SPECIAL

BY ASBO

"Please, Gramps, it hurts!"

"It has to, Darlin', you know that."

"Oooowww!"

Ten-year-old Kristin Zuleg's face crumpled and flushed and the
first tears of the day filled her big green eyes.

"I'm never going to be as good as Mommy," she blubbered.

Her grandfather tidied away the loose end of the cord around her
ankle and slid his hand up her leg, stroking the inside of her
thigh comfortingly.

"Sssh. Sure you will, Pumpkin. You just got a lot to learn."

He was unable to resist the warm, soft cleft, pale and hairless,
and his fingers slipped higher, curling over the perfect little
slit.

"Your Mommy was just the same when she was a little girl. But she
learned. We just got to keep on doing it every day. And bit by
bit you'll get used to it, and you'll start liking it proper, and
before you know it, you'll be a good girl and be asking to do it
all the time!"

Kristin sounded unconvinced.

"But I'm only little," she whined through her sobbing."Yes you
are," he replied, "but you're also very special and that makes it
even more important I train you up good. If you'd been living
here before, I would have been able to do this from when you were
real small and by now you would already be going up to the Lodge
at weekends."

He reluctantly stopped stroking her exposed pussy and turned his
attention to the cord around her other ankle, tightening the
short length that held her to the bedstead so that she was now
upended symmetrically, with her legs over her head, her feet
almost touching the iron frame, and her ass and cunny lifted up
from the sheet and all ready for him. She winced and sniffed.

"Yep, if your stubborn Mother hadn't hauled you off to the other
side of the country, I could have made you into a little star
years ago. Even more special than she was."

He sat back on the edge of the bed, to admire his handiwork.

Though he had been tying up his granddaughter like this after
school in the spare room for, what, five weeks now, he hadn't yet
tired of the spectacle of the tiny girl held open and inviting
and awaiting his attention. And every time, he mentally compared
it to a similar scene, some sixteen years earlier, when he had
first strung up her mother, shortly after her eighth birthday,
and begun conditioning her to be special too.

Kristin was just as pretty, with the same pale, almost
translucent skin as her late mother, though nobody ever did work
out whose green eyes she had inherited. There were half a dozen
most likely fathers amongst the exclusive membership of the
Lodge, but none ever put themselves forward as the One.

Fuck, that whole business had been a disaster.

Something had gone very wrong, that young Shelley had ever
managed to get in the family way and then his stupid bitch wife
had refused to let him take her for a termination, so they took
her out of school and she had Kristin at home, and with a bit of
subterfuge, managed successfully to pass her off as the fifteen
year-old's new baby sister.

He grinned, looking back at that crazy time: it had been a heck
of a relief seeing the baby's green eyes and thinking thank the
Lord she ain't mine.

After all, he had been fucking Shelley during the week for the
best part of four years but had been mighty careful all that
time, so it sure would have been cruel fate if he had been the
man who made her pregnant.

"How you doing, Pumpkin?" he asked the small girl.

She had stopped sniveling but with the time approaching, was
already perspiring and becoming nervous.

"Alright, thank you."

"Sir," she added hastily, remembering that from now on, until he
let her out of the room, she had to stop thinking of him as her
Gramps and instead be very respectful. Hostettes had to be
respectful all the time and she didn't want to let him down. It
was a funny word, but that's what the special girls who went to
the Lodge were called. Being a good girl, she was always polite
to all grown-ups anyway, but he had told her that what made the
Hostettes special was that they always did everything they were
told and only the very best girls could learn how to do that.

"Good girl," he smiled and leaned across the bed and kissed her
very tenderly right on her hot, musky little mound.

And it sent a shiver through her tiny naked body, as that meant
he had begun. The Special Hour, when he helped her learn all the
things she would have to know before they would let her go to the
Lodge.

There were some things he did every time, but it was as if each
evening, when she followed him into the room, he had some new
surprise waiting for her. Already, she was scared. But also just
a bit excited.

There was so much she still didn't understand.

Some of the things he did were real nice, even if they was things
she only thought grown-ups did. Even made her giggle thinking
about them!

But a lot of it was real hard and sometimes she didn't' want to
be a Hostette any more, because it hurt.

