Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 & Airindel)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Airindel on 29-01-2009, 16:52:58</h2>
		<dl id="posts">
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>29-01-2009, 16:52:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Smoke, a velvety haze of airy grey, rolled over a moist pink tongue, curled over natural shaded glossed lips and dissipated into the warmth of an early summer afternoon. The burning cigarette was held loose in thin fingers that were adorned with a scattering of rings: one was that of a ladybug, 14K and enamelled, and a gift from Abigail's father. On the shore of the Ottawa River the girl stood, her lean form swathed in a sundress, the classic colour of navy with fine white polka dots, and her dark eyes, perhaps a little too sultry for only being seventeen years, scanned the blueness of the water. It was not the grandness of the St. Lawrence, but beautiful all the same: a saving grace for the rural location of her Grandfather's house, his abode: a rambling manor of limestone that was over a century old on the outskirts of Arnprior.<br><br><em> “The bastard will die soon, and your aunts, your uncles, your cousins, they do not have the education and social knowledge to appreciate the old man's money. You do, Abigail, because I taught you, as did the graces of being raised in the best boarding schools in Quebec. I do, too, but the old man doesn't find me appealing despite my equality to him, despite my blood....He'll adore you. He has to, Abigail. My inheritance, our inheritance, is in your hands so do not fail us. Endear yourself to him.”</em><br><br>“Fuck, this is going to be one long summer.” She whispered to herself as she remembered her mother's words, and she stubbed out the cigarette upon the sandy ground where she stood. Those dark eyes of hers, those that smouldered with the brashness of youth and underlying sexuality, those that men adored, cast a long look at the house that would be her home until the beginning of university in September.<br><br>Her relatives, she barely knew. The odd letter she received on her birthday, or an email from her cousins, but like her mother, she was estranged from her extended family. Now, she volunteered, at least to a degree, to live with her Grandfather who was recuperating from an injury, and many cousins were fascinated by her although her uncles were suspicious as were her aunts.<br><br>They had every right to be, Abigail had to admit.<br><br>Her mother had left two hours ago, and the last of the unknown relatives were departing from the homestead. The sound of a car's engine faded in the distance. It made Abigail breathe easier, and her long legs strode towards the house now that it was empty save for her Grandfather.<br><br>Once inside, Abigail began to walk through the house, a maze of unfamiliar rooms, dark and dreary, musty with age and antiquity until she found what could be deemed as a library or study. Smooth delicate fingers glided over leather bound books, some gilded with gold, others marbled, all neat and all orderly, and with some hesitancy, Abigail pulled a Jane Austen's <em>Pride and Prejudice</em> from the shelf. She would take it to read later on in the evening for the book was silent and quiet like the never ending solitude and loneliness of the house itself. <br><br>She would pluck up bravery, and explore the house further until she found her Grandfather, or he found her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kasen03</strong> on <strong>30-01-2009, 00:04:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				When she turned, he was standing there in the doorway, staring at her.<br><br>He was tall, although right now he was bent over and walked with an ornate silver cane - the silver long tarnished.&nbsp; His hair was unkempt and his chin hidden behind several days of overgrowth.&nbsp; He was wearing a dark blue houserobe with silver embroidery across the breast.&nbsp; He was old and broken looking, although if one looked past the stubble and into his piercing blue eyes.. there was a hard-as-nails passion there.&nbsp; His face was wrinkled and old, his eyebrows almost comical and his hair dark with the odd streaking of grey.&nbsp; His expression was sour and his attitude was very standoffish and aloof.&nbsp; No one was let into his world.<br><br>"Don't touch that." He hobbled into the room, reaching up to swing his cane towards her hand before she could remove his book.&nbsp; "In fact don't touch anything.&nbsp; You kids have no appreciation.. " he pushed himself between her and the bookshelf, reaching to gently slide the book back into place..his hand lingering on it a moment, then turning.<br><br>"I don't know why you came.&nbsp; I don't want you here.&nbsp; If your good-for-nothing mother had not called with the sob-story.. I tell you.. I knew trouble would occur.&nbsp; Right back when she brought that draft-dodger..what was his name.. Fritz?&nbsp; Frank?&nbsp; Sounds like a German to me.." he starts to guide her out of the library.. "I knew he was no good.. knock your mom up and then off he runs.. But then she's no better then any of them."&nbsp; He scowls..definitely not the 'lovable grandfather'.. there are no family pictures up.&nbsp; There are lots of pictures of Abi's grandmother..and various others.. old WWII pictures.. other veterans.. or other people from the Men's clubs that Jacob belong to in his time..but no family.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>30-01-2009, 01:15:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Abigail had remained still, frozen in spot, when she turned and saw the antiqued figure looming in the doorway hunched over his cane that was firmly clutched in his hand. From the description that Abigail's mother gave of&nbsp; her father, that being the grandfather, and that of a cankerous old bastard who had seen too many years, seemed fairly suited to him from just the very stance that he held; an air of authority, an air of confidence, of certainty and of arrogance. It made Abigail's mouth instantly dry, and a nervous flutter cramped her flat tummy, yet before she could say anything let alone do anything, the cane, one that was as ancient as the man wielding it, struck her knuckles as he approached her. <br><br>There was a yelp, a cry that Abigail did not recognize despite the fact that it was her velvety voice that echoed in the study, and echoed the pain that washed over her knuckles, her youthful skin. A rapid heated welt blossomed on her hand, and steadfast, with tears in her eyes, the girl cradled her hand. Cool thin fingers tried to soothe the burning pain.<br><br><em>He's worse than a nun who needs to be fucked by the bishop.</em> The thought, let alone words, never left her mind or lips for she was urgently pushed aside and into the hall. The study was to be forbidden to her...and then there was his flurry of caustic words.<br><br>“Fritz. Fritz Laurent.” Abigail stated, her father's name clear in her mine; his heritage was that of German and French. Abigail stumbled as she walked, her heeled shoes not in pace with that of her grandfather's. She caught herself then, and made quick composure to gain some dignity, or at least make a defence for existence before him. “And I'm not responsible for my parents promiscuity!” She exclaimed, her accent quick and thick, and she dared to meet the old man's gaze to stare deeply, and unsettling, into the blueness of them. “Or their ineptitude to use rubbers!” She broke his gaze and stepped away from him to find herself leaning against the hall wall.<br><br>“And I'm not certain of what fucking sob story the simple bitch told you, but I don't want to be here, and yet,” Flashes of anger flickered in her eyes, years of contempt and hostility, stress and anxiety from the car ride and arguments that burst between she and her mother on their journey to the Stein homestead.&nbsp; “She living with this Gerald fellow, and he freaks me out. I can't stand him.”&nbsp; <br><br>Her mother had been with Gerald for a year, and every time Abigail visited 'home', or they visited her in school, the girl was witness to the man groping her mother, pawing her...and the noises of the bed squeaking at night, and the grunts and moans of sex. <br><br>“Please,” Her voice calmed, soothed into almost nothingness, and once more she stole a glimpse of him. “Please don't send me home.” <br><br>It was an earnest plea.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kasen03</strong> on <strong>30-01-2009, 05:26:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was obvious when she called her mom a bitch that he was about to cut her off..but he let her listen to the rest of her story.&nbsp; When she finally paused, he paused in backing her up - they had made it as far as the entry-hall - and then looked at her.&nbsp; The silver cane flashed up in the dark room and thumped against her upper arm.<br><br>"In my day.. one would NEVER talk about their elders like that." he thumped her again.. "We had RESPECT for our parents.. even if she was a useless trollop who stained our name."&nbsp; He lowered the cane and frowned.. turning and murmering.. "Marrying a German.. Frenchman.. just so .. " he shakes his head.. then turns.<br><br>"And you.. what of you.&nbsp; You don't even speak proper English.. or is that what they teach you at your /school/ you go to.&nbsp; In my day.. a woman knew her place..&nbsp; cooking meals.. cleaning.&nbsp; They never chased after men.. nor did they try to prove themselves by going to school.&nbsp; Mildred.. she was a good woman." He makes a quick cross across his chest..his eyes looking up to one of the many photos.. Grandma sitting properly in the picture..prim and proper and never speaking out of turn.&nbsp; That was Grandma.&nbsp; "There are no good women anymore.. " he turns and scowls.. looking at Abi.&nbsp; A long pause.. then a sigh.&nbsp; "Where are your things.&nbsp; You can take your mother's room.&nbsp; It's in the East wing.&nbsp; I'll go and open the vents.. heat it up.&nbsp; Quilts are in the closet in the hall." he points up the large grandiose oak staircase leading up and away... then steps aside.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>30-01-2009, 17:27:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Abigail had not expected to be struck with the cane again, that on her upper arm, her slender biceps, and the burning sensation of another pink welt blossomed onto her skin to match the one on her knuckles. She had stopped stroking her hand and instead touched her muscle where pain inflamed it. She had wanted to argue with him, with his comments, and there was an inkling of a thought to grab the cane and thump the old man with it, but Abi knew it was futile for he seemed well preserved in his bitter and disagreeable personality.<br><br>A needle of hurt lingered in Abigail when the old man spoke of her father so disagreeably, yet kinder than her mother would have.<br><br><em>... “Stupid fucking male has shit between his ears instead of a brain! Oh, I know his sly little games! Wanting to visit you, wanting to spend time with you...all to poison you against me, Abi, that is all.”