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From: Charles Dodgson <chaz_dodgson@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Blackmailing Stepdaughter_j (g5M;o,v;cons,rom) [C.Dodgson]
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Date: Tue,  5 Apr 2005 01:10:02 -0400
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My father had left when I was a baby and my mother remarried when I was
four.  I asked if he was my daddy, but she told me I should call him George
since he was only a stepfather.  However, she had him adopt me because, she
said, there were some tax advantages.  Much later I figured out that she
felt that she would be more likely to get child support if they divorced.
We were living in a small two bedroom apartment so George did his writing
at his computer on a card table in the corner of the living room.  My
mother had a good job as a lawyer at the local university, and she never
missed the opportunity to rub it in to George that she made more money than
he did.  He was a nice guy, but she bossed him around and made him cook
meals, clean the house, and she also delegated my care to him since he was
home, and she often worked late.

   We visited George's mother every few weekends, and I enjoyed myself
exploring the big old house she lived in.  It was in an expensive
neighborhood and had five bedrooms and a basement.  Her husband had died a
few years earlier.  I found a box of magazines and books in the basement
hidden under the back of George's father's old workbench.  That's where I
learned what men looked like between their legs and how they put their
things inside women and how women sucked their things.

   I felt myself down there and found that it was really nice if I touched
near the front of myself between the lips.  Then I looked for the place
where they put their things, and found a tiny hole.  I could just barely
get my own finger inside and not very far so I couldn't figure how they
could get anything that big in there.  I tried putting various stuff up
there, first a crayon, then I tried a hot dog, but it bent.  I wasn't sure
if it was because I was too dry or it was too soft.  In one of the
magazines the woman was putting some stuff on the guy's thing, and my
mother had a jar just like that in the cupboard below the bathroom sink.  I
later found out that it was Vaseline.

   I got a small carrot, smeared this over it, then pushed it inside.  That
worked a lot better, but it stopped after only as far as my finger had gone
because it was the same size there.  I pushed really hard and the bigger
part of the carrot tore the skin around the hole then went in pretty far,
but it hurt quite a bit.  I yanked it out, and it was covered with blood. I
was worried, but it stopped bleeding so I put some toilet paper there, and
didn't do anything for a couple of days except pet myself on the outside.
However, I was curious so I got another hot dog, wiped it with Vaseline and
gently pushed it inside.  It was really tight, but it went in pretty far,
and I liked how it felt.  I decided to always put one inside me when I
petted the outside.

   We didn't always have hot dogs in the refrigerator, so I had to find
other things, then I remembered a thing that was in the hidden box.  It was
white plastic and a little bigger than a hot dog.  The next time we went
over there I got it and tried, but there wasn't any Vaseline.  I had seen a
can of stuff on the workbench that George had used on the bottoms of some
drawers that his mother had complained wouldn't slide.  After he did that,
they slid open and closed very easily.  I opened it, got some of the stuff
out and it worked, but that thing was really big.  I could hardly get any
of it inside at first, but each time we visited I ran down to the basement
and dug it out.  Over the next month I managed to get it past the tip and
pretty far inside.

   George's mother had him when she was in her forties, and now she was in
her seventies and smoked constantly, even though George kept trying to get
her to quit.  I liked her, but I didn't like the smell of the cigarette
smoke.  My mother always seemed bored when we went there.

   About the time I turned five, George's mother had a heart attack.  When
they took her to the hospital they found she also had lung cancer.  She was
in the hospital only a week when she had another heart attack and died. 
She had left the house to George so we moved into it.  They took the master
bedroom, moved me into another and set up one as an office for George. 
This left two bedrooms empty so they decided to use one for storage and as
a guest room, and rent the other one out to a boarder.  We never had guests
over so I didn't know why they wanted to have a guest bedroom.

   My mother registered with university housing and found a female graduate
student who moved in for rest of the spring semester.  Sara was an English
major who was planning to write for television so she spent much of her
time in her room on her own computer hooked to the Internet.  She wasn't
too familiar with how to do searches so she often asked George for help. 
At first, he would show her on his machine, then he started going into her
bedroom to use her computer.  It didn't take too long before I noticed that
they always closed her door, and I could hear them slide the bolt to lock
it.

   I started listening at the door, and I could tell they weren't working
on the computer, but the sounds were interesting.  I went through the guest
bedroom, into the bathroom that connected the two bedrooms.  The door was
closed and locked, but because the house was so old, the bathroom had the
old fashioned door lock with a keyhole that you could peek through.  My
stepfather and Sara both had their clothes off and were lying on the bed.

