This post follows on from 2 earlier posts, Thanksgiving 2010, and Breaking New Ground, which you might like to read first, for the sake of continuity.
Uncle Robert suggested that we take a coffee break, so Granddad and Mom sat at the breakfast table, while I prepared the cups, and Uncle Robert brewed a nice fresh pot of coffee for us all. Mom was telling Granddad about some of the stress she’d had while growing up, and that she’d come to terms with her feelings over the last few years, while Granddad explained that he’d also had to struggle to control the feelings that he’d had trying to bring a beautiful young girl on his own. It appeared that his coping strategy was to steer as far away from intimate conversation as possible, and to try and suppress Mom’s natural sexuality.
We’d just brought over the coffee, and I couldn’t help asking Granddad how he ever thought he could stop a young adolescent girl’s sex drive, it was like screwing a lid on a boiling kettle. You could hold it down for a while, but eventually it would explode, or at least bend the kettle all out of shape.
The discussions continued into the afternoon, but we called a break while the guys prepared lunch, and we girls went to get dressed. Once in our room, Mom and I leapt into each others arms, both of us talking about how wonderfully this had all turned out, far beyond our wildest expectations. We’d agreed the week before that because we were going to bring up the subject of my virginity, which was about as intimate a subject as you can get, we would try and draw out Granddad to reveal some of his feelings about the way he’d brought up Mom. Initially raising the main topic wasn’t what we were concerned about, because if it all went wrong, and Granddad kicked up a fuss, we had decided that we were both strong enough to stand up to him about it. We expected to talk him into listening to us, and were sure we could convince him to see our point of view. I was confident that I’d done enough research, and knew my reasoning well enough, to be able present such a delicate subject to someone like my Granddad, and I’d always been able to get away with a lot more than my Mom ever could with him. I’d also coached Mom on how far to go, and when to allow me to drive the topic of conversation if it became difficult. Our goal had been to find out if Granddad had any sexual motive behind the methods he chose to use when dealing with the emotional turmoil of a young girl, which was a point raised by quite a few of the people who knew about Mom’s childhood. Now we knew that Granddad had been attracted to his daughter, but had tried his best to control his feelings, Mom was overjoyed that her Dad had loved her so much, and appreciated that everything he’d done had been to protect her as she grew up in a male dominated household.
We took a quick shower together, and then helped each other to dress in our nicest clothes, so that we could give Granddad and Uncle Robert the reward of having two lovely ladies to feast their eyes on. Hopefully, now without the added worry of how they should, or shouldn’t react to us.
While we enjoyed lunch, there was a much freer atmosphere to our conversation, and we were able to discuss quite a few things that had happened previously which had seemed to have had a slightly sexual side to them, without the tension that has always been there before. In fact some of them had turned out to be perfectly innocent, and rather comical in retrospect, so much that all of us ended up laughing about them. Mom even mentioned that she’d never, ever thought she’d be able to laugh like this, with her Dad and Robert, about something like the time she’d put her panties back to front because she was rushing to get ready for school, then spent all day with the gusset splitting her butt in half. It wasn’t all that funny really, but the freedom to talk about anything just exaggerated every little comment, till tears of laughter rolled down our cheeks, Granddad and Uncle Robert included.
One of the interesting things that happened was when somehow the conversation got steered round to early sexual activity, and Mom took the opportunity to bring up something that had played on her mind since she was 12 years old, and had shaped some of her early erotic fantasies, here’s the story.
“It was summer break, with no school, Dad at work most of the day, and my brother just started a job at the local store, so I had a lot of free time to myself. Sometimes Dad would arrange with a neighbor for me to go over to her house, but mostly I enjoyed the freedom of my own company, and especially no men in the house. This meant I could walk round in just my special undies without getting told off, and I could explore every room in the house, particularly my Dad’s room which had a couple of locked drawers and a locked closet to stimulate a young imagination.
It was my brother’s room that set my life on a completely new track though, and the sign on his door “No Girls Allowed” only made it more enticing. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular, just being the normal inquisitive schoolgirl, (alright then, I was being nosey), hoping I might find something that was “interesting”. Well I certainly did that. Inside a notebook beside Robert’s bed, I thought I’d found his diary, a goldmine for a young girl, and thoughts raced through my mind about finding out all my brother’s little secrets, but it was just a plain notebook mostly about cars. When I went to put it back something dropped on his bed which had me frozen to the spot for ages, just looking at it. It turned out to be a set of 6 cartoons on what seemed to be postcards, and for now I was just fascinated by the drawings laid out in front of me, spread over the covers so I could see every one of them.
The story line was the bondage and abuse of two teenage schoolgirls, and particularly the use of a cucumber. The graphic style was with all of the attributes exaggerated, both for the girl’s tits and pussies, and also for the two boys dominating them with massive pricks and balls. I must have spent a couple of hours studying every line and shadow of those drawings, to some extent in amazed disbelief that people were that size in real life, but also at what they were doing. The ropes, clips, and toys being used, as well as how such massive cocks could ever fit inside of a girl’s pussy, then the vicious punishments they were being given, every detail was firmly seared into my brain, and soon my fingers were slipped inside my panties to stroke my now throbbing pussy. Finally I put the cards back where they came from, meticulously arranging everything as it had been left so that Robert would never know I’d been in his room.
That night I went to sleep with a whole new set of images whirling round my brain, touching myself in places and ways I’d never even thought of. Looking back I can see the changes gradually occurring over the following few months as the characters took on new looks, somehow very similar to my own. I went back into my brother’s room for another look at the drawings, my first ever contact with pornography, but all I found were pictures of cars. I never found the postcards again, but that one afternoon was all I needed to commit them to memory, and I can now see them wherever, and whenever I want. That’s one of the great things about a fantasy, it’s in your mind where no-one can look, totally private for just yourself to enjoy, if you so choose.
I would have loved to ask you where they were Robert, so I could take another look at the originals, or at least find out where they had come from, but I never could. The main problem was that I had discovered them while snooping in your room, which I wasn’t allowed to go into, so I could never explain how I even knew you had them without getting myself into some serious trouble. So I just kept quiet about it, but almost every night I would fondle my developing titties, and rub my pussy as I lay in bed, working up my sexual excitement to greater heights.”
“Why you little minx,” Uncle Robert said to Mom, “I never realised you were snooping in my room when I was out. I shudder to think what else you found, can a guy have no privacy from sneaky little schoolgirls.” However he was laughing when he was telling her off, then he leaned over and gave her a shove, she shoved him back, and they were calling each other names, like a couple of school kids. It ended in a tickling match, which Mom won because she knows just the right spot to get Uncle Robert, at the back of his ribs.
Robert admitted that they were his favorite set of pictures, which he had stolen from Granddad’s collection, then returned them a couple of months later before his Dad ever found out. Grandad told us all that he had built up his collection from his teenage years, when pornography was usually passed around at work, and he’d been lucky enough to be friends with a guy who could get loads of it from somewhere, though he never found out where the original source was. Mom asked what had happened to it all, because she’d always been dying to ask, but had never plucked up the courage. Granddad said he’d lost the whole lot when the house they used to live in caught fire, and burned to the ground, and it had taken him years to be able to get some more, but he could never find anything as good as some of the items he’d collected.
When Grandad asked Mom how her sex life is getting on now, I was amazed to hear her explain that she masturbated quite a lot, and downloaded porn from the internet when she needed it. Grandad smiled, nodding his head as he said how glad he is that Mom’s happy, and she squeezed his hand in gratitude for the compliment. Uncle Robert turned to ask the same thing of me, and I enthusiastically told everyone about the new dildo that Mom had bought for my birthday, a few months ago, including how we tried it out in the evening, much to everyone’s delight. Mom praised my open honesty, and I felt my pussy getting wet as I told Uncle Robert about sitting on my other dildo in my bedroom, the one I’ve attached to a cushion. Both my Grandad and Uncle Robert have big bulges in their pants, which I notice they are stroking openly, as they reminisce about how Mom always used to play with herself when she was a young girl. When Grandad asks my Mom if he can take a look how much she’s grown over the years, she happily begin to undress, slowly unbuttoning her blouse, then leaving it fully open to display her bra covered breasts while she removes her short skirt. As Mom strips down for the family, Uncle Robert orderd me to take off my clothes as well, so that they can compare the naked bodies of their two favorite ladies. When we are both undressed to our undies, we are stood side by side, still half naked in front of my Grandad and Uncle, while my Mom was half naked in front of her Dad and brother. Strangely enough, everything was fine, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. While all my anxieties are still there about being in a position that usualy ends in my punishment, my most prominent feeling is one of rising sexual passion, and I can feel my pussy juice flooding into my lace panties. On command we both step forward, and Grandad begins to feel his daughter’s breasts through her bra, caressing them gently, while Uncle Robert was doing the same thing to his niece, and both of them were showering us with compliments about how beautiful and sexy we are. Uncle Robert suggests we compare our breasts, and both bras are removed so that our naked tit flesh can be examined thoroughly, Mom panting just as hard as I am when her nipples are pulled gently. The men want to check our butts, and so we are now turned by our hips to face away from them, our panties pulled down, and the bottom cheeks meticulously fondled. Next we are bent over so that the central groove parts widely to expose two little rosebuds which are gently lubricated, then penetrated by a strong male finger. Mom reaches over to hold my hand, looking at me with lust in her eyes to match my own raging passions, then we moan in unison as our assholes stretch to take a finger full depth.
After a short while we are stood facing the men again, still with our panties below our butts, the front edge just against the line of our pubic mound, but not for long as Grandad and Uncle Robert carefully lower each waistband to slowly expose a pair of lightly furred pussies, and turning the panties inside out so that they reveal gussets covered in thick girl juice.
“Still a wet little slut, my darling,” Grandad says to Mom with a smile, and turning to me he continues, “Your Mom always had wet panties, sweetheart, it was one of the things I loved about her. Even when she was freshly changed into clean underwear, you only had to catch her nipples, and straight away she would flood her panties.”
Mom told me later that knowing her Dad approved of her wet pussy was a wonderful thing to hear, and made her tingle deep inside her tummy. Uncle Robert then pointed out to Grandad that his granddaughter also had a dripping wet cunny, just like her Mom, and added how nice it was that both women were such hot little foxes. Pulling down our panties altogether, Garndad and Uncle Robert now had us totally naked, and we were made to pose for them in the most erotic ways, spreading our thighs wide apart, offering up our titties for them to suck our erect nipples, and being passed from one to the other for inspection. While we had both been completely nude like this in their presence before, sometimes for inspection, sometimes for punishment, there had never this sort of sexual contact. Finally we were told to kneel before them, then asked if we would like to relieve the erections we had caused, to which we both said yes, finally being allowed to unzip their pants, pull them right down, and gaze upon two large throbbing pricks just waiting to be caressed. my eyes were wide open as I studied Uncle Robert’s cock, and I reached out to wrap my tiny hand round it, stroking it slowly, while Mom reached out to play with her Dad’s long hard prick.
Mom admitted later that she had wondered what this would be like for so long, ever since those rare occasions when she saw him in the bathroom, and now she was quite free to enjoy giving him the pleasure he deserved for taking care of her for so many years. After stroking him for a while, she leaned forward, watching him smile at her as her mouth slid over the knob of his manly shaft, playing her tongue across it before sliding its length deep into her mouth. Glancing sideways, she saw me watching her suck her Dad while I played with her brother, then I too slipped my mouth over Uncle Robert’s cock, forcing my lips wide enough apart to take him inside as my Mom was doing. It felt wonderful to be together as a family, sharing sex and love with each other without any regrets or recriminations, knowing that we had so much enjoyment that we could give to these two wonderful men. After twenty minutes of oral attention I could see both of them begin to lift their hips, and feel Uncle Robert’s prick pulsing in my mouth, so I kept my tongue working steadily along his shaft, holding back at times to make him last. When Grandad began to thrust into Mom’s mouth, I increased my pressure, bringing Uncle Robert up to his climax just a few seconds behind Grandad, feeling the first jets of thick spunk flood in my mouth, holding it as I heard Mom swallow. Both my Grandad and Uncle Robert then pushed our heads backward, off their pulsing cocks as the rest of their climax was sprayed across both of our faces in sticky white jets. We knelt there covered in cum, strands dripping from our chin onto our bare titties as Uncle Robert told me to open my mouth. Showing him that I still held his juice inside me, he told me to share it with his sister, so I leaned over to give her a sticky kiss, passing my Uncle’s spunk into my own Mom’s mouth, then taking it back as she pushed her Dad’s cum into her own daughter’s mouth. When we’d swapped juices a few times, Grandad had us both open our mouths while he and his son looked at the strands of sperm across our tongues, and the pools of thick fluid behind our teeth, finally ordering his two girls to swallow it all down into our tummies. Mom told us later that this is the ultimate acceptance of our sexual drives, that we are loved enough to share this most intimate, and forbidden of erotic acts with our closest family. As her Dad reached out to her bare pussy, slipping his fingers into her slit, his nail scraping the tip of her erect clitoris, she explode in orgasm, staying on her knees in front of him while spasms of violent pleasure ripple through her whole body.
We were rather messy now, and were both escorted to the bathroom, where the tub was filled with hot water, then fragranced with bath lotion. We were told to step into the tub, then Mom was bathed by Granddad, and I was bathed by Uncle Robert. This was not the usual bath time ritual we enjoyed as young girls, through our teens, and even as adults in recent years, where the two men would both watch as we cleaned ourselves at their direction. With our new relationship, it was male hands that held the soapy washcloths as they rubbed across our naked bodies, delved into damp crevices, then squeezed the pliant mounds on our heaving chests as we were instructed to pull back our shoulders, even severely twisting the throbbing, erect nipples as Mom and I panted our sexual arousal. Rinsing our soapy bodies under the shower head, we were ordered out of the tub to stand before them, and then wrapped in warm fluffy towels to be lovingly caressed dry. I’d always enjoyed having my Granddad watch me dry myself, frequently repositioning the towel so that my body was exposed as often as possible, but now it was Uncle Robert that dried me himself. At first I was just held up against him while he scrunched my hair, then patted my back with the towel, moving lower to pat my bottom for a time before he started to rub my cheeks, then grip them quite strongly. As he moved his hands lower, he pulled my ass apart, spreading the groove wide until my pussy slit was parting as well. Turning me round, he gently rubbed the front of my shoulders, working down towards my titties, rubbing them just as hard as he’d rubbed my bottom, then gripping my throbbing nipples with the rough towelling, pulling and twisting. Since I love playing with my breasts quite hard, Uncle Robert soon had me wriggling my butt against him, and I could feel his hard prick sticking into me.
When I looked over at Mom, she was being just as thoroughly towelled by Granddad, but she’d put her foot up on the side of the tub, spreading her thighs apart so her Dad could rub vigorously across the smooth pussy lips, then he worked the towel into her slit, pulling it backwards and forwards on her no doubt erect clit.
All too soon the caresses came to an end; we were each given a kiss, the ordered to stand side by side with our legs against the bath edge behind us. Mom and I had often stood like this, waiting Granddad’s decision of some infraction we had committed against the house rules, and this time we were both reprimanded for not being smooth shaven. It was Granddad’s viewpoint that men should be in control of whether women are allowed pubic hair, because this showed proper respect towards a man’s position as head of the house. We knew the rules, of course, and Granddad would often insist on an inspection when we visited, but not every time, so we never knew if we would be found out for not being properly shaved. Mom and I treated this as a game, though we would never have let Granddad know, although we might be able to confess to him later on. Most of the time, while we are at home, both of us keep our pussies shaved perfectly smooth every day because we prefer it that way; it’s so much nicer to touch. However, when we know we are going to visit, or Granddad is coming to our house, we will stop shaving for a couple of weeks. We try to do this only on alternate visits, so that sometimes we are obedient young ladies, and are praised, while other times we are told that we are naughty, disrespectful girls that need putting in our place.
This time we not only weren’t suitably smooth, but we had both trimmed our short bush into a nice neat heart shape, so Granddad pointed out that this wasn’t merely an oversight, it was an intentional defiance of the rules, so merited a serious punishment. Taken by the elbow, we were marched into the lounge, and then side by side were bent over the back of the sofa for a paddle to our bare bottoms. Granddad and Uncle Robert took it in turns to deliver six spanks, one of them spanking Mom, while the other spanked me, then they changed places and stroked our reddening bottoms to check how hot they were getting. Having decided that we needed some more discipline, another six spanks were duly delivered to each of us, and then repeated until we’d both received 24 swats, and our bottoms had warmed up nicely.
The next part of this little ritual is that we usually have to sit on the dining table, with our feet up on two widely spaced chairs, and shave our pussy completely bald. Today was to be different though, so after we had climbed up, we were pushed back till we were laid on dining table, then Granddad said we were going to be shaved by the men, as this was something special they had both always wanted to do. I enjoy shaving myself, and it’s even better when Mom does it for me, then I shave her pussy afterward, but being laid out like this, completely naked, legs widely spread, my Mom beside me, had my cunny tingling like mad. I’d never been shaved by a man before, but now it was going to be done by my lovely Uncle Robert, so he’d get to see all my most secret places in great detail, spread open so that nothing was hidden, and he’d get to touch them as well. Added to this wonderfully erotic experience was that my Mom was laid right next to me, and she was going to undergo exactly the same thing, with her own Dad feeling her pussy as he stripped it totally bare. When we had both been thoroughly soaped on our neat little bushes, they were expertly shaved, and it was even better than I’d expected, as Uncle Robert pulled my pubic mound in different directions to tighten the skin so every trace of hair could be removed. When I’d been wiped with a warm cloth to remove the last remnant of soap, I was waiting to be allowed to stand, but Uncle Robert was now stroking his fingers across my petals, and he turned to ask his dad if might be a good idea to remove the bristles from our girl cleft as well. Granddad came over and ran his hand across my exposed flesh to check, then stretched one petal right out to tighten the skin so her could better feel the short hairs starting to grow back. Granddad agreed that it needed doing, but suggested that Uncle Robert attend to his sister, while he himself looked after his lovely little granddaughter. I love it when he calls me his little girl, and with his fingers still stroking between my legs I was slowly building up to orgasm, if he kept his up. He turned to look at my face, with his finger now stroking right across my clit, and I couldn’t stop my hips from thrusting against them. Telling me to behave, stopped playing with me, soaped me up again, and this time I was shaved all over, with Granddad pulling and stretching my lips and slit in every direction, so that no hairs would left. After wiping me with a warm cloth again till I was nice and clean, he poured some liquid into his hand, then oiled every little bit of my baby smooth girl cleft. Mom was also expertly attended to by her brother, leaving her just as smooth as her daughter, soft, and freshly oiled.
