Copyright (c) 1997,  Phil Phantom,     ALL Rights Reserved

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without
the written permission of the author.  This story may be freely
distributed with this notice attached.  The author may be contacted
through mrdouble@ix.netcom.com.





                           "Toy Daughter"                       
  By Phil Phantom

I grew up in a rather bizarre family environment.  Mom has a
split personality, and my dad is a pedophile.  Mark, my kid
brother, three years my junior, had it pretty easy.  He lived in
a voyeurs paradise, and Mark is a voyeur.

Somewhere along the way something happened to twist my mother's
sexual wires.  For as long as I can remember, she has been
caught doing nasty things to herself.  She acts like a little
girl when we catch her, but gets turned on like a lusty slut at
the same time.  Rarely would she stop once she got caught. 
Afterwards, she'd act like she had a spell.  Amnesia set in
after a spell.  

We never talked about her spells, though her spells were hard
not to talk about.  Ninety-five percent of the time, she was
your typical mother: nurturing, loving, a good housekeeper,
moody at times, sentimental at others, always the disciplinarian
of the family.  It was the other five percent that discouraged
us from inviting friends to our house.  

It isn't easy eating a family dinner with your mother fucking
herself with food from the table.  She acted as if nobody
noticed that her right hand was in her lap going like mad, or
that we couldn't hear the suction noises as her twat got all
soupy.  We never knew when or where we might round a corner and
find Mom, buck naked, stuffing her pussy with something phallic,
usually something personal of ours.  

Mark's GI Joe has spent more time buried in Mom's trench than
any GI ever spent in the real trenches.  My Barbie doll got the
same treatment.  Our tooth brushes always smelled like pussy. 
Everything we ate, and the utensils we used, smelled like pussy.
  I remember when Mark was a baby, Mom walked around with his
pacifier stuck in her pussy and would take it out and pop it in
his mouth.  He teethed on her tampons after they'd been in her
for hours.  Periods did not alter that practice; if anything,
they increased.  I'm sure I got the same treatment.

She never did stop breast feeding us, consequently she never
dried up.  Her big titties are always leaking milk; and, like a
milk cow, Mom has to be milked several times a day.  She likes
being suckled, but she also likes being milked like a cow.  When
we eat cereal, Mom bends over the bowl and we milk her into the
cereal bowl.  Dad milks her for the cream in his coffee.  I
don't ever recall buying store-bought cow's milk.  The first
time I tried it at school, I didn't like it.  I still don't. 
Mother's milk is much sweeter.

Mom was an expert beaver shot and more often than not, a glance
to her crotch would reveal a pussy with legs sticking out, or
one with Barbie's head sticking out.  Sometimes I'd see a short
mane of blond hair hanging below the front edge of a bath towel
she had wrapped around her, or under the short skirts she liked
to wear around the house.

As I entered puberty, much of Mom's sexual eccentricities turned
to me.  It began slowly, very subtle at first.  She used dad to
do her dirty work.  He would never have acted on his desires if
it weren't for my mother goading him on.

Dad was just a dirty old man with no backbone.  Mom had to push
him along to do everything he did to me.  He did just about
everything, too.  The only thing he could never bring himself to
do was actually rape me.  She tried to get him to rape me, but
he couldn't.  Even in this role, mother was rather bizarre.  She
thought she was invisible or like a ghost.  She was always
hovering over the scene, whispering aloud instructions to my dad
as though only he could hear.  Things such as: "Keep rubbing her
knee, Jack.  Keep her mind on her knee.  Good, now undo the top
button.  Good, now the next."

I learned to enjoy this game and went along with their charade. 
I pretended not to notice whatever I wasn't supposed to notice,
and usually ended up naked with Dad's finger in my pussy.  I
knew Dad was pretending; he knew I was; we both knew that Mom
really believed.  He played along because, through her, he got
the courage to do what he wanted to do.  I went along because
the things she had him do to me felt good.  Mark was a ghost
like Mom, only she couldn't see him.  Since she couldn't see
him, we didn't see him either.  Consequently, whenever something
nasty was going on, Mark was usually nearby.

