REFORMED.TXT "The Reformed Child-Abuser" (Mf, cons, teen, incest)

     Child abuse takes many forms.  Quite often neglect can be 
just as insidious as actively doing something to hurt a child.

     On the other hand, sometimes what is child-abuse in one 
circumstance is perfectly normal in some other circumstance or 
society.  What is the accepted way in the United States might be 
a terrible way to treat a child in some other country.  
Conversely, what is accepted and even encouraged there, might be 
considered the worst kind of abuse here.

     This story is about just such an upside-down situation.  It 
is a spoof, though at first it doesn't sound like one.  If you 
don't have a sense of humor about such matters, especially when 
it comes to the idea of children having sex, then skip this 
story: it is not for you.  If you do, then read on.

     For those of you interested, this is yet another story in 
the "Sex Education Class" universe.  It was inspired by one of 
the commercials in "A Day in the Life of Suzy Jenkins" where one 
of the upcoming shows was to be about "Men who abuse their 
daughters."  this story purportedly was written by such a man, 
after he was "reformed."    ;-}


     NN    NN   OOOOOO   TTTTTTTT   IIIIII    CCCCCC   EEEEEEEE            
     NNN   NN  OO    OO     TT        II     CC    CC  EE                  
     NNNN  NN  OO    OO     TT        II     CC        EE                  
     NN NN NN  OO    OO     TT        II     CC        EEEEE               
     NN  NNNN  OO    OO     TT        II     CC        EE                  
     NN   NNN  OO    OO     TT        II     CC    CC  EE                  
     NN    NN   OOOOOO      TT      IIIIII    CCCCCC   EEEEEEEE            


     DON'T LET YOUR KIDS SEE THIS!

     And don't try this at home, these are trained professionals. 
You, or someone you love could get hurt, if this isn't done under 
expert supervision.

     Anyone doing anything, and trying to point to this, as an 
example, is full of horse-turds.  This is a story.  It is not a 
recommendation of something to do.  In fact, I strongly urge 
anyone even contemplating doing the things suggested by this 
story to seek professional help.  In a hurry!

     Final warning!
     This story contains straight sex, between a man and a young 
girl.  This is definitely NOT "safe-sex".  It is, however 
completely willing, consensual sex.  Absolutely NO force.  If 
this isn't your cup of tea, then stop now.

     Now, after all this stupid editorial, ON WITH THE STORY!





                The Reformed Child-Abuser
                         An Erotic Story

     "MISTER Peters," the firm voice of the sexy young woman 
hauled me back from my daydreams, "you said you wanted help, so 
please pay attention."
     "Sorry," I mumbled.
     "Now remember, you agreed for your daughter's sake to take 
this course," she reminded me.  "Or would it help to keep your 
attention, if I took some of my clothes off?"  Cathy Morgenstern 
looked eager at the prospect.
     I sweated.  This was one of the reasons I had been scared to 
come here.  Still, a licensed, bonded, nymphomaniac like Cathy 
would probably be able to help me if anyone could.  "Uh, not 
quite yet," I said, putting it off.  "It would probably distract 
me, more than help at the moment."
     "Whatever you say," she replied, "Still, you got to get used 
to the idea of seeing other women besides your wife naked, and 
even get used to fucking them, if we're going to solve your 
problem."
     "I know," I answered, "but just not yet, please?"  The 
reminder of my wife made me even more nervous.  Even though she 
had been the one pressuring me to come here, I found it hard to 
believe Lois REALLY wanted me to, to, to . . fuck some other 
woman. . . No, not just some other woman.  Lois wanted me to 
fuck. . . I couldn't do it.
     "You DO love your daughter, don't you?" asked the counselor 
with some sympathy.
     I nodded, unable to say much more.  That was the whole idea.  
I was thoroughly disgusted with myself.  Once I watched that TV 
show about parents who abused their children and realized that I 
was such an abuser, I had been feeling so guilty I could barely 
live with myself.  I mean, previous to that, I had never even 
THOUGHT that what I was doing to Sherry could be considered 
abuse.  In fact, just the opposite.  It shows just how you can 
fool even yourself about things.  I mean, sex with my own 
daughter?  I had never even thought about it in terms of abuse.  
Except possibly the other way around.
     Now, my secret was out, and I knew the shame Sherry must 
feel at school, every time the other children looked at her.  Or 
talked about her behind her back.  That her own father would 
treat her like that.  I felt lower than a snake's-belly in a 
swamp.  It hadn't been until the "Opra Nymph" show, where I heard 
several parents like me trying to justify their abuse, that I 
realized just how perverted I had been.  Thank goodness for the 
child-abuse hot-line they showed on the screen.
     With that, and my wife's help, I had agreed to take a course 
to help me overcome the effects of the abuse I had received as a 
child.  So hopefully the chain of abuse would stop now.  I had 
never realized until now, how much abuse begets abuse.