   I couldn't quite see what he was doing, but he appeared to have his face
between her legs, and she was moaning and saying how good it felt.  He
began to crawl up and licked her breasts for a while, then I watched as he
did what I saw in the magazines and pushed his thing inside her.  I peeked
at them doing it just about every day, then I would play with myself. 
After a few weeks I decided that I would like George to put his thing
inside me, and I wanted to see what it was like to suck it.

   Sara announced that she finished her graduate thesis and her orals.  (I
knew what the word meant, but at the time I thought it had to do with her
sucking the professors.  Later I learned it referred to exams.) She was
about to get her PhD and had been offered a job in Hollywood so she would
be moving in two weeks because the drive was too long on the freeway.  I
could tell George was sad, but they spent a lot of time during the days she
was home in her room.  The morning after she left, I told George I wanted
him to put his thing inside me like he did with Sara.

   "How did. . .  where did you get that idea, Amy?  I never did anything
like that." I could tell he was really scared.

   "I saw you do it in her room every day.  I always went into the spare
bedroom and watched you from the keyhole in the bathroom door.  I figured
that now she's gone we could do it."

   "Amy, please don't tell your mother.  It would upset her terribly.  And,
you are way too young and too small to do anything like that.  Tell you
what, if you forget about all of that I can take you to Disneyland."

   "I'd like that, but I still want you to put your thing inside me, and I
want to suck you.  Oh, what about you licking me down there?  You did that
with Sara, too, so I'd like you to do that, too."

   "No, Amy, it's just not done with a little girl like you."

   Since he was afraid of my mother I decided to try that.  "Well, if you
don't, I'll tell my mother about you and Sara." From the look on his face I
knew I had him.

   "Please, please, please, Amy, don't say anything.  It could cause a lot
more trouble than you think."

   "Ok, I won't say anything as long as we do the same stuff you were doing
with Sara."

   "No, I could get into even worse trouble if anyone found out about that.
I just isn't done between adults and kids."

   "That's not true.  Some of your father's magazines in the cellar showed
adults and little girls doing that stuff."

   "What do you mean?"

   I said, "Wait a minute" and ran down to the basement.  I grabbed the two
magazines that showed that and brought them back.  I opened one up to a
page that showed a guy about as old as George with his thing way inside a
girl about my age.

   "See, we can do it just like that."

   "Oh my god, I never knew my father had any magazines like that.  I don't
know what to say."

   "Well, see.  If that man can do it with a little girl, you can do it
with me," I said, using a child's logic.

   "No, it's still wrong," George said.

   "I think my mom will think what you were doing with Sara was wrong, too.
I won't tell her about you doing that, and I won't tell anyone about us
doing stuff, if you do it with me." I could tell he was weakening.

   "Ok, if you promise never, never, never to tell anyone ever, I'll lick
you down there one time."

   "I promise, but we've got to do all that stuff, and we have to do it
pretty often."

   "Amy, we can't do insertion.  An adult penis would injure you.  It would
tear your little vagina, and you'd bleed and have to go to the hospital."

   I decided not to tell him about the plastic thing, yet.  "Well, will you
lick me and let me suck you?"

   "Ok, but you won't like it, and if you don't, we stop and you never
mention it again, right?"

   "Ok.  Where should we do it?" I asked.

   "I don't know.  How about Sara's room?" he suggested.  I agreed and we
went to her room.  I immediately pulled off my top, took off my shoes and
socks and slid down my shorts and panties.

   George just stood there staring at me.  He had never seen me without
clothes before.  "You do have a beautiful little body, Amy.  I just never
thought of it sexually before, but you are way too tiny."

   "You promised, so you have to get undressed, too."

   "Ok," he said, and quickly put his clothes over a chair.  His thing, he
called it a penis, was sticking out a bit but it was more hanging down
instead of pointing up the way the ones in the magazines did.  I reached
out and touched it, and he jerked.  I put my fingers around it, and the
skin in the front slid back.  That was neat so I pulled it forward then
pushed it back again.  I could feel him getting harder and bigger, and it
was beginning to stick up like in the pictures.

   "Oh, my god, I can't believe this, and with a five year old" George
said.

   "I hopped up on the bed, lay on my back and spread my legs.  "You wanna
lick me there?" I asked.

   "Oh, fuck, I may as well do this right," he muttered, more to himself
than to me.  He lay beside me and began to kiss my face and ears and lips
and tell me how pretty I was, and how beautiful my body was.  Gradually, he
moved down kissing and licking as he went.  I loved it when he licked and
sucked on my tiny nipples then moved down past my stomach.  Finally, he got
to between my legs.  He licked all along the outside, and it felt ten times
better than when I petted myself.

