M/g Pedo. Incest.

Disclaimer: The children described here are perfect, ideal, and completely imaginary. Do not think 
reality could ever feel like this. In prison, child molesters are used as human toilets.
        
Nymph
by Pedro Feelya

    Post Partum Depression: They almost listed it as the cause of my wife's death. It took over a year for 
me to put my life back together. Katie was six months old at the time. At first I had a lot of time to spend 
with her. Then, after I started working again, I found I had less and less time as a single parent to care 
for her and make enough money to support us. 
    I didn't want anything to do with our house. It took too much maintenance and I couldn't afford it 
any more. I had racked up some huge bills with the funeral. I found a nice apartment. Soon I found a 
little seventy year old neighbor who could take care of Katie. 
    I threw myself into my job as an advertising coordinator for a small radio station. That meant a 
steady eight hour job with lots of overtime. I still loved to be with my little bundle of endless joy. My 
neighbor wasn't really physically able to spend a lot of attention with her. She took care of diapers and 
feeding well enough, but was too tired to play a lot. 
    When I would come home, my baby would have endless energy and want all my attention. We lived 
for each other. 
    She was a perfectly normal and well balanced baby. Soon, Katie was almost two years old. Then I 
noticed something. When changing her diapers, Katie seemed to enjoy any sensation in her crotch. I 
wasn't sure if the nub that was obviously her clitoris was larger than normal. Sometimes, when she 
watched TV, she would have her hand down inside her diaper. 
    At two and a half, Katie took to potty training amazingly fast. She hardly needed training diapers 
and soon stopped wetting the bed. This was a nice relief for me. 
    At three years old, I would sometimes pick her up at the neighbor's, and if she was wearing a dress, 
she would be without her panties. My neighbor would complain that Katie wouldn't keep them on and 
kept finding them around her apartment. Katie loved wearing dresses. 
    If I wasn't with Katie, I would sometimes find her rubbing herself back and forth on the arm of the 
couch, or with her hand under her dress. Children shouldn't masturbate in front of people. Children this 
young shouldn't masturbate at all. I decided this was a problem and I should try to stop her. 
    It's hard to punish a child who is so good. She didn't really think about what she was doing and 
didn't really understand why it was wrong. I stopped dressing her in dresses and only used pants that 
buttoned. She couldn't undo buttons yet.
    Still, there were times, like when she went to bed, that this wasn't possible. I tried spanking her 
hands, tying her wrists, and scolding her. She wasn't being disobedient and she didn't consciously do it. 
She learned it was wrong and when I pointed out that she was doing it, she would hang her head and 
become depressed. I couldn't stand her depression for obvious reasons. 
    Eventually friends and neighbors began to notice. Being a widowed father in an apartment complex 
full of single moms gave me a lot of attention. I went on some dates but I was way too busy to put a lot 
of effort into finding a mommy for Katie. Of the dates that I did go on, there was a kind of desperateness 
in the women that I didn't find appealing. 
    It wasn't long before people started to notice some of Katie's behaviors and began to make 
comments. A girl with her hand down her pants was not too unusual, but a girl who would spend 
minutes rubbing her crotch on pool furniture attracted attention. Katie was trying to hide her behavior, 
but every attempt to get her to change wasn't working. 
    Being a single father of a young girl will always get you uncomfortable and suspicious looks. But 
now, mothers were starting to pry and find any evidence of abuse. Sometimes they made excuses to take 
care of and bathe Katie. I was sure it was so they could look for signs of sexual abuse. They asked a lot 
of questions of my babysitting neighbor. 
    Katie was three and a half years old when three things happened that indicated to me that we needed 
a change of lifestyle. 
    Katie was caught by several mothers fondling other children's privates, or encouraging them to 
touch themselves. This was not too unusual for children, except that she was way too young. All the 
mothers in the complex began to openly look at me as an abuser. There were even questions of my 
fitness to be a father.
    Maybe because of peer pressure from the other neighbors, my sweet old babysitter was becoming 
more abusive in correcting Katie's behavior. Katie would come home with bruises on the backs of her 
hands and I shiver to think of how painful that must have been. 
    And finally, I had been asking around and a major soda corporation offered me a position as a 
regional representative of a multi-state region, dealing with certain contract issues with small radio 
stations. I wouldn't need to work in an office environment or meet with clients ever. As long as I took 
care of business by phone, fax, and e-mail, I could work from home.  I could now easily afford a nice 
house. 
