girls to help out,
using the cream on each other, with plenty of suggestions of where a place
might have been missed, particularly in crevices, and those tender inner
areas that girls like so much.  By the time Barbara's Mom had finished with
them, there had been more improper activity than there was before, not that
any of them ever complained.

   After eighteen months Abbey was getting along as if she was born with
her disability, using her prosthetic arm with consummate skill, changing
out the claw, hook, and hand like most people use cutlery, and finding some
very novel uses she'd never dreamed of.  Her favourite was playing pirates
when she had the hook on, especially if a couple of the other girls had
theirs on as well, calling themselves the Captain Hook Team, often ending
up in fits of giggles.  The other thing that the hook was good for was
stretching out her shoulder, which often ached quite severely with what the
doctors called phantom pain, but Abbey would slip the hook over a bracket
on the back of her closet door, then hang suspended from it.  Twenty
minutes like that, and her shoulder was a good as new.

   Her shoulder wasn't the only niggling ache she had, most of the other
big breaks still played up once in a while, but they weren't enough to use
pain suppression, and when she saw Dr Goodwin he always examined her,
poking and prodding, then he'd use the ultrasound on her, which tickled. 
The Physio would give her a workout, with her elbows always giving her a
dead leg, and her fingers somehow finding every little ticklish spot she
had.  That was even more torture than the elbow had been.  Shots in her
legs always finished these visits, but the needle was small, and the
vitamin mix would help the leg cramps, even if there were half a dozen,
right down each leg.

   What Abbey didn't know, was that Dr Goodwin was giving her one of his
trial drugs, injected into the neuromuscular junctions, a specific
combination of T-cell receptor antigenic peptides, designed to induce
Myasthenia, an increasing muscle weakness.  He'd started the treatment as
another one of his projects, developed in conjunction with a psychiatric
study on immobilizing patients, and the drug would lay dormant till
triggered by the female hormones released as part of the menstrual cycle.
Several days after the end of her period, her legs would become wobbly,
till after the end of three weeks, she could hardly stand at all.  Abbey
had begun having periods about four months ago, part of her blossoming
puberty, and was ecstatic at this sign of her womanhood.  She had no idea
that while she felt so much better for being a woman, it would make her
life so much worse when Dr Goodwin abbreviated her body further than the
girl had ever imagined.

   A few weeks after Abbey's thirteenth birthday, another aspect was added
in to the treatment, a slow release kinase inhibitor, delivered via an air
purifier device in her bedroom, which might counteract her muscle pains. 
When Dr Goodwin gave Abbey the device, it was mounted in a Hello Kitty
model, and she loved it straight away, as it was very girly, giving it
pride of place on her bedside table, right next to her Mom's photo.  The
active chemical in the diffuser was a Gardenia fragrance, which had only
recently become one of Abbey's favourites, following one of her therapy
sessions in the MD's office, where Steve Waters had carefully introduced
the perfume as a new trigger in her subconscious.  The main purpose of
Hello Kitty was to trigger a built in wireless transmitter, when it sensed
she fell asleep, which would activate a set of micro resonator units
embedded in her legs.

   Dr Goodwin had fitted these units into the micro fractures in both legs
when he had been setting the major breaks following Abbey's accident, each
unit having two small fins that slipped inside cracks along the surface of
the bone.  The resonators were so small, only two millimetres long, that
they could be implanted using microsurgery in a very short time, with
minimal evidence of entry, and in Abbey's case hid successfully amongst her
other abrasions.  A small injection of Semaphorin 4D into the fissure is
enough to inhibit the bone formation that would normally seal up these
stress lines, keeping them open and separate for a number of years.

   Whenever Abbey visited Dr Goodwin's office, he had a transmitter that
would set the resonators trembling for the hour that she was there, but
this was only once a month now, and he wanted to accelerate Abbey's next
stage of development.  The Kitty unit would increase this activity to eight
hours each night while Abbey was asleep, with another hour during her
afternoon nap, which she still took whenever she wasn't in school, and also
a lower level while she was in her room awake.  After two months, the micro
cracks were measurably bigger, particularly in length, and a subconscious
trigger from the Gardenia fragrance had taken most of the edge off the pain
initiated by the implants.

   When Steve had set up the pain control for Dr Goodwin's implants, he'd
also tied the fragrance to an increased sensitivity in her clitoris just
when she entered light sleep mode, and her conscious mind released control.
A second level trigger kept Abbey's clit tingling at very low levels until
her period started when the insertion of a tampon pushed the sensations
much higher, adding a need to inflict mild pain on the erect, throbbing
shaft of her clit.  Still half asleep, Abbey would take one of her hair
slides that had spikes on it, and close the sprung jaws round the base,
whimpering as the points dug into her flesh.  As she stroked the tip of her
clitoris, building up towards a climax, a feedback loop kept her near the
edge, but needing just a touch more pain to push her over.  She would pull
or twist the clip, making it hurt more, and when the effects almost had her
there, the edge would fade slightly, making her rub a little harder, and
twist the clip more vigorously, till her love button was a blaze of agony,
and then it would drift away to nothing.  Trembling with unsatisfied
passion, the girl would put away her clip, and gently drift off into a full
sleep.

   The second night of her period, Abbey's clit would be sore, so as she
fell asleep, she would take two longer hair clips, and clamp them along
each of her fat outer labia, and torment those as she hovered on the edge
of another failed orgasm.  The following night would need three clips, on
her more delicate inner lips, and again on her stiffly swollen clit, the
increased pain causing a higher level of sexual response, but still without
release.  The fourth night would be inner and outer petals, while the fifth
night had Abbey attaching spiked hair grips to all her labia, and her
clitoris, with a final plastic shaft pushed into her pee hole.  This shaft
had a small sphere just up from the tip, which slipped inside, gently
stretching the entrance that Abbey had put a dab of hand lotion on.  There
were six spheres along the shaft, all slightly larger in diameter than the
one before, and requiring more pressure to force them inside, the ones
already in having to stretch her urethra further down.  The last two were
agony to get inserted, but Abbey knew that if she succeeded in getting this
shaft all the way in she would have the most mind blowing cum, which would
make it all worthwhile.

   Steve had made sure that all the girl's distress would be rewarded, and
she enjoyed the promised orgasm every time she fully stretched her pee
hole, no matter how the pain seemed unbearable going in, and even more when
she pulled it out afterwards.  His view was that if Dr Goodwin was going to
destroy the girl's body, he'd make sure she enjoyed it on the way.

   It took just over a year for the resonators to split the bones in
Abbey's legs in the way Dr Goodwin was looking for, despite all his
attempts to halt the deterioration with his placebo treatments and
therapies, and playing down the extent of the injury.  Finally, he brought
Michael and Abbey into his office, to give them the results from the latest
set of tests and investigations that had been run.  He told them both that
Abbey's legs were not healing as they'd hoped, following the damage
sustained in the accident, with the minor cracks in her bones enlarging to
the extent that the bone was now in danger of collapse.  This was true to a
certain degree, apart from the fact that Dr Goodwin had intended this to
happen all along, even considering the idea of allowing Abbey's legs to
shatter beneath her, but stopping short of this act due to the unknown
level of damage it would cause.

