A Fly on the Wall.

by Ganymede

A Fly on the Wall is the story of Savannah Martin, a ten-year-old fashion model, and the journey to change gender. With surgery in Mexico depending on meeting certain conditions, the responsibility falls on Grampa.

< < < Savannah is nine years, five months, and 13 days old > > >

Energizer Bunny within moments of waking up, all of nine and a half years old, wriggling back to feel Grampa spooning, breathing steadily, reassuring. His hand was on her flank, caressing, hot and silky under the bed covers, yawning, remembering, happy as a gamboling calf in clover.

After a while, Savannah rolled over, smirking up at Grampa.

“You’re looking very happy this morning,” he whispered, stroking defiant curls from her forehead.

“Uh huh.”

She snuggled up to him, sleek and lithe as a Burmese cat, her taut little torso pressed into his big hairy belly. Still smirking, she craned her head back to see his face. When he smiled, she reached up and rubbed the tip of his nose. Sex kitten or playful puppy, licking her lips teasingly.

“Do you want to be my Grampa blankie?” she asked in a shivery life-changing whisper.

‘What’s a Grampa blankie?”

Suddenly shy, she clamped her lips shut, making her silly now-the-cat-is-out-of-the-bag face.

“Tell me or else.” Another yawn escaped before he tickled her smooth warm flank, tempted, mere inches from torturing ribs.

“I want you on top of me,” she whispered.

No sooner than it was out, the urge rose up, stronger than ever, so easy now that Savannah knew what she wanted. Still, he wavered. He told himself the last thing she needed was for him to dominate her. He wasn’t alpha-male-XL, definitely no hardcore cowboy, not like most Arizona ranchers; however, his morning erection didn’t help. It was ready to go into action.

“I’m afraid you’ll get squashed under my big ole belly.”

She giggled, little fingers fiddling with chest hair. “I’m tougher than I look.”

“Not funny; you’ll be flattened like a roadkill rabbit, kiddo.”

“You know you want to, Grampa.” Fingers crept down his belly and flipped at his erect penis. “The only thing getting squashed will be this bad boy when he goes in my butt.”

“Be gentle, wretch.”

Little fingers stroked lightly, grasping and squeezing, no Grampa groans until she realized what he wanted.

“He’s big because you have to go pee, huh?” she murmured, teasing, right on the tip.

“Uh huh. He’s also big because of you.”

She rubbed her index finger in the glans’ groove, a lavender-glitter fingernail scraping nerves in abundance until he finally sighed. With his hand covering most of her butt and drawing them closer, it was obvious he’d staked his claim. Even then, he held them together, keeping her scratching at his most sensitive place.

Frank sighed again. “Seems I love you a tad more than I thought.”

He closed his eyes, dreamily absorbing sensations down there. Most likely, Savannah knew what to do from her gay friends; he didn’t care. A confident hand held his shaft, fingers busy fondling his swollen glans and frenulum, little fingertip poking at his meatus.

“I didn’t think it was possible to feel like this at my age. You must think I’m a crazy old goat.”

She looked at him side on, watching his chest rise and fall, oddly exhilarated, not from stroking, making him happy, wondering what came next. He squished a rubbery buttock, adult fingers sliding in the little furrow, digging in ever so slightly, finding the flexible pull-ring barely protruding. All around it was hot and moist, stretchy too. It was a miracle, as far as Grampa was concerned. He knew he should feel guilty; he didn’t.

“What’s done is done and can ever be undone.” Frank brutalized Lady Macbeth.

“Huh?”

“’… Give me your hand. What's done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed.’”

“We’re in bed already, Grampa.”

“Reckon I’m quotin’ Shakespeare, my little chickadee.” Gruff rancher voice made her smile. “What I’m trying to say is everything’s changed now my cum is inside you.”

“I wanted you to go in, Grampa.”

Her smug expression and self-assurance surprised him, not her admission. She needed him as much he needed her, not only to take charge of her sexual enlightenment and to guide her every movement, to become part of her. When that happened, she had no idea, only that what followed was exactly what she wanted.

Less cautious than he’d been up to then, he manipulated the silicone protrusion, bumping , tugging, even twisting. He couldn’t tell if it was D-3 or D-4. They’d been joking about trying the next size up during night-playtime. Both of them were half-asleep when he switched from two fingers to inserting the massive D-5; just ‘the tip to see if it fit.’ It fit, though not as easily as he’d hoped. She clung to him as another inch penetrated. With the next inch, she needing him to be so close that he completely enveloped her body. No grampa hug was like that, so intense that she might become part of him.