We were still not allowed to get up, and I was beginning to wonder why, when Granddad announced that there was one more thing needed to complete our discipline, and since we had transgressed by not paying proper attention to our private parts, he would use the strap to punish our pussy mound, and between our legs. It was years since I’d had such a severe beating, Mom as well I thought, but the shaving had so excited me that I was quite willing to try and endure it. Granddad asked me if I was prepared to accept his discipline, which he always did with the more serious punishments, and I agreed that I would submit myself to his authority. Turning to Mom, he asked her the same thing, and she said that as her father he knew what was best for her, so she would willingly obey him.
These were the standard responses that we always used, and I’d only ever refused once, when I was feeling unwell, but Granddad had happily accepted my decision, kissed me, and let me off. This had quite impressed me at the time, because I thought it demonstrated that he would never force us to do anything against our will, or try to pressure us into something we didn’t like. Granddad went and fetched the strap from the den, then standing between my spread legs, brought it down right on my hairless cunny mound. It stung like wildfire, but was bearable with a bit of effort, and the heat was allowed to spread through my groin as he went and delivered a similar stroke to Mom’s presented cunny. He handed the strap to Uncle Robert, who came over and whipped it down along the right side of my mound, up against the side of my leg, where it is most tender, and I gritted my teeth as my hips thrust upward. Moving sideways he dispensed the same strike to his sister, and she too lifted her bare cunny into the air as fire raced through her beaten flesh. Once more they handed the strap over, and we each took another hit to the opposite side of our prominent mound, followed by three more each administered from our head end, down between our thighs. These were particularly painful on the tender fleshy lips of a recently shaved cunny, but even though they brought tears to both of us, we bravely endured the punishment that Grandad had prescribed for us. After the final stroke, the two men stood between our open thighs, admiring their handy work, and discussing with each other, the effects the strap had had on our presented flesh. When they had agreed that we had both been suitably punished, we were instructed to stand, but with our hands behind us, so that we couldn’t rub our punished cunny to ease the pain, and growing heat. After a few minutes of being commended for the courageous way we had accepted our discipline, we were given a big hug, and Mom was kissing her Dad, while I was kissing Uncle Robert. When either of us tried to rub the heat out of our sore flesh, we were told that we were not allowed, but Granddad stroked Mom’s punished mound, and Uncle Robert ran his hand across my burning flesh, easing the pain a little bit, but also providing a welcome distraction. Finally we were both sent to our rooms to get dressed, two sore, but very happy young girls.
When we returned we ended up talking for hours, and the next two days as well. By the time the holiday was over, I had a new Granddad, Mom had a new Dad, and a new brother, and I had a new uncle. These were people we’d known all our lives, and yet it seemed we'd never known anything about them, but we’d been able to pour out our hearts to them as well. I don't know if I could have done it alone, but with Mom’s help and support, we have opened a new chapter in both our lives.
:-)
Wednesday 22 December 2010
Breaking New Ground
This post is a continuation of an earlier one, Thanksgiving 2010, which you might like to read first, for the sake of continuity.
Because the next day, Friday, was also a holiday, we had a nice lazy day planned, with a bit of a lie in, since Thanksgiving was always a busy day, what with the travelling, and the cooking, but we were all up by nine. Grandad had turned the heating up, which he always did when Mom or I visited, because we were used to Florida temperatures. Grandad always said we were delicate hot-house plants, and needed to be carefully nurtured. Mom was wearing a pale blue satin nightie, which showed the outline of her nipples, and the fact that she was obviously braless, also her pantie line, where the ruffled lace edges clearly showed through the satin. I had put on my Victoria Secret babydoll in cream, sheer nylon, with lace panels and trim, a tiny g-string that hardly covered my butt, and a narrow front section that was cutting deep into my slit. In a reasonable indoor light the outfit was fairly modest, but the strong kitchen lights made my nightie much more see through. While we sat on the high stools at the breakfast bar, drinking coffee, chatting about general things, Grandad and Uncle Robert were looking us over for a while. Grandad said that he’d been really pleased with our behaviour yesterday, becaused it showed a level of maturity, and self reliance that was to be commended. He’d been additionally impressed that we had also chosen to seek his advice on a very delicate, personal matter, even though we weren’t part of this household, but had been independent for quite some time. I told him that I’d wanted to get his male view on the situation, since Mom and I both had a much more emotional response to things, whereas a man is much more logical and reasoning. Then added as an afterthought, and more used to taking control of things. :-)
Mom said that she valued his experience, and had always appreciated his direction, even when she didn’t always agree with the stand he took, or even understand it sometimes. I could see Mom’s body language changing as she spoke so openly to her Dad, and I knew her nerves were starting to get the better of her, so I stepped in. I admitted that we had been very hesitant to broach the subject at first, but thought it was important enough to take the risk.
“What risk?” asked Grandad, and Uncle Robert added, “Did you think we were going to bite your head off?”
Mom reached out and took Grandad’s hand, “As long as I’ve known, sexual matters have never been a suitable topic of conversation in this house, and they usually resulted in me getting into trouble for something.”
I could see Grandad’s face drop, and a hurt expression come into his eyes.
“But Shelly my love, you’ve always been free to talk to me about anything,” he said, “you only had to ask.”
“Anything but sex, Dad,” my Mom replied, “you never talked of how I felt about sex.”
“It wasn’t easy for me to bring you up on my own,” he explained, “especially such a beautiful young girl as you were, so innocent and vulnerable. I had to protect you, to teach you what was the right and proper thing do. I wanted you to grow up into a daughter I could be proud of, and that’s exactly what you have become. Not only that, but you’ve also given me a grandaughter every bit as wonderful as her Mom.”
Mom burst into tears, took hold of Grandad’s other hand as well, and now looked up from the floor where her gaze had been fixed as she struggled to confront her biggest complaint against her own father. “I know it wasn’t easy for you, Dad, and I didn’t always help,” she admitted, “but what I really needed was your help with my feelings, my emotions. I needed to be taught what was right and wrong, I’ll agree, and you did a wonderful job of that, for which I’m more grateful than you’ll ever know. However, I could never talk to you about my feelings, what was going on inside me, even though I tried, because you always came back to right and wrong, and I was usually in the wrong.”
Grandad, who could see the hurt on Mom’s face, said, “I’m so sorry, Precious, I didn’t realise, please forgive me,” and he pulled her gently into an embrace, wrapping her up in his big arms.
When they had hugged for a while, Grandad eased back, just a little, and reassured Mom, “From now on there are to be no restrictions on what you ask me, anything at all. OK, my little one?”
Mom looked up and kissed him, “Yes Dad, and thank you so much.”
That doesn’t mean I’ll be able to give you a good answer though,” he added, “I’m still not the world’s best at discussing sex with ladies, especially from their point of view.”
“Don’t worry, Dad, I wouldn’t expect you to be perfect without more practice,” Mom told him, and her tone was a lot lighter now, “and I appreciate just how difficult it is for most men to understand a woman’s emotional needs.”
Grandad gave her a kiss, and a hug, then asked if we were going to get dressed now that breakfast was over.
A very cheeky idea suddenly occured to me, and I stood up, gave a twirl that lifted the hem of my nightie as I spun, then said, “But Grandad, we are dressed, aren’t we Mom?” and I waved her to twirl as well, which she did, even though she didn’t look completely comfortable with doing it. “Knowing your views on underdressed ladies, we put on our best nighties especially for you and Uncle Robert, at home when it’s a holiday we would wear this till at least lunchtime.” Mom’s face was a picture of mixed emotions, shock that I was acting so brazen, amusement because I was being so light hearted about it, and a tinge of fear in case Grandad reacted badly.
He didn’t though, bless him, he just held out his hands in all innocence, and explained, “Katie, my dear, the house dress code is there to protect the modesty of you young ladies, as are most of these rules. You’ve aways known that, even though you do try to push them more than your Mom ever did, when she was young.”
“That’s because I’m a new, liberated woman, Grandad, and I don’t feel that my modesty is under any threat from the people I love the most. You and Uncle Robert wouldn’t do anything to harm Mom or me, would you?” Grandad shook his head, then assured me that he would never allow anyone to hurt either of us, and all he wanted was to make us happy. This was the answer that I was trying to draw out of him. All the hours I’d spent watching the attorneys at the office, when they went into court, had been good negotiation training for me.
This was the crunch time, so I took my courage, and a deep breath, “What do you think would make Mom and I happy Grandad, with clothing for example, what would we feel comfortable wearing?”
I could see him weighing up his answer, “Well, slacks and a jumper, I would expect, since it’s quite cool this time of year.” Which was just the sort of reply I had expected.
I gave another twirl, “Don’t you think I look nice in this outfit, it’s comfortable, and really pretty, even warm enough with the heating turned up like this.”
“But it’s it’s hardly suitable Katie, is it now?” was his reply.
I now had to take the next step to steer Grandad towards what Mom and I really wanted to know.
“Grandad, you just told Mom that we could ask you anything we wanted, with no restrictions, and please don’t think that I’m being disrespectful in any way, but I didn’t ask if my attire was suitable. What I wanted was your honest opinion as to wether I looked nice. I know this isn’t suitable to go to the mall, or anything, but in the privacy of your home, do you, and Uncle Robert, think that I look attractive dressed in just my nightie.”
“Of course I do,” he answered, “you’re beautiful, so stop fishing for compliments young lady.”
It was so hard not to jump in the air, shouting ‘Yesssss!’, but I had to handle this just right, so I thanked him, adding “I’m not really fishing Grandad, but what we girls enjoy more than anything is being told we’re pretty, even though we already know, since we put so much time into getting ready. So if you really want to make Mom and I happy, tell us when you like what we wear. So what do you two guys think of Mom’s outfit then.” Both of them imediately agreed that Mom was also very attractive, Uncle Robert was especially enthusiastic, so I pressed my advantage, hoping that I was not pushing too far, too fast.
“Grandad, if you two both think that we girls look charming, why did you assume we would rather wear slacks and a jumper. I don’t understand.”
“Well, those clothes are a bit provacative, aren’t they,” he answered, “you could easily get us guys quite worked up walking round dressed like that.”
“Do you mean that, Grandad,” I jumped in, “do you and Uncle Robert really find us sexy.” and I gave him my biggest, happiest smile, hoping it would melt his defences, backing it up by taking his hand, and rubbing my thumb across the back of his knuckles.
As I looked at him, still wearing my best smile, I could see him struggling to answer, and slowly my expression began to change, disappointment creeping in, as I was now sure that I’d blown it. I’d put too much pressure on him, and he wasn’t going to open up to us.
“Katie, my little angel,” he started to say, hesitating for a few seconds, “of course I think you and your Mom are sexy, what man wouldn’t, unless he were already dead. You both possess the most gorgeous bodies I have ever seen, and you always dress to display your charms perfectly, but the problem is, I shouldn’t be attracted to you. You are family, and there are laws against this sort of thing for your protection.”
“He’s right, you know,” Uncle Robert joined in, “do you know what would happen to us if we gave in, and actually touched either of you. The cops would have us locked up so fast our feet wouldn’t touch the ground. Is that what you want to happen?”
“No, of course not,” I replied, “but those laws are designed to protect minors from being abused by people in authority, from being forced to do something they don’t want.” I now turned to Granddad, “That doesn’t apply in our situation because we don’t live with you now, so you no longer hold a position of authority over either myself or my Mom. You also wouldn’t be forcing either of us to do something that we didn’t want to happen.”
There was a look of surprise in Granddad’s eyes, and Uncle Robert had a similar expression as they exchanged glances, which he finished with a barely perceptible nod to his Dad.
“Well, it seems that you have given this some serious thought Katie,” Granddad continued, “is this just your idea, “ and turning to Mom he added, “or have you both been talking it over?”
While Mom had let me do most of the talking so far, she now joined in again, “Yes Dad, we often discuss our feelings for each other, and for you and Robert as well, particularly since Katie and I have become much closer. The problem of people’s attitude towards family love, which they call incest, is something we are both very aware of, so we are careful how we behave, and no-one is any the wiser.”
“It’s all right for you girls to touch and kiss, since females are touchy feely anyway,” Granddad said, “but there is no-way that I could give either of you anything more than a very basic touch to your arm or cheek.”
I could see Mom pick up on his comment, but before I could try and draw him out further, she asked exactly what I was going to, “But would you want to touch me somewhere else, somewhere softer, more personal perhaps, if you knew that I’d welcome it, rather than take offence. If we were in a quiet, private place, with the drapes closed. If no-one that knew about it would make any sort of complaint, but would support you wholeheartedly. What then Dad, would you enjoy that intimate touch.”
Granddad tried several times to say something, “But…”, “I know…”, “What if…”, finally he settled for, “Shelly, how could I ever be sure that I wouldn’t destroy my daughter’s love for her father, with such a betrayal of trust. I couldn’t stand that sort of loss, so it’s not worth taking the risk.”
“Dad, you told us that we could ask you anything we wanted, with no restrictions, and that works both ways, so if you want to be sure of my reactions before you do something, feel free to ask me. I promise there will be no ill feelings on my part, whatever you may request, though I may say no. Please be quite sure, Dad, that I have always trusted you to do what is best for me, and I will always have that trust in you. So what would you like to know?”
“My lovely princess,” Grandad asked, looking at my Mom, holding both her hands in his, “I would really enjoy intimately touching your beautiful body, would you be agreeable to such a thing?”
I could see a shiver on Mom’s shoulders, and hear a tremor in her voice as she answered quietly, “Your loving touch, anywhere you may choose, would bring me the greatest pleasure.”
Her head was slightly bowed, but her eyes had remained locked with Grandad’s the whole time, and he now drew her slowly closer, wrapping her in a shared embrace, as they both cried on each other’s shoulder. After several moments, they eased back and kissed, but not their usual father/daughter quick peck on the lips, this kiss was held for much longer, as if they were both savoring the change in their relationship.
Granddad stood back, still holding Mom’s hands, “Thank you my little treasure,” he said, “you are truly the most wonderful person I have ever known, and I’m deeply sorry for all the hurt that I’ve caused you.”
:-)
Because the next day, Friday, was also a holiday, we had a nice lazy day planned, with a bit of a lie in, since Thanksgiving was always a busy day, what with the travelling, and the cooking, but we were all up by nine. Grandad had turned the heating up, which he always did when Mom or I visited, because we were used to Florida temperatures. Grandad always said we were delicate hot-house plants, and needed to be carefully nurtured. Mom was wearing a pale blue satin nightie, which showed the outline of her nipples, and the fact that she was obviously braless, also her pantie line, where the ruffled lace edges clearly showed through the satin. I had put on my Victoria Secret babydoll in cream, sheer nylon, with lace panels and trim, a tiny g-string that hardly covered my butt, and a narrow front section that was cutting deep into my slit. In a reasonable indoor light the outfit was fairly modest, but the strong kitchen lights made my nightie much more see through. While we sat on the high stools at the breakfast bar, drinking coffee, chatting about general things, Grandad and Uncle Robert were looking us over for a while. Grandad said that he’d been really pleased with our behaviour yesterday, becaused it showed a level of maturity, and self reliance that was to be commended. He’d been additionally impressed that we had also chosen to seek his advice on a very delicate, personal matter, even though we weren’t part of this household, but had been independent for quite some time. I told him that I’d wanted to get his male view on the situation, since Mom and I both had a much more emotional response to things, whereas a man is much more logical and reasoning. Then added as an afterthought, and more used to taking control of things. :-)
Mom said that she valued his experience, and had always appreciated his direction, even when she didn’t always agree with the stand he took, or even understand it sometimes. I could see Mom’s body language changing as she spoke so openly to her Dad, and I knew her nerves were starting to get the better of her, so I stepped in. I admitted that we had been very hesitant to broach the subject at first, but thought it was important enough to take the risk.
“What risk?” asked Grandad, and Uncle Robert added, “Did you think we were going to bite your head off?”
Mom reached out and took Grandad’s hand, “As long as I’ve known, sexual matters have never been a suitable topic of conversation in this house, and they usually resulted in me getting into trouble for something.”
I could see Grandad’s face drop, and a hurt expression come into his eyes.
“But Shelly my love, you’ve always been free to talk to me about anything,” he said, “you only had to ask.”
“Anything but sex, Dad,” my Mom replied, “you never talked of how I felt about sex.”
“It wasn’t easy for me to bring you up on my own,” he explained, “especially such a beautiful young girl as you were, so innocent and vulnerable. I had to protect you, to teach you what was the right and proper thing do. I wanted you to grow up into a daughter I could be proud of, and that’s exactly what you have become. Not only that, but you’ve also given me a grandaughter every bit as wonderful as her Mom.”
Mom burst into tears, took hold of Grandad’s other hand as well, and now looked up from the floor where her gaze had been fixed as she struggled to confront her biggest complaint against her own father. “I know it wasn’t easy for you, Dad, and I didn’t always help,” she admitted, “but what I really needed was your help with my feelings, my emotions. I needed to be taught what was right and wrong, I’ll agree, and you did a wonderful job of that, for which I’m more grateful than you’ll ever know. However, I could never talk to you about my feelings, what was going on inside me, even though I tried, because you always came back to right and wrong, and I was usually in the wrong.”
Grandad, who could see the hurt on Mom’s face, said, “I’m so sorry, Precious, I didn’t realise, please forgive me,” and he pulled her gently into an embrace, wrapping her up in his big arms.
When they had hugged for a while, Grandad eased back, just a little, and reassured Mom, “From now on there are to be no restrictions on what you ask me, anything at all. OK, my little one?”
Mom looked up and kissed him, “Yes Dad, and thank you so much.”
That doesn’t mean I’ll be able to give you a good answer though,” he added, “I’m still not the world’s best at discussing sex with ladies, especially from their point of view.”
“Don’t worry, Dad, I wouldn’t expect you to be perfect without more practice,” Mom told him, and her tone was a lot lighter now, “and I appreciate just how difficult it is for most men to understand a woman’s emotional needs.”
Grandad gave her a kiss, and a hug, then asked if we were going to get dressed now that breakfast was over.
A very cheeky idea suddenly occured to me, and I stood up, gave a twirl that lifted the hem of my nightie as I spun, then said, “But Grandad, we are dressed, aren’t we Mom?” and I waved her to twirl as well, which she did, even though she didn’t look completely comfortable with doing it. “Knowing your views on underdressed ladies, we put on our best nighties especially for you and Uncle Robert, at home when it’s a holiday we would wear this till at least lunchtime.” Mom’s face was a picture of mixed emotions, shock that I was acting so brazen, amusement because I was being so light hearted about it, and a tinge of fear in case Grandad reacted badly.
