by Sarah J.
Story Codes: g/FF, Fdom, gdom, ped, nc, bd, sad, ws, scat, tort
Warning:
The narrative deals with underage persons.
If you
find this offensive, then please don’t read it.
The
following story is a purely fictional account. Any relationship to any real
person living or dead is absolutely coincidental. The narrative deals with underage persons and the author in no
way condones or promotes sex with minors, nor any of the other acts depicted in
this work – but… Sarah thinks any adult who enjoys reading about such things
should be free to do so.
Summary:
A woman’s
obsession with her own daughter leads both her, and her best friend into a
nightmare world, where neither will ever escape from the clutches of ‘Little
Charisse’ again.
Vanessa
had been in love with her own daughter since the child was born, someone had
called it obsessive once; Vanessa didn’t see that person anymore. Everything
Charisse did was perfect, everything she said… the child had been doted on all
her life and the psychological marks were there for everyone to see – everyone
except Vanessa that is. Suzanne was supposed to be the modifying force.
Vanessa’s best friend since High School (and Charisse’s God-Mother), Suzanne had
tried her best to balance her obsessive friend’s behavior – without
confrontation of course. Vanessa would never allow that. If you spoke out
openly against Charisse then you were dismissed, like a maid caught stealing.
So Suzanne tried slow, gentle persuasion, but the effect was minimal. This odd
dynamic was heightened by Suzanne’s naturally good-natured, submissive nature,
and her friend’s powerful, domineering, personality. It pinned Suzanne in the
friendship, though it wasn’t really a friendship that anyone would recognize as
such. Over the years Suzanne had become little more than ‘an assistant’ to
Vanessa in the all-encompassing obsession that was Charisse.
Suzanne had her successes of course
– like the time when Charisse was very young she persuaded Vanessa that she
shouldn’t keep the child’s dirty diapers. The woman felt that Charisse’s very
waste was precious, how could you give that to the garbage men? Suzanne joked
with another mutual friend that the woman would have offered them to the Smithsonian,
except she didn’t think it good enough. Suzanne pulled it off by subtly
pointing out that there could be a health hazard to Charisse herself… anything
that threatened the child was taken seriously. But Suzanne ended up having to
remove the ‘collection’ herself, taking the black bags from Vanessa’s garage to
her home, she had to promise to open each one, and scrape the child’s shit into
a hole in her own yard. In each little pit she planted a rose bush, as
instructed. The diapers were then carefully folded, placed back in the plastic
bags and buried in Suzanne’s yard.
From
another perspective, Suzanne was seen by many to be as crazy as her friend, a
part of the weird little trio, just another of The Goddess Charisse’s servants – and those people knew nothing of the
most extreme aspects. But Suzanne could no more recognize the full extent of
her friend’s madness, than she could see her own. Vanessa had plenty of money,
a pay off from Charisse‘s estranged father, but Suzanne would willingly agree
to contribute financially the weird needs of her friend - the gigantic freezers
that stored the child’s excreta and urine for one (Vanessa had finally found a
solution that got around Suzanne’s argument). Since the highly emotional
incident with the diapers, Vanessa had been freezing Charisse’s excrement. When
the basement could hold no more freezers, Suzanne’s house was taken over for
the purpose. In the end Suzanne’s grip on reality became little better than her
friend’s, so her balancing influence waned, and things went from bad to worse.
After an angry letter, Charisse’s father agreed to fund a maid, but somehow
that became Suzanne, even though the exact moment she agreed to the setup
wasn’t clear. Nothing much was clear to Suzanne anymore – only Vanessa and Charisse…
always Charisse. So Suzanne quit her job and moved in with Vanessa and the center
of both their twisted universes – Charisse. Suzanne’s house was turned into a
storage bay for the rows of huge freezers and their precious, but odd contents.
The
detached trio became increasingly immersed in their insular world. As a toddler
Charisse was kept apart from other children, her mother never found any of them
worthy. And when the child was six or seven an ‘experiment’ to sent her to
school ended on the first day, when the teacher refused to call the little girl
‘Miss
Charisse’ – and to Vanessa’s horror, said the other children wouldn’t do so
either. From then on Charisse was home schooled – thus allowing the obsession
that shaped the lives of the three females to spiral unchecked.
Charisse
had no friends, and didn’t understand the concept anyway. Her world contained
only herself, Charisse, with some input from the two women, who fluttered
around her constantly like funny little hummingbirds. Charisse didn’t love the
women, not even the one that was her mother, she didn’t really even like them
in the true sense of the word, the child never had the need to develop such
emotions. Charisse was all that mattered; Charisse was all that was important…
everything was Charisse.