...</em><br><br>On the mention of Mildred, a woman's name whom she never heard before, Abigail traced the glance of her Grandfather's gaze to that of a picture. She had to guess that Mildred was her grandmother, and from the photos, both taken in days of youth and of age, she was a woman that possessed quiet charm and a soft beauty. Had Abigail been any more forward or bold, she would have removed a photo from the wall to study it, but if the removal of a book upset the grouch, Abigail did not want to press her luck with the removal of a picture.<br><br>“Yes, Sir. Thank you.” Abigail said demurely as if verbally chastised by the head master of the school she attended, yet he never wielded a cane, and so the words to her grandfather were spoken genuinely and out of fear of being struck yet again. <br><br>With her dismissal, and in knowing her uncle put her luggage on the landing to the second floor, Abigail slowly walked up the oak staircase. She never ran up flights of stairs, save for when she was late for a class, and her hand glided over the banister for guidance. The heels of her shoes clicked against the wood, and the slight noise echoed in the silent house.<br><br>The east wing. <br><br>On the landing of the second floor, Abigail picked up the satchel that held her laptop, and with ease, she picked up the box that contained her Xbox console. As she meandered through the hall, she found the room, or what she believed used to be her mother's room, and she pushed open the door to further peer inside. To a degree, she was frightened to step inside, and frightened because she did not want to explore what her mother may have experienced growing up, and hardly did Abigail want or wish to be like her mother.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kasen03</strong> on <strong>30-01-2009, 21:57:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jacob just watched his granddaughter as she flared a moment of resistance in her eyes, then it washed away - replaced by a quiet subservience.&nbsp; Noticing her glance at the photo, he quickly turns, and steps in the way.. as if he finds it an affront that she joined in the quiet observance.<br><br>He watched her as she walked up the stairs, a scowl on his sour face.. and when she got to the top, he was still there at the bottom.. staring at her.. his eyes suspicious and untrusting.&nbsp; Her belongings were there, along with an envelope that she didn't pack.&nbsp; <br><br>Large ornate double doors lead into east and west wings - with central part having a gallery on the second floor that overlooked a large warm study below (which is seen through the dusty glass inset into the doors.)&nbsp; Heading down the east wing, the doors stick for a moment, and opening them a chill overtakes Abi - it's obvious that the east wing is shut up- not in use anymore and just sealed.&nbsp; The carpet is dusty and faded, there are cobwebs over some of the pictures and light sconces, and faded pictures of idyllic scenes from the late 1800's adorn the walls.&nbsp; Here or there the antique wallpaper is curling from the top, but the place looks.. well..quite stereotypically antique.<br><br>The first bedroom obviously belong to a boy - one of her uncles.. by the dusty red cowboy hat.. the old posters of cowboys and indians.. the various other old toys - each neatly put away in it's place.&nbsp; The next room.. belong to a girl.&nbsp; And then..there.. on the antique dressing table with tarnished brass fittings - an old photograph of a girl who looks alot like Abi.. standing beside a handsome young man.&nbsp; Old dolls are carefully lined up - each in their place, and everything is carefully made - as if it was a museum exhibit.&nbsp; And..for someone used to the modern age - there is only one power socket in the wall.. near the door.. and it's a strange power socket..not like any modern one.&nbsp; Her electronic toys would be.. well.. useless.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>31-01-2009, 16:55:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Abigail stepped deeper into the preserved room, a sense of dread filling her as she saw the glassy eyes of dolls watching her, and in smelling the layers of dust within the room, and the dampness of being sealed shut, the girl opened the window. The wood pane was swollen, and with great effort Abi pulled up; an inch, then another inch, and another was eventually revealed with fresh air tumbling inside. Her view was that of the river and the copse of trees that lead to another copse and eventually woods and forest.<br><br>“The Group of Seven would have a field day.” She commented to herself, and turned to browse through the dolls. Fingers dusted off cobwebs, and as she lifted the one to announce she would be packed away in a box, rid of after all the years, a square packet of foil paper fell from the doll's dress. Abigail looked to her feet to see a condom, and a smile budded on her lips as she acknowledged her mother must have been sexually active with boys from the area.<br><br>“Well, we'll get rid of this before the old man accuses me of being a whore.” She tucked the condom back into the dress of the doll and set it down. Only then did she look at the photograph in the dull tarnished frame. Abigail looked much like her mother, which was not a bad thing considering Abigail thought her mother as pretty, yet there was plenty of physical differences between the two. She set the photograph down, and before she left the room to inquire about housecleaning supplies, Abi noted the outlet.<br><br>It made her stand still. “What the fuck?” She knelt down and stared at the two prong plug which denoted that the house was not wired to the current building standards. “Shit”.&nbsp; No Xbox considering that it held a ground wire prong. No online friends globally. “At least the laptop will still work.” Strangely, Dell made their laptops with two prongs, yet she had the feeling that Gramps was not hooked up to the net. There was a long heavy sigh from Abigail.<br><br>She left the room then, disgruntled at her findings, and she went down the stairs, her feet thumping against the oak, to find her grandfather. Through the hall she wandered, stopping occasionally to look at a picture of Mildred but never did she linger long enough to stare, and finally she called out to him. “Gran--”&nbsp; <em>Could she call him Grandfather?</em> She nipped her tongue. It seemed too strange despite the blood relation. “Sir, if you could tell me where the cleaning supplies are, and the vacuum, it would be appreciated.”&nbsp; <em>And maybe a box to get rid of the damned dolls.</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kasen03</strong> on <strong>31-01-2009, 21:04:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He would be found down in a sitting room.&nbsp; Music was warbling from a turntable.. one of the kind with the honest to god large curved horns and a wind at the side.&nbsp; He was looking at an old book through a hand-magnifying glass.&nbsp; The room was dark, but a table lamp lit up the space he was working in.<br><br>He turned to look with a sour look, his glasses falling from his nose.<br><br>"Cleaning Supplies?&nbsp; I don't know.&nbsp; There might be something in the closet by the kitchen.&nbsp; A pail and a mop.&nbsp; That's a good idea.. you could make yourself useful." he looks beyond her.."I think it hasn't been since that damn woman from the hospital left that this place had a good cleaning..you can start with the halls.&nbsp; I don't have any of those new-fangled vacuums.. they pollute the air don't you know.&nbsp; No.. you'll clean the good honest way.. with your arms."<br><br>He peered at her over his glasses.&nbsp; "You know.. that clothing.. it's not fit for a woman at all.&nbsp; You look like a boy.&nbsp; You should be able to find some clothing upstairs in some of of my daughter's dressers.. " he lifts his hand and waves the glass to dismiss.&nbsp; "Go.. go.. you are disturbing me.&nbsp; I don't want to be disturbed until dinner is ready."&nbsp; And then he turns back.. resetting his glasses and looking at the album again.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>31-01-2009, 21:58:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				“Oh for goodness sake!&nbsp; How do I possibly look like a boy? I'm in a sundress, and,” Abigail looked at her chest, and grew quiet. The swell of her pert youthful bosom that was mostly covered by the navy material hinted at peeping out for a glimpse of cleavage; her skin was a pale despite the tan. “And I do have breasts, and I am in sandals. How much more feminine do you want me to be? Dress in pink frills? Grow my hair long? Wear a string of pearls?” Exasperated, the girl was at the old man who buried himself in days of yore given what looked to be a gramophone he was listening to; the music, however, played perfectly.<br><br>“And dinner to be made by me?” Abigail folded her arms wondering if her 'care' for him was only going to be that of a servant. Luckily, she excelled at cooking and enjoyed it in so much that she applied to colleges and universities for culinary courses. “I'm a stranger to your house let alone kitchen. Do you even have groceries in the refrigerator that are suitable to cook with? I don't do prepared boxed foods, or junk foods and I do not eat fast foods. It isn't healthy. If it isn't fresh, it isn't good for you, and the quality is poor and,” The girl grew silent and walked away from the sitting room where her Grandfather buried himself in a book. Her purposeful strides took her to the kitchen where she opened the refrigerator door. <br><br>There was another sigh from Abigail. “We need to go grocery shopping!” Abigail bellowed out as she sniffed the cream and frowned as she poured it down the sink. “Or you can give me access to your car, and I can go grocery shopping.” <em>Unlikely.</em><br><br>“And no vacuum. Who the hell doesn't own a vacuum in this day and age?” She muttered to herself, and began to open up cupboards to familiarize herself with the kitchen. The layout was fine, but the organization of the dishes, and the pantry, she knew she would have to adjust.<br><br>“And I'm making an appointment for you to get your eyes examined!” She bellowed from the kitchen once more. “Mistaking me for a boy. Christ!” The words were muttered under her breath. “Living with you, old man, is going to be a chore.”<br><br><em>How the hell am I to endear myself to him?</em> 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kasen03</strong> on <strong>31-01-2009, 23:56:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jacob had tried to ignore it.. the outbursts.. all the muttering..all the .. the.. NOISES coming from the kitchen.&nbsp; Then she started calling to him.. cackling like a crow trying to beg for attention.<br><br>Closing his book he stood up.&nbsp; 'Children never learn...' he thinks as she continues calling.. seemingly whatever comes to her mind.&nbsp; He starts walking to the kitchen..as he does so reaching down to undo his belt.&nbsp; He slips the supple leather from it's wrap around his waist and then pauses in the doorframe.