Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. 100 REMINISCENCES OF A MARRIAGE TO A CHILD. Foreword. 100 Reminiscences of a marriage to a child is a work of fiction, and as such for the purposes only of fantasy, not intended to condone or encourage paedophilia. It is set on a fictional island community, where child-sex is legal, and told from the 1st-person viewpoint of a 39yo man who has taken a child-bride. It is, therefore, a serious contemplation of how such a culture might work (or not). Moral pronouncements will be made through the voice of this fictional character and his fictional society. It is a series of reflections, 250 words each, and will be posted 10 at a time. Reminiscences 31-40. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 31. Firm but Fair. Most good parenting handbooks will tell you that, along with firmness, you should be fair towards a child. If you reprimand her, she should understand why. If you promise something, you ought to live up to it. I could easily have controlled her even if these things were not done well, but it might not have engendered her affection and respect. This is no different if you are the paedophilic lover of a child. For example, in the early days especially, sucking my cock and having me cum in her mouth was a touch repellent to her. Nevertheless, I wanted it, and she had to do it - and I made this clear to her. It was important to remember that I was expecting a 9-year-old to do what many grown women baulk at, or abstain from altogether. I would therefore promise her whatever type of treat she wished for at the weekend, in return for her game cooperation. I always delivered on my promises, and indeed took pleasure in delighting her little soul when I did; after all, I loved her. As a rule, though, sex was my right as a husband, therefore I was not obliged to `bribe' her for it. I made sure she understood this; in any case, the island education system backed me up. If, however, I hurt her more than was necessary during a penetration, or choked her more than was reasonable during a blow-job, I would apologise and make it up with some nice gift. 32. The Art of Massage. This was a beautiful way to bond sexually (although she didn't necessarily understand that's what it was) in a non-threatening, non-invasive way. On the other hand, having orifices poked and prodded takes trust and acclimatization. With Amy, I often performed the massages on a large towel on the living room floor. Early on, I let her keep her little knickers or shorts on, but she soon got used to the idea of lying there fully exposed. I tended to begin with her on her front, urging her to lay still with her arms out relaxed, although she often giggled stupidly. She was only 9, after all. I did not mind this, as long as she was obedient, which she invariably was. Laughter, in fact, is part of the bonding mechanism, conditioning her to grow into matters sexual as `fun'. I used liberal amounts of baby oil - which particularly caused giggles - and I can tell you that this combination of slime with the already absolute smoothness of a child's body is an utter tactile joy. Her delicate neck, bony shoulders, skinny ribcage, narrow hips, little buttocks and soft and short legs - all got the groping adult hands treatment. Turning her over, and doing her chest, belly and inner thighs brought about even more giggles. Inexorably, it became understood in her young mind as part of the canon of sex - particularly as I usually had a boner, and often finished a massage with ejaculating on her. 33. Coming home from a day of work. Although professional life on the island is a breeze in comparison to the regular world, there is sometimes an element of stress. Hell, it would probably get boring without. Kids are kids, even those with the excellent island upbringing, and also one has off-days or some silly little encounter can knock one's ego a little. Thus, some days I was very happy to come home to Amy - hell, I was *always* very happy to come home to Amy - but sometimes I needed her more than others. It was great knowing I had a pretty and good-natured little girl-come-wife to fall into the `bosom' of - so to speak - when I landed through the door at 4.30 p.m. It was nice knowing I had the options of mere companionship, or a simple cuddle and kiss, or simple a little more, depending on my mood - and to a lesser extent, hers. This was yet another aspect of the normality-yet-surrealism of the situation. On the one hand, it felt utterly natural to have a wife `in place', as it were, and it could even escape my mind that the arrangement and the things I did with her were illegal in most parts of the world. On the other hand, the fact I had a `child' on tap for whatever sexual release I might need made my head spin, and the luxury of always being able to assert my will if necessary was immensely reassuring. 