Author's note. This could have been titled "Love of my daughter - Ch 3" from which it follows. On reflection, the author considered that the principal theme is Fetish more than Incest, although the incest content remains. The previous stories in the series are published in the Fetish category. Enjoy.
From our first, uneasy explorations into bizarre games, and my daughter's deflowering, our relationship deepened and developed. Over the weeks my daughter Lauren's manner became progressively more confident, or perhaps more sure. In our games she took the dominant role, but without the need to exercise domination or enforce subservience on my part. In other respects I remained head of our house, a position that we both readily accepted and were very comfortable with. It was as though the roles we so easily slipped into freed us from any need to assert our status in our normal activities, and allowed us to explore each other's minds and bodies without obstruction.
Lauren used several devices to reinforce and build up the urge to indulge my weird fantasies, to take pleasure in debasing myself by the vilest, most humiliating acts, and to treat it as perfectly normal to perform in front of her those body functions that almost everyone does in private.
It became a ritual each morning that Lauren would come naked, carrying a pot of tea to me as I stirred from my sleep, so I would be all the more alert for her. She would pour out for each both us and then slip into bed beside me so we drank together. I normally slept nude now and was not self-conscious to be naked with her. After our tea today she kissed me on the mouth, pushing her tongue deep inside and with her fingertips caressed my warm body, paying special attention to my breasts and between my legs. As usual, she took the dominant role, touching my body the way a man would, and the sports training she did made her body was lean and firm. I wished she could have been wearing a strap-on, so I could go down on it and then have it inside me. I even fantasised about my own daughter taking me hard like that, raping my neglected love hole.
Instead she kissed and caressed, almost worshiping my hungry body. Her hands were becoming more and more familiar with my body, and I felt the tingling building up deep inside my womanly core. I parted my legs to encourage her to penetrate my vagina but she was content just to make me wet. Not bringing me to orgasm but feeling my warmth and wetness. I had masturbated before going to sleep that night and so my vagina and labia were already damp and there were drying patches on the sheets. After this I was ready for the bathroom, by now feeling a strong but enjoyable pressure in my bladder. The morning continued .....
"Mom, I'm going to sit on the toilet and I want you to stand in the shower with your legs slightly apart, face me and gently run your hands over your body. Grind your hips and act real slutty. Stroke your lovely big titties and get those nips nice and stiff, then stroke your belly and around your pussy, but keep it uncovered so I can see when you make yourself come. Then piss into the tub, like you do in the showers after your gym class. Show me how a big grown up lady likes to piss standing up when she thinks nobody is there to see."
My vaginal secretions were already making me wet inside as I contemplated this grossly perverted act and I knew Lauren could see my cunt juice tricking out. Despite my desire I blushed with shame, and scolded myself for admitting this act, which I liked to perform privately, not realising then that I would have to debase myself by doing so while she watched. The embarrassment added to my excitement.
"Oh Lauren, I feel so humiliated to let you see, can't I pull the curtain across?"
Yet a deep, shameful part of me wanted to make this disgusting display. Slowly I caressed my breasts, my hands gradually spiralled in to my aureoles, stimulating the chicken flesh bumps, and then very lightly touching my nipples with my fingertips I made them stand out proud and hard. My hands wandered to me belly, circling and teasing the little hollow button before moving to my mound and pubes, the tender skin shaven completely smooth. I felt myself becoming warm, then warmer still and my movement stronger. I began to gyrate my hips and grind my palms into my pelvis. A parted my legs wider and started to feel the familiar pulses emanating from the core of my womanhood. Gutteral sounds, grunts escaped my lips and I rapidly reached climax.
"Oh fuck, Lauren, I cumming! Watch me cum! My slutty cunt's all wet, really soaking! Yes, oh fuck!! See mommy cum, Lauren, watch! .... Aahh!! ..... Aaaaggghhhh!!! ...Oh, I'm cumming, I'm cumming!! .... I'm going to piss now! Watch mommy piss in the tub, like she does after gym." I adopted the dirtiest pose I could, thrusting out my pelvis and spreading my cunt lips wide to display better my frontal exit. "Oh that's nice ..... Look, it's all yellow .... Watch mommy piss in the tub ......" I shook slightly as my bladder contracted and shot a yellow jet of urine from my pee-hole. "Mmmmmmm, yes ...... oh, oh that's nice ..... oh yes, mommy feels better now ..... MMMMMmmm .... MMmmm ......"