Now, he rubbed around and around, trying to remember if he’d reinserted her D-3 before he fell asleep. Or D-4; it was awfully big, not the end of the world if it stayed in overnight.

“It feels kinda different back there.”

Not just the ring, it displaced something, making a bump where there shouldn’t have been one. Heaven forbid, he’d left in D-5. Karen would be furious if she found out he was ahead of schedule.

“It’s the big one, Grampa,” Savannah murmured, Grampa-blankie over and done.

“Oh my God! I’m sorry. I must’ve fallen asleep.”

“Silly! I put it in instead of the third one. I had to poop really bad in the middle of the night. All your stuff came out; well a lot of it did.”

If it bothered her, there was no sign of it first thing in the morning. Her open acceptance fascinated him, yet entirely expected if he thought about it. It was as normal as her tender anus nibbling impulsively, even hungrily. It was so persistent, he began to think it was trying to draw his finger inside. The opening was elastic, resilient, too; definitely not loose.

“Kinda messy in the ole hiney, huh?” He kept feeling the flexible ring just inside. All around was sweaty hot, strangely reassuring.

“It felt nice in my butt last night, but.”

Somehow, Frank avoided smiling at nine-year-old syntax. “That last but’s not necessary. And yes, it was nice last night, real nice.”

“Grampa, sometimes I worry about you.”

He gave in and smiled, nuzzling her hair.

“Why?”

“This is not the time for language class.”

He smiled and circled the target. If there was a pucker, he couldn’t feel feel it, just smooth slippery flesh opening into her. Tempted, he pushed through, retreated, circled some more, levered down, and up, then back inside until his fingertip encountered the ring. He jiggled it gently.

Her soft sighs were more reassuring than ever before, erratic and urgent, not whimpers. He enjoyed every eager murmur, as much as feeling the little hard penis jabbing at his crotch, his huge erection oozing slime all over her belly.

Lust engorged, throbbing urgently, wanting to fondle the junior version more than he could stand; only his promise to Karen kept him from grasping Savannah’s boyhood, hot, squat unyielding.

“What happened to my Teddy Boy?” he murmured.

Savannah was an energetic toddler, decidedly effeminate, not meek, anything but passive when it came to bath time. ‘Teddy Boy’ made him get in the tub so they could pretend their penises were rambunctious teddy bears who could talk to rubber ducks.

“That would be Teddy *Girl*, Grampa.”

Not grumpy about it because she giggled, squirming against his erection, deliberately increasing the pressure.

“You need some cream in there?”

The app said a little tenderness around her anus was normal with D-4 and D-5; that’s what the analgesic cream was for. It became uncomfortable only when she squeezed on it.

“It’s been in a long while,” he added, pointing out the obvious.

She was happy, relaxed, and holding his big hard penis, little thumb busily smearing preseminal fluid, not understanding why he brought ‘Teddy Boy’ up—she’d forgotten everything but the name.

“You want to take it out, Grampa?”

“I probably should. For morning playtime,” he added self-consciously

Unable to stop himself, he allowed his hand to stray from her luscious little bottom, gliding reassuringly over her hip and firm lower belly. He encountered unyielding stiffness, his fingers extended and barely touching. Not a word, not even a breath. He encircled her ‘boy thing,’ fingertips fondling the precious cargo underneath.

“Grampa?” A faint nervous whisper, not a rebuke, uncertain.

“It’s not fair, Sanny. I want to make you feel good, too.”

He stroked as gently as he could with rough rancher hands, concentrating on tiny nine-and-a-half-year-old testicles, tight in a silky-soft scrotum. It was nothing like his, so delicate that it got him thinking what a terrible waste it would be to turn it into a ‘vulva.’ Nothing left to play with, just flabby mounds either side of her ‘boy-thing,’ until even that was turned inside out and stuffed inside her, out of sight, out of mind.

His thumb and first finger replicated hers, squishing an exposed swollen tip, a perfect little helmet. Arousal was instantaneous, mere seconds. He felt the change, stiffening, jerking with each unconscious flexing of juvenile groin muscles. Some jolts were so strong he was certain Savannah was helping.

“You’re making me feel all tingly inside, Grampa.”

Her eyes were bright, not accusing, ready and willing to do anything he wanted.

“You’re making me hot, too, Sanny,” he whispered.

He titillated the miniature groove, exciting a quiver, his thumbnail scratching delicate frenulum, one foot clumsily pulling back the covers until they were exposed down there. Savannah made the obvious comparison, her tiny hand and his huge hairy penis, his big hand and her ‘boy-thing.’

“You’re not s’posed to play with it, Grampa.”