34. From paedophilic massage to paedophilic sex. I'm wondering if, in fact, all the touching in a regular massage would constitute `sex abuse' in the regular world? Could such activity take place within the non-sexual confines of a father-daughter relationship? Take the boner and ejaculation out of it, of course, and just have the massage itself with all the giggling and mutual affection. I guess it still would be `improper', in most peoples' eyes - I can't imagine many fathers behave like that with their preteen daughters! It's the nudity, or near-nudity, of it, and the sexual overtones of massage. Maybe it's simply a matter of degree; I'm sure many a father gives a quick ruffle - `grope', basically - of his little daughter's shoulders and neck at all kinds of moments. Nobody would bat an eyelid at this. Where does the `sexual' begin: is it quantitative or qualitative, or a mixture of both? Perhaps the presence (or not) of an erection is the defining factor. I digress. The point is, I did not have to worry about these things on the island, and I could let our massage sessions evolve into, and overlap with, outright sex as my will dictated. I did this by such things as rubbing the baby oil all over her child-cunt with two fingers, finger-fucking her, or teaching her to give *me* massage - incorporating `massage' of my cock. Hellish nice, with her little hands coated in the slippery oil (which is white, making for an interesting blend afterwards). 35. Coming home from a good day at work. Of course there is no such thing as an average day, but here I recount one that was as close to it as any. It was March - the Fall in the southern hemisphere - and 11 months into the marriage, and Amy had recently turned 10. It was a mild and breezy Tuesday which had gone smoothly at school, and I was feeling happy and healthy, and I remember I walked through the door whistling some Mozart. I greeted Amy with a stooping kiss on the forehead, sliding my hands under the strands of blond hair over her ears, and I inquired warm-heartedly as to her day at home. She had done a wonderful job of cleaning, tidying and clothes-washing, bless her heart. I observed them fluttering on the line out the back. One reason I remember this day so clearly is perhaps because by this time Amy was adjusting very well to her role, and the little golden face that greeted me looked obedient and anticipant. In the event, we had a completely platonic evening, as I decided to store my loving feelings up for bedtime. There I gave my young wife one of my most expressive and cummy missionary `grind-fucks' ever. Then, with my adult belly `sticking' to her soft child-belly, I flipped her onto the top whereupon we lip-kissed and I stroked her little bum for a while before we amazingly drifted off like this. 36. Bath-time with Amy. I enjoyed taking a bath with my wife from the earliest days of our marriage, and kept up the habit right the way through it, averaging 2 or 3 a week. They could be at any time of day, depending on the reason. This is not as simple as it may seem. It could indeed merely be to get clean, but it could be also be for `pre-sex', `after-sex' or as part of sex. Sometimes there would be genuinely no sexual intent on my part, but only a desire to relax and bond in a nice way. I even wondered if, perchance, fathers ever did this with their 9-11 year old daughters in the regular world with it being construed by as `innocent'. Anyway, as for me, the fact of my stiff adult cock pressing against Amy's lower back tended to give the lie to that. For me, there's just no ignoring the inherent sensuality of a shared bath, regardless of partner's age. With her smooth young body sitting between my legs, I would hand-wash her flat chest, which included savouring the soft and slight risings of pubescence there as she passed age 10. Washing her hair was a sheer joy, often making giggly play of tipping water over her head. It was common for me to reach around and diddle her little cunt. Often we would turn face-to-face, whereupon we could kiss or/and she could give me a sumptuously watery hand-job. 37. Coming home from a hard day at work (a). If I'd had a rotten day, or just felt down for any reason, this could go one of two ways or even a combination of the two. By the end of our time together, Amy tended to prefer one or the other so that she knew what was required of her. Mode `a' was where I required `Amy the companion'. I simply wanted to hear her soft and pure little voice, via small-talk or a more supportive and intense kind of conversation. It was often immensely therapeutic to complain to her about some issue of my day - even though it may well be a mature concept which she could not possibly grasp fully - and hear her response to it. "Totally inappropriate of the Principal to merge history and religion into one subject," I said one day. "Does it give you more work to mark?" Amy replied. I just said `yes' to that one, smiled and put