   The other problem the doctor pointed out to his patient was that her
muscles were now tearing away from the nerve junctions in her legs,
resulting in the weakness that was becoming very acute, leaving her unable
to stand, or move about.  This was due to nerve damage, he explained, from
being dragged behind the truck, and like her bones, it had not healed
properly.  Again, no mention was made of the injections into her leg being
the cause of the nerve malfunction, or that the antigenic peptides had been
discontinued several months ago.  All indications being that the
neuromuscular junctions had been permanently destroyed in ninety percent of
their function, with the remaining operation only able to move the girl's
legs with difficulty; the trial had proved a success.  Not for Abbey, it
was true, but Dr Goodwin now had a lucrative market for the unobtrusive
immobilization of individuals to suit the agendas of those in charge of
them, such as step parents, guardians, and a certain mental hospital.

   Michael, and his daughter Abbey, took this devastating news remarkably
well thanks to a few days preparation under the guidance of Steve Waters,
their natural concern being tempered by Michael's previous amputation
fantasies, and Abbey's reinforced attraction to her Mom's injuries.  They
were assured that ample assistance would be available to them, and promised
that there would be unexpected pleasures to enjoy along their journey. 
Neither of them questioned any details of the doctor's plans, just quietly
followed their programming, and signed the consent forms that were offered.

   The following weekend, Abbey was taken into the hospital, and under her
mental controls spent several hours being stimulated to numerous orgasms,
by streams of men and women, both staff and selected high paying
individuals.  The young girl was fondled and fingered, her extended nipples
and clitoris drawing lots of attention, and of course she was fucked in all
three holes, each of which had been trained since coming under Dr Goodwin's
care.  Abbey's nurse had taught her the fine art of licking pussy while
under her care, and Steve would regularly pair the girl with the family's
housekeeper, under his guidance, and with the eager participation of her
Daddy, so the women in the group were ably attended to as well.  Part of
the attraction of being able to get between this girl's legs was that there
would be a second event in a few days' time, when she would have much
shorter legs to spread like they were now.  Even Abbey's Daddy was
involved, finding his increasing desire for his daughter's injured body
could be satisfied by guiding other men's hard cocks into her straining
holes, and putting her into positions to accommodate their sexual desires.

   For Abbey, this was all rationalized by it being remembered as a dream,
stemming from her own fantasy desires, many of which she'd had already, but
they'd been put in a much more involved setting during her therapy sessions
with Steve.  When her guests finally departed, Abbey had been left tied to
a gurney, arms behind her, and her legs painfully wide apart, spunk and
girl juice dribbling from her pussy and ass, the rest of her body covered
in it.  Still naked, and without covers, she was taken to theatre, where Dr
Goodwin explained in great detail how he was going to cut off both of her
legs in pieces, one section at a time.  Steve Waters was in there with
them, a new challenge to his skills firing his enthusiasm.

   Most of his hypnotherapy work was quite easy, working with the basis
that you could not force people do anything that conflicted with their core
beliefs, without initiating a destructive internal conflict.  This was
usually handled by investigating their motives and background to find a
complimentary desire that would match what he wanted them to do, and
working to modify the earlier establishment of resistance to it.  In most
cases, revisiting the stage where they made a decision, reducing there
inbuilt inhibitions, then adding persuasive suggestions, would help them
realize that they'd been mistaken all their lives, and deep down, they
really wanted to follow what Steve told them to do.  Abbey now presented
him with an opportunity to manipulate a basic survival instinct, and to
have her participate fully in the removal of body parts without the mental
trauma normally associated with these procedures.

   She already had a trigger that would render her unconscious, established
quite early in her life to combat allergic reactions to pain meds, but it
was just an on/off switch, under her Father's control.  It had been
effective enough to enable Abbey's arm to be properly amputated following
her traffic accident, and her Daddy, Michael, had kept her under till most
of her injuries had been stabilised.  During that time Steve set up a more
complex series of subconscious triggers, controls, and response sequences,
and had spent a lot of time delving into Abbey's basic drives and
experiences.  She'd taken readily to Steve's suggestions, and was
extraordinarily easy to put in a trance, which he'd discovered was due to a
personality trait of always wanting to help when she could, and this made
her very suggestible.  Knowing Dr Goodwin's plans for the surgery he was
about to put Abbey through, Steve had been preparing the young girl for
months to be able to withstand extensive pain, and detach her rational mind
from it.  Seated at Abbey's core was a huge amount of courage, and a
considerable belief in her own abilities.

   While under deeper and deeper trances, Steve had guided Abbey through
resisting mounting levels of pain, helping her recognise the sensations,
then her body's basic response to the nerve signals, and finally a
controlled reduction in the sensitivity of the nerve centres.  When she was
self-controlling, Abbey could block any amount of pain by mentally turning
down a volume knob, and she'd been trained to always let just a small
amount through.  This was so she'd always be aware of the danger that pain
was meant to warn against, but she could postpone any action to a suitable
time to deal with it.  If she was triggered to relinquish pain control,
then an outsider would be able to set the level of pain that came through
her blocks, and also her response to it.  Steve had her undergo practice
sessions while her breasts and quim where subjected to increasing pain,
either needles being inserted, being crushed with pliers and clamps, or
electrodes delivering higher and higher voltages.  He'd started with low
levels of pain, which he'd paired with full responses, then slowly taught
Abbey to bring them under her own control.  Just a few weeks ago, Steve had
crushed her clitoris till it almost burst, and shoved a dozen needles into
her titties and right down her nipples at the same time, while the girl
calmly described what her body was being subjected to.

   Today was to be the practical test, and he was there to support Abbey,
and give her any help she might need in coping, though he had every
confidence that she would come through with flying colours.  At Steve's
request Abbey had electrodes fitted to her nipples and clitoris, to be used
as a reward or distraction, but they were turned off to start with.  Abbey
began with triggering herself to suppress automatic response such as
pulling away from unexpected pain; something that Steve had left in place
as a valid self-protection aid, but built a trigger that Abbey could use
herself in some medical situations such as this one.  She could feel the IV
line being inserted, from a mental distance, then watched as a small square
of skin was removed from her calf, the pain level no more than having a
Band-Aid removed, which was one of the tests Steve had asked the doctor to
provide.  The next test was where Abbey couldn't see what was being done to
her, taking only a fraction of a second to blank out the pain of a deep
incision into the base of her heel, taking it to the same feeling as
before. Satisfied with Abbey's progress so far, Steve gave the OK to
continue, praising the young girl for her courage.

   Abbey had been positioned with her head raised, so that she could see
what was happening, and her face was in shot for the video cameras
recording the operation for training purposes.  Dr Goodwin was intending to
present a paper on alternative anaesthesia in surgical amputation, but
Steve also knew he had a lucrative side line in niche videos for amp
devotees.  Abbey watched the nurse secure a tourniquet very tightly below
her left knee, and above her right knee, which were the intended limits of
today's surgery, although Dr Goodwin had told her that if the bone damage
was more extensive than they thought, he might go higher.  With the blood
loss effectively controlled, the doctor held Abbey's foot so she could
watch the scalpel run round the base of her little toe, cutting through
skin, muscles, and tendons, right down to the joint with her foot.  The
nurse mopped the trickle of blood; Abbey confirmed that she felt a
toothache type sensation that was bearable, and Dr Goodwin gave a twist
that pulled her little toe off completely.

   So far this was a complete success, and Abbey was coping remarkably
well, having needed just a little encouragement from Steve when the scalpel
had scraped on her bone, making her frightened, but he'd reassured her,
taking her mind on a tour that proved she was in control.  The doctor asked
Abbey to choose for herself which toe was next to be removed, and as the
operation followed her direction, Steve got the girl to lower her blocks at
each stage, increasing the pain she was feeling, to test her limits.  When
Abbey began to lose her confidence, Steve turned on the power to the
electrodes on her nipples, switching it from there to her clit, and back,
at intervals, mixing the pleasure with the pain, in her mind, till she
settled down, but with a higher sexual edge.