As usual Lauren asked if my bowels were full, which still made me embarrassed. But I was not full enough then to go. I would be able to hold it in.
"No darling, I'm OK for now, perhaps later."
"That's good, mom, because today is going to be a bit different. You know how sometimes you cannot hold your stool and end up shitting your knickers."
I knew only too well. Just a few days ago I had disgraced myself on the way back from the shops, filling my full-cut knickers quite abundantly while returning home from the shops. I blushed at the memory of entering the house with a shopping bag in each hand and a huge load straining to escape the panty covering. As soon as I was in I rushed to the bathroom and stripped down to my panties. Lauren was already home from school, and she took great pains to remove my shit-filled knickers and to clean up where my excrement was plastered over my buttocks, my cleft and my dark hole. She had suggested then that I seek medical advice to prevent such accidents, and I had agreed, wishing to avoid the shame of perhaps soiling my panties while out somewhere in public.
"I have arranged for you to visit a clinic, to see if you need treatment with your anal control. I left a note on the table, telling you where to go, and I put the clothes out for you to wear."
Lauren set off for school soon after, leaving me with my thoughts, and the instruction note. I was to call the clinic to arrange the time of appointment and receive further instruction. I was intrigued by this new development. Increasingly over the last weeks, Lauren had encouraged me to cut down on sweets and fatty foods, and eat more fruit and vegetables, together with high fibre bread and cereals. Overall I felt fitter and slimmer, the new diet allied to my regular visits to gym class. But my bowels were becoming more active, and the high-fibre diet was adding bulk. To try and avoid over frequent bowel movements, I was exercising my pelvic muscles, working on the tone of my sphincter, which Lauren now checked each day during her regular inspection of my anus. Nevertheless, I could not always manage to retain my stool the whole days until she returned from school.
Each afternoon I was to perform the act of defecation in front of her. She would examine this private body function very closely as I stood with my legs apart and on either side of her as she sat on the toilet seat, clad just in her long white PVC bib apron and a pair of latex gloves. This degrading ritual was intensely humiliating for me, yet exciting as well. And I knew Lauren's love for me was deep and strong; she always was most tender with me at this time, touching me gently and speaking in gentle, reassuring tones.
"Oh mom, I know how embarrassing it must be for you to do this. But you mustn't be ashamed of what you are doing, we all have to empty our bowels and you know I have to watch to see that you are able to do it properly. And you mustn't be bothered about getting my apron dirty, I wear this special one which is made to get dirty and it cleans up easily."
Afterward, she thoroughly cleaned my anus and between my buttocks using baby wipes and finally dry me with balls of cotton wool.
"Is that better now," she would ask, "does mommy feel nice and comfortable and clean?"
"Yes, Honey, Mommy feels more comfortable now she got rid of all that filth from inside her. Mommy loves to poop why Lauren watches so she knows I got it all out properly."
When I was finished she would clean the dark crevice between my buttocks, working right down to my anus. Then she would take off her soiled apron and discard her gloves, and would caress my nipples and touch me between my legs, softly teasing my labia with her fingertips until my vagina began to ooze its secretions, and then gently work her fingers in and out of my love canal, going deep inside almost to my womb as she slowly finger-fucked me to orgasm ......
