Monday, 18 November 2013

DAUGHTER'S PRISON

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.

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