Charisse’s
tenth birthday was highly ritualized, the tall fair-haired woman, her mother,
pointed out the significance of a two-digit number. Not that Charisse
understood much of what the woman said, or even cared, but the child’s age
always had prime significance in the house. When she was six, then everything
was six. The dark-haired woman, the one that was not her mother, would have to
bow six times when she brought Charisse her lunch, she would have to say ‘please’ six times before Charisse would
let her sit down, or eat, or use the bathroom. The next year it was seven
times. The only thing interesting about being ten (as far as Charisse could
tell) was that the dark-haired woman had to do so many more, ‘pleases’ before
Charisse let her do anything. Now she had to do it ten times it was very funny,
it went on so long Charisse would even giggle.
Some
years before Vanessa had begun to fret about Charisse’s laundry, working
herself up into a state of nervous exhaustion. The obsessed mother realised
that the dirt washed from the little girls clothes was part of the child
herself, like her excrement and urine – Vanessa had ritualized Charisse’s
laundry wash (like everything else), soaking the girl’s underwear and socks in
lukewarm water for several hours. The first time Vanessa drained the sink and
watched the dirt from her daughter’s clothes swirling like a mini whirlpool
before it disappeared down the drain, she collapsed on the floor. Suzanne found
her and listened for hours while the woman proposed ever more wild solutions.
Suzanne pointed out that it would be impossible to save the water, they would
never have enough containers, and they couldn’t freeze it anyway, they were
barely coping as it was. Vanessa was inconsolable, and when Suzanne tried
subtly to involve Charisse things did not improve. The child, with a strangely
amused smile, asked her mother what a drain was. What was it like inside? Where
did it go? What happened to the water? Vanessa, in her attempts to answer her
precocious offspring became distraught, realizing exactly what she had done.
Then Charisse, with an exaggerated air of innocence, suggested that maybe…
perhaps… possibly… if Suzanne ‘really’ loved her… then she would drink the
water. Suzanne sat exhausted in a chair, too shocked and tired to do anything
but stare at the child. Vanessa was ecstatic, she went to hug little Charisse,
but the child gave her mother a warning glance. The goddess was not in the mood
to be touched, and as usual she was obeyed. Suzanne resisted of course, arguing
with Vanessa till late into the night, but her friend’s conviction eventually
overwhelmed her, as it always did, driving out any last vestige if logic, or
rationale. The power of the more dominant woman’s argument broke Suzanne’s will
like fragile glass, convincing her of the twisted logic of this strange little
world they inhabited.
The
following day Suzanne began drinking Charisse’s laundry water, the child’s
socks and stained panties would be soaked in warm water for several hours, wrung
out, then the residue would be placed in a used orange juice container and
placed in the refrigerator. It became Suzanne’s only source of water, she drank
glasses of it, and used it to make her coffee. Eventually she even became used
to the taste, and even forgot ‘what’ that taste was. What she never got used to
however, was the amused way Charisse would watch her as she drank it.
Once you have started
down a path it’s often very difficult to turn back and Vanessa would use accumulative
logic against her friend. If Charisse’s laundry water could not be sent down
the waste pipe, then her shower water must be the same – it was simple,
undeniable logic. Suzanne protested that she simply could not drink that much,
but Vanessa was ready for her. Unsurprisingly it was Charisse’s idea, now she
was ten she seemed to be accelerating her own divinity, playing her mothers
dementia, and Suzanne’s weakness – Charisse would fill a bottle of water, then,
standing in a bowl, she would pour it over herself, rubbing the grime and sweat
away with her hands. Suzanne was allowed… no ‘made’ to watch, she realized, not
that it mattered, she was too far in and had long ago forgotten if there was
even an exit. She noticed the child paid particular attention to the area
between her legs, slowly pouring the water just under her navel, then she would
rub her vagina vigorously, the water trickled down her thin, young thighs, down
her calves, splashing on her little feet in the bowl. After this new ritual was
complete her mother was summoned into the bathroom, where the water was
carefully poured from the bowl back into the bottle. Vanessa handed her
daughter the container, which she then presented to Suzanne –
a kneeling Suzanne, on her knees before the goddess Charisse, she accepted it,
saying ‘thank you’ exactly ten times, then she left the room while the child
showered under running water and cleaned herself properly with soap.