Dad and I never discussed openly what we both knew.  Doing so
would have taken some of the magic away.  I say magic, because
that's how it felt to me.  When we got sucked into Mom's weird
alter reality, where normal rules didn't apply, it was like
being transported into another dimension.  Since that other
reality brought us so much pleasure, we had no motive for
destroying it.  Even Mark knew this and probably had the most to
lose if it all came crashing down.  His was all pleasure with no
consequences. 

In my early teen years, we never actually fucked.  We did have
intercourse, though.  This was accomplished, supposedly, while I
slept or took naps.  Several times each week, they'd come
creeping into my room and uncover me.  Mom would talk him
through positioning me, then guide his every action until he had
his thin cock buried to the balls.  Taking my virginity took
them over an hour from the time his cock touched my pussy until
my hymen ripped.  Trying to pretend to sleep through that was a
real challenge.  I not only had to hide the pain, I had to hide
the intense excitement I experienced with the first feel of a
real penis inside me.  

He couldn't actually fuck me as that would have been too overt. 
No one can sleep through a real fuck, even in Mom's other world,
but I'm sure they would have tried if I appeared to stay sound
asleep.  Whenever he did get carried away, I would pretend to
wake up, sending them scurrying.  I never had to actually open
my eyes, a simple stretching yawn was enough.  As a consequence,
he learned to get half way in and jerk off.  Sometimes, he'd
fuck me with long, super-slow strokes, then pull out and beat
off on my pussy. I wouldn't permit a real fucking, because I
wanted to be raped.  Torturing them that way was my way to bring
that about.  I loved the idea of being raped by my parents.  It
never worked, but I never stopped trying.  

Half of the time, I was the initiator.  I knew that to announce
my intention to take a nap was as good as saying, "Hey, Mom and
Dad, come fuck me, I'm horny."  Sometimes, they needed it, and
Mom would say, Connie you look tired, dear.  I think you need a
nap, sweetheart.  If I felt like indulging them, I'd yawn.  I
usually yawned.  On rare occasions, I'd tell her I felt fine and
was wide awake.  They never pressed the issue.  In that way, I
did have some control.

It wasn't always Mom and Dad together.  Mom had me by herself
quite a bit, too.  Those were fun, also.  She loved to explore
my body cavities with fingers, tongue, lips, or objects.  She
also liked putting her or my own body fluids in my mouth. 
Menstrual blood might sound hard to take, but I was raised on it
and got used to that long before I had to deal with my own and
hers.  

Piss freaked me out at first, but it isn't bad.  Pussy juices,
sperm, saliva, it all went in my mouth.  Once in my mouth, it
all got swallowed.  I developed a taste for everything.  I also
developed a full range of actions while asleep.

This evolved slowly.  In the beginning, she was extremely
careful.  As things progressed, and I never woke up, she'd push
the limits.  She discovered that she could whisper suggestions
in my ear and direct my dreams, or so she thought.  One night,
she took her tampon from her pussy and poised it at my lips,
whispering, "Would you like to suck on my dickie, Connie?  Can I
put my dickie in your mouth?"

I nodded groggily.  She'd say, "Will you suck on my dickie if I
do?"  

I nodded and said, "Uh huh," then opened my mouth.  She inserted
the tampon and I sucked on it as though it were a little boy's
cock.  This tickled her to no end.  She also liked a variation
on this theme that I call the old switcheroo.  She uses two
tampons.  One goes in my mouth, the other goes in my pussy or
hers depending on who is having her period.  After a few
minutes, switcheroo.  The ultimate is those rare occasions when
we both flow, the triple switcheroo.  

They did do one thing that bothered me a great deal when it
first happened.  They liked getting Daddy's semen in my pussy. 
If he ever came on my body, Mom would insist that he scoop up
the semen with his finger and put in inside me.  Eventually, he
learned how to ejaculate inside me by either jerking off with a
few inches inside me, or jerking off on the outside, then
sending his cock all the way in as he climaxed.  

I never knew if they were intentionally trying to get me
pregnant, or whether they were simply irresponsible.  I sweated
out those first few months, but relaxed after nothing happened. 
I learned to like the idea of taking Dad's semen in my pussy. 
The risk they we were taking made the act all that more
exciting.  It wasn't long before I looked forward to getting
pregnant if it happened.