   With all the toes now removed from her right foot, Abbey reverted to the
programing that Steve had given her, merely following Dr Goodwin's
amputation plan, as he held her foot, showing the girl how he cut through
the surface layers of her ankle, folding it upward along her lower calf. 
The pain of the incision was now stimulating Abbey sexually, without the
help of the electrodes, and she was beginning to lubricate as the doctor
pulled out her tendons, and severed them one by one till her foot went
limp. A little bit of work on the joint, and the foot was removed, being
placed on her tummy, where she could see exactly how it had been taken to
pieces, its weight pressing into her soft flesh.

   After changing his instrument tray, Dr Goodwin ran a scalpel from
Abbey's ankle to her knee, then left and right, folding back the two halves
of her lower leg to expose the bones.  Several incisions later, the
complete calf muscles had been separated, slit round the back of her knee,
and pulled away like a slab of meat at the butcher's.  The Tibia and Fibula
were separated from the knee joint, placed on a side table, and then the
knee cap was removed, to leave Abbey with just her thigh bone, which the
doctor explained was going to be fitted with an anchor point for her
prosthesis.

   The surrounding muscles at the bottom of her thigh were pulled back,
exposing the Femur, a rotary bone saw removed nine inches from its length,
followed by a strong titanium socket and collar being fitted onto the end
of the bone.  A couple of cross pins held it in position, then Dr Goodwin
folded her muscles back in place, shortened the tendons to fasten them on
the reduced Femur, and trimmed back the flaps of skin to create a neat join
where her knee had been.  A layer of Dermoplast would bond the skin to the
titanium collar, where it protruded an inch or so out of the wound, and the
socket was sealed with a rounded end stainless steel screwed post.

   Abbey was handling the pain very well with her blocks, and had been
experimenting with varying the levels she allowed to get through, while the
doctor was working on fixing her leg, and she was beginning to find it
easier to transfer the pain to her more pleasurable areas.  Steve Waters
was helping her with an occasional boost to the electrodes clamped to her
nipples, and a stronger jolt to her clit now and then, and had pushed her
to three cums so far.  She was tiring now, so Steve put her to sleep while
Dr Goodwin finished his sewing, then the team took a ten minute break as
well to tidy up and replenish the equipment, ready to amputate Abbey's left
leg.

   Steve brought Abbey round prepared to assume pain control, and she had
it in a tiny fraction of a second, with the merest grimace showing on her
face before she gave a nod that she was OK.  Steve tousled her hair, then
gradually turned up the power into her electrodes in pulses, watching her
twitch and thrust for a moment, then backing off a little.  Dr Goodwin
positioned her foot so Abbey could see what he was doing, explaining that
for her left foot, they were going to remove the five long bones, the
metatarsals, with the toes attached, leaving the heel in place. 
Strengthening all her blocks, Abbey watched the scalpel slice round the
front of her ankle, then right down the top, baring all the tendons as the
skin was peeled back.  The doctor used a set of snips to sever each tendon,
till her foot fell forward, and then back to the scalpel to cut through the
first joint in each metatarsal, lifting them forward to expose the inner
side of the sole of her foot.  Changing to a longer bladed scalpel, he cut
through the thick sole, separating her forefoot, and pulling it free to
leave the stump of her heel.  With the pain almost totally repressed, Abbey
was fascinated to see the remnant of her left foot placed into a dish and
discarded.

   Abbey would've liked to have a heel stump, it would look so cool, but
she knew that Dr Goodwin wanted to amputate more of her left leg, and deep
down, Abbey did too, because then her stumps would look exactly like her
Mom had done after her crash.  She liked the way Mom looked laid in the
hospital bed last time she'd seen her, with the covers pulled back to show
Abbey the pretty socks she was wearing, pink ribbon threaded through the
lace cuffs, specially bought by Abbey with her allowance, from the hospital
gift shop.  To the young girl the cuffs signified that Mom was still
pretty, as she'd always been, and her stumps looked cute when she wiggled
them, just as Abbey's arm looked cute now, and her own leg stumps would
also be pretty in a few days, with their new socks on.

   She smiled as the doctor cut all around her upper calf, about three
quarters up from her ankle, the buzz starting in her clamped nipples as
Steve zapped a bit of power into the already tender nubbins, and her mind
shifted the sensations from her leg to her little breasts.  The lower
muscles were cut free, leaving the knee muscles behind for movement in her
stump, and when the first set were folded back, Dr Goodwin set to with his
bone saw again.  The electricity in her clit electrode began to pulse as
the blade approached, pushing the youngster into a climax as it bit into
her tibia, and it kept her cumming until the saw cut right through to the
other side.  She now watched through a haze of sexual euphoria as a nurse
held the remains of her leg, and then put it on a side table as the team
fitted the titanium collar around the severed end of her bone.

   As Dr Goodwin and his nurses sewed up the remaining flesh on Abbey's
leg, formed into a neat, cushioned curve around the shiny steel end
protruding from it, the young girl gradually drifted off to sleep, enjoying
the gentle pulses of electricity that Steve was putting through her
electrodes.  Hovering just below the edge of orgasm, her two fresh stumps
giving the girl only a mild ache, she listened to the calming voice of the
man who helped in so many areas of her life, keeping her happy and safe. 
It would be three weeks before Abbey woke fully again, drifting back up to
the borders of half consciousness every other day so that her nurse could
clean her bottom with a huge enema.  While she held the fluid that bloated
her tummy, Abbey would have her clit and nipples stimulated through
successive orgasms for thirty minutes, as part of her physiotherapy
exertion routine.  Sometimes the nurse would sit astride her face and have
the barely aware child lick her pussy till her chin was slick with female
juices, thinking how lucky she was to land a job like this, and have the
help that Steve had given her.  It was a small reward that she could offer
to Steve Waters, allowing him the freedom to fuck her dripping pussy
whenever he wanted, while she licked and nibbled Abbey's beautifully
stretched nipples, watching the girl arch her back.

   When the time finally came round for Abbey to be fully woken, Steve
brought her all the way through her acceptance routine, rather than the
short sessions she'd gotten used to during her recovery.  The earlier
phases had reinforced the fascination she felt for her Mom's amputations,
focusing those feelings on her own surgery, until the stumps of her legs
were totally acceptable to the girl.  As she came out of her closing sleep
phase, Abbey was thrilled at the prospect of being able to study her new
look for as long as she wanted, rather than the brief glimpses she'd been
allowed so far.  Those two shiny steel sockets were going to be fitted with
all sorts of lovable, handy gadgets, artificial legs, short feet
attachments, and peg legs just like a pirate.  How cool would that be, she
thought, as her awareness returned fully, and she could see the socks on
her stumps, trimmed with pretty lace cuffs that were threaded with thin
pale blue ribbon.

   The extended sleep had taken away some of her mobility, but the nurse
and doctor helped to move her limbs into her visual range, pressing her
thighs painfully upward, so that she could see the socket implants in
closer detail.  Abbey had to perform the basic flexibility exercises
directed by her physio for thirty minutes, then another half hour of
strengthening routines, to regain her fitness.  When she was warmed up, the
nurse brought over a prosthetic for her left leg, fitting the stump below
her knee into the socket, then Dr Goodwin showed her how the harness
strapped round her thigh.  The rounded steel plug in her implant had been
replaced with a click lock unit that snapped into her artificial leg
socket, securing it solidly to her leg, and then Abbey was stood upright on
one leg, and allowed to practice her balance for a while.  She felt quite
unsteady, but the doctor assured her that she would soon be accustomed to
it, and offered her the other artificial limb to even her up.