He didn’t though, bless him, he just held out his hands in all innocence, and explained, “Katie, my dear, the house dress code is there to protect the modesty of you young ladies, as are most of these rules. You’ve aways known that, even though you do try to push them more than your Mom ever did, when she was young.”
“That’s because I’m a new, liberated woman, Grandad, and I don’t feel that my modesty is under any threat from the people I love the most. You and Uncle Robert wouldn’t do anything to harm Mom or me, would you?” Grandad shook his head, then assured me that he would never allow anyone to hurt either of us, and all he wanted was to make us happy. This was the answer that I was trying to draw out of him. All the hours I’d spent watching the attorneys at the office, when they went into court, had been good negotiation training for me.
This was the crunch time, so I took my courage, and a deep breath, “What do you think would make Mom and I happy Grandad, with clothing for example, what would we feel comfortable wearing?”
I could see him weighing up his answer, “Well, slacks and a jumper, I would expect, since it’s quite cool this time of year.” Which was just the sort of reply I had expected.
I gave another twirl, “Don’t you think I look nice in this outfit, it’s comfortable, and really pretty, even warm enough with the heating turned up like this.”
“But it’s it’s hardly suitable Katie, is it now?” was his reply.
I now had to take the next step to steer Grandad towards what Mom and I really wanted to know.
“Grandad, you just told Mom that we could ask you anything we wanted, with no restrictions, and please don’t think that I’m being disrespectful in any way, but I didn’t ask if my attire was suitable. What I wanted was your honest opinion as to wether I looked nice. I know this isn’t suitable to go to the mall, or anything, but in the privacy of your home, do you, and Uncle Robert, think that I look attractive dressed in just my nightie.”
“Of course I do,” he answered, “you’re beautiful, so stop fishing for compliments young lady.”
It was so hard not to jump in the air, shouting ‘Yesssss!’, but I had to handle this just right, so I thanked him, adding “I’m not really fishing Grandad, but what we girls enjoy more than anything is being told we’re pretty, even though we already know, since we put so much time into getting ready. So if you really want to make Mom and I happy, tell us when you like what we wear. So what do you two guys think of Mom’s outfit then.” Both of them imediately agreed that Mom was also very attractive, Uncle Robert was especially enthusiastic, so I pressed my advantage, hoping that I was not pushing too far, too fast.
“Grandad, if you two both think that we girls look charming, why did you assume we would rather wear slacks and a jumper. I don’t understand.”
“Well, those clothes are a bit provacative, aren’t they,” he answered, “you could easily get us guys quite worked up walking round dressed like that.”
“Do you mean that, Grandad,” I jumped in, “do you and Uncle Robert really find us sexy.” and I gave him my biggest, happiest smile, hoping it would melt his defences, backing it up by taking his hand, and rubbing my thumb across the back of his knuckles.
As I looked at him, still wearing my best smile, I could see him struggling to answer, and slowly my expression began to change, disappointment creeping in, as I was now sure that I’d blown it. I’d put too much pressure on him, and he wasn’t going to open up to us.
“Katie, my little angel,” he started to say, hesitating for a few seconds, “of course I think you and your Mom are sexy, what man wouldn’t, unless he were already dead. You both possess the most gorgeous bodies I have ever seen, and you always dress to display your charms perfectly, but the problem is, I shouldn’t be attracted to you. You are family, and there are laws against this sort of thing for your protection.”
“He’s right, you know,” Uncle Robert joined in, “do you know what would happen to us if we gave in, and actually touched either of you. The cops would have us locked up so fast our feet wouldn’t touch the ground. Is that what you want to happen?”
“No, of course not,” I replied, “but those laws are designed to protect minors from being abused by people in authority, from being forced to do something they don’t want.” I now turned to Granddad, “That doesn’t apply in our situation because we don’t live with you now, so you no longer hold a position of authority over either myself or my Mom. You also wouldn’t be forcing either of us to do something that we didn’t want to happen.”
There was a look of surprise in Granddad’s eyes, and Uncle Robert had a similar expression as they exchanged glances, which he finished with a barely perceptible nod to his Dad.
“Well, it seems that you have given this some serious thought Katie,” Granddad continued, “is this just your idea, “ and turning to Mom he added, “or have you both been talking it over?”
While Mom had let me do most of the talking so far, she now joined in again, “Yes Dad, we often discuss our feelings for each other, and for you and Robert as well, particularly since Katie and I have become much closer. The problem of people’s attitude towards family love, which they call incest, is something we are both very aware of, so we are careful how we behave, and no-one is any the wiser.”
“It’s all right for you girls to touch and kiss, since females are touchy feely anyway,” Granddad said, “but there is no-way that I could give either of you anything more than a very basic touch to your arm or cheek.”
I could see Mom pick up on his comment, but before I could try and draw him out further, she asked exactly what I was going to, “But would you want to touch me somewhere else, somewhere softer, more personal perhaps, if you knew that I’d welcome it, rather than take offence. If we were in a quiet, private place, with the drapes closed. If no-one that knew about it would make any sort of complaint, but would support you wholeheartedly. What then Dad, would you enjoy that intimate touch.”
Granddad tried several times to say something, “But…”, “I know…”, “What if…”, finally he settled for, “Shelly, how could I ever be sure that I wouldn’t destroy my daughter’s love for her father, with such a betrayal of trust. I couldn’t stand that sort of loss, so it’s not worth taking the risk.”
“Dad, you told us that we could ask you anything we wanted, with no restrictions, and that works both ways, so if you want to be sure of my reactions before you do something, feel free to ask me. I promise there will be no ill feelings on my part, whatever you may request, though I may say no. Please be quite sure, Dad, that I have always trusted you to do what is best for me, and I will always have that trust in you. So what would you like to know?”
“My lovely princess,” Grandad asked, looking at my Mom, holding both her hands in his, “I would really enjoy intimately touching your beautiful body, would you be agreeable to such a thing?”
I could see a shiver on Mom’s shoulders, and hear a tremor in her voice as she answered quietly, “Your loving touch, anywhere you may choose, would bring me the greatest pleasure.”
Her head was slightly bowed, but her eyes had remained locked with Grandad’s the whole time, and he now drew her slowly closer, wrapping her in a shared embrace, as they both cried on each other’s shoulder. After several moments, they eased back and kissed, but not their usual father/daughter quick peck on the lips, this kiss was held for much longer, as if they were both savoring the change in their relationship.
Granddad stood back, still holding Mom’s hands, “Thank you my little treasure,” he said, “you are truly the most wonderful person I have ever known, and I’m deeply sorry for all the hurt that I’ve caused you.”
:-)
Thanksgiving 2010
Mom and I flew up to New York early on Thursday morning to spend the holiday with Grandad, he’s going to meet us at the airport to take us on to his house, and my Uncle Robert is going to be there as well. It’ll be really wonderful all of us being together again, it seems so long since we were all in the same place, and I’m looking forward to it. We’ll have to come back on Sunday evening for work next week, but it gives us four days together.
Macy’s Parade
As usual, when we spend Thanksgiving with Grandad, we go and watch Macy’s parade when we arrive, before going on to Grandad’s house. In order to get a good viewing spot, many people arrive before 6:30 a.m. the morning of the parade to stake out space along the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade route, but Grandad knows a couple of shortcuts from the subway exit that bring us out of an alleyway, just at the back of the crowd. If we’re patient, there are usually quite a few opportunities to work our way to the front as people change places. We always make sure to wear plenty of warm clothes when visiting at this time of year, and Grandad brings a thermos full of coffee, and another with hot cocoa, as it can be quite cold at the parade. I got some great pictures, and posted them on my Flickr site HERE.
Preparing Dinner
We stayed for a couple of hours, then when the parade finished we made our way back to the car. Grandad’s house smelled gorgeous when we got back there, he’s had the turkey cooking on low for ages, so we dropped our bags in our rooms, took off our big coats, and joined everyone else in the kitchen to help prepare the vegetables, and other trimmings for dinner. It’s great fun being together like this, working and chatting, and Grandad always let’s me have a glass of wine as well, which is not much in itself, now that I’m 21, but it’s always been like this as long as I can remember. This is what being a family means, Grandad always says, sharing in everything, the rewards, as well as the work, so anyone that helps prepare dinner deserves some wine. I must have been about 5 years old when I first remember having a glass of wine with them, though Grandad has told me that even before that I would be allowed a sip from his glass when I helped set the table. Mind you, my glass usually contained soda; with about a teaspoonful of wine, when I was really young, then as I grew up the portion of wine increased each year, till now there was no soda in it at all. Grandad still teases me though, and always asks if I want a glass of soda with them.
While the rest of the dinner cooked, we all went into the lounge to catch up on the latest news, how everyone was doing, how much we missed each other, and stories from the past. Mom always tried to embarrass me with tales of how I spent most of my childhood taking my clothes off when I was playing, and I dutifully acted embarrassed, though it has always excited me rather than shamed me, to have these two men discuss my nudity with Mom. Uncle Robert always rescued me though, by telling similar stories about how many times Mom had been naked when she was growing up.
The best stories though, were family holidays, and the wonderful times we would all enjoy together.
Dinner was wonderful, as always, Grandad is a really good cook, but of course the veggies were just as expertly prepared. By the time we had eaten till we nearly burst, it was early evening, and we moved to the lounge again, relaxing in comfy chairs with a small glass of Sherry for the ladies, and a Brandy for the gentlemen. We chatted for a while about the things we were thankful for, as we always do after Thanksgiving dinner, and I steered the comments round to how much I appreciated being brought up in a family that had helped me make good decisions about the important things in my life, and still gave that same help even now. Grandad thanked me for my compliment, but added that I was now 21 years old, and quite capable of making decisions without any help, but he could see that I was concerned about something. I sat up in my chair, explaining that I had a very delicate matter to discuss with everyone, and I would greatly appreciate their patience while I put it before them. Grandad and Uncle Robert nodded their assent, and Mom looked more apprehensive than I’d ever seen her.
I took a deep breath, and then started to explain that during my last visit to my MD, she raised the question concerning what I was going to do about my virginity, since I was now 21 years old, and we had talked over all the different aspects that needed to be considered.
After I had discussed all these issues with Mom, we agreed what we would like to do, but that we should also talk them over with Grandad and Uncle Robert, when we visited them this weekend, as both of us greatly valued their advice, even though the decision had already been made.
Mom and I agreed that we would ask Dr Forrest to perform a hymenectomy on me, as she had suggested, where my cherry would be given a series of holes to weaken it, like a piece of perforated paper. I would then surrender my virginity to my lovely Mom, and she will be able to achieve a proper penetration with a strap-on dildo that would sucessfully take my cherry.
We intend to ring Dr Forrest as soon as we get back from Grandad’s, in order to make the necessary arrangements for it to be done.
When I had finished my explanation, I asked Grandad if he thought it was a good idea, then sat nervously as he seemed to mull things over for a short while. His first question was wether I was absolutely positive that I was ready to give up my virginity, and I assured him that after much thought about the subject I was certain it was what I wanted to do. He reminded me that sexual matters were not a usual topic for discussion, especially with young ladies present, then asked me if I was sure that I wanted to enter into this type of conversation, to which I assured him that I was.
Grandad wanted to know why I didn’t want to give my virginity to some boy that I was dating, rather than my Mom, though he never raised any objection to my choice, but added that this was usually given as a gift when getting married. I explained that none of the men I knew were worth getting married to, then he had me explain how many boys I’d dated, what I liked and disliked most about them, finally leading me to explain my sexual involvement with them. I’d never had such an intimate conversation with Grandad before, and he pushed for more and more details, even asking for Uncle Robert’s view on my comments, as well as bringing Mom in to explain if she knew about my sexual activity. I felt very proud that Mom backed me up, telling Grandad that we would often discuss my dates, and she was satisfied that I usually made the right decisions, and I was very mature in my relationships with boys. Grandad was much calmer than I’d expected him to be, based on how he reacted when we usually visited, or when he came over to our house, and I couldn’t help mentioning how relieved I was that it was going so well. Grandad explained that I was 21 years old now, and obviously quite capable of making good decisions, although they weren’t necessarily what he would have chosen, but I seemed to have thought them through. He was confident that I would accept the concequences of my actions, and in this day and age he was sure they would not bring any reproach on myself, or the family.
He raised the issue of my relationship with Mom being incestuous, and how we would stand legally, so I explained the research I’d done, and that we were quite safe at home, and also here at his house in New Jersey. He commended me on my thoroughness, adding that he would have expected no less from someone as clever as he’d always known his grandaughter to be.
Uncle Robert said he’d noticed that Mom had put an emphasis on the word “boys”, when talking about my love life, and he wondered if there were other relationships that had not been mentioned, and he turned to me with that look on his face which says he can see right through me.
I admitted that I’d had several intimate friendships with girls as well, once more having to provide all of the same details I had earlier, including my sexual activities with them, which were actually more extensive than I’d had with my boyfriends. This part of the conversation was even more nerve wracking for me, since both Grandad and Uncle Robert had never taken a supportive view before when lesbians had been mentioned on the TV, or in conversation. Grandad asked wether I’d given any consideration to letting one of my girls take my virginity, but I assured him that, while I had liked them very much, none of my girlfriends were suitable.
Grandad said that he was quite satisfied that I had indeed thought the whole matter through in great depth, including my Mom in my deliberations, as well as considering the many consequences of my actions, and finally seeking advice from the rest of the family. In view of this he would be happy to support my decision, then he turned to ask Uncle Robert what he thought of it all. He was also very willing to support me, especially since I had demonstrated such a mature attitude towards the whole situation, and he wished me every success and happiness for the future.
I jumped up and hugged both of them, thanking them for their understanding, and their love. Standing in the middle of the room, I admitted that Mom and I had both been very nervous about broaching such a delicate subject, but we respected both of them so much that we thought they deserved to know. Mom stood up to second my comments, adding that she really appreciated her Dad’s patience, and consideration for us, especially since she knew that this sort of thing was not usually considered a suitable topic of conversation.
Grandad and Uncle Robert were also standing now, and we had a lovely group hug, all of us openly expressing our deep love for each other. Grandad said he was glad we’d shared this with the family, and it just went to show what Thanksgiving was all about. Since it was now quite late, we all turned in for the night, and Mom spent a few minutes in my room while we agreed how unexpectedly well the whole evening had seemed to go, then she gave me a goodnight kiss, and went to her own room.
:-)
Macy’s Parade
As usual, when we spend Thanksgiving with Grandad, we go and watch Macy’s parade when we arrive, before going on to Grandad’s house. In order to get a good viewing spot, many people arrive before 6:30 a.m. the morning of the parade to stake out space along the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade route, but Grandad knows a couple of shortcuts from the subway exit that bring us out of an alleyway, just at the back of the crowd. If we’re patient, there are usually quite a few opportunities to work our way to the front as people change places. We always make sure to wear plenty of warm clothes when visiting at this time of year, and Grandad brings a thermos full of coffee, and another with hot cocoa, as it can be quite cold at the parade. I got some great pictures, and posted them on my Flickr site HERE.
Preparing Dinner
We stayed for a couple of hours, then when the parade finished we made our way back to the car. Grandad’s house smelled gorgeous when we got back there, he’s had the turkey cooking on low for ages, so we dropped our bags in our rooms, took off our big coats, and joined everyone else in the kitchen to help prepare the vegetables, and other trimmings for dinner. It’s great fun being together like this, working and chatting, and Grandad always let’s me have a glass of wine as well, which is not much in itself, now that I’m 21, but it’s always been like this as long as I can remember. This is what being a family means, Grandad always says, sharing in everything, the rewards, as well as the work, so anyone that helps prepare dinner deserves some wine. I must have been about 5 years old when I first remember having a glass of wine with them, though Grandad has told me that even before that I would be allowed a sip from his glass when I helped set the table. Mind you, my glass usually contained soda; with about a teaspoonful of wine, when I was really young, then as I grew up the portion of wine increased each year, till now there was no soda in it at all. Grandad still teases me though, and always asks if I want a glass of soda with them.
While the rest of the dinner cooked, we all went into the lounge to catch up on the latest news, how everyone was doing, how much we missed each other, and stories from the past. Mom always tried to embarrass me with tales of how I spent most of my childhood taking my clothes off when I was playing, and I dutifully acted embarrassed, though it has always excited me rather than shamed me, to have these two men discuss my nudity with Mom. Uncle Robert always rescued me though, by telling similar stories about how many times Mom had been naked when she was growing up.
The best stories though, were family holidays, and the wonderful times we would all enjoy together.
Dinner was wonderful, as always, Grandad is a really good cook, but of course the veggies were just as expertly prepared. By the time we had eaten till we nearly burst, it was early evening, and we moved to the lounge again, relaxing in comfy chairs with a small glass of Sherry for the ladies, and a Brandy for the gentlemen. We chatted for a while about the things we were thankful for, as we always do after Thanksgiving dinner, and I steered the comments round to how much I appreciated being brought up in a family that had helped me make good decisions about the important things in my life, and still gave that same help even now. Grandad thanked me for my compliment, but added that I was now 21 years old, and quite capable of making decisions without any help, but he could see that I was concerned about something. I sat up in my chair, explaining that I had a very delicate matter to discuss with everyone, and I would greatly appreciate their patience while I put it before them. Grandad and Uncle Robert nodded their assent, and Mom looked more apprehensive than I’d ever seen her.
I took a deep breath, and then started to explain that during my last visit to my MD, she raised the question concerning what I was going to do about my virginity, since I was now 21 years old, and we had talked over all the different aspects that needed to be considered.
After I had discussed all these issues with Mom, we agreed what we would like to do, but that we should also talk them over with Grandad and Uncle Robert, when we visited them this weekend, as both of us greatly valued their advice, even though the decision had already been made.
Mom and I agreed that we would ask Dr Forrest to perform a hymenectomy on me, as she had suggested, where my cherry would be given a series of holes to weaken it, like a piece of perforated paper. I would then surrender my virginity to my lovely Mom, and she will be able to achieve a proper penetration with a strap-on dildo that would sucessfully take my cherry.
We intend to ring Dr Forrest as soon as we get back from Grandad’s, in order to make the necessary arrangements for it to be done.
When I had finished my explanation, I asked Grandad if he thought it was a good idea, then sat nervously as he seemed to mull things over for a short while. His first question was wether I was absolutely positive that I was ready to give up my virginity, and I assured him that after much thought about the subject I was certain it was what I wanted to do. He reminded me that sexual matters were not a usual topic for discussion, especially with young ladies present, then asked me if I was sure that I wanted to enter into this type of conversation, to which I assured him that I was.
