Work Text:
Charlie is a cute little girl, her foster mother has been bringing her to his practice for a week now, trying out different options and it seems she is either resistant or distrustful of adults, but especially closed off with women. I thought perhaps my perception of her being flirtatious with me when we started was just my own imagination but behavior here in this field are rarely accidents. Low and behold, looking at the girl’s file, she has a history of being overly friendly with her male providers. Her mother says she hasn’t noticed any behavioral issues other than an overt sense of independence and refusal to ask for help. Which is typical for someone who came from a neglectful home. The girl comes in today for another appointment, I’ll keep an eye out for her overly friendly behaviors.
As he finishes typing up this note he looks down at the clock on his desk, it was time for him to go out and see if her family had arrived. The wheels of his chair creak as he pushes back from his desk and hefts himself out from the seat. His nice leather shoes tap as he walks across the laminate floors. The hallway is a bit long, his office being in the far corner. When he reached the door to the patient waiting room Charlie and her foster mother were already there waiting.
He waves Charlie to follow him and she slides out from her seat and trots across the room towards him. The door closes behind the both of them as they begin to walk. “That’s a nice skirt.” He compliments, its the first time he’s ever seen this tomboy in a skirt before. Charlie looks down at it, smoothing it down with her hands.
“We went to church today.” She informs as she picks at the hem. She seems a little uncomfortable with the garment, tugging it down again and again as though it showed off too much of her thighs. Her gaze glances up through her long dark lashes at him, he’s still looking her over; from her dark brown curls to the slenderness of her shoulders bordered by the straps of her tank top. She’s still too young to be wearing any sort of bras and from this height he can see right down her shirt, something that makes him avert his eyes quickly.
“And how was that?” He says quickly as they make it to the door and he swings it open for her.
“Kinda boring…” She says with a shrug, watching him close the door behind them with a click. She remains silent for a long moment before she speaks up again. “Can we… do it again?” She says softly, his discomfort at the image that provokes is clear on his face.
“Do what?” His voice sounds a little worried and confused by the unprompted phrasing. But when Charlie points at the door he remembers. “Ah, yes we can lock the door again.” He back tracks the few steps he’d taken towards the seating and turns the small bobbin at the center of the knob. It seems to soothe her right away.
They both move to the chairs, Charlie on the small two cushion love seat and him to the arm chair opposite it. He takes the clipboard with his notes and goes through it for a moment. “Was there anything you wanted to talk about today?” He asks, still a little shaky on how to treat young patients, he didn’t usually take them this small, but Charlie likes that he talks to her like a grown up.
Charlie’s legs swing on the couch for a moment before she rolls her shoulders in a small shrug. “Whatever they want me to talk about.” Charlie wasn’t here because she wanted to be, it was suggested by the system to help her deal with her consistent headbutting with authority figures. Charlie didn’t get along with most adults who treated her like she should obey just because she’s little. She was responsible for herself most of her life and was treated like an adult by all her mother’s friends even when she was under six.
“What about your mom? Is there anything you’d want to talk about involving her?” He presses with a slight tilt to his head, it was in his notes that she’d recalled that her mother didn’t take very good care of her.
Quiet fills the room, only the clock ticking. “I don’t know.” Charlie says softly. “She really didn’t pay attention to anything I was doing.” The works are blunt and flat, as if it were a boring fact of life.
“Were there any other adults who took care of you?” He asks as he writes something down, the pencil rasping against the paper as he does.
“Not really, but her friends were nice sometimes.” She looks away, at her fidgeting hands, she doesn’t know what to do with them.
“Who do you remember the most?” Once again prompting Charlie to keep talking. She wasn’t very chatty usually.
“David.” She says with a warm voice, a clear sign she remembered him fondly. “He brought me gifts all the time. And I got to stay at his house and watch scary movies.” She seems to really like those as she sounds especially enthusiastic.
“You never get scared?” The therapist asks with a raised eyebrow and a look of concern.
“No, David said I’m a smart girl and know it's not real.” She proclaims, proud of being considered smarter than her age.
“Did he tell you that kind of stuff a lot?” He schools the worry out of his voice. Thinking of the warnings he’d been given when he took her on as a patient.
“Well… He treated me like a big girl, cause I acted like one. I was more mature than other kids.” Charlie still sounds proud of it, blind to the blatant grooming that went on.
“Did you do ‘big girl’ things with him?” He asks with his pen already touching the paper in preparation.