   The right prosthetic had a much bigger cup that covered Abbey's thigh
right up to the top, with a lip on the inside that curled over to her
pussy, rubbing against her outer petal.  This leg also locked onto her
stump attachment, but the socket round her leg was a bit looser than her
left leg.  The nurse brought over a leather belt, which she said was part
of the harness, but since it couldn't fit round her thigh, she fastened it
around the girl's waist, tightening it up till it drew her waist in several
inches.  Next, a curved metal bar was clipped to the top of edge of the
leg's socket, following the line of her girl cleft, from its upper edge in
front, right round to just below her tailbone.  Bringing over a tray, the
nurse showed Abbey half a dozen different anchor straps to join the bottom
bar to the waist band, selecting one that had short spikes sticking out of
it, and a second one made of rough twine.  The rear one was mounted on a
blunt hook, the end of which went through the last hole on the curved bar,
the rounded end entering the girl's anal ring, and the other end buckling
onto a loop in the belt.  The rope strap was threaded down through the
wound in Abbey's pubis, going right behind her mound, coming out above her
clitoris, and clipping to a hook similar to the one stuck up her bottom. 
This front hook, however, was pressed just below her erect clitoral shaft,
where a pull on the rope would slide the hard steel over the clit, as it
did when the rope was secured to the waist belt at the front.

   The nurse held one arm, the doctor the other, and they supported Abbey
as she took a few steps on her new legs, wobbly at first, but she was not
allowed to fall and hurt herself.  It wasn't completely painless though, as
the weight transference along her leg bones proved quite uncomfortable, but
not beyond the girl's tolerance, nor was the rough rope sliding under her
pubic mound, or the spikes digging in the rear of her butt crack.  They
walked Abbey to the other side of her bedroom, facing a full length mirror
so that she could see her artificial legs taking each step, the soft pink
plastic providing a good colour match to her own skin, but offset by brown
leather straps.  She stood for a moment to take in the overall image, where
her left thigh squeezed between the bands, the belt round her waist digging
deeply into her side and tummy, while the vertical strap in front pressed a
groove across her navel.

   The nurse turned Abbey round, and they walked her slowly back to her
bed, with the distraction of the mirror now gone, the girl could feel the
slight spring in her right leg, where the stump sank down a little. 
Because the leg socket was secured in place by the curved bar wedged into
her girl cleft, the movement pressed the bar hard against her pussy, or
rather she settled her own weight onto it, crushing her delicate flesh. 
Not only did the bar crush her groove, where it had worked in between her
petals, but there were several large holes along its length which forced
the various sections of her vulva to squeeze through them.  One was round
her anal ring, and with the rear hook through it as well, the flesh was
squeezed really tight into the hole.  Another hole was over the entrance to
her cunny, which felt weird when it was thrust out, though not as strange
as her pee hole did, because that was just below her clit, and the front
strap attachment kept pulling her groove upward.

   Every step caused a different series of reactions, all of them
uncomfortable, but lots of them sexually stimulating, and even the anchor
straps to her waist belt added to the pain she felt.  The rear one stabbed
her with its spikes when it tightened up, then scraped her ass crack when
it pulled between her cheeks, while the rope strand slid beneath her pubis
at the front, tickling at first, but soon becoming maddeningly sore with
each step.  Abbey was surprised when she tried to block the pain in these
areas and it made no difference, slowly building to agonising levels, yet
still making it pulse with excitement that pushed her to the edge of
climax. The pain in her leg itself was controllable, but she could no
longer block that out completely as she'd been able to do since her
accident, and she began to worry that she'd lost all that Steve had been
teaching these past months.

   When Abbey looked over at Steve Waters, fear alive in her eyes, he was
smiling at her, and when he quietly said to calm down a little, she felt
the edge of her fear melt away, but only the edge, the mounting central
terror still gnawed away at her insides.  While the nurse removed Abbey's
prosthetics, Steve explained that Dr Goodwin had decided that a totally
pain free environment was not good for her best development, nor did it
help her build an appreciation for what other amputees had to suffer.  With
that in mind, Steve had been instructed to reduce the effectiveness of her
pain block ability to that of a regular amputee, with reference to her
residual limbs, and for all of the other areas, to remove it completely. 
While he was out of the field of vision of the doctor and nurse, he winked
conspiratorially at Abbey, and mouthed "Not quite, tell you later."

   Dr Goodwin promised Abbey that she could try on all the other artificial
limbs later, as she grew accustomed to each new device, but for now, there
was a very special set he wanted to use.  Taking a large stainless steel
ring, the doctor pushed it onto the click lock fitting on Abbey's left leg,
then fitted a similar large ring to her right leg.  Lifting them up, he
showed the young girl that, unlike her normal prosthetics, these had no
release button, so they would stay attached till someone with a key
unlocked them for her.  When he asked Abbey if they looked familiar, she
blushed, and then admitted they were from the pictures she liked on the
internet, being further forced to confess that she liked to look at the
young girls tied up by anchor points like these.

   Taking out a set of ropes, Dr Goodwin told her that was alright, because
that was exactly what they were going to do with her now, and with the
nurse's help, Abbey found her leg stumps tied off to the posts at the foot
of her bed.  Not only was she tied, she was also in a full splits,
stretched till her thighs were hurting terribly, but the doctor dismissed
her complaints, telling her that now she was a teenager, it was all part of
a young woman's place in life, to suffer some degree of pain and
discomfort. Removing the sock from her amputated arm, Dr Goodwin revealed
that while they'd had her in theatre, they had reworked her residual arm to
take a click lock fitting, the same as her legs had, and he now fitted an
anchor point to Abbey's arm as well.  At first, Abbey looked at her arm
stump in shock, mostly because it was so unexpected that she had been
fitted up like this without any word of warning, but she quickly saw how
all three limbs now matched.  Her good arm now looked out of place, and
Abbey struggled to fit it into her changing mental image of how her body
should look, while she watched the doctor bring over a prosthetic she'd not
seen before.

   Dr Goodwin showed her how this one hinged open, revealing a moulded form
to rest the back of her hand and fingers into, reaching right up to the
middle of her forearm, and closing to wrap her lower arm in a realistic, if
rather long, artificial limb.  Since her right arm was amputated above her
elbow, the difference was hardly noticeable without any reference for
comparison.  The fit was a bit loose, which Dr Goodwin said was due to the
packing and mechanics having not been installed yet, opening up the hinge,
and fitting solid foam shapes against the sides of Abbey's hand.  As he
slowly closed the section from her fingers to her wrist, this packing
started to roll Abbey's hand into a tube, while she was instructed to
wriggle her fingers into a comfortable position inside the socket.  In a
few minutes, the device locked shut, firmly trapping her hand like a vice,
as the compression began to make all her joints ache painfully, building up
to the same level as her newly amputated legs, then levelling off.

   The nurse brought over a tray with a set of four metal levers in a frame
on it, and two shaped foam blocks, which Dr Goodwin fitted together, then
slipped into the top part of Abbey's prosthetic arm, closing that half over
till it clicked into place.  Abbey could feel it squashing her forearm,
making it almost impossible to rotate her wrist.  Fitting a click lock into
the socket at the end of the arm, Dr Goodwin attached a steel ring anchor
point, so now all the girl's limbs could be easily and permanently
restrained.  With the nurse's help, these two new rings were tied off with
rope to the head of the bed, pulling Abbey into an immovable star with only
the slightest squirming being seen as the doctor pinched her nipples, and
the nurse pulled her outer labia really hard, stretching them open.