Grandad wanted to know why I didn’t want to give my virginity to some boy that I was dating, rather than my Mom, though he never raised any objection to my choice, but added that this was usually given as a gift when getting married. I explained that none of the men I knew were worth getting married to, then he had me explain how many boys I’d dated, what I liked and disliked most about them, finally leading me to explain my sexual involvement with them. I’d never had such an intimate conversation with Grandad before, and he pushed for more and more details, even asking for Uncle Robert’s view on my comments, as well as bringing Mom in to explain if she knew about my sexual activity. I felt very proud that Mom backed me up, telling Grandad that we would often discuss my dates, and she was satisfied that I usually made the right decisions, and I was very mature in my relationships with boys. Grandad was much calmer than I’d expected him to be, based on how he reacted when we usually visited, or when he came over to our house, and I couldn’t help mentioning how relieved I was that it was going so well. Grandad explained that I was 21 years old now, and obviously quite capable of making good decisions, although they weren’t necessarily what he would have chosen, but I seemed to have thought them through. He was confident that I would accept the concequences of my actions, and in this day and age he was sure they would not bring any reproach on myself, or the family.
He raised the issue of my relationship with Mom being incestuous, and how we would stand legally, so I explained the research I’d done, and that we were quite safe at home, and also here at his house in New Jersey. He commended me on my thoroughness, adding that he would have expected no less from someone as clever as he’d always known his grandaughter to be.
Uncle Robert said he’d noticed that Mom had put an emphasis on the word “boys”, when talking about my love life, and he wondered if there were other relationships that had not been mentioned, and he turned to me with that look on his face which says he can see right through me.
I admitted that I’d had several intimate friendships with girls as well, once more having to provide all of the same details I had earlier, including my sexual activities with them, which were actually more extensive than I’d had with my boyfriends. This part of the conversation was even more nerve wracking for me, since both Grandad and Uncle Robert had never taken a supportive view before when lesbians had been mentioned on the TV, or in conversation. Grandad asked wether I’d given any consideration to letting one of my girls take my virginity, but I assured him that, while I had liked them very much, none of my girlfriends were suitable.
Grandad said that he was quite satisfied that I had indeed thought the whole matter through in great depth, including my Mom in my deliberations, as well as considering the many consequences of my actions, and finally seeking advice from the rest of the family. In view of this he would be happy to support my decision, then he turned to ask Uncle Robert what he thought of it all. He was also very willing to support me, especially since I had demonstrated such a mature attitude towards the whole situation, and he wished me every success and happiness for the future.
I jumped up and hugged both of them, thanking them for their understanding, and their love. Standing in the middle of the room, I admitted that Mom and I had both been very nervous about broaching such a delicate subject, but we respected both of them so much that we thought they deserved to know. Mom stood up to second my comments, adding that she really appreciated her Dad’s patience, and consideration for us, especially since she knew that this sort of thing was not usually considered a suitable topic of conversation.
Grandad and Uncle Robert were also standing now, and we had a lovely group hug, all of us openly expressing our deep love for each other. Grandad said he was glad we’d shared this with the family, and it just went to show what Thanksgiving was all about. Since it was now quite late, we all turned in for the night, and Mom spent a few minutes in my room while we agreed how unexpectedly well the whole evening had seemed to go, then she gave me a goodnight kiss, and went to her own room.
:-)
Monday 15 November 2010
Cherry Picking
During my last visit to my MD, she raised the question concerning what I was going to do about my virginity, since I was now 21 years old, and still hadn’t lost it. During the exam, which had earlier been joined by several medical students, the doctor pointed out that my cherry was quite strong.
“While Katie has a rather tough hymen,” commented Dr Forrest, “that has resisted all attempts so far to tear it, she is still reasonably expandable. How much can you take at the moment, little girl?”
Lowering my eyes, I responded, “Just my index finger, Miss, to full depth, and I have a small pink vibrator that I can squeeze in there without much discomfort.”
Dr Forrest pointed out that the areas of pressure never showed any serious discoloration, so there was little danger of a split developing. She also indicated how the edge of the aperture itself was resistant to injury, noting that this could lead to serious problems later in life, if I wanted to marry.
After the exam, she raised the matter of my virginity, which posed serious difficulty in performing some of the assessments that were part of my review. The dilation test for someone of my age was well below normal because of my intact hymen, and while she appreciated that I wanted to save my virginity for my husband, she urged me to consider my reasoning behind this decision, and also the past and current status of my love life.
Dr Forrest knew from numerous interviews that I was bisexual, and as the discussion had turned to a list of my past encounters, (I was going to say lovers, but no-one actually fitted this category, except one person), the doctor encouraged me to analyse the pros and cons of each one. While many of them had redeeming qualities, they all fell short in several of the important areas, which often was the cause of the relationship breaking down.
Mom and I were talking about it over the weekend, particularly how many boyfriends, and girl friends, I’d had over the years.
My first boyfriend, when I was 12, was James Rodwell from my class at school, and we would hang out with friends in the park down the road, or in the mall at the weekends, but the relationship only went as far as holding hands, or an arm round the shoulder. We hung out together for just over a year, but when we came back after summer break, he really got into studying, and we just drifted apart, seeing less and less of each other.
I was 16 years old when I got my next boyfriend, Gordon Palmer, and he was a real dish, good looking, clever, and very funny. He was on the football team at high school while I was on the swim team, and we’d often pass in the corridor outside the locker rooms when we were both at training. He invited me out with him, to go to the mall with a group of other kids from school, and we were together for a few months. I even invited him back to our house a couple of times, before Mom got home from work, but we went a bit too far one day, and I got into serious trouble over it from Mom.
I’d expected him to stand by me, and explain, but he just ran off and left me, then he broke up with me straight after.
Later that year I was complaining about guys in general, with the rest of the girls on our lunch table in the cafeteria, and when we went back towards classes, one of the girls, Emily Smith, walked with me, saying how much she agreed, and we became good friends. We went to each others houses after school to do our homework together, both our Moms worked till a couple of hours after school turned out, so we were company for each other. We ended up experimenting sexually, comparing our bodies, kissing, and touching, and having masturbation tutorials, which were great fun. Emily had really puffy nipples, which I thought were gorgeous, and she was fascinated with my cherry because she’d broken hers years ago while fingering her pussy. We were together for round about six months, but then we met another group of kids at the mall one Saturday, and both of us were attracted to a couple of the guys. We went around in a foursome most times, even when there might be a dozen kids in the group, we four always stuck together, and eventually Emily started a thing with Martin Price, and I spent more time with Dave Bennet. He was nice in most ways, attentive to what I wanted to do, but he was always pestering me to have sex, even though we had agreed that we’d not go any further than petting for a while. I’d seen how some of the girls at school would go wild with boys, and several of them had reputations, but I had no intention of behaving like that. Dave would ask me to go further every time we were playing with each other, I’d say no, and he’d say OK, then we carried on. In the end he dumped me for one of the cheerleaders, but I found out he had been dating her for about three weeks before he told me.
I was round at his house when he told me, and I was quite upset, but he just shrugged and went out to one of his buddy’s houses, leaving me there with just his sister Marilyn at home. She was really sympathetic with me because she didn’t have a very high opinion of her brother, and didn’t agree with him seeing the cheerleader, and me, at the same time, or the way he told me. She comforted me for a while, then gradually we got kissing each other, which she was really good at, then touching, and eventually we ended up in her bed. She had a great body, and we’d spend hours up in her room, trying on clothes and fixing our makeup, or just sitting around naked, which she loved to do, and so did I, which is probably one of the reasons we got on so well. Marilyn was fantastic at licking pussy which she taught me to do, and we’d do 69 nearly every time we met.
Marilyn went to the same school as me, but not the same classes, and we both got friendly with a girl that had just moved in to her class from out of state, Pamela Hall, inviting her back to my house or Marilyn’s, to make her feel at home. She enjoyed trying on clothes with us, and we did the same when we went over to her house, even having a sleepover a couple of times. When Marilyn found herself a boyfriend, we didn’t see as much of her, but Pamela and I used to hang around a lot, which she thought was absolutely great when she was round at mine, because Mom was so open about sex. Her parents were very straight, and she couldn’t talk to her Mom, other than the basic feminine hygiene stuff she needed to know, and what Pam said was an extremely embarassing chat on birth control where her Mom ended up in a flood of tears. We had a couple of sleepovers, where we had to wear PJ’s at her house, or a robe as well if we had a nightie on, but she loved sleeping over at my house because she could wear what she wanted. She had two gorgeous nighties that an Aunt bought her as presents, which were wonderfully sheer, came halfway up her thighs, and had tiny, cute frilly panties with them. Her Mom thought they were disgusting, and wouldn’t let her wear them outside her locked bedroom, not even with a robe to cover her up, so Pam was over the moon when I told her to bring them over. Not only did she get to wear them, but my Mom kept telling her how much better they made her look, soft and feminine, which Pam thought was wonderful. That night, Pam and I ended up in bed together, though we didn’t get much sleep, or any other night she stayed over after that, we just played most of the night. Pam wasn’t serious about our relationship though, it was just fun for her till she found the right man to marry, which she eventually did, but we saw each other on and off for a couple of years.
When I was 18, and in the graduation year at high school, I was dating Martin Price, who was a really nice guy, very friendly, polite, kind, and really observant of other people’s feelings, by far the best guy I’d ever known. Mom loved him, and he tried his best to make a good impression with her, even bringing her flowers when he picked me up a couple of times. We’d gone as far as petting on our dates, but neither of us wanted to rush into sex till we knew each other better, and we had loads of things to do, and talk about, without needing to jump into bed at every opportunity. We were just past graduation, and doing great together, when his parents moved over to California with his Dad’s employer, and he went with them because he wanted to go to one of the universities over there. We wrote to each other for a couple of months, but then he found a girlfriend over there, so we parted on the best of terms, and just exchange christmas cards now.
When I went to college I got involved with a girl in my General Studies class, Vanessa Butler, who was a profound activist, and wanted to change everything, but she was really friendly with everyone she met, and so funny in conversation. Vanessa was totally gay, and extremely proud of it, so when she found out that I was bisexual, she invited me out on a date, and we were together for a over two months. We eventually parted because she just couldn’t leave things as they were, everything had to be changed to something else. She decorated her apartment three times in about as many months, and when we were together,she wanted to change my wardrobe, my hair, my makeup, and not just a little bit, but drastic changes. The one thing she did like was my smooth pussy, because she’d not had many girlfriends that were hairless, and most of them had refused her suggestions that they shave everything off. Mind you, I refused point blank to shave my head when Vanessa wanted to take me to her stylist, not that I understood what you can make out of a bald head. What really put an end to us though, was a friend of hers who worked at a Body Piercing studio a couple of blocks away from college. I’d agreed to have my navel pierced because it was something I’d always found looked pretty on the women I’d seen who’d had it done, but as usual, Vanessa wanted to go over the top. She wanted me to pierce my nipples, multiple times, both sets of pussy lips, my clitoral hood, and the clit itself, then to have some tattoos done, but I said I wasn’t ready for so much just yet. What I did relent to, was to let her decorate my body with marker pens, as long as they washed off, and her designs didn’t show outside of my normal clothes. She was happy with that for a while, and to be honest, some of them I quite liked, usually the small, neat ones, my favorites being a black cat on my pubic mound, and a pair of joined red cherries right at the top of my slit. My Mom’s favorite was when Vanessa had written “Pussy Slut” across my hairless mound in black script, but she’d got a permanent marker instead of the usualwashable ones, so I had it for nearly a week. I’d kicked up a fuss about that, on principle, but I actually liked it because it was very neat work, and the sentiment actually turned me on. I would never have it done for real though, because it’s too permanent, and in a few years I could get tired of it, or not like it anymore. Vanessa wouldn’t let it lie though, she just went on and on, every time we met, so in the end I finished with her.
During my second year at college I dated about half a dozen guys, some from college, some that I met elsewhere, but while they all presented very well when they were making the effort, it didn’t take to long to get to know them, and discover their failings. Some of these were quite serious, but one of the advantages of studying for a ParaLegal degree is that you learn how to investigate things properly, and you have access to some cool systems.
My best relationship was with Susan Blanchard, who was on the Phys Ed course, and I met down at the college pool. We used to swim together, finish about the same time, then shower and change, so if there was time, we’d go have a coffee afterwards. Sue had really long hair, and she used to ask me to help her wash it, especially to make sure all the shampoo was rinsed out of it afterwards, and since we were both naked, there began to be a lot of sensual touching. We seemed to get on really well together, and thoroughly enjoyed our time together for nearly a year, but then, out of the blue, she said she didn’t want to see me anymore. I saw in the corridor a couple of times, and she’d give a polite hello, but never stop to talk, she never turned up at the pool again while I was there, and she never answered any of my phone messages. I found out from one of the counsellors at college, as we were chatting in the cafeteria, that Sue had met a guy at her church who was a good friend of the family, well his parents were, and they were going to get married the next year. Apparently his Dad was something big in finance in the city, and had loads of money, so the counsellor thought this may be one of the reasons. I was a bit upset that Sue haddn’t explained this to me herself, but that itself showed that she wasn’t concerned about me.
My last girlfriend had been nearly a year ago, Tracy Moran, who I’d met on one of the internships I’d done at college, and we’d been out together about once a week for a couple of months. Most of our conversations were pretty much day to day stuff, girl talk really, and she’s quite a few years older than me, but she’d invited me back to her place on the first date, and we’d had fantastic sex together. We’d dressed up, role played, done a bit of bondage and spanking, taking turns to Domme, and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, but at the end of the day Tracy was just after a bit of fun with a younger girl like myself. This lasted for a few months, then she said she wasn’t bothered anymore, and she’d found a new playmate, even younger than me. I wasn’t that bothered really, because we’d never actually got to know each other, it was just sex, so we agreed to move on.
When Mom and I talked over all of these boyfriends and girlfriends, the only relationship I’d had in all this time that meant anything to me, the only person who genuinely cared about me, and my own needs, was my Mom. Not only that, but I felt exactly the same about her. Apart from the fact that we were related, we were the perfect couple, loving, caring, willing to put the others wellbeing and happiness before our own interests. Neither of us had a partner, and we already lived together. Having an incestuous sexual relationship wouldn’t present the usual inbreeding problems, since we were unlikely to have any children between us, and we already had sex with each other, just on an occasional basis. We were both bisexual, with a strong preference for girls, we shared many of the same interests in erotica, and porn, and were both submissive. We discussed this last point at some length because both Mom and Dad had been submissives when they married, and it hadn’t worked out for them. Dad had left after six years, but he’d really struggled during that time, and while Mom had willingly Dommed him when he needed it, he was never comfortable doing the same for her, in fact he seemed to resent her. Finally we came to the decision that Dad had got married because his sister, my Aunt Adele, had told him to, not because he loved Mom. Fond of her yes, but not love. Once he’d lost Aunt Adele’s control, he couldn’t cope on his own, and he knew that Mom wasn’t really a Domme, so he went looking elsewhere, and found his secretary, who he’d happily run off with to the other side of the country, for all we knew. The relationship between Mom and I was much stronger than that, and we were confident that it would survive the test of time. We also knew that if either of us should meet someone else we grew to love, then we would be happy to let the other one go, because we would still have our family bond.
We have looked into the restrictions on lesbian incest, and it appears that New Jersey, where my Grandad lives, does not apply any penalties for incest when both parties are 18 years of age or older.
In all states, close blood-relatives that fall under the incest statutes include father, mother, grandfather, grandmother, brother, sister, aunt, uncle, niece, nephew, and in some states, first cousins. Many states also apply incest laws to non-blood relations including stepparents, step-siblings, and in-laws
So what happens in Florida ?
Statute 826.04 Incest. ---
Whoever knowingly marries or has sexual intercourse with a person to whom he is related by lineal consanguinity, or a brother, sister, uncle, aunt, nephew, or niece, commits incest, which constitutes a felony of the third degree, punishable as provided in s. 775.082, s. 775.083, or s. 775.084. "Sexual intercourse" is the penetration of the female sex organ by the male sex organ, however slight; emission of semen is not required.
Our conclusion is that since there is no penetration by a male sex organ, lesbian relationships between close family cannot be considered incest.
Virginity is considered important by many people, myself included, because it is a one time only gift that a girl can give to whoever she chooses. Many people think it is only for a husband, and while this may not always be the case, I believe it is important that it is given to someone you love, and deeply care for, not wasted frivolously.
There are different attitudes as to wether someone is a virgin or not, today there is a lot of peer pressure to lose your virginity, and be like the rest of the group, but it’s what matters to me that is the most important thing, not other people’s opinions. If they are true friends they won’t care if I’m a virgin or not, they will respect my decisions, no matter what they are. If I decide to put off sex, then it’s OK, no matter what anyone says, and I’ve had quite a few disparaging comments through high school, and college, but not from anybody I cared about. Being a virgin is one of the things which prove that I’m in charge of my life, and it shows that I am powerful enough to make my own decisions about my mind and body.
After discussing all these issues with Mom, we agreed what we would like to do, but that we should also talk them over with Grandad and Uncle Robert, when we visited them for Thanksgiving this year.
Mom and I agreed that we would ask Dr Forrest to perform a hymenectomy on me, as she had suggested, where my cherry would be given a series of holes to weaken it, like a piece of perforated paper. I would then surrender my virginity to my lovely Mom, and she will be able to achieve a proper penetration with a strap-on dildo that would sucessfully take my cherry. I can't think of anyone I know who deserves it more.
We intend to ring Dr Forrest as soon as we get back from Grandad’s, in order to make the necessary arrangements for it to be done.
(:-)
“While Katie has a rather tough hymen,” commented Dr Forrest, “that has resisted all attempts so far to tear it, she is still reasonably expandable. How much can you take at the moment, little girl?”
Lowering my eyes, I responded, “Just my index finger, Miss, to full depth, and I have a small pink vibrator that I can squeeze in there without much discomfort.”
Dr Forrest pointed out that the areas of pressure never showed any serious discoloration, so there was little danger of a split developing. She also indicated how the edge of the aperture itself was resistant to injury, noting that this could lead to serious problems later in life, if I wanted to marry.
After the exam, she raised the matter of my virginity, which posed serious difficulty in performing some of the assessments that were part of my review. The dilation test for someone of my age was well below normal because of my intact hymen, and while she appreciated that I wanted to save my virginity for my husband, she urged me to consider my reasoning behind this decision, and also the past and current status of my love life.