“Well, yeah.” Charlie seems to have noticed the therapists over interest. “But that’s because I was good at it.”
“At what?” He prompts once more. He has a feeling he’s not going to like what she’s about to say. “Did you ever play ‘big girl’ games in private?”
Charlie is quiet, just smart enough to get an idea of where he’s guiding these questions. Her hazel eyes flick over him as if trying to read his body language. Her eyes flick down to his pants for a moment, they linger there just a bit too long. She can see the outlined bulge of his cock through his pants, it makes her shift a little in her seat before she tears her eyes away.
“Sometimes. When I stayed over or when Mommy was downstairs.” She admits, her voice soft and hesitant.
“Did he touch you anywhere that might have made you uncomfortable or scared?” The question comes out quick, too quick to just be normal in Charlie’s mind. She’s trying to pick up what little signs she’s seen that might indicate he was ‘safe’ to tell about their games.
“I was only scared when he touched me at first.” She admits, her eyes flicking up to meet his gaze. The way she looks at him is so intense it feels like she’s watching every twitch of his muscles. “But he made it not scary.”
“And where would he touch you?” He asks with the pen rocking back and forth in his fingers. His eyes scanning her face, she’s looking again. He can see she’s staring, not knowing she wasn’t supposed to.
“Here.” She says softly, her hands hover around her hips for a moment, making a vague motion for a moment, finally breaking the extended moment of staring she’d been doing at the crotch of his pants. He’s got a bulge there, not from being hard but an unmistakable shape of how his size is not well confined by the soft looking fabric of his professional slacks.
“On your hips?” He asks, putting pen to paper, ready to take notes.
“No.” Charlie softly says, nervously glancing around to the door even though she knows he promised to have locked the door so no one could come in. In their last session they’d had another patient open his door while they were mid session and it seemed to really freak her out, she shut down completely and was quiet the whole rest of their time.
“Here.” She says softly, her fingers grip the hem of her skirt, lifting it to show off the small blue striped panties underneath.
His breath caught in his throat, too stunned to speak for a moment as his eyes locked in on the smooth skin beneath her skirt, her mother hadn’t made her wear any stockings or tights and he could very clearly see the pattern of her white flower printed panties. There was an unmistakable damp spot at the bottom just between the plump shape of her mons. Was she getting off on the idea of him seeing her under her skirt? It seemed so, she was watching his face closely, before her eyes fell down to the crotch of his pants again. This wasn’t just flirtatious, and only after two sessions. He knows why she’d been transferred so many times now. He was the only other male in the practice, he didn’t even usually see child patients.
“On your privates?” He clarifies, trying to stay professional. It was hard when that wet spot had gotten into his brain somehow. He feels a deep sense of revulsion at the idea that flits through his brain like the clumsy path of a butterfly, lighting up his neurons. She won’t put it down, just holding it up and out of the way.
Charlie nods quickly. Her hands finally let go of the fabric but instead of pulling it back down over her knees she lets it drape over her belly. She doesn’t say anything else, just sits there like that with it out open for the whole room. He should tell her to pull it down again. Should tell her that she shouldn’t be showing people her panties like this but he also doesn’t want her to feel like he’s shaming her.
“Did it hurt? Were you scared?” He asks, his eyes dragging themselves up and away from the pale skin of her smooth thighs. He could feel a familiar electric sensation that made his pants feel suddenly confining, his belt a little too tight around his hips.
She shook her head slowly. “He wasn’t mean to me. It felt good when he touched me there, it made me feel tingly.” She admits her hands playing with the hem of her skirt in a nervous gesture. “He let me play with all his big girl toys.” The image of her spread open and shaking as he used the rumbling buzz of a wand on Charlie’s tiny cunny practically fills her therapist's brain so it's the only thing he can see in his mind's eye and he can’t seem to redirect away from it.
He’s silent as he tries to grapple with that to ask another question. “Did you ever tell anyone what he was doing?” He asks, eyes flicking down to her crotch again as she shifts to get comfortable. He’s now guilty of doing exactly what she had been not but a moment ago.
Charlie once again shook her head, though she does look a little sheepish about it. “He told me it was just a game for us, that I shouldn’t tell my mom because she already knew.” Charlie thinks about it for a moment. Her special friend made it very clear that this was just how men played with girls her age and it was normal. She’d learned that most boys and men wanted to play these games with her, and that it was just a thing that boys liked to do. It was a regular thing, so why would she complain about them.