   Folding back a flap on the inside of her left forearm, the doctor showed
Abbey four small holes, into which he fitted a series of metal rods,
pressing them down till the girl felt the levers inside the casing dig into
her arm.  Dr Goodwin then pressed each rod just a little further till it
clicked in place, telling Abbey the levers were now putting low pressure on
her tendons, which over the next few weeks would prevent them from working.
The pressure would be increased slightly each day, and this project was to
see at what point the tendons could be severed, or made totally
inoperative, by the application of gradually increasing force.  A second
line of attack was two of the small levers that restricted blood flow
through the main artery, and would cause the flesh lower down to atrophy,
and wither away.  It was expected that within six to twelve months the
complete left hand and wrist would have wasted away, and would then need to
be amputated, like the rest of her limbs had been.

   As Abbey listened to the doctor's calm explanation of how he would
destroy her one good hand, she was mentally torn between anxieties over how
she was going to pick anything up and a subtle, growing uneasiness about
the imbalance in her limbs.  In a reassuring voice Dr Goodwin told her she
would love her new arm when it matched the others, then he used a much
stronger tone when he asked her to agree with him, which she complied with.
The poor girl had no inkling of how her resistance to these drastic
measures had been eroded away during her extensive therapy sessions with
Steve Waters, all she felt was happier, and much more secure in her own
future.  She saw nothing unusual in being completely naked in front of all
these people, and even the housemaid was there, after bringing refreshments
for the adults, nor was it strange that her residual limbs were tightly
roped to the corners of her bed, with a tourniquet tightening each rope
further, till her joints were almost dislocated.

   Responding to the doctor's enquiry, Abbey explained that her position
was giving her a great deal of pain where the steel inserts were embedded
in her bones, but it was much less than it had been following her surgery,
and she could also reduce it, but it took a lot of concentration.  She
admitted that she actually felt more pain from all the tension in her hips
and shoulders, than she did from the anchor sites, and she had very little
control over it either.  Dr Goodwin patted the inside of her bare thigh,
right up against her spread pussy, telling Abbey that she was responding
exactly as he'd wanted her to, so they would run a few tests now, just to
make sure, then she'd be finished for the day.

   Nurse Janet suggested they could do a basic pin test, bringing over one
of the larger gauge hypodermic needles, taking off the wrapper, and
sticking a line of pin pricks down each of Abbey's arms from the shoulders.
Each one elicited a squeak from the girl, and a small twist or jerk, within
the restraint of the ropes.  Janet handed over the sharp needle to the
housekeeper who said they'd need a bigger test, and pressed in the point
against Abbey's growing breast bud, pushing half of the length into the
firm flesh of the underside, taking it out, then easing it slowly into the
upper breast slope.  Four times on each tittie had the youngster crying
from the pain, and for a final test, Janet fetched another needle, so that
she and the housekeeper could place one on the end of each nipple.  They
watched Abbey writhing as the needles were inserted fully down the teat,
leaving only the metal Luer lock protruding, congratulating the girl for
being so brave.

   Abbey was glad to be released, but her sore titties, and aching, swollen
clit wanted desperately to be rubbed to a mind blowing climax, but all she
got was a gentle rub, or a soft squeeze, from the doctor and Steve Waters,
and a kiss from the nurse and the housekeeper.  Michael showed Dr Goodwin
out; thanking him for all the work he had done with his daughter, and then
went to his study to deal with some business.  The housekeeper returned to
the kitchen, while Nurse Janet went home for the rest of the day, her
schedule would have her back early in the morning to care for Abbey as she
got used to her various prosthetics.

   There was only Steve left with Abbey in her bedroom, and he was smiling
as the girl struggled to sit upright, the reduced counterbalance weight of
her legs throwing off all her learned behaviour.  Asking for her arms, he
gripped the anchor points she held out to him, adding just a little pull as
she levered her upper body into position, then sat there with her legs
apart for balance.  Sitting beside her, running his fingers along her bare
thigh, softly brushing her pussy lips occasionally, he explained about the
changes to her pain blocks, as he'd promised to do earlier.  He hadn't
agreed in reducing the effectiveness of her pain block ability completely
for all the other areas, except her amputations, despite her doctor's
insistence that he do so.  What he had done, was to provide her with a
graduated control system that would start off quite strong, blocking half
of the pain levels, but slowly over the next hour would permit more pain
signals to get through.  He assured the young girl that he'd put a limit in
place, so that she would never have to suffer more than she could bear, but
it was automatically linked to her body's defence system, and was set to
kick in well before she passed out from the pain.  She had no control over
that, but the effectiveness of her blocks would increase with her sexual
excitement, so all she had to do was cum as often as possible, and she'd be
fine, most of the time.  As Dr Goodwin had told her, pain was part of a
teenager's life, Steve had just made sure that her pleasure hadn't been
neglected either.

   Over the next few weeks, Abbey learned to use all her prosthetics, her
favourite was a set of three crutches, one clipped into each arm, and the
third was a centre crutch, that fitted between her legs, and took all of
her weight when she walked.  It had a cup that covered her from the
tailbone to her pubic line, two posts at the rear, which went into her
bottom and pussy, and a front anchor that slipped behind her pubic mound,
and protruded into the top of her slit to rub against her clitoris.  The
shaft was spring loaded to reduce the impact on her tender pussy, but it
also worked as a pump that forced air into the rubber liners that Nurse
Janet fitted over her anchor posts.  As she walked, each step would inflate
the sleeves, stretching her insides, and bloating her tummy.  The liners
all had different shapes, some round, some were long and would snake deep
inside her, and one of the front ones had a long point that Nurse Janet
fitted carefully into her cervix, so that it would reach into her uterus
and expand into the farthest reaches of Abbey's womb.

   As with most people, Abbey's life settled into a routine, though not the
routine of a regular teen, she had very little independence, since she
could hardly get out of bed on her own, nor even wash or dress herself,
someone had to do all that for her.  Most times it would be the housekeeper
who cared for her, pulling her covers back when she first entered Abbey's
bedroom, and removing her nightie if she was wearing one that morning.  As
she laid there naked and exposed, sometimes the housekeeper would just go
to her bathroom and turn on the shower to warm up, or fill the bathtub,
other times she would tell Abbey it was time for stretches, to keep her
supple.  These mobility exercises were part of her physio routine, and
there was a chart on her wall with pictures of all the positions she had to
go through, and they weren't drawings as there were in a gym, these were
real pictures.  Each illustration was a full photograph of Abbey, each
without any clothes at all, her body bent, twisted, and stretched, with a
perfect view of her bottom, pussy, or titties.

   She didn't have to go through all the routines, but she was expected to
do at least ten each day, two of which had to have a high difficulty
rating, and these would hurt terribly as her arms, legs, or back stretched
till they nearly broke.  Abbey was urged not to complain too much about her
stretches, and while a little complaint now and then was tolerated, if she
objected too strongly, or didn't put in enough effort, then she would be
punished.  It was always on her bottom to start, followed by whatever area
was being worked on, thighs, upper arms, or shoulders, maybe her tummy or
shoulders and back, and it always finished with six of the cane across the
breasts or pussy.  This made sure Abbey would always put the utmost effort
into her workouts, but even if she worked herself to a standstill, and made
no mistakes at all, then the housekeeper would at the very least lay the
tawse across her outthrust titties.

