It began one warm summer evening in the confines of the Franklin’s small home. Kelly Franklin was worried about her husband. Jeff was rarely late for dinner, and she hadn’t received word from him regarding his delayed arrival. The willowy dark-haired woman wiped her brow as she watched out the kitchen window. The longer she waited, the more nervous she became. And when Kelly Franklin was nervous, she started pacing.

She paced out of the kitchen and into the living room. There was no sign of her daughter. The fourteen-year-old had been cooped up in the house all summer, and Kelly was worried about that as well. She continued her march of habit, through the living room and down the hallway, stopping outside the girl’s door. It was white wood, and covered with a handmade sign that read ‘Evelyn’ in fanciful cursive. She had helped her make it earlier in the summer.

That was fun, Kelly reminisced, her mood lightening as she recalled the excitement of little Evie upon the successful completion of the sign. She was a small, pleasant girl who faced the world with curly dark hair and a curious smile.

Her daughter’s door was closed now, but not all the way. A tiny pinprick of light ran up the side where the door met the frame, and the latch had not clicked into place.

Normally, Kelly would have pushed the door open, calling, “Evie, dear? It’s almost time for supper, so go and wash your hands.”

Something stopped her now. She listened, waiting for some unknown sign, for Evie to call out, “Come in, Mommy!” But no noise penetrated the white wooden door.

What a strange feeling. Staying silent, she pushed the door gently inward, and stepped lightly through.

The room that greeted her eyes was the same as it had been since Evelyn redecorated it in June: pale green and white walls with a few decorative posters, a dark wooden desk on the right side of the room, and in the center, a large bed cloaked in a white bedspread pockmarked with tiny pink flowers.

And in the center of the bed was Evie.

She was lying down on top of the bedspread, her head facing away from the door, toward the headboard on the back wall. The light-haired girl was clad only in her matching pajama shirt and a pair of plain pink panties.

She must have fallen asleep waiting for dinner, the poor dear, Kelly thought. But that wasn’t it, because sleeping children don’t move — at least not like this.

Kelly stared as if in a stupor. It somehow reminded her of a video she had seen in high school about a rocket gearing up to blast off into space.

Evie let out a little exclamation of breath that broke her mother’s daze.

She took in the rest of the scene all at once. Her daughter’s wriggling body, her dark blue pajama pants strewn to one side of the bed, her hands sandwiched underneath her. Her little fingers were poking out from between her thighs, seemingly splayed in every direction at once.

Kelly’s hand rose to cover her mouth as she watched.

Evelyn hadn’t meant to wind up on her bed like this. She blamed boredom. One minute she was dancing around her room, the next she was collapsing face down onto her bedspread, and before she knew it, her pajama bottoms were off and she was straddling her hands as they gyrated beneath her.

It felt so good. Evie knew there were other things she should be doing, like helping mom with dinner, or cleaning her room, or studying the Bible verse her father had assigned for the week. But deep inside, she knew that none of those things would make her feel like this. So she kept doing it.

Jeffrey Franklin frowned as he opened the front door and walked into the kitchen. The smell of a delicious dinner was on the air, but his family was nowhere to be found. Where was his loving wife? His dutiful daughter?

“Dear? I’m home.”

I’ve told her I like to eat at six, he grumbled in his thoughts. He folded his coat and carelessly draped it over the back of his chair at the dining room table. Seeing no sign of Kelly or Evelyn, he took a quick detour into the kitchen, stopping to stand over a pot on the stove. After glancing from side to side and seeing no one, Mr. Franklin quickly opened the lid, reached a finger into the soup, and licked it clean.

Kelly didn’t know what to do. Or rather, she knew what she wanted to do. She wanted to rush forward to the bed, take hold of her daughter’s hands, and yank them out from between her bare legs. She wanted to tie each of Evelyn’s hands to a bedpost so she couldn’t touch herself even if she tried. She wanted to teach her a lesson in modesty, wanted to spank her as hard as she could while reading 1 Corinthians 6:19-20 in a very loud voice.

That’s what she wanted to do.

But is that what she should do?

