Charlotte's Mom My name is Karen Marshand. I'm a 26-year-old mother of a five-year-old daughter, and this is our story. I had always thought that the most beautiful sound in the world was the sound of a young child laughing. I was fast asleep on my sofa when I awoke with a thin smile on my face as I heard my 5-year-old daughter, Charlotte, laughing and giggling. I opened my eyes to see her sitting naked on the floor while Wolfie, our white German Shepard, was licking between her legs. "Char!" I shouted in a panic, scaring her and Wolfie half to death. She jumped and started to cry while Wolfie took off like a scared rabbit. "Honey, what were you and Wolfie doing?" I said, trying to control the panic in my voice. "He was lickin' me, Mommy. He likes that." "I know, honey, but you shouldn't let Wolfie do that to you." "Why not, Mommy? It feels good," she explained with quivering lower lip. How do you explain to a child that everything that feels good, isn't necessarily good for you? At age five, children believe that if it feels good, then do it. Come to think of it, I knew a lot of adults who believed the same thing, so how do you convince a five year old that anything involving her private parts with an animal isn't the moral or socially correct thing to do? I decided to take the physical, rather than the moral or social approach. "He could hurt you, baby. Doggie's tongues are very rough, and could make you sore down there. It might hurt when you go pee-pee." "Sometimes it does, Mommy, but it still feels good." Oh my God! Did she say "sometimes it does?" How many times has this happened? Where have I been? What kind of mother was I? I tried to think back to what I'd learned in college about `child sexuality.' All I could remember was that children begin to masturbate at a very early age, and that you should tell them that it was okay to do at home, but not in the grocery store. I don't remember reading anything about what to do if you find your dog licking your child's pussy, or worse still, what to tell her if she likes it. My next thought was orgasm! Did five year olds have orgasms? I seemed to remember that the sexual response cycle included desire-arousal-orgasm-recovery, and that 43 percent of children to age 12 engaged in some sort of sexual activity and that 23 percent attained climax. Was Charlotte one of those lucky 23 percent? I don't remember if, at age 5, I was in that lucky group or not, but I do remember that during those classes in Teacher's College I became sexually aroused by the thought of children having sex and "cumming." I wasn't sure why a math teacher had to know all of that, but Child Sexuality was my favorite class, and it wasn't just because I aced the course. I decided that the best course of action at the moment was to run her a nice warm bubble bath, and then to rub her down with baby oil. "Honey, Mommy is going to run you a nice warm bubble bath, so you wait in that chair and don't let Wolfie near you. Okay?" "'Kay, Mommy," I ran her a warm bath with California Baby Bubble Bath, and added some of my Estee Lauder Youth Dew Bath Oil, which always made her feel like a "big girl," because it was what Mommy used. I thought it might make her want to stay in the bath longer, giving the bath oil time to work its magic on her sore pussy. When I returned to the living room, she was sitting sideways in the recliner, feet up on one arm, legs parted, and she was gently rubbing her clitoris. "Does it hurt bad, sweetie?" "Uh-Uh, Mommy, it itches." I moved her hand out of the way and was looking at her crimson genital area with a red clitoral hood, the light pink tip of her clitoris peeking out from under the hood. I fought to keep from touching it, but lost the fight. I gripped her clitoral hood between the insides of my first and middle finger and began to stroke it gently, watching her clitoris grow larger, peeking out then slipping back under it's hood. "Is the itch all gone, sweetie?" "Kinda," she moaned, making a low, animal-like noise "Do you want Mommy to itch it some more?" She silently nodded her head in the affirmative. I increased the pace of my stroking, as her feet slipped off of the chair, the back of her knees now resting on the arm. As I picked up the pace, she arched her back, her hips moving in a circular motion, her head thrown back, her eyes glazed and fixed on some unknown object in outer space. And that's when I lost it. I was over the top, beyond any turning back. My panties were drenched with my own juices, as I consciously masturbated my own 5-year-old daughter, watching the expression on her face, the distant look in her eyes, and listening to the soft purring sounds coming from her lips. In my own defence, I hadn't had sex since my divorce from Charlotte's father a year ago. I hadn't had sex with another female since that one time during my junior year at college with my roommate, and that only happened after our Child Sexuality class, each of us pretending that the other was a child. Well okay, maybe it happened more than once, but not enough times to be considered a lesbian. "Is Mommy as good as Wolfie, honey?" I asked Charlotte. "Uh-Huh . . . Uh-Huh," spoken with a trembling lower lip. "But Wolfie licks it, doesn't he?" I said, leaning over and placing my lips on her belly and "blowing bubbles" as I had when she was an infant. She giggled, entwined her fingers in my hair and pushed gently downward on my head. "Lick my pee-pee, like Wolfie does, Mommy," she whispered. "Don't you want a nice warm bubble bath to make you all better down there, sweetie?" "Uh-Uh I want you to kiss my pee-pee and make it all better." I lifted her from the recliner and held her close to my chest as I carried her to my bed and laid her sideways across it. I knelt on the floor next to the bed, placed a