<br><br>Abi turns to see her Grandfather standing with a very cross expression in the door.&nbsp; He has the cane, but he's standing up to his full attention, and his face looks fuming.<br><br>"You children don't ever change.&nbsp; You will NOT use such language in my house." he snaps the leather down with a loud CRACK against his hands - and even though he's an old man..he doesn't even flinch.<br><br>"You will NOT talk back to me.. or any elder.. EVER.&nbsp; You will NEVER presume to know to lecture me.&nbsp; And you will NOT make demands.. not while you're under this roof." He starts to walk into the kitchen, reaching to pull out a small stool that's been placed against the wall. "Come here and bend over.. hands on the stool.&nbsp; You should know this well.. your mother spent MANY days here for her saucy mouth and her carrying on like a bordello trollop."<br><br>He reaches to grab her as she gets close, pulling her over to the stool. "Now lift your.. .blast.. why do girls these days such short skirts?&nbsp; In my day.. a lady was proper.&nbsp; Bend over, and lift that skirt..&nbsp; And ATTCH.. No lip.. or you'll get twice as many belts."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>01-02-2009, 17:54:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Abigail's stomach knotted, an anxiety twisting her innards, and a sickening flush of heat melted through her to make the girl feel nauseated as she not only saw her grandfather in the doorway, but heard his words and watched his movement in the kitchen. The snap of the belt, the strike against his own hand, made her flinch, made her tense, and she shook her head in protest.<br><br>The era was not the 50s or the 60s or whenever the belt was last used to punish children, and Abigail was quite aware of the laws protecting children...that and her own parents never punished her physically. Her father, in fact, doted on her when he could, and her mother was dismissive of her behaviour, and occasionally took her platinum credit card from her. Rare that was, however, and the solution was normally to keep Abigail at school for the entirety of the year. <br><br>“NO!” Abigail bellowed out as her high heeled feet slid along the smooth floor when her grandfather took her by the arm and dragged her to the stool. “Please!” She begged as she squirmed and wiggled in his grasp. “I'm sorry! I am! I'll behave! I won't swear or use foul language or talk back! Please, Grand-père, please!”&nbsp; The girl begged with sincerity, and fright echoed in her voice, made it falter and tremble.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kasen03</strong> on <strong>01-02-2009, 18:08:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"You're damn right right you will learn." he pulled with her.. fighting her over towards the stool. "There is only one way children learn..and that's with a strap across their ass.&nbsp; Your mother took much time to learn.. always sneaking out..thinking I didn't know what she would .. hearing people in the town talk about her." <br><br>He manages to get her over to the stool.. and then starts to bend her over.. "Children these days are too soft.. You think you're complaining now.. just youse wait until I have tanned your ass.. That will teach you to speak out"<br><br>Still fighting with her.. hell this was breaking a number of laws.. abuse.. hell.. sexual abuse.&nbsp; Once she's forced over the stool his rough hands pull her skirt up over her back.. and then the same hand reaches to pull down her underwear.<br><br>"Pathetic.. look at these underwear.. no respectable girl would wear underwear like this.&nbsp; I've seen underwear like this when I was back in the Navy.. on shore leave in Amsterdam..." he pushes her underwear down..exposing her rump.. shifting to lean weight on her back to hold her down.. his hands readying the belt. "And you know what THOSE women were doing.. Well.. let me tell you.. "
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>02-02-2009, 01:16:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				There was no feebleness within Abigail's Grandfather. His hands manipulated her thin lithe body expertly, and those same hands held strength and vigour, and burned with heat which penetrated through her clothes and washed upon her skin as the pair struggled for superiority. <br><br>Abigail lost.<br><br>She found herself stooped, bent over, and all the while she carefully listened to her Grandfather's words despite her yelps of protestation. There was an odd realization that this was not about her, not about Abigail, but about unfinished business between her mother and her Grandfather, and that realization made her stop fidgeting. Instead, she stared at her hands and wondered if she took the abuse, if she took the one beating, if it would mend the bad blood between her mother and Grandfather. <em>Life would be easier here</em>. <br><br>There was a mental pause in her thoughts. <em>But what if it doesn't?</em> Abigail knew she could always report him to the authorities, yet too, that would permanently end all ties with her mother's relations. Her mother would loathe her, too. It was not a good situation to be in, Abigail finally realized, and she vowed there and then to watch her tone of voice, and her words while she lived with her Grandfather.<br><br>She gasped as her little skirt was lifted, and the Calvin Klein panty, a white little thing, was exposed to her Grandfather. Abigail flushed pink with embarrassment, humiliation, and a heat flushed through her. Her teeth, her jaw, tightened, ground together as he insinuated that she had promiscuous behaviour. <em>A transference of words meant for mother</em>, Abigail believed. There was another gasp from her as her Grandfather tugged the little underwear down to completely expose her buttocks to him, and the pinkness in her cheeks blossomed to cover the entirety of her face. It was with fortune that she did not realize that her virginal nether lips, skin that was delicate and smooth, shyly peeped at her Grandfather.<br><br>A hand covered her bottom and with tears glistening in her eyes, the girl peered over her shoulder. “I haven't been with a boy!” She sniffled out in a whisper. A hot tear slipped free from her dark eyes, and she turned to look away accepting her fate. “Not like that.” Why see needed to tell him, she did not know, but there had been an urge to confess her chastity; it made her different from her mother.&nbsp; She wiped the tear free from her cheek only to have another one dart down and replenish the dampness on her face. She bit her lip to stop herself from outright crying considering the strapping had not begun, and she closed her eyes in fear.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kasen03</strong> on <strong>03-02-2009, 01:13:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jacob's hand reached to move aside the hand that Abi reached back and then pinned it down at her side.. her other hand free to wipe the tears falling.<br><br>"You fuss.. alot more then your good-for-nothing mother ever did.&nbsp; Hell.. I swear she looked forward to her straps.. it was the price she payed for running around like a little hussy." <br><br>His hand reached down to squeeze Abi's ass as she pleaded with him. "No?&nbsp; Not been with a boy.&nbsp; What do you take me for.. a fool?&nbsp; I see your television shows.. your MTV.. your facebooks.." <br><br>He pulled her arm which was being pinned up and looked at her fingers. "I bet you don't smoke..either do you?&nbsp; Ooh no.. you're mama's good little girl.. well I'm not fooled.. I know your mama was a little trollop.. and you are a little mouthy irrespectful trollop as well." he shifted to pin her arm again.. retaking the belt and focusing his grip.<br><br>"Count"<br><br>Suddenly the belt comes down.. FAST AND HARD.<br><br>The crack is like a gunshot.. and then the pain hits.. like a punch.&nbsp; Lucky it's the fleshy part of her ass..or it would have hurt more.. the momentary pain fading to a dull warm throbbing.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>03-02-2009, 01:59:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Abigail was not going to deny that she smoked or drank for she had for years. Common it was in Quebec to indulge in those habits, and as for boys, certainly she had kissed more than one, touched them sexually, masturbated them, yet only with her current boyfriend, Michel, did she go down on her hands and knees ... But she remained a virgin despite Michel's attempts at seduction.<br><br>Wide eyed, the girl became as the supple leather curled around her bare skin, lashed at it unmercifully, and unleashed a scorching heat onto her flesh. The pain stunned her as did the loudness of the single stroke, and it was accompanied by a cry that escaped her pink glossy lips. She tensed, the entirety of her body, and she held her breath as if it could dull the throbbing that ached across the roundness of her&nbsp; shapely firm muscles.<br><br>In a trembling voice, one that was now meek and strained from sobbing, Abigail said one simple word. “One.”&nbsp; Drawing in ragged breaths, she had to wonder what number she was doomed to count to, and it only increased the anxiety that gripped her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kasen03</strong> on <strong>03-02-2009, 03:14:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jacob was about to chastise her, but then Abi called out.<br><br>He gave no sound of acknowledgment.. merely continued.. the belt coming down.. again and again.. each time seeming harder, and yet as the blows rained down Abigail could feel the pattern of momentary lashing pain fading to a throbbing warmth flow through her.<br><br>Her ass was criss-crossed with the angry red welts, the edge where the belt hit raised slightly from the impact.&nbsp; Her perfect skin bruised - purple and red from the harsh punishment.<br><br>8... 9... 10.<br><br>Then he stopped.&nbsp; His hand came down to cup her behind.. rubbing it.. soothing it.. his hand surprisingly soft and yet wrinkled.<br><br>"Now.. You will have learned your lesson.&nbsp; I would say I trust we won't need to do this again.. but you are your good-for-nothing mother's child..and I know you will not hold your tongue.. nor keep your skirt down.&nbsp; Next time I will not be so gentle with you."<br><br>His words are harsh..but his hands gently helped her stand up.&nbsp; When she reached for her underwear he looked at her. "I.. don't think that would be a good idea.&nbsp; Your tush is .. abit sore.&nbsp; I will permit you to kneel for supper.. and not force you to sit.&nbsp; Don't worry.. it should feel better by tomorrow."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>03-02-2009, 03:59:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				“Thank you,” Abigail sobbed out, her voice trembling, her entire body trembling from the punishment inflicted upon her slight body. “Sir.” It was added as a last thought, and although she thanked him, she was uncertain as to why. She had not wanted to be strapped, that Abigail knew, but whether or not it was due to the old man stopping at ten strokes, or trying to soothe her skin, or allowing her to roam underwear free or even to kneel for dinner, she didn't know. It just seemed appropriate. <br><br>Her thin hands, wet from wiping tears free from her cheeks, her face, crinkled her little panty in her hand, but not before she timidly stepped away from her Grandfather. She removed herself from him, not wanting him to touch her...