Not angry, not adamant, Fashion Brat asserting herself, very aware both man and boy versions were rigidly erect.

Uncertain of what was going through her head, he restrained himself. With a solitary finger pressing into a wrinkled little scrotum, he gawked at her bare belly, and lower, at a stiff short penis. Despite shimmering curly hair down her back, lipstick, and eyeshadow, that part of her was persistently ‘boy.’

“We’re doing it again; what we did in the bathtub, right Grampa?”

He hesitated to say what he was thinking. “If you want to, then yeah. Only you have to say what you want.”

“I want your cum in my bum before we get up.”

Stunned at precocious bluntness, somehow Frank avoided laughing. “I want my cum in your bum, too, only we’ll probably miss breakfast. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

She play-thumped his shoulder.

“Remember what I said last night, Sanny? There’s lots of things we can do besides squirt my cum in your rear.”

He covered her boy-thing’ with two fingers, a hint for her to pick up on, if she wanted. She tightened her grip on his penis, midway, too big to join fingers and thumb tip, nudging his chin with the top of her head, and burrowing in, Savannah-style snuggling.

Dreamily, Frank inhaled orange blossom shampoo—it always made his grandkid smell fresh and sweet, and outdoorsy. Karen would’ve said he was doting, again; however, he was glad he’d made the two-mile trip in the car to buy it. It was either that, with Sonoran-fare of cactus fries and menudo at Southwest Grill; or order a pizza and use motel shampoo. The little bottle in the bathroom had ‘beach mist’ scent on the label, whatever that was.

“You smell good,” he whispered in her ear.

She giggled back at him, small and smooth, so warm and alive beside him. He stroked a sleek thigh.

“You’re so sexy, you make me want to lick you all over.”

“Ick! Seriously, you want to lick me?”

“Lick, kiss, suck; it’s all the same. Everywhere, Sanny; including this.”

Purposefully, he stroked her ‘boy-thing,’ scintillating and slow from hairless pubis to swollen helmet, very gently, as if the stubby hot organ was the most precious thing in the world. It was still unyielding.

“Why that?”

“Because I want to love all of you.” He sighed inwardly. “It won’t look the same after the operation, but most of it will still be part of you. Same skin, same nerves, same feelings.”

She thought about it. “You can if you want, Grampa.”

Of course, Savannah agreed only to please him. Most of all, he admired her pluck; accepting natal genitals as a source of pleasure was an enormous step for a transgender kid.

Frank sat up, leaning over her, poking out his tongue, waggling it teasingly until she poked out hers. He gob-smacked her with an unexpected sloppy mishmash of tongues and lips. Having initiated the promised sucking, licking, and kissing, he couldn’t stop. It went on and on, from mouth to face, to her slender smooth neck, shoulders and chest. Bathed in saliva down to her tummy, he stopped barely inches away.

“Dang, that’s one excited ‘boy-thang,’” he drawled.

“You’re not allowed to draw attention to it.”

“Kinda hard not to too, Sanny. You got a bone inside that thing?

Savannah grinned, golden curls spread across the crisp motel pillow. He felt her trembling, arousal growing stronger the closer he came to his destination. Unable to leave her alone, his hand pawed her bottom, kneading gluteus muscle until he encountered resilient silicone bulging just beyond her anus. D-5 was golf-ball thick, embedded up to the end of the ring, deforming, stretching, rearranging internal organs. At 7-1/2” long and 1-3/4” wide, it would change her forever.

“Does it hurt?”

“It did when I put it in. Now, it’s just a little bit sore if I squeeze down.”

‘Sore’ was a reminder, a precursor of what would happen in a few days. Only giving his word to Karen stood in the way of it happening sooner.

“You’re sure?”

“Mostly, feels really big.” She wavered, contemplating, not undecided. “Grampa, I bet you could put him in me right now if you wanted.”

Surprised, but not unexpected; he could tell a lot from Savannah’s prurient voice. She’d always been ready for sex play, seeming preprogramed for anything involving genitalia, both his and hers.

“I think I’d need to take this out first,” he chuckled.

He gave the ring a playful nudge, depressing it, almost completely inside until Savannah pushed it back. He pushed it inward, poking his fingertip into her anus.

“You want it out?” he whispered.

“Uh uh.”

Frank adopted the time-honored position, his knees straddling her shoulders, hovering like a randy bull over a heifer in estrus, his right hand roaming her chest, pinching tiny nipples into pinpricks, sliding onto her taut little belly. He stopped to pay homage, leaning down so close to her ‘boy-thing’ he was certain he could feel it throbbing without making contact. With his mouth wide open, he took everything in.