   When he found my spot near the front with his tongue, it was so good I
could hardly stay still.  It didn't take too long before my whole body was
shaking, and I was pressing myself into his mouth.  Then something happened
like being on a roller-coaster, and I could hardly breathe, but I was
panting.  He kept it up for about five minutes, and I kept going wild the
entire time.  Finally, he slowed down and moved up beside me.  "I figured
you'd like it, but I never thought you'd have an orgasm, especially that
strong and prolonged." I didn't know what he was talking about, but I loved
hearing George's voice and I loved him.

   "That was wonderful, George.  I want to do that a lot.  Is that how it
feels if I suck you?"

   "Pretty much, but you don't have to do that."

   "I want to" I said, and slid down.  By now his thing was sticking
straight up and really hard.  I grabbed it with both hands and put my mouth
over the front of it and started sucking.  That didn't seem enough so I
began licking all around the top of it, too."

   "Amy, when I tap you, back away, and I'll finish myself by hand." I
didn't know what he meant, but I wasn't about to stop, so when he tapped me
I continued licking and sucking.  Suddenly something squirted into my
mouth. I didn't even know that males peed from their penises so I didn't
think of it being that.  It was thick and slippery, but I happened to
swallow, so most of it went down my throat immediately.  It was a little
salty, but there wasn't much taste so it didn't particularly bother me,
especially since George was telling me how perfect and beautiful I was and
how great what I had just done was.

   He lifted me away and said, "Amy, I know you've never done this before,
but I have to tell you that you did that as well as any adult woman I've
ever had."

   "Goody, that means we can keep doing it.  I love you licking me down
there, too.  Now how about you putting your thing inside me?  Oh, and what
was that stuff that came out of the end of your thing?"

   "I'd love to, Amy, but we have to wait another eight or ten years before
I'd fit.  When a man has an orgasm or 'cums' he ejaculates or squirts out
semen from his penis.  It's what contains his sperm.  When a man and a
woman have sex and he squirts that inside her vagina, if conditions are
right, she can get pregnant and they have a baby."

   I didn't understand most of what George was saying, but explained all of
it to me much more thoroughly in the following weeks.  "How about if you
just put the tip of your. . .  penis, into my vagina and squirt some stuff
in there?  How would that feel?"

   "That probably wouldn't accomplish too much, but I could lubricate
myself and slide the head of my penis along your slit from your clitoris to
your vagina until we both came.  That might work pretty well.  I'll have to
go to my bedroom to get some Vaseline."

   "Ok, let's do it, but I think there's some of that stuff in this
bathroom." (More of my exploring.) He checked and found a jar of it.  After
he put it all over his penis and along my slit, he got between my legs and
began to slide himself up and down along it, making sure he rubbed my
clitoris quite a bit.  When he got to the opening to my vagina he pressed
in just a bit.  That was when I lifted my hips and pushed against him.  He
slid inside me about two inches instantly.

   "I can't believe it.  I'm actually inside a five year old.  Geez, Amy,
you are extremely tight, but I actually fit.  Does it hurt?"

   "No, it feels good, but can you go in farther.  I think that would be
even better." He reached bottom at about three inches then put his hand
around the base of his penis so he wouldn't go in too far and began to
slide in and out.  This was a hundred times as good as that plastic thing.
The 'orgasm' I had just kept on and on, and it was better than anything,
especially when I could feel him squirting inside me.

   Finally, George stopped moving but he didn't pull out.  "I never felt
anything that good in my life.  How was it for you, Amy?"

   "I loved it, George.  Can we keep doing it now?"

   "Absolutely," and he began to move again.  We stayed joined until the
afternoon, and I was 'cumming' almost constantly.  George said he had at
least a half dozen orgasms while he was inside me.  During a break I told
him about the plastic thing and how I had used it.

   "That explains how you were open enough to take me into you, but you
were still exquisitely tight.  I never even imagined fucking a kid, much
less a five year old, but I'm willing whenever you are, Amy."

   "I want to do it every day, all day long, Ok?"

   "Ok, except for the housework and my writing.  My mother had left me a
trust fund that pays five thousand a month for the next twenty years.  I
didn't tell your mother about it because I don't think we'll be together
too long.  I've been depositing it in a retirement fund, but I think I'll
take out half of the monthly payment and say that's from my writing.  That
way I can forget about my editors, and we can be in bed together as much as
we want, at least during weekdays.

   As soon as we had breakfast and my mother left in the mornings, George
and I would go into Sara's room and fuck and suck all day long until about
three o'clock when we would get up and work as fast as we could to clean
the place up, do the wash, and make dinner for when my mother came home.

   I kept asking George to press inside me deeper.  If he pushed too hard
it hurt, but if he did it just a little hard it was ok.  I knew he was
getting in a little bit more, but then one day about a month after we
started, he suddenly slid way deep inside.  I could feel his hair around
his penis pressing against my lips down there, and it was entirely
different where the head of his penis was now.  "Oh my god, I think I've
penetrated into your little womb, Amy.  I can feel a really tight collar
sliding up and down my cock just behind its head." He kept pumping and when
he came, I could feel the semen on the walls of my uterus.  This was
another level of joy.