They also dribbled the sperm in my mouth while I faked sleep. 
In the beginning, their choices were evenly split between the
two places.  I wanted my father's most intimate of body fluids
in either.  I developed a craving for the taste, and when I felt
it in my pussy, it gave me a warm, sexy feeling.  When Mom
discovered how to make me suck a tampon, it was an easy
transition to replace the tampon with my Dad's cock.  That's how
we added cock sucking to the list of things I could do in my
sleep.

After one year of taking his sperm without a pregnancy
resulting, I noticed a change in their behavior.  My pussy took
precedence as the orifice of choice.  Also, the frequency
increased from two or three times a week to a nightly event.  In
addition, we started doing some regular fucking.  Mom used the
same dream intervention technique that proved so effective for
cock sucking.  I was lying perfectly still, as usual, with
Daddy's cock half way in.  She says, "Connie, I have a nice big
dickie, would you like me to put it in your pussy?"  

I was so fucking horny, I said, "Uh huh."

Dad pushed all the way in.  Mom said, "Does it feel good having
my cock in your pussy, Connie?"

"Ummmm!"  I wiggled my pussy on Dad's cock.  He drew out and
went back in, ten times faster than he'd ever dared before.  He
began a steady in and out stroke, and my hips met each thrust. 
Before long, we were fucking.  I even got to cum like a real
woman, showing some feeling, a wet dream of sorts, but it was
great.  Dad also got to fuck a load deep in my cunt, and I'm
sure he enjoyed that freedom.  Before, he had to cum passively,
now he could grunt and groan and give my cunt a relatively good
humping.  Mom was ectatic watching Dad fuck my sleeping body.  

Mark got off on it too, masturbating for the first time in his
ghostly condition.  I knew he liked looking at my body, and I
liked having my body put on display for him.  I enjoyed daytime
sessions mostly because they gave Mark a great view, and I could
see everybody through my partially sealed eyelids.  Dad wasn't
all that keen on having Mark witness his dirty deeds, but then
Dad couldn't see Mark's ghost.  I couldn't either, but then I
was sound asleep.  Like I said, Mark had it made and eventually
took more advantage of his unique position.  This pleased me
greatly, but drove Dad to distraction.  It didn't matter what
Mark did, Mom could not see him, hear him, or feel him.  When
Mom was focused on me, Mark ceased to exist.

When Mom and Dad began to concentrate on my pussy, Mark filled
my mouth with his sperm.  When he first started doing that, he'd
jerk off in his hand and bring it to my lips, one finger at a
time.  He got more daring as time passed, and would get close
enough to cum on my face.  This is what shook Dad, because his
face was often near the scene.  When Mark got away with doing
that, he tried the next logical escalation, getting his cock in
my mouth.  Doing this got in Dad's way, but rather than
acknowledge Mark's presence, Dad gave him room to work.  I
couldn't have been more pleased.  I got to eat sperm and get a
womb full.

After another six months with no pregnancy, I was sure I had
nothing to worry about.  Mom and Dad seemed intent on
succeeding.  By now, I knew they wanted me pregnant.  That
knowledge excited me.  It was so dirty and perverted, it had to
turn me on.  They went to extremes to do the job right.  There
were days when I got fucked three times before dark, and three
times during the night.  I discovered the joy of waking from a
true sound sleep to a fucking.  

I also discovered the joy of receiving the sperm Daddy put in
Mom when they had sex.  If she sucked his cock, she'd bring it
to me in her mouth and push it in my hole with a kiss to my cunt
while Dad held my ass up and my legs fell open wide, very wide. 
If he fucked her pussy, she'd stand by my hip and bring
fingerful at a time into my pussy as she scooped it off her leg
or dug it out of her hole.

As each month went by with no success, Mom became quite
frustrated.  When I'd start my period, she'd yank the tampon out
and smear my face with the blood, sticking the tampon in my
mouth before storming off, leaving Dad to clean me so I wouldn't
awaken to the mystery of a bloody face.  When my next period
arrived, she did the same thing, but took Dad with her.  