“Oooh, Grampa.”

He swiveled as far as he could to look back at her and still maintain contact, meeting startled eyes, mouth gaping, both little hands frantic, clutching his shoulder. Incredulous, a bit dubious, disconcerting, yet enjoying every moment.

“Grampa…”

Breathy voice. Despised ‘boy-thing’ bouncing off the roof of his mouth, tiny testicles trapped between his teeth and tongue, sucking her entire scrotum between his lips, a finger restraining the silicone plug jammed in her quaking hot rectum.

He backed off, gulping saliva. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

She gave a distracted nod, her inner muscles cramping, her entire body responding to the glowing throbs in her ‘boy-thing.’

“Push down, Sweetie. We’re going to take it out, not all the way, only a little. I want to try something.”

Uncertain, yet following instinct, he slipped his index finger through the silicone ring as soon as it appeared. Very carefully, he rotated his hand, twisting the way the T-G app recommended to withdraw D-5 . The widest half of the curved pink shaft slowly appeared. Stunned at how hot and slippery it was, it filled his hand the same as his own erect penis.

With a nervous giggle, Savannah murmured something. He was certain it included ‘hurts,’ however, he was too agitated, too overcome, too tense to care.

“You want my cock, don’t you?” he breathed. “Don’t worry; you’ll have it up your butt soon enough.”

Grasping the shaft, he prodded the pleasure button just beyond her sphincter muscle, under her bladder. He expected a whimper; instead, she squeezed down to increase the pressure. A few moments later, her slender thighs moved farther apart. It was the incentive Frank needed. Rubbing D-5 vigorously right on top of the immature sex gland, strumming faster and harder as she strained, simultaneously sucking everything ‘male.’ She jerked too soon for a proper orgasm, a tightening spasm, ample to begin, slowly relaxing, now breathing erratically.

Unable to smile with his mouth full, Frank lifted up, took a deep breath, and smeared spit with his fingers.

“You want more, you need to say so,” he said quietly, reestablishing what he thought was a good rule to have.

“Say what?” She was breathless, staring at his middle, little buttocks clenching around the massive D-5 wedged halfway.

“Just tell me what you want me to do. Like, ‘I want you to suck it.’”

“Suck it, Grampa.”

He didn’t expect reciprocity. It happened quickly, mere seconds for her to point his erect penis at her face and position her mouth. His heart thundered at imminent intimacy. A long wet kiss on his inflamed bulging knob, a playful lick at the end; it completely took his mind off what he was supposed to be doing.

After the shock dissipated, Frank sucked her ‘boy-thing’ very gently. He focused on the exposed tip, lips gripping being the glans, tongue swirling, flicking back and forth. Suddenly, she twitched and pulled away. Not wanting to upset her, he resorted to teasing the tender short shaft with long languorous licks.

When she didn’t complain, he wobbled the silicone plug, surprised that it was able to move that much—definitely getting bigger inside. The T-G app said elasticizing the anus was just as important, going in and out repetitively to achieve dilation without permanent loosening. He allowed a few inches to slide through, until it was about to pop out. Only the tip bulged into her anus. He pushed it through, pulled it back. Back and forth, suctioning juices into a squelchy mess.

She made her ‘gross and disgusting’ face for him. It would’ve ended it right there, except she giggled.

“You like it, huh?” he murmured.

“What’s not to like,” she said breathily.

This time, she took his penis inside her mouth, the head and an inch of shaft, enough that her cheek bulged.

“Because I’m doing it to you doesn’t mean you have to do it to me,” he muttered.

“I don’t mind doing it.”

She stuck out her tongue and licked again, no tentative swipe, a deliberate slurp and a lip-smack. A longer, wetter kiss followed. Then, a sloppy lick with a modicum of suction, using her lips on the tip.

“Tastes slimy, Grampa.”

“Let me wipe it off.” He used the sheet to dab at the oozing head.

Predisposed, her head inclined, little pink tongue eagerly wetting her lips. Precocious brain churning, curious eyes wide, excited tingles all over; she smirked back at him.

“How long before he shoots?”

“I’ll tell you before it goes in your mouth.” As much as he wanted to ejaculate between her lips, it was too soon.

“Since when will having cum in my mouth hurt me?”

“I reckon you heard that from Mickey?”

“She said you’d probably like it. Mom said it was okay to do it, but only if I want to.” She hesitated. “The kids at school talk about sucking cock all the time.”

“I think maybe we should get up, Sanny,” Frank said, guilt barreling down on him like an 18-wheeler on I-10, headed into Tucson.

“Now, why are mad at me, Grampa?”