======== Newsgroups: alt.sex.fetish.watersports Subject: Revised Story: Early Birds part 2 From: an58617@anon.penet.fi (Tinker.) Date: Fri, 28 Jul 1995 12:09:15 UTC /* Please throw away any previous version of this story */ Early Birds part 2 By Tinker, April 1995 "Well, you must be two happy parents. I congratulate you both with the health of Sylvia. She is as healthy as any 8-year old girl could be." The doctor smiled and looked over her desk to the three people sitting in front of her. They had come to her for a routine check-up and everything had turned out fine. Sylvia was a cheerful, healthy, bright young child, doing well at school and a credit to the community. With the results of the medical tests she had gone through last week, there would be nothing in the near future that could possibly cause any concern. The woman looked at her husband and smiled. "You see? There's nothing wrong with our Sylvia. Just like I thought." Her husband frowned. "Yes, but... you know. I still think it is not normal." The doctor raised an eyebrow and looked at the woman. "Is there maybe something in particular that worries you? Something that you did not tell me before we began the tests?" The woman sighed and stroked Sylvia's hair. The little child was not paying any attention to the boring discussion around her and was busy leafing through an old issue of Cosmopolitan. "Well doctor, yes there is something. We don't understand it, especially since Sylvia seems so healthy. But once in a while, once or twice a month or so, I find that she has wet the bed when I change it, and sometimes I think she has wet herself during the day as well." Sylvia suddenly seemed very interested in a certain article in her magazine and held her breath. The doctor played with a pencil. Momentarily, the man coughed. "Can it be that Sylvia has a weak or nervous bladder or something medical like that? You often hear these things." The doctor nodded. "Yes, that would be the first thing to think of. But I wonder why it only happens once in a while. Such cases are normally quite persistent, and you would notice it almost every night. Did you try to let her use the toilet before going to bed?" "Yes we have. We tried everything we could, giving her nothing to drink after six o'clock, everything. It goes alright for weeks, and then suddenly I find those wet sheets again." The doctor nodded. "I see. A strange question: did you actually tell her why you wouldn't let her drink water after six, or punish her for what happened, or mention it at all to her?" The woman shook her head. "No, not really. I just assumed it were accidents that she did not want to talk about, and they happened so rarely. We feel anything like that would be a bit drastic for a sensitive child. But it won't stop. Sometimes I even think it's getting worse." The doctor looked at the ceiling for a moment and then looked at Sylvia, still reading, or pretending to read. "There is one possibility that may seem strange to you, but that could explain everything. I've read about it before and it is nothing to worry about, although it is not exactly common either. You see, most children start to develop the usual external signs of adolescence in their early teens. Boys get hair and their voices break, girls develop breasts and start their monthly cycle. Rest assured, Sylvia is at least four years away from this. But even if she is not aware of it herself yet, she can very well have desires. Not desires in the usual sexual sense, because she is still too young for this; but what sometimes happens is that such a latent desire slumbers inside children already at a very early age. It can be as early as four years! However, in most children it stays latent until they reach puberty, since they have to discover what it is that they want. What I have read indicates that some children accidentally discover a trick that gives them almost what they want. They don't know at all what is actually happening, but they know for sure that it satisfies them." The mother looked at the doctor in disbelief. "You mean that she might be doing it on purpose, to experience some kind of errr... erotical pleasure?" The doctor nodded. "Exactly. It appears that some cases of bedwetting are purely voluntarily, just for erotical satisfaction, although the children of course don't see it this way at all. For them, it is just a naughty kind of fun, very innocent." She now looked at Sylvia. "Tell us, Sylvia, is it true that you sometimes wake up and find that you have wet the bed?" Sylvia did not look up and started to blush. Her legs slowly waved back and forth under her chair, and she put her thumb in her mouth. "You don't have to be afraid to tell us. We won't bite you." Her mother put an arm around her and gave Sylvia a hug. "Hey honey. Don't be ashamed. There's nothing to worry about. We just want to know if you wet the bed once in a while." Sylvia slowly shook her head. "But honey, I have found wet sheets in your bed. You must have been wetting the bed, and I don't think you would forget such a thing, won't you?" Sylvia shook her head again. "So you know you did wet the bed?" Sylvia shrugged. Her mother took her thumb out of her mouth and made her look at her face. "Now Sylvia. Please tell me. Did you wet the bed?" Sylvia still said nothing and shrugged again, avoiding her mother's eyes. The doctor now stood up and walked over to Sylvia's chair. She squatted next to her and took her hand. It was warm and a bit moist. Sylvia felt she was in trouble. "Sylvia, we are not going to punish you for wetting the bed. Not