When I looked at my face in the mirror the next morning, I was
in a quandary.  I looked like a sioux warrior with bad warpaint
skills.  How is the game played when you can't ignore the
obvious.  Do I confront them with questions?  Do I hide it and
keep quiet.  Where was the rule book?  I washed it off and said
nothing.  When I went down, Dad looked relieved, Mark looked
relieved, Mom looked like a woman suffering from amnesia. 
"There's our little girl.  Sweetheart, are pancakes fine, or
would you rather have French toast?"

I missed my next period.    

Mom and Dad acted innocent when I told them I might be pregnant.
 When the test confirmed it, they acted outraged.  I was a bit
taken aback by this response.  I half expected a party or a
medal.  I reasoned that it was all part of the game on Dad's
part, but Mom surprised me.  She went so far as to accuse me of
whoring around.  She even grounded me for the duration of my
pregnancy.  Nine months, she said.

In the back of my mind, I always assumed an abortion would be in
store for me.  After Mark was born, they practiced the abortion
method of birth control.  Mom loved getting pregnant, announced
the fact right away, found ways of reminding us every day that
she remained pregnant, then waited till the last minute before
aborting it.  Trips to the abortion clinic, over one-hundred
miles away, were annual family outings.  There was no discussion
of an abortion for me.

They took me out of school and taught me at home.  I was only
fifteen and very confused.  It never dawned on me to challenge
my mother's delusions or to confront my father who played along.
 They both treated me like a whore.  They both acted angry and
humiliated by my bringing shame on the family by my sluttish
behavior.  

As my belly grew, so did their abuse.  Many times, I was forced
to listen to long lectures about decency and virtue while forced
to stand in the living room in front of my kid brother with my
dress up over my big belly and my panties at my knees.  One
reason I never challenged them was that I really got off on this
treatment; I willingly went along.  I even acted guilty for
them, thus encouraging them to increase their abuse.  

They added another twist in my seventh month.  She had Dad hit
my ass with a belt while they forced me to stand in the nude. 
Mark was always present, not the ghost, the real Mark.  Mom
would say, "Are you ever going to let those boys put their dirty
little penises in your vagina again, Connie?"  I'd cry, "No
Mommy!"  She'd then order one, two, or three smacks.  I loved
the way she used the plural, implying that there were many
lovers and many penises.  I thought the plural should be pini,
anyway.  Besides, Dad never hit hard.  It was mostly for show. 
This went on through a series of questions and a series of
whacks.  Afterwards, I'd be sent to bed.

The truly funny part was that no more than five minutes after I
was in bed, even in the dead of afternoon, in they'd creep.  I
was, of course, expected to be sound asleep, so that's how
they'd find me, naked and snoring.  The fucking was different,
too.  They no longer treated me as a sleeping person.  It was
more like a person in a coma.  I got manhandled into position,
then screwed without preparation.  With my big belly, I was
placed on my knees, shoulder on the mattress and done dog
fashion.  Mark liked this position, because he could get in
place with my head in his lap.  I sucked Mark's cock and took
Dad's screwing with my eyes being closed, my only concession to
feigning sleep.

Mom's delusions were different after I got pregnant.  Her bad
self was evident more and more, with her good self being
dominated.  Her good self was still there, but had moved into
the background.  I noticed the change.  Dad and Mark were never
as tuned in to her as I was.  Mark still thought he was
invisible, but I knew she could now see him quite clearly, and
was amused by what she saw.

Her two personalities seemed to be merging.  I always suspected
that she knew very well what her bad side was doing, and that
her amnesia was her game.  I could tell she fought internal
struggles, reconciling the two parts.  Her bad self had
selective perception, such as blocking out Mark.  Her good self
saw it all.  Denial was her survival technique.  She still had
two personalities, but both were moving closer to the center. 
Her good self became corrupted.  The punishment scenes and my
exposure to Mark were acts perpetrated by her good self.  

Her bad self altered also.  Her childlike fascination with pee,
poop, and body fluids, matured to a more adult preoccupation
with the genitalia and screwing.  In other words, the sex was
less dirty and more sexy.  Since I was also maturing, this was a
welcome change.  You can only ingest so much piss, pussy juice,
menstrual blood, and saliva before it ceases to be turn on. 
Poop smeared on your body just made you smell bad.  Fucking, or
sucking a hard cock, however, never grows old.  