Dr Forrest knew from numerous interviews that I was bisexual, and as the discussion had turned to a list of my past encounters, (I was going to say lovers, but no-one actually fitted this category, except one person), the doctor encouraged me to analyse the pros and cons of each one. While many of them had redeeming qualities, they all fell short in several of the important areas, which often was the cause of the relationship breaking down.
Mom and I were talking about it over the weekend, particularly how many boyfriends, and girl friends, I’d had over the years.
My first boyfriend, when I was 12, was James Rodwell from my class at school, and we would hang out with friends in the park down the road, or in the mall at the weekends, but the relationship only went as far as holding hands, or an arm round the shoulder. We hung out together for just over a year, but when we came back after summer break, he really got into studying, and we just drifted apart, seeing less and less of each other.
I was 16 years old when I got my next boyfriend, Gordon Palmer, and he was a real dish, good looking, clever, and very funny. He was on the football team at high school while I was on the swim team, and we’d often pass in the corridor outside the locker rooms when we were both at training. He invited me out with him, to go to the mall with a group of other kids from school, and we were together for a few months. I even invited him back to our house a couple of times, before Mom got home from work, but we went a bit too far one day, and I got into serious trouble over it from Mom.
I’d expected him to stand by me, and explain, but he just ran off and left me, then he broke up with me straight after.
Later that year I was complaining about guys in general, with the rest of the girls on our lunch table in the cafeteria, and when we went back towards classes, one of the girls, Emily Smith, walked with me, saying how much she agreed, and we became good friends. We went to each others houses after school to do our homework together, both our Moms worked till a couple of hours after school turned out, so we were company for each other. We ended up experimenting sexually, comparing our bodies, kissing, and touching, and having masturbation tutorials, which were great fun. Emily had really puffy nipples, which I thought were gorgeous, and she was fascinated with my cherry because she’d broken hers years ago while fingering her pussy. We were together for round about six months, but then we met another group of kids at the mall one Saturday, and both of us were attracted to a couple of the guys. We went around in a foursome most times, even when there might be a dozen kids in the group, we four always stuck together, and eventually Emily started a thing with Martin Price, and I spent more time with Dave Bennet. He was nice in most ways, attentive to what I wanted to do, but he was always pestering me to have sex, even though we had agreed that we’d not go any further than petting for a while. I’d seen how some of the girls at school would go wild with boys, and several of them had reputations, but I had no intention of behaving like that. Dave would ask me to go further every time we were playing with each other, I’d say no, and he’d say OK, then we carried on. In the end he dumped me for one of the cheerleaders, but I found out he had been dating her for about three weeks before he told me.
I was round at his house when he told me, and I was quite upset, but he just shrugged and went out to one of his buddy’s houses, leaving me there with just his sister Marilyn at home. She was really sympathetic with me because she didn’t have a very high opinion of her brother, and didn’t agree with him seeing the cheerleader, and me, at the same time, or the way he told me. She comforted me for a while, then gradually we got kissing each other, which she was really good at, then touching, and eventually we ended up in her bed. She had a great body, and we’d spend hours up in her room, trying on clothes and fixing our makeup, or just sitting around naked, which she loved to do, and so did I, which is probably one of the reasons we got on so well. Marilyn was fantastic at licking pussy which she taught me to do, and we’d do 69 nearly every time we met.
Marilyn went to the same school as me, but not the same classes, and we both got friendly with a girl that had just moved in to her class from out of state, Pamela Hall, inviting her back to my house or Marilyn’s, to make her feel at home. She enjoyed trying on clothes with us, and we did the same when we went over to her house, even having a sleepover a couple of times. When Marilyn found herself a boyfriend, we didn’t see as much of her, but Pamela and I used to hang around a lot, which she thought was absolutely great when she was round at mine, because Mom was so open about sex. Her parents were very straight, and she couldn’t talk to her Mom, other than the basic feminine hygiene stuff she needed to know, and what Pam said was an extremely embarassing chat on birth control where her Mom ended up in a flood of tears. We had a couple of sleepovers, where we had to wear PJ’s at her house, or a robe as well if we had a nightie on, but she loved sleeping over at my house because she could wear what she wanted. She had two gorgeous nighties that an Aunt bought her as presents, which were wonderfully sheer, came halfway up her thighs, and had tiny, cute frilly panties with them. Her Mom thought they were disgusting, and wouldn’t let her wear them outside her locked bedroom, not even with a robe to cover her up, so Pam was over the moon when I told her to bring them over. Not only did she get to wear them, but my Mom kept telling her how much better they made her look, soft and feminine, which Pam thought was wonderful. That night, Pam and I ended up in bed together, though we didn’t get much sleep, or any other night she stayed over after that, we just played most of the night. Pam wasn’t serious about our relationship though, it was just fun for her till she found the right man to marry, which she eventually did, but we saw each other on and off for a couple of years.
When I was 18, and in the graduation year at high school, I was dating Martin Price, who was a really nice guy, very friendly, polite, kind, and really observant of other people’s feelings, by far the best guy I’d ever known. Mom loved him, and he tried his best to make a good impression with her, even bringing her flowers when he picked me up a couple of times. We’d gone as far as petting on our dates, but neither of us wanted to rush into sex till we knew each other better, and we had loads of things to do, and talk about, without needing to jump into bed at every opportunity. We were just past graduation, and doing great together, when his parents moved over to California with his Dad’s employer, and he went with them because he wanted to go to one of the universities over there. We wrote to each other for a couple of months, but then he found a girlfriend over there, so we parted on the best of terms, and just exchange christmas cards now.
When I went to college I got involved with a girl in my General Studies class, Vanessa Butler, who was a profound activist, and wanted to change everything, but she was really friendly with everyone she met, and so funny in conversation. Vanessa was totally gay, and extremely proud of it, so when she found out that I was bisexual, she invited me out on a date, and we were together for a over two months. We eventually parted because she just couldn’t leave things as they were, everything had to be changed to something else. She decorated her apartment three times in about as many months, and when we were together,she wanted to change my wardrobe, my hair, my makeup, and not just a little bit, but drastic changes. The one thing she did like was my smooth pussy, because she’d not had many girlfriends that were hairless, and most of them had refused her suggestions that they shave everything off. Mind you, I refused point blank to shave my head when Vanessa wanted to take me to her stylist, not that I understood what you can make out of a bald head. What really put an end to us though, was a friend of hers who worked at a Body Piercing studio a couple of blocks away from college. I’d agreed to have my navel pierced because it was something I’d always found looked pretty on the women I’d seen who’d had it done, but as usual, Vanessa wanted to go over the top. She wanted me to pierce my nipples, multiple times, both sets of pussy lips, my clitoral hood, and the clit itself, then to have some tattoos done, but I said I wasn’t ready for so much just yet. What I did relent to, was to let her decorate my body with marker pens, as long as they washed off, and her designs didn’t show outside of my normal clothes. She was happy with that for a while, and to be honest, some of them I quite liked, usually the small, neat ones, my favorites being a black cat on my pubic mound, and a pair of joined red cherries right at the top of my slit. My Mom’s favorite was when Vanessa had written “Pussy Slut” across my hairless mound in black script, but she’d got a permanent marker instead of the usualwashable ones, so I had it for nearly a week. I’d kicked up a fuss about that, on principle, but I actually liked it because it was very neat work, and the sentiment actually turned me on. I would never have it done for real though, because it’s too permanent, and in a few years I could get tired of it, or not like it anymore. Vanessa wouldn’t let it lie though, she just went on and on, every time we met, so in the end I finished with her.
During my second year at college I dated about half a dozen guys, some from college, some that I met elsewhere, but while they all presented very well when they were making the effort, it didn’t take to long to get to know them, and discover their failings. Some of these were quite serious, but one of the advantages of studying for a ParaLegal degree is that you learn how to investigate things properly, and you have access to some cool systems.
My best relationship was with Susan Blanchard, who was on the Phys Ed course, and I met down at the college pool. We used to swim together, finish about the same time, then shower and change, so if there was time, we’d go have a coffee afterwards. Sue had really long hair, and she used to ask me to help her wash it, especially to make sure all the shampoo was rinsed out of it afterwards, and since we were both naked, there began to be a lot of sensual touching. We seemed to get on really well together, and thoroughly enjoyed our time together for nearly a year, but then, out of the blue, she said she didn’t want to see me anymore. I saw in the corridor a couple of times, and she’d give a polite hello, but never stop to talk, she never turned up at the pool again while I was there, and she never answered any of my phone messages. I found out from one of the counsellors at college, as we were chatting in the cafeteria, that Sue had met a guy at her church who was a good friend of the family, well his parents were, and they were going to get married the next year. Apparently his Dad was something big in finance in the city, and had loads of money, so the counsellor thought this may be one of the reasons. I was a bit upset that Sue haddn’t explained this to me herself, but that itself showed that she wasn’t concerned about me.
My last girlfriend had been nearly a year ago, Tracy Moran, who I’d met on one of the internships I’d done at college, and we’d been out together about once a week for a couple of months. Most of our conversations were pretty much day to day stuff, girl talk really, and she’s quite a few years older than me, but she’d invited me back to her place on the first date, and we’d had fantastic sex together. We’d dressed up, role played, done a bit of bondage and spanking, taking turns to Domme, and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, but at the end of the day Tracy was just after a bit of fun with a younger girl like myself. This lasted for a few months, then she said she wasn’t bothered anymore, and she’d found a new playmate, even younger than me. I wasn’t that bothered really, because we’d never actually got to know each other, it was just sex, so we agreed to move on.
When Mom and I talked over all of these boyfriends and girlfriends, the only relationship I’d had in all this time that meant anything to me, the only person who genuinely cared about me, and my own needs, was my Mom. Not only that, but I felt exactly the same about her. Apart from the fact that we were related, we were the perfect couple, loving, caring, willing to put the others wellbeing and happiness before our own interests. Neither of us had a partner, and we already lived together. Having an incestuous sexual relationship wouldn’t present the usual inbreeding problems, since we were unlikely to have any children between us, and we already had sex with each other, just on an occasional basis. We were both bisexual, with a strong preference for girls, we shared many of the same interests in erotica, and porn, and were both submissive. We discussed this last point at some length because both Mom and Dad had been submissives when they married, and it hadn’t worked out for them. Dad had left after six years, but he’d really struggled during that time, and while Mom had willingly Dommed him when he needed it, he was never comfortable doing the same for her, in fact he seemed to resent her. Finally we came to the decision that Dad had got married because his sister, my Aunt Adele, had told him to, not because he loved Mom. Fond of her yes, but not love. Once he’d lost Aunt Adele’s control, he couldn’t cope on his own, and he knew that Mom wasn’t really a Domme, so he went looking elsewhere, and found his secretary, who he’d happily run off with to the other side of the country, for all we knew. The relationship between Mom and I was much stronger than that, and we were confident that it would survive the test of time. We also knew that if either of us should meet someone else we grew to love, then we would be happy to let the other one go, because we would still have our family bond.
We have looked into the restrictions on lesbian incest, and it appears that New Jersey, where my Grandad lives, does not apply any penalties for incest when both parties are 18 years of age or older.
In all states, close blood-relatives that fall under the incest statutes include father, mother, grandfather, grandmother, brother, sister, aunt, uncle, niece, nephew, and in some states, first cousins. Many states also apply incest laws to non-blood relations including stepparents, step-siblings, and in-laws
So what happens in Florida ?
Statute 826.04 Incest. ---
Whoever knowingly marries or has sexual intercourse with a person to whom he is related by lineal consanguinity, or a brother, sister, uncle, aunt, nephew, or niece, commits incest, which constitutes a felony of the third degree, punishable as provided in s. 775.082, s. 775.083, or s. 775.084. "Sexual intercourse" is the penetration of the female sex organ by the male sex organ, however slight; emission of semen is not required.
Our conclusion is that since there is no penetration by a male sex organ, lesbian relationships between close family cannot be considered incest.
Virginity is considered important by many people, myself included, because it is a one time only gift that a girl can give to whoever she chooses. Many people think it is only for a husband, and while this may not always be the case, I believe it is important that it is given to someone you love, and deeply care for, not wasted frivolously.
There are different attitudes as to wether someone is a virgin or not, today there is a lot of peer pressure to lose your virginity, and be like the rest of the group, but it’s what matters to me that is the most important thing, not other people’s opinions. If they are true friends they won’t care if I’m a virgin or not, they will respect my decisions, no matter what they are. If I decide to put off sex, then it’s OK, no matter what anyone says, and I’ve had quite a few disparaging comments through high school, and college, but not from anybody I cared about. Being a virgin is one of the things which prove that I’m in charge of my life, and it shows that I am powerful enough to make my own decisions about my mind and body.
After discussing all these issues with Mom, we agreed what we would like to do, but that we should also talk them over with Grandad and Uncle Robert, when we visited them for Thanksgiving this year.
Mom and I agreed that we would ask Dr Forrest to perform a hymenectomy on me, as she had suggested, where my cherry would be given a series of holes to weaken it, like a piece of perforated paper. I would then surrender my virginity to my lovely Mom, and she will be able to achieve a proper penetration with a strap-on dildo that would sucessfully take my cherry. I can't think of anyone I know who deserves it more.
We intend to ring Dr Forrest as soon as we get back from Grandad’s, in order to make the necessary arrangements for it to be done.
(:-)
Saturday 6 November 2010
Doctors Visit 8 - Overnight
Introduction -
A few weeks after my 21st birthday I received a call from my MD's office to make an appointment for a special checkup, and the receptionist organised it to coincide with the end of the next period when I would be available.
I was going to write a quick account of my visit, but so much happened during the day that I decided to try and record it all, both for my own benefit in times to come, and also for anyone else that might read my story, and perhaps enjoy it. What I have done, is split it up into multiple posts, or it would be much too long as a single narrative. Then I have linked them together so I can navigate to all the different parts of the account.
Please try and read them in order, it will make your experience much more enjoyable.
Initial Obs – posted here
Lactation Test – posted here
Student Training – posted here
Dilation Test – posted here
Extension Test – posted here
Compression Test – posted here
Farrel Drawings – posted here
Overnight (this post)– posted here
********************************
Overnight
Dr Forrest informed me that I was going to be kept overnight. I knew they had a small inpatient ward on the premises, but had never expected that I would have to make use of it.
The doctor explained that she wanted to do some more work on my lactation, with more frequent milkings, and she needed me on the premises so they would have access at the correct times. Nurse Sandra wheeled the breast pump over, hooked me up to it, then set it going at quite a low suction, till the flow had started. I was stood against the examination table, resting my butt against the side restraints, which she had raised earlier, enjoying the sensations as the milk was drawn through my nipples, and the suction cups squeezed my breasts. Dr Forrest said she wanted me to phone my Mom in a few minutes, so that I could explain about the overnight stay, but there were a few things that needed setting up before I talked with her. The nurse said that she wanted me seated for a while, and brought over a stool that had a dildo mounted on the seat, much like the cushion that I have at home, and she said it was to stop me from wriggling about. Obediently I spread my legs, then lowered myself slowly as she located the tapered end of the fake cock against my anus, the already applied lubricant feeling slick against my butt. Coming round to the front, she placed her hands at the top of my thighs, pressing down slowly as the dildo eased into me, pushing harder once entrance had been made, until I was fully impaled on the stool. Taking my hand, she stretched it out along the side bars, then tied me at wrist, elbow, and upper arm ,repeating it in the other side so that I was completely immobile. Just to make sure, she passed a rope around my waist, tied it to the bed frame, then cinched it really tight, till I was nearly cut in two. Kneeling down, the nurse next firmly secured my ankles to the stool, so now there really was no way I could go anywhere.
Dr Forrest rang my home, spoke with Mom for a moment to reassure her, complimenting her on how well behaved I’d been, then positioned the handset for me while I read from a sheet of paper she was holding in front of me. It was quite comical really, as I told Mom, “I’m tied up with some tests I can’t get out of”, then when she asked what time I’d be home, I replied, “Sorry, but I’m stuck here, Dr Forrest won’t allow me to leave until morning.”
Mom said “That is a shame dear, but I’m positive that the doctor will take very good care of you.” The she added, “Are you being a good girl, Katie?”
I picked up on the key phrase, and responded properly, “Oh yes Mommy, I’m going to be a very good girl for Dr Forrest, and I’ve promised to do everything that she tells me to.”
“Very well, sweetheart,” she replied, “you have a nice night, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
At least Mom wouldn’t worry about me now, she knew that I was safe, and being looked after. Whenever I couldn’t get home as expected, I would always phone and tell her where I was, and when I would be back, though not necessarily what I was doing,. Mom would also do the same if she was delayed somewhere, or had gone out unexpectedly, and the conversation would always have a challenge and response section. One of us would ask a coded question, and the other person would give a particular, non-specific reply to indicate that they were OK, or a different reply if there was something wrong, then help would be on its way.
When we’d said goodbye, Dr Forrest put the phone down, then turned to the task in hand, milking my titties till they were dry. She turned up the suction, sprayed the Oxytocin on my pulse spots again, then massaged my breast, asking Nurse Sandra to massage the other one. The stimulation of the spray, and their hands, soon had my milk flow increasing to twice what it had been earlier in the afternoon, but when the doctor reached between my thighs to rub my clitoris, it grew even more.
Each time the pump sucked at my nipple I could feel my breast tingle as the muscles forced out my milk, a sensation mirrored by contractions inside my cunny. With the additional rubbing my clit was getting from the doctor I was soon cumming, and I could see why the nurse had sat me on a dildo stool, as it prevented me from thrusting my hips with each wave of pleasure that washed over me, keeping me firmly in place. Finally my nipples stopped leaking milk, my breasts now fully drained, and the doctor removed the suction cups, telling me I had done very well in producing so much, this early in my lactation. When Dr Forrest left the room, Nurse Sandra said she would go and arrange my bed for the night, but before she left, she fitted a pair of long, slim tubes to the breast pump, and attached them to my nipples. With the pump on a low suction my teats were slowly drawn into each tube, then the nurse left me alone while she went upstairs to the ward. When she went out, she left the door open, and once more I was put on display to the waiting area, through my reflection in the large wall mirror.