As her daughter rocked atop clenched fists, Kelly considered. What would Jeff want her to do? Some sort of intervention, surely. She grimaced, considering what her husband’s reaction might be. Though their religious beliefs were shared, he was often the one who waded into the stricter stream of Christianity.

What did my mother do? Kelly was surprised to find herself thinking. She was resting one hand on the doorknob for support now as she watched Evie enthusiastically humping her hands.

Did I ever do this? Surely not...

But she suddenly found herself uncertain.

That one night...

Summer camp...

At the sleepover...

Mrs. Franklin shivered away the thoughts, frozen with indecision.

Evie was nearing the edge of something. Her breath came in short gasps now. She buried her face into her plump pillow and rolled her hips against her hands, which she clenched into little balled-up fists.

She had no idea why this friction felt so good, but she wasn’t about to stop and question it now.

The tip of her thumb pressed into her panties particularly forcefully, causing her to give a little cry of pleasure.

Evie hoped nobody could hear her. Did God hear her? Was he watching her even now, in the supposed privacy of her own bedroom? Omnipresence could only go so far, right?

She uncurled her fists and let her torso sink down into the bedspread, pressing her palms against her panties until she was sure they had somehow passed through the thin pink fabric and melded with the folds of skin between her legs.

Daddy says he’s always watching me, Evie remembered, somewhere deep within her mind. But maybe he’s looking away right now?

He heard something.

A cat? But the Franklin’s didn’t own a cat.

Jeff replaced the soup lid as sneakily as he had opened it and crept stealthily toward the noise. It had come from the direction of Evelyn’s bedroom, he was sure of it.

A few more moments and he was descending down the hallway, keeping his ears open. His daughter’s door looked to be open, but who was–

His breath caught in his throat; it was his wife, Kelly, standing there in the doorway. Not an intruder who had caused his young daughter to cry out in pain or terror.

He breathed a sigh of relief and joined his wife in the doorway.

“Honey,” he began, but stopped mid-sentence when he saw what it was that held his wife’s attention.

There, lying on the bed, was his precious, innocent daughter. His eyes took it all in: her bare legs, stretching toward each corner of the bed; her hands, pressed tightly up against her panty-covered crotch; her dark blonde hair, mussy and sticking up in the back.

Hearing him, Evelyn’s head shot up, her hands sliding out from underneath her as she rolled onto her side.

His wife appeared to be in a daze at first, but she recovered rapidly, stepping toward him and placing her hands on his shoulders as if to push him away from the scene he’d walked in on.

But Jeff wasn’t a man to be pushed and prodded. He knew what he’d seen, and he knew something had to be done.

What is he doing here?!

Kelly’s eyes widened as she turned to see her husband standing in the doorway behind her, his mouth agape as he looked past her to their daughter’s bed. Her mind raced and her body moved as if on its own.

“Welcome home,” she said, her voice hoarse after keeping so silent for the last five minutes. She tried to form her lips into a smile.

Jeff tore his eyes away from his daughter in order to meet hers. His face wasn’t hard to read.

“What–” he stammered. “What is going on here?”

Kelly swallowed, trying to regain her composure. “Evie and I were just about to start supper.” She gave a slight incline of her head, “You were late getting back. I was worried.”

Is he buying it?

And what exactly am I trying to sell?

She wrapped her arms around his shoulder and tried to lead him back into the hallway. He hesitated, clearly still processing what he had seen when he walked in.

“But she—”

“We’ll talk about it later,” she gave him a pointed look. “Right now, our dinner is waiting.”

After a long moment, he relented, allowing himself to be guided toward the kitchen.

“Yes, we will talk about it later. I wouldn’t want the soup to get cold.”

How did he know I made soup?

Evie sat up sideways and folded her hands in her lap in an effort to hide her panties as her father gawked. It was an awkward situation to be sure, and she was afraid he was about to burst into a long sermon or lecture. She didn’t know what it would be about, but she knew that look on his face: righteous indignation.

And when did mother get here? she wondered.

As her parents retreated from the doorway, she hurriedly pulled her blue pajama bottoms back on and ran a hand through her shoulder-length hair to tidy it. It was a fruitless effort. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror mounted on her wall as she climbed off the bed.

