"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.

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