   Getting about the house was quite easy when Abbey was helped into her
artificial limbs, and she had almost perfected walking up and down stairs,
although slowly, while the wheelchair was no problem, and enabled her to
move much more freely.  However, some days the housekeeper liked to carry
Abbey round, either perched on her hip like a baby, tucked under her arm
like a sack of potatoes, or cuddled against the housekeeper's chest, with
her head on her shoulder.  Without her arms and legs, Abbey was quite light
enough to handle, and her Daddy had even made a frame so she could be
carried like a suitcase, with her click lock mountings fastened to it.  It
was quite comfortable if she was face up, but the housekeeper liked to fix
her face down in it, and since the frame was adjustable, her arms would be
bent backwards so her shoulders were together, while her legs would be
pulled forward, and apart at full spread.  When she was carried feet first
like this, she would often be put down so a table or chair leg was wedged
into her pussy groove, or pushed up against one of the corners, and she was
never laid flat, but with her rear end propped a foot off the floor, which
meant she would gradually slide down whatever she was leaned on.  When
Abbey was carried head first, she wouldn't be held high enough, so now and
then her titties would rub along the floor, scraping her nipples across the
carpet, but always over the coconut door mat, which made her teats red raw.
Mind you, when Abbey came back inside, the housekeeper would gladly rub
some soothing cream into her breasts, squeezing, pressing and twisting
really hard to make sure it was all rubbed in properly.

   Most days Abbey would be dressed in her school uniform and sent off to
Junior High in her wheelchair, but after school, weekends, and holidays,
she has loads of really pretty things to wear, most of them with matching
socks to go over her stumps.  The housekeeper liked to keep Abbey in
lingerie though, for as long as possible, putting her in a dress just
before Michael comes home, so that the young girl is presentable for her
Daddy.  At least one day a week, Abbey is kept completely naked, and during
school holidays the housekeeper has a special carrying frame that she uses
to tote the youngster round the house.  Her rear is supported by a ball
ended stainless steel hook, which gets slipped in to either her bottom or
her pussy, and her top end has a pair of cantilever clamps that fasten over
her tiny apple boobs, up against her ribs, her own body weight causing them
to grip tighter and tighter.  If Abbey is carried face up, her titties are
stretched straight out from her body, but if she is facing down, then each
globe is pulled sideways, away from each other, as if trying to get them
round to her back.  Either method is extremely painful, especially if Abbey
is taken into one of the rooms where a support bracket is installed, and
she is just hung up as if she were a coat.  A couple of hours like this and
her breasts will turn purple, then ache horribly for the rest of the day,
especially if they are squeezed, which her Daddy has started doing recently
as part of his greeting.

   Michael hadn't consciously realised he'd changed his behaviour towards
his young daughter, since they had always hugged and cuddled, both of them
enjoying a more tactile embrace than other families.  To him, it was just
an outward acceptance of his lovely young girl blossoming into a sexually
attractive young woman, and of no more importance than the erection he got
from the feel of her firm breasts pressed into his chest.  That was just
nature, the reaction of one body to another.  While true that this would
not be found acceptable in polite society, then neither would a nudist
lifestyle, and liberal sexual attitudes had always held sway in this
household.  The subtle shift was due to Steve Waters releasing some of
Michael's inhibitions towards Abbey, as well as sensitising him to the
changes puberty was making in her body, reinforced by realising he had a
fatherly duty to monitor Abbey's development.  He could distinctly remember
the conversation they had together, discussing his concerns that Abbey was
missing out on not having her Mom around, and Steve's advice that he take
on those motherly duties himself.  With a little encouragement along the
way, Michael recalled occasions when his wife Sue had helped Abbey at bath
time, demonstrating how the girl's young body responded to touch on its
sensitive places, although the actual recollection was enhanced by Steve's
concealed suggestions that it had gone much further than the reality of the
situation.

   The next Friday, following Abbey's evening bath, Michael carried his
daughter into her bedroom, wrapped up in a towel, then rolled her naked
body onto the bed, both of them laughing as she struggled to work herself
to the pillows, so she could sit herself up, while her Daddy kept dragging
her back down.  When they'd had enough rough and tumble, Michael said
"Abbey, spread," and the girl immediately laid back and stretched her
abbreviated limbs into a star, reacting to the trigger phrase like an
obedient dog.  As he gently stroked the stumps of his daughter's amputated
arm and legs, Michael explained that now her body was beginning to develop,
he was going to monitor the changes, to make sure that everything was
progressing according to plan, and to rectify any problems that might turn
up.  She was going to be examined every Friday evening before going to bed,
including measurements and sensitivity testing of the growing parts.  In
order to make her accessible, Daddy had made one of his special frames for
her, and he went and wheeled it into the bedroom, setting it at the bottom
of the bed.  Picking Abbey up in his arms, he carried her to the frame,
pointing out two click lock sockets, and telling Abbey to fit her legs into
them, which she accomplished with some difficulty, since the sockets were
set on a level, but her legs were not.  She managed it, but was left with
one leg bent, and her hips swivelled to the side, balancing precariously
till her Daddy adjusted the frame to compensate, and she was upright on her
uneven legs.  Showing Abbey how positionable the frame was, Michael moved
her legs apart to a full split, the tendons on her inner thighs at their
painful limit, closed them up, then tilted them upward till she was in a
seated position in mid-air.  Taking her shoulders, he leaned Abbey's upper
body back till she was horizontal, then made her hold position with her
abs, encouraging her to hold on as long as possible, but watching as she
quickly weakened, falling further back till she was hung upside down from
her hips.

   After a few minutes, when the blood had rushed to her head, he lifted
his daughter back upright, then moved the frame to support her properly,
giving her a hug for the effort she'd put in to hold her position for so
long.  Moving on to the promised exam without any more distractions,
Michael ran his fingers over his daughter's breasts, providing a running
commentary of their shape and firmness, which he assessed with a strong
squeeze, right down to the budding core structure.  He stroked his thumb
across Abbey's nipples, complimenting her as they stiffened at his gentle
touch, lengthening to twice the size of most thirteen year olds, thanks to
the daily sessions on the suction machine in the garage.  As he traced the
outline of each apple sized globe, Michael recounted the discussion that
he'd had with Dr Goodwin about uncontrolled development during puberty, and
how Abbey liked her breasts as they were now, providing evidence that she
was growing into a young woman, rather than being a child.  However, over
the next year, as her hormones unpredictably had reactions to her growth
stimulus, her lovely little titties might swell massively, causing stretch
marks as the skin struggled to keep pace with the layers of fatty tissue
being laid down inside the body of each breast.  Abbey's friend Samantha
had returned to school after summer break this year with her button nipples
inflated to a huge C cup, and everyone in the gym locker room had
commiserated with the distraught girl while they traced the white stretch
lines all over her solid titties.

   Abbey was assured that she wouldn't have that problem, because her
growth rate was going to be closely monitored and controlled, so she
watched as her Daddy now pinched up the end of her breast, around the
pinkish areolae, shaping it into a ball.  She thought how much it looked
like Maryanne's boobs at school, with a really cute bulge on top, almost
like two for the price of one, and Maryanne said they were so sensitive
that she loved stroking them whenever she could.  When Abbey told her Daddy
that she'd really like to have breasts like her friend, he fetched one of
her hair bands and wrapped that around the tittie, just behind the aureole,
then did the same to the other side, sliding each one back till he had just
the shape he wanted.  Moving the cheval mirror over, he showed Abbey how
the elastic narrowed down each globe to form a neck that swelled out again
on the other side, making her look exactly like her favourite anime
character from the internet.