Looking back at her was a small face framed by blonde hair that curled a bit at the ends around her shoulders. Her hair always seemed to curl down here or stick up there. It never cooperated. She didn’t mind, though.

“Evie! Dinner!” came the sound of her mother’s voice down the hall.

“Coming!” Evie called back.

With one last tuck of her hair behind her ear, she hurried from the room and followed her father and mother to the dinner table.

They were having soup tonight.

Bleuph!

After dinner, Jeff cornered his wife in the kitchen while she loaded the dirty dishes into the dishwasher.

“What was that?” he asked, throwing his arms in the direction of Evie’s room.

“What was what?” answered his wife, giving him a wide-eyed, innocent look.

He knew better.

“You know exactly what. When I walked into her room, Evelyn was—” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. “She—”

“She was... ?”

He grimaced. She wasn’t going to make this easy for him. “She was,” he cleared his throat gruffly, then looked around and lowered his voice. “Pleasuring herself.”

She looked up at him in mock astonishment, “What?”

“Don’t act so surprised,” he admonished. “You were there when I came in.”

“Oh, yes,” she said, putting a hand to her mouth. “I had gone in to tell her that supper was ready, and—”

“It’s unacceptable,” Jeff set his fist down on the counter a little harder than he’d intended. “It’s not right. It’s immoral, and indecent, and—” He searched for words, “And I shudder to think what Pastor Karl would say.”

Pastor Karl had become their new spiritual leader last year. He was a younger man than their previous preacher, who came from the West coast with jet skis and four-wheelers in tow. Since he’d arrived, Mr. Franklin had found himself much more interested in religion.

“Dear,” Kelly said, placing a soothing hand over his and speaking in a smooth voice. “There’s no need for you to worry. I’ll talk to her about it, and make sure she knows that it’s not something for others to see.”

Had he misheard her?

“Not something for others to see? More like not something for any young lady to do!” He was getting angry now, he could feel it rising up in him. “You tell her that, make it clear that any behavior of this sort will not be tolerated.”

“Of course, dear, I–”

“Nevermind, we shall do it together. As a family.”

“Oh, do you think that’s really necessary? It’s more of a thing for her mother to talk about; a delicate matter, you understand.”

“There’s nothing delicate about it,” Jeff raised himself to his full height; he was enjoying having the moral high ground. “It’s not something to beat around the bush about. We will have a meeting. This weekend. After church. And that will be the end of it. Do I make myself clear?”

Kelly hesitated only for a moment before nodding, “Whatever you say.”

On Friday morning, Mrs. Franklin woke up and resolved to talk to her daughter herself. It wasn’t that she wanted to undermine her husband.

I just think this particular matter calls for a one-on-one conversation between us girls. He wouldn’t understand; Jeff’s always been very manly, even as a boy.

She glanced over at the alarm clock beside the bed.

It was still early.

I wonder if Evie’s awake yet.

Beside her, rhythmic snoring came from her husband. Kelly let her mind wander as she gazed at his sleeping form.

He was a good man. A good spouse. And a good lover, most of the time. Back when they were young and first getting to know each other — that had been an exciting time for both of them. The start of the spark. Was it fading now? She shook her head. Of course not, they still found ways to make love, scheduled blocks of time when Evie was out of the house or asleep.

Her thoughts drifted back to her daughter, to the scene she’d unknowingly made herself a participant in. Why did she do that?

Kelly couldn’t remember the last time she had done anything dirty without her husband there to guide her, teach her, show her the way. How did Evie know what to do?

Without really meaning to, she slipped her hand down inside her nightdress.

Evelyn wasn’t scared. Not really.

But her parents had been acting strange recently. Her father avoided eye contact, and when she had managed to catch his attention during dinner last night, he looked away and started tapping his foot on the floor very fast.

Her mother was the opposite. Evie had felt her staring at her multiple times over the past few days. When she turned her head to meet her mother’s gaze, she would find such a loving, haunted look in her eyes that made Evie think she was about to break into tears.

