Pet: The Prelude

Patricia Maria Summers - I repeat those magical words like a litany when I am alone at night. Rarely does it happen that I am alone, and even rarer are those occasions when I am alone and conscious. But in those few moments of lucid solitude I remind myself of who I am, rather who I was.

Nobody calls me by my name anymore. "Come here girl" is what I hear more often. But I am more likely to be called Pet. Pet. Pet, that's not my name, but that's what I've been called ever since I was a toddler. Pet, that's who I am now. Pet, that's what my family has made me.

I grew up with the Perkins family on a lonely farmhouse. Grammy and Gramps were all my world. They raised me or rather Grammy raised me with a lot of love. I was home-schooled because the nearest school was some 20 miles away from the farmhouse. There were few distractions in our compact life. We had no television and no internet connection (one was taken later to help me with my schooling, but it was used only under the supervision of Gramps). We had no neighbors and the only visitors would be my Uncles.

When I was little it felt like there were scores of Uncles. Grammy and Gramps had 7 sons who were all married and lived in different cities. They never brought their families, but I'd been told that they all had sons too. Boys run in this family. I was the only girl in this family in around 3 generations, and not of their blood. Grammy and Gramps are not really my grandparents.

No-one knows who my father was. My mother was the daughter of someone who used to work on the farm. She had grown up with my Uncles. And was on the verge of getting married to one of them when she ran away from home. There was no news of her for over 2 years. In the meantime her parents had died and her siblings had moved away without leaving a contact address. After 2 years, Grammy got the news that my mother was in a bad way - she was deeply into drugs and heavily pregnant. Grammy went to bring her back home, but only returned with me still in my swaddling clothes. Grammy had always wanted a daughter and she decided to raise me as her own. Gramps always claimed that I came from bad seed and I would run away like my mother and leave them heart-broken once again. It didn't help that I looked exactly like my mother. Like her I am a brunette, petite girl, with small perky breasts, narrow waist and rounded hips. I don't recall hearing my mother's name ever. Gramps always referred to her as "that whore" or "that bitch" and Grammy used to refer to her as "the poor unfortunate child" (she only talked about her when Gramps was not around, and then not much).

I was mortally scared of Gramps. He had a thundering voice and a very loud personality. His 6'5" frame towered over my 5'1". He and all my Uncles were tall men, broad in shoulders and quite muscular. Gramps did not much care for me and I was terrified of making the slightest mistake in his presence. He was in his 60s when Grammy brought me home, but even now he looks like he is in his late 50s at the most.

I loved Grammy with all my heart and soul. I would follow her around like a puppy. She was the epitome of perfection for me. I modeled my behavior after hers. She was my hero, my anchor in life. She used to make these pretty little dolls for me. She taught me how to fashion clothes for them and make pretty little utensils for my play-kitchen out of mud. I played with my dolls till I was old enough to help her in the kitchen. Almost all my clothes were sewn by Grammy at home, till she taught me how to stitch my own dresses.

As she grew older, I began to take on more and more of her workload. By the time I was 18 I was doing all the cooking, cleaning, laundry and ironing in the house. I did not for a moment resent my life or ask for anything other than to live with Grammy and Gramps. Never having left the confines of the farmhouse, I did not know any other way of life. New York and China were one and the same to me - unreachable fairy lands. Things were just this way when my life changed. Like all changes this change came totally unexpectedly, knocking on the doors of my sex and made me who I am today.

Even though I was 18, at the time, I'd never done anything sexual. Not even touching myself. Or exploring my own body. You could put it down to the upbringing I had received and the lack of exposure. Grammy was too old-fashioned to talk about these things and Gramps believed that the less I knew about "temptations and sinful life" the better-off I was. When I had hit puberty, the only thing that Grammy told me was that now I would be visited by the "curse" every month and I had to make sure I was clean during those days.

Even though Grammy was much younger than Gramps, her failing health was apparent during my growing years. This was also why I had begun to take on more and more chores so that she could rest up. In her last days she was bedridden for almost 2 years. As she grew weaker and weaker Gramps grew more belligerent. He took to drinking and would be drunk soon after sunset. I tried to finish my work during the daylight hours and I would spend the evenings in Grammy's room, caring for her, reading to her or if she was sleeping trying to catch up with either my schoolwork or later on with some needle-work.

