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Archive name: prison.txt (M/f, nc, inc, preg)
Authors name: SilentAllTheseYears
(silentalltheseyears@hushmail.com)
Story title : Daughter's Prison
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2002. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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Daughter's Prison (M/f, nc, inc, preg)
by SilentAllTheseYears (silentalltheseyears@hushmail.com)
***
Her father constantly molests a young daughter over many
years until he finally gets her pregnant.
***
My name is Janine Simms, Janey for short. I am 30 years
old. I live here in Georgia, in the midst of the Savannah
marshlands. I live with my younger brother Timmy, and my
daughter Hope. We live a quiet but peaceful life.
For all these years, I have been silent about what had
happened to me, trying to forget; but of late, the
memories have been coming back, filling me with haunting
pain. I figure the only way I can ever escape these
memories is to tell my story to someone else. And
so...here's my story.
I grew up in the woods of Pennsylvania, the eldest
daughter of Rupert and Erin Simms. I had one younger
brother; Timothy-he was the most adorable little sibling.
Our parents were normal rural parents.
Sundays we'd all attend service like all the other
families in the area, Mom was an active member of the
church choir. We were everything you'd expect from the
average American family. That all changed during the
winter of my fourteenth year. Mom got stricken with
cancer, at the young age of 36. I had just turned 14
years old, and Timmy was 3. It was now only us two kids
and dad.
When Mom died, we all took it really hard. But we never
really shared our grief together, as a family. Timmy was
only 3, so he was too young for her death to really
impact him, and as for Dad, well; he just got really
moody, and spent most of his time outside the house.
While he had never really been the warmest father to us,
even while Mom had been alive, he was almost distant now.
Many nights, he would come home drunk, the smell of booze
and cigarettes all over his clothing. For the most part,
it was just me and Timothy at home. I wound up having to
do most of the housework. I was only 14 then, and most of
the times, it was just us two fending for ourselves.
My body started to really develop about the time I turned
fifteen. I think Dad also became aware of my development
then, because I began to notice him eyeing my chest-at
first furtively, but then more and more openly as time
went on. We were never really a cuddling type of family,
so I knew things weren't quite okay when he started
asking me for hugs, or when Timmy and I would be watching
a movie in the living room, and he'd walk in, sit on his
couch, and pat his lap and ask for his little girl to sit
in Daddy's lap.
A few months after my fifteenth birthday, I'd come home
from school to find him still there, snoozing on the
couch with a newspaper and an opened can of beer.
Usually, he would have left for work about a half-hour
earlier, and I would come home to find Timmy sleeping. I
would usually do my homework and cook dinner for Timmy
and me. Dad usually got home around midnight. For some
reason, he was hadn't left for work today. It turned out
that his construction company had laid him off for
drinking on the job.
Well, from that point on, he was at home a lot of the
time. After a few weeks, I started getting worried about
when he would find a job, and then the weeks turned to a
month. When we were really low on money for groceries, I
finally got up the courage to ask him if he'd found a job
yet, since we needed money for groceries. Rather than
reply, he'd reached into his pocket and tossed a check at
me, before turning back to the television and his can of
beer. It was an envelope, containing a welfare check for
the month of July.
With Dad hanging around the house all the time now, I
began to feel more and more uncomfortable with his roving
eyes. He started commenting frequently on how I'd grown
into such a fine woman; meanwhile his eyes would be
staring at my chest or my buttocks. He took to finding
opportunities to brush against me 'accidentally'.
Once, after dinner, while I was washing the dishes, he
came up behind me, asking if I needed help with the
dishes. Before I could refuse, he'd slipped his arms
under mine from behind, and was pressed up against me, so
that I had to lean forward toward the sink. With a start,
I could feel the heat of his groin right up against my
buttocks. I remember gasping, and him chuckling, as he
gave a quick grind of his groin against me. Then he'd
left the room.
By the time I turned sixteen, my father had still not
found a job. Every now and then he'd go for interviews,
just to satisfy the welfare agencies, to show them he was
earnest in trying to find employment, but he stayed
unemployed, and lounged around at home. Dad became less
subtle in his overtures toward me. Frequently, he'd
comment on how nicely my chest was filling out, or he'd
eye my crotch with such intense scrutiny right in front
of me. At every opportunity, he tried to cop a feel of my
breasts, or grope my buttocks, always trying to make it
seem like an accidentally.
"Dad, I'm trying to doing homework... " or "Dad...I need
to cook dinner..." These became my frequent excuses to
get him to stop. However they became less and less
effective. As the months went by, he started getting
bolder and more demanding.
Once, on a Friday night, while watching TV after dinner,
after Timmy had gone to bed, he said "Jane, come here and
sit on your Daddy's lap. I haven't hugged my little girl
in such a long time."
The way he said it, in that tone of voice, I knew he
wouldn't take no for an answer. I remember walking
reluctantly over to him, and then facing away from him,
gently seated my right buttock on his left thigh, so that
I was only partially up against him. Even then, I could
feel his hairy thighs against mine, since I was wearing
shorts at the time. What came next was a shock for me,
since he had never done anything so obviously sexual
before.
I remember gasping out loud, startled, almost losing
balance, when suddenly, his thick hands were encircling
my hips. Chuckling, he lifted me high and up and twisted
me around until I was facing him, with my legs to each
side of him. Grunting appreciatively, his hands still
tight around my waist, he pulled me downward onto him,
settling my pelvis down right against his, so that our
crotches were fused together.
Now, both my legs were to each side of his legs, so that
I was in effect, straddling him. Gasping in fright, I
tried to lift myself off of him, but I had no purchase to
push against. My feet were off the floor, and when I
braced my arms across the arms of the couch to lift
myself, he just pulled down on my hips, settling me down
again.
"Now that's a good girl," he moaned, as he grounded
himself against me. Through his boxer shorts and my own
shorts, I could feel the hard bulge of his manhood. As he
crushed my crotch against him, he began humping back and
forth. With each forward push of his hips, he'd pressed
down on my hips, so that I could feel his bulge through
the thin material of our clothing.
"Daddy! Let me go! I'm too old to be sitting on your lap!
Please!" I whispered frantically, in tears. I didn't want
to wake up Timothy, but I was scared to death.
"Soon... baby... soon..." his words began to come in
gasps, as his buckling quickened in pace. In
embarrassment, I could feel his penis through his shorts.
It felt huge. His constant rubbing caused a wedgie in my
own shorts, and I could feel my panties riding up into my
crotch, between my lips. After maybe a minute of heated
crotch grinding, he groaned loudly. His hands came up
behind my back, pressing our bodies close together. I
could feel my breasts mashed flat against his massive
chest, even as he gluing our crotches together.
The large bulge of his manhood, which I could feel
pressed through the thin material of my shorts and his
boxer shorts, was wedged right up against my crotch.
Stunned, I could feel it throbbing wildly, as if it had a
life of its own. I could feel the heat of his groin
through the thin layers of clothing, as it spasmed.
Groaning, he held me motionless against him, while he
finished his orgasm.