   Going behind Abbey, Michael reached round her hips, cupping the edges of
her tiny pubic mound with his fingers, to show her how Dr Goodwin was going
to shape her mons to look like her Mommy's, with a prominent bulge, and a
deep centre indent.  As her Daddy squeezed inward and upward, Abbey could
see her pubes fattening up, pushing forward, and her groove extending
higher, with the hint of a line on top, just as she remembered Mommy looked
when they bathed together.  Telling Daddy how much she'd love to have a
cunny like her Mom's, Abbey related one of her nice memories from when
she'd been in the bath with Mommy, and was asking questions about her body.
She wanted to know when hers would grow, and why they were so different, so
Mommy had let her explore her grown up cunny, first the smooth mons,
stroking it to find that while it was hairless, just like her own, it
wasn't as smooth.  Even though Mommy waxed it to pull the hairs out, they
still grew back, as they were starting to then, and she was allowed to use
Mommy's abrasion pad to polish all the tiny hairs and bumps away, till they
were both as soft and smooth as each other.  Abbey had thought it was
really cool that while she wanted to be big and grown up like Mommy was,
Mom wanted to be soft and smooth like her daughter because it was more
feminine, and she'd whispered that Daddy really liked her to be bald and
smooth, so Mommy wasn't allowed to grow hair unless Daddy said so.

   Michael confirmed that Mom was telling the truth, and whether she had
pubic hair, how it was styled, or if it was removed altogether, were all
under Daddy's control, because he was the head of the house, and in charge
of things.  In fact, now that Abbey was thirteen, and already growing a
small amount of hair on her mons, it was time that she came under active
control as well, so from now on he would tell her if she was allowed to
change anything about her private parts, and she must come and ask him if
she wanted to change anything herself.  When Abbey said that she had been
an obedient girl, always doing as she was told anyway, and asking when
there was something she wanted to do, Michael explained that she did these
things out of courtesy, because she'd been raised properly.  Abbey
admitted, when Daddy asked, that there were very few of her friends that
behaved like she did, and she did get ribbed about it sometimes.  She also
agreed that most of her girlfriends would be mortified if either of their
parents saw them naked, and they could do whatever they liked in personal
matters, one of them had even got her navel pierced without telling her Mom
or Dad, but it did look really cute when she showed them all after gym.

   Michael asked his daughter if she'd discussed any of her feelings about
nudity with Steve Waters, and Abbey said they'd had quite a few
conversations about how she was different to her friends, and didn't feel
comfortable at school admitting to the amount of freedom she enjoyed at
home.  Michael knew all this of course, since he'd had many conversations
with Steve as part of his own therapy, resulting in his basic attitudes
changing, in that while he enjoyed seeing Abbey freely running round the
house naked, he missed that sense of humiliation that most normal girls
would have felt in that situation.  He knew that Abbey was better off being
free of the guilt and shame her friends felt, but despite that, the thought
of having the power to reduce a girl to tears so easily was an extremely
erotic prospect.  Steve had helped him to see the advantages of both sides
of the situation, and how it would help his daughter to appreciate being
able to bestow the gift of access to her most private areas to a boy she
would one day feel very strongly about.

   Michael asked his daughter if she would prefer to consider her sexual
parts private, like her school friends did, rather than having her Daddy
openly seeing them all the time.  He carefully phrased his question as
Steve had suggested, so that Abbey felt free to choose, being unaware that
it was actually a trigger phrase that would fully change the way Abbey
viewed her own body, and several other reactions.  When she replied that
she wanted to be just like other girls, this was also a trigger phrase, but
specially built for Michael, to modify his perceptions so that the sight of
Abbey's bare breasts newly shaped as they were, turned him on immensely. 
Not only that, but he now felt conflicting emotions that it wasn't right
for him to be excited by his daughter being displayed in front of him.  It
was a delicate piece of mental engineering that so carefully balanced a
father's feelings for his little girl, but Steve was a craftsman in this
area, and each emotion fed on the other, strengthening it.  Abbey was now
in the same state as her Daddy, finding that his question had clarified all
those personal things she'd discussed with Steve, making her realise that
she did want to be like all her friends, so she had agreed with him.  She
too felt that it wasn't right for her to be exposed naked like this, but
she had to do as she was told, showing all her intimate places to her
Daddy, and that too made her sexually turned on, her young pussy juicing up
at the realisation of both emotions.

   Moving on to the first change, Michael announced that he was going to
trim Abbey's pubic hair with tweezers to produce a horizontal line, and
bringing the instrument to where his daughter was secured, he began to pull
out the sparse hairs one at a time.  Each tug brought a squeal from the
young girl as he worked on building a small line of bare flesh beneath the
hair that was to remain, and by the time he had half of the small
prohibited bush removed, there were tears streaming down her cheeks.  Abbey
was sobbing before her lower mound was baby smooth once more, but despite
the pain, her young clit was erect and throbbing, and her petals were slick
with girl juice.  Putting down the tweezers, Michael started rubbing body
lotion into the reddened patch on his daughter's pussy, before moving on to
coat her labia, then drawing his finger along her damp groove, and across
the hardened clitoris, enjoying her twitch at every gentle touch.

   As Abbey hovered on the edge of orgasm, her Daddy asked how many times
she masturbated now that even her good hand was becoming disabled, so
through the sexual fog, she admitted that it was difficult to manage more
than three or four times each day.  A couple of the artificial legs were
really good for giving her a lovely cum, especially the centre crutch, and
there was plenty of furniture with corners she could rub her pussy against.
Rolling her clit between his fingers, Michael informed Abbey that she
needed to learn some self-control now that she was a teenager, so she was
no longer allowed to masturbate in private.  Every Friday she must give an
erotic demonstration to Daddy of how she brought herself to a climax, and
then he'd bring her off again himself.  If she was unbearably horny at any
other time, she must ask permission to be allowed to cum, firstly from
Daddy if he was at home, or otherwise she must ask the housekeeper to do it
for her.  When she asked the housekeeper to let her cum she would also be
given a caning for disturbing the staff, with the choice of implement, how
many strokes, and where they were inflicted being completely at the
housekeeper's discretion, as a reward for helping the girl satisfy her
desires.

   As Michael outlined each of these new arrangements, he brought Abbey to
a fresh climax that had her thrashing in her support frame, and gasping for
breath.  Because of her age, she would also be subjected to grown up
punishments from now on, with cane, crop and groove strap.  The paddle,
strap and hand were only for warming up, and Abbey's breasts, pussy and
bottom are all valid targets, with her bottom taking twice the previous
amount she'd been used to as a child.  Opening the door to her closet,
Michael showed his daughter the array of punishment implements that were
now hanging on the back of the door there, picking up the cane, and
bringing it over to her.  He laid the bamboo on her bed, then secured her
arms into the click locks on the upper part of her frame, adjusting the
supports so that Abbey was stretched out and firmly secured in place. 
She'd only been caned once before, a couple of years ago, but her Daddy now
explained that her earlier punishment was no comparison to what she would
be given from now on, and she was to consider it a demonstration that she'd
become a young lady.

   Stepping behind her, he tapped her bottom with the smooth wood as he
took aim, then drew his arm back and whipped the cane forward to deliver a
powerful stroke across his daughter's firm bottom cheeks.  The whistle of
the bamboo through the air and the sharp crack of wood against girl flesh
was every bit as arousing as he hoped it would be, bringing back fond
memories of sessions he'd enjoyed striping his wife Susan's bare bottom. 
Abbey's gasp at this first cut was identical to her Mommy, as was the
tremble that visibly ran through her small body.  When she found her voice,
in quiet tones she said she was sorry, telling Daddy how much that had hurt
her poor bottom, and promising him she'd be a good girl, ending with gentle
sobs as tears ran down her cheeks.