                                1


     Still, the fact that MY parents had neglected me sexually, 
seemed to lead inevitably to this day, where I was sexually 
abusing my own daughter by refusing her the love that everyone 
else her age was getting.
     I felt so ashamed of myself.  Still, I hadn't been able to 
bring myself to break the habits of years of abuse.  Thus (with 
my wife's help,) I had signed up for this course.
     I hoped that Cathy could really help me overcome the 
ingrained habits I was taught by my parents, so I could finally 
have the truly loving relationship with my daughter that other 
children did.  "Let's get on with it," I sighed.
     "Oh, it won't be all THAT bad," giggled Cathy, with a sexy 
wriggle to her body.  "In fact, I'll practically guarantee you'll 
like it.  Do you mind if I sit in your lap?"  With this, the Sex-
Education counselor had somehow managed to be almost IN my lap, 
before she finished the question.
     I guess I was lucky to get a full-fledged Nympho like Cathy.  
It had been kind of her to take time off from tutoring sex-
starved teenaged boys to help an old man with sexual dysfunction.  
(OK, 35 is not all that old, and the fact that she knew I had an 
8-inch prick probably helped.  Still, most family counselors were 
only a little oversexed.  Having a certified nymphomaniac like 
Cathy help me was almost unbelievably lucky.  Or maybe not really 
just luck.  My wife had connections.)
     Cathy slithered into my lap in a manner that almost had me 
sprouting an erection before we even got started.  (OK,  OK!  Not 
almost.  I was hard as a rock.)
     "Jack," she whispered throatily in my ear, "You don't mind 
if I call you Jack, do you?  After all, we're going to get REAL 
close in the next half-hour or so."
     My arms wanted to wrap themselves around this incredible 
hunk of woman, but the training of years stopped me.  "Uh Lois," 
I said, "My wife. . ."
     "Don't be silly," said Cathy, nibbling on my ear, "who sent 
you over here?"
     "Uh, Lois," I stammered.  Somehow my arms had found their 
way around this incredible girl and the sensation of sexy skin 
against mine was driving me wild.
     "And why did she send you here?" prompted Cathy, as she 
nuzzled my neck.
     The smell of her was driving me nuts.  Cathy didn't have any 
perfume on.  She didn't need it.  The scent of fresh, clean 
woman, and the smell of her long brown hair was driving me up the 
wall.
     "Uh, to learn how to approach sex in a more normal manner," 
I stuttered.
     "To feel free and easy about sex," prompted Cathy, sliding a 
hand underneath my shirt.
     Wow, what a difference between a normally oversexed woman 
like my wife, and a licensed nymphomaniac.  Her seduction 
techniques were incredible.
     "Something like that," I admitted.