She thought about it all the time now. When she lay in bed at
night, having her usual silent conversation with Mister Bear as
she drifted off to sleep, she even confided to her teddy that in
a dumb way she almost sort of looked forward to it now. It was
all still so strange, living with her Grandparents, miles away
from her old school and her friends and the trailer park. She
missed Mommy so much, but she was old enough to accept, sadly,
that Mommy was dead and now she had to learn to live a new life
back here, where she had lived as a baby and toddler. Her
Grandparents were OK mostly. She told herself that it was nicer
in a lot of ways than being in the City, even if she didn't have
her Mommy no more.

Each afternoon, as the time approached to join the others on the
school bus home, she would become quiet and reflective.

It was her massive secret. Her and Gramps.

But he said she was really special and that made her very happy.
He must love her so very much to take so much trouble to help her
learn.

Late afternoons, when Grandma was out working at the diner, he
would meet her off the bus. Sometimes she really wanted to go
play with some of the kids in her new class but she always said
she had to do something and couldn't.

Gramps wouldn't have liked her doing that.

The first couple times, no more than a week after her
Grandparents had come up on the Greyhound to fetch her, he had
just sat her down in the spare room, told her stuff about this
Lodge place in the Lakes, which was like some sort of club thing
that all the important men in the town went to. And about how her
Mom used to go there weekends when she was a young girl. Mommy
had been one of the special girls, been a Hostette - one of the
best they had ever had, Grandpa said - but then he also said she
was so special he thought she could be even better! In the Lodge,
they had this Den where some of the men did these parties and the
Hostettes got to go for free because they helped out. It sounded
sort of fun, even if it was a bit scary too.

She didn't know why her Mom had never told her about that. Gramps
was nice, telling her. Else she might never have got to find out
and she might never have got to go to the parties.

The next time, he told her to take off her clothes, because
that's one of the funny things they sometimes got the Hostettes
to do at them parties and so she sat on his lap and he was
holding and touching her and she tried to imagine what it would
be like. Though because it was Gramps telling her, she knew it
must be OK.

It was ever so exciting, thinking she had been picked to be one
of the special girls in the Den. Just like Mommy was. And even
though she was only new round here! It all had to be a huge
secret and though she didn't really believe her tongue would be
cut out if she ever said something, she took what Gramps said
very seriously indeed.

Kristin blinked. Her mind stopped its wandering.

She felt the spiky tickle of Gramps' whiskers scratching at the
soft skin between her legs. She knew it wasn't normal. Normal
girls don't have their Gramps licking their slits do they? But it
was OK if you were special. It thrilled her when he was happy
with her. And anyhow, she was used to him doing it now. It was
even better than when she put her hand down there at night and
squeezed it hard between her legs. It made her tummy go all tight
and when his fingers eased her lips apart and he wiggled his
tongue right in her hole, she always got all goosebumpy! So very
bad!

Then he stopped and she was holding her breath. Waiting.

For like, ages.

She knew he was there; knew he was moving about, but being
squashed up double she couldn't see past her own tummy and what
he was going to use this time.

It was like flash of blinding light.

First white, then red.

Accompanied by a sharp stabbing in her right buttock, that
paused, and then exploded in her head. And was released in a
piercing shriek.

He waited for the noise to abate. She always cried so
beautifully, so reliably, but that little scream had been a real
joy, that made his heart skip a beat and his already hard cock
spasm with delight. Friday was the best night to try out new
things: her skin had the weekend to lose any telltale marks. And
the hairbrush was obviously doing the trick. Not the back - she
had already had that many times, as an alternative to the paddle.
No - bristles first was what he was trying tonight.

He sat on the bed and leaned over to inspect her ass. A neat oval
of redness had formed almost instantly and now the skin was
swelling slightly, a mass of tiny red dots could clearly be seen,
each one marking where a sharp bristle had punctured the surface.
His fingers caressed the soreness and the little girl flinched
and moaned through her sobbing.

"What do you say, girl?" he asked.

She fought her tears, knowing she had to reply immediately when
he called her that.

"Thank you, Sir."

"Did you like that?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Did it hurt bad?"

Kirstin spluttered. Her ass was smarting and kept giving her
nasty twinges. "Yes, Sir."

"Would you like me to do it again?"