<br><br>She wanted Michel. He knew how to calm her, how to soothe her, yet he was spending the summer in Montreal with his parents, and Montreal seemed a universe away.<br><br>Abigail wiped her nose on her panty as she did her best to stifle the tears and her sniveling. Her gaze never met that of the man who stood before her, but instead, she stared at the stool, and the wetness on the floor, the puddle of tears. <br><br>“May I be excused?” She asked, the words barely whispered and it was only then that she dared to meet his line of sight. Her dark eyes were rimmed with glossy wet tears, and the once perfect cosmetics were smudged and marred the skin around her eyes into blackness as if bruised and battered.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kasen03</strong> on <strong>04-02-2009, 00:18:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jacob looked at her.. she was standing now.. properly chastised.. holding her panties after she had used them to wipe her face.&nbsp; Her head lowered.. a proper stance.<br><br>"You may.. although your chores remain.&nbsp; The hallways, and I expect dinner soon.&nbsp; And no more lip.. do you understand me?"&nbsp; His voice didn't need to carry a tone.&nbsp; His actions had done enough to show that he was not to be trifled with.<br><br>Jacob then turned, pulling his belt on, and retrieving his cane started to slowly walk out of the kitchen.&nbsp; He returned to his study, the entire time holding his hand.. thinking about what it felt like to give the strapping.&nbsp; It had been years for him.. but the emotions came back to him.. closing his eyes he could imagine his wife.. and before her his pets.. no.. that was all before.. when he was young.<br><br>For a moment he thought about the equipment which was all locked away in the basement.. about the contacts he used to have.<br><br>Settling down in his heavy chair, he returns to looking through the old photo albums.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>04-02-2009, 05:58:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				All the while her grandfather spoke, addressed her, granted her permission to be excused, Abigail stood&nbsp; before him and she nodded her head rather demurely at the acknowledgement of her chores.<br><br>All Abigail had wanted to do previously was tidy her room, her mother's old room, but that would wait until later in the night. What she would cook for dinner, it too was questionable given the quick survey of the contents of the refrigerator.<br><br>She sniffled. She drew in a ragged breath, and she did not move what-so-ever until her Grandfather had left the room. His form, she noted: the smooth agile movement of his arm as he slid the belt back around his waistline, yet not a word she would say, and her mind was void of all thought save not to be beaten by him again. Only after he left did, after he dismissed his presence from her, did the girl take leave to go to her room and examine her bottom; the flesh was well striped, welted with purple hues, and it felt scorched. Her slender hands sought to rub the sore flesh, and as she did, tears washed down her cheeks and she found herself sobbing, uncontrollably.<br><br>Minutes would pass to an hour, and after Abigail calmed, she went downstairs where she would scrub the front the front halls without hesitancy, and afterwards, when she found herself preparing a menu for dinner, she made her Grandfather tea. <br><br>The girl did not ask for entry into the sitting room, but she silently appeared near him; the tea tray was put on a side tray, and without looking at him, she poured him a cup. “I believe the cream has gone off, and groceries will need to be bought tomorrow morning, but there is milk if you take milk in your tea.” Her voice was quiet in the silent room, and she glimpsed at him. “as well as sugar or honey if you prefer.” She stared at the steam that rose from the cup, and awaited for his word before she made the cup of tea to his liking, and before she offered it to him.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kasen03</strong> on <strong>04-02-2009, 13:20:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Black is fine.&nbsp; When we were in the trenches in Germany.. we didn't have any sugar or honey or cream.. " he glances up.. "but a warm tea always got us through the night."<br><br>He gently set his magnifying glass down, reaching not for the tea, but for his grand-daughter.&nbsp; "We shall go into town tomorrow.&nbsp; I suspect your ass is too sore tonight to take the short drive into town.&nbsp; And what of you.. are you better?&nbsp; Have you learned your place?" his hand moves up to her chin.. his fingers holding her.<br><br>"ooh.. I suspect right now you have.. but if you are anything like your good-for-nothing mother..as the bruises fade..so will your discipline.&nbsp; It was a constant routine with her.. to keep her in line.&nbsp; I hope it will not be the same with you."<br><br>His hand dropped to take the tea.. he took a sip then stood up. "Stay there."&nbsp; He disappeared down the hall then returned.. holding something in his hand..<br><br>He sat again, settling back. The tin was old..sortof the type that would hold some sortof cream or Vaseline.&nbsp; "Okay..over my lap..let's see what sort of damage I did..." he looked up as if this was perfectly normal.. "Come come.. you think I've not seen a naked bottom before.. I tanned your mother and aunts hide so often.. I'd know her tuckus better then I knew her face."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>04-02-2009, 14:25:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Abigail guessed that his question on her state of being, her wellness, to be rhetorical and she held her tongue, but before she could slip away and be by herself once more, his large hand cupped her chin. She was forced to look at him, and she found it uncomfortable for not only were they blood relations, but relations of the opposite gender, decades apart, and strangers yet the old man made himself familiar with Abigail&nbsp; He had proven that by strapping her, and the worry of her physical state afterwards, and it all made her weary and hesitant because she too believed it would not be the last. <br><br>The girl stayed by the side of the table when he asked her to, and remained while he disappeared; the tea she placed on the table and she moved the magnifying glass and book so that if it spilled, they would not be in ruins. On his return, she peered at the ointment tin; the label was worn and despite knowing it may help her skin, Abigail almost fussed at the request of his aid. She simply did not want to be bare bottom and over his knee, not out of fear of being struck again for she believed he wouldn't, but because she was unused to a man seeing her partially naked; Michel, even, had only see glimpses of her body, and had only stroked her underneath clothing. Modesty set in, as well as humiliation, but she did not want to prove the old man wrong by not 'learning her place'.&nbsp; She bent to his will, and Abigail found herself draped over his lap, and without being asked, she lifted her small skirt to expose her nakedness to him.<br><br>“It won't sting, will it?” Abigail asked, and she peered over her shoulder to look up at her grandfather. Her face had been washed, free now of all cosmetics, and although still pretty, naturally attractive, there was an air of innocence about her. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kasen03</strong> on <strong>05-02-2009, 00:59:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jacob was impressed by Abi.&nbsp; It was clear in her expression that she did not look like she wanted to, but at the order Abigail approached and folded herself over his lap.&nbsp; And then she lifted the skirt.<br><br>He saw that she had not attempted to replace the underwear..her ass was bare.. red and welted as he had left it.<br><br>"Not very much.&nbsp; It will be cool.. and soothing.&nbsp; Just close your eyes child.. I've done this before.. many many times."<br><br>He opened the tin, taking out just the barest bit of the medicated cream and his hand started to work on her behind.&nbsp; His fingers were gentle, but they were thorough.&nbsp; And he wasn't just rubbing the cream in..he continued to rub her behind..his fingers squeezing.. soothing the sore bruises.. fingertips tracing the welts..<br><br>It was so utterly wrong..and yet.. putting that out of one's mind..it felt good.. soothing.. warm.. even slightly arousing.&nbsp; The cream was cool at first..then warmed up... or was that her behind itself.<br><br>Jacob eventually started humming to himself as he continued rubbing her behind..his free hand reaching to sip the tea..and then returning to his picture book.. one hand just absently stroking and squeezing Abi's bare ass.. fingertips exploring every extent..pushing into her crack..down to the bottom swells..nearly tracing the crack towards her pussy..&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>05-02-2009, 02:24:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Abigail's hands rested on the floor to support her body slightly, yet secured and snug she was upon the old man's lap. On hearing his words, she felt somewhat reassured that the ointment would not sting, at least not too badly, and she closed her eyes as requested.<br><br>At first, the ointment was cool against her skin, and to a degree, it was reminiscent of mint; the cooling sensation, the tingles, but as it was worked into the bruised and welted flesh, it warmed. It was not uncomfortable, and Abigail had no idea if it was suppose to feel warm, or if the ointment became that way because her skin was welted and angry, or if it was caused by the natural heat in her Grandfather's hands and fingers. All the same, it felt soothing, and her body went limp, fell into a state of relaxation, as her sore muscles were stroked and massaged, yet alert she became when thick fingers roamed into her cleft.<br><br>Abi turned to look at her Grandfather. A cup of tea he held in his free hand, and she watched him drink the hot steaming liquid, turn his attention to the book, and all the while his fingers seemingly explored. Had he not been occupied by the folio he was reading, Abigail would have been uncomfortable for his fingers were too inquisitive, curious, but as it were, the touch seemed innocent enough. A blush set into her face then, one that made the bridge of her nose pink, her round cheeks blossom into brightness, and all because a trickle of guilt set within her. There was guilt in thinking her Grandfather would abuse her, and guilt at the slight enjoyment that she received from the massage.<br><br>“I should make dinner for us, Grandpa.” Abigail whispered, not wishing to interrupt him, and yet she was unfamiliar with the kitchen and needed at least an hour or so of preparation time.