                                2


     "To enjoy sex with other women," prompted Cathy again, "so 
you won't continue hurting your little girl by taking your 
frustrations out on her."
     Cathy was right.  That WAS why I was here, and by trying to 
resist, I was defeating the whole purpose.  I owed it to my wife 
and daughter to at least TRY responding.  That wouldn't be all 
THAT hard, would it?
     I relaxed a little, and let Cathy flow into my arms like a 
wet-dream.  This time, when she tried to kiss me, I kissed back; 
hungrily.
     I felt Cathy's tongue licking my lips, and opened my mouth.  
To my surprise, I got a mouthful of lively wriggling tongue.  In 
all our years of marriage, Lois and I had NEVER kissed like that.  
Still, it was incredibly sexy!  I resolved to show Lois this new 
trick, after I was "cured".  Well, perhaps she would already know 
it, since she was taking lessons from the local male satyr at the 
center.
     With any luck, both of us would be normally functioning 
adults; able to have a proper sexual relationship in our family 
after this.  I hoped so, for Sherry's sake.  My poor little girl.
     "Relax; let it flow," crooned Cathy, as she somehow snuggled 
even closer.  It was almost like she was a second skin of mine.  
I found that my hands had somehow made their way up underneath 
Cathy's halter, and were massaging her lovely breasts without any 
conscious volition on my part.
     At 18, Cathy's body was just coming into it's prime.  I knew 
that not many women managed to pass the boards for nymphomania 
before they were 18, but Cathy had been working as sex-instructor 
for at least two years already.  This was especially helpful, 
when dealing with problems like mine.  Since my problem was 
having sex with a little girl, it helped tremendously to have 
someone as young as Cathy start me in the normal direction.  By 
the time we were finished, Maybe Sherry and I could enjoy time 
together just like any normal father and daughter, instead of 
having my sexual hangup with young girls come between us.
     Being as young as she was, yet definitely mature, Cathy was 
slowly directing my sexual arousal to a more normally accepted 
type.
     "Oooh, that feels good," she said, as my fingers dug deeper 
into her soft mounds.  "Here, let me get this off," she said, 
struggling to get me out of my shirt.
     Two minutes later, we were both in a clinch on the couch.  
(Well, actually it was more like a bed, but that was to be 
expected for a sex-counselor.)
     "Now tell me," Cathy purred, as she reached in my pants and 
started rubbing my swollen prick, "how sexy your little girl is."
     Cathy's smooth cool hands almost had me squirting thick 
sticky white-stuff all over her, but she was an expert, and knew 
just exactly how far to go.  Besides, the reminder about Sherry 
made my prick wilt a little.
     "Uh, I don't think," I started.
     "Sure you do," murmured Cathy, stopping for a second to 
tickle my nipple with her tongue.  "Your daughter is a very sexy 
young girl.  I'm sure you've noticed it too.  Otherwise, you 
wouldn't be here.  So tell me about her."


                                3


     "Uh, Sherry's just a little girl!" I expostulated.
     "Uhuh, and so am I," said Cathy.  "Feel."
     Cathy led my and down into her silky little panties, until I 
felt something wet and slippery,  Two soft mounds parted before 
my finger, as I caught my breath.  Cathy was as bare as a 5-year-
old child!  Her little cunny-lips were as naked as any little 
girl I had ever imagined; without even a trace of stubble to show 
she ever HAD any hair down there.
     "See," she said, "little girls DO turn you on."  Her voice 
suddenly shifted range, and she piped up in a little-girl voice, 
"Ooh Daddy!  What's this big thing in your pants?  C'n I play 
with it?  Please Daddy?"
     The scenario was incredibly real.  My prick began spouting 
thick white cream all over Cathy's milking little hand.
     "Oh Daddy," she pouted, still in that incredible little-girl 
voice, "you were supposed to squirt that stuff in me, like Momma 
said.  You promised me you'd teach me how to make a baby; and now 
you gone and wasted it!"
     I tried to get into the fantasy.  Surprisingly, it wasn't 
all that hard to do after all.  "It's OK Honey," I said, patting 
the "little girl" on the head.  "Daddy's got a lot more of that 
white-stuff for his little girl.  Why don't you and I get ALL 
undressed, so Daddy can show you how he makes babies in little 
girls."
     Oh God!  I WAS a pervert after all!  I couldn't believe how 
much I was enjoying this fantasy.
     Cathy kept up the illusion.  "Really Daddy," she squealed.  
"Promise?"
     I had never lied to my real daughter, and I didn't want to 
start with this imaginary one.  "Promise," I said.
     "Oooh Daddy," she said in that sexy little girl squeal, "I 
can't wait to have a baby like Marsha did.  She's been showing 
off her big belly; showing everybody how her daddy is taking care 
of her.  I want to show her that I can fuck my daddy just as good 
as she does.  I can't wait to see her face, when my tummy starts 
to stick out."
     At this reminder of the way I had been mistreating Sherry, I 
almost lost my hard-on, but Cathy never gave me a chance.  "Fuck 
me Daddy," she said, "Please?"  rubbing her bare little slit 
against my prick, while she did so.  Somehow Cathy had managed to 
slip out of her short little dress and flimsy panties, while I 
was distracted.  "Please Daddy?" she repeated.
     I did it.  Cathy's teasing had gotten to be too much.  For 
the first time in over 14 years, I fucked someone other than my 
wife.  I couldn't even make my self feel properly guilty, as I 
knew that Lois had not only set me up with this girl (woman) but 
actually WANTED me to fuck her.  Not just once, but many times; 
until I finally got over this "thing" I had about my daughter, 
and was able to treat both her and Sherry like any normal man 
would his wife and daughter.
     Well, at least this fantasy was safer than doing the real 
thing to Sherry.
     As I said, I fucked Cathy; really getting into the fantasy 
of her being my daughter, and giving the little girl what she so 
obviously wanted.