"Yes please, Sir," she croaked.

He waited. It was great to see her tense up, expecting it. She
kept it up for a minute, then she had to relax and so he made a
deliberate movement so that she braced herself. But again he held
off. Teasing her.

Towards the end of a Special Hour, he could set her little body
twitching and shaking just by playing this game. When she was
exhausted and aching and her muscles were tired.

The brush swung hard against her other ass cheek, and she yelled
out again.

"Good girl. More?"

Gritting her teeth, half-choking on her own saliva, Kristin
managed a "Yes, Sir" and was rewarded with four firm strokes in
quick succession, which had her writhing against the mattress,
her ankles tight in the cord. She shrieked, gasping for breath
and her thin, broken cries rose and fell as the fiery stabbing in
her ass flared and burned.

He held her still, steadying her hips with his hand as he bent
and once again lapped between her labia. Her crying shook her
entire body, but once his tongue had pushed down between the
fleshy labia, and he sensed the tangy hot smoothness beneath, it
mattered not. He gripped her firmly, slithering his supple tongue
around, exploring behind her labia, prodding and pressing around
her miniature clitoris, teasing and probing the tight hotness of
the entrance to her vagina. His spit coated her tiny folds and
creases and as her sobbing ebbed to silence, replaced by her
irregular breathing and sucking of teeth as her immature pussy
began to respond, he finally detected the first hint of oily
juices ebbing up within her little cunny.

He sensed the change.

When the focus of her physical being changed from the pain in her
buttocks to the warm comforting sensations he was creating
between her legs. There was some subtle relaxation in her: a
slightly different pattern to her breathing.

Which meant of course she was ready for more pain.

The whole concept of this conditioning was to train her
subconscious to associate sexual pleasure with pain. So that the
two became inseparable.

For that was what in fact made a Hostette special - they were not
merely underage girls supplied for the sexual pleasure of the
Lodge's inner circle, but true little submissives who had been
trained to accept, even expect, to be handled roughly at the
weekly 'parties'.

The girls, a steady stream of mostly trailer trash, had become an
established feature of the Lodge, since (legend has it) after one
wild night back in the late Sixties, when some drunken members
decided to gangbang the super's twelve- year-old daughter, and a
large sum was paid to hush it up. But imaginations had been fired
and pockets round these parts were pretty deep, and a few of the
more senior members decided to provide the facility on a more
organized footing. Boasting a membership spanning the upper
echelons of the community, with influence in all the right
places, and large sums of cash available, the Lodge never found
it a problem maintaining around a dozen girls at a time, working
Saturday afternoon to Sunday morning. Newcomers were auctioned at
their induction and then payment to fathers, uncles or whatever
was regular and generous, a mix of basic retainer plus individual
tips. With all parties sworn to silence, it was an arrangement
that suited a lot of folk around here.

Kristin was being conditioned at a relatively late age, though
she had yet to display anything more than the earliest
indications of puberty. Despite this, she was so pliable and
trusting and naive and Gramps was confident that she would be
more than ready for her Thanksgiving induction. It generally
reckoned they needed up to a whole year before they were ready,
but he had committed to deliver her after only three months.

For he desperately needed the money.

All those years before, when he delivered Shelley for her
induction, he had cleared his debts around town and had enough
left over for a late registration Dodge. Kristin's mother, who
was only nine at the time, had been a big hit with the Lodge and
the subsequent rewards had also been accordingly generous. Happy
days. Before Shelley got it in her head to run away, taking her
kid with her.

But things were different now. He hadn't worked for a year and
doubted he would find anything worth taking again. Only his
wife's small wage from the diner kept them going. And yet she was
still expecting them to take that apartment down in Ocala,
Florida. He hadn't dared tell her how much short the nest egg
was.

So having to take on the kid after Shelley's accident was the
last thing he needed, but he pretty soon realized it could also
be his salvation. For when he stepped out the cab and saw his
granddaughter for the first time in seven years, he had no doubt
whatsoever what had to happen.

Kristin would be the Lodge's next new Hostette.

The memory was making him horny all over again.

Today had been a hot early Fall day and he had been looking
forward to this Special Hour.: there was always something special
about licking Kristin's sweet little girl pussy.