   Putting the cane down, Michael fetched over one of Abbey's lace trimmed
hankies, stood in front of her, and mopped up the girl juice from her
previous orgasms, where it had coated the pink groove of her sex.  As he
cleaned her up, he explained to his daughter how that was just the first
stroke of a maintenance punishment that she'd be given every Friday
evening, after her examination, to cover any errors committed during the
week, that she hadn't been brought to task for.  She would still be spanked
each day for whatever shortcomings she had been caught doing, but he
realised that a young lady was likely to do many naughty things that were
never found out, which this would address.  Unlike her regular discipline,
where there would be allocations set for the number of strokes each offence
would incur, on Friday nights she would be caned and whipped until her
Daddy considered she'd been suitably punished, and not a minute sooner.

   Having cleaned the outside of Abbey's juicy pussy, her Daddy now worked
a hankie covered finger into the entrance, then deeper into the girl's wet
sex channel, twisting it round until all her cream was soaked up.  Moving
behind her again, he took the cane and applied a stinging cut above and
below the first one, sufficiently spaced to allow the full intensity to
work its way deep into her soft body.  Michael was never one to hurry a
discipline session, always enjoying his wife's lovely squirming body as she
worked the pain towards her more sexual areas, the tremors becoming more
intense with each passing stroke.  Abbey was now reacting in the same way
her Mom always had, each cut bringing a squeal, a sob, and then a moan of
rising passion.  The next two strokes landed further down the curve of her
bottom, the sixth cutting right into the tender crease where cheeks joined
upper thighs, pushing his daughter over the edge into a body wracking
orgasm.

   He walked round to the front to enjoy the wonderful sight of a teenager
locked in the throes of sexual passion, helpless as he gently stroked her
protruding clitoris, each touch pushing her back to the peak, denying her
any release from such awesome feelings.  She gradually regained a level of
control when her Daddy went over to the closet, but when he returned with a
riding crop, and began tapping her apple breasts with the wide leather end
piece, Abbey once more felt her excitement rising at the prospect of that
whip falling across her titties.  Daddy was only flicking it softly onto
her smooth globes, working down towards the puffy, pointed nipples, telling
her how it was time her growing breasts were given a grown up whipping. 
Abbey watched in awe as the thin shaft of the crop sank into the firm tit
flesh, the flicking stroke taking if off just as quickly, leaving both
breasts jiggling as they exploded with fire.  Another stroke whipped
upward, lifting her firm titties, and bringing a second cry of pain from
delicate body parts only used to soft caresses, not the bite of stiff
leather.  The next target was just behind the puffy aureole, where the
suction machine in the garage had begun developing a swollen end to each
tittie, adding another contour to girlish breast bumps, and increasing
their exquisite sensitivity.  As the pain settled slightly, an upward cut
bit into the underside edges of Abbey's puffies, adding to the agony of
three previous strokes so that both breasts pulsated unbearably.  The last
two of the crop hit the base of each nipple, one at a time, feeling as if
the hardened teat had been sliced right off, but when Abbey looked down,
the reddened nubs were still in place, but quickly swelling till she
thought they would burst open.

   After putting the crop away, Michael came and kissed his daughter's tear
stained cheeks, the tip of her nose, and her pouting rose bud lips, gently,
but lingering till she started to moan as the passion rose once more in her
young body.  All those secret, whispered talks on sleepovers with her
girlfriends began to come true, kissing practice with each other paling
into insignificance against a pair of warm male lips, backed by years of
experience.  Abbey's eyes closed as the kiss grew longer, and her little
tongue hesitantly extended to touch her Daddy's lips, slowly easing between
them to explore his mouth.  When their tongues met she could hardly breath,
and each one of her exploring advances was quietly responded to, allowing
her to take the lead into places she'd only ever dreamed of.  Even when her
Daddy's hands squeezed the cane marks across the cheeks of her bottom, she
just moaned louder, keeping up the kissing.  When his chest pressed against
her small whipped breasts, her tongue merely increased its thrusting as her
panting grew so fast she became dizzy.

   Michael finally broke the embrace, gently drawing back to gaze into
Abbey's desire filled eyes, asking if she deserved another punishment for
such unladylike behaviour with her Daddy.  As he ran his fingers over her
mons, twisting tufts of her pubic hair, asking where he should discipline
her next, the lust crazed girl begged him to whip her naughty pussy for
getting her worked up to this state.  Michael moved her metal support frame
round, tipping it backwards so she was laid on the bed, before getting a
thin leather strap on a wooden handle from Abbey's closet door.  Standing
by her head, he took careful aim between her spread legs, bringing the
strap flying down onto the edge of her right labia, then another on her
left labia, watching each swell up and spread her narrow groove open.  With
her thin, pink inner lips now exposed, two more stokes of the strap lashed
into these delicate pieces of flesh, but the pain was now matched by equal
levels of sexual excitement, each sensation adding to the power of the
other.  Michael now used the instrument for the task it was designed for,
as a groove strap, to whip deep into the central crevice of a girl's most
sensitive area between her legs, into her sex slit.  There were two more
strokes to be given to his daughter, to make up the six on each sexual part
of her young body that he had intended to administer, one went the full
length of the groove to allow the tip to bite deep into her anal ring. 
When she finished squealing and squirming, he delivered the next cut a
little shorter so the end of the strap dug into the entrance of her vagina,
curling right into the tunnel itself and had to be pulled out.

   As Abbey lay writhing from the greatest agony she'd ever felt in her
little pussy, she began to cum uncontrollably, thrusting her slit upward,
so her Daddy laid another cut right onto the pouting mouth of her pee hole,
and another along the underside of her clit, stretching it upward.  The
next strokes hit the very tip of her swollen clit, then the retracted hood,
and then the very apex of her groove.  Her bright red gash was offset
beautifully against her pale mound, with its small tuft of hair, so Michael
now moved between her legs to bring the groove strap vertically down on her
mons with a dozen more cuts.  Admiring the red and white striped flesh for
a while, he then filled in the gaps with another dozen, leaving Abbey with
a completely red crotch, aching and throbbing with both pain and passion,
the aftershocks of orgasm fading and building till she finally fell asleep
in her frame.

   It was several hours later when Abbey woke up, tucked under her Barbie
duvet, with a desperate need to pee, but at least she wasn't tied to the
bed as she often spent her nights, so she'd be able to relieve her bladder.
It was difficult for her to make her own way to the bathroom, but she
prided herself of these small independences that she was allowed,
struggling with two legs of different lengths which made walking so
awkward. She was grateful that Camila, the housekeeper, had left a china
potty out for her, which meant Abbey didn't have to climb up to the toilet,
but could straddle the pot with her legs spread apart.  When she'd finished
peeing, Abbey made her way back to bed, lying awake for a few minutes as
she reflected on the evening's turn of events.  It had been a gruelling
experience, being so extensively punished, painful beyond anything she'd
known before, other than her surgery, but somehow it was also the most
sexually satisfying occurrence as well, and she didn't know why.  While she
didn't look forward to being punished so severely, she would gladly accept
whatever her Daddy did to her if she had the chance to cum like that again,
and now it would be every Friday evening he'd said, and she fell back to
sleep with a smile.



   *****************

   Footer :This story is fantasy, not based on any real events, and should
not be re-enacted in any way.



   If you, the reader, do not know the difference between reality and
fantasy, then leave now, and seek urgent medical help.





   Feedback, and constructive criticism, is very welcome

   via mykatiekittykat at yahoo dot com



   to be continued in part 2