After
Charisse’s eleventh birthday Suzanne found her duties now included licking the
toilet seat after Charisse had sat on it, and thanking the child eleven times
afterwards. She now slept on the floor at the foot of the child’s bed, just in
case the girl wanted anything in the night, and when she had no chores, Suzanne
would sit quietly beside Charisse as she watched tv, or listened to music,
waiting to serve the goddess-child when required.
It
was shortly after Charisse’s twelfth birthday that Vanessa began to notice
obvious signs of puberty in her daughter, the girl now had the beginnings of a
fine, blonde pubic triangle. Vanessa suggested she shaved, it was cleaner,
neater – Charisse agreed and the hair was collected and mixed in with Suzanne’s
food. Suzanne ate it without complaint.
Suzanne
was told that a new ceremony was being prepared, but Vanessa wouldn’t tell her
more. Charisse’s mother seemed agitated, nervous, distracted, while the child
had taken to looking at Suzanne with a renewed interest, often saying things
like, ‘oh mom, I can’t wait,’ and ‘shouldn’t we be
ready now’. Suzanne asked but received no answers. Then one day, out of the
blue, Vanessa woke Suzanne from her position at the foot of Charisse’s bed, and
ordered her to lie on it, face down, with her feet towards the pillow. Suzanne
hesitated, she wasn’t allowed on the girl’s bed, but Charisse was nowhere to be
seen. She did as she was told, and Vanessa bound her friend’s hands behind her
back – Suzanne asked why, but wasn’t answered. Suzanne was only wearing the
long t-shirt she slept in. Vanessa flipped her friend onto her back, and after
tying her ankles, pulled a pair of scissors from her pocket and began to cut
away the flimsy garment. Suzanne protested, but her friend was no longer
listening, more rope was tied to her ankles and fastened to Charisse’s bed,
then a loop was placed round her neck and tied off at the base of the bed.
Suzanne
was left naked, and bound to the twelve year-olds bed for several hours before
Vanessa returned, the naked woman was frightened now and she began to complain.
Vanessa grabbed a pair of Charisse’s socks and stuffed them in her friend’s
mouth, silencing her. She untied Suzanne’s ankles and re-tied them so they were
now spread apart. Then Vanessa produced some tubing and other equipment from a
bag. Suzanne panicked, but she was held fast, Vanessa inserted the medical
tubes into the tied woman’s vagina and anus, Suzanne cried into her gag more in
humiliation than the pain.
When
the procedure was finished Vanessa sat near her friends head, looking into her
frightened, tearful eyes.
“I have to have you here Suzy, you must
understand, it’s very important. I have to be ready. Have to be. Have to be.
Must be ready. Charisse is twelve now Suzy and things are happening. Changing…
yes, she’s changing. Earlier than we used to. Yes… they say it’s the hormones
in the milk and food. Anyway, I have to be ready. Have to be”. Vanessa looked
nervously around the room. “This will do,” she said, “perfect really. Charisse
is going to stay in her room while it happens. Yes, perfect. But it’s difficult
Suzy… very difficult. I don’t know when it might happen. Well, when she’s been
menstruating for a while then it will settle down, we’ll know when to expect
it… predictable, yes, it will be much more predictable”.
Suzanne
began to cry. She was to be Charisse’s human tampon, if she’d thought a little,
taken more notice of the changes in the girl, she might have seen it coming,
perhaps had time to escape – but it was all too late now. Vanessa pulled
out the makeshift gag and inserted a dental brace into Suzanne’s mouth, she
twisted the screw, opening it a little, then shoved the socks back in.
“This is perfect Suzy,” Vanessa said.
“I’ve connected everything up, don’t have to move you now, you can be ready for
it when it comes. I said to use a tampon and you would suck it, but she said
no. Well… she knows best Suzy… you know that. My angel always knows best. She
wants to sit over your mouth… just let it drain into you. Well, it’s best I
think, much cleaner for Charisse. Tampons are not good really, not for my
angel, she should get it out right away, not have it sitting in her for hours.
Yes, better this way. It’s how she wanted it”.
Charisse’s
first period started some time the next day. The girl came smiling into the
room, and stripped off from the waist down. She jumped bouncing onto the bed,
pulled the socks from Suzanne’s mouth and began to wind the screw on the dental
brace. Suzanne felt her mouth being forced open by the stainless-steel device,
her jaw began to ache and pretty soon her mouth was gaping open. Charisse
laughed, then straddled the helpless woman’s face, locating her menstruating
genitals over the gaping mouth under her. The twelve year-old sat down, so her
smooth vagina pressed into Suzanne’s mouth, filling it with warm flesh. Then
the child switched on the tv with the remote and settled down to watch.