at all. We just want to know. Did you know that when you have wet the bed, your mother needs to clean it up?" Sylvia pushed her lips out and shook her head. The doctor winked at her mother. "She really does clean it up for you. But she does not hate it. She wants you to have a dry bed. And she wants you to have fun. Do you like to have fun?" The girl nodded. "Do you sometimes have fun when you wake up and you feel you need to go to the bathroom?" Sylvia said nothing, but her eyes told the experienced doctor enough. Her mother followed the discussion with rising interest. This doctor knew how to handle children. The doctor now addressed the parents again. "I know enough now. She quite simply just likes it. Nothing to worry about, when she grows a bit older, she'll understand that it causes trouble for you and she'll stop wetting the bed." The father still said nothing, looking like he accepted his fate of having a slightly more explorative daughter than his neighbour. But the woman wasn't convinced yet. "The bed, yes, well, I can understand that a bit, but she started coming home in wet panties last summer. I've never told you, Sylvia, but you shouldn't sit down on our couch with wet panties on." Sylvia now whispered: "I'm sorry mum. I had forgotten that I had been playing." The doctor winked again: "You see? Just having fun. No medical problem. Rest assured, this will go away by itself. It just takes time to grow up and find something else." Her mother now took Sylvia on her lap and gave her a kiss. "Naughty child. You made us think you were ill. But will you promise me not to wet the bed again? Just to save me the extra work of changing it? Please?" Sylvia hesitated for a moment and then whispered: "But I like it so much, mum." "I know you do, honey, but it is a lot of work." "I can do it on Monday morning, when you have to change the bed anyway." Sylvia's voice now took a different tone. All three adults started to laugh. The doctor indicated to the mother that she shouldn't agree. "So that I can take your mattress outdoors every week? No Sylvia, just do not wet the bed any more. Promise?" She gave in. "Alright, I promise." Her mother gave her a second kiss. "And I also promise I won't sit down on the couch after I have been playing," Sylvia volunteered. Her mother frowned. "Don't you mean: I won't be playing naughty games any more?" Sylvia shook her head emphatically. "No, I mean I won't sit on the couch any more. If I don't sit down on the couch, you don't have to clean up anything, do you?" With a bright smile on her face, Sylvia looked to the people around her and she was sure that she had found the solution to everybody's problems. The doctor restrained a chuckle, not without some difficulty. The father closed his eyes and regretted the fact that he had boasted his daughter's cleverness so often. Only the mother tried to extract some more information out of the situation. Curious, she asked gently: "Sylvia, when you play, how do you do it? What do you like about it?" Her daughter now showed no single sign of hesitation. "I just like it. It feels very nice and warm and exciting. And I don't have to do anything special, it just happens by itself. I just have to stand on the grass and wait." "You stand on the grass? With your panties on?" Sylvia nodded. "Yes. It's very simple. Look." She jumped off her mother's lap and stood in between the row of chairs and the doctor's desk. "Just like this. You see? I can easily play and nobody will see it because of my dress." Sylvia proudly looked around the room. Her father now rested his head on his right hand and tried to figure out what they had done wrong. Letting her watch too much Oprah Winfrey? No. Couldn't be. She would be playing divorce by now. The doctor smiled to the parents: "I am afraid I cannot do much more. The rest will solve itself in time. Your daughter is perfectly healthy and with a mind like hers, I wouldn't be afraid of her future. Try to be gentle to her. Punishment won't solve a thing. She would defy you, anyway." They shook hands and said goodbye. While they walked through the long hospital corridors, Sylvia pranced in front of them, and the couple walked arm in arm. Such a small wonder of a child. How beautiful. When they were almost at the exit, the mother suddenly stopped and went into a door. Her husband waited, knowing that he had not to go for the next hour or so and they were close to home anyway. Sylvia looked over her shoulder and when she noticed that her mother went into a ladies room, she skipped back and followed her in. To the father's surprise, his wife almost immediately came out again, pushing Sylvia out in front of her. "I've changed my mind. I don't need to go." The man shrugged and continued his way. But Sylvia protested. "Hey, but I need to go! I already had to go when we were at the doctor's. Hey, mum!" Her mother smiled. "Tsk tsk. What a change. Until now, you always had to be dragged into a bathroom." Sylvia sulked and followed her parents to the exit. But soon she had forgotten the whole thing and started to dance around them in the bright sunlight. On their way to the parking lot, the couple discreetly whispered something Sylvia didn't catch. She had been chasing a butterfly. Turning round, she found her parents on a bench in the park-like surroundings of the hospital, close to the parking lots. Sylvia ran back to them. "I thought we were going home." "Yes honey, we will go home. But we thought, well, after all these boring tests and discussions, maybe you would want to enjoy yourself a bit. To have