“Did she know?” He asks, shifting so that his cock wasn’t too noticeable as it got a little stiff from the idea. He crosses his legs, squeezing it between his thighs.
“I don’t know.” Charlie admits, her hands laying flat on her thighs and rubbing down them to her knees for a moment before tucking them between her legs, squeezing them between her thighs. Her little hips rocked a bit, rubbing her damp panties on the curve of her thumbs, her go to way to touch herself since she was little. It doesn’t go unnoticed. It was like a stand off between them, both obviously having a tingling excitement that was growing between their legs as the session moved forwards. He checks the clock, they’ve only just started and it's about 15 minutes into their 1 hour session.
“What are you doing with your hands?” He asks, straight forwards. She stops immediately, looking down as if she’s guilty and scared she’ll be scolded.
“I don’t know.” She lies, its obvious to tell she’s lying because of the tone of her voice and the way she avoids eye contact.
He has a decision to make, and his muscles are aching to move while his brain struggles to regain control of his instincts. Without a word he sets his clipboard down and shifts forwards in his chair. Charlie is frozen in place as he makes the small walk over to her seat. She looks up at him for a moment, watching him come sit in the seat beside her on the small loveseat. “Do you do this often?” He asks, hand cupping over hers. She looks down at his hand for a long time before she begins to rock again.
“Everyday… even at school.” She admits, her addiction to masturbation wasn’t the reason why she was here but it was crippling, whenever she was alone and got the chance. Even sometimes when she wasn’t alone. He watches intensely as she ruts into her firm hands again and again. He can feel his cock twitch in the confines of his pants, creating a form down one pant leg.
His hand gently pushes hers away, she allows him without a fight. The tips of his fingers follow the crease her small lips make as the damp fabric sticks to her smooth hairless skin. She’s wetter than he expected. There’s a moment of panic in his brain, where he doesn’t know what he’s doing before he tucks his finger into the leg hole of her panties and pushes it aside. His fingers glide through the slick, feeling her small petite folds till he gets to the bottom where her pussy’s tight opening was. He tests it, the small crackle of sticky slick separating is loud in the quiet room.
She balls her hands into tiny fists as he slips a finger inside, its tight but slides in surprisingly easy. Every time he pulls out he feels it clench around him and every time he pushes in it squelches softly from how drippingly slick she is. He isn’t even sure most women could get this wet so quickly. Without thinking even a moment he leans down and puts his mouth over her exposed cunny, pushing the fabric of her panties open further with a free finger.
His mouth suctions onto the top of her mound, blindly searching for a familiar landmark. His tongue quests till it finds the miniscule roll of skin that hides her young clit. She jumps a little with his tongue roughly flicking over it. She’s sensitive and he can hear her breathing quicken. She instinctively holds her breath, just like she’s been taught as he laps at her dripping slit. HIs finger slips in and out with ease, curling up in search of the sensitive bundle of nerves that should be just behind her pubic bone.
His tongue is merciless, flicking in rough harsh swipes before he begins to flutter just the tip over the small pin sized button. Her legs tremble and shake as he tongues her clit quickly. Her legs tense and relax, falling open like a butterfly and giving him better access. His free hand grips her leg closest to him, hooking his fingers around the curve just behind her knee and pulling her so her open legs spread on either side of his face. Her one leg hikes up over his left shoulder as he hones his attention on her tingling princess parts.
Charlies head goes back, tossing to one side as it rests on the arm of the love seat. Her breath shudders through her nose as she gets closer to a strong fast climax. His quick tongue was doing a great job making her writhe under him. Her hips pressing up in small pulses to encourage him to keep sucking on her underdeveloped clit. She’s good at keeping her noise down because even as he’s driving her to the edge she doesn’t make so much as a peep.
One of her hands reaches up to grip his sweater, fingers curling into the fabric as her body goes taught, her insides clenching impossibly tight around his finger as she hits her limit. Her head goes from one side to the other as her body goes as taut as a bow, he can feel her cunny pulse in small waves under his tongue as she cums. He keeps moving without slowing down for a moment, driving it on as long as he possibly can. Her fist and arm shake spastically as the overstimulation overwhelms her muscles.
Her hips pull away hard and sharp when she’s unable to withstand any more stimulation. It makes his mouth come free with a sharp wet pop. She panting and trembling as he sits up, looking down at her wanton expression. He fumbles with his belt, unsure what his own intentions are but he knows he can’t stay in the now painfully tight fabric of his pants.
