Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 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:
/files/Authors/Pedro_Feelya/