I came out of these thoughts and re-read the note, and put on the garments Lauren had left for me. Today she had chosen a white cotton blouse with floral embroidery and a mid-length navy skirt. There was a change in her choice of underwear for me. Instead of the plain white predominantly cotton bra and panties, she had selected a sheer bra, fine mesh but little cream-coloured lace panels with floral motifs near the edging. A pair of stay-ups in the same colour and matching lace went with them. Also the notes suggested that I plug my anus with a tampon, to avoid any embarrassing accidents, and so as not to soil my pretty panties. My aureoles showed most clearly and my nipples pressed against the thin material. The bra was paired with a medium-cut matching panty, which again displayed lace panels but was almost transparent at the crotch, thus almost revealing my vulva. I observed myself in the long mirror, wearing this most revealing set, and saw myself as a woman whom men, and women, would desire. In no time my juices had seeped out and dribbling into the material. For once Lauren had picked a white cotton underskirt, to provide a little more modesty and comfort, since the lower undergarment left me as though naked down there. A pale blue crocheted sleeveless cardigan completed the outfit.
I arranged the appointment for midday, and so decided to have an extended breakfast, a large bowl of cereal, several slices of wholemeal bread toast and honey, fresh fruit, and plenty of coffee. The doctor insisted that I do not empty my bowels beforehand, as I would need to produce a stool specimen, as well as a urine sample. As it was, then, I was distinctly full when I arrived at the smart, discreet location in a quiet residential street on the edge of town. I was nervous, wondering how I would be received. I was glad that the tampon seemed to be effective but wondered what the doctor would think. Surely it was not usual for a grown woman to ask for her bowel and anal functioning to be checked, and treated if necessary. Would the doctor regard me as strange, or perverted?
On the door a sign said to enter, and I passed down the entrance hall and entered the reception room. The lady at the desk stood and introduced herself as Dr. Baxter, whom I had spoken to earlier. She looked a few years older than me, perhaps in her mid-forties, and had fairly short dark straight hair, cut simply but tastefully. She was of barely average height and wearing a white lab coat which fitted her slim figure closely, though not tightly, and which came to several inches above her knees. She was tanned and looked supremely fit, and her manner gave the impression of calm confidence, understanding and sympathetic.
The consultation with Dr. Baxter was more like an interrogation, and her questions more searching.
"I need to gather your details for my records, and also to help with any treatment I need to build up a picture of you in order to decide whether I should be fitted with an anal plug, and what type." She first asked me for my date/place, etc., and entered the information on her computer. This helped me to relax, and I was glad to talk on such neutral subjects. The question then gave way to more intimate matters. She wanted to know about my diet, how often I urinated and opened my bowels. And then about my sexual habits - whether I was straight or bi, if I currently had a sexual partner, whether I masturbated, how often and where. She asked more about my relationship with Lauren. Dr Baxter was particularly attentive to those items, even asking about whether I was always alone. I did not want to admit that I masturbated in front of her, I pissed in the shower, sometimes while my daughter observed, and even defecated while she watched. But I revealed these perverted and degrading acts to the doctor's careful and patient probing, feeling humiliated and shamed.
"I have looked at all your records, and you display no sign of any bowel disorder or abnormality. Why then do you think you need to wear an appliance to stop yourself from voiding your bowels?"
So it was that with much reluctance, and only after quite painstaking probing of my daily habits, I revealed to her that each day I try to retain my stool until Lauren returned home. Then she would invite me into the bathroom to evacuate while she observed, or sometimes she would wait until she deemed the time was right for me for me to perform. I was most ashamed to admit such a degrading habit as this to the cool and ostensibly no-nonsense doctor.
She went on. "So Ms Jenkins, you have already admitted to me you are engaged in a lesbian relationship with your daughter. Am I also correct in believing that you voluntarily perform various perverted acts, like demonstrating your intimate body functions. This must be very humiliating for you, but I think you must obtain sexual gratification from that humiliation, those acts that degrade and debase you the most"
Shame-faced, I admitted that these filthy activities now were necessary to satisfy my sexual appetites.
"I'm sorry, Doctor Baxter. I expect you regard that as totally despicable and I should stop."
"No Ms. Jenkins, not at all. And thank you for answering so honestly. I realise it must have been difficult for you to tell me what you do. It is unusual but not disturbingly so. A lot of people secretly desire to perform intimate body functions in front of someone they love. Your daughter is eighteen now, that is old enough to be an adult, and clearly you have a lovely relationship. As long as what you do together does not harm anyone, including both of you, and neither of you feel guilty then it is perfectly fine. I talked at length with Lauren when she arranged for me to see you, and she is obviously an intelligent and responsible young woman. She is concerned about how you feel and does not want you to be embarrassed, or for you to disgrace yourself in public. The most important thing is that you should not feel ashamed. I think we had better examine you now and then decide what to do."