some fun. To play your own little game." Sylvia looked puzzled. "Which little game, mum?" Her mother smiled. "The little game you need to wear a dress for, honey." Sylvia blinked. "You mean... I can play? Now? Oh, yes! Thanks mum!" She rushed to her parents and jumped on her mother's lap, giving her a hug, and then she went over to her father. "Thanks dad. I promise I won't make your car wet." He winked: "But remember: only this way. Not in the bed." "I promise, dad. Oh, this's gonna be fun! I'll start playing right away!" She climbed off his lap and took two steps back. A slight blush crept over her face. After all, this would be the first time she would do it with somebody knowing it. But nothing could go wrong. She just stood on the grass like she was going to chant her parents a rhyme she had learned at school. Her mother looked her all over. Sylvia was wearing the beautiful dress they had bought her for her eighth birthday, a month ago, and looked as pretty as your eight-year old daughter can look. She sighed. Was it a good thing to allow her to play like this? Suddenly she felt the arm of her husband tightly around her shoulder, and his kiss on her right cheek. At least, Jack thought it was a good thing. Sylvia now changed pose a bit. She now was not merely standing, but waiting for something. Something very pleasurable. Her eyes twinkled from delight, and a wonderful smile spread on her face. "It really is very simple. I just stand like this, and then I start to play." Her mother silently whispered: "I know, I know." Jack kissed her again. Sylvia now looked down. "I think I'll start to play now. Just wait a little bit more. It has always worked this way." Her mother moaned softly. Suddenly, Sylvia gasped and giggled: "I have played already! Just a little bit!" She walked a few feet. "I can feel my panties now. It's much nicer this way!" Then she turned back to her parents and prepared herself for the real fun. With her feet a bit apart, she told: "Don't worry mum, my shoes won't get wet." With an almost strangled voice, her mother answered: "I know, hell I do." Jack said nothing. Smiling, Sylvia now took a deep breath and started to play. In a moment, she was weeing in her panties like never before. While she looked down to her feet, she almost yelled: "Mum, I'm playing! I'm playing! I really am! It works! Can you see it?" Of course they could see it. From under Sylvia's beautiful dress, a little stream fell down onto the grass, and her mother started to pant while Jack tried to hold her. But it was no use. While Sylvia was playing on the grass, and experienced the summit of pleasure possible for her age, Amy suddenly rose to her feet. Jack tried to stop her, but it was no use. Amy walked around her daughter, who was still delightfully wetting her panties under her little dress, and finally ended up standing next to her. Jack knew what she was up to and could only hope for the best. Sylvia looked up to her mother, still playing. Her mother smiled. "Are you having fun now?" Sylvia nodded emphatically, which caused her stream to sweep a bit back and forth. "Yes mum. I like to play. It is so wonderful. I can feel everything getting warm under my dress." Amy took a breath. "Do you mind me having fun as well?" she added. Despite her excited state, Sylvia now really was surprised. "Do you want to play with me? Oh, yes! That would be great!" Still playing, she turned left to face her mother. With a last look at her daughter's pose, Amy closed her eyes and re-lived old memories. Memories older than Sylvia. She pressed her thighs together and forgot about the new skirt she wore. It wouldn't matter. Quickly she built up the necessary anticipation, and just as her daughter told that she should part her feet before she started to play, a hot little spurt entered her panties. And another one. She gasped. "Are you playing, mum?" the bright voice of Sylvia called from somewhere out of the distance. "I think you are! I think you are playing like me!" Yes she was playing. Although she tried to muffle it, nine years of longing were breaking cover. She was remembering. Her tummy became a burning bush of butterflies. Again and again, the hot waves of pleasure swept her body, and Amy was loosing herself. "I can see it mum! It's coming down your left leg! Mind your shoes!" Finally, Amy could move her feet a bit apart and then started to catch up with nine long years. Sylvia, still playing herself as well, looked with big eyes to the stream that appeared from under her mother's skirt and noisily fell down on the soaked grass between her parted feet. Now *this* was playing! Quickly Sylvia tried to produce the same kind of stream as her mother, but for some things you simply need to grow up. She spread her legs a bit more and just went on playing her own little game. Under her dress, her panties felt great. Jack appeared and embraced Amy. Sylvia delightfully looked up to see her parents both being happy. What a joy to be member of such a nice family. When they walked to their car, Sylvia prancing in front and Amy and Jack a few yards behind, still with their arms around their shoulders, Jack grinned. "Hey Amy. Do you think this is hereditary? They should have warned us!" - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- To find out more about the anon service, send mail to help@anon.penet.fi. If you reply to this message, your message WILL be *automatically* anonymized and you are allocated an anon id. Read the help file to prevent this. Please report any problems, inappropriate use etc. to admin@anon.penet.fi.