It
took a little while, but eventually Suzanne felt something oozing from the
girl’s vagina, it dripped into her mouth, landing on her tongue. It was quite
unmistakable, that sharp, metallic taste of blood – Charisse was menstruating
into her mouth, Suzanne swallowed and concentrated on fighting the instinctive
urge to vomit. The twelve year-old hummed along to a song on MTV.
“Bet you think things will go back to how
they were don’t you sucking-suzy? That’s my new name for you by the way, mom
will call you it soon too, I’ll just tell her to,” Charisse pressed the remote
and changed channel. “But you can’t go back can you. I
mean… that would be stupid – you’re so much more useful like this. You’re still
gonna be allowed to drink my wash water, an laundry water, an lick the toilet
an stuff… so don’t worry okay! But I’ve thought of new ways for you to do cool
stuff… an it’s clever stuff, not like the stupid ideas you an mom come up with.
You are both pathetic really. I guess I never realized it before coz I was
little. I wish I could have her naked an tied up too, that would be cool huh?
Like both of you,” Charisse giggled. “But someone has to go to the store an do
all the other chores. But I’ll find someone else soon, I been talking to loads
of people on the Internet, mom don’t know of course, she’s too stupid… an it’s
not like you can tell her is it sucking-suzy?” the twelve year-old laughed and
went back to channel hopping the music stations, while her menstrual blood
trickled into Suzanne’s unwilling mouth.
Suzanne’s
world became smaller, something she hadn’t imagined could be possible. Charisse
was still the center of it, that would never change, but at least Suzanne had
once had the run of the house, and occasional trips to the store. Now
Charisse’s overwhelming presence in her life threatened to suffocate everything
that Suzanne had been, she was losing her identity as the twelve year-old
smothered her mind as effectively as she now smothered Suzanne’s physical body.
Everything had always come in small steps, more and more of Charisse had been
added to Suzanne’s world over the years, until there was no room for anything
else. Charisse’s needs. Charisse’s wants. Charisse’s requests. And now… Charisse’s
orders! Suzanne had no will to disobey, she would have done all the vile, foul
things the child demanded anyway, she was certain the girl knew this, so it
must have just pleased her to keep Suzanne tied like some animal.
Charisse was thirteen
now, and at the celebration Suzanne had been strapped naked over the kitchen
table with thirteen little candles stuck to her. Eleven on her belly in a
cluster, plus one on each nipple – Charisse had let little blobs of wax fall on
her skin before sticking each candle end into it, then the child had lit the
candles again. After making a secret wish, Charisse blew out the eleven candles
in one go as her mother clapped enthusiastically. But she left the other two.
Charisse settled down to watch them burn – Vanessa became a little disturbed by
it, mumbling to herself and rocking in her chair, so the teenager sent her out
of the room. The candles burned down, and down, and down… until the flame was
close enough to Suzanne’s flesh to burn it. Suzanne howled and sobbed into her
sock gag, but her teenage tormentor didn’t even stir, the girl sat transfixed,
head in hands, elbows on the table as he watched Suzanne’s nipples blister.
Pain screamed into Suzanne’s brain, she could see Charisse’s face, smell her
DKNY perfume, and in this cruel, lingering, party game, Charisse finally drove
out anything of Suzanne that had remained. After a while the tiny flames went
out in puff of smoke – Suzanne could faintly hear Charisse clapping and saying ‘cool’ before she fainted.
Olivia
arrived a few months later. She looked in her mid-twenties and seemed very
close to Charisse, though Suzanne knew they could never have met. The young
woman had a European accent, sort of Russian Suzanne guessed, though she
couldn’t be sure. Olivia ‘examined’ Suzanne with absolute delight, poking and
prodding the naked, tied woman and laughing a lot. Suzanne remained tied ‘all’
the time, and intricately hogtied for most of it – Charisse had experimented
with rope, laundry line, sports-socks, tape, string, food wrap, belts and
whatever she could find. She hated to see any of it removed so Vanessa had been
sent out to buy a flat trolley with small wheels at the hardware store, and
Suzanne had been placed on this. The teenager would pull the trolley around the
house by its handle, Vanessa had been ordered by the goddess to allow workmen
into the house (her protests were ignored) to install an electric winch at the
top of the stairs, it hauled the trolley, with Suzanne still attached to it, up
effortlessly.
