Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 FOREWORD
   In these dairy entries, a 43-year-old man called Mark chronicles his
1-year experimental marriage to a blonde and pretty 8-year-old girl, called
Amy (now 9) in a pedo-friendy island society.  The aim is to see how things
pan out: how she copes and develops, and the particular satisfactions or
challenges for Mark.  Ethical reflection is included, as are graphic and
honest details of acivities associated with any marriage.
   This is a work of fiction.
   * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
   PEDO ISLAND DIARY Sunday 21st April 2012.
   `I need someone to tell me not to feel guilty...'
   Some things remind me of the plain and simple fact that Amy is still a
little child, no matter how much `experience' she might be getting.  Of
course she's not as little as some guys' wives on the island (Mac... 
Rock!) who I could mention, but 9 years old (and only just 9) has to be
classed as `little' I guess.  The things that remind me of this: whenever
I'm trying to put it in her small hairless cunt, and a session such as I
had tonight.
   I wanted a blowjob, nothing more.  Looking at her pretty little fair
English face, I just had to fuck it.  She's so gentle, golden and angelic
that sometimes a little cuddle or a few tender kisses on her cheek will
satisfy me.  It warms my soul to see her sunny little smile and bashful
flush of the face when receiving affection that does not require hardcore
action from her.  But I'm a man, and a husband with needs, and a wife quite
rightfully has to supply these - no matter if the wife is a child, says our
island laws.
   So, I put it to her tonight, as we cross paths in the kitchen.  "Oh, I
don't really want to right now," she says.
   She said it politely enough, in her usual gentle manner.  She looked a
little forlorn, though, that repressed sweetness that you see in abused
children as opposed to loved ones.  This is in such contrast to the
juddering, giggling little thing that was having her cunny eaten for half
an hour last night [diary 10].  There was no obvious reason for it.  We've
had a nice normal Sunday: she saw her Dad, played round her friend Ruthie's
house for a while and we had a walk to the beach.  But now this reluctant,
sorry little mood.  I feel like it is a step back after so much steady
progress in two months of married love and sex.  So, I'm sure it's just a
blip, and I've put it down to a child still adjusting to new things.  It's
not as if she hasn't sucked my cock before, though.  Something like 30
times in fact, at least 10 of those cumming in her mouth.  Okay, she was
sick the first few, but has since started to swallow quite a lot albeit
with a grimace.
   "But Amy, I want to - and you know you're my wife," I admonished her
gently.
   She sighed a little too darkly for my liking, and pulled a little face
of petulance.  "It doesn't mean we have to do it all the time."
   "What?  We don't do it all the time, not by a long way."
   "We did a session last night."
   "Yes, but it was a different type of session.  A sex life needs to be
varied.  There's a thousand and one different ways to..."
   "So why do we have to do it THIS way tonight?"
   "Amy..." I said, trying hard to be patient.  "Because I want to."
   She sighed again.  "I thought it was a day off."
   "No, I never said that.  Last Sunday was, but that doesn't mean Sundays
in general."
   She stood in glum, speculative silence for a moment.  "Is it just for a
warm-up?"
   "No, it's as the `main thing'."
   She knew what this meant well enough.  "So, I have to swallow your
stupid mess."
   "Hey!" I snapped.  "What's got into you??" I gave her one hard slap
across her right cheek, enough to knock her slightly sideways but not
enough to bruise her.
   For a second I thought she was going to carry on standing there in
petulant silence, but water welled up in her eyes and her chin quivered. 
Suddenly I had a crying, squeaking girl, shoulders jiggling and her
angel-face all screwed up and looking to the floor.  It disturbed me.  It's
not the first time she's cried a little, but it's almost always been after
a bit of penetration pain and she'd bravely get over it.  This time I could
see she wouldn't stop.
   "Hey, hey, hey," I purred, softly taking her head in my hand and
stroking her hair back over her ears.  "No need for all this.  You've done
it before.  It won't take long."
   "Alright," she said, sniffling.
   "You enjoyed it last night, didn't you?" I smiled into her face,
playfully.  She shrugged.  "Yeess, you did."