After a few minutes, his grip on me slackened, as he
exhaled noisily, leaning back onto the couch. Sobbing, I
remembered scrambling off his lap, and running up the
stairs to my room, and quickly locking the door behind
me. It was only when I was inside, huddled on bed, that I
realized my entire crotch area was all damp.
I knew from the sex education classes at school what had
happened, but the reality of it didn't make it any more
palatable. Removing my shorts, I examined my panties.
They were soaked wetly with my dad's cum too, so that
they looked sheer, making my enflamed vaginal lips
visible. I remember thinking that I had my father's sperm
soaking through my shorts and panties, and my crotch was
now damp with it. Scared, I rushed to the bathroom and
wetted a towel to wipe myself clean.
The next day, Dad acted like the whole thing had never
happened. And as far as I was concerned, it didn't
either. Incidents like these, I learned to put in the
back of my mind.
These incidences didn't stop though. Rather, they became
more and more frequent. He might be passing by me in the
hallway, then without warning, he would reach forward
with one hand, cupping my crotch and wriggling his
fingers through my pants to massage me down there. Or
other times, when I'd come out of the bathroom cloaked in
a towel, he'd be there waiting, eyeing me.
As soon as I walked passed him, he would pull on my
towel, leaving me naked in the hallway. I always ran into
my room then, amidst his chuckling. Thankfully, he never
pursued. I learned then to take my showers when he was
asleep, or he was outside the house.
The months went by. Summer approached, and I neared the
completion of my junior year of high school. I continued
to do fairly well in school, usually getting all A's with
an occasional B in phys ed. or music. I didn't have any
close friends. To be honest, I didn't want any. I
couldn't invite them over for fear of them seeing my Dad,
and I didn't have any time to hang around after school,
because I had to watch Timmy.
Dad's perverse little games continued. Things got worse
when he began subscribing to all these smut magazines. I
remember the first time I came across one of his porno
mags, wrapped up in some brown paper. I'd been curious
about it, but seeing that it was addressed to my father,
and that it wasn't a household bill that I had taken the
responsibility for writing checks for, I left it alone.
Later the next day, coming home from school, I found the
opened magazine, sprawled across his belly as he lay
snoring on the living room couch. Curious, I tiptoed to
the edge of the couch, leaning forward to take a closer
look.
"Family Taboos" the title read. Across the front cover, I
could see a picture of a young brunette girl, who looked
to be in her mid-teens, on all fours on a bed. Towering
behind her, an older man had his arms clasped around her
waist. He looked to be rutting into her. "Exclusive
photos of father-daughter incest!" the banner read across
the cover, artfully shielding the nipples of the girl.
I must have been staring at the cover for a long time,
because the next thing I know, when I finally took my
eyes off the page, I glanced up to find him staring right
back at me. I could feel myself burning red, embarrassed
at having been caught looking at his filth.
He gazed at me with an amused look for a brief moment.
"So, did you like looking at Daddy's magazine? Does it
get you all hot and bothered?" he chuckled?
Furious at myself at having gotten caught, and hating him
with a vengeance, I turned around to leave, but his hands
quickly shot out, gripping my wrist tightly. Sitting
upright on the couch, he yanked me by the wrist, pulling
me onto his lap.
"It's okay, Daddy's not angry at your for reading his
stuff. In fact, I wanted to show you something I'm sure
you'll find very nice." his voice had turned thick. With
one arm around my waist, holding me onto his lap, he
flipped the magazine over to the centerfold page with his
free hand.
"Take a look at this here, Janey," he said, placing the
open magazine on my lap. Anything to get this over with,
I sighed in exasperation and look down on the picture. It
showed the girl from the cover. She was on her back,
lying on a bed, with her 'father' above her. Her knees
were pressed back towards her head, and her legs were
resting on her father's shoulders. My eyes centered
downward, and I gasped involuntarily, seeing where her
father's immense penis was splitting her vagina.
I swallowed. My thoughts were a blur of confusion. This
was the first time I had ever seen the sex act taking
place. The centerfold shot was raw and unsubtle. Despite
my revulsion over what was happening, I couldn't help but
feel a tingle in my loins, at seeing such a graphic
display of the sex act. Collecting myself, I spoke "Dad,
I really have to go up and do my homework now." I
squirmed in his lap, feeling his arousal poking up at me.
Chucking, he tossed the magazine onto the coffee table,
relaxing his grip on me. I quickly move up to leave, but
his arms quickly recircled around my waist, pulling me
back down on him.
"Mmm Janey...did you notice... how much you look like
that girl Susie in the picture. Did you see her face--how
much she loved it--when she had her daddy's big cock deep
up inside her tight wet pussy. She was such a good girl
to spread her legs wide open for her Daddy."
My heart was pounding frantically. Daddy had been groping
me a lot recently, but he'd never been so open and direct
about wanting to fuck me.
"Dad! I gotta go!" I whined, twisting on his lap. His
cock felt huge pressing against my buttocks.
"In just a minute.." he panted, as his hips began rocking
back and forth against my imprisoned buttocks.
"You know Janey, you're such a good girl to help Daddy
out like this.." he panted. "Here you are, helping your
daddy satisfy his needs, while yours go on unsatisfied."
He punctuated this statement by grabbing at my crotch
through my jeans.
"You know, if you're ever feeling lonely or need
something to help you sleep better, all's you need to do
is come over to Daddy's room, and I'll be more than happy
to give you what Susie's daddy gave her." Groaning, he
ejaculated in his pants. His lust sated, he released his
grip on me. Springing up, I ran up the stairs, sobbing.
Damn him! Damn him! Damn him. I wish he would just roll
over and die!!
* * *
My father's descent into perversion continued, and his
sexual overtures to me became more and more obvious. He
took to fondling me right in the presence of Timmy.
At least once a week, he'd corner me in the living room,
and pull me on his lap and start dry humping me. As his
liberties with my body increased, I knew it was only a
matter of time before he would need something more than
dry humping to sate his lusts. I also knew that I was
basically helpless-at least for now.
There was nothing I could do until I turned 18 and
graduated from high school. All I needed was a year's
time, and then me and Timmy would be free. Free from my
father's molestation. Free of this bleak life. Free to
start a new one. Just me and Timmy.
* * *
That time never came. I blink back tears now, as I think
about how absurd I was for thinking it was ever possible
that I could escape the clutches of my abusive father.
Such a fool I was. I think back to that fateful summer.
The summer where my dreams were shattered, my whole world
crumpled...
* * *
Summer had arrived, and I had just finished up my junior
year of high school. Having no friends, I basically spent
every day secluded in my room reading my library books,
or taking Timmy to the local playground.
On July 10th, the eve of my seventeenth birthday, feeling
all sweaty and dirty from another session with my dad on
his couch, I took a bus to the cemetery to visit my
mother's grave. On my knees, kneeling before the slab of
marble, I prayed fervently for strength. And courage.
Strength to thwart my father's advances and courage to
maintain my resolve to escape my prison. I stayed there
for over two hours, talking to my mother.