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kasen03</strong> on <strong>05-02-2009, 13:21:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It took a moment for him to respond.. as if he was finishing the mental thought of where he was before acknowledging her question.. the entire time his hand continued stroking it's intimate caress.<br><br>"Do you know how many times.. after spanking.. your mother lay like this?&nbsp; At times.. I suspected... she would misbehave for the treatment I would grant her.&nbsp; A way she could get.. some time with me without her brothers and sisters around.&nbsp; You would never do that.. would you?"<br><br>His fingers continued their most intimate caress..a fingertip brushing over her pucker.. in one way it was soothing.. on the other.. it was so terribly forward.. it was beyond words.<br><br>Then.. he abruptly stopped.. <br><br>"Yes.. dinner would be nice.&nbsp; And be warned.. that may feel good, but your rump is sore.. no panties.. and you would be best to kneel and eat your supper.. not sit."&nbsp; He helps pull her skirt down, and shifting to give her room to stand momentarily puts his magnifying glass down.&nbsp; As she gets up he holds out his empty tea-cup. "Tea was delightful.&nbsp; You are a quick learner.." and then his attention is back to the picture book.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>05-02-2009, 16:39:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				“I think I would rather avoid earning another strapping from you, if possible, Sir.” Abigail commented, her words true, and she turned to study the floor once more while the last of the soothing caresses glided over her welted and scorched skin. Only when she felt a finger touch a most private part, the puckering of skin that had always remained hidden from the world, did she gasp with surprise, but not a word she said for the attention stopped. <br><br><em>Sore ass. No underwear. No sitting at dinner.</em>&nbsp; Abigail registered in her mind, and as she felt the skirt hide her marked skin, she slowly rose to her feet. “Thank you.” The words were awkwardly said by her in regard to the ointment spread upon her skin, and too, in regard to the caresses and she thought nothing more of it.<br><br>Her fingers met those of her Grandfather's as they wrapped around the empty tea cup, and she strode over to the tray where she poured him another cup. “I can learn, if motivated or desired.” She told him, and placed the full cup of black tea down on the table but away from his books. “I'll call you when dinner is ready, and hopefully in an hour's time. I just have to familiarize myself with the kitchen.”<br><br>As Abigail began to walk away, she turned to look at her Grandfather once more. “Are there any foods that you do not like? Or that you have allergies to?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kasen03</strong> on <strong>05-02-2009, 23:41:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				His fingers touched hers.. and lingered.&nbsp; He watched her pour the tea, and then return with it.<br><br>He looked up at her.. then down to take the tea.&nbsp; He sipped it and set it to the side, returning to his picture book.&nbsp; It was a nice content feeling.. one again that he'd not felt in a while.<br><br>"Mm.. yes.. that would be lovely.." he said absently.. his attention down.. then to the question..<br><br>"Oh..you know what I like.&nbsp; Don't worry.. you'll feel it if I'm displeased.. now stop interrupting me.." his attention downward.. it was easy to imagine he's not even sure of who he's talking to - it could have just easily been his wife..or even his daughter then his grand-daughter.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>06-02-2009, 15:09:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was not the answer Abigail had wanted to receive and her brow furrowed as she tried to puzzle out what the old man would like to eat, and what he didn't, and since he put in no request, and since he was not cooking, no choice he had in the matter. Regardless of that fact, if she made the wrong decision ...<br>the old man, in a round about fashion, did have a say, so it seemed.<br><br>An old fashion dinner then, Abigail thought, for an old fashioned man. She looked at the chicken breasts, thinned them out some with a meat mallet and decided to roast the meat into a succulent tenderness. It would be accompanied by roasted potatoes and carrots, gravy, and a cranberry sauce. As the kitchen began to heat, the girl opened the heavy wooden back door so that only the screen door separated the outside world from the one within; cool air rushed in as early evening was approaching. That air felt wonderful upon her warming skin, and as dinner was still cooking, she stepped out onto the porch.<br><br>Abigail fished out her cigarettes and lighter from her purse, lit one up, and as she relaxed with her indulgence, the girl pulled out her cell phone. She decided to call Michel. The phone was flipped up, a button pressed, and then she stared at the blank screen. There was no reception. “You must be God damn well joking.” She uttered under her breath and snapped the cell phone shut. She chucked it back into her purse. <br><br><em>How am I to approach the old man about using his phone to call Michel? He already thinks of me as a whore, or hussy, or trollop...</em><br><br>Disgusted, Abigail crushed out her cigarette, popped a piece of mint gum in her mouth and went inside to scrub her hands so the scent of smoke would not be heavy upon her. She would serve dinner within ten minutes.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kasen03</strong> on <strong>06-02-2009, 23:25:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As he continued looking through his picture books he could start to smell the dinner cooking.&nbsp; Mm.. such a lovely smell.. a homebody smell.&nbsp; His attention shifted to just enjoy it.. his hands coming to rest on the pages as he leant back in his chair.<br><br>Then.. little intrusions into the relaxation.&nbsp; The faint but pungent odor of cigarette smoke.&nbsp; He frowned, brought out of his revere.&nbsp; It only came and went, but the faint smell got stronger.<br><br>"Damn smoking hussey" he said aloud.&nbsp; "The only women who smoke are trollops." his memory goes back to the war - back to a back-street around the red-light area in Amsterdam.. and the very assorted type of 'women' that he encountered there.&nbsp; The deliciousness of the dinner is tainted now.. his thoughts growing more and more angsting about his grand-daughter.. his flesh.. smoking.&nbsp; Very chauvanistic of him..but a proper woman didn't smoke.<br><br>Reaching for his cane, he lifted himself up and hobbled towards the kitchen.&nbsp; The occasional waft of cool air came in.&nbsp; He turned the corner and watched, seeing the back door open.. just the screen door keeping out the winter chill.&nbsp; He watched her through the door crush out the cigerette.. toss the cell back in her purse and fish out some gum to chew while she came in, not noticing the silent form.. and washing her hands.<br><br>"Oh..please... why don't you open a window while you're at it?" he scowled.&nbsp; "And you can hang some red drapes.. that would be appropriate.. wouldn't it?"&nbsp; his tone made his annoying mood sound worse - the sortof person who sounded upset and stern even if he wasn't.. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>07-02-2009, 06:02:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Abigail looked puzzled at her Grandfather's words, and she was not even going to pretend to understand the meaning behind them for she thought of it as pointless, but instead she thoroughly dried her hands and offered him a smile. <em>Was he ever not dour?</em> “Our dinner is finished. Would you care to dine in here,” Abigail asked, indicating to the kitchen table and chairs as she removed the hot roasting pan from the oven. “Or would you prefer the dining room? My guess would be the dining room, but my guess may be wrong.”<br><br>The roasted meat was placed upon a platter, the juices running clear, and hot as Abigail began to arrange the vegetables beside the meat. “Do you have a preference for where you would like to take your evening meal, Grandfather?” She asked as she flitted around the kitchen as if it was a natural environment for her; she stood on tiptoe to read the gravy boat, her skirt rising to reveal her upper thighs and the bottom curve of her reddened buttocks. With the glass gravy boat secure, Abigail poured the thick hot liquid within it and then she went about the chore to find the appropriate table settings. <br><br>Tomorrow, besides going into town to buy groceries, Abigail swore to rearrange the kitchen to her liking, and too, planning the garden. Easily they could have fresh vegetables and herbs with a little physical effort, labour, and Abigail had always found it relaxing to putter around in a garden.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kasen03</strong> on <strong>07-02-2009, 13:36:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He could see that she was ignoring his barbs.&nbsp; Typical of youth.<br><br>"Dining room is fine." he says, turning and walking out.<br><br>Dinner was a quiet affair.&nbsp; And true to his word, Abi's behind was far too tender for her to sit.. so to eat she had to kneel at the table.&nbsp; That seemed to cause abit of a whistful smile to Jacob.. and he glanced at her a couple times when he thought she wasn't watching.. his mind going back to long past times.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>08-02-2009, 17:01:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Dinner was far too heavy in Abigail's stomach for her liking; her meal preference was lighter, and she dreaded the idea of gaining weight. Perhaps swimming would be the solution given the fact that the area had several rivers, but whether or not any were used for swimming, Abigail didn't know. She recalled her mother speaking of strong currents, rivers flooding, but that was in the springtime, and months had passed since that season. <em>Maybe there is a community pool</em>. Abigail's nose wrinkled at the idea, but it was better then her becoming chubby and plump, and not agreeable to Michel's eyes or her own. Abigail poked her mashed potatoes with her fork, her slender fingers limply holding it as her thoughts roamed more to Michel.<br><br>School was over. June was upon them, almost July, and when she would see Michel next, Abigail didn't know. He had applied to universities overseas as well as in Montreal, and Quebec. It was unnerving to think of her two year relationship with the boy as gone, done and over with, for she didn't want that in so much that she too applied to the same universities as he, but too, she applied to Ottawa so that she could be near her Grandmother Laurent in Gatineau, and her one aunt in Chelsea: her father's family.<br><br>Kneeling at the table, she looked at the man who sat at the head, comfortably sitting and enjoying the food. “Sir, would it be possible for me to make a long distant call after dinner?” She asked, and placed her fork down. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kasen03</strong> on <strong>09-02-2009, 01:43:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jacob finished chewing, then swallowing his food, he set his fork and knife down, properly at their sides of the plate before turning to face Abigail.&nbsp; The entire action seemed as drawn out as possible, as if he was putting off having to answer.<br><br>His eyes looked at Abi where she knelt, as if speaking itself was out-of-turn.<br><br>"A <em>long-distance </em>call?&nbsp; Well.. I suppose that's to your good-for-nothing mother.&nbsp; Need to assure her that I'm not mistreating you.. or is it to tell her that it was a mistake you coming here and you'd want <em>me </em>to spend the money to send you back home." he didn't really give her a chance to answer.. just continuing as Abi opened her mouth.<br><br>"Fine.. yes.. you may.&nbsp; The telephone is in the study.&nbsp; Do not touch my books, or my cigars, or my brandy.&nbsp; And keep your call short - money does not grow on trees.. Just like your mother.. running off with that German." he shakes his head.. then his head lowers to the food.&nbsp; He picks up his fork and knife and then gestures. "You are only playing with your food.&nbsp; Go on.. eat.&nbsp; Or..if you don't.. " he trails that off.. as if correcting himself.. stopping himself from whatever threat would follow not finishing.&nbsp; Then Mom was always finicky like that.. always insisting that Abi finish what was on her plate.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>09-02-2009, 17:31:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Abigail looked at her food the entire time her grandfather addressed her, and she poked at her food as if it offended her, but she sunk her fork into the gravy drenched potatoes and devoured a bite. She washed it down with water, and then stole a glance at her grandfather who seemed to enjoy his meal.<br><br>“It isn't a call to my mother, I assure you,” Abigail confessed and wondered if she should tell him of her boyfriend or not, or if she should just call Michel collect or offer to pay for the phone call. She was confused of what to do, and say, but she felt compelled to say something, anything. “But if I did call my mother, why would she be under the impression that you would be mistreating me unless you mistreated her badly as a child or young woman? And if you did mistreat her, and I'm not suggesting you did, but do you seriously think she would allow me to live with you? I highly doubt it, but then again, people who do not have integrity do almost anything for money.” <br><br>Abigail looked at him and took another bite of her potatoes. She savoured the flavour before she continued with her thoughts. “The question is: do <em>you</em> think your daughter, my mother, has integrity? I know the answer to that question, but do you?” She arched her eyebrow knowing he would believe she was speaking out of term or disrespectful of her 'elder', her mother, yet she could not outright be honest with him as to why she was living with him, or could she? It made her look at her plate, and the food that still remained on it. She poked at the roasted chicken.<br><br>There were situations of being too honest, Abigail thought, and she shook her head to disregard her mother, and the idea of trying to swindle the old man out of his money. “I want to phone my boyfriend, Michel, who resides with his parents in Montreal, and tell him that I arrived here safely, that my cell phone doesn't work, and offer him your phone number so that he can call me.” She smirked for a moment, but it was an attempt to hide worry that reflected honestly in her dark eyes...concern over a boy liking her, loving her. <em>Would Michel call her? Would he make the effort, or simply move on with his life seeing how in September they may be at separate and long distant universities</em>. She sniffled at the thought unaware that a tear escaped her eye.“Would that be agreeable with you?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kasen03</strong> on <strong>09-02-2009, 23:08:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Mistreat your good-for-nothing mother?&nbsp; Hardly.&nbsp; Not that it would have made any difference.. You could beat that girl within an inch of her life, and the next day she'd still sauce back at you, or wear those .. those.. outfits.. you know.. the sort that only the prostitutes would wear."<br><br>He continued to eat..obviously liking the dinner, and glancing and motioning for Abi to eat from time to time.<br><br>"Integrity?&nbsp; Your mother?&nbsp; Hell know.&nbsp; She's an opportunistic tramp.&nbsp; The way she thought that marrying that.. German.. would upset me.. or when he left her..how she tried to get all pitiably.. no..I'd not fall for it.&nbsp; Or begging me to take you on for a summer.." he scoffs.. setting his utensils down to clean his lips with a handkerchief.. "I know that Terrence or Betty would have taken you.. but no.. you didn't need a place to stay... did you? Of course not.. this is all part of your good-for-nothing mother's scheme." he rolled his eyes and sat back.. "At least she's creative about it..not like your aunts and uncles.&nbsp; &nbsp;Go on..eat up.." <br><br>He returned to eating, listening to exactly who she was calling.&nbsp; The fork dropped..making a loud clatter on the plate.<br><br>"Ooh.. your <em>BOYFRIEND </em>is it? Montreal... I see the fruit doesn't fall too far from the tree.. darn French.&nbsp; They were useless in the great war, and I have no time for them now.&nbsp; Your damn cell-contraption doesn't work.. so you want to run up my phone bill on your juvenile cat-calls?&nbsp; In my day.. a gentleman would court a lady.. but I can see those days are long gone." he utterly ignored Abi's reaction..setting his knife down and standing up.<br><br>"Go ahead.. no one would say that I treated my own thankless granddaughter poorly.&nbsp; Go and bleed me dry.. make your call to this.. French Boy... the phone is in the study.." he stands up, throwing his napkin on the floor and grabbing his cane walks out.. ignoring the tear and any hurt feelings." 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>10-02-2009, 00:08:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Abigail was trembling when her Grandfather walked out of the dining room, and part of it was due to the relief of him knowing the truth, what her mother was scheming, who she was going to call, and the other was his stern words, his sharp reaction. There seemed to be a mixture of hesitant permission, and with that, tears flowed down Abigail's face once more. A thin hand wiped the tears away, those that stained her cheeks temporarily, and she rose to her feet so that she could clear the table.<br><br>All of her Grandfather's meal was eaten, and hers was barely touched. Later, when she was calm, when she had spoken to Michel, she would eat and more than likely devour every morsel before she washed the dishes. Now, however, she set the fine porcelain on the kitchen counter by the sink, and she then raced to the study. Her feet, the quick steps, padded hard against the hardwood, and the noise echoed in the house, yet when she reached the study, Abigail found no telephone on the desk. She was perplexed, baffled, and she sought the light, an old fashion switch where a dark button was pressed inwards instead of a flick of a switch upwards. <br><br>As Abigail looked around the room, she saw no phone. Her once full lips pressed into a thin line as her heart became heavy with despair. “What the--” She ended her words there, wanting to say 'fuck' but didn't; her bottom still smarted, and felt still warm from the strapping. She slowly walked around the room, and then she saw it, a black candlestick phone with a dial dating back to the <em>what? Maybe 20s or 30s?</em>. With hesitancy, with the lack of knowledge for the lack of technology, Abigail picked up the receiver and began to dial. <em> 1 450...</em><br><br>She looked at the door to the study which she had left open and frowned. She didn't think, however, that she'd have much privacy given the old man's attitude about men.<br><br>The phone was ringing, and when she heard Michel's voice, Abigail squeaked with excitement and knelt by the table so she could talk into the candlestick ...<br><br>“...Michel, no. You don't understand. This isn't like my home. You shouldn't come to visit unless you are really really prepared for an inquisition...” The telephone conversation lasted twenty minutes, with Abigail giving Michel her grandfather's number.<br><br>She went to the kitchen to wash the dishes, and eat the remains of her dinner. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kasen03</strong> on <strong>10-02-2009, 05:32:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jacob tried to go about his business.. but his routine had been interupted.&nbsp; One may say that having the nice meal was a bonus - something missing in his life.. but he heard her slip into his study.&nbsp; He heard the squeal.. and it grated on him - he was not allowed to go into his study.. he would permit her privacy.<br><br>Minutes seemed like long hours, and he grew more impatient.. more sour.&nbsp; He imagined his daughter.. setting up their next triest.. about down at the legion hall.. when the other men would talk about what they heard their sons boasting about his daughters.. He scowled more at the memory.<br><br>Then.. she ran past.&nbsp; Probably not noticing him hovering in the alcove in the hall.&nbsp; She seemed positively floating.&nbsp; Silly tramp.. Hussy.<br><br>He scowled and stalked into the study, pulling out an old war picture book of his old war buddies, and reaching his magnifying glass.<br><br>The phone rang.. a quiet uninterupting ring.&nbsp; He didn't like anything, and that included his phone, disturbing his house.&nbsp; And if he wasn't within ear-shot.. then whoever was calling would have to call back.&nbsp; He picked up the receiver, and in his head pictured all the boys from his daughter's youth.&nbsp; The French accent made his inside curdle.<br><br>Ten minutes later he stomped into the kitchen, his cane heavy on the floor.<br><br>"Some stupid French boy called.&nbsp; Migal or something.&nbsp; He was asking about directions.." he gives Abi a look.&nbsp; "I gave him directions all right.. hopefully put a proper fear of god into the spineless French bastard too." he scowled.. then reached to knock her plate aside with the cane. <br><br>"No.. you didn't eat your dinner properly.. you can go to bed hungry.&nbsp; Discipline.&nbsp; You will thank me when you are older.&nbsp; Now.. go!"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>10-02-2009, 16:35:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				There were not many dishes to wash from two people, not when Abigail roasted the vegetables with the meat, and the girl was just drying the last of the dishes when her attention was drawn to her grandfather.