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From: John Aitek <arkayz_bible@yahoo.com.au>
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Subject: {ASSM} White Scones and Toddler Sex for Christmas {The Arkayz Bible} (Mg* ped scat)
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Date: Mon, 02 Jan 2006 16:10:03 -0500
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<1st attachment, "white-scones-toddler-christmas.txt" begin>

White Scones and Toddler Sex for Christmas

By Arkayz Bible
January 02, 2006

It was Christmas time (Hanukkah time if you're a Jew) and a festive culture 
filled our society. For one month in the year, cynicism was left for temporary 
extinction, to be replaced with hope and optimism for the next year. For most 
people, the race was on to find presents. For me, however, most of the shopping 
had been done online. White snow filled the roads, and even though crime and war 
persisted in the world, even the news seemed happier. Perhaps there was a 
controlled media conspiracy led by Santa Clause to spread Christmas spirit to 
the kids. I laughed at the thought.

Even though it was Christmas, my little 4-year-old daughter Karen was bored. She 
didn't have many friends and all the kids I brought over from other relatives' 
houses just didn't get along with her. To make matters worse, my workaholic wife 
was working today, so I was home alone with the little girl.

I don't know what it is about my little girl that repelled her from the other 
kids. Sometimes I'd worry about whether she would fit in with society. It's 
important for kids to learn to grow up being proud of their individuality and 
uniqueness. A girl not confident of her own individuality is more susceptible to 
cults. This was what happened to the Joneses's daughter across the street. Their 
reputation as good parents is now tarnished. While individuality is important, I 
didn't want my little Karen growing up isolated and divided from others.

While sitting alone on the sofa reading the latest edition of THE ECONOMIST in 
the big quiet house, my cute little girl came downstairs from her room with a 
piece of paper in her hand. It was eleven o'clock and she was still dressed up I 
her jammies. People often slept in during the holidays. My little girl sat next 
to me and handed me the computer printout. She had her own computer with 
Internet connection in her room and had printed something off for me. Many 
people tell me that I should watch my child when she's on the Internet, but my 
time is too valuable for that. Instead I have installed a content filtering 
program that blocks out pornography and hate sites.

I took the single-page printout from Karen and read it. It was a recipe for 
scones accompanied with a delicious image of scones with butter melting on it.

"Can we have some, Daddy?" she asked.

I don't normally cook for my little daughter and neither did my wife. We 
normally hired nannies and housekeepers to do that kind of thing, but because it 
was Christmas holiday we told them to take a break. Usually we ate out at 
restaurants.

"Pleease?" she asked again.

"Okay, why not?" I got up and walked to the kitchen as my little girl followed 
me. She jumped around as she followed. I don't think it would be hard since the 
recipe has in my hands. All I had to do was follow the recipe step-by-step and 
everything would be fine.

When we got to the kitchen, I lifted the little girl off the tiled floor and sat 
her down on the marble bench. From the fridge I took out milk, bottled water, 
and butter. From the pantry I took out the self-raising flour. I measured all 
the basic ingredients precisely and threw it into a large bowl, telling my 
little girl to mix it all with her hands. It was important, I told her, to mix 
the butter in with her fingers. As she rubbed and mixed the ingredients in the 
bowl with her hands, the flour start puffing and flying around everywhere. She 
was inadvertently trapping pockets of air and flour in the dough and then 
releasing them when she kneaded the dough. The flour flew up and hit her, 
coating her whole face and body. She stopped mixing and looked at me.

"Let me mix it instead," I said, taking the mixing bowl away from her. "I'd 
better clean you up." The flour had covered not only her face but also large 
parts of her pajamas. I had a feeling it was difficult to remove stains from 
pajamas. "Take your jammies off," I said. "I'll wash you up in the sink."

She jumped on the tiled floor and started undressed. I continued kneading the 
dough with my hands and then turned around to look at my little girl. She was 
completely naked except for her white cotton panties. In a small pile near her 
were her pajamas. Her face was still covered with a bit of flour.