   "Uh huh." She nodded, wiping her nose.
   "Well, then, it's only fair for you to do me in return." I continued
caressing her golden strands.  "It's no big deal, you silly thing."
   That elicited a half-smile amidst the ebbing waterworks.  I told her
that crying spoiled her beautiful blue eyes, and was not the way for the
best princess on the island to behave.  That almost brought a little
chuckle.  I pushed away a tear from under her eye and gently ushered her
into the living room where I began to take my clothes off.  Amy needed no
prompting to follow suit.  I told her to do me a few slow twirls, and as I
cast my appreciative eyes over her little camel toe and mini-buttocks I
contemplated a change of plan.  I felt like giving her `difficult' vaginal
action or even taking that anal virginity there and then, but I guessed it
would not be fair after what had just transpired between us.  Children
understand honesty and justice very well.
   "I don't know if I want to do it in your mouth or on your face, anyway,"
I explained, nicely.  "We'll see how it goes."
   A warm-up was not shifting the goalposts, though, and I got Amy on all
fours to give her bottom a daft little kissing and licking session.  I
tried to make her laugh, and partly succeeded.
   "Are you the best princess?" I asked, smacking my lips down each buttock
in turn.
   "There's no need for smacking this good girl, is there?" I asked,
planting playful smacks on her.
   "No, no, of course not," I chuckled.  "This beautiful bum needs licking
instead." I did just that, dragging my tongue like a dog repeatedly though
her dainty crack.
   I've already taught her that this is one of the profoundest expressions
of how a man loves her, that he is prepared to do this and do it with
pleasure.  I think it did improve her morale tonight.  At any rate, she got
into position for the blowjob with no further attitude, although there was
a touch of going-though-the-motions about it.  I leaned back in the
armchair and she settled in on her knees between my thighs.  Without
further ado, I enjoyed the sight of her sweet 9-year-old head going down
onto my erection and the feel of her little jaws latching on.
   These days she has a technique of resting her arms on my thighs while
using one or both hands to help her with the penis.  As she got into the
motion of dipping and munching her damp little mouth around my shaft, I
slipped off her headband and played in her hair, purring my satisfaction. I
was more vocal than usual this time, trying to demonstrate to her how well
she was doing.  I came pretty quick, maybe in part because the course of
events had got my ire up somewhat.
   My hips shuddered up and down on the seat, and I clapped a firm hand
round the back of Amy's head with my other hand under her chin to help keep
her neck at the best angle.
   "URGHH!" That was me.
   "Uch, ach." That was Amy, with a grimace and a pink face.
   Need I describe the volume and stickyness of the stuff gushing up out of
my big stiff adult cock and filling Amy's little kiddy mouth?  No, I think
not.  I'm a bit tired now, and a bit guilty too.  I didn't feel there was
an awful lot of romance about our marriage tonight, when I looked at her
with her stressed little expression after I finally allowed her to break
off.  Her sweet eyes looked up as me as if to say, `why did you make me do
that?'
   Another little cough, a screw-up of her fair freckled face, followed by
a flow of grey-white semen over her lower lip and chin, and I said: "Okay,
go and wash you mouth out if you like."
   I'm not even sure if I said that only because I have in mind kissing her
when we cuddle up for sleep later.  I don't particularly want to taste my
own sperm, I'm not into that.  I feel `ruthless' and, dare I say it...  `a
child abuser' exactly as the old world would have it.  But she's so pretty
and lovely, I can't help it.  If you saw her pic it would break yor heart
(and I can show you if you ask, but not one with her doing anything dirty
or unclothed).  She's only 9; should a 9-year-old have to do these things?
Am I being unduly influenced by old world feelings?  I feel bad.
   I need someone to tell me not to feel that way.  Feedback please.
   * * * * * * * * * * THE END * * * * * * * * *
   https://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/englishperv/ for other instalments of
this and other stories.  Feedback or discussion of points raised by my
stories welcome at Mazeppa1968@hotmail.co.uk 
  
Pedo Island Diary 11