This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any existing people or events is coincidental. If a story involving sexual contact with minors bothers you or is illegal where you live, stop reading now.

Inevitable - Part Four

"Masturbate for me, Anna."

My young charge was lying atop the blankets on her bed, arms at her sides, knees akimbo. I hadn't yet allowed her any clothing. I sat beside her, gently tracing lines over her flat chest and tummy, watching the skin tighten into tiny goosebumps under each finger, savoring the diminutive and delightful wiggles this evoked in her lithe body.

"I don't know what that means." The rapidly deepening glow on her cheeks belied her.

"I think you do. You're smarter than that. It won't help you to pretend ignorance with me."

She turned her face to the wall. "It's dirty."

"It's not. It's the most natural thing. Ignorant people have tried to make you believe it's dirty. You'll do it for me, openly, until you can do it completely without shame."

"I never did it before." She was a relentless negotiator, facile with her string of protests. In this instance, I chose patience.

"Perhaps that's true. But you've been touched in that way, haven't you? Mommy's boyfriend, in his lap. Our time together yesterday. You know what feels nice. We've talked about your anatomy. Let's see you apply what you've learned. Your goal is to know your body, to understand what pleases you."

"So you can have sex with me?"

"So that when we have sex, you'll experience the proper joy of it."

"I don't want to."

"You don't want to feel good?"

"I don't want you to make me. Or watch me."

My patience does have limits. "Yet you will masturbate, and I will watch you. A girl's self-discovery is a profoundly beautiful thing. It's one of my most favorite things to watch, Anna. We're done discussing this now. Are you ready to make your choice?"

"I... miss my M-mom." Her chest heaved, the sob she'd been suppressing finally welling up and spilling out.

I touched her hair. "Of course you do, Anna. I understand. Your situation is a sad one, child. I can only hope that you'll come to focus on how much worse it could be, and resolve to make the best of it."

I saw her deep expression of sadness as a seminal moment. It was good for her to let her tears flow. Letting go takes time. I was pleased that she'd already become inured enough to her nudity to show her feelings despite her exposed state. Perhaps the two were related, and she was understanding that she'd not be allowed to hide anything. I gave her a moment to collect herself.

"She said it was bad... that only... n-nasty girls do that..."

"That would imply that she'd seen you doing it, Anna. She saw you and was telling you to stop. Am I right?"

More staring at the wall. "I was just... itching."

"Yes. Scratching an itch." I suspect the double entendre was lost on her, but I chuckled to myself. "I understand. But she made you ashamed. That's so sad. Perhaps I can help."

I propped the Kindle up on her tummy and navigated to a folder with my finger. I'd equipped the reader with a small selection of content that I thought might be of assistance in Anna's adaptation. I tapped a thumbnail and adjusted the volume. The flickering screen drew Anna's gaze back from the wall.

The video was an early scene with Miranda. Even at 10, she was quite recognizable as the girl in the Yale graduation photo on the wall, the same dark brunette with bright green eyes. Anna blinked at the similarity of the image to our current situation. The girl was naked and prone on the bed, me sitting beside her. It could almost have been a video feed of the present. I'd saved it for just such an occasion as this.

"Masturbate for me, Miranda."
Miranda smiled softly and averted her gaze for just a moment before parting her legs and slipping a small hand between them. Her fingers moved slowly at first. My hand touched her hair.
"Eyes on mine, sweetheart. I want to see your pleasure."
Miranda looked up at me, cheeks pink. Her bottom moved slightly.
"There we are. You're so lovely when you're aroused, princess."

The sight had made me erect at the time and it still had that effect whenever I revisited the memory. Miranda was smart as a whip and had adjusted quite quickly. The video was quiet for a time before the girl's soft whimpers became audible.

"That's it. Don't hold back. Savor the feelings. Let them consume you and fill you."
Miranda nodded. Her back arched a tiny bit, her breath catching.
"Do you remember when you first came to me, Miranda?"
She nodded wordlessly.
"You didn't want to do this, did you?"
She shook her head, now panting, her mouth barely parted.
"What would you tell yourself, if you could go back to that time? What would you say to that shy, frightened girl who had just arrived?"
Her lithe frame stiffened. "To... to get over it... to just... do it... cuz it's... ohhhhhh god... it's... so... uuuuhhhhhhhh... fucking... good..."

Her hips twisted deliciously in the video frame as she climaxed. I stopped the video when Miranda's spasms had subsidded. We'd save the rest of that scene for a later time.

"You see how it can be, Anna. When Miranda arrived she'd had lots of sex but it had all been horrible. She was grotestquely misused for much of her life. She'd never experienced the joy that her body could bring. Sex only terrified and repulsed her. But once she'd discovered the truth of it, she was forever changed."

I took Anna's hand and guided it to her utterly smooth sex. She tensed at first.

"Eyes on mine, Anna." It wasn't said as a suggestion. She was beginning to recognize and respond to the tone of my voice. She met my look unsteadily, her focus darting. I guided her slender fingers for a few moments. There was warmth and only the slightest hint of thin slickness. When I felt her mons rise to press against our mingled digits, I took my hand away.

"Now you. You know how. Don't let the feelings scare you. They're natural. Your cunt wants this. Your entire body wants it. And your spirit needs it. It just hasn't woken to the knowledge yet."

The process was awkward and slow but still compelling in its own way. She glared when I gave her verbal direction but her face softened as she applied my guidance and felt its effect. Her nipples proved to be highly sensitive, as her pace quickened notably when I pinched and tugged at them. As they distended under my touch, her face seemed angry at her body's visible betrayal.

"What did he say to you, Anna? Mommy's boyfriend. What did he say when you were in his lap, his lips at your ear?"

She shook her head. A refusal, not a denial.

"It felt good to tell me about him, didn't it?"

Another shake of the head, less certain.

"Tell me." I saw her fingers pause. "Don't stop. Just tell."

Her childish hand returned to motion. She broke eye contact. I allowed it.

"He said... he said I was p-pretty."

"You liked that, of course. You are pretty, Anna. You're inspiringly lovely, in fact. Especially just now."

"He said I was p-prettier than... M-mommy..."

"Yes. I expect that's entirely true. Perhaps this man is a bit like me in that way, entralled by youth. When he said these things to you, and you were in his lap, and he was holding you, and he slipped his hand into your underpants... it was already warm, I think. Your cunt. It was already warm for him, because you'd been imagining it. You'd been remembering how it felt when he touched you there. As much as you wanted to hate it, knew that you should hate it, you couldn't deny the feelings."

She returned her gaze to me, her face almost defiant, her breath now ragged from some strange mix of arousal and shame.

"I couldn't help it. I couldn't... I didn't... I..."

I bent and kissed her cheek. "I know, little one. I know. It's okay. I understand. Let yourself feel it. It's not bad. It's what we're made for. If there is a God, he gave us this as a gift. It's only stupid, angry people who want to make it bad."

Finally there was a deep but subtle tremble... her eyes unfocused... legs taut... a push up with her bottom... her toes curled. When the tremors ebbed, I bundled her tiny form into my arms and let her cry for a good long while.


Should the story continue? I'd love to hear your feedback. You can contact me at joshua.woode@hushmail.com
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