But he had to stop right there. Just the second she started to
respond. Fuck it!

He wiped his face with the back of his hand.

"You want some more, girl?" he drawled.

"Yes please, Sir," was her strained reply. He was sure she really
was beginning to get off on it, even though she were still only a
littl'un, so she probably genuinely meant it. Christ, they grew
up early these days.

Kristin's reply was indeed genuine - she loved having Gramps do
that rude stuff - but she also knew there would be a catch. She
knew she would be hurt first. Before he gave her the nice
feelings again.

How he would do it, nor how much, she had no idea. Her throat
felt sore and dry. A few minutes later, she found out.

She was too young to realize the irony. That, and too occupied
trying to accommodate the horrible sharp stinging.

And not just from her nipples today, either - Gramps also made
her put one on each of her pussy lips.

Hair grips, that he had asked her to choose for herself at the
Mall, and he even made her put them on herself! The pair of pink
ones on her titties, the blue ones down there.

They were the sprung clip type, with curved jaws about three
inches long. And on the inside, plastic spikes: lots of them.
They gripped hair bunches well enough, but they also made tender
parts of little girls very sore, very quickly.

When she did her cheerleader routine.

Ten times in a row, and if she paused, even for a second, Gramps
had the paddle ready, to swing hard against her ass.

She managed to hold back the tears for the first two routines,
but the stretching and pulling, especially between her legs, was
making the grips dig in. It was so hard doing it, for if one of
the clips fell off, she knew he would put her over his knee and
paddle her hard.

But if he thought she wasn't doing her star jumps and leaps and
bends properly enough, he would take the paddle to her as well.

Made her head spin, trying to get it all right for him.

To be his special girl.

After the shock when she put them on, which was bad enough, the
throbbing just got worse and worse, and the two clips on her
labia bit in deep every time she stretched. Then one of the
glittery pink ones started to slip but she couldn't get to it in
time and it clattered across the floorboards.

Kristin cried out in despair.

She scampered over and was bending to retrieve it when he grabbed
her wrist and tugged her roughly to the bed.

"Sorry, Sir," she attempted to say but he was spinning her round
and holding the back of her neck and pushing her head down on to
the mattress.

As if it were taking place in slow motion, Kristin heard the
paddle cut through the air, then heard the dull thwack as it
landed. She was angry with herself for her mistake but her
thought was instantly replaced with pain. Not unbearable at
first, but Gramps had hit exactly over the tender patch where he
had used the hairbrush before, and the skin was raw and began
smarting immediately. After ten strokes, when he pushed her away
and she crumpled on the floor, her ass felt like it was being
prodded with shards of glass and she had fallen such that she was
lying on the clips on he pussy and they too bore into the
tenderest of flesh and broke her resistance.

She crumpled into a fit of self-pitying crying.

She would probably have lain there, curled up and heaving with
sorrowful tears, had he not picked her up and held her to him.

"Put the grip back on, you lazy little cunt, and do the rest of
your routines," he snarled.

Gramps was so convincing. It was like he really was cross. He
passed her the hairclip and sobbing, she bit her lips and
released it over her poor sore little nipple.

It was all right again after she had finished. He wasn't cross no
more.

Curled up tight in his lap, the clips removed and her tears
slowly ebbing away, she put her arms round his neck and hugged
him as tight as she could.

She hurt all over but the nasty stuff was over and Gramps held
her and stroked her shoulders and back and hair and her heart
wasn't bumping so fast now and he was drying her tears and then
he kissed her on the lips.

Which was what she had been waiting for.

"Such a special girl, you are, Kristin," he whispered, cradling
the back of her head and as her lips softened against his, his
tongue brushed lightly against them and they parted and it
slipped between her teeth. He rolled her back on to the bed,
embracing her, his mouth pressed to hers, and her clear green
eyes opened briefly, no longer filled with tears, but sparkling
shyly with total joy.

Gramps's kisses made her all better. Kissed away the gnawing ache
in her nipples and made them tight and hard. And caressed her
pussy, bit by bit dampening the soreness and tickling out the
moisture from her vagina and making her clit feel very tingly.

He indulged her.