Charisse kept Suzanne
close by her at all times, which was necessary given the woman’s new duties.
Suzanne had been taking the girls monthly period into her mouth for about a
year and a half now, and it hadn’t been long before Charisse had started to pee
in the woman’s mouth as well, out of necessity at first, she hated to get off
Suzanne until her monthly discharge had ended. Of course defecating into
Suzanne’s mouth had been a natural next step – then the teenager had stopped
using the bathroom all together, Suzanne was now her ‘porta-potty’ as the girl
laughingly liked to call her. So that’s why she was always kept close by, trust
up and strapped to her cart. Suzanne was never allowed to walk, or even crawl,
which hardly mattered, as the woman knew she couldn’t now anyway. Lack of use
and having her legs constantly tied in a bent position had rendered her lame –
not that Charisse cared, when she had witnessed Suzanne try to crawl once, and
fail, she had simply said ‘toilets don’t need to move themselves, don’t worry
porta-potty, I’ll make sure you’re mouth is always there when I need it’.
It
became immediately obvious that Olivia would be allowed to share Charisse’s ‘toilet’, the young woman had only been
in the house for twenty minutes when she trundled the trolley into an adjoining
room, pulled down her jeans, squatted on Suzanne’s mouth and then pissed into
it - a hot, foul tasting jet of piss, which Suzanne put down to the long plane
journey. That Olivia had needed to go so bad came as no surprise to Suzanne, as
she had lain there being examined by the laughing young woman it had been quite
obvious - Suzanne had become a very good toilet in fact, she cold see the tell
tale signs of a woman’s need to urinate, or defecate, so most times Charisse
needed to go Suzanne had her mouth open before the girl had even made a move to
pull down her panties.
Olivia
and Charisse were drinking soda and chatting while Suzanne lay on her trolley,
the strong taste of the young woman’s piss still lingering in her mouth. Vanessa
walked into the room and froze, she just stared at Olivia, her slack-jawed
expression was almost comical, but it didn’t last long, the two younger women
had obviously discussed everything long before this moment. Olivia stood up and
immediately grabbed Vanessa in a headlock, twisting the woman off her feet and
throwing her onto the floor, she forced one of Vanessa’s arms up her back.
“Charisse! Charisse! Charisse!” Vanessa
screamed, but her daughter just laughed, then grabbed her mother’s other arm,
twisting it painfully up to the other. The teenager then used duct-tape to bind
her mother.
The
two younger females stripped Vanessa together, Olivia had stuck a strip of tape
across the older woman’s mouth and the newcomer seemed to take great delight in
the confused and terrified look in the woman’s eyes. They tore her clothes off
until she was quite naked, Charisse had asked to remove her mother’s underwear
and Olivia had politely stepped aside. A grinning Charisse had tugged at her
mother’s panties, pulling them roughly off the struggling woman, then Olivia
had stepped forward again to bind Vanessa’s ankles with the tape. Over the next
hour or so both Olivia and Charisse explored Vanessa’s body, at one point the
teenager grabbed a candle from the coffee table and stuck it in her mother’s
anus, then just laughed as the woman started crying.
“Really mom, you’re such a baby,”
Charisse said staring down at her mother. “Now my friend Olivia and me, well,
we been discussing what to do with you. It’s a problem y’know? I mean, Olivia’s
going to do the chores an stuff so she gets to live in America, cool huh? An
she’s much nicer an more interesting that you. So you’re useless now. Even
porta-potty here is useful, we need her ‘all’ the time. But you? You’re just a
waste of space,” Charisse kicked her mother in the breast, and Vanessa curled
up into a ball. “We was gonna get rid of you at first,” the teen continued,
“but then we thought up a perfect use for you… didn’t we Livvy?” Charisse said
and the young woman nodded.
The basement was cool
and damp, and the air hummed with the sound of refrigerator motors. Charisse
and Olivia dragged the naked, bound Vanessa roughly down the basement steps and
along the floor to the very end of the room, where they flung her against the
wall. Charisse pulled the tape from her mother’s mouth.
“Charisse!” the woman wailed.
“SHUT UP BITCH” shouted Charisse,
slapping her mother hard around the face. “Right, here’s your new job, an it’s
probably gonna take you the rest of your life” the teen grinned. “You are gonna
eat EVERY bit of my saved poop, and drink ALL my saved pee – an it’s gonna take
you ALL day, EVERY day, and FOREVER to do it,” Charisse laughed while Vanessa
just stared at her daughter in disbelief. Charisse lent on one of the large
freezers, the notice pinned to it said: ‘Charisse Age Two’.