That night, during dinner, my Dad announced that since it
was my birthday tomorrow, we would all be going to the
beach. Timmy got very excited, and kept breaking out in
smiles. He started gushing about how he was gonna build
gigantic sandcastles, and make entire rivers surrounding
it. I smiled to see him so happy. I don't think he'd ever
gone to a beach since Mom died, but I guess he knew what
to expect from watching television.
Daddy looked at me, and then said. "Janey, you can wear
your Mama's swimming suit. You've probably outgrown
whatever swimsuit you have in your closet. I also brought
down one of her cocktail dresses from the attic, because
we're all going out to eat a nice restaurant afterwards.
I'll get them for you after dinner."
I held my breath in excitement. Going to the beach would
be such a nice break from the dull dreariness of home.
And eating out?? Unheard of! My mind was full of
excitement of tomorrow's events, as I hummed whiled
washing up the dishes. Shortly, dad came up to me,
tossing me a bag. "You can wear these tomorrow."
In my room, I took the bathing suit and dress out of the
bag and examined them. It was a white bikini that I
remember was my mom's favorite. Turning toward the
cocktail dress, I saw that it was the cream colored one
that my mom used to wear on special occasions.
Excited, I quickly shucked my clothes, and put on the
bikini. It was a sort of tight fit, since my mom was very
petite. Standing before the mirror, I stared. A sexy
woman stared right back at me. God! I look stunning! I
thought to myself, surprised and pleased all at the same
time. My breasts and hips filled out the bikini very
nicely.
It wasn't a racy string bikini, but it definitely was not
the conservative type either. A lot of my flesh was
definitely visible. Trying on the cocktail dress, I saw
that it too fitted my slim figure perfectly. The fine
dress transformed me into a mature woman in her twenties,
rather than a soon-to-be seventeen-year-old.
* * *
We got to the beach the next morning by late morning.
While Timmy and I immediately sprinted for the waves, Dad
began setting up the beach umbrella, and laying out the
blankets. It was kind of weird, seeing him actually doing
something besides lounging around with a beer bottle.
Maybe he was finally coming back around. Not likely, I
thought, remembering the way his eyes had roved over my
body when I stepped outside my room this morning in the
bathing suit.
By noon, the sun was scorching. Rubbing some suntan oil
all over Timmy, I did some on my front, and turned to
Timmy. "Timmy, help me put some on my back."
"Timothy, let Daddy do that. Go on ahead, go start on
that sand castle of yours." Dad spoke up suddenly. Before
I could utter a word in protest, Timmy was off and away,
with a pail of sand and shovel.
"Never mind, Dad, I can do it myself" I said quickly.
"Nonsense. Lay down. I'll do it." He ordered, grabbing
the bottle of lotion from my hands, and placing his hands
on the small of my back, directed me to lie down.
Resigned, I settled back down on my stomach. I felt him
straddle himself over me, his hairy legs to each side of
my legs. Then he was pouring the oil into his cupped
hand, and then his large hands were on my back, rubbing
firmly. In circles, I felt him rubbing, first starting at
the center of my back, then moving toward the shoulders,
then to the small of my back.
I started, as his fingers suddenly slipped under the
string of my bikini top. Even as I uttered aloud in
surprise, his hands, still under the bikini, had slid to
my sides, caressing the sides of the swells of my
breasts.
"Daddy! Stop it!" I felt his hands slip out from under my
bikini top, but I had had enough. "I can manage the rest
myself!" I hissed angrily, looking around. Some families
were around them, but they were a good distance off, and
no one appeared to have noticed, thank god.
"Now now, Daddy was just teasing. No need to get all
riled up. Daddy just wanted to see much you've grown. Now
let me do your legs, and then I'll be done. Before I
could say another word, he squeezed some more oil on his
hands, and then began on my legs. Starting on the calves,
he slowly worked his hands up my thighs, while I held my
breath, counting the seconds until this torture was over.
I tensed slightly, as I felt his hands moving higher up
my thighs. I clenched my thighs tightly, as I felt him
began rubbing my inner thigh area.
Ignoring me, he pressed insistently, and, fueled by the
need to just get it over with, I relaxed somewhat and
allowed him to part my thighs a bit so that he could get
access there. I grimaced as his hands rubbed higher and
higher up my thigh. This continued for a few seconds, and
then, with a quickness that caught me by totally off
guard, his fingers pinched the crotch area of my bikini
bottom and shifted it to the side. I yelped in surprise,
as I felt the cool open air against my exposed genitals.
Just as quickly, his hand was suddenly there, cupping my
pussy.
"Dad!" I gasped, quickly closing my thighs. This did
little more than to trap his hand between my thighs. I
gazed quickly around? Had anyone seen what was happening?
God, I'd die of embarrassment. No one was close enough to
pay any attention. I scrambled to get up, but he was
expecting that. I felt his heavy weight on me, as he
settled on top of me. The full weight of his broad chest
pressed down into my back, lowering me back down onto the
blanket.
As I lay trapped under him, I had to twist my head to the
side just to breathe. I felt his fingers, wiggling around
like a spider, probing into the folds of my vagina. His
fingers felt oily from the suntan lotion. Tears welled
up, and I began sobbing, as I felt his fat greasy fingers
slip into my pussy lips. It wiggled around the entrance,
probing and testing. I choked, holding my breath, eyes
wide, as my father discovered my hymen.
"Goddamn! Who'd have thought. A body like this and still
a virgin!" he marveled. "With a body like this, you won't
be one long," he muttered. The weight of his hips on me
lifted, and alarms sounded in my head, as I became aware
of him tugging his bathing suit down to his knees.
"God, he's going to rape me!". With his weight off my
lower body, I tried twisting to the side to get out from
under him, but he once again settled down, his naked
groin pressed right up against the fullness of my
buttocks. I kicked my legs futilely, but he was too
heavy. I could feel the heat of his manhood. It felt so
hot and thick, trapped between my thighs. I could feel
the whole topside length of his hot bar, rubbing across
the oiled lips of my sex.
I looked around wildly, but with the loud crash of the
waves, we weren't within shouting distance of anyone. I
shuddered, in disgust and fear, as I felt my father begin
thrusting up and down, against my buttocks.
"Be calm Janey," I told myself. This is just like all the
other times. He'll get his rocks off and then it'll be
over. But this wasn't like the other times. Before, we'd
always been clothed. Now, I could feel his heated penis
brushing wetly across the lips of my exposed vagina. I
closed my eyes, trying to think of something else. His
bucking grew more frantic, as he panted heavily above me.
I knew he was close, and it would be over soon. His hips
lifted suddenly, higher than before, and as his hips came
downwards, the large knob of his penis suddenly entered
my vagina, splitting the lips, and entering about an inch
or so. We both froze.
