This is going to hurt just a little bit :) Why Arun??

He knew exactly what she wanted. Though she looked frightened every time he took out his little brother, he knew she had been waiting for it with a mix of anxiousness and expectancy all these days. He had been waiting for it too, like he did with all the ‘customers’ who visited him. He simply had to make them feel better, it was his profession and he loved every moment of it though he made some customers wait. But tonight, the waiting would bear fruit and climax in shrieks, sobs and liquids.

He had known her for some time now. They lived in the same area and his place was a particularly famous one. He had seen her throw anxious glances at his sign board and he’d flashed one of his trademark inviting smiles at her. He knew she was curious to know what happened inside the closed rooms; for a girl of her age, she must’ve fantasized about the instruments he would be having for ‘special’ customers. Perhaps, she wanted him to use them on her too, he wondered.

She was, by general consensus, a careful girl, not given to mindless activities. She had seen his ‘office’ quite a few times from the outside. Once her Mom had caught her staring at it and she had received a sound telling off from her, “Be a good and girl, and you’ll never go there!” She had crossed herself and moved on. Only till she heard about him from one of his more ‘loyal’ customers.

She could see it was not good for her but inside her an insatiable desire to explore his office had taken centre stage. From what she had heard, there was none better than him to help her explore.

That evening, he knew she was hers. She was there waiting outside his ‘working’ room, waiting for him to call her in. He wondered what she would think of his working room consisting of a small table, a rack for ‘instruments’ and a bed.

She sat there anxiously, waiting for the kring-kring of the bell that would summon her in. She was so nervous that she had chewed off all her finger nails; she was clutching the side of her chair so tightly that her fingers had gone numb. Deep down inside her, a voice whispered that he would take care of all that tonight.

Finally he called her in. She wouldn’t look up at his face. Was it starting blues or a sign of things to come? He started off slowly, ‘exploring’ her eyes, mouth, wrists and working his way to her breasts with his ‘instruments’; she was delicate, quite evidently a first timer. He instinctively knew what she wanted. And he was only too glad to oblige. He took off her pants, turned her around and made her lie on her stomach. Her face was sunk into the pillow, hiding a thousand emotions that if seen would make him a very satisfied man. His most ‘favourite’ instrument was loaded and ready to ‘explore’ her interiors. He leant closer to her and whispered, “Hang on honey, this is going to hurt just a little bit”. The time had come for the final act.

He was a skilled physician, he knew the exact spot. He inserted his syringe into the vein in the 6-year old kid’s buttock and as she let out a single shriek of pain, he was done; the liquid interchange was over and both of them climaxed in one’s screams.