<br><br>Thump. Thump. Thump. The cane landed heavily upon the floor, and the old man stood near her. <br><br>The gurgle of sudsy water could be heard as it drained from the sink, and Abigail simply looked at her grandfather when he told her of Michel. She had pleaded for him not to come, embarrassed by her grandfather's chauvinistic views, his words regarding her and her mother, and the idea that Michel would find out about her strapping.<br><br><em>Hell, the old man might even beat Michel too.</em> Abigail blinked dumbly at the very thought. “I didn't want him to come.” The words were said softly, truthfully, but Michel was brash at times, determined, but too, Abigail was certain that he never met a person like her Grandfather. <em>Fear of God put in Michel, more than likely.</em><br><br>The plate was then knocked aside, and with her dismissal, Abigail went to her room to clean during the evening hours. She would dust, sweep, squeal at the few bugs and spiders she found tucked away in hidden cracks and corners, and eventually she made her bed. The dolls, she put away in the old oak armoire until she would find a box in the future. <br><br>It was only eight o'clock in the evening, the sun still up, and Abigail had nothing leisurely and relaxing to do before bed. <em>And what a ridiculous hour to go to bed.</em> It was then that she looked at the photograph of her mother and the man that was still on the dresser, and she didn't know who the man was for seldom did she see photographs of men in her mother's past, but all the same she stuck her tongue out to them.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kasen03</strong> on <strong>13-02-2009, 13:16:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jacob listened to Abi putter around upstairs - the sounds of her discovering creepy crawlies and generally cleaning up.<br><br>He continued his regular evening routine, then around eight he starts to climb the staircase, ready to turn in for the night.&nbsp; He passes the room Abi was using, and notices the change.&nbsp; The most notable being the absence of the staring creepy dolls.&nbsp; He pauses in the door, watching Abi looking at the photograph.<br><br>"You mother always liked those dolls.. She'd not approve of you taking them down." his voice was soft.. not hard like earlier.<br><br>"I'm going to turn into bed.. are you going to turn in.. or will you be like your good-for-nothing mother and sneak downstairs to use the phone to call your.. " he twists his hand to gesture.. "your.. date.. that wussy french boy.&nbsp; Don't think I don't know what you do.. you are just like your mother.&nbsp; Go on then.. " He steps to the side, then continues to his room.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>16-02-2009, 17:00:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Abigail blinked twice at her Grandfather's words, and all she could do was shake her head rather dumbly instead of finding the words to say 'No, I'm not going to call'. She, of course, could have spent hours talking to <em>wussy French boy</em> as she did at home, or her Grandma's house, but she feared inclining a heavy bill on her Grandfather's telephone, that and it was too old fashioned for her.<br><br>She looked to the wardrobe where she had hid the dolls. <em>And they are staying there out of sight. Creepy damned things</em><br><br>“When I'm done cleaning the room and unpacking, perhaps even taking a bath or shower, I'll be going to bed,” Abigail hesitated at addressing him as Grandfather, and she almost said Sir, but her voice seemed so small in the quiet house that she said no more. Any earlier anger towards the old man for&nbsp; strapping her was subsided on hearing Michel's voice, but she had not forgiven him, not entirely, for it.<br><br>Tomorrow is a new day, she thought, and buying groceries, she looked forward too...just getting away from the house, the antiquity of it. Her Grandfather, though, seemed to be a one-of-a-kind antique unto himself and there was no escaping him, but perhaps he still had some youth in his heart or mind, or soul, but she would be hard pressed, she believed, in finding that aspect of him. She sighed and closed the bedroom door shutting herself into a prison of a room that once belonged to her mother.<br><br>"Tomorrow is a new day." She reassured herself, this time aloud.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kasen03</strong> on <strong>16-02-2009, 23:12:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jacob grunted at her statement.<br><br>"mm.. no shower.. I don't believe in 'em.&nbsp; The bath upstairs doesn't work.. " <br><br>He frowned.. "I'll start the stove.&nbsp; Just like your mother.. can't do nothing for yourself.." he turned and walked back to the stairs and back down.&nbsp; <br><br>It wasn't until later and alittle exploring that Abi could find out what that meant.&nbsp; There was indeed a tub upstairs.. and with the dust on it..it looks like it hasn't been cleaned in hears.&nbsp; And was just there for cosmetics.. the pipes long shut off.&nbsp; Downstairs, beyond the kitchen in the back summer kitchen there was an even older wrought iron stove.&nbsp; Several large copper kettles were on it.&nbsp; And in the center of the summer kitchen..with open windows on all sides looking out over the back fields and the Ottawa river below..was an antique claw-footed bath.&nbsp; The water had been added to it by hand.. heating it on the stove.&nbsp; There was even a towel left out..although Jacob was nowhere to be seen.&nbsp; It didn't make sense..after the cruel treatment and insisting that Abi clean and cook.. that he'd go through all the effort to make a bath for her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>17-02-2009, 00:38:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>How could a bath not work?</em> <br><br>Abigail was horrified at her findings, and as she stole silently into the summer kitchen, her jaw fell slack on seeing the old wood stove, and the claw foot bathtub with the slanted back, and ...<em>the old man has money so why doesn't he get the bathroom upstairs fixed?</em> Eyes were fixed on the glass windows that seemed to surround the claw foot tub, and had they neighbours, had Abigail been awkward about her body, she would never consider bathing in a, more or less, open room.<br><br>Her pyjamas, a white cotton tank top and pink cotton sleep pants, were pressed to her pert and youthful bosom while her cosmetics bag was clutched in her one hand; soap, lotions, oils, shampoo, it had all been stored in that one bag. In not seeing her Grandfather, aware that he gave her privacy, she placed her clothes and bag upon the stool.<br><br>As the stars were just beginning to gleam in the night sky, as darkness began to flood across the land, Abigail easily slipped out of her sun dress and let it tumble to the floor around her feet. Her skin was lightly bronzed, a healthy glow, and her body, although willowy and lithe, youthful, did have all the sensual curves that a woman ought to have; she peered at the redness, the welts, that still haunted her bottom. Her nose crinkled and she unhooked her bra. It fell to the floor to join the dress, and then the girl stepped into the bath to eventually slink down into the depths. <br><br>Heat flooded into her body, and she winced when it nipped at the welts that criss crossed her skin. Her nose wrinkled once more, and her teeth ground together, but over several minutes, she relaxed and closed her eyes to soak and forget about the day.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kasen03</strong> on <strong>17-02-2009, 04:29:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jacob listened, hearing the faint sounds in the backroom as his grand-daughter settled into the tub.&nbsp; He was taken back in years.. back to when there used to be children in the house.&nbsp; Pushing himself up, he found he could walk alittle straighter - not needing the cane as much as he walked through the hall, then through the kitchen..his suede slippers padding on the floor with the rhythmic thump of the cane.&nbsp; He was coming into the back room.<br><br>Jacob came to the door, pausing to smell the flowery..the womanly scents.&nbsp; His daughter always used such things in her bath too.&nbsp; He paused at the doorway and looked at the bathtub in the center of the room.. and then entered the room, reaching to bring a wooden stool from the edge of the room towards the tub... as if it was completely normal to come into the room when she was naked and trying to take a bath in the open window of the back room.. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>17-02-2009, 23:51:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Thump. Thump. Thump. The sound of the cane resounded in the back room.<br><br>Abigail, who was lounging in the bath with a steaming hot cloth over her now washed cosmetic free face, opened her dark eyes and stared at the white cotton cloth in disbelief. She pulled it free from her face on hearing the wooden stool scrape along the floor, and she turned to look at her Grandfather with some alarm. It should not have surprised her, however, given that he was old fashioned, and ruled the entirety of the empty house with an iron fist. <br><br>Slim hands covered the plumpness of her rounded breasts regardless of the murky perfumed water covering them, and she drew her legs up and curled against them so that her breasts were protected and hidden against her slender quad muscles.<br><br>“Thank you for drawing my bath,” Abigail said, her lean back exposed to her Grandfather. She peered over her shoulder then. “And I appreciate it, but I don't think you should be here while I bathe.” She told him, her voice hesitant and shy. She rested her chin on her knees and peered at her little toes in the water. She wriggled them. “It doesn't seem right.” She murmured against her knees, and ran her wet fingers through her hair. <br><br><em>He won't care. He won't see anything wrong with it....and privacy, why would it be needed unless one was going to do something immoral, sinful...</em><br><br>Abigail sighed wanting to avoid further confrontation, further accusations that she was like her mother, a no good for nothing wench, because Abigail knew she was nothing like her mother. She looked at the old man before he could retort with a grumpy snappish answer. She handed him the cloth; water dripped from it between her fingers. “Will you wash my back, please?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kasen03</strong> on <strong>18-02-2009, 01:00:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				And even though she gave in, he answered her anyways.<br><br>"Shouldn't be in here?&nbsp; Nonsense.. I bathed your mother.. and she ran around alot more then you do.&nbsp; Although you both have the same horrible taste in men.. " he muttered something disparaging about the French as he turned to sit, setting his cane down.<br><br>"Isn't right.. what isn't right is you faluting what that wussy French boy.&nbsp; he's not good for you." taking the cloth he starts to wash her back, and while it may be.. on the creepy side.. closing one's eyes it feels nice to have someone pamper them while sitting in the warm water.<br><br>"Whenever Mildred wasn't around.. I would wash your mother.&nbsp; And then.. well.. she just preferred me washing her to Mildred.. " his voice gets that tone when he's reminiscing.