"Oh god, no!" I whispered. Not my virginity! I'll be no
good to anyone if he takes that. His body stayed frozen
above me, and I could hear him moaning. "God, your
pussy's so tight. Oh, god, this is so wrong, but Daddy
needs you so badly." He inched forward slowly, and I felt
the entire corona of his penis head pass through my
stretched pussy lips. Oh God, it felt like he was tearing
me apart--he was so thick. Gasping, I felt a sharp twinge
as his cockhead shifted forward, straining against my
hymen.
"Oh god... Oh god...can't hold it..." he moaned. I
started, as I felt his cock head swell, and then begin
throbbing inside me. A gush of warm wetness flooded my
vagina, as he ejaculated. Shot after shot of his heavy
sperm erupted from his geysering cock, splashing into the
entrance of my vagina, and overflowing out past my
stretched lips, which ringed his throbbing cockhead, to
drip downward, matting my sparse pubic hair.
He remained lodged in me for a few minutes, as I shifted
restlessly under him. After a minute, his weight eased
off me, and then the head of his cock was slipping out of
me with a wet noise. I felt his fingers once again tug
the crotch of my bikini bottom, centering it back over my
crotch.
With a final pat of his cupped hand over my crotch area,
he gave a chuckle. Sighing loudly, he flipped over onto
his back, tugging his shorts back on. Within minutes, he
was snoring loudly.
I laid there motionless. A part of me was so weak with
relief. I was still a virgin. He had not taken me. There
was still hope. My rejoicing was short-lived, as I
considered. How long would I be able to continue fighting
him off? If anything, I knew my Dad. Now that he'd gone
this far, he definitely wouldn't go back to the fully
clothed dry humping sessions. Sooner or later, he would
catch me at a disadvantage, and rape me.
The lips of my crotch throbbed, a dull aching reminder of
the recent encounter. I could feel the sticky wetness of
his hot spunk against my crotch. My whole pussy was
soaked in a swamp of his sperm. A chill of fear swept
through me, as the possibility of pregnancy came up.
Even though he hadn't torn my virginity, he'd ejaculated
right into my vagina, and I knew enough to know that
there was a real danger. Glancing over to make sure he
was asleep, I got up, a bit shakily. I needed to wash
off. Heading toward the waves, I walked tenderly. With
each step, I imagined I could hear and feel his slimy
gruel as it sloshed around in my pussy, sealed and
contained by my clinging bikini bottom.
Near the water, the beach was packed full of people. I
noticed Timothy shouting at me. He was with a whole
bunching of little kids, all of them running around with
little pails and shovels, working feverishly on one big
lopsided castle. I waved back, mostly to acknowledge him,
and waded into the water.
Once neck deep in the waves, and making sure no one was
watching me, I adjusted my bikini bottom, pushing the
material to the side of my crotch, and massaging my
crotch, trying to wash out any traces of my dad's cum.
When I felt that I had done the best possible, I rejoined
Timothy. Seeing him play with kids his own age, so
carefree and in such happiness, brought tears to my eyes.
"Soon Timmy..." I promised him silently. You'll be able
to build your won castle whenever you want.
The afternoon and evening past by quickly. We quit the
beach in the early evening and made the two-hour trip
back home. During the long ride, Dad didn't mention
anything about what had happened earlier today. But I was
accustomed to his habits. Once he was sated, he would act
like everything was normal. It was only when he got horny
that I needed to be on alert. The problem was, I could
never predict when he struck.
We reached home, and everyone then got dressed up to go
the Providenci Manor. After putting on my gown, I helped
Timothy into his little suit, one I had saved up enough
money last summer to buy for him. It fit perfectly, since
I had bought it slightly larger, and altered it as he had
grown.
Providenci Manor was an extremely expensive and very fin
Italian restaurant, and throughout the course of dinner,
with musicians strolling around the room playing their
violins, and the breathtaking presentation of each of
their orders, I found myself wondering for the umpteenth
time how my father had gotten the money to pay for it.
Throughout dinner, I was aware of his eyes on me...on my
body. Wisely, in a roomful of people, he didn't do
anything more than look.
By the time we arrived home, it was near midnight, and
Timmy was snoring in the car. I felt bushed too. Gently
shaking him awake, I led Timmy upstairs to his bedroom.
Afterwards, I headed toward my room to change and go to
sleep. I was dead-tired. Instead, I heard Dad call for me
to come downstairs. Remembering his lustful looks at the
restaurant, and what he'd done at the beach, I descended
the stairs with leery suspicion. Better to get it over
with. Dad wasn't the kind to take no for an answer.
Dad greeted me in the kitchen with two champagne bottles-
-one in each hand. He'd changed out of his evening suit,
and was dressed once again in his 'normal attire'-a boxer
short and an undershirt that appeared to be falling apart
at the seams.
"I've been saving this bottle of Dom Perignon for just a
special occasion like this one. It's not everyday that a
daughter gets to celebrate her seventeenth birthday. In
just a year, you'll be legal." He made no sense. But I
guess he wasn't paying attention to his own words either.
His eyes never stopped roving my body, even as he held a
glass toward me.
"Daddy...I'm really tired! I'll drink it another time. I
just want to sleep now." I said. I turned to head back
upstairs.
"Nonsense! The bottle's already opened. I paid a hundred
fuckin' bucks for this bottle. Least you can do is show
your appreciation and drink a glass!" his voice was
slurred. Flinching at his tone, I turned back around.
Putting up the best smile I could muster, I held up my
hands to accept the glass. I noticed then that he'd
already finished half the bottle already. "No wonder he's
acting like such a dick," I thought.
Holding my breath, I held the wineglass up to my mouth,
and in one gulp, downed the entire glass. "There!" I
plunked the glass onto the table, turning to leave. My
exhaustion must have made me brave, or foolish, for I
would never have dared otherwise to talk back to my
father like that.
He must have not heard me, for he made no move to stop me
as I headed up the stairs. I almost thought I heard him
chuckling, but I was too tired to pay attention. By the
time I reached my room, I could feel the buzz in my head
from the alcohol. I'd never drunk alcohol before, but I'd
seen my dad enough to know nothing good could come of it.
"I hope I don't get a hangover," I thought, as I
sluggishly got out of my evening gown. I went into the
bathroom, to brush my teeth. It was getting harder and
harder to keep my eyes open. That alcohol, combined with
me sheer exhaustion, was really taking its toll. Eyes
half-lidded in near sleep, I trudged out of the bathroom,
heading toward my bed. Sleep would be a real treat
tonight, I thought.
But something was wrong. I gazed in stupor at my bed.
There, on my bed, against the bed frame, was my dad,
totally naked, stroking himself. I looked dumbly at the
scene before me. This couldn't be happening. He should be
downstairs drinking. But no, there he was, right in front
of me, staring at me silently. His hands pumped slowly up
and down on his monstrous cock. Even from the doorway of
the bathroom, I could make out the bulging veins and
angry purple color of its massive head.
"Janey, did you think Daddy forgot your birthday present?
I've got it right here in my hand. He gripped his heavy
cock by the base, waving it me. "I call it the 'gift of
womanhood'," he chuckled.