There were only a few people still waiting to be seen, but I eventually saw each of them look in my direction, then repeatedly look back again as I remained in the same exposed position. After about fifteen minutes a young woman got up from one of the seats, and walked down the corridor, leading a young girl of about 10 years old by the hand. I assumed that she was taking her daughter down to the restroom, but as she reached the open door, she turned in, and brought the girl to stand in front of me. She asked me if it was OK for her daughter to have a look, as she’d brought her in today so she could join one of the research programs that the doctors were running, and she thought I might also be on one of them. Smiling, I told the woman it was perfectly fine, I’d be glad to help them, especially as she was quite correct in that I was part of a research project, one run by Dr Forrest.
The lady introduced herself as Claire, and her lovely daughter Sophie, who was 10 years old only last week. The young girl dipped a quick curtsey, then said “Thank you very much, Ma’am, may I ask what they are doing to you?” She was so sweet, and I loved being addressed as Ma’am by her, so I explained that I was producing milk in my breasts, and the doctor was draining it off for me, so that I didn’t get too swollen. She told me that she was going to be on a research project as well, and I could tell that she was really proud to be part of it, her face just beamed. I commended her, adding that she would probably find it a lot of fun, just as I had since I’d joined. That was when I was just turned twelve, and a little more developed than she was, but she was lucky because she would have results right from the begining of her development, wheras I had missed the start. That obviously pleased the young girl, because her face lit up, her smile widened even more, and she turned round, saying, “You were right Mommy, this lady says I’m the right age to join as well. Thank you.” Turning back to me, she continued, “Excuse me Ma’am, but may I ask if those tubes hurt you? It’s just that they look really uncomfortable.” Her Mom looked a bit worried, perhaps over what I might answer, but as I’d no idea how much the young girl actually knew about the project, I just replied truthfully, “No, sweetheart, they don’t hurt at the moment, in fact, it’s feels much better now that I have been milked.” That seemed to satisfy her immediate curiosity, so I added, “Most of the time it’s lots of fun seeing the doctor, especially because you’re not actually feeling poorly, so you can enjoy it. Although sometimes, I must admit, you are right, it does get a bit uncomfortable, but big girls like you and I have to be very brave.” I leaned forward, and whispered to her, but still loud enough for her Mom to hear, “When I was a really good girl, the doctor had a candy jar that I could choose from, and sometimes my Mommy would take me shopping after for a nice present as well.”
Sophie looked so sweet as she hugged herself, the most radiant smile I’ve ever seen lighting up her little face. Claire thanked me for my time, then excused them both, saying Sophie had better get to the restroom now, which was where they’d been heading for originally. “Before we go,” Claire said, “would it be alright if I gave you my number, only I would really appreciate talking to you about the program sometime. Sophie seems to like you, and I’m sure it would also help to reassure her.”
I told her I’d be morethan happy to help, and would call her next week, but just at the moment I was rather short of pockets, but she could leave her number on the doctor’s desk, and I’d pick it up later.
As they left the room, Sophie turned and said, “Thank you very much,” then nearly bumped into Nurse Sandra, who was just returning from the ward. I explained to the nurse about my visitors, and asked her to put Claire’s number in my purse for me, which she did, locking the desk drawer again afterwards. It looked like I wouldn’t be getting my clothes back just yet.
Switching off the breast pump, Nurse Sandra locked off the tubes on my nipples, leaving them still attached by the suction inside them, then removed the tubing. I couldn’t help thinking about the video link that Uncle Robert had sent me earlier, grateful at least that they hadn’t fisted me as well. My arms were untied, and I was ordered to lift myself off the dildo that was attached to the stool, then bend over so the nurse could check the dilation of my anus. When she was satisfied, I was made to clasp my arms behind me, then Nurse Sandra took my elbow, and led me to the ward, but we took the route through reception, stopping by the desk for a few moments, which kept my naked body on display to those few patients still waiting. We continued on to the stairs, climbing up to the small middle landing, where we passed an orderly, a nice young man of about 25 I would guess, who Nurse Sandra called back when he’d gone a few steps past us. He turned back to face us while the nurse asked him to tidy up in the examination room we had just left, so from his position below us he had a perfect view up between my legs. Nurse Sandra still had hold of my elbow, and she now moved me back just a small distance, which made me step off the landing, and onto the top stair, but only with my right foot. Since my left foot was still on the higher landing, my thighs were spread apart, and I moved my upper knee further out to more fully expose my bald pussy and girlcleft to the young man. He never took his eyes from between my legs the whole time he was talking to the nurse, and I’d like to bet he didn’t get half of what she said.
We continued on up the stairs, down a short corridor, and into the 3 bed ward, which was empty, although all the beds were made up. I was taken to the middle one, told to climb in, but to remain sat up, with the covers folded back so that my breasts were uncovered, and on display. The nurse said she would send housekeeping up in a few moments, to take my evening meal order, and in the meantime there were some magazines on the bedside table for me to read. When I browsed through them, I assumed they must have been specially selected for myself, as I didn’t think regular patients would be put at ease by the selection. There was a brochure for the Medical Centre, which looked like part of a group as it said not all the services were offered, but to contact your MD or reception for more information. The title said this was for Additional Services 2, so there is probably another brochure for the normal services, anyway, they detailed some of the procedures Dr Forrest had put me through today, stretching, dilation, and such, but a whole lot more severe ones as well. I was just glad they weren’t part of my program. Some of the other magazines were Fetish, BDSM, and a very strong Lesbian theme, all very exciting reading material, I thought, and I soon had my hand beneath the covers, between my legs. I’d just closed my eyes for a few moments to savour one exceptionally beautiful picture of two girls in a lesbian embrace, and when I opened them, a young lady from the housekeeping staff was stood beside me. When I apologised, she told me to continue, and folded the covers back so she could watch me masturbate more easily, even pushing my knees apart. I was so sexually excited that my nipples were beginning to leak, and the tubes began to come loose, so the lady took some gauze pads from the table to mop my milk up, rubbing my teats quite strongly, then squeezing and pulling on them as I rubbed my wet pussy slit. It only took a few moments for me to climax, and she kept up her attention to my nipples the whole time. When I had calmed down, she instructed me to remain uncovered while she took my order from a very nice menu selection, then asked if I’d tried the TV yet, showing me how the remote switched on the regular channels, and also the in-house media selection. Most of this selection could be classified as porn, but when I channel hopped I found it was all very stimulating, though a few of the programs were too strong for my particular taste. There were a few documentary type programs in there as well, which I found really interesting as they explained several of the research projects that were being run at this clinic, and how they were part of a nationwide medical group. I hadn’t realised just how extensive the overall program was, although I’d always known there were a lot of other subjects in my development set, it seemed it was far wider than I’d ever considered. Several sections of the documentary had actual footage showing the examinations that the patients were undergoing, with very detailed close views of their most private places being probed, stretched, and squeezed. I soon realised that a lot of the subjects were far more developed than I was, and I enjoyed watching the comparison sequences that showed young, undeveloped girls joining the project, then the changes at each milestone review.
My meal arrived during the show, and I was pleased to discover that I could pause the film while I ate, then continue afterwards. Housekeeping set the small table on the other side of the room, then she called me over, but before I was seated she checked my notes. She took a quite large dildo, and a smaller one, from a cabinet, fastened them to the seat of my chair with suction cups, then held the chair while I lowered myself onto them. I sometimes used my own toys like this at home, but I had never done it with an audience, or with a dildo in both holes. I must admit, it made mealtime very enjoyable, and every time I leaned forward to take a mouthful of food I could feel the shafts move inside my body. The front one in particular was really noticeable, because although it looked small compared the anal intruder, it was in fact quite a lot wider than I was used to, so I my cunny was considerably stretched.
When I’d finished my meal, I remained seated, enjoying the feeling of fullness, and not just in my tummy, occasionally rocking back and forth, or raising my bottom slightly from the seat, then just dropping back down again. After a short while, a nurse came into the room, not Sandra, but a much younger girl, probably not even as old as myself. She moved the dishes to the far side of the table, brought over a breast pump, and set it up to empty my milk, which was just beginning to get a little uncomfortable. She kept the pressure quite low for a while, producing only a few drops from each teat, but when she sprayed the Oxytocin on my wrists and neck, within minutes I could feel both my breast twitching inside. Soon the feelings spread down towards my nipples, which grew warmer, till milk began to spray from them into the collection chambers. The young nurse now turned up both the suction and the pulse rate as my flow increased, stepping it up every few minutes, then she told me to spread my knees apart, reached forward, and started to rub my wet girlcleft. When her fingers stroked my clitoris, pushing up my sexual excitement, she pointed out the corresponding increased flow of my breast milk, telling me that I should make sure that I played with myself whenever I was milked, or got someone else to do it for me. Hooking her finger in the top of my slit, she pulled hard upward, ordering me to work the dildoes, so I obediently started to rise and fall on them. Following her directions to lift slowly so that I could feel the shafts draw out along the full length, then drop my full weight onto them for the downward stroke, as if I was being rammed by a vigourous lover, I soon reached my climax. I was kept on the breast pump for twenty minutes, till my titties were fully drained, then the nurse swapped the cups for two narrow tubes, turning up the suction so my nipples were stretched right inside them. She then took two pieces of red satin ribbon from her pocket, and tied them tightly round the end of each breast, just behind the suction tubes, finishing them off with a large bow. When she removed the tubes, it just left my titties adorned with the satin bows, and fat nipples sticking right out at the centre of them. She had me lift off the chair, and stand in front of a mirror to admire the effect, which looked cute, but very sexy as well. I was then ordered to get back into bed, where I could read, watch TV, or take a nap if I wanted, but I had to leave the covers down so that my naked body remained fully exposed to whoever came into the room. I sat up and watched the rest of the research documntary, enjoying my naked exhibition as several people waked past the door, and paused to look in as well, till housekeeping arrived to clear the table. I chatted with her for a while, sending my compliments to the chef, then she removed the satin ribbons from my teats, saying it was a shame really as they looked quite beautiful with them on. My nipples had become quite painful, especially if rubbed against them, but when she removed the ribbons, the blood now rushed back into them, and they hurt even more. When she left, I lay back on the pillows, and very quickly fell asleep, as it had been a very busy, tiring day, but I had enjoyed every minute of it.
I slept for a couple of hours, then the nurse woke me to take my obs, for which she had me lay down on top of the covers, with my feet placed at the corners of the bed to spread my legs so that my cunny was on display. When she had recorded my measurements, I was taken over to the table where the breast pump was still set up, waiting while she placed two more dildoes on the chair seat, then settling myself down on them. They seemed larger than before, and I had to work myself up and down a few times until I was fully penetrated, and I felt completely stuffed. The nurse attached the suction cups to my breasts, and once more drained every drop of milk from me, with the help of the spray, and a very nice pussy rub. She complimented me on being so co-operative, and told me I was now producing nearly 4 ounces, which was very good for a young girl on her first day, but she felt sure I could be made to give much more milk by the time I was allowed home.
While I was being milked, one of the janitors had brought my clothes up from Dr Forrest’s office, and while he had put most of them in a basket to carry them, he was holding my bra and panties in his hand, and rubbing his thumb across the inside of the gusset. Rather than put the basket down on a chair, or put the clothes away in a drawer, he took each item out of the basket, and laid it carefully across the bed next to mine. He arranged them neatly, bottom of the skirt just draped over the edge, but with the hem turned back as if it had ben lifted to display what was underneath. My blouse laid above it, front edges touching, but not buttoned, the lower corners folded open as if displaying my tummy, and the neckline spread so it would highlight my cleavage. My suspender belt and stockings were arranged next to the skirt and blouse, as if I’d just been removed from them. Finally my bra and panties on the next apparent row, lined up in their correct poition, but the top, lace edges of the bra cups turned backwards, and the crotch of my panties twisted round to display the juice stained gusset for eveyone to see. The janitor looked about 50 years old, with a handsome, friendly face, but he must have worked in the fashion business before, judging from the way he’d just displayed all my clothing in such a sensuous manner. I often lay my clothes out similar to that in the morning before I get dressed, just to make sure the ensemble goes together properly, but the janitor had made some nice, subtle touches that enhanced the display into a sexual exhibition.
When the nurse had detached me from my milking machine, I was instructed to put my shoes on, black high heels that accentuated my calves, then clasp my hands behind me. Taking my elbow, she led me out of the room, then it seemed we walked right through the whole building to the far side, where she took a bottle from a store cupboard, then we returned by a different route to the corridor where the ward was located. I couldn’t see why she’d taken me with her, instead of leaving me in my room, other than on our travels we had met at least a dozen people, cleaners, janitors, nursing staff, and even a pizza delivery guy when we were passing the rear entrance. The nurse seemed to know them all, stopping to exchange a few words with everyone we met, but never once did anyone comment on her having a completely nude girl along with her. That didn’t mean I wasn’t noticed, as all of them took the opportunity to look my nakedness up and down, and sometimes the nurse even turned me round, showing my butt to them for several seconds before we walked off. It was quite a turn on to be exhibited in this manner, and I could feel my girl juice wetting my slit, the lips sliding against each other as I walked along the corridors. When we arrived back near the ward, I was taken into a small treatment room that had a toilet and shower stall in there as well, and ordered to relieve myself while the nurse watched. Without being allowed to wipe myself, the nurse made me stand in the shower with my feet apart while she slipped her fingers between my legs, gathering the ample juice that was there, and licking it from her fingers. She did this several times before saying she’d better get me cleaned up, then turned on the shower after I’d removed my heels, watching as I wet my body. The bottle that we’d been so far to bring back, was apparently shower gel, and I had to stand at the stall entrance while she rubbed the soap into my wet skin, working up a lather as she rubbed her hands all over me. Special attention was paid to my breasts, pussy, and my bottom, even having to bend over while soapy fingers were worked in and out of both holes, then rinsed clean. When I’d been thoroughly cleaned, the nurse even dried me with a big, fluffy towel, patting my damp flesh gently, all over, then rubbing more and more vigorously, till I had to brace myself up against the wall. At last I was done, slipped my shoes on, and walked the short distance back to the ward, climbing into bed when instructed. The nurse told me I was free to read, watch TV, or sleep, but as before, I was to remain uncovered. Also, I was to leave my clothes where they were, fully displayed on the bed, in case any of the night staff happened to come by, and of course I was to be compliant with them, as I had been all day. The nurse left me then, and I read the lesbian magazines for a while, but half an hour later an older woman walked into the ward, and said she needed to turn me over as part of the skin care management regieme. Obediently I turned onto my tummy, letting her adjust my arms and legs, then she massaged some cool lotion all over my back, and especially my bottom. It was just like having a beauty treatment, though she did spend a long time on my butt, then she spread my legs really wide apart, working on the inside of my thighs, right up to my bald cunny, and even massaging my girlcleft. I was instructed to stay in position while she went to fetch something, so I just lay there on the bed, naked, open, and exposed. After a few minutes, one of the cleaners came in, and I could feel my cunny tighten up at the thought that he could see all my most private places. After dusting round for a while he looked at my chart, then came round to the side of my bed, but because my head was turned to the other side, I couldn’t see him, so I started to face the other way. He put his hand on my shoulder, pressing me down, and ordered me to stay as I was, so of course I returned to my original postion, wondering what he was going to do, since I was openly accessible to him. I could hear him moving round, then he came to my side and crouched down to dust the bedframe, but in this position he was looking straight at my face so I smiled at him, and he smiled back. He moved further down the bed, never once looking at his dusting, but keeping his eys on my unclothed body, studdying the side of my breast where it was squashed beneath me, then at my butt. He now moved out of my vision, but I obediently stayed as I was, imagining what he was looking at, till I felt his weight press on the bottom of the mattress, then I knew he was looking directly up between my thighs, right at my exposed cunny. My slit bagan to tingle, being blatantly watched like this, and I could feel my petals become engorged, peeling apart to reveal my erect clit as it peeked out from its protective hood. I felt him brush against my upper thigh, on the other side, where I couldn’t see him, then his fingers gently grasped each fleshy outer sex lip and slowly eased them further apart, then further, and even further still. I felt his breath as he blew right down my wet cleft, and I couldn’t repress the moan that escaped from my lips. His quiet chuckle told me he knew I was aroused, so I compliantly laid still as he released my sex, then moments later pressed against the entrance. At the first touch I thought it was his finger, but realised it was cold, and slippery, as if it had been covered in body lotion. He worked the rounded end against my love hole, then gently positioned it on centre, pressing harder till it stretched my cherry open, then seemed to almost pop inside me. Once more I could feel him rub against the entrance to my cunny, pause, press harder again, then another inaudible pop, but now I could feel him actually inside me. With that slightly filled sensation still present, another touch to my slit, another push, and I now realised what he was doing to me as I lay naked and helpless on my bed. On my bedside was a fruit bowl, and this man was inserting grapes into my pussy, one by one, most likely covered in the lotion that had been used during my massage, to make them slip in easier. Several more grapes were pushed deep inside me, each one making me more aroused till an orgasm washed through my body, leaving me trembling before this man’s avid gaze. As I lay quietly recovering, I felt something warm land on my butt, his sperm, as he masturbated to my lascivious display, then another shot on my lower back, and a third at the top of my thigh, just on the crease. He leaned over to whisper “Thank You” in my ear, then he quietly left, without a backward glance. As I lay there, even more turned on than ever, I could feel the sperm on my bottom, now cooling, begin to slide down into my crease, then the one on my thigh also fall prey to gravity as it slid inwards, along my groin, then across my hairless mound. While one loaded coated my cunny, the sperm on my bottom worked its way down my ass groove, pooling on my anus, which I flexed to get it fully coated, but there was too much for that tiny indent to hold, so it traveled on, running the full length of my pulsing slit, triggering another orgasm.
When the massage lady returned, she apologised for taking so long, but when she reached the side of the bed I could hear her tutting, then say, “Well dear, it looks like you weren’t lonely while I was away. Cleaner?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” I confirmed.
“I don’t know why they call them cleaners,” she complained, “they always leave things messy.” Taking some wipes, she cleaned the sperm from my back, and bottom cheeks, then along my crease as far as my anus, where she stopped, and pulled my cunny hole apart with her thumbs. “Well now, little lady, what have you got wedged in here,” she enquired, wriggling her finger through my hymen to poke the object protruding from my entrance.
“I couldn’t see, Ma’am,” I replied, “but I think they might be grapes, about ten of them.”
“Ah, well, that would be Vincent,” she explained, “cute little trick of his. Did you enjoy it Katie.”
“Oh yes Ma’am, I came twice. Especially when I didn’t know what he was doing to me.”
“I suppose I could get the nurse to take a look at them,” the lady said, “but you may have to wait for Dr Forrest in the morning. Still, I’ll get you cleaned up anyway.”