Her shallow breathing and the contented playing of her little
fingers against his back; the bashful half-smile of guilty joy
when he winked and his mouth roved over her sweet young body.
Watching her delight as he held and kissed her, he had to
concentrate to remember that she still had one last ordeal to
face.

This was going to be something he had been looking forward to all
day.

Earlier, he had been prowling around the kitchen, hunting for a
snack, when the inspiration hit him. It was great idea - he so
hoped it would work, for there were a few variations he fancied
trying in a week or two, as he stepped up her training towards
Thanksgiving. She surely had to fetch a good price, better even
than the youngest Carter girl back in April. She had fetched five
figures, rumor had it.

Christ!

They would be fighting over her: two months short of her eleventh
birthday, trained to be willing and obedient. And with her sweet
little cherry intact and ripe for plucking. There had to be
several high rollers in this County who would dig deep in their
pockets for her company that weekend. And a good, steady income
stream afterwards, when he left her at the Lodge at weekends.

"Smaller, girl!" he barked.

Kristin shuffled her knees even tighter into her chest and pulled
her head in as close as possible, forming the smallest little
girl ball she could. The line of her spine curled deliciously
down her tiny body. All the way down to the glowing red of her
tormented ass.

In the Lodge, the girls were expected to adopt this position,
huddling in the corner of a room, facing outwards, whenever they
were not required by any of the Members. Or being punished in The
Den.

Gramps prodded her with his toe.

"Lift your ass up; pull it open. Show me."

She did as she was told, her stubby fingers clawing aside her
tender buttocks, to expose the tiny dark crater that was her
anus.

"Wider!"

Her fingers scrabbled to pull at the skin and stretch the hole.

Oh yes, this should end the session on a high!

He let her stay like that for a while, so as he could get it
ready. He had thought he might just do it as she was, crouched on
the floor, but if it gave the reaction he was hoping for, it
would be better to immobilize her.

Just in case.

"Right. Get yourself up on that bed, foot end, facing me, with
your head over the frame of the bed, your sweet little ass in the
air and your hands on top of the metal."

Kristin was rightly wary, but she scampered up and positioned
herself as he had ordered. He took each wrist and moved it out
towards the bedpost, and used the short lengths of cord to bind
her down to the top of the bed frame. She watched him extract the
spreader bar from the closet - she was already very familiar with
its purpose - and even helped by moving her feet further apart.A
gesture that pleased him greatly. The kid was well on the way to
being trained.

Her long dark tresses fell over her face and though she tried to
shake them aside, he had to gather her hair and smooth it each
side of her head. Her big green eyes twinkled up at him, even now
still rimmed red from her tears, but set against the fine black
line of her eyebrows, and the curl of her lashes, still so sexily
naive and vulnerable. He bunched the hair in his fist, behind her
head and pulled so that she had to raise her chin. Her cheeks
were soft and flushed and a frown of discomfort disfigured her
smooth brow.

He kissed her mouth.

With his other hand, he reached down and pushed his undershorts
down his legs. His hard cock sprang loose, the tip purple and
slick with pre-cum.

The girl chewed her lip nervously.

"Well?" he prompted.

"Sir," she began, preparing to repeat the words she had had to
learn.

"Sir, please may I pleasure you with my lips?"

Gramps smiled. He had never gone along with some of the dumbest
of the Lodge rules for the Hostettes, and it specially didn't
sound right, being spoken by his little granddaughter. But she
had to be trained their way, so he had no choice.

They were a lot of pretentious fucking idiots, those guys in the
Lodge.

He guided his dick to her expectant mouth, where her obedient
tongue flickered over the tip. This was one natural skill she
seemed to have inherited and she was every bit as adept as her
mother. He felt her mouth close gently about the bell end, and
the warmth of her saliva bathing his raging erection.

The girl's head bobbed up and down.

"Oh yeah, that's it baby," he mouthed.

Though the Special Hour was only on schooldays, he carefully
engineered her itinerary on Sunday mornings so that on their way
back from church, he had a few minutes alone with her in the
truck and though little could improve on the sheer ecstasy of
having his dick sucked so well by the little girl, having it done
whilst he was parked on Main Street, nodding greetings to
unknowing folks going by, was most definitely something else!

Christ, he wanted to let her finish. To fill her little mouth,
but not yet. Reluctantly he withdrew.