Charlie opens her eyes a peek to watch him wrench out his hard cock, it stands straight out, darker than the rest of his skin with the tip an angry looking red. He’s bigger than she’s seen before, but she kind of thought he’d be since she could see his cock’s bulge in his pants even when they were nicely fit to his height and size.
She sits up, without thinking both of them move, him standing and her leaning forwards. Her mouth opens almost as if on cue, tongue pressed out, she points the tip right at his slit and flickers her tongue over it with the same look that a hamster might have licking from its water dispenser.
She does this for a few seconds before her cute little mouth stretches around his shape of his tip, those pouty pink lips flexing slightly as she sucks. Her tongue is hot and confident as it ruts up and laves over the tip that’s hidden inside her mouth. Its circles, flicks and grinds its whole textured flat against the sensitive glans. He’s dripping precum, leaning back as he watches her. Her face seems so placid and calm as she suckles his cock.
Her body leans forwards, pressing farther down his shaft until her mouth is full. His breathing is starting to pick up. Her tongue was like a writhing creature against the underside of his cock, still coaxing him to produce more of the salty dewing that she’s feeding off. His wife wasn’t nearly this enthusiastic about his requests for head. Without a word Charlie begins to bob in small pulses, working just one or two inches in and out of her mouth with delightfully strong suction.
Without thinking his hand touches the back of her head, anchoring her in place as his hips twitch and cock jumping in her mouth. She obeys his call for stillness as he thrusts his hips to make up for it. He moves kind of quickly, his need and excitement driving him to be a little rushed. He presses farther and farther in to see just how much she can take of it.
It's not so much her limit on how deep he can go but of how wide her mouth can be, its smaller than he’s used to. He feels his tip hit the back of her throat and she coughs almost immediately, everything tensing around his cock head, but she doesn’t gag. This only excites him even more, his hand resting on her head pulling her down his cock until she’s gotten at least four inches into it. Her eyes are welling with tears and her throat spasms and tenses but still no gag.
The sound of her wet sucking and his panting breaths are all that's in the room other than the metronome-like clock that ticks like a bomb down to the last seconds their session should be over. He fucks the first four inches in and out of her mouth while her tongue writhes under it, he’s getting close at a faster pace than usual. A combination of the taboo of fucking this little girl’s face and how hot and slick her sucking is. There’s amazement underneath all of that as Charlie hasn’t gagged much if at all. The only sign of her struggling to withstand the harsh fuck into her face are her tears.
Again and again he thrusts without end, gritting his teeth as the feeling of his climax builds up in the base of his cock, balls pulling up tight against his body as it careens into him like a runaway train. Without a word he groans, gripping a fist full of her hair to hold her still while his pulsing shaft dumps a rope of hot cum down her throat. She chokes a little and it comes up into her mouth and nose a bit but he just pumps another splash into her throat again. He grinds his hips forward, trying with strictly controlled strength to push a little deeper but barely manages to move a centimeter.
When he feels no more of his seed lashing out from him he pulls back. Her mouth is a mess of sloppy saliva and the hints of cum that came up from her throat. She wipes her eyes with the heel of her hand and coughs and chokes a bit. His first instinct from years of muscle memory is to grab the tissues. She takes a few and begins to wipe her face and neck. There’s a tense silence between them as she cleans. He cleans himself off as well, heart pounding and head rushing with thoughts.
He cheated on his wife. He fucked a little girl’s mouth, a sexual abuse victim just sucked his cock at his place of work. His body is filled with terror and disgust and a rush of taboo desire. He’s trapped in his own thoughts as Charlie wipes up the mess from between her legs too. She’d been covered in all sorts of slimy fluids. Once she’s clean and the tissues are in the trash she smiles up at him, beaming as if nothing happened. It makes his pulse jump.
Glancing at the clock he sees that their time is up. He tucks himself away and zips up his pants. Preparing to walk her back to her parents, anxiety and panic making him shake with nerves. As they walk Charlie doesn’t seem to be bothered even in the slightest, not as shaken as he was right now. He opens the door to the waiting room, lets her out with a small goodbye and watches her mother walk her out to the car without anything but a thankful wave. He closes the door quickly and makes his way back to his office a little stunned. Charlie has another appointment next week, he’s not sure how he’ll face her again.. Or his next patient for that matter.