My heart was pounding in fear. I felt the edge of my door
against my back. All I needed to was turn around and run
downstairs. But my legs wouldn't move. I just stood
there, my body swaying. For some reason, the room was
spinning around and around. Even the chuckling from my
dad sounded like it was coming from far away. The vision
of my father's leering wide grin seem to spin around and
around before me. What was happening to me? In my
haziness, I was dimly aware of my father, slowly getting
up off the bed, moving toward me. Everything seemed to be
in slow motion.
"No...gotta get away..." That was my last thought, before
I slipped into unconsciousness.
When I came to, I was in my bed, alone. Sunlight filled
the room, brightening it. I yawned, kicking off the
covers. Blearily, I glanced at the alarm clock. It was
noon. God damn it. I never wake up this late! I sat
upright on my bed, then doubled over in pain, as needles
of pain shot through my crotch. With sudden alarm, the
events of last night came rushing back to me. The image
of my father, stroking his raging cock, and getting up
off my bed and walking toward me.
Oh god. It couldn't have happened. Please... this was all
a dream. Even, as I swept the covers to the floor to
reveal my lower region, the fierce burning in my crotch
told me something bad had happened. I gazed at my
panties. The crotch area was stained slightly yellowish,
and dotted with deep brown spots, and damp.
My eyes then focused on some small brown spots on the bed
sheet. Blood stains, I realized, as a coldness settled
over me. My eyes told me what my body already suspected,
but my mind had refused to believe. I was no longer a
virgin. I got out of bed, grabbing a change of clothing,
and walked unsteadily into to the bathroom. I could hear
the television and occasional sounds of laughter from my
father and Timmy downstairs.
My crotch was burning. I locked the bathroom door behind
me. Sitting on the toilet seat, I hesitantly drew down my
panties down to my ankles, and then completely off.
Holding it up toward me, I could see that the entire
crotch area of my panties swamped with a sticky wetness.
Small spots of dried blood stains dotted the crotch area.
The heady scent of sex assaulted me, and I almost gagged
as I quickly tossed the soiled panties to the floor, and
focused my attention to my burning crotch. Bending over
forwards, I could see my vaginal lips, glaring back with
an angry raw color. A mucous-like film coated whole of my
vagina, matting the downy hairs around my crotch. My eyes
focused on the raw glistening lips of my vagina. The
inner petals protruded slightly outwards, something that
had never happened before. I held my breath. I had to
make sure.
Gingerly, I wiggled my index and middle fingers carefully
into my vagina. I inhaled sharply, feeling a fiery pain
as my raw wet lips brushed against my fingers. I felt
around, seeking the place where my hymen should be. It
was gone, completely. I fought back tears. No use crying
over spilt milk, I tried to tell myself, but the tears
flowed anyway. Wiping the wetness from my eyes so I could
see, I delved further. My two fingers slid in deeper than
would have been possible in the past, lubricated with the
slimy wetness I could feel all around in my vagina.
Fighting the urge to gag, I wondered how much of his
stuff was in me. Within my vagina, I spread my two
fingers slightly, waiting. Time slowed to a crawl, but
eventually, some thick milky-colored fluid oozed out. I
stared at it. Parts of it were gathered in clots of white
spunk, other areas were almost clear. Thin streaks of
pink could be seen, which I knew to be my blood. I sat
there on the toilet, for almost an hour, watching as my
father's sperm dripped slowly out of me.
For the next few days, I stayed in my room whenever I
could, coming out only make sandwiches for Timmy, or cook
dinner for all of us. Like all the times before, Dad
pretended the whole thing had never happened, bantering
as usual with Timmy and me. But I knew my Dad; he was
just a ticking time bomb, and I dreaded each day that
passed, wondering if this would be the day that he would
blow off.
I was fairly certain that he'd drugged me that night--
there was no other possible explanation for my sudden
loss of consciousness--and just to be safe, I'd dump out
all the open containers of juices and milk in the
refrigerator, in case he'd slipped something in it. He
probably wouldn't have done that, since that would
endanger Timmy, but I didn't want to leave anything to
chance.
A month past and Dad actually sobered up a bit. Twice
this month, he'd actually gone out for second interviews
with potential employers. He told all this to me and
Timmy during dinner, and I actually started to feel that
maybe Dad was turning around. During this time, to my
immense relief, my period arrived on schedule. It was the
middle of summer, and things were starting to look up.
I'd gotten a part-time job at the library, and was saving
up some money.
It was the first day of August, about a couple of weeks
away from Timmy's sixth birthday. I'd been making some
clothes for him, since he would be starting school this
fall. I had designed the clothes by copying the designs I
saw from the Bloomingdale's catalog. Already, I'd made
three long-sleeve shirts, a pair of shorts, and two
trousers, and was working on the last pair of trousers
with the remaining cloth I had left. Outside, I could
hear the laughter of Timmy, as he and our neighbor's two
kids roamed about in the backyard.
There was a knocking on the door, and then it opened as
my Dad walked in. I tensed immediately. One look at his
sweaty face and his lethargic steps was enough to tell me
he'd been hitting the bottle again. Something must have
happened to get him like this. I glanced furtively at the
open door, wondering if I could make it past him if I
needed to.
He surveyed the room, his eyes finally resting on me,
stooped over the sewing machine in my room. "What's that
for!" he gestured at the Timmy's new clothes, which I'd
strewn across the bed. "Seems a little too small for you,
but hey, I won't be complainin' when I see you struttin'
around in em'," he chuckled. I explained to him that they
were for Timmy, and I was planning to give it to him next
week for his birthday.
He just grunted, and to my growing bewilderment, started
moving about my room, examining my things. He gazed at
the poster James Dean poster I had on the wall, sneering
and muttering incoherent remarks. My eyes followed him
around the room. What was he doing in here? Why was he
drunk again? He'd been sober for an entire month.
Something must have happened. Maybe his job interview
fell through, I thought.
He stopped in front of my wall calendar, that I'd pin to
the wall, next to my dresser mirror. Through the
reflection, I could see his eyes as they swept across the
calendar page. Grunting, his finger tapped at some of the
words scribbled on the calendar.
"Timmy's sixth birthday." he read, his words slurred. His
finger traced the red circle I'd drawn around it. "What's
this 'X' for," he said, tapping his thick finger on a red
'X' that appeared in the box a couple of days before
Timmy's birthday. I felt my face flushing red. "That's
when I get my period," I said in a bare whisper.
"Speak up, I can't hear you." he grunted, turning around
to face me.
"That's when I get my period," I said louder, a tinge of
anger escaping. Why couldn't he ever just stay sober?
My father just grunted, turning back around and stared at
the "X". Slowly his finger traced circles around and
around it. He turned around back to me, his face frozen
in a smirk. "So Janey, what do you use? Tampons or those
winged Tampa's on the outside?"
I remained silent, and he asked again, louder.
"The other things" I said, glancing at the open door. He
was much closer to the door than me. I wouldn't be able
to make it passed him, I thought sadly.