   George and I loved each other more than it seemed possible, and we
didn't even think of my mother.  She would come home, eat dinner, then do
paperwork on her laptop while we cleaned up.  She hardly talked to me, and
I didn't initiate any contact with her.

   One evening during dinner she said, "George, I've been offered a much
better job at a university about a hundred and fifty miles from here, and
I've decided to take it.  You'll have to sell this place and we can find
one close to my new work."

   George said with unaccustomed assertiveness, "No, Jordan.  I won't be
moving.  Amy and I can stay here and you can come home on weekends.  We can
find you an apartment there for week-nights."

   My mother looked shocked.  "Like hell you w. . ." Then she thought a
minute and said, "Hmmm, that might not be a bad idea.  And you'd be willing
to take care of Amy for me, and have me home only on weekends?" He said he
would.

   "Amy, how do you feel about this.  Do you want to move to San Diego or
stay here?"

   "I want to stay here.  I just started kindergarten and I already have
some friends.  I don't want to leave them.  Besides, I love George and he
needs someone to help around the house."

   She smiled.  "Well, if that's the way both of you want it, we'll do it.
You have yourself a little housekeeping assistant, George.  I'll drive down
there this weekend and find an apartment, then you can rent a trailer and
pack everything I'll need.  It'll take a few trips to bring the furniture
including Sara's bed." I didn't care for that because that bed was the
special place George and I made love every day.

   "No, you need smaller scale furniture in an apartment than in a big
house like this, and everything here is pretty old.  You should have new,
nice stuff so you can enjoy the apartment, and feel better if you have to
entertain any colleagues - say a dinner or cocktail party for some of the
people in your department, Jordan.  We can bring your clothes and stuff
down, but you should pick out new furniture and have it delivered."

   "You're much better at decorating than I am, George, and I'll be too
busy.  As soon as I get the apartment you can drive down and go to the
furniture and appliance stores for me." He agreed and in less than a month
the apartment was nicely furnished, and my mother was gone.

   He went back to working as an author while I was in kindergarten, then
we would hop into his bed and have sex until dinner, clean up, then spend
the rest of the night in his bed.  We often fell asleep with me on top of
him and him deep inside me.  Then we'd have a quicky, as he called it,
first thing when we'd wake up in the morning.

   It didn't take long before my mother was skipping weekends because of
'seminars'.  This meant we were able to stay in bed for both days all day
long just sucking, licking and fucking each other.  I know it sounds
boring, but George and I just couldn't get enough of each other.

   When I turned eight my mother announced she would be getting a divorce
because she had met someone in San Diego.  George was crushed, but I threw
such a fit that she was completely shocked.  "Young lady, you'll do as I
say.  That means you'll come to San Diego."

   "No I won't.  George is a much better parent than you are, and my
friends (I really didn't have any from school) are all here.  If you make
me go there, I'll keep running away and I'll tell them that you beat me. 
The mother of a kid in the class above me got put in jail because she was
abusing him.  The other kids said it was sexual, so I'll say you're doing
that."

   "Amy, you don't even know what that means."

   "Well, I can find out pretty easily from the older kids at school. 
Besides, he adopted me so he's not just a stepfather."

   "Look, George will have to get on with his life.  He can't have you here
after we split."

   "I don't mind," George said.  "I love her as if she were my biological
daughter, and she's no trouble at all.  In fact, she's a real help around
the house.  She can stay here as long as she wants and you agree."

   "And you should pay George child support if he's going to take care of
me." I hadn't been listening to her lawyer talk for years for nothing.

   "My, aren't you the little litigator?  Hmm, well there's some value to
doing it that way.  I'll write up custody agreement papers and set up a
schedule of payments for child support.  All right, if that's the way the
two of you want it.  You can come down and stay with us on weekends, Amy."

   I kept quiet.  I figured that after we got everything else settled, I
could skip as many of them as she skipped coming up here for weekends.  It
was even better than that.  After she got married to her new husband, who
was also a lawyer, they moved to Washington D.C.  I only had to visit them
for a week every summer.

   I'm now eighteen, on birth control, in my second year of college, still
having sex with George as often as we can, and very happy that I was a
blackmailing little bitch when I was five.

   ===

   This fictional story is (c) Copyright 2003 by C.  Dodgson.  ALL Rights
Reserved.  It may not be reproduced in any form for profit including use by
membership for fee Internet sites without the written permission of the
author.  It may be distributed or archived provided that there are no
charges and this warning notice is attached and the story is not changed or
abridged.  To comment send e-mail to chaz_dodgson at yahoo dot com.



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