“I
took these out last night,” the teen said, pointing at a pile of plastic bags,
“so it will be defrosted by now… yummy! Little two year-old Charisse’s baby
poop, bet you’ll just love it huh mom?” Charisse slipped on a pair of rubber
surgical gloves, then she put on a surgical facemask, handing one to Olivia.
“You’ll need this Livvy, “ she said, “this is pretty
gross”. Then the teenager ripped open a plastic bag and brought it close to her
mother’s face. Vanessa backed against the wall as Charisse scooped out a
handful of the excrement with one hand, and pinched her mother’s nose with the
other, “open up mommy! Time to start your new job”. With that Charisse forced a
large handful of shit into her mothers mouth… then another… and another,
forcing the hysterical woman to chew and swallow it all.
Olivia
made a slight modification to a plastic bucket she’d bought at the hardware
store –
simply cutting slots half way down and attaching straps, she even fixed the
joins with a type of water pipe sealant. The bucket would then be filled with a
disgusting mixture of Charisse’s old waste, freshly defrosted from the
freezers, then the straps were attached to Vanessa’s head brace and pulled
tight, forcing the woman’s face into the shit and piss mix.
Vanessa was kept in
the basement, strapped naked to a long bench. The bucket hung over the end and
Olivia had put weights on the straps so Vanessa couldn’t keep her face out of
its foul contents for long, as she tired the laden straps would pull her face
back into the disgusting mush – she had to eat or drown. Charisse would go down
there several times a day to pour more of her baby shit and piss into the
bucked, or to add more weights to the strap. Often she would sit on her
mother’s naked back and read magazines, while she listened to the wretched
woman eating her way through the bucket’s contents.
Olivia had been gone
a year now, well, so Suzanne guessed, it was a little difficult to be accurate
about days that past, even months sometimes, but years were easier – for one
thing she was never allowed to forget how old Charisse was, and the birthday
candle game had turned into something of a tradition. Charisse had turned eighteen
a month or so ago and Suzanne’s nipples had more or less healed. Suzanne
thought of very little anymore, except the constant watch she kept on her
mistress, waiting for the telltale signs that let her know she was going to be ‘used’ again. Suzanne went everywhere
with the young woman, Charisse pulled the trolley with its odd load all over
the house with her, and even into the secluded backyard, which was nice.
Suzanne enjoyed being outside.
She was never taken
down into the basement though, not that Charisse spent much time down there
anymore, just a few trips a day to refill the bucket. Sometimes Charisse would
talk to her porta-potty, though it was more like the way you would talk to a
dog or a cat, just mulling things over in your mind, never expecting an answer – and Suzanne would never dream of answering. Charisse said
that Vanessa was a true ‘shit-eating-machine’, which Suzanne supposed
must be right as she had been at it non-stop for five years now. Charisse said
her mother had been getting through about three of her daughter’s stored bowel
movements a day, so supplies had been running low for some time. Charisse also
told Suzanne that to conserve stocks she had been collecting Vanessa’s own
waste and feeding it back to her, mixing it in with the newly defrosted
excrement - she said she was ‘doing her bit for recycling’ and laughed. Suzanne
knew her own excreta and urine was being given to Vanessa as well, Charisse
said as much as she changed the bags that collected her porta-potty’s waste. It
was added to the mix apparently – which made sense to Suzanne, as it did
contain Charisse’s latest offerings.
Suzanne
also knew the teenager tortured her mother, she could hear screams coming from
the basement sometimes. Charisse even admitted as much on more than one
occasion, saying how she was so glad the house was very isolated, and how she
would hate to have to gag her mother and not enjoy the sounds the woman made.
And Charisse had started her own odd collection some time ago, little jars on a
shelf in her bedroom held a strange assortment of body parts. Suzanne
recognized nipples in one jar, and what looked very much vagina lips, but other
stuff was more difficult. Charisse tapped a jar containing some odd looking
bits once, that were definitely from ‘inside’ the woman in the basement. The
teenager had laughed, and said: ‘well it’s not like she needs it, I’m the ONLY
child she’ll EVER have’.
THE END.
Ó Sarah J.
2004
The rest of my stories are at:
/files/Authors/Young_Lesbian_Femdom
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