"You should give tampons a try. I hear they feel pretty
good when it's up your pussy. Almost like a little cock,"
he laughed, taking another swig from his bottle. "Of
course, you might not have any use for 'em soon," he
chuckled again, gazing meaningfully at me.
I looked up at him in confusion. What was he talking
about? I tried to reasoning with him. "Dad, you're drunk!
Why don't you go downstairs and take a nap? I'll brew
some coffee-".
My voice cracked, as he strode to the door, slamming it
shut with a solid thunk, leaving us both in the room. I
could see the beginnings of madness and rising lust in
his eyes, as he turned toward me.
"Oh god, this can't be happening... not again." I
whispered to myself. I was seated by the sewing machine,
and tried to get up, but he was suddenly there, right up
behind me. Immediately, I felt his big hands as they
cupped my full breasts through the thin material of my T-
shirt.
"I was just talking to Timmy today, and do you know what
he told me that he wants for his birthday?". His voice
was slurred, and the smell of alcohol on his breath made
me gag. I sat rooted in the chair, paralyzed in fright as
his hands mauled my breasts, mashing them tightly against
one another.
"What did he want," I finally whispered.
"He wants something only the two of us can give him." His
hands moved lower, down my breasts, to my smooth belly.
He began patting me there softly.
"He wants a baby sister."
I gasped loudly in alarm, springing up from the seat. I
stood up, but he kept his arms tight around me. "No!
Daddy, please stop it. We can't do this! You must have
heard wrong," I cried out tearfully.
He kicked the chair away from between us, and pulled me
back against him. I gasped, feeling the stiff lump of his
manhood as he pressed my buttocks against it.
"I ain't lying. That's exactly what the little tyke told
me," he said his voice heavy with lust. "And I know you,
Janey...you couldn't refuse Timmy anything could you."
Maintaining his tight embrace, he half carried me with
him toward the bed. He spun me around with ease, and with
a quick shove, tossed me backward onto the bed. I lay
there stunned, on my back, as he quickly ripped off his
T-shirt. I looked toward the door, consider making a run
for it.
He looked at me, and said "Don't even think of it. My
god, your body's tempted me enough this past month. Mark
my words. You're gonna get fucked good today. I haven't
been holding off a whole month's worth of cum just to
jack it off. So either we do it together, or I'll do it
my way. Now, get out of them clothes."
I laid there speechless. Everything had happened so fast.
This had to be a dream. But he stayed there, right in
front of me, waiting impatiently. I had no idea what 'his
way' was, but I knew it couldn't be good. Reluctantly, I
removed my T-shirt, pulling it over my head. He just
stood there waiting.
I sat up, and pulled my thin cotton pants off. All I had
on was my panties now. Reaching for the T-shirt, I held
it over my breasts, trembling as I tried to cover myself
from him. But he just leaned forward, yanked it from my
grasp, and tossed it aside. "Now the panties!" he
growled.
"Daddy!" I sobbed. "Can't we just-".
"The panties, or you'll regret it," his eyes flashed
menacingly.
Sobbing softly, I peeled the panties slowly off. I eased
them off my hips, down to my ankles, and then removed
them completely.
"Good!" he nodded approvingly, his eyes glued to my
crotch. "Now lay back down on the bed, and spread your
thighs."
I gulped in fear, but did as he asked. Flat on the
mattress, between my parted thighs, I awaited the
inevitable. I watched as he crouched slightly, removing
his shorts in one fluid motion. His massive cock sprang
out. My breath caught in my throat as I saw close up the
gigantic dimensions of my father's big solid penis. THICK
was the only word to describe it.
It looked at least as thick as my wrist! My stomach
knotted in fear, as I gazed at the monstrosity, knotted
with thick purplish blue veins all around. In the
brightness of the room, I could see clearly the pulsating
veins surging towards the large head that was dripping
with the moistness of his escaping pre-cum. I quickly
closed my legs, even as he crawled up onto the edge of
the bed before me.
Kneeling before my locked thighs, he growled out.
"Spread em, you little slut. Don't try to play coy with
me, I know how much you've been hungering for a piece of
daddy's meat ever since I gave you your birthday
present." His hands snaked out to firmly grasp my ankles.
I resisted, but he was too strong, and slowly he parted
my thighs.
I moaned in fear as he pulled me by my ankles, toward
him, until my thighs were to either side of his hips. My
buttocks were lifted off of the bed, and his large hands
were suddenly there, clenching into the softness of my
buttocks.
He kneed my thighs even further apart, and hunched
forward. His fingers wrapped firmly around his fat blood-
engorged trunk, as he guided the purple head of his thick
bloated cock-its slit dripping thickly with pre-cum-
slowly and deliberately toward the mouth of my pussy.
I choked in fear, cringing as I the searing hot contact
of my father's large bulbous head cockhead wetly against
my nether lips. I could feel it, hot against me. He
rubbed it up and down across my lips, smearing it wetly
with his leaking pre-cum. Finally, he looked up at me,
his eyes clouded with lust.
"Time to give Timmy his birthday present," he chuckled
wickedly.
He thrust forward, and his cock, hard and thick, moved
into me. I gasped out loud in shock, as I felt my tight,
pussy lips splitting open around his massive thickness.
Then the huge bulbous head of his cock was sliding
agonizingly into me, as my lips stretched to its limits
to contain his girth. There was a wet noise, and suddenly
my lips swallowed the entire corona of his head. I
inhaled sharply, my eyes wide, as I felt the thickness of
my father's cockhead in me.
"Mmmmmh! Feel that Janey? Your little tight pussy's
nibbling on Daddy's cock," he chuckled. "I bet little
your pussy's hungry, isn't she. Janey, baby, is your
little pussy hungry for more of Daddy's meat? Well,
supper's ready!"
"No..." I moaned, as his hands clenched the cheeks of my
buttocks cruelly. He set his teeth, and shoved forward
with a mighty lunge, thrusting with the strength of all
his manhood and virility. I felt every ridge, every bump
of his thickness, as he drilled into me in great waves of
warm moist flesh until suddenly his swollen penis head
pelvis smacked tight into the end of my tunnel.
I grunted in pain. The sheer enormity of his flesh was
more than I could bear. It felt as if a telephone pole
had been shoved into me--he was so thick. Gasping out, I
tried to twisting away from him. My whole groin was on
fire, but my movements were futile. With his incredible
length and thickness, my father pressed forward, impaled
me under him with his flesh.
"God, you've got one tight pussy!" my father gasped. He
pulled the cheeks of my ass hard back against him and
held his prick inside me. Flexing out to its fullest
extent, he wriggled his hips, grinding his swollen cock
head right up against my cervix.
"Ohhhhhh.. God," I gasped out at the sensation. I could
feel him, way up, deep against the entrance to my room.
"That's right, baby, feel Daddy's big cock, honey. Feel
it deep, deep in your tender young belly. How's it feel
to get fucked by a real man, baby? You just lay back now
and enjoy every inch of Daddy's thick meat."