My room was changed and I left my own room and began sleeping on a truckle-bed set up in what used to be Grammy's dressing room. This was also the period when I began having nightmares and would wake up in the night crying. I would wake up sobbing, curled up in a fetal position, sucking my thumb. Sometimes I would wake up to find my bed wet. I had never wet my bed even as a child, and so these nights would be especially traumatic. Embarrassed, I would wash myself, change into a simple shift and then try to sneak back into my bed without waking up my grandparents.

One night a few minutes after I crept into my bed and tried to fall asleep, I felt a hand slowly stroking my thighs over my shift. I stiffened thinking that Gramps needed something and was trying to wake me up without disturbing Grammy. Little did I know that this was the biggest mistake of my life. I tried to get up but he pushed me back into the bed, his hand over my mouth.

"Shhh! Softly pet, or you'll wake up Grammy", I heard a fierce whisper.

"Not a word out of you", he commanded, slurring his words. I could smell the strong alcohol on his breath. The world came crashing down, as I gave in to his unspoken desire.

Gramps lay down next to me on the small bed. I was squeezed between the wall and his strong, muscular body. There was no where I could turn to or even move without his cooperation.

I lay snuggled against him. His one arm snaked under my head and was playing with my breast. One of my legs was trapped under his, while the other was splayed out. Gramps still had one hand between my legs. As my body melded into his, I became aware, for the first time, of the hardness that lay between us, its insistent push against my soft stomach. I tried to touch it, to feel it, but his hands held me immobile.

With one arm Gramps pulled me closer to him, with the other he continued to explore me. Sometimes his touch felt as soft as the breeze, and sometimes like a feather being run over. I was beginning to enjoy his touch and even felt slightly jealous of Grammy because no one had made me feel so good before. As his exploration continued I shifted ever so slightly. As I moved, my shift rose higher, exposing almost all of my lower body. Gramps was quick to take advantage as he pulled my underwear down and kicked it away. His touch became firmer and his hands roaming with more impunity. I felt his fingers slide between my half closed legs, now kneading the upper thighs, now stroking them, now running his fingernails across the length and now just tickling them. He traced up the sides slowly, then down the front of them, up the back of them, dragging his nails slowly all the way up both legs until he reached my ass. The feeling of it made the skin on my legs prickle with goose pimples.

I didn't realize it but my shift had now risen almost up to my shoulders, I was almost panting and unknowingly my hands had moved to stroking my breasts. My back was completely arched as I gave myself up in the hands of Gramps. My legs turned to water and I felt something building inside me, I know not what. I just didn't want him to stop doing whatever he was doing. But then why had he never made me feel so good before? Before my mind could process anything, he pulled me even closer, if that was possible. As another low moan broke from me, he kissed me on the lips for the first time. He leaned into me and I could feel his breath hot up against my neck.

As his tongue played games with my soft lips, his fingers played with the lips below. Somehow his fingers had worked their way inside my panties and were teasing the opening of my lips. I opened my mouth to moan once again and swiftly his tongue darted in taking control of my tongue, playing with it, exploring it. And then I became aware of another sensation in my body. His finger had managed to enter me just when his tongue entered my mouth and it was doing wonderful things to my body. His finger had succeeded in parting the outer lips, stroking casually over the inner lips, and finally starting to tease around the muscled ring of my virginal entry. The finger traced slowly in a circle, mapping my opening, then softly probing in a little deeper, retreating back out, and then repeating several times. I tried to encourage that finger to explore deeper.

The finger didn't oblige me though, but instead worked upwards to my clit that was still hiding in its protective hood. That changed quickly when his lithe fingers started to rub and tease over my clit, coaxing it to swell and rise from its hiding place. I moved my body in rhythm with his movements as my desires overtook me.

"Please", I begged him, not knowing what I begged for. I whimpered, I cried, I moaned but his fingers never stopped torturing me, I don't know how long it continued. All I know is that somewhere Gramps was in total control of my body. Whatever I felt was at his pleasure and I let him exercise his will on me. Every fiber of my being had given itself to what those hands wanted of me. All thought, all memory, everything was lost - all that existed was the feelings and the demands of those hands on my body. I could hear a whimpering in the room, and somebody breathing heavily, almost panting and a low guttural sound.

By now he had worked two fingers inside me, a few seconds later his seeking fingers found my G-spot. I had no idea what it was that he had suddenly started to rub consistently as he thrust his two digits in and out of my slick passage - but I did know it felt amazing. My breathing started to get fast and shallow, and my heart started to beat so fast and loud that it sounded like it was beating somewhere up inside my eardrums rather than down in my chest.