                                4


     "Oh," I said, "Daddy's going to do it.  I'm going to squirt 
your sexy little tummy so full of baby-juice you'll be having 
kids for the next six years."
     Cathy let out an involuntary giggle at this; spoiling for a 
moment the illusion of a father screwing the heck out of his 
little girl.  I grinned back at her.  It WAS funny.
     Then Cathy slipped easily back into the role.  "Oh Goody," 
she squealed, "I promised Momma I'd give her at least three kids 
to raise, before I get married.  I'll show that stuck up old 
Marsha who really loves her daddy!"
     This was too much.  I jammed my suddenly erupting prick up 
to the hilt in Cathy's squirming little belly, as I felt jet 
after jet of potent sperm squirt into her unprotected young womb.  
Professional nymphos like Cathy deliberately never used birth-
control; preferring to take the risk of having a baby, in order 
to get that extra thrill from their partners of knowing that 
every time she screwed she might be creating a new life.
     Since the government covered all costs, and kept her salary 
going when she did, it's no wonder that so many girls envied 
those women who managed to get their certificates.  Not many 
women could take the challenge of unlimited nymphomania, but the 
rewards were well worth it.
     Just knowing that this sexy young girl not only didn't mind 
if I got her pregnant, but was trying as hard as I was to do it, 
made me squirt more sperm inside her than I usually squirted in 
my wife in a week.  The fantasy of it being my own daughter I was 
getting pregnant, just added to the sexiness of the scene.
     "Thanks Daddy," said Cathy; still acting like the little 
girl.  "I hope I'm pregnant now," she added.
     Somehow I knew that Cathy was being sincere, even though she 
was still pretending to be my daughter.  Even the knowledge that 
not 10 minutes after I left, Cathy would probably be asking some 
completely different man to knock her up; and meaning it then 
too, did little to detract from the erotic moment.
     "Well, if not," I snickered, "then I guess Daddy will just 
have to keep trying until he does."
     We both burst into a fit of giggles at that.
     "See," said Cathy; for a moment the professional woman 
again.  "Does that make you feel a little bit better about 
fucking your little girl?"
     My face flamed red.  I was STILL ashamed to admit how much I 
had really enjoyed the little fantasy.
     Cathy noticed.  "I see 'Daddy' and I need to work on things 
a bit more," she teased.
     My face flamed even brighter if possible.
     "Well, I can see that this will take a little bit sterner 
measures," said Cathy.
     I looked at her.  Pretending I was fucking my own little 
girl wasn't enough for one session?  Obviously not.
     Cathy went over to a machine on her desk, and pushed a 
button.  "Yes Ms. Morgenstern?" came the tinny voice of her 
sexretary.  "It's like I figured," said Cathy, "I'm going to have 
to do what I said earlier.  So set things up like I told you to, 
and make sure we aren't disturbed for at least two hours.  OK?"