She continued wiping me, making me wriggle like mad as she rubbed down my slit, and across my sensitive clit. She slapped my bottom, and told me to keep still, but that only made me moan even more, and I still twitched about as she finished cleaning me up. When she was done, she had me lift my hips so she could put a pillow under me, then spanked my bottom with her hand, till my cheeks were glowing red, and burning hot. She said she was finished now, but ordered me to remain where I was, laid on my tummy, and to behave myself, or I’d get another spanking.
Going to bottom of the bed, she wrote something on my chart, then came and kissed my cheek before she left.
I managed to sleep for a couple of hours, but when the nurse came and woke me for my obs, and my next milking session, my breasts were aching from being squashed beneath me, but I wasn’t allowed to turn over just yet. The nurse told me to stay in position while she cleaned me up, which is when I noticed that my bottom was cold and sticky again, then she used several wipes to remove the sperm that had been ejaculated over my sleeping form. At first I was annoyed that someone had used me just to jerk off to, and told the nurse just what I thought of whoever it was, but then I was annoyed because I’d actually missed out on the enjoyment of being humiliated in that way. As I got chance to realise what must have been going on while I slept, the thought of a steady stream of male employees going in and out of my room, jerking off till they shot their load of hot spunk all over my back turned me on so much that I almost climaxed. I was turned over, and hooked up to the breast pump again, the suction turned on, so my milk started draining, then the nurse sprayed my pulse spots with Oxytocin, and almost immediately my let down reflex started pumping milk to my teats. The nurse sat on the side of my bed while I was milked, stroking my clit as she chatted about what my impressions of the ward were, now that I’d been here a few hours. I told her it wasn’t what I’d expected it to be, just laying about inbetween milkings, but I had really enjoyed being led round the building naked, having my body displayed to so many strangers who had no business seeing me in that state of undress. Also there were so many of the staff who seemed to find a valid reason to be working in my room while I was exposed to them in the nude, and they all treated me as if I were their personal plaything, though to be honest, I did rather enjoy that. The nurse explained that some of the house practices, especially on the night shift, promoted that sort of behaviour, and she would show me the reasons when I was finished up being milked. She had managed to extract nearly five ounces of milk from my titties this time, which she said was excellent work, and I deserved a prize for being such a good little dairy maid.
When I’d been released from the machine, I was instructed to put my high heels back on, then stand with my arms folded in my back, which I was beginning to realise was the regular stance for me this evening. The nurse took me to the end of the bed, and showed me my chart, which was hung on the footboard, pointing out my name, the summary of what Dr Forrest had done to me during the day, and the comment – Control Group – Full Access – Small Vaginal Inserts Only. I was told that every time someone came in to a patient’s room, they would check the charts to find out if anything more needed doing with them, and if there were any restrictions.
Control Group meant that I was submissive, or at least compliant to instructions.
Free Access indicated no body areas were out of bounds, either outside, or inside the patient’s body.
Small Vaginal Inserts Only was to let people know of any restrictions, in this case, because I was a virgin, I was not to be stretched so far that it would damage my hymen.
In the section below were my actual observations, pulse, blood pressure, etc. and the nurse brought my attention to several other rows where each staff member recorded their name, and the treatment given me. Surprisingly, there were 12 entries for ejaculate salve, which the nurse said was the spunk that had been shot on my back, and another line said vag insert – 10 grapes, so I explained that this was the cleaner pushing grapes inside me. She smiled at this and asked if I’d liked it, to which I said I definitely had. Taking my elbow again, the nurse led me through the building, which was so much quieter now that the day’s activity was over, though there were still quite a lot of maintenance staff and cleaners about. We eventually ended up in the basement, in front of a notice board, where the nurse pointed out a list to me. It was headed, “Availability”, and there were four names on there, two of them were ladies, noted as being cleaners, one was a male data processor, and the fourth name was mine, listed as a patient, along with my room and bed number. The nurse explained that this was one of the perks of working the night shift, there was often free time, and several of the staff made themselves sexually available, as well as suitable patients who were on several research projects. That’s why I’d had so many visitors, because my name was on the board, and even when I was sleeping, I was still used to masturbate over. I could feel my cunny juicing up at the thought of everyone in the building knowing that I was available as a sex toy for their personal pleasure.
We returned to the ward, and the nurse told me to get some sleep while I could, and she’d see me in three hours for another milking session.
She came back three more times through the night, hooking me up to the breast pump to drain my titties, usually seated on the chair with the dildoes attached, and often there was one or two of the other staff visiting as well. They would play with my hairless cunny, to stimulate me so my milk flow would increase, and the men would shoot their spunk on me as they watched. The ladies would stand beside me so that I could finger their pussy, and sometimes climb onto the table to allow me to lick them as well. Before I went back to bed I would be cleaned up, but I always woke up with some sperm on my body somewhere, from my other, unknown visitors.
In the morning, Dr Forrest came round to see me, asking if I’d had a good night, to which I replied that it had been tiring, but a great deal of fun. She checked my chart, smiling at just how much fun was recorded there, then she had me kneel up on the bed, on all fours, while she used a pair of long tweezers to remove the grapes that had been stuffed in my cunny. She watched as I put on my garter belt and stockings, high heels, skirt, and blouse, but was not allowed my underwear as she said they had no clean ones for me, so I would have to go home without any, naked beneath my outer clothes.
I was given a list of things to do over the following week, including being milked at least four times a day, and instructions to have a discussion with my Mom concerning my cherry.
She gave me a precription for a much stronger suction pump than I currently had at home, so that I could also enlarge of my nipples, clitoris, and labia, when my milking had finished. Along with the prescription was an information sheet for the recommended frequency and intensity to be used with the pump, as well as the address of a shop where I could get the prescription filled.
My task list also included her reccomendation that I get a series of body piercings, with a minimum of one horizontal piercing through each nipple, and a vertical piercing through my clitoral hood. Both of these would, she said, vastly increase my most basic orgasm, and also provide increased sensations just from wearing normal clothing. She’d added the address of a body studio who would make sure I received special service just by mentioning her name.
The final thing she gave me was a recommendation to her friend who had made the corset I’d worn the day before, with a view to becoming a part time model for him to test his new designs on. While I was under no obligation to enter into a permanent arrangement with him, Dr Forrest said that she would expect me to have at least two sessions at his studio, and that I should be a good girl for him.
I was told to phone in after the week was up, and talk over with Dr Forrest if I wanted to take her up on any of the treatments she had offered me. She stood up then and showed me to the door, giving me a kiss goodbye, while she put her hand beneath my skirt, rubbing my clit, then said she looked forward to seeing me again soon.
** That's all for now, but the story continues in further posts ....
Initial Obs – posted here
Lactation Test – posted here
Student Training – posted here
Dilation Test – posted here
Extension Test – posted here
Compression Test – posted here
Farrel Drawings – posted here
Overnight (this post)– posted here
Please try and read them in order, it will make your experience much more enjoyable.
hugs from Katie
:)
A few weeks after my 21st birthday I received a call from my MD's office to make an appointment for a special checkup, and the receptionist organised it to coincide with the end of the next period when I would be available.
I was going to write a quick account of my visit, but so much happened during the day that I decided to try and record it all, both for my own benefit in times to come, and also for anyone else that might read my story, and perhaps enjoy it. What I have done, is split it up into multiple posts, or it would be much too long as a single narrative. Then I have linked them together so I can navigate to all the different parts of the account.
Please try and read them in order, it will make your experience much more enjoyable.
Initial Obs – posted here
Lactation Test – posted here
Student Training – posted here
Dilation Test – posted here
Extension Test – posted here
Compression Test – posted here
Farrel Drawings – posted here
Overnight (this post)– posted here
********************************
Overnight
Dr Forrest informed me that I was going to be kept overnight. I knew they had a small inpatient ward on the premises, but had never expected that I would have to make use of it.
The doctor explained that she wanted to do some more work on my lactation, with more frequent milkings, and she needed me on the premises so they would have access at the correct times. Nurse Sandra wheeled the breast pump over, hooked me up to it, then set it going at quite a low suction, till the flow had started. I was stood against the examination table, resting my butt against the side restraints, which she had raised earlier, enjoying the sensations as the milk was drawn through my nipples, and the suction cups squeezed my breasts. Dr Forrest said she wanted me to phone my Mom in a few minutes, so that I could explain about the overnight stay, but there were a few things that needed setting up before I talked with her. The nurse said that she wanted me seated for a while, and brought over a stool that had a dildo mounted on the seat, much like the cushion that I have at home, and she said it was to stop me from wriggling about. Obediently I spread my legs, then lowered myself slowly as she located the tapered end of the fake cock against my anus, the already applied lubricant feeling slick against my butt. Coming round to the front, she placed her hands at the top of my thighs, pressing down slowly as the dildo eased into me, pushing harder once entrance had been made, until I was fully impaled on the stool. Taking my hand, she stretched it out along the side bars, then tied me at wrist, elbow, and upper arm ,repeating it in the other side so that I was completely immobile. Just to make sure, she passed a rope around my waist, tied it to the bed frame, then cinched it really tight, till I was nearly cut in two. Kneeling down, the nurse next firmly secured my ankles to the stool, so now there really was no way I could go anywhere.
Dr Forrest rang my home, spoke with Mom for a moment to reassure her, complimenting her on how well behaved I’d been, then positioned the handset for me while I read from a sheet of paper she was holding in front of me. It was quite comical really, as I told Mom, “I’m tied up with some tests I can’t get out of”, then when she asked what time I’d be home, I replied, “Sorry, but I’m stuck here, Dr Forrest won’t allow me to leave until morning.”
Mom said “That is a shame dear, but I’m positive that the doctor will take very good care of you.” The she added, “Are you being a good girl, Katie?”
I picked up on the key phrase, and responded properly, “Oh yes Mommy, I’m going to be a very good girl for Dr Forrest, and I’ve promised to do everything that she tells me to.”
“Very well, sweetheart,” she replied, “you have a nice night, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
At least Mom wouldn’t worry about me now, she knew that I was safe, and being looked after. Whenever I couldn’t get home as expected, I would always phone and tell her where I was, and when I would be back, though not necessarily what I was doing,. Mom would also do the same if she was delayed somewhere, or had gone out unexpectedly, and the conversation would always have a challenge and response section. One of us would ask a coded question, and the other person would give a particular, non-specific reply to indicate that they were OK, or a different reply if there was something wrong, then help would be on its way.
When we’d said goodbye, Dr Forrest put the phone down, then turned to the task in hand, milking my titties till they were dry. She turned up the suction, sprayed the Oxytocin on my pulse spots again, then massaged my breast, asking Nurse Sandra to massage the other one. The stimulation of the spray, and their hands, soon had my milk flow increasing to twice what it had been earlier in the afternoon, but when the doctor reached between my thighs to rub my clitoris, it grew even more.
Each time the pump sucked at my nipple I could feel my breast tingle as the muscles forced out my milk, a sensation mirrored by contractions inside my cunny. With the additional rubbing my clit was getting from the doctor I was soon cumming, and I could see why the nurse had sat me on a dildo stool, as it prevented me from thrusting my hips with each wave of pleasure that washed over me, keeping me firmly in place. Finally my nipples stopped leaking milk, my breasts now fully drained, and the doctor removed the suction cups, telling me I had done very well in producing so much, this early in my lactation. When Dr Forrest left the room, Nurse Sandra said she would go and arrange my bed for the night, but before she left, she fitted a pair of long, slim tubes to the breast pump, and attached them to my nipples. With the pump on a low suction my teats were slowly drawn into each tube, then the nurse left me alone while she went upstairs to the ward. When she went out, she left the door open, and once more I was put on display to the waiting area, through my reflection in the large wall mirror.
There were only a few people still waiting to be seen, but I eventually saw each of them look in my direction, then repeatedly look back again as I remained in the same exposed position. After about fifteen minutes a young woman got up from one of the seats, and walked down the corridor, leading a young girl of about 10 years old by the hand. I assumed that she was taking her daughter down to the restroom, but as she reached the open door, she turned in, and brought the girl to stand in front of me. She asked me if it was OK for her daughter to have a look, as she’d brought her in today so she could join one of the research programs that the doctors were running, and she thought I might also be on one of them. Smiling, I told the woman it was perfectly fine, I’d be glad to help them, especially as she was quite correct in that I was part of a research project, one run by Dr Forrest.
The lady introduced herself as Claire, and her lovely daughter Sophie, who was 10 years old only last week. The young girl dipped a quick curtsey, then said “Thank you very much, Ma’am, may I ask what they are doing to you?” She was so sweet, and I loved being addressed as Ma’am by her, so I explained that I was producing milk in my breasts, and the doctor was draining it off for me, so that I didn’t get too swollen. She told me that she was going to be on a research project as well, and I could tell that she was really proud to be part of it, her face just beamed. I commended her, adding that she would probably find it a lot of fun, just as I had since I’d joined. That was when I was just turned twelve, and a little more developed than she was, but she was lucky because she would have results right from the begining of her development, wheras I had missed the start. That obviously pleased the young girl, because her face lit up, her smile widened even more, and she turned round, saying, “You were right Mommy, this lady says I’m the right age to join as well. Thank you.” Turning back to me, she continued, “Excuse me Ma’am, but may I ask if those tubes hurt you? It’s just that they look really uncomfortable.” Her Mom looked a bit worried, perhaps over what I might answer, but as I’d no idea how much the young girl actually knew about the project, I just replied truthfully, “No, sweetheart, they don’t hurt at the moment, in fact, it’s feels much better now that I have been milked.” That seemed to satisfy her immediate curiosity, so I added, “Most of the time it’s lots of fun seeing the doctor, especially because you’re not actually feeling poorly, so you can enjoy it. Although sometimes, I must admit, you are right, it does get a bit uncomfortable, but big girls like you and I have to be very brave.” I leaned forward, and whispered to her, but still loud enough for her Mom to hear, “When I was a really good girl, the doctor had a candy jar that I could choose from, and sometimes my Mommy would take me shopping after for a nice present as well.”
Sophie looked so sweet as she hugged herself, the most radiant smile I’ve ever seen lighting up her little face. Claire thanked me for my time, then excused them both, saying Sophie had better get to the restroom now, which was where they’d been heading for originally. “Before we go,” Claire said, “would it be alright if I gave you my number, only I would really appreciate talking to you about the program sometime. Sophie seems to like you, and I’m sure it would also help to reassure her.”
I told her I’d be morethan happy to help, and would call her next week, but just at the moment I was rather short of pockets, but she could leave her number on the doctor’s desk, and I’d pick it up later.
As they left the room, Sophie turned and said, “Thank you very much,” then nearly bumped into Nurse Sandra, who was just returning from the ward. I explained to the nurse about my visitors, and asked her to put Claire’s number in my purse for me, which she did, locking the desk drawer again afterwards. It looked like I wouldn’t be getting my clothes back just yet.
Switching off the breast pump, Nurse Sandra locked off the tubes on my nipples, leaving them still attached by the suction inside them, then removed the tubing. I couldn’t help thinking about the video link that Uncle Robert had sent me earlier, grateful at least that they hadn’t fisted me as well. My arms were untied, and I was ordered to lift myself off the dildo that was attached to the stool, then bend over so the nurse could check the dilation of my anus. When she was satisfied, I was made to clasp my arms behind me, then Nurse Sandra took my elbow, and led me to the ward, but we took the route through reception, stopping by the desk for a few moments, which kept my naked body on display to those few patients still waiting. We continued on to the stairs, climbing up to the small middle landing, where we passed an orderly, a nice young man of about 25 I would guess, who Nurse Sandra called back when he’d gone a few steps past us. He turned back to face us while the nurse asked him to tidy up in the examination room we had just left, so from his position below us he had a perfect view up between my legs. Nurse Sandra still had hold of my elbow, and she now moved me back just a small distance, which made me step off the landing, and onto the top stair, but only with my right foot. Since my left foot was still on the higher landing, my thighs were spread apart, and I moved my upper knee further out to more fully expose my bald pussy and girlcleft to the young man. He never took his eyes from between my legs the whole time he was talking to the nurse, and I’d like to bet he didn’t get half of what she said.
We continued on up the stairs, down a short corridor, and into the 3 bed ward, which was empty, although all the beds were made up. I was taken to the middle one, told to climb in, but to remain sat up, with the covers folded back so that my breasts were uncovered, and on display. The nurse said she would send housekeeping up in a few moments, to take my evening meal order, and in the meantime there were some magazines on the bedside table for me to read. When I browsed through them, I assumed they must have been specially selected for myself, as I didn’t think regular patients would be put at ease by the selection. There was a brochure for the Medical Centre, which looked like part of a group as it said not all the services were offered, but to contact your MD or reception for more information. The title said this was for Additional Services 2, so there is probably another brochure for the normal services, anyway, they detailed some of the procedures Dr Forrest had put me through today, stretching, dilation, and such, but a whole lot more severe ones as well. I was just glad they weren’t part of my program. Some of the other magazines were Fetish, BDSM, and a very strong Lesbian theme, all very exciting reading material, I thought, and I soon had my hand beneath the covers, between my legs. I’d just closed my eyes for a few moments to savour one exceptionally beautiful picture of two girls in a lesbian embrace, and when I opened them, a young lady from the housekeeping staff was stood beside me. When I apologised, she told me to continue, and folded the covers back so she could watch me masturbate more easily, even pushing my knees apart. I was so sexually excited that my nipples were beginning to leak, and the tubes began to come loose, so the lady took some gauze pads from the table to mop my milk up, rubbing my teats quite strongly, then squeezing and pulling on them as I rubbed my wet pussy slit. It only took a few moments for me to climax, and she kept up her attention to my nipples the whole time. When I had calmed down, she instructed me to remain uncovered while she took my order from a very nice menu selection, then asked if I’d tried the TV yet, showing me how the remote switched on the regular channels, and also the in-house media selection. Most of this selection could be classified as porn, but when I channel hopped I found it was all very stimulating, though a few of the programs were too strong for my particular taste. There were a few documentary type programs in there as well, which I found really interesting as they explained several of the research projects that were being run at this clinic, and how they were part of a nationwide medical group. I hadn’t realised just how extensive the overall program was, although I’d always known there were a lot of other subjects in my development set, it seemed it was far wider than I’d ever considered. Several sections of the documentary had actual footage showing the examinations that the patients were undergoing, with very detailed close views of their most private places being probed, stretched, and squeezed. I soon realised that a lot of the subjects were far more developed than I was, and I enjoyed watching the comparison sequences that showed young, undeveloped girls joining the project, then the changes at each milestone review.