    We moved out of the city to a beautiful and small quiet town. There were plenty of fast food places 
and a nice supermarket. That told me most of the people here were former residents of the city with 
money, and weren't too social. 
    I bought a near new house buried in the hills, on five acres of trees, rocks, and a creek. I had to be 
connected to my cell phone for ten hours a day, but there were lots of free hours waiting for calls and 
deals to develop. And, I had plenty of time to take care of Katie.
    Katie loved all of my attention and didn't seem to miss her friends at all. She especially loved all the 
freedom. She didn't have to check with me every fifteen minutes, or be trapped in my neighbor's 
apartment all day. She quickly learned the hard way what poison oak looked like and to avoid it. 
    I gave up on trying to keep Katie from rubbing herself. I could never believe that anything that 
started so young was psychological in nature. There had to be something physical. For one thing, her 
clitoris seemed really large, even for an adult woman. 
    Katie was a beautiful little girl with nothing else visibly wrong with her. She was a little more sweet 
and kind than other children, and not too spoiled or hard to manage. She never disobeyed beyond being 
told two times or threatened with punishment. As objective as a parent can possibly be, Katie was a 
normal child, except that she had to rub herself.
    I didn't really know what nymphomania was, other than a crude bar joke. So, I did my research. 
    Nymphomania is hardly considered a disorder or condition. There is no positive identification, 
criteria, or even explanation. Modern psychiatry seems to have downplayed it to an aspect of 
Hypersexuality. 
    "Hypersexuality is characterized by a debilitating need for frequent genital stimulation which, once 
achieved, may fail to result in the expected long-term sexual-or emotional-satisfaction. This 
dissatisfaction is what is believed to encourage the heightened frequency of sexual stimulation, as well 
as additional physiological and neurological symptoms."
    I thought I was smart, but this didn't seem to help anything. There was a lot of conjecture, but few 
conclusions. The part about "may fail to result in-emotional-satisfaction" really worried me. 
    I didn't think she suffered from Klüver-Bucy Syndrome, but it wouldn't matter. Klüver-Bucy is 
incurable and Katie didn't need to live with a label. 
    I took her to a doctor, who did a full physical exam with blood panels, and nothing came up 
abnormal. He wanted to do a CAT scan of her head, but I never set up the appointment. She showed no 
other signs of a tumor or cancer. I wasn't going to let her become somebody's science project. 
    Every parent wonders if they are doing everything right. I question myself, but I was becoming 
pretty sure that punishing or shaming Katie for something she couldn't help would scar her for life. 
    It was about this time that she learned how to unbutton her pants. If I could get her pants on in the 
morning, she would soon be running around the property bare from the waist down. At least I didn't 
need to wash so many clothes, but she needed a bath every night. 
    Bathing Katie had always been a delicate and tricky situation. She loved baths. Keeping her own 
soaped up hands out of her pussy was hard enough. Trying to clean or rinse there without a squeal of 
delight from her was a rarity. 
    Now I decided to let her have her way cleaning herself and see what happened. She reached down 
and ran one soapy hand between her legs. As she pulled it back out, her back arched a little, she bent her 
legs, and her breathing became ragged. She started to rub up and down. I hadn't told her to masturbate 
and she wasn't even considering that I would stop her. She seemed lost to what she was doing, enjoying 
herself too much. 
    In a way, I envied her being completely lost to pleasure. Katie's hand began to move up and down 
faster and faster. She began breathing faster and faster. Soon her hand was just shaking on her clitoris as 
she began to wiggle her hips and spread her legs in and out, trying to maximize the sensations. She 
inhaled deeply and let out a loud high pitched whine. When the whine ended her whole body relaxed 
and she rested her head against the side of the bathtub. 
    I had read that children couldn't have orgasms, but could be stimulated to something similar. I 
wasn't sure what I had watched, but it looked pleasurable and very natural.
    Katie rested a moment then looked up into my face, wide eyed and scared. She realized that she had 
just done a naughty thing right in front of me. Then she looked down, ashamed. I was becoming sure 
that nature intended her to be different. I wouldn't try to "fix" her any more.
    I reached over and lifted her chin and planted a big kiss in the middle of her forehead. Her arms 
came up and around my neck and hugged me tight. I started to lift her when I became aware that I had a 
raging hardon. It pushed at the front of my pants painfully. I had become turned on. More turned on than 
at any time since my wife died. 