                                5


     "OK Cathy," said the voice, suddenly seeming friendlier.  
"I'll set things up just like you said.  No calls."  There was a 
<click> as the line closed.
     "Now," said Cathy throatily, "I've got you all to myself for 
at least two hours.  We're going to explore this thing you have 
for your daughter in real depth."  She suddenly giggled again.  
"Or, as for the time being, I'm going to be acting as your 
daughter; we're going to explore that 'thing' you have IN your 
little girl."  Her giggles were infectious.
     Well, it WAS funny.  Soon I was chuckling right along with 
her.  "Yeah," I said, getting into the act again, "there's this 
'thing' my daughter and I have to get straight between us."  Oh 
GOD, what a line!
     For almost five minutes we lay gasping and giggling 
together; rolling around on the floor gasping out corny old jokes 
about the "bone I wanted to pick" with my daughter, and how we 
were going to "work things out together."  Rolling naked on the 
floor with a sexy young woman while you make obscene jokes is 
indescribably sexy.  It didn't take long for my prick to be as 
erect as if I hadn't just filled Cathy's cute little tummy full 
of baby-making sperm not more than 30 minutes earlier.  Well, 
Cathy WAS a professional.  WHAT a girl.  Still, I'm glad I 
married a more normal woman.  Two weeks with a nymhpo like Cathy, 
and I'd be dead.
     That's why Nymphos and Satyrs rarely if ever married.  
Still, there WAS the guy down at work, who was married to a 
school-nurse.  She got her sex every day down at school; fucking 
all the horny teenaged boys, until she was able to come home to 
the man she loved without wearing him out.  He STILL usually 
fucked her about twice a day anyway.
     It's no wonder that Nymphomaniacs were so rare and valuable.  
Almost as rare as the true Satyr.  I shuddered at the thought of 
giving my life up for sex.
     I mean I LIKE sex, but it was NOT everything.  To a nymph or 
satyr, that's all they lived for.  For a moment I pitied Cathy.  
Then her good nature and incredible sexiness made me realize that 
she was not to be pitied.  Cathy obviously loved her work too 
much for pity.  If you're happy with your work, then what more do 
you need?

     As I said, my erection grew back, and we made jokes about 
what to do with it, or where to "hide" that "thing" before some 
"innocent little girl" came along and saw it.  God it was funny!
     Finally Cathy looked at me and asked, "Jack, do you trust 
me?"
     "Huh?" I asked.  "Of course I do," I said, and meant it.  
Not only was Cathy a certified, licensed, and BONDED 
nymphomaniac, but after that incredible scene earlier, I felt as 
if we'd been friends for life.  It's amazing how having sex with 
someone breaks the ice, so to speak.
     "Then lie down," said Cathy; pointing to the bed, "I want to 
tie you up."
     My eyebrows must have vanished into my hairline, but I did 
it anyway.  I would never have imagined Cathy was into bondage, 
but I guess as a pro, she had to be into a little of everything.


                                6


     Cathy picked up four soft-looking ropes and pointed out to 
me that a big strong man like me COULD break them, but she was 
counting on me not to try.  I promised I wouldn't.
     In an amazingly short time Cathy had me spread-eagled on the 
bed; as with a few quick turns of her wrists she tied each hand 
and foot securely to eye-bolts mounted in the frame that I hadn't 
noticed before.  Cathy had quite obviously done this quite often 
before.
     As she tied me down, Cathy started explaining.  "The main 
reason for the ropes," she said, "is so you can't take the hood 
off."  Here Cathy showed me a black hood; obviously designed to 
make it impossible to see through.
     I wondered just how far she was going to go?  Whips and 
chains?  As long as she didn't go TOO far, I guess I'd try it.  
Still, I was a little worried.  "Are you going to gag me too?" I 
asked.
     I guess my worries must have showed, because Cathy hastened 
to reassure me.  "Oh NO!" she said, "I'm not going to hurt you at 
all.  The hood is just so you can't see.  If you did, it would 
spoil the fantasy."
     "Huh?" I asked, as I watched Cathy rummage in a drawer for 
something.
     "See this?" she asked, showing me something that looked like 
a cross between a condom and a woman's diaphragm.  I guess you'd 
have to expect something like that in a professional nympho's 
office.
     "What is it?" I asked, testing the ropes.  I figured Cathy 
was right; I COULD get loose if I HAD to.  I didn't want to spoil 
whatever she was working so hard to set up though.  After that 
previous fantasy, I knew Cathy had sexual talents I had never 
heard of.
     "It's a fake hymen."
     "Huh?"
     "It's an artificial hymen," she explained.  "Some men like 
to pretend they're fucking a virgin, and this almost feels like 
the real thing.  It's designed to break, unlike a diaphragm or 
condom; so it almost feels like taking a woman's virginity.  You 
remember that scene earlier?"
     How could I forget?  I nodded, as best I could in my bonds.
     "Well, I'm going to pretend I'm a little girl who gets her 
cherry popped by her own father.  Only I don't want you to be 
looking at me, as it will spoil the illusion.  You know how tight 
I was?"
     Again I nodded.
     "Well you ain't felt nothing yet.  They give us lessons 
before we are certified, and I could squeeze the neck off a coke-
bottle."  Somehow, I knew she wasn't kidding.
     "So now let me slip this hood over your head, while I 
practice my voices."
     The world went suddenly black, and her voice seemed to 
shift.  "First," she said, "I'm going to try and imitate your 
wife."
     Cathy's voice was now lower and huskier, but she didn't have 
it quite right.  I told her so.