There was that one last thing he wanted to do. To round off the
week's training. Trying out his moment of inspiration.

He liked the using the vibrator on her. Mail order and worth the
investment. Top of the range, with different heads and he had
made another couple of his own.

Of course he would much have preferred to be using his dick in
her little holes, but that would have to wait until she had begun
at the Lodge and lost her cherry for a good price. Gramps was
looking forward to December. Been a long time since he had been
able to fuck a little bald pussy whenever it took his fancy. He
grinned to himself: OK so he weren't a high flyer, a member of
the inner circle who had access to the Den and the girls, but
neither did he have to pay hundreds to spank or fuck one, because
he would have her for free during the rest of the week.

He removed the small plastic cylinder from the carton and
selected one of the smallest attachments - a garish purple
cock-head, about half the size of his own.

Glancing over to her, he saw Kristin watching, her face blank and
pale as she fretted over what he was preparing for her. He moved,
so that she would not see him open the bottle of olive oil and
with the aid of a paper napkin, wipe a generous coat of oil over
the purple silicone. The label read 'Extra Virgin Olive Oil with
Rosemary and Hot Red Chilli'.

This should be interesting, he thought.

There was sufficient room for him to sit on the mattress directly
behind her. With her arms held down against the top rail of the
bed frame, the girl's ass was raised up, and the spreader bar
ensured he had easy access to it.

Though she was expecting it, the first touch of her grandfather's
finger on her tight little anus still made her start. As usual,
it was wet with his spit and with only a firm pressure, began to
slide inside.

She trusted Gramps implicitly and if he wanted to put his finger
up her ass, then it had to be right.

He worked her briefly and silently. Not that she had any choice,
but Kristin was little fazed by this - Gramps often did it in
there and it weren't so bad. A lot nicer than being hit, for
sure.

Oh God! He was going to do the thing in there as well! She
tensed.

She felt a shiver when the vibrator started up. It felt very
funny but she didn't mind that going in her ass either, truth be
told. He said she was very grown up when she had the thing in
there.

Special.

Slick with oil, the small tip of the vibrator passed easily
through the semi-relaxed sphincter and Gramps inched it carefully
up into her rectum.

She closed her eyes and slumped forward on the bed frame. Like
always, the feeling when the jiggly thing went in was so weird,
as if her legs were suddenly made of Jell-O, and for a moment,
her insides felt just like she needed to pee.

But this time, the sensation was much stronger. Her eyes popped
wide in surprise: there was this great stinging feel in her ass.
God -not just the jiggly feeling, or even the scary one, like her
insides were going to burst. This was new. And Jeez - painful!
And it was just getting worse and worse.

She could not stop herself: the stinging was overwhelming, like
somebody had lit a fire inside her, a concentration of burning,
wave after wave, each stronger than the last. More and more as
the jiggly vibrator slipped out and pushed back into her anus.

"Ooooowwwwwww!" she squealed.

Gramps landed a firm slap on her already sore buttock.

"Hush!" he admonished, and through the constant sharp stinging,
she could feel the thickness of the vibrator sink deeper into
her, until Gramps' hand was touching her buttocks.

"Oh please Gramps!!" she yelled, "take it out, its hurting too
much!"

He held it steady, but had to shift and wrap his arm around her
waist to keep her still, as her body was writhing around so
wildly. She grunted and moaned and was panting noisily through
her nose.

"Shut the fuck up, girl, or I'll take the whip to you," he
growled.

Kristin was wailing, shaking her head from side to side, as the
unrelenting fire inside her raged. The more she flailed around,
tied as she was, the worse it seemed to be, and all the time the
vibrating rubber dick kept sliding in and out of her, spreading
the oil over her most sensitive membranes, and coating her anus
with warm, scented oil each time it penetrated her. The vibrator
slipped so easily inside, but instead of making this a
comfortable, pleasurable experience, the oil was of course simply
ensuring that every part of her was subjected to the intense,
relentless burn of the chilli extract it contained.

Gramps struggled to hold her, so much was her ass bucking about.
Kristin was so very small, but the fire in her rectum and anus
was so strong that it possessed her. Her tiny body snapped to and
fro, wrenching against the cords; she threw her head back and
screeched, saliva dribbling from the side of her mouth, her face
sweaty and red, her eyes wet and wild.