    My hot and wet daughter was clinging to me and I could smell the soap on her body and her strong 
slender arms around my neck. For the first time I saw her as naked instead of unclothed. She was 
feminine now, extremely feminine. I realized that she would never be the same in my eyes. She had 
turned me on and now I had feelings I know I shouldn't have.
    I held Katie for awhile as she gently cried in relief. My hardon was getting worse. After a minute I 
pushed her back into the tub and began to rinse her off. Now, I was distinctly aware of each time I 
touched her body. I even reached between her legs to rinse and she flinched a little from the contact, but 
not with the intensity she would have had before.
    I quickly dried Katie off and shooed her out of the bathroom. Now I undressed to take a shower. I 
had never understood about cold showers. They didn't do anything except feel horrible. I took a hot 
shower and masturbated like I hadn't done in almost four years.
    After the shower, I dressed and found Katie watching TV. She asked if I was mad and I told her that 
I was wrong before and that what she did was okay. I don't know if she believed me, but she was happy 
that I wasn't angry. 
    We sat together as always. She had sat naked with me in the same recliner dozens of times, but now 
her nakedness bothered me. Often she had her hand between her legs or idly touched herself, but now 
she made no move to do so. It was an hour before she reached between her legs and rested her hand 
there. Later, she slowly and repeatedly scratched herself lightly. 
    Katie had not been cured after what I saw, but it had relieved her for awhile. Maybe she was just 
blessed with an almost endless supply of endorphins leaking into her brain. I was relieved that she could 
find a climax and that it filled her for awhile.
    But, now I had a bigger problem. When she ran around the house bottomless, it distracted me, and I 
would watch for a flash of her tush or legs. Helping Katie take a bath was almost impossible as she 
always used the opportunity to orgasm. I always had to shower after her, but my masturbation wasn't 
making a dent in my horniness. My life was becoming an erotic torture as Katie found more and more 
freedom to rub and stimulate herself, and I was becoming hornier as I watched her.
    After a few weeks, I made a tremendous mistake. We were watching TV in the same recliner 
together with Katie in my lap, and she was naked, as she almost always was. She was fingering herself 
slowly but steadily, and I had to reach for the remote. I handed her the bowl of popcorn. She made a 
little sound that she was interrupted, then I handed her the remote to choose a channel. With the popcorn 
in one hand and the remote in the other she couldn't finger herself. So, almost as a joke, I reached down 
and fingered her pussy for her. 
    Katie's eyes lost their focus and she stopped changing the channel. Her whole body flexed in an 
incredibly sexy way. I should have stopped and slapped myself, but she felt incredibly soft. I continued 
to rub up and down, lightly grazing her clitoris with each pass. She squirmed and gasped with each 
subtle movement I made. I was controlling her body like a puppet. I could make her moan or whine. If I 
pressed in one spot, her hips thrust. If I pressed in another spot, her tummy would arch out. My dick was 
rock hard under her and I was having trouble breathing myself. I couldn't stop now, she would probably 
hate me. I had to end it quickly.
    I laid my finger along the crack of her vagina and started a wave motion with my finger. The tip of 
my finger pressed on the puckered skin below her hole then deeply pushed lengthwise across the hole. 
At the top, the inside of my knuckle would push down and slightly slide against her nub. 
    When I did this, the bowl of popcorn dropped to the floor with the remote, and we didn't care. Her 
vagina seemed to swallow my finger and her arms reached up and locked around my neck and pulled. 
She pulled my face against her neck, and I inhaled her scent deeply. Her whole body was having an 
orgasm on top of my body, and I would be lying if I said I wanted to stop. 
    I was cumming in my pants with a super strong orgasm myself. Katie screamed out like I had never 
heard before and her grip on me became neckbreaking. I was afraid for her, I was ashamed of myself, 
and I was overcome by lust. 
    I must have rubbed Katie like this for two minutes, long after I had squirted my load. She finally 
grabbed my hand, pushed it away, and collapsed into me. We lay there like that as we both caught our 
breath. 
    I didn't know what to say to her, and she wasn't speaking either. Finally my guilt came crashing into 
me, and almost involuntarily, I said, "I'm sorry." 
    Katie rolled over and looked into my face. She was completely confused. My touching her felt 
much, much better than when she touched herself. She couldn't understand the rules I had broken.
    Life changed for us. Katie would do anything to get me to rub her. She became the perfect child. No 
longer did I have to make empty threats to get her to behave. Now, I would tell her that I wouldn't touch 
her and she would straighten right up. When we watched TV together, she would hold my hand to play 
with her, and before she went to bed, I would make her climax. I didn't cum with her anymore, but I 
always had to masturbate soon afterward. 