                                7


     "How's this?" she said, correcting herself.
     "Better," I acknowledged, "not perfect, but better."
     Actually, Cathy was incredibly good.  Though, after hearing 
her trick voice earlier, when she pretended to be my daughter, I 
wasn't surprised.
     "How about this, as your daughter?" she said in the same 
voice she had used earlier.  My penis strained at the very 
thought of my little girl seeing me bound and naked like this.  
"Not quite," I groaned.  "She's a little higher than that, and 
she lisps a little because of her missing teeth."
     Once again, her voice seemed to shift.  "You mean like this, 
Daddy?" she asked.
     "Oh God," I said; she really WAS good.
     "Good," said Cathy, in her more normal voice.  "Now I want 
you to pretend you are sleeping, when you hear your wife and 
daughter enter the room.  Whatever you do, don't act like you're 
awake, or know that they're there.  OK?"
     "OK," I agreed, and closed my eyes, to complete the 
illusion.  The hood was unnecessary.  If Cathy had asked, I would 
have kept my eyes closed anyway.

     "Sssst!" came the whisper.  "Watch it Honey, you'll wake 
Daddy."
     "Sorry Momma, I slipped."  Cathy was incredible.
     I listened closely to the obscene conversation.
     "Oh Momma," came the sweet little girl voice, "you were 
right, Daddy DOES sleep naked.  Is that his cock?"
     "Uhuh.  See that sack underneath it?" came the other voice.
     I let myself drift into Cathy's fantasy.  If she wanted me 
to pretend it was my wife and daughter, I was willing.  
Especially, if this would help me resolve my problems at home.
     "That's Daddy's testicles," said Lois.  "It's where Daddy 
makes sperm."
     "Oh wow Mommy, you mean the things that make babies?"
     "Uhuh.  Daddy stores his sperm inside his body, until he 
fucks someone, and then he squirts it out of his penis up inside 
her.  That's how babies are made."
     "You mean if daddy squirted his stuff in me, then I'd have a 
baby too?"
     "Well, Maybe.  Some girls don't get pregnant right away, and 
you have to be old enough."
     "Ginny Summers is two years younger than I am, and she 
already has TWO babies by her father," said Sherry.  "How come I 
can't have Daddy's baby like everybody else does?"
     Oh Jesus!  The very reason I was in Cathy's office.  For a 
second, my prick started to wilt, but I managed to steel myself, 
and face the fact I was a pervert.
     "Daddy doesn't want to hurt you Honey."
     "Daddy doesn't love me!  Heck, even little Carol across the 
street is pregnant, and I've never even gotten fucked yet.  Daddy 
doesn't love me," repeated Sherry.
     This time, my prick DID wilt, at the thought of how I had 
been abusing my little girl.  I resolved that as soon as Cathy 
finished this, I was going home and apologize to my wife and 
daughter for being so cruel.