"I believe, Ms. Jenkins, you are being truthful, so I agree to fit you with an anal plug, here we call it an excretory control appliance. But first I must warn you that such an appliance, once worn for more than a few days, brings about a permanent change to your capacity for anal control. The nervous reaction that you developed as a child during potty training will become dulled, and eventually lost, while your sphincter will be weakened and will no longer be able to resist the pressure to void. In other words you will always have to wear it."
I pondered for a few moments, on the import of what she had said. The idea of having my anus filled by such an implement appealed to me, as well as not having to worry about defecating unintentionally.
"If I have to wear the appliance permanently, will that prevent me from partaking in normal activities, like riding a bicycle, swimming, aerobic classes?"
Dr. Baxter was reassuring. "Not at all. Certain competitive sports and specialised activities will be prohibited, like advanced gymnastics, but the modern type of appliance is designed to permit normal physical pastimes. The device is quite discreet and does not protrude from your anal orifice. In fact it looks a bit like a string panty, of rather neat design. You just have to be careful to make sure you have evacuated if you have to remove it temporarily before you undress in a communal locker room. But first I need to examine you to ensure there is no physical reason that prohibits you from wearing it, and also to carry out some tests to determine the right model."
She pressed a buzzer to summon her assistant. "The tests will take some time to complete, so I have arranged for my assistant to perform all the routine preliminaries. I should tell you that some of them are somewhat intimate, some people find them rather embarrassing, but absolutely necessary for your health and comfort. My assistant is a young nurse with special training and you will find she is particularly skilled, gentle and most sympathetic. I am sure you will feel completely at ease with her."
A young and attractive nurse arrived after just a few moments. She was tall, about 5'10" and slim without being not skinny. Her light blonde hair colour looked paler than her clear, honey-hued complexion, and was straight and cut rather short. She had blue eyes and a pretty almost roundish face, with a slightly upturned nose, and seemed devoid of any makeup. She looked to be in her early twenties and was very attractive, yet surprisingly she appeared unaware of this. She was wearing a pale blue nurse's cotton tunic and a white full-bib cotton apron, starched and spotless, and attached by press studs. The uniform fitted her closely, and looked as if might have been a size small. The profile of her breasts was apparent and suggested that she was not wearing a bra. The most remarkable thing was her demeanour of absolute subservience.
"Nurse Schloppfarth, you've seen the file for Ms. Jenkins." The doctor spoke the nurse's name with strong emphasis, almost making it sound dirty. "She's here to be fitted for an ECA, so you know the routine. Ms. Jenkins has not consulted with us before so I would like you to carry out the complete set of items on the test list. Take your time, nurse, and be absolutely thorough and include every detail."
Dr. Baxter then paused a moment, as if for thought.
"Nurse, one thing more. I am pleased to see you changed your uniform after the last examination, as required by procedures. But did you remember to shower, and put on fresh panties as well? You know you and your apparel must always be absolutely clean when you examine each new client. Perhaps I had better check, so slip them off for me"
The young nurse was obviously caught by surprise, and could not hide her embarrassment. However she complied without demur even though it must have been most humbling to demean herself like that in front of a new client. She reached under the hem of her dress and pulled off the white cotton undergarment and handed it to the doctor.
"I soiled the other pair slightly as I was examining Mr. Carnforth, so I thought I should change into a fresh pair."
Her speech was strongly accented. German, I presumed.
"Good these a perfectly clean. Ms. Jenkins won't want to be examined by a nurse wearing filthy underwear. But I think you had better fetch the soiled pair for me to see what sort of state you got them into. By the way, I forgot to ask Ms. Jenkins to bring an extra pair of panties, so I trust you have at least one clean pair she can use. Please fetch another clean pair as well. But first let me see you pull these back on. I want you to lift your skirt right up so I can see they are on properly."