    
    We had not slept together since my wife died. Katie was far too restless and I didn't need to get 
kicked in my sleep. But, one Sunday morning when Katie was five and a half, I woke up to her rubbing 
her crotch on my face.  She had been experimenting, rubbing herself over different parts of my body for 
awhile. She especially liked my leg. But this was going a little too far. Her pussy covered my nose, and 
her clit rubbed against my teeth. 
    I don't think I meant to do it, but I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out to push away her 
pussy. Or, that is at least what I can tell myself. My tongue slid across her clit and up into her vagina. 
Katie squealed and ground down harder. Now she was attached to my face like an octopus and it would 
be a fight to get her off. 
    I was still not fully awake, it was such a natural motion, and Katie would make me do it anyway. I 
began to lick the length of her pussy, Rubbing her clit with my teeth, and sticking my tongue in her hole. 
She had long ago lost her cherry to her fingers. 
    Katie screeched, and gasped, and squealed. Her pussy was wet and I didn't know if it was just my 
saliva. It felt so good to eat my daughter. She was so soft and delicate, yet eager and full of energy. I 
knew I would pay in guilt later, but I gave her the best orgasms yet. I even rubbed my nose against her 
tiny little butthole. She rode me like a champion horseback rider.
    Finally, after a long time, she collapsed over my body, her head resting perilously close to my hard 
dick. There was still the sheet covering it. She had seen my soft dick a few times when my robe fell 
open or she walked in on me when I was changing. She had felt my hard dick through my pants as she 
sat in my lap dozens of times. I wondered how long before she figured out the connection between a 
penis and a vagina. 
    For six months Katie experimented with every position possible for oral sex. I held her upside down. 
She would squat on my face anywhere she could stand over me. She insisted I lick her pussy before bed 
every night. 
    Finally, the day came that I was in bed, and she lay on my chest with my head raised and buried 
between her legs. I am not sure why, but she reached out and grabbed my hard dick with both hands. I 
felt my dick throb and my hips buck. I tried to squirm away, but Katie knew that she had something 
important. I distracted her by forcing her to climax. 
    She rested for a few minutes, and then yanked the sheet away without warning. She could be an evil 
child. There my dick stood in depraved glory. Actually, it leaned over my stomach. She stared at it as 
though she had never seen it before. 
    Katie reached for it and I didn't stop her. She would just get it sooner or later anyway. I wasn't weak 
willed, but now that she knew about it, she would never forget it was there.
    Katie's small warm hand touched it and it jumped. She giggled. Then, she grabbed it. For five 
minutes she rubbed it, squeezed it, and looked it over thoroughly. I squirmed, sweated, and tried to think 
of other things. 
    Then, Katie stood up, stepped across me, and squatted down. She rubbed the head of my penis up 
and down her pussy. 
    "No!" I screamed. I pushed her off of me, jumped off the bed, grabbed some clothes and ran from 
the room.
    I got dressed as I walked out of the house. I started walking down the road. I had to think. Katie 
didn't know there was a connection between pussies and penises. She was just experimenting with 
something to rub herself with. But, now she knew there was something important about it. 
    Maybe I could have just laid there while she just masturbated with my penis and pretended it wasn't 
a big deal. There was no chance of that. I would have shot a huge load of cum between her legs before 
she was finished. Maybe it was okay for her to give herself pleasure, but I had been denying myself for 
too long. 
    As I walked, my hardon rubbed inside my pants. It wasn't going away. It was reacting to thoughts 
about my daughter and that was making me sick. 
    I had to calm down. Katie was older now and she had to understand about taboos, morals, and illegal 
felonies. I would just explain that she shouldn't touch me there. It should be that simple. 
    When I got back to the house, Katie was still in my room, sitting on the bed. It's easy to tell when a 
six year old girl has been crying. She wouldn't look at me and it drove a dagger through my heart. I 
apologized but explained to her that she couldn't touch my penis anymore. I told her that I could go to 
prison, or that it could screw her mind up when she was older. 
    Katie agreed, but was sad the rest of the day. That evening she asked if I would kiss her pussy like I 
had been doing. I had watched my angel mope around the house all day and I didn't see how I could 
deny her something that we had already been doing so long. 
    I smiled at Katie, lifted her up, and hungrily ate at her pussy until she came hard. Then, I put her to 
bed. 