pillow under her hips, my head between her thighs, and her legs thrown over my shoulders. I hadn't forgotten everything that I learned in college. I stared directly into her vagina, at her enlarged clitoris and the ragged edges of her hymen, torn in a tricycle mishap at age three. I wet the tip of my finger with my tongue and touched the very tip of her clitoris as I stared up over her pubic mound into wide eyes full of anticipation. The room seemed to spin dizzily as I ran my finger down from her clitoris to her vagina, then down to her tightly puckered anus. I pressed gently against her tight sphincter eliciting a confused look from Charlotte. "It's okay, baby," I whispered. "Mommy won't hurt you." Charlotte reached for her clitoris and began rubbing it slowly. She instinctively began flexing her sphincter muscles when she felt my finger press against it. "I don't care if you do," she whispered softly. This was simply too surreal; almost as if I were having an out-of-body experience; as if I were far off in the distance, watching myself preparing to make love to my own child. "Mother's don't fuck their own children," I told myself as I lashed out with my tongue and began licking my daughter from her throbbing clit to her puckered asshole. I placed my hands on her hips and pulled her pussy closer to the edge of the bed and into my hungry mouth. With her hands entwined in my hair as if to keep me in place, she began to pound her heels against my back while making the soft sounds of a cat with its motor running. I traversed her entire vaginal area with my tongue, from her rectum to her clit, spending extra time at her inner labia which was quickly becoming thick with engorged blood. I had learned in college that the ridge-free vaginal walls of prepubescent girls allows the vaginal seepage to flow more freely, and my efforts were soon rewarded by the steady flow of my daughter's juices. Totally out of control at this point, well beyond any thought of turning back, I lifted Charlotte's hips so that only her shoulders and head were touching the bed, her pussy pulled up hard against my wet face as I aggressively licked and drank from her. Charlotte removed her fingers from my hair and began to pound the bed beside her with her fist. Her head thrashed from side to side, wet strands of flaxen hair sticking to her sweat covered face. I pushed my tongue past the ragged edges of her torn hymen and tongue fucked her tight pussy. Charlotte clamped my head between her thighs and continued to pound my back with the heels of her feet. I knew then that I had just taken her virginity with my tongue as I watched my five-year-old daughter become a woman right in front of my eyes. Suddenly, her back arched, her legs stiffened and shot straight out, the heel of her right foot latched over the instep of her left as she clamped my head between her thighs in a scissors grip. I knew from my own experience that girls were not supposed to ejaculate until about age eight, but the taste in my mouth changed from the almost tasteless lubricating juices that seep from the vaginal walls, to a thicker sweet taste, mixed with just a hint of urine. Female ejaculate tastes sweet because it contains two different forms of natural sugars. It is quite different from the taste of urine, or the lubricating juices. Is it possible that my baby ejaculated, further proof that I had taken her virginity? I carried a pan of warm soapy water and two large terry bath towels into the bedroom. I placed her onto one of the bath towels and began to sponge down her exhausted, limp body, kissing and licking her as I did. "Was I a big girl, Mommy?" she asked. "Yes, sweetheart, you were a very big girl," I assured her. "What you've just had was an orgasm. Have you ever had one of those before? Like maybe when Wolfie licks your pee pee?" "Nope. He didn't do like you do, he just licks me, but it don't feel like when you do it. Did Wolfie ever do that to you?" "No, sweetheart. People are not supposed to let doggies do that." "Well still, you should let him, `cuz it feels good." It was getting late, so I gave her the choice of sleeping in my bed tonight, or going to her own room. She elected to sleep in my bed, so I tucked her in, kissed her good night, then went to drain the tub of the cold bubble bath so that I could take my own shower. I took off my blouse and skirt, then stepped out of my drenched panties and slipped into my long terry robe while waiting for the tub to empty. I decided to go into the living room while I waited, fixed a Scotch and soda, sat in the recliner, and contemplated the events of the day. I never thought when the day began that I would commit incest and pedophilia by day's end. I finished my drink, lay back in the recliner, and closed my eyes to think about what I'd done. Suddenly, my eyes popped open when I felt Wolfie's cold nose slip under my robe and start sniffing the dried cum on my pussy. I tried to push him away, but he weighs almost 100 pounds, making that task a little difficult. The next thing I knew, he was licking the dried cum and juices from inside of my pussy. Charlotte was right; it felt good. I slouched down in the chair, moved my ass up to the seat edge, then leaned back in the recliner to enjoy having my pussy licked. Suddenly, Wolfie was on top of me, his paws on my shoulders and his hips were thrusting rapidly as he tried to aim his very large, very red cock at my pussy. I reached between my legs, and grabbing his cock, aimed it at my now wet cunt with great success. His head and paws were on my shoulders and his feet tried to get traction on the carpet as he entered me up to the ball. He tried without success to get the large ball inside of me as I hung on for dear life while he continued to fuck me. Comments and suggestions welcome. |