He gave up, leaving the vibrator embedded in her, but it was
expelled within seconds from her heaving little body.

The oil had been a triumph all right.

He stood aside for a few seconds, simply observing with excited
satisfaction the astounding effect it had on her. His cock
swelled to even greater proportions and right now he knew he had
to relieve the pressure at last.

Moving around to her head, he stood directly in front of her,
with his erect penis almost right in her screwed-up cute young
face.

Her eyes briefly met his: strained, tearful, bewildered and
pleading. Fuck, she was a beautiful little girl - them doctors
and lawyers and bigshots and politicians would be falling over
themselves to use and abuse her in the Den! So this was damn good
practice for the kid!

Groaning uncontrollably, she made anguished squeaking noises each
time another sharp pang shot up from her ass. He placed his hands
on each side of her head, to keep it still.

"Let it hurt, girl. Get used to it."

She whimpered something but he could not make it out. He lifted
her head.

"Suck it good, girl," he ordered.

She flashed a look of despair.

"And make sure you swallow it all, you little dirty cunt!" he
grunted, playing his part.

He used her hair to hold her head steady, coiling it around his
fingers, pressing his hands over her scalp. Her face was red,
sweaty, and her cheeks and chin were wet with spit and tears. She
was shaking and was fighting the pain to part her lips and place
them softly around the shiny tip of Gramps' dick.

The girl had spirit.

Her eyes squeezed tight shut in concentration (she so wanted to
be good for him, to be as good as he said Mommy had been). But
even so, as she washed her little tongue over him and slipped her
lips down the shaft, she could not prevent the occasional whimper
of pain escaping through her nose.

Gramps looked down at her. Her agonized young face, deep-flushed,
and her perfect little mouth encircling his cock, and her skinny
body, all pale and bony, curled up and bobbing about. So trusting
and willing. Oh yeah, she would have no shortage of men wanting
her each Saturday.

"OK, Slut. Get ready."

Her lips, tongue and roof of her mouth formed a perfect hollow,
and with a few short strokes, he exploded a thick stream of cum,
spraying to the very back of her throat. Anxiously she swallowed
hard, desperately keen to show him she could, and not let any of
his precious jism be wasted. He had always told her it was a
measure of how good she was, the amount of cum she ate and she
innocently believed him quite literally.

His cock pulsed and spat his remaining semen into her waiting
mouth.

Spent, he stood back and waited for her to open her mouth for
him. Just like she had been instructed, Kristin had kept back a
goodly mouthful, so that she could give him a wide, open-mouthed
smile of gratitude, and see for himself the sticky strands of
gloop adhering to her tongue and teeth.

"Well done, Slut," he praised her with genuine appreciation.

For she truly had done well, especially for such a young girl,
coping with so much pain yet still performing a most satisfactory
blow job.

This Special Hour had been the best yet!

"Good girl, Kristin, I'm so proud of you" grinned Gramps,
watching her walk slowly, and very stiffly, along the landing,
clutching her clothes. Her ass looked so cute, blushed a deep
pink, with only a few small, red weals swollen up where he had
caught her with the edge of the paddle. He could see her trying
to clench her buttocks as she shuffled along and wondered how
long she would feel the effects of the chilli extract inside her.

A long, thin trickle of olive oil glistened down the inside of
her left thigh, from her crotch to her knee.

"Go on, be quick. Get in the tub before your Grandma gets back!"

And at that moment, he heard the latch and scurried downstairs.

He followed his wife into the kitchen.

She looked tired.

Standing at the sink, she ran the water, filling a pan. He sat at
the table, watching. "How is she doing?" she asked, closing the
faucet. "You try that hairbrush on her, like I said?"

"Oh yep. Worked real good," he replied with a smirk, "real good.
Don't you worry. She'll be plenty ready by Thanksgiving."

Kristin's Grandma wheeled around and her expression softened. She
put down the pan and went over to the dresser. Her fingers
touched the brochure, playing across the airbrushed image of a
sun-drenched resort somewhere in Marion County.
Gramps raised his eyebrows in surprise. Not often these days he
saw his wife actually smile.

Special!