    The next morning, while I made breakfast in my robe, Katie kept trying to peek under it. When I 
reached across the table, I felt her hand slide under and cup my balls. I scolded her and I went to put 
some underwear on. Over the next couple of days she kept trying to see or touch my penis.
    We had many difficult conversations. 
    "People will find out we're doing something wrong." I explained.
    "Shhhh." Katie whispered, "We won't tell them."
    "But the police will come and take me away forever."
    "Don't worry," she said confidently, "we won't tell them either."
    
    The conversations over the next few days basically came down to; 
    Why shouldn't she touch me? 
    It's wrong.
    How come I could touch her, but she couldn't touch me?
    I shouldn't be touching her.
    But I do, and it feels good. 
    It's wrong.
    It's wrong, but it feels good? 
    Yes, but it's wrong.
    Did it feel good when she touched me?
    Yes, but it's wrong.
    If touching me is wrong, is it wrong because it feels good?
    Yes, no, I don't think... maybe... I don't know.
    So, it felt good to her, it felt good to me, and because it felt good, that made it wrong?
    
    How do you explain to a six year old that she might be emotionally damaged for the rest of her life? 
Every morning I woke up to a wrestling match, with Katie trying to get below my covers. All day I had 
to wear pants with thick material. In the evening I couldn't let Katie sit in my lap. Yet, I would watch 
her masturbate, and I would lick and eat her pussy, several times a day. 
    Katie wouldn't do anything bad that I could punish her for, but she would never give up trying to 
reach my penis. I don't know if I gave up, or if I really wanted it. I had woken up early, but was lying in 
bed with a hardon. I heard Katie sneak into the room and onto the bed. Normally, I would grab her and 
she would pretend she had come just to wrestle. I pretended I was still asleep. I felt the sheet pulled back 
slowly from my body. I felt my underwear pulled out and over my hardon. I could not have slept 
through her stepping across me and squatting just above my hips.
    I cracked one eyelid open and saw my baby angel with her back toward me. My penis, which would 
normally have been pointed to my face, was now just below her pussy. I did nothing to stop her. She 
reached down and got a firm grip on my shaft and lifted it up. The head of my cock slid up against a 
feather soft fold of skin that felt like a sheet of silk. She had just slid the tip up the length of her pussy, 
but not into her hole. My breath whooshed out of me and my head and shoulders came off the mattress. 
    Katie froze. She knew I wasn't asleep now. She waited for me to say something. I didn't know what 
I wanted. I didn't know what to say. After a bit she slid my cock back down her pussy. I grunted. She 
paused then slid it back up. I moaned. She slid it down and I grunted. She slid it up and I moaned. 
    Katie could have had fun playing me like a musical instrument, but she was feeding her own 
pleasure. She set up a rhythm of sliding my cock head up and down her pussy that was going to make 
me cum really soon. 
    Just as top of my skull was about to explode, Katie stopped, and then shifted her weight forward. 
She had shoved the head of my cock hard up against her clitoris. She began to grind her hips like a 
cheap topless dancer. She was grinding her pussy and clitoris hard against my cock head while holding a 
deathgrip on my shaft. She began to whine as she came.
    I couldn't, and wouldn't, hold it anymore. My cock pulsed in her hand, and I shot cum right up 
against her pussy. My cock was pressed up against her hole and I am sure some hot sperm was pushed 
right up into her vagina. Her legs gave out and she sat down heavily on my lower stomach. She kept my 
cock pressed tight to her pussy. My cock continued to pump a few more spurts. I could feel hot cum 
dripping down, and plastered between us. 
    Katie hung her head down and wouldn't turn to look at me. She just waited. She had disobeyed me 
and was now waiting to receive her punishment. She wouldn't understand what had happened to my 
cock between her legs, but she waited for her punishment for that too. 
    I reached up to Katie's shoulders and pulled her backward, down onto my chest, then slid her off to 
the side and onto the bed. I then leaned over her, and gently kissed her on the forehead.
    
    Someday soon, Katie is going to figure out how to stretch herself to fit onto my cock. Then, she'll be 
fucking me a dozen times a day. 
    My little nymph is blessed with a gift. Some of the rules just don't apply to her. I wouldn't trade a 
day of her pleasure for all the rules in the world.
    Is this your favorite? Should I take the time to finish it?
Email: pedrofeelya@gmail.com
The rest of my stories are at: http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Pedro_Feelya/

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
        