I knew the game had long outlived it's utility.  No games were
necessary any longer.  Dad had overcome his inhibitions.  Mom
never had any, and Mark didn't seem to care if she saw him or
not.  As for me, I was hooked on being the family sex toy.  I
would do anything they wanted, anytime they wanted.  I looked
forward to the day when everything would be out in the open.  I
wanted to be used, misused, and abused with my eyes wide open;
however, I was determined not to be the one to crash the game. 
Dad and Mark didn't want to take any chances of blowing their
good deal, but Mom was in no hurry.  She liked taking advantage
of me in my sleep, so I slept, even through a butt fucking.

Eventually, I got the best of both worlds.  Mom had gone off on
an all day shopping spree, leaving me with Dad and Mark.  They
got horny, because in my ninth month, mom, my good Mom, forbade
me to wear any clothes, ever.  This was to humiliate me.  I was
also forced to show my spread beaver at all times.  Walking was
the only time my knees got near each other.  Consequently, I
made the guys horny.  They took matters into their own hands and
raped my repeatedly, even tying me down to do it.  I struggled
and fought, just for appearances sake.  It was a divine raping,
just as I'd always wanted.  After that, it was rape, rape, rape,
whenever Mom's back was turned.

I delivered a baby boy that Mom took control over.  She was
shameless in her abuse with him.  She never hurt the child, but
her good self was almost as bad as her bad self.  Her good self
made me keep his pacifiers in her pussy, and her good self
taught the child to also use her clit as a pacifier.  Sometimes,
I'd remove the pacifier and stick it in his mouth.  At other
times, I'd carry him to her as she laid back with her knees
drawn up and laid open, then settle his mouth at her clit.  We
teethed him on tampons, of course, and Mom fucked herself with
his tiny limbs.  It was nothing to see her naked, watching tv,
with my baby's leg in her pussy to the knee.

Her bad self brought my child to me in my sleep and treated me
to the same.  Furthermore, I got to suck his tiny penis and she
helped him fuck my pussy.  Baby boys do get erections, by the
way.

By this time, Mark was visible and brought into my sleep
sessions.  With his help, I was soon pregnant again.  This time,
I delivered a girl.  Two more boys, twins, followed her, and
another girl on my eighteenth birthday.  I moved out when I was
twenty-two, but Mom kept the kids.  I married at twenty-five,
and have three kids of my own.  My husband knows everything.  He
won't let me play games with our kids, but he loves to visit my
folks and watch me with my other kids.  The youngest is now
twelve.  My first boy is fifteen.  

The whole family comes to me in my sleep.  My husband is a
ghost.  He is also a voyeur.  Mark never had it so good, because
my husband is a ghost from the time he enters until the time he
leaves.  My family has never acknowledged him, said a word to
him, or given him a thing.  He roams freely from room to room
and sees it all.  Daddy has no inhibitions.  My kids don't know
the word.  Mom is bad all the time.  Her two selves have finally
merged.  

The sleep sessions are great, but if you've never been raped by
five little kids, you just don't know what you're missing. 
After we returned from our last visit, my husband stood looking
down on the sleeping forms of our three daughters.  They all
sleep nude in the same big bed.  The youngest is three, the
oldest is five.  I came up behind him, wrapped my arms about his
waist, unzipped him, and stroked his hard cock.  I whispered
sexily in his ear, "You could have your own private little
harem, you know.  I could make it happen.  No pussy is too young
for her own father's cock."

I never felt his cock so hard.  I gave it a good pumping while
he licked his lips.  After just a few seconds, all he said was,
"When can we start?"

"Pick one and bring her to the bedroom."  I left him and went to
our room.  I left the light on and sat with my back to the
headboard, legs apart, and a lifelike cock working in and out
slowly.  He entered carrying our youngest daughter, Cindy.  She
rubbed sleep from her eyes and looked at me.  I smiled and said,
"Sweetheart, Mommy and Daddy want to show you something fun to
do with your pussy.  Would you like that?"

Cindy's eyes focused on the dildo going in and out of my pussy.
 Her face came alive with interest.  All she said was, "Uh huh!"

                           The End 

  

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