&nbsp; "It wasn't until she ran away with that German bum that we stopped.. Did he wash her back?&nbsp; I think not.. he only had one thing in his mind."<br><br>His hand caresses down her back and back up..then over her shoulders.. his hands wrinkled but soft..and feeling nice.&nbsp; Finished with the back he starts on her one arm..soaping it.. then washing it..his fingers massaging her arms abit as he works..guiding Abi to sit back in the bath.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>18-02-2009, 01:42:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Abigail rolled her large eyes at the fact that her Grandfather had to still answer her, but she kept quiet and did not voice her exasperation at his nagging words considering her parentage. Several remarks she could have made, argued that Mildred didn't raise her mother right, or maybe took after her...but she didn't. It would have raised ire in the old man, that she knew, and too, she knew that he had a strong and non-tiring arm that yielded little when it came to the strap, or belt...maybe even a paddle. It made her grimace, the thought of it.<br><br>She tried to relax as he scrubbed her thin back. The heat of the water, the feel of the cloth, felt good despite the awkwardness of the situation. His hand along her wet skin, her back, it felt like supple leather, soft and worn, warm, large, and for a moment she felt the tension wash free of her shoulders. Her eyes opened once more when Abi felt him knead her biceps, her forearms, and for a minute she struggled and wriggled to free herself from him.<br><br>She may have had a boyfriend, and may have let Michel pet her, masturbate her, but never had he seen her naked, not fully. Unused to it she was, and Abigail grew timid and shy especially when her Grandfather guided her back, urged her to lounge and expose her front, her pert young breasts and belly and nether regions to him.<br><br>Abigail was aware of her belly button ring, a little gold butterfly that, when wearing the right top, drew attention to her especially from boys and men. Her hand lingered there as she tried to uncurl before him knowing that he would comment upon it, call her a no good whore, a hussy, or whatever term came to his mind. He seldom thought of what he was saying.<br><br>The girl thoughtfully chewed her lip as she surrendered to his insistence. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kasen03</strong> on <strong>18-02-2009, 01:46:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He felt her resistance.. <br><br>"Tutt tutt.. I bathed your mother for over 20 years.. what do you think you have that she doesn't?&nbsp; Honestly now..&nbsp; now close your eyes and relax.."<br><br>He takes one of the towels and drapes it over her head..wrapping it around her head so she can lean on it against the sloped back of the tub.&nbsp; If one could forget her body pretty much opened for him.. it was so relaxing.&nbsp; If only one could forget..<br><br>Then.. it gets even more uncomfortable as his hands just continue..as if it's totally normal.. reaching to continue washing her chest.. across her shoulders.. then down between her breasts..cupping her breasts.. his hands washing..the same squeezing massage as he continues cleaning.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>18-02-2009, 02:54:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Abigail tensed, not being able to forget that this was her first time completely naked before a man, and before her Grandfather, a stranger, and it felt more than odd. Too, no one bathed her since she was little, and on more than one occasion, her hand raised to protest, but then sunk into the depths of the water.<br><br>She chewed on her lip, bit her tongue, as she tried to relax. A deep inhalation she took as he ran his hand between the swell of her breasts, and another gasp was heard when he cupped one, and then the other. The ripe young plumpness of her breast fit in the palm of his hand near perfectly, and Abigail could not help but to open her eyes, and she squirmed.<br><br>She wanted to plead with him to stop, yet no voice could she find. So very wrong it felt, but then his hands did not stray, did not grope her like a lust starved octopus of a man, did not behave like Michel, and Abi slightly calmed. <br><br><em>He is just different. His ways are just different. The old days of yore are just different.</em> Her thoughts tried to soothe her as his hand kneaded her breast, the pale pink nipple hardening with the touch, with the attention, and Abigail could do nothing but close her eyes and accept his ways.<br><br>Her fingers gripped the sides of the bathtub, curled around the edges, but she remained....and the voice of her mother nagged at her, gnawed at her mind.<br><br><em>Fuck. She could have forewarned what life was like here.</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kasen03</strong> on <strong>18-02-2009, 02:57:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jacob noticed all the slight reactions of Abi.. her fingers clutching the sides of the tub.. but also the other signs.. her breathing slowing.. the slight perking of her nipple and gentle blush crossing her body.&nbsp; <br><br>His hands continued..pausing for the loud scraping of the stool shifting along the floor..and then his hands dipped under the water.. washing her stomach.&nbsp; For a moment it was like he was going to.. no.. he wouldn't...<br><br>"Up.. your leg..lift it up.." his voice seemed far away..&nbsp; and after a moment his hands shifted forward, slipping under the water to gently lift her closest leg out of the water... his hands resuming washing.. as if there was utterly no ulterior motive.. he was just washing Abi like he would wash his own daughter.. if she was a young girl.&nbsp; <br><br>Strange and surreal yet .. nice.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>18-02-2009, 05:11:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				There was no hesitation on her Grandfather's part with the mechanical washing of Abigail, and although odd, all question of moral right or wrong, that which society pushed onto the general public, the populace, subsided in Abigail's mind. She gradually eased, and the tension in her thin muscles washed away with the waters that were poured against her skin.<br><br>Her eyes opened once more on hearing the grating of wood against wood as her Grandfather moved the stool. The old man was now in a position where he could fully view her body that was cradled within the tub, sunk into the perfumed depths of the water, and she sniffled shyly when he lifted her leg out of the bath, out of the water.<br><br>The sudsy water lapped between her parted legs, drenching her virginal sex with the movement of picking up and lowering the leg, and a scorching pinkness crawled over her body when Abi realized that, more or less, he could see glimpses of her bare femininity. If he did, he said nothing, and without thought, Abigail slid her hands to her nether regions to languidly rest, and protect herself from his line of vision. <br><br>“I can finish,” Abigail assured him, and timidly, her hand reached for the wash cloth. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kasen03</strong> on <strong>18-02-2009, 13:19:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jacob broke his concentration when Abi spoke, and turned to look at her.<br><br>"Finish?&nbsp; Why would you want to finish.. this was always your mother's favorite part."<br><br>He wasn't stupid.. he knew why it was his daughter's favorite..but then after years and years.. it had grown into a 'thing'.. neither one questioned it.&nbsp; His hands continued to work on her thighs..sliding up ever higher.<br><br>"Your mother was never so squeamish.. are you telling me she never bathed you?" his fingers met her hands.. and then nudged them out of the way.. "You are fussing way too much.&nbsp; Just lay back and relax.. I know how to bathe my own child you know.." his fingers stretching out over her sex.. stroking into her slit.<br><br>"..favorite part.." he murmered again.. lost in thought.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>18-02-2009, 20:13:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				“Favourite part?” Abi repeated in stunned disbelief, her French accent thick in the solitude of the air that surrounded them. She couldn't help but to stare at her Grandfather, a stare that reflected the shock as the girl digested the words, and eventually she closed her gaping mouth. He seemed intent on bathing her, and his large hands washed over her thighs quite thoroughly. She moved her other leg which caused water to splash upon his arms, and seep into his shirt.&nbsp; <br><br>“And no, she didn't bathe me. She's not exactly maternal. She prefers men to mothering.” Abigail said, and although he insisted that she relax, that she rest against the sloping back of the tub, she found it to be difficult. Fingers, stout and thick, covered her bare sex and Abigail blankly stared at the ceiling trying to ignore the social wrongness, the public sin, of this situation, and finally she closed her eyes. At first her nose wrinkled as she felt the tender lips part, and the aged finger stroke into her sex; unlike Michel's it was for his was young, slender, and too exploratory. <br><br>“Just be gentle, please.” She said in a whisper, the same tone of voice she used with her boyfriend, and her eyes darted open when she realized it. “I'm not used to it.” She murmured and shifted with discomfort wondering of the old man's intent.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Family Inheritance  (Kasen03 &amp; Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kasen03</strong> on <strong>20-02-2009, 04:47:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jacob frowned for a moment.."Of course I'll be gentle" and when she opened her eyes and shifted, he reached with his other hand..up out of the warm water to lay her back. "Just relax.. I swear..I've never seen a gal so flighty"<br><br>His hand between her legs continued to stroke.. to caress.. completely unlike Michel.. not groping and frantic..but as a soothing soft pace..his fingers skillful as they spread her lips wide..stroking her most intimately.<br><br>And then... his hands moved.. moved to the other leg..continuing the cleaning..all the way down to her toes..then back up..fingers on her inner thighs.. Jacob watching her reaction to judge whether she's had enough.. or whether she's looking for one more time before he finishes.
			</dd>
		</dl>
		<div id="footer" class="smalltext">
			
			<span class="smalltext" style="display: inline; visibility: visible; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?action=credits" title="Simple Machines Forum" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF 2.0.19</a> |
 <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org/about/smf/license.php" title="License" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF © 2021</a>, <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org" title="Simple Machines" target="_blank" class="new_win">Simple Machines</a>
			</span>
		</div>