My meal arrived during the show, and I was pleased to discover that I could pause the film while I ate, then continue afterwards. Housekeeping set the small table on the other side of the room, then she called me over, but before I was seated she checked my notes. She took a quite large dildo, and a smaller one, from a cabinet, fastened them to the seat of my chair with suction cups, then held the chair while I lowered myself onto them. I sometimes used my own toys like this at home, but I had never done it with an audience, or with a dildo in both holes. I must admit, it made mealtime very enjoyable, and every time I leaned forward to take a mouthful of food I could feel the shafts move inside my body. The front one in particular was really noticeable, because although it looked small compared the anal intruder, it was in fact quite a lot wider than I was used to, so I my cunny was considerably stretched.
When I’d finished my meal, I remained seated, enjoying the feeling of fullness, and not just in my tummy, occasionally rocking back and forth, or raising my bottom slightly from the seat, then just dropping back down again. After a short while, a nurse came into the room, not Sandra, but a much younger girl, probably not even as old as myself. She moved the dishes to the far side of the table, brought over a breast pump, and set it up to empty my milk, which was just beginning to get a little uncomfortable. She kept the pressure quite low for a while, producing only a few drops from each teat, but when she sprayed the Oxytocin on my wrists and neck, within minutes I could feel both my breast twitching inside. Soon the feelings spread down towards my nipples, which grew warmer, till milk began to spray from them into the collection chambers. The young nurse now turned up both the suction and the pulse rate as my flow increased, stepping it up every few minutes, then she told me to spread my knees apart, reached forward, and started to rub my wet girlcleft. When her fingers stroked my clitoris, pushing up my sexual excitement, she pointed out the corresponding increased flow of my breast milk, telling me that I should make sure that I played with myself whenever I was milked, or got someone else to do it for me. Hooking her finger in the top of my slit, she pulled hard upward, ordering me to work the dildoes, so I obediently started to rise and fall on them. Following her directions to lift slowly so that I could feel the shafts draw out along the full length, then drop my full weight onto them for the downward stroke, as if I was being rammed by a vigourous lover, I soon reached my climax. I was kept on the breast pump for twenty minutes, till my titties were fully drained, then the nurse swapped the cups for two narrow tubes, turning up the suction so my nipples were stretched right inside them. She then took two pieces of red satin ribbon from her pocket, and tied them tightly round the end of each breast, just behind the suction tubes, finishing them off with a large bow. When she removed the tubes, it just left my titties adorned with the satin bows, and fat nipples sticking right out at the centre of them. She had me lift off the chair, and stand in front of a mirror to admire the effect, which looked cute, but very sexy as well. I was then ordered to get back into bed, where I could read, watch TV, or take a nap if I wanted, but I had to leave the covers down so that my naked body remained fully exposed to whoever came into the room. I sat up and watched the rest of the research documntary, enjoying my naked exhibition as several people waked past the door, and paused to look in as well, till housekeeping arrived to clear the table. I chatted with her for a while, sending my compliments to the chef, then she removed the satin ribbons from my teats, saying it was a shame really as they looked quite beautiful with them on. My nipples had become quite painful, especially if rubbed against them, but when she removed the ribbons, the blood now rushed back into them, and they hurt even more. When she left, I lay back on the pillows, and very quickly fell asleep, as it had been a very busy, tiring day, but I had enjoyed every minute of it.
I slept for a couple of hours, then the nurse woke me to take my obs, for which she had me lay down on top of the covers, with my feet placed at the corners of the bed to spread my legs so that my cunny was on display. When she had recorded my measurements, I was taken over to the table where the breast pump was still set up, waiting while she placed two more dildoes on the chair seat, then settling myself down on them. They seemed larger than before, and I had to work myself up and down a few times until I was fully penetrated, and I felt completely stuffed. The nurse attached the suction cups to my breasts, and once more drained every drop of milk from me, with the help of the spray, and a very nice pussy rub. She complimented me on being so co-operative, and told me I was now producing nearly 4 ounces, which was very good for a young girl on her first day, but she felt sure I could be made to give much more milk by the time I was allowed home.
While I was being milked, one of the janitors had brought my clothes up from Dr Forrest’s office, and while he had put most of them in a basket to carry them, he was holding my bra and panties in his hand, and rubbing his thumb across the inside of the gusset. Rather than put the basket down on a chair, or put the clothes away in a drawer, he took each item out of the basket, and laid it carefully across the bed next to mine. He arranged them neatly, bottom of the skirt just draped over the edge, but with the hem turned back as if it had ben lifted to display what was underneath. My blouse laid above it, front edges touching, but not buttoned, the lower corners folded open as if displaying my tummy, and the neckline spread so it would highlight my cleavage. My suspender belt and stockings were arranged next to the skirt and blouse, as if I’d just been removed from them. Finally my bra and panties on the next apparent row, lined up in their correct poition, but the top, lace edges of the bra cups turned backwards, and the crotch of my panties twisted round to display the juice stained gusset for eveyone to see. The janitor looked about 50 years old, with a handsome, friendly face, but he must have worked in the fashion business before, judging from the way he’d just displayed all my clothing in such a sensuous manner. I often lay my clothes out similar to that in the morning before I get dressed, just to make sure the ensemble goes together properly, but the janitor had made some nice, subtle touches that enhanced the display into a sexual exhibition.
When the nurse had detached me from my milking machine, I was instructed to put my shoes on, black high heels that accentuated my calves, then clasp my hands behind me. Taking my elbow, she led me out of the room, then it seemed we walked right through the whole building to the far side, where she took a bottle from a store cupboard, then we returned by a different route to the corridor where the ward was located. I couldn’t see why she’d taken me with her, instead of leaving me in my room, other than on our travels we had met at least a dozen people, cleaners, janitors, nursing staff, and even a pizza delivery guy when we were passing the rear entrance. The nurse seemed to know them all, stopping to exchange a few words with everyone we met, but never once did anyone comment on her having a completely nude girl along with her. That didn’t mean I wasn’t noticed, as all of them took the opportunity to look my nakedness up and down, and sometimes the nurse even turned me round, showing my butt to them for several seconds before we walked off. It was quite a turn on to be exhibited in this manner, and I could feel my girl juice wetting my slit, the lips sliding against each other as I walked along the corridors. When we arrived back near the ward, I was taken into a small treatment room that had a toilet and shower stall in there as well, and ordered to relieve myself while the nurse watched. Without being allowed to wipe myself, the nurse made me stand in the shower with my feet apart while she slipped her fingers between my legs, gathering the ample juice that was there, and licking it from her fingers. She did this several times before saying she’d better get me cleaned up, then turned on the shower after I’d removed my heels, watching as I wet my body. The bottle that we’d been so far to bring back, was apparently shower gel, and I had to stand at the stall entrance while she rubbed the soap into my wet skin, working up a lather as she rubbed her hands all over me. Special attention was paid to my breasts, pussy, and my bottom, even having to bend over while soapy fingers were worked in and out of both holes, then rinsed clean. When I’d been thoroughly cleaned, the nurse even dried me with a big, fluffy towel, patting my damp flesh gently, all over, then rubbing more and more vigorously, till I had to brace myself up against the wall. At last I was done, slipped my shoes on, and walked the short distance back to the ward, climbing into bed when instructed. The nurse told me I was free to read, watch TV, or sleep, but as before, I was to remain uncovered. Also, I was to leave my clothes where they were, fully displayed on the bed, in case any of the night staff happened to come by, and of course I was to be compliant with them, as I had been all day. The nurse left me then, and I read the lesbian magazines for a while, but half an hour later an older woman walked into the ward, and said she needed to turn me over as part of the skin care management regieme. Obediently I turned onto my tummy, letting her adjust my arms and legs, then she massaged some cool lotion all over my back, and especially my bottom. It was just like having a beauty treatment, though she did spend a long time on my butt, then she spread my legs really wide apart, working on the inside of my thighs, right up to my bald cunny, and even massaging my girlcleft. I was instructed to stay in position while she went to fetch something, so I just lay there on the bed, naked, open, and exposed. After a few minutes, one of the cleaners came in, and I could feel my cunny tighten up at the thought that he could see all my most private places. After dusting round for a while he looked at my chart, then came round to the side of my bed, but because my head was turned to the other side, I couldn’t see him, so I started to face the other way. He put his hand on my shoulder, pressing me down, and ordered me to stay as I was, so of course I returned to my original postion, wondering what he was going to do, since I was openly accessible to him. I could hear him moving round, then he came to my side and crouched down to dust the bedframe, but in this position he was looking straight at my face so I smiled at him, and he smiled back. He moved further down the bed, never once looking at his dusting, but keeping his eys on my unclothed body, studdying the side of my breast where it was squashed beneath me, then at my butt. He now moved out of my vision, but I obediently stayed as I was, imagining what he was looking at, till I felt his weight press on the bottom of the mattress, then I knew he was looking directly up between my thighs, right at my exposed cunny. My slit bagan to tingle, being blatantly watched like this, and I could feel my petals become engorged, peeling apart to reveal my erect clit as it peeked out from its protective hood. I felt him brush against my upper thigh, on the other side, where I couldn’t see him, then his fingers gently grasped each fleshy outer sex lip and slowly eased them further apart, then further, and even further still. I felt his breath as he blew right down my wet cleft, and I couldn’t repress the moan that escaped from my lips. His quiet chuckle told me he knew I was aroused, so I compliantly laid still as he released my sex, then moments later pressed against the entrance. At the first touch I thought it was his finger, but realised it was cold, and slippery, as if it had been covered in body lotion. He worked the rounded end against my love hole, then gently positioned it on centre, pressing harder till it stretched my cherry open, then seemed to almost pop inside me. Once more I could feel him rub against the entrance to my cunny, pause, press harder again, then another inaudible pop, but now I could feel him actually inside me. With that slightly filled sensation still present, another touch to my slit, another push, and I now realised what he was doing to me as I lay naked and helpless on my bed. On my bedside was a fruit bowl, and this man was inserting grapes into my pussy, one by one, most likely covered in the lotion that had been used during my massage, to make them slip in easier. Several more grapes were pushed deep inside me, each one making me more aroused till an orgasm washed through my body, leaving me trembling before this man’s avid gaze. As I lay quietly recovering, I felt something warm land on my butt, his sperm, as he masturbated to my lascivious display, then another shot on my lower back, and a third at the top of my thigh, just on the crease. He leaned over to whisper “Thank You” in my ear, then he quietly left, without a backward glance. As I lay there, even more turned on than ever, I could feel the sperm on my bottom, now cooling, begin to slide down into my crease, then the one on my thigh also fall prey to gravity as it slid inwards, along my groin, then across my hairless mound. While one loaded coated my cunny, the sperm on my bottom worked its way down my ass groove, pooling on my anus, which I flexed to get it fully coated, but there was too much for that tiny indent to hold, so it traveled on, running the full length of my pulsing slit, triggering another orgasm.
When the massage lady returned, she apologised for taking so long, but when she reached the side of the bed I could hear her tutting, then say, “Well dear, it looks like you weren’t lonely while I was away. Cleaner?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” I confirmed.
“I don’t know why they call them cleaners,” she complained, “they always leave things messy.” Taking some wipes, she cleaned the sperm from my back, and bottom cheeks, then along my crease as far as my anus, where she stopped, and pulled my cunny hole apart with her thumbs. “Well now, little lady, what have you got wedged in here,” she enquired, wriggling her finger through my hymen to poke the object protruding from my entrance.
“I couldn’t see, Ma’am,” I replied, “but I think they might be grapes, about ten of them.”
“Ah, well, that would be Vincent,” she explained, “cute little trick of his. Did you enjoy it Katie.”
“Oh yes Ma’am, I came twice. Especially when I didn’t know what he was doing to me.”
“I suppose I could get the nurse to take a look at them,” the lady said, “but you may have to wait for Dr Forrest in the morning. Still, I’ll get you cleaned up anyway.”
She continued wiping me, making me wriggle like mad as she rubbed down my slit, and across my sensitive clit. She slapped my bottom, and told me to keep still, but that only made me moan even more, and I still twitched about as she finished cleaning me up. When she was done, she had me lift my hips so she could put a pillow under me, then spanked my bottom with her hand, till my cheeks were glowing red, and burning hot. She said she was finished now, but ordered me to remain where I was, laid on my tummy, and to behave myself, or I’d get another spanking.
Going to bottom of the bed, she wrote something on my chart, then came and kissed my cheek before she left.
I managed to sleep for a couple of hours, but when the nurse came and woke me for my obs, and my next milking session, my breasts were aching from being squashed beneath me, but I wasn’t allowed to turn over just yet. The nurse told me to stay in position while she cleaned me up, which is when I noticed that my bottom was cold and sticky again, then she used several wipes to remove the sperm that had been ejaculated over my sleeping form. At first I was annoyed that someone had used me just to jerk off to, and told the nurse just what I thought of whoever it was, but then I was annoyed because I’d actually missed out on the enjoyment of being humiliated in that way. As I got chance to realise what must have been going on while I slept, the thought of a steady stream of male employees going in and out of my room, jerking off till they shot their load of hot spunk all over my back turned me on so much that I almost climaxed. I was turned over, and hooked up to the breast pump again, the suction turned on, so my milk started draining, then the nurse sprayed my pulse spots with Oxytocin, and almost immediately my let down reflex started pumping milk to my teats. The nurse sat on the side of my bed while I was milked, stroking my clit as she chatted about what my impressions of the ward were, now that I’d been here a few hours. I told her it wasn’t what I’d expected it to be, just laying about inbetween milkings, but I had really enjoyed being led round the building naked, having my body displayed to so many strangers who had no business seeing me in that state of undress. Also there were so many of the staff who seemed to find a valid reason to be working in my room while I was exposed to them in the nude, and they all treated me as if I were their personal plaything, though to be honest, I did rather enjoy that. The nurse explained that some of the house practices, especially on the night shift, promoted that sort of behaviour, and she would show me the reasons when I was finished up being milked. She had managed to extract nearly five ounces of milk from my titties this time, which she said was excellent work, and I deserved a prize for being such a good little dairy maid.
When I’d been released from the machine, I was instructed to put my high heels back on, then stand with my arms folded in my back, which I was beginning to realise was the regular stance for me this evening. The nurse took me to the end of the bed, and showed me my chart, which was hung on the footboard, pointing out my name, the summary of what Dr Forrest had done to me during the day, and the comment – Control Group – Full Access – Small Vaginal Inserts Only. I was told that every time someone came in to a patient’s room, they would check the charts to find out if anything more needed doing with them, and if there were any restrictions.
Control Group meant that I was submissive, or at least compliant to instructions.
Free Access indicated no body areas were out of bounds, either outside, or inside the patient’s body.
Small Vaginal Inserts Only was to let people know of any restrictions, in this case, because I was a virgin, I was not to be stretched so far that it would damage my hymen.
In the section below were my actual observations, pulse, blood pressure, etc. and the nurse brought my attention to several other rows where each staff member recorded their name, and the treatment given me. Surprisingly, there were 12 entries for ejaculate salve, which the nurse said was the spunk that had been shot on my back, and another line said vag insert – 10 grapes, so I explained that this was the cleaner pushing grapes inside me. She smiled at this and asked if I’d liked it, to which I said I definitely had. Taking my elbow again, the nurse led me through the building, which was so much quieter now that the day’s activity was over, though there were still quite a lot of maintenance staff and cleaners about. We eventually ended up in the basement, in front of a notice board, where the nurse pointed out a list to me. It was headed, “Availability”, and there were four names on there, two of them were ladies, noted as being cleaners, one was a male data processor, and the fourth name was mine, listed as a patient, along with my room and bed number. The nurse explained that this was one of the perks of working the night shift, there was often free time, and several of the staff made themselves sexually available, as well as suitable patients who were on several research projects. That’s why I’d had so many visitors, because my name was on the board, and even when I was sleeping, I was still used to masturbate over. I could feel my cunny juicing up at the thought of everyone in the building knowing that I was available as a sex toy for their personal pleasure.
We returned to the ward, and the nurse told me to get some sleep while I could, and she’d see me in three hours for another milking session.
She came back three more times through the night, hooking me up to the breast pump to drain my titties, usually seated on the chair with the dildoes attached, and often there was one or two of the other staff visiting as well. They would play with my hairless cunny, to stimulate me so my milk flow would increase, and the men would shoot their spunk on me as they watched. The ladies would stand beside me so that I could finger their pussy, and sometimes climb onto the table to allow me to lick them as well. Before I went back to bed I would be cleaned up, but I always woke up with some sperm on my body somewhere, from my other, unknown visitors.
In the morning, Dr Forrest came round to see me, asking if I’d had a good night, to which I replied that it had been tiring, but a great deal of fun. She checked my chart, smiling at just how much fun was recorded there, then she had me kneel up on the bed, on all fours, while she used a pair of long tweezers to remove the grapes that had been stuffed in my cunny. She watched as I put on my garter belt and stockings, high heels, skirt, and blouse, but was not allowed my underwear as she said they had no clean ones for me, so I would have to go home without any, naked beneath my outer clothes.
I was given a list of things to do over the following week, including being milked at least four times a day, and instructions to have a discussion with my Mom concerning my cherry.
She gave me a precription for a much stronger suction pump than I currently had at home, so that I could also enlarge of my nipples, clitoris, and labia, when my milking had finished. Along with the prescription was an information sheet for the recommended frequency and intensity to be used with the pump, as well as the address of a shop where I could get the prescription filled.
My task list also included her reccomendation that I get a series of body piercings, with a minimum of one horizontal piercing through each nipple, and a vertical piercing through my clitoral hood. Both of these would, she said, vastly increase my most basic orgasm, and also provide increased sensations just from wearing normal clothing. She’d added the address of a body studio who would make sure I received special service just by mentioning her name.
The final thing she gave me was a recommendation to her friend who had made the corset I’d worn the day before, with a view to becoming a part time model for him to test his new designs on. While I was under no obligation to enter into a permanent arrangement with him, Dr Forrest said that she would expect me to have at least two sessions at his studio, and that I should be a good girl for him.
I was told to phone in after the week was up, and talk over with Dr Forrest if I wanted to take her up on any of the treatments she had offered me. She stood up then and showed me to the door, giving me a kiss goodbye, while she put her hand beneath my skirt, rubbing my clit, then said she looked forward to seeing me again soon.
** That's all for now, but the story continues in further posts ....
Initial Obs – posted here
Lactation Test – posted here
Student Training – posted here
Dilation Test – posted here
Extension Test – posted here
Compression Test – posted here
Farrel Drawings – posted here
Overnight (this post)– posted here
Please try and read them in order, it will make your experience much more enjoyable.
hugs from Katie
:)
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