With that, his hands gripped me tightly by my hips,
pulling me toward him. His thick hard blood-filled cock
sunk to its fullest depth inside my quivering belly. He
then drew his long, sword of a cock back. Pain flared
anew as the sides of his huge cock slid across my raw and
narrow passageway. I was dimly aware of the lewd, wet
squelching noises as his huge monstrous cockhead mashed
again and again into the very end of her pussy, his hips
were twisting in a cork-screw motion as he strove to
drill his truncheon deeper into my loins.
"Ohhh! Ohh! Ohhh," I heard myself moaning. My belly felt
stuffed full with his maleness.
Minutes ticked by. I closed my eyes, shuddering my
father's movements became steady, his hot thick flesh
sliding smoothly against my wet, stretched pubic lips as
he pumped his organ back and forth inside her body.
Opening my eyes, I looked at the dresser mirror.
The sight I saw in the reflection repulsed me. I could
see his broad back, as he bent over me, his hips rising
and falling as he rutted into me. I wasn't able to see my
face; all I saw were my slim pale thighs, upright and to
each side of waist. "I was really being fucked," I
thought, watching the reflection sadly as he pistoned his
thickness in and out of me.
After more minutes past, his breaths grew shorter and
shorter, along with his strokes. I could feel him growing
and growing deep... deep inside me. Oh god, this was it,
I thought suddenly, horrified. He's going to cum in me!
The knowledge filled me with despair and horror, and I
felt my tears flow anew, cascaded in torrents down my
cheeks. The image of me, under him, as he sprayed my
delicate womb with his hot white sticky lust made me sick
with nausea. Oh God, I don't want my father's baby! This
thought ran crazily through my mind, and foolishly, I
clench my ass muscles in a senseless gesture of defense.
That did it! As my muscles clasped tightly around my
father's hard-driving, lust swollen cock, he threw back
his head with a guttural bellow, shoving his virility
forward and into me in one last furious thrust, plunging
his cockhead right smack deep into the crack of my
cervix.
He held me tightly against him, as fat wads of his hot
sticky spunk jetted out, drenching inundating my insides
full with his thick clinging seed. On and on, his huge
cock jerked and twitched to its completion, white hot
spurts of sperm foaming out the stretched lips around the
base of his cock, drenching the matted hair of our fused
crotches.
"Noo! Oh, God, no, no, nooooooo!" I was sobbing
hysterically.
Finally, my father collapsed in exhaustion over me. I
laid there, sobbing softly, his weight on me. I could
still feel him deeply inside me, his cock twitching in
the aftereffects of coition. His weight was heavy. I
could feel the scalding hotness of his sperm, a fiery
pool deep in my belly.
I laid there under him for a few minutes. But his weight
was too much. I twisted under him, trying to squeeze out
from under his mass. Groaning, he finally flipped himself
off me, his face red and perspiring profusely from
exertion. A moist sucking noise resounded in the room as
his fat dripping cock slurped noisily out of me. My eyes
shot downward, watching as a string of creamy semen
trailed out, as my pussy lips closed behind him. Gasping
from his exertion, he flipped over onto his back besides
me, his chest rising rapidly up and down.
Lost in my own misery, I lay there, prone on my back, my
legs spread vulgarly in the position my father had taken
me, sobbing softly.
After a while, he propped himself up on his elbow. I felt
his gaze on me, eyeing me up and down with satisfaction.
His gaze lowered triumphantly to my raw red glistening
pussy, which gaped partially open. He'd done
that...stretch my tight near-virgin pussy open with his
wide cock. White frothy foam coated the lips and wet
matted hair of my well-fucked pussy.
"How'd it feel getting the 'ole in and out' from your
daddy?" he chuckled. "Guess you ain't so high and mighty
now, huh? Heh!" he laughed, his hand reaching forward,
slipping between my damp thighs, to cup my tender mound-
even as I sobbed aloud in renewed despair. I felt his fat
fingers rudely probing into the folds of my swollen
pussy. Ignoring my sobs, he spanned out his fingers,
rudely spreading apart my tender lips. Fascinated, he
watched as thick gulps of his creamy sperm oozed out. He
gloated lecherously over the copious amount of spunk he
had pumped into his little girl.
"Damn! Daddy really creamed BIG TIME inside of you,
didn't he," he chuckled, amidst my piteous sobs. "Your
pretty little pussy must be just FULL of Daddy's baby
making sperm. Christ, but I'd be damn if little Timmy
doesn't get his birthday present after all!" he gloated.
He got up off the bed. His now-flaccid penis shone wetly
from our juices and his balls hung low, depleted.
Grabbing his shorts and underwear, he slipped them on in
front of me, even as his eyes roamed in satisfaction over
my aching body.
"C'mon, time to get a move on! It's almost six. I told
Timmy we'd be going out to dinner tonight. He picked up
his shirt from the ground, and pulled it on. Walking over
to my dresser, he began opening the drawers and rummaging
around. He turned around, smiling. In his hands, he held
a panty liner. Walking back toward the bed, he picked up
my panties from the ground, and held them both out to me.
I looked at the liner and panties he held before me, then
at his grinning face. Slowly, I took my panties from his
outstretched hand, hoping he would leave now, but he just
stood there...waiting...and smiling. Resigned, I sat up,
wincing in pain as I felt a dull ache in my belly, from
his deep thrusts. Under his lecherous gaze, I donned my
panties.
He waited, expectantly, his hand outstretched, holding
the liner. Glaring back defiantly at him, I finally
grabbed the panty liner, slipping it under the crotch of
my panties. As I slipped it on, I could feel the sticky
wetness of his warm spunk on my fingers, and I had to
fight the urge to vomit at the thought of all his sperm
deep inside my womb.
He stayed there in the room, watching me get dressed. We
walked down the stairs together. Calling for Timmy, who
was still playing outside, we all piled into the car.
Throughout dinner, I nibbled at my food, my appetite
gone. All I could feel was the burning feeling between my
legs, and the escaping wetness.
I clenched my thighs tightly together, feeling more
wetness seeping down my thigh. My panties were drenched,
the liner doing little more than act as a dam against the
torrent of sperm sloshing around inside me. My dad kept
eyeing me smugly. He was well aware of how uncomfortable
I was; his whole load of sperm dripping slowly out of me,
and from his expression, he was reveling in it.
When we got back home, I ran upstairs to take a shower. I
quickly removed my shorts. My panties were totally
drenched, looking almost sheer. I peeled them off, along
with the lining. I looked down; my crotch was a mess. My
raw lips were red and puffy, glistening with his jism.
I sat down on the toilet, parting the lips of my vagina,
and watched as a river of his sperm oozed out. I
considered douching, but knew from health class that that
would only increase the chances of pregnancy. So I sat
there, like before, coaxing as much as I sperm out as I
could.
Later on that night, as I was tucking in Timmy for the
night, I mentioned to him that it was going to be his
birthday in two weeks, and whether there was anything
that he would like, and maybe he could pray to God for
it.