My penis automatically grew hard when I saw her soft and smooth skin. Her lack 
of breasts as well as her hipless waist turned me on. She had such small and 
full lips. I kneeled down, grabbed her by the armpits as I usually did, and 
moved her over to the kitchen sink. Filling the sink up with both cold and warm 
water, I eased the little girl into the sink as if it were a bathtub. Karen was 
not a little baby anymore, so the little girl was too big to completely fit in 
the sink. I told her to put her legs in the sink and splash some of the water 
all over her body and face.

When Karen splashed and rubbed her body and face with the water, much of it 
landed on her panties, soaking them, making them semi-transparent. The moist 
cotton started to grip against her skin because of the hydrogen bonding property 
in water molecules. The cute mould of the outer lips of her front bottom were 
clearly visible. I could feel the erection in my pants start to harden at a 
rapid rate.

Karen kneeled up on the kitchen bench and then dunked her head into the water. 
When she took her head out from the water, her hair was thoroughly wet and water 
dripped back into the sink, some overflowing and soaking the floor below. She 
then started to rub her hair, trying to get the flour out. I loved the look of 
my little girl with wet hair. To me it emphasized purity and cleanliness.

"I wanna play with the dough," she said, pointing to the mixing bowl on the 
kitchen bench island that was separate to the kitchen sink. She then put both 
her hands up at me, a signal that she wanted to use me as a human taxi.

I picked up the little girl and carried her over to the bench on which we were 
preparing the scones. As I carried the little girl, her wet hair and panties 
started dripping water all over my clothes, but I wasn't complaining. Her warm 
little body so close to me in my arms was too rewarding.

When I sat Karen on the bench, she looked at me and noted the dark wet patches 
on my shirt and pants. She giggled briefly and looked at the puddle of water on 
the floor and bench that she had left behind. Aware that she was still wet, she 
started shaking her head rapidly, spraying water everywhere like a shaking dog 
that had been in a lake. Water sprayed everywhere--even on me--but I didn't want 
to shout at her like her mother would. I loved her too much.

Karen then noticed her drenched panties were making her cold. She kneeled down 
on the bench and then took off her panties, exposing first to me her adorably 
small bottom, so round and petite. When she turned back over I saw her hairless 
vagina between her legs, like little folds in her skin. She handed the soaking 
wet panties to me, expecting me to put it away in the laundry for her.

I grabbed the panties and, before walking off to the laundry, had a good look at 
my little girl kneading the dough with her hand as she sat on the kitchen bench 
completely naked. I imagined that she was kneading not the dough but my penis, 
rubbing it with her small, pudgy, and delicate baby hands.

I opened the washing machine. Before throwing the wet cotton panties into the 
machine, I noticed some poo stains on the back of the underwear. I held the 
brown stain against my nostrils and breathed in the pooey smell of my little 
girl's ass. My penis was so hard it was started to hurt. I sat down on a nearby 
wooden chair and unzipped my pants, releasing the tortured penis from underneath 
the underwear. With my left hand holding the poo-stained panties against my nose 
and my eyes shut, I masturbated myself with my right hand while recalling with 
photo clarity the image I just witnessed of my naked little girl.

As I masturbated, someone entered the laundry room. It was my naked little girl. 
She stepped in and looked at me as I sat on the wooden chair and rubbed my 
penis.

"Daddy, what are you doing?"

"Nothing, honey," I said. I was close to orgasm. I couldn't stop now, especially 
since I was looking at my naked daughter.

"I need to go poo poo," she said. "I need to go now."

I stopped masturbating, but my penis was still rock hard. "Come here, Princess." 
I opened up my arms invitingly and she walked up to me. I grabbed my little girl 
and pulled her into me. Lifting her up, I sat her down on my lap. She was facing 
me, her vagina pressing up against my abdomen. My penis was nested between the 
bum cheeks of my little girl as if she were sitting on it. I felt the warmth on 
my penis as the little girl's poo come out slightly. She was trying to hold it 
in. Karen's face was level with mine. I stared at her attractive face and her 
pigtailed brown hair.