The nightmare had been the last straw: a fiery, rancid-smelling terror starring a God-like monster with eyes all over its body that never let you look away.

She wasn’t scared, but she thought her parents might appreciate some company as they waited for the sun to rise.

Clad in her purple pajamas, Evie tiptoed along the carpet toward her parents bedroom at the end of the hall.

Kelly inhaled deeply as her hand danced underneath her nightgown, a long, gasping sort of breath

So this is what it feels like.

Sex with Jeff was fine, but it wasn’t like this.

She was close to losing herself when a sound brought her to attention.

She froze.

Was that the door creaking?

“Morning,” came a groggy voice from beside her.

Kelly blinked as her husband sat up slowly and stretched.

He turned to her, a goofy grin on his face.

It vanished in an instant.

Her hand was still between her legs.

Kelly forced herself to move, rolling over on her side away from him.

But it was too late.

A moment passed, and then he was scooting toward her.

“Hey,” he said. “There’s no reason for that when you’ve got a man like me.”

She listened as he fumbled with his pajama bottoms.

“I’ll give you what you really want.”

Kelly winced as he took hold of her and drew her close.

Evie was scared now.

The noises coming from her parents bedroom told of a struggle. Animalistic grunts accompanied the sound of pillows being tossed about and the bed frame complaining about whatever was happening on top of it.

Curious despite herself, Evie peered through the cracked door again.

She still couldn’t see much.

Just shapes moving underneath the bedding.

Suddenly the sun peeked in through the window and she could see her father on top of her mother, groaning like a ghost. She couldn’t see her mother, except for strands of her hair splayed out across the white bed sheet like storm clouds in a blank sky.

She made a mad dash back down the hallway.

Safe in her own room, away from whatever demon had taken over her parents, she hoped they would be okay.

Nervous and excited, Evie crawled into bed.

But though she usually wasn’t awake this early, going back to sleep was out of the question.

Twenty minutes later, Kelly kissed Jeff goodbye as he headed off to work for the day. It was a chaste peck on the cheek. She told herself that she had given him enough passion that morning.

It wasn’t like him to demand sex on a whim like that — perhaps their daughter’s behavior had more far-reaching consequences than she’d anticipated.

Oh, Evie.

She resolved to talk with the girl this morning, but was now too early? The sun had barely risen and this was the time when she usually began preparations for breakfast. But Kelly found herself in an inspired mood, ready to find the words that would endear herself to her daughter while communicating her husband’s wishes.

Best to get it out of the way before breakfast.

Evie inhaled sharply, staring down her body. It was almost like watching someone else’s actions as her hand roamed over her white panties patterned with little pink hearts. But the feelings welling up inside of her felt very first person.

Clutching the bedspread with one hand as the other pressed into her panties, each poking fingertip elicited pleasure.

With a little gasp, she sank back onto her pillows.

Kelly didn’t know exactly what she was planning on saying, but she knew that she would find the right words in the moment, handed down to her by the divine.

She passed through the kitchen and the living room, and turned the corner into the hallway. Evie’s room was within her sights, the door hanging open, which was odd for this early hour.

Since when was her daughter an early riser?

Mrs. Franklin decided that it didn’t matter; now was the appointed time and even if her little girl had to be awoken and was hardly conscious, she would say her peace.

Now she was at the door.

She made to step inside, and—

Oh my God.

Evie could feel her face flushing, but this felt too good to consider stopping. She paused for a moment, patted her covered pussy softly, then again, a bit harder.

She gave a little moan and resumed rubbing, circling her fingers in tight motions over her underwear.

Her body pulsed beneath the thin fabric.

She kicked off her pajama bottoms, which had been hanging around her ankles, and turned onto her side so she faced the mirror mounted on her wall.

Evie regarded her reflection. Messy blonde hair fell across her reddening cheeks, and her mouth was open in a little ‘o’ shape. She still had on her Disney pajama top, but the bottoms had landed precariously on the edge of the bed, one leg reaching towards the floor. Her fingers were like a blur between her legs, picking up their pace with each step that brought her closer to—

To what? she wondered.