                                8


     In the meantime, the whispering continued.
     "Why don't you try it now, while he's sleeping," asked my 
wife.
     "But Momma, it's too soft, it'll never go inside me."
     Soft?  Maybe.  But I knew it wouldn't be for long, after 
that obscene suggestion.
     "You'll just have to make it hard."
     "How Momma?"
     <whisper> <whisper>
     "SUCK on it?!  But Momma!"
     "Oh here, I'll show you," It was absolutely amazing how 
Cathy got the exasperated tone of my wife down pat.
     My admiration was distracted by Cathy's warm mouth 
descending on my prick.  She didn't have quite the expertise you 
might expect from a professional nympho, but it was amazingly 
accurate as a wife showing her little girl how.
     "Now you try it," she instructed.
     This time, the pretended clumsiness almost made me laugh.  
Even virgins aren't THAT clumsy.  Cathy even nicked me a couple 
of times with her teeth before pulling off to ask, "How's that 
Momma?"
     After about three more tries, Cathy was doing a better job 
than even when she started.  Again, I almost giggled.  If a 
little girl was that inexperienced to start with, then no way 
would she learn that fast either.  Still, I didn't want to spoil 
everything by laughing.
     Just as I was getting into having one of the best blow-jobs 
of my life it stopped.  "What?" asked Sherry.
     "You don't want to suck him off dear," said my wife.
     "Oh?  What do I do now, then?"
     "Swing your leg over you father, and put it up inside you," 
Lois instructed.
     "OK, Momma."
     There was a shifting on the bed, and I felt two silky-smooth 
legs spread around my middle, and a hand was reaching down and 
grabbing my throbbing prick.
     "What do I do now Momma?" repeated the little girl.
     "Rub the head around until it's slippery, then slide down as 
far as you can."
     The feel of Cathy's baby-smooth cunny lips stretching around 
the head of my prick almost made me cum right then, but I wanted 
to finish this fantasy just as much as Cathy did.  The thought of 
that fake "hymen" waiting to be broken was enough to make me grit 
my teeth, and fight down the rising surge until I managed to 
control myself.  Just in time too; as the head of my prick 
slipped into an incredibly tight ring at the entrance to Cathy's 
tight pussy.
     She was right.  Cathy had muscles that could snap a man's 
prick right off.  God, was she tight.  With fake whimpers and 
mewls she forced herself down, until the head of my prick reached 
that rubber barrier.






                                9


     By this time, I didn't CARE about the "fake virginity".  All 
I wanted was to be bottomed out in Cathy, while I filled her sexy 
little womb with jet after jet of sperm.  Only now, I was 
imagining that it WAS Sherry that I was fucking, and it would be 
my own daughter's unprotected young womb that I would be 
squirting my incestuous seed into.  Cathy's treatment WAS having 
an effect on me, after all.
     "Do it.  Do it," I muttered under my breath, pushing up hard 
into my "daughter".
     "Momma, Daddy's waking up," said Sherry.
     "Slide DOWN," Said the older voice.
     Obediently, Cathy shifted her body lower.
     "Oh!  It HURTS," said the "Sherry" voice.
     Suddenly everything stopped for a moment, as Cathy leaned 
closer to me.  "Promise you won't take the hood off? she asked.  
My arms were aching from trying to grab her, and I guess Cathy 
could tell.
     "Promise," I groaned.
     The knots must have been slip-knots, and on longer ropes 
than I remembered; because first on the other, then all four 
ropes came loose, without Cathy having to shift more than an inch 
or two from on top of me.
     I reached for her, and pulled her down.
     "It HURTS," repeated Cathy; hamming it up for all she was 
worth.
     The damned rubber fake wouldn't break.  Cathy pulled herself 
up about two about two inches, then said, "SIT DOWN," in my 
wife's voice, as she thrust herself down hard, as if forced down 
by someone else.  There was a straining moment, then my prick 
burst through the rubber ring, and slid home inside her.
     Oh god, did that feel good!  Cathy continued to make little 
whimpering noises, as if it still hurt her, before telling me to, 
"Cum in me Daddy."
     Oh shit.  By this time, I was fully into it.  If my little 
girl wanted me to squirt her tight little crack full of her 
daddy's greasy cum, then I would.  No more apologies.  No more 
holding back.  I didn't care about the neighbors any more, and 
what they thought about me screwing or not screwing my own 
daughter.  If Sherry wanted me to fuck her, and even knock her 
up, then I would.  If she didn't, then I wouldn't touch her.  It 
no longer mattered to me what the neighbors thought, or Sherry's 
classmates thought if she showed up with a big belly; it only 
mattered what Sherry herself thought.  I was no longer worried 
about social workers, Cathy, or even my wife.
     "Oh SHERRY," I groaned, as I sent bolt after bolt of rich 
creamy seed into my little girl's body.  "Daddy loves you so."
     "I. . . Love. . . You. . . Too . . . Daddy," 'Sherry' 
replied; shivering on top of me.  I wrapped my arms around her, 
and cuddled her close.  "At 18, you'd think that Cathy would 
weigh more," I thought, as the last trickles of cum leaked out of 
my prick into her welcoming young womb.
     "Daddy," asked Cathy, still using her 'Sherry' voice.
     "Yes Dear."  Somehow it didn't seem wrong to call Cathy 
"Dear" even if she was playing the role of my daughter.