"Daddy, what are you doing?"

"Go do a poo poo now, Princess. Pretend I'm a toilet."

She giggled. "You're not a toilet."

Karen couldn't hold it in any longer though. She held on my and rested her head 
against my face. I saw her face scrunch up as she squeezed her feces out. With 
my right hand I grabbed my penis and continued masturbating. I then felt warm 
moist poo drop on my hand. Exposing my palm upwards, I caught the poo as it came 
down and rubbed it over my penis as I masturbated. I kept masturbating and 
moaning. Quite a bit of poo was falling on the concrete floor. Karen stopped. 
She had finished.

I kept masturbating, but was interrupted seconds from climax when Karen let go 
of me and went off me, using my legs like a slide. Since my penis was like a 
giant thorn in the slide, for a moment I felt my penis ram in between my little 
girl's pussy lips. When she got to the bottom, she stood up and looked at me, in 
particular staring at my throbbing poo-stained penis.

So close to orgasm, the sight of my curious little baby girl aroused me. I 
grabbed her with my hands. Since my right hand was used to catch her poo as it 
fell, it was now poo-stained and as I grabbed her I smeared poo all over her 
soft baby skin. She protested.

"Yuck, Daddy!"

I stood up and brought my poo-stained penis right up to her face. She then 
looked up at me, slightly scared. I grabbed the back of her head, rubbing in poo 
all over her hair.

"What are you doing, Daddy?" she asked.

"I want you to kiss my wiener, Princess. Lick it like a lollipop."

"But it's got poo all on it."

"Come on, Princess. It's what good little girls do to their daddies. You want to 
be a good girl, don't you? You want to get Christmas presents from Santa 
Clause?"

She paused for a second before nodding her head.

"Santa Clause knows everything. He knows if you've been listening to me or not."

Karen brought her mouth slowly towards the stinky poo-coated penis. She opened 
her mouth, moved it over the head of the penis, and closed her lips, sealing the 
first inch and a half of my penis. With my hands on the back of her head I kept 
her from moving back. She could only move towards me. The foul smell must have 
gotten to her. I heard her gag and tears formed in her beautiful eyes. I loved 
my little girl so much I started to feel bad about what I was doing, so I let go 
of the back of her head and she immediately threw her head back. As she did, a 
torrent of saliva spilled out of her mouth. Much of the saliva was on my poo-
stained penis. The saliva must have been produced as a reflex mechanism to 
protect her from the poo or perhaps to try digest the poo.

With my penis now thoroughly coated with my little Princess's moist poo as well 
as her slick and slimy saliva, I masturbated again and felt myself getting close 
to orgasm. I grabbed my little girl again with my left hand and, expected me to 
do what I had done earlier, she tried to resist.

"No, Daddy, no! Pleease no!"

"It's okay, Princess. I just want to baptize you."

"Baptize me?"

"This is what we have to do to you if you want to get lots of presents from 
Santa. I'm just going to put some cream on your face, okay?"

Grabbing the back of my daughter's head with my left hand like I did before, I 
pulled her face closer to my penis and then started ejaculating. I was pumping 
on my penis so fast that not only did semen spray all over Karen's face but so 
too did chunks of slippery poo. The little girl scrunched her face up in fear as 
the bits of bodily fluid flew all over her pretty face.

When I had finished, I sat back down again on the wooden chair and looked at the 
beautiful site of my naked daughter with a face covered with semen and poo. Some 
of the semen started running down her neck and some of the poo fell and smeared 
her belly with brown stains before landing on the floor.

Karen opened her eyes. "Will I get presents from Santa Clause?"

"Of course you will," I said. "But you must promise not to tell anyone about 
this, especially not Mommy. Santa Clause will be very mad and vengeful if you do 
that."

The little girl nodded. "I promise."

I hugged her together we went to the bathroom to clean each other off. While 
washing myself in the shower, I smiled at the lie I told Karen. 

Santa Clause really is the tool of the parents and the opiate of the children.

THE END

------------
1. 2400*
2. 2498(98)*
<1st attachment end>


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