Kelly couldn’t believe her eyes. Or rather, she didn’t want to.

Coming to her daughter’s door, she had been filled with such hope. Now, she felt foolish for thinking a few sage words could fix all of their problems.

Evie was at it again.

She frowned as she watched her daughter’s fingers flying atop the new panties she had bought her last month. They were white with tiny pink hearts printed in a pattern across the cotton fabric.

Kelly had found them perfect at the time, a cute design for her innocent girl. Now she felt sick looking at them.

Evie didn’t seem to have noticed her mother’s intrusion from her position, stretched out on her bed, lying on her side.

Her helpful hand ceased its rubbing and moved upwards.

Kelly remained just outside the doorway as her daughter took the panties’ waistband in her hand and pulled, making a form fitting second skin over her small mound.

Material moved against flesh, causing her to cry out.

She sounds even younger when she moans, Kelly thought humorlessly.

She watched her daughter pull her panties into a wedgie, wriggling the tight fitting fabric against herself. Her head lolled and the fingers of her unoccupied hand clenched the bedspread as if holding on for dear life.

When her hips began rolling in rhythm with her hand, Kelly knew it was no good.

She couldn’t continue, not now. Not while the bed creaked and the bedspread shifted and the girl groaned.

Kelly turned. She felt stiff, as if she was unthawing after being frozen in ice for years.

Her daughter’s noises followed her down the hallway as she walked back to the kitchen.

By the time Sunday rolled around, Evelyn had put the events of last week in the back of her mind. Her parents seemed like themselves again.

Her mother called through the bathroom door, “Don’t dawdle or we’re going to be late!”

Yes, that was definitely her mother.

“I won’t,” she said, reaching over to the tub and turning on the faucet.

The water rained down like a waterfall from a storybook. She watched it dreamily as she undressed. By the time she pulled off her last pink-and-white sock, the bathtub was steaming invitingly.

Evie knew that the best way to get acclimated to the hot water was to immerse herself in it entirely. She stepped over the smooth white wall, sank to her bottom, and spread her legs out toward the waterfall.

Her hands curled in her lap as the warm water rose around her.

After a minute, she laid down on her back and scooted down so that she was directly beneath the faucet.

She squeezed her eyes shut as the waterfall cascaded between her legs.

“Are you ready?” Jeff asked his wife, annoyance creeping into his voice.

She shook her head, distracted, searching for some piece of jewelry on the nightstand.

“I told you I have to be there early today,” he reminded her. “Pastor Karl said he would meet me before the service.”

That got her attention.

“What?”

“We’re going to discuss—” He tilted his head toward the bathroom, where their daughter was currently preparing for the sabbath.

“Oh,” said Mrs. Franklin, pausing with her hand halfway inside a dresser drawer. “Are we?”

“Well, we are,” Mr. Franklin clarified. “Karl and I. Not you. If we get there in time, that is.”

Kelly’s face fell, but she recovered quickly.

“I’ll go see what’s keeping her.”

Evie relaxed into the warm water and let it cover her all the way up to her chin. She would’ve liked to have remained beneath the falling water forever, but their bathtub could only hold so much water at once.

She exhaled, spreading her arms and legs wide to see if she could float on the surface. She willed her body to rise, blocking out everything but the water and her natural buoyancy.

Just as she felt herself starting to ascend, her mother’s sharp voice pierced her concentration.

“Evelyn? Is everything okay in there?”

Startled, Evie sloshed up to a sitting position before answering.

“Yes.”

Her mother wasn’t convinced. “Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

“Are you out of the bath yet?”

“No.”

“Then get out; we’re going to be late.”

“But I still need to use soap,” she protested.

Silence.

Evie could sense her overbearing presence, could practically see her leaning against the locked door, tapping a finger on the wood.

“Well, hurry it up,” Mrs. Franklin called. “I want to see you dressed in five minutes.”

As her mother’s footsteps faded away, Evie sighed and reached for the soap.

“Well?” Jeff asked as his wife returned to the room. He was straightening his tie in the mirror above the dresser.

“She’s still in the bath,” Kelly said, attempting a rueful smile. Kids, am I right?