                                10


     "If I don't get pregnant this time, promise you'll keep 
trying until I do?"
     "Promise," I replied, as Cathy untied the hood, and slid it 
off my head.
     For a moment, I blinked in the sudden light at my daughter 
sitting on top of me, with her tight little hole still squeezing 
my prick in a warm comfortable manner.  "I promise," I repeated; 
looking over at my wife to see her pleased reaction as I did so.
     "Daddy!" said Sherry; suddenly looking annoyed, as she sat 
up; forcing a little more of my softening prick up inside her, 
"You knew!  Didn't you?"
     I grinned and shrugged.  What could I say?  I had been 
suspicious ever since Cathy showed me that "fake virginity" just 
before covering my head with the hood.  Once her voice shifted 
position, I had been fairly sure.  Still I COULD have been wrong.  
I grinned at my two lovers.
     "Thanks girls," I said to both of them; and, "I owe you 
one," to my wife.
     "Where's Cathy?" I asked, as we finally uncoupled.
     Hurriedly Sherry grabbed the "fake virginity" and used the 
fancy diaphragm to keep my sperm bottled up inside her.  It was 
obvious that the 13-year-old DID want to have her father's baby, 
just like all the neighbor kids were doing.
     "She left about a half-hour ago," giggled Lois.  "She was 
too horny, and couldn't wait for another go at you.  Besides, she 
had another appointment with the football team."
     "You're kidding," I said; but it was more of a question than 
a statement.
     "Well, that's what I thought, but you never know with 
Cathy. . ."
     There was a loud "Thump-Bang" from the adjoining room, then 
a loud, "Hey, it's MY turn!"  Followed by a giggle that we all 
recognized as Cathy's.

     . . . On the other hand, you never really did know with 
Cathy.

     So now, I suppose you all wonder why I'm telling you this 
story.
     It's just to prove to you that there IS hope with proper 
help; even for child abusers like myself.  Are you one of those 
men who is so cruel and hardhearted that they not only won't get 
their little girls pregnant, but they refuse to even fuck them?  
Are you a mother who has sunk so low as to not only refuse to 
bear your son's children, but won't even let them get release by 
squirting their sperm inside you when it IS safe?
     Well, I'm here to show you that there IS hope.
     Right now, my daughter Sherry is six-months pregnant:  Her 
swollen belly a convincing proof to her classmates that her 
father is no longer neglecting her.  With help, you too can learn 
how to be a truly loving father.
     With modern treatment, and help from your local social-
services department's qualified satyr or nymphomaniac, you too 
can learn to properly express your love for your children in the 
best way possible: by having sex with them.


                                11


     Don't let YOUR children grow up to be bitter abusers like I 
was.  With proper loving, your little girl can proudly show off 
HER baby, or swollen tummy just like the other girls do.
     And Mothers can show off their son's potency, by letting all 
their friends know that THEIR baby or swollen belly was put their 
by the one closest to them in the whole world.  Their own son.

     Don't delay.  If you think you even MIGHT be neglecting your 
little girl because she's "too young" then call right now our 
toll-free number 1-800-INCEST-NOW for a free consultation.  
Remember, NO age is "too young" to start showing love for your 
children.  When THEY want sex, is the age they should start.
     I'm saying this as an ex-abuser.  You don't want YOUR 
children to grow up thinking sex is nasty and wicked, and only 
for adults.  Call 1-800-INCEST-NOW for a free brochure for men, 
on how to fuck your little girl for the first time.  Also 
available free, is a brochure for women, on how and when to get 
pregnant by your little boy; including hints on what to do if 
you're approaching menopause faster than your son is approaching 
puberty.
     That's 1-800-INCEST-NOW.  Call right away!
     Your children need you.



































                                12