I could feel a sensation unlike anything I had felt before, and I really wasn't quite sure what was happening. All I knew was that the huge ball of feelings that were building up somewhere in the pit of of my stomach was growing bigger and bigger and if that dam burst I would soon drown. I was nothing but a jumble of nerve endings and sensations. All I knew was that the feelings inside me had taken me over completely. Feelings I never knew existed. They were taking me headlong onto the edge of a precipice. I wanted this slow torture to end, I wanted him to never stop what he was doing. I wanted a release from what I know not and yet there was an emptiness inside of me. I was confused, dazed and then the dam broke.

It started high up like the shock-wave of an earthquake, and then drove down through my abdomen in a tsunami of heated liquid. It raced down through my legs, causing my upper thighs to shake uncontrollably, causing the muscles in my stomach to contract hard and tight as I spasmed back and forth violently. I no longer heard anything but the crashing thump of my own heart. The torrent of juices erupted out, and drenched the sheets and his hands.

I lost track of time and even of my surroundings, and couldn't tell how long it lasted - it could have been seconds or even minutes for all I knew. I was floating in air. I saw myself for the first time, my sweat-soaked body was lying completely exposed on the bed. My legs lewdly spread apart. My hips were thrashing up and down wildly as my hands cupped my breasts. There was an ugly wet spot on the bed between my legs, quite similar to the wet spots I was used to finding. Gramps was kneeling between my legs. He had his cock out in his hand and he was stroking it and spurts of white cream fell on my body. I could see Grammy still sleeping peacefully, unaware of what was happening next to her bed. And then I came back to my body.

I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. And then Gramps had scooped me up in his arms. My last memory of that night is sitting in his lap, my head resting on his shoulders. He kissed my tears away and his hands once again began rubbing my pussy lips. This time it felt nice and comforting. He kept caressing me and telling me what I good girl I was and how I was the pet of the family and how much he and my uncles loved me. Grammy I whispered softly. Yes she too, he told me but not as much as the men in the family. I fell asleep in his arms to the soothing sound of his voice and the comfort of his arms, knowing that so long as he held me I was safe.

Next morning I was busy with my household chores as usual, Gramps was away for most of the day. I was left pretty much to myself to make sense of my confused feelings. My legs felt sore and I got this burning sensation when I tried to pee, reminding me that the events of last night were very real. But these feelings were again not new. Had Gramps been visiting my bed all these other nights? Is that why I used to find my bed wet? But then why had I not woken up before? Why had Grammy slept through the night?

Somewhere during the middle of the day Grammy called me to her room. She seemed to be happy for some reason. When I entered the room, my eyes fell on my small bed in the corner of the dressing room. I tried to wipe out my guilty memories and somehow lost track of what she was saying. I could not look up at her or raise my eyes above her toes.

And then her jumbled words began to fall in place. She was going away for weeks and I would be alone with Gramps all this time. She felt that taking care of her above all my chores would be too much of a burden, plus she would get better medical care and round-the-clock nursing in the city. She would also be closer to her sons, who could visit her more often than at the farm.

The rest of the day passed in a daze. I knew what Grammy's departure meant. I was not so naive after all. Whatever had happened between me and Gramps last night was totally wrong. But then I had not initiated anything. It was he who had been in control all of last night. But had I not been a willing accomplice and why was I keeping quiet now? Did it mean that I wanted more of it all? And where would it end? Could I stay alone with Gramps after everything, did I want to? Did I love him and trust him? Yes I did.

I loved him, even though he terrified me. I felt safe with him, I liked him to hold me, and call me his pet, and I liked the new feelings he was wakening in me. Unknowingly I realized that for the first time in my life my hands had traveled inside my panties and I was soaking wet just thinking of Gramps.

That evening as Grammy left, I waved her goodbye with Gramps. Gramps had his arm around me, resting possessively on my belly as he stood just behind me. Through my thin dress I could feel his hard-on pressed against my butt. As Grammy's car faded from sight Gramps led me back into the house. Her final words as she sent me away kept ringing in my ears "You have to take care of your Gramps now Pet. There's no one else I can trust. You know exactly how he likes things and he won't be comfortable anywhere other than this farm. Be good to him and don't anger him."

Yes Grammy.