my arm around her on the sofa. Sitting there rubbing up against her little hip, I didn't always have an erection, although my occasional strokes of her hair or kiss on the cheek were in `husbandly' fashion. However, they tended to make Amy interpret them as `parental' and regress to her old pre-sexed child-self. A strange paradox was that, being a paedosexual, this often excited me and I did become erect after all and veer into hard-core mode with her. 38. Behaviour in public on the Island. `Liberated' though the island is, this does not mean the lifestyle is one of continuous orgies or exhibitionism. Indeed, at first glance, any visitor to the place would see a community going about its business like any other. The most obvious differences are in the lack of modern vehicles, and a Victorian/Romanesque retro civilization. It looks idyllic, a bit like the Amish community in Pennsylvania, although the landscape is different and there is no religious straight-jacket here. People work - they do not lounge around like decadent Roman nobles - and everybody has their place for the constructive good of the society. Rot would set in otherwise. No life can be 100% indulgence, and even sexual recreation would stagnate in such circumstances. Duties are, however, less onerous than the working plight of people in the regular world. I, for example, teach at South Village School for just 20 hours per week. After a few hours of mingling, however, a visitor would with shock begin to notice what lies beneath. Men hold hands with little girls who, it turns out, are not daughters but wives or lovers. The little tactile and verbal interactions and kisses, on closer observation, are distinctly sensual ones not innocent ones. People generally conduct themselves in public with the same level of decorum as any other society, regardless of age of spouse or lover. Public dignity is important, and sex is for private life except for `special events' [see 55]. 39. Coming home from a hard day at work (b). Mode `b' - hardcore mode - could come about as mentioned at the end of [37], or I might be in it straight away when I came through the door. Indeed, sometimes I would walk home mulling with primeval paedophile sentiment whether to take Amy up the arse or in the mouth. At such times, I even questioned whether I loved her, or if I was just simply a guy who liked to sexually abuse little girls. Even rather early on in our relationship, whilst she was still only 9 years of age - just 9 years old - I walked through the door and announced, "Right, blow-job, please." I'm not sure if I did say please (I know I usually did, even if being authoritarian). She did not look overjoyed, but acquiesced quietly, coming to position whilst I lowered my pants. I rose to full hardness, simultaneous with her taking hold of it and opening her mouth. I stood there, sighing my satisfaction as her pretty lips and small jaws stretched to the task, and I held her cute golden head gently as I tested out little fucking motions. These became stronger, as I became intoxicated by the view and sensation of my stiff and thick adult penis sticking in her child-face. I'm not proud, but I basically raped her mouth, making her cheeks bulge and her throat retch until I ejaculated. Whereupon she heaved and coughed most of it out. 40. What is my favourite - cunt, arse or mouth? This somewhat crudely worded question is one of the most commonly asked when guys are getting to know each other on the island, and talking about their little wives or child-girlfriends. "Do you prefer vaginal, anal or oral?" is how some of the better-spoken guys might put it. Well, in entry 2, I explained how mouth is important, basically because it is just as functional in a young girl as it is a woman. This is not the same as saying it is my `favourite', though, but it so happens it is - narrowly, over buggery. My preference varies a bit over the ages, and depends to some extent on the specific girl, but with Amy - and the 9 to 11-year-old age group in general - it is mouth. Firstly, it is the practicalities: no need for messing around with lube, no anxieties about tearing anything or internal damage (within reason). Certainly NO reason to use a condom, as some with squeamishness over bum-fucking do. One can just `get on with it', the sweetie's reluctance in the early days notwithstanding. Even that is part of the fun, though: it's teaching-come-encouraging-come-coercing. No sight or sensation beats that of her pretty little face down there, her mouth wrapped around your shaft of adult meat, with all the cute expressions she makes. Well, perhaps the moment of ejaculation beats it, or the immediate aftermath. She's done her wifely duty, and you've asserted dominance. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The next 10 to be posted in a day or two. Feedback welcome to ep1968@hotmail.co.uk100 Reminiscences of a marriage to a child (31-40)