"Oh yes! I've been praying every night!" he said
excitedly. "I even told Dad about it, just so he could
mention it to God in case God didn't hear me, because I'm
so little."
"What did you pray for," I whispered, my voice suddenly
hoarse.
"A baby sister!" he beamed. Johnny's got a new sister,
and she's the best thing! I was over there today, and
they even let me carry her a bit, and I didn't even drop
her at all!"
I smiled at his enthusiasm, even as tears filled my eyes.
"Oh god, what ideas you must have given dad," I thought.
But I could no more blame Timmy for it than I could blame
my mom for dying and leaving us with Dad.
"God works in mysterious ways, dear. Sometimes he might
not seem to be paying attention to you, but know that
he's always looking out for you." I paused. "Timmy, even
if God doesn't give you a little sister for your
birthday, who's to say you won't get one later on, in the
future?"
"I know!" he beamed up at me. "That's what Daddy says
too. He says that I might almost be seven before I get
mine, but I'm willing to wait!"
That wasn't what I'd meant, but the idea that my father
had been talking to him so matter-of-factly about him
getting a baby sister brought a chill to my spine. "God,
he really intends to get me pregnant."
I kissed Timmy goodnight, walking out troubled. I didn't
know what I would do if I got pregnant. I didn't have
enough money for an abortion, and I knew dad wouldn't
allow me to get one.
He met me outside my bedroom door, as I prepared to go to
bed.
"So, did Timmy tell you about his birthday wish?" he said
mockingly. He chuckled aloud, as he saw as my face
redden, positive proof that I'd indeed spoken to Timmy
about that very topic.
He continued to stand there, blocking the doorway to my
room. I tried squeezing past him, but his hands came up,
gripping my arms tightly, and pulling me toward him in a
tight embrace.
"From tonight on 'til Timmy's birthday, you'll be sharing
my bed," he whispered gruffly in my ear. I gazed up at
him in shock. He couldn't be serious? But from his frozen
expression, I could see he was dead serious. He led me
firmly down the hall, past Timmy's bedroom, into his
bedroom.
Locking the bedroom door behind him, he turned around,
facing me. "You know the drill. Clothes off...on the
bed...and spread em for daddy.
Afterwards, when he'd emptied himself into me, he made me
sleep with him in the 'spoon' position, his shrunken but
lengthy penis still deep inside me, as he drifted off to
sleep, his arms clutching me possessively. He woke up two
more times during the night, hard and thick within me,
thrusting hotly into me until he'd emptied his seed once
again.
For the next two weeks, he basically kept me there in his
bed, fucking me whenever it fancied him. He ordered in
takeout for lunch as well as dinner, and left Timmy to
play outside with the neighbor's kids. He took delight in
fucking me in various positions-from behind with me on
all fours, or missionary, or me on my back, legs resting
on his shoulders while he sank into me deeply. My pussy
became a constant sticky mess, always slick and dripping
with his spunk. The bed sheets became indelibly stained
with cum stains, and the room reeked of raw sex.
After the fifth day, I knew with a hopeless certainty
that I was going to be pregnant for sure, if not already.
He'd been fucking me right through the middle of my
cycle, when I was the most fertile. It excited him so
much, to be grinding his fat cock deep against my cervix,
as he caressed my smooth taut belly. "Just think, Janey,"
in a few months, your slim sexy belly is gonna get all
big and round. Knocked up by your own daddy! Go! d!" he'd
groan, as he emptied yet another river of sperm into me.
He took particular delight in producing unwanted orgasms
from me, pointing them out, knowing how embarrassing and
humiliating it was for me. The first time I orgasmed was
when he'd had me sitting astride him, forcing me to slide
up and down on his thick cock. He'd already come three
times that day, and was taking forever to come again. I
couldn't help it; I'd been riding up and down on his
thickness for over half an hour, and to my horror and
utmost shame, I started to feel pleasure in my loins.
Minutes passed, and the pleasure reached a pinnacle, and
I remember gasping and shaking, feeling my pussy muscles
convulsed around his thick spurting cock. He knew
immediately what had happened, and started roaring out
loud about how he could feel me cumming all over his
cock. I broke down in tears, my shame was complete.
Timothy's birthday came and went. Dad finally let me
sleep back in my room, but it was already too late. My
period never showed up. I was hysterical, while he
strutted about the house, proud as a peacock. He and
Timothy talked excitedly about his baby sister, while I
locked myself up in the room, crying uncontrollably.
The month of September came and went, along with my plans
to finish my senior year in high school. I stayed home,
not able to bear the thought of the great shame that I
would feel when the other kids begin to notice when my
belly started swelling. Timmy did start kindergarten
though, and everyday, I walked him to school and picked
him up afterwards.
Since I was at home all the time now, with Timmy gone
most of the day, Dad's sexual interest in me flared anew.
I didn't even resist anymore. What was the point? He
couldn't sully me any more than I was already. As the
weeks passed, I eventually lost my inhibitions.
After some time, I actually started fucking him back.
Trapped in the house all day and night, there was really
nothing else to do, so we basically wound up fucking a
lot. It got so, that just the sight of his thick member
was enough to get me wet. The weeks turned to months, and
my belly began to swell with the life my Dad had created
in me.
On a Saturday morning, in April, I gave birth to healthy
seven-pound girl. I named her Hope. Lying there, in the
hospital bed, cuddling the delicate bundle of warmth as
she nursed on my breasts, sanity and reason--properties
which had abandoned me these past months-returned
suddenly to me.
I saw for the first time, with clarity and rising
disgust, how I'd become nothing more than a mindless sex
slave for my father. I had to end this cycle, or else it
would just wind up repeating itself over and over. If I
continued down this road, I knew for sure I'd only wind
up getting pregnant again. All my dreams of escaping with
Timmy, and now Hope, would remain just that...dreams.
I was a picture of perfect coolness and composure when my
dad stepped into the room to look at his newest daughter.
When he reached out for her, I looked him straight in the
eyes, my eyes cold as ice.
"Dad, it's over. I'm going away with Timmy and Hope, and
you're not going to follow us. If you do, I'll tell
everyone about us. I'll tell them how you raped me, and
locked me up until you made sure I was pregnant. I'll
tell them about Hope."
He began to utter something back, but stopped mid-
sentence, as he saw the look in my face. His face paled,
as he realized from my dead-calm expression that I was
entirely serious. I continued. "If you don't want to get
locked up for what you did to me, you'll leave it drop
and consider yourself lucky. I'll be back to the house in
a few days to pack up our stuff, then we'll be gone."
The room was silent. I spoke again, this time a whisper.
"Please leave. I'm tired." I said closing my eyes, and
dismissing him once and for all from my life.
The End
Author's note: I am always interested in feedback. It's
what keeps us wanting to keep writing. Please send me a
mail, even if it's to say you like/hate it. If you have
any requests or partial ideas of fantasies you'd like to
see incorporated into my future writings, please mention
it. Thanks! (silentalltheseyears@hushmail.com)
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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not "real life." Anyone acting
out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to
many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a
fellow convict in their local prison.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 21