He didn’t think it was something worth smiling about. “Of all the Sundays to be running behind schedule,” he muttered, plopping down on the edge of the bed.

He watched his wife finishing her own preparations.

“So you wanted to meet with the Pastor?” she asked offhandedly as she selected a pair of purple pumps from the closet.

“No, dear, he was the one who suggested meeting,” Jeff scratched his forehead. “I called him yesterday to discuss our situation, and—”

“You told him about that?”

“And he said this wasn’t the first time a thing like this has happened in the church to girls of a certain age. In fact, he said he has something to give us that will help. Can’t imagine what it is, but he’s bringing it to church this morning.”

Evelyn liked using soap.

She sat on the edge of the tub with her feet in the water and took the pure white bar in her hands, rubbing it until big frothy bubbles formed and started falling into the bathwater below.

Then she ran her hands over her body, starting with her feet. The feeling of soap squeezing between her toes usually made her giggle, but she didn’t want to give her mother the impression that she was dilly dallying should she happen to overhear.

Her legs were next. She spread soapy bubbles up her shins, across her knees, and around her thighs. They made her skin feel so smooth.

Plus it smells nice, she thought. But I’d better hurry.

She moved on, lathering up her fingers and rubbing gently between her legs. Little wisps of hair, so blonde it was almost transparent, were starting to grow, so she decided to clean extra thoroughly here.

Only her feet were in the water, but she felt warm all over as she worked her fingers through the sensitive folds of skin that comprised her vulva.

She knew it was called that because her mother had told her so, a long time ago. She patted her vulva and frowned, remembering. Had there really been a time when her mother had talked freely of such things?

As if answering a summons, she heard her mother’s footsteps fast approaching.

She finished quickly, running her hands over her stomach, up her chest, and around her neck and shoulders, finishing on her ears. Everyone always said they stuck out a bit too far, but that just made them easier to clean.

“You should be getting out by now,” her mother called.

“I am,” Evie answered, splashing herself off and reaching for a blue towel from the rack.

“I’ll be in the car,” came the sound of her father’s voice, a bit gruffer than usual. She could hear him walking out the front door, very stompily.

She stepped out of the tub and onto the bathroom tile, working the towel around her to dry herself.

“Evie?” her mother sounded a bit different now that it was just the two of them.

“Hang on,” she called, searching for the pile of clothes that she suddenly remembered had been left on her bed.

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

“I forgot my clothes. They’re on my bed.”

“I’ll get them,” said Mrs. Franklin, almost eagerly.

While she waited, Evie rubbed the towel vigorously around her head before using it to dry the rest of her body.

She examined herself in the foggy mirror. Her blonde hair looked like it usually did, as if she had just walked through a windstorm. Her chest was as flat as it had been last Sunday, her pink nipples standing out due to the cold that comes after a warm bath. But her body was clean and bright, scrubbed free of any impurities.

Satisfied, she sat down on the edge of the tub, a hand falling to rest casually between her legs. She absentmindedly stroked her vulva as she awaited her mother’s return.

Kelly felt a shiver run up her spine as she stepped into her daughter’s bedroom. Sunlight streamed through the windows, making bright patterns on the floor that reminded her of the patterned panties Evie had been wearing on Friday.

She stood alongside the bed, tracing her fingers over the bedspread. The pile of clothes lay folded neatly on the bed, but she took no notice.

She went to the laundry hamper, digging past soiled shirts and wadded up socks until she found them. The pink hearts seemed to sparkle in the sun. If she expected to find worn creases or damp stains, some evidence of illicit activity, she was disappointed. Held to the light, they looked just like any ordinary pair of panties.

Becoming aware of the absurdity of the situation, Kelly quickly stuffed her daughter’s undergarments back into the hamper.

She lifted the folded clothes from the bed — a pair of dark pantyhose and Evie’s favorite Sunday dress, a sleek black frock — and took one last look around the room.

Just a short while ago, the walls had been covered with drawings. Kelly wasn’t sure if her daughter’s talents with a crayon were above average or not, but the girl loved to make pictures.