enovel Cherry Busters-Pussy Hungry Daddies Unknown [Future Story Codes]

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Cherry Busters-Pussy Hungry Daddies ....(70k)    by Unknown

GENERAL INTRODUCTION

Each of the girls telling her story within these pages was a virgin when she first had contact with incest. Sexual incidents which occur during the formative years, at a time when other sexual experiences do not exist, certainly have more affect on the sexual development of the person than adult experiences will.

Following are some of their stories;

Quinn R., 15-"I was aware of my daddy's erection as he pressed me down across his lap for the spanking. Then he reached inside the back of my panties...."

Aurelia B., 16-"I went to my brother's bedroom and climbed under the blankets with him. Then I reached into his shorts and felt the hardness there. I wanted him ... "

Elsie G., 16-"When I saw my father stroking his huge erection I reached into my panties to touch myself. But when I fell over and pushed the door open so that he saw what I was doing, he flew into a frenzied rage, ripping my clothes off...."

Grace H., 17-"Joe never gave me a chance to explain when he saw my other brother on top of me. He didn't know that Kevin had forced me. He slammed Kevin against the chest of drawers and then he called me a whore as he mounted me himself...."

CASE HISTORY ONE

SUBJECT: Aurelia B. AGE: Sixteen

INTERVIEW ONE

Aurelia was a very beautiful girl. Even unaffected as she was, without make up, her natural, healthy look came through. She had freckles and bright eyes and a winning smile.

Although she tried to use that smile on me and to come across in a sincere manner, I could tell that her nervousness was getting in the way. I tried to make her feel at ease.

Her light grey suit, fitted to her body so that it accented her slender grace and her sexual figure, seemed more fitting to an older woman. But, clearly, she wanted to seem older.

And so, her manner, her attempts to seem mature, were quite out of place with her girlish demeanor and look. As she continued her story and became more involved with telling me the events that had taken place, she slipped more and more into the attitude of a young girl.

I'm here, Doctor, because I'm in love. There are members of my family who think that's a crime.

Yes, I know that going to analysis isn't the same as going to jail. Let me amend that. There are members of my family who think that my love is a sickness.

You see, I'm in love with my brother. I guess society considers that wrong and it would be easier for me if I weren't in love with him, but what am I supposed to do?

Maybe you think I'm too young to know what love is, but I know.

Things weren't always easy for me and for my brother. Oh, we always had money. We could always have the things that we needed when we wanted them. But it was sort of lonely for us, especially after we lost our parents in that air crash in the Far East.

Father was a diplomat and mother was with him. It was a very sad time and it was a very difficult time. We knew that we would go to live with daddy's sister. We were packed off right away.

When that happened I suppose that I was thirteen and my brother was fifteen.

He was a real comfort to me. He wasn't like a big brother would usually be, a guy who would kid his sister and make things difficult for his sister. He was really warm and loving to me.

Our aunt and uncle were even worse than our parents as far as paying attention to us. We were basically on our own. We went to school and then came back to their house. We were always polite to them. We saw them at dinner. Aunt Carol would ask questions about school.

That was it as far as the relationship went for quite a while. Don't you see what they forced us into? It was almost as if my brother and I were living our own life in a home of our own. We went to school together and we lived in a different wing of the house from the old folks.

I suppose that Aunt Carol didn't want us around her bedroom, so they moved to a house that had one side for the two of them and one side for the two of us. We were up on the second floor out in the back of the house. No one else even used the stairway but us.

Aunt Carol was just a naturally cold woman. She wasn't affectionate. She wouldn't ever hug us or touch either of us. She would talk to us from the other side of the room.

And, after my parents were gone I needed affection. I just needed it. And she couldn't give it to me.

But my brother could give it to me. Remember that I was thirteen at that time and I was just really becoming aware of the sexual side of my nature. I became aware of the fact that I was hot for boys and the fact that I had been frigging myself for a few years by then.

My brother had often played a part in those fantasies when I would frig myself. I mean, I would think about seeing him naked or something like that. At that time my notions of sex were sort of vague. I suppose that just about the time I was thirteen was when I first really learned about sex, about the penis and the vagina and what happened between them.

It all excited me, but I didn't have time to worry about matters like that because I was going to pieces over the loss of my parents. I suppose that since my brother, Daniel, was fifteen at the time, he had been coming of age for a little while.

There were many nights when I would go into Daniel's bedroom and I would lie on his bed with him. He would be lying with the blanket over him and I would be lying over the blanket. Somehow that made it safe for the two of us. I had seen him in his underpants at that time.

You know, there would be times when he would go from his room to the bathroom and, since he slept in his underwear he didn't bother to pull anything on over them. He had a trim body. He had his hair cut short. It's a sandy blond like mine. He has sort of the same type of features that I have. His nose is turned up a little and he's always called cute. He hates it, he absolutely detests it if anyone calls him cute like that.

But, he can't help it. He has the freckles and that rounded chin and he looks cute.

His body was smooth at that time. Since then he's gotten a little hair on his chest which can be felt more than it can be seen. You know, it's very light blond hair on his chest.

I suppose that his body was what would have been called well-defined. He had been on the swimming team at school and he had virtually no hips and no ass.

But, I guess that I found him very attractive. No, that's not a guess. I did find my brother extremely attractive. He was, and he still is, a very good looking guy.

But, that wasn't what was on my mind when I used to go into his bedroom. I would be wearing my nightgown and the panties underneath it and he would be wearing just his undershorts. If the night was cold, he would wear his undershirt also.

I guess in the back of my mind I would think about being near his sexual young body. But, I would go to his room when I couldn't sleep. I was crying a lot at that time.

Since then I've heard that females who are crying about things are very susceptible as far as sex is concerned. That may be true and it may have been true for me, but I can't blame Daniel for taking advantage of me in any way.

I remember the night when I was lying there and it was starting to get chilly. He had his white tee shirt on and I pulled at the blanket saying, "Let me get underneath."

He held the blanket down and said, "You can't. It's not nice."

"What's wrong?" I asked, looking right at him. I guess I had just finished a good cry.

He blushed. I remember that he blushed. "I'm a boy and you're a girl."

"So what?" I said. "You're my brother and I'm your sister. So?"

"So, that doesn't matter. I can't have a girl poking around me under the blanket."

"What are you so ashamed of?" I asked him, a little naively.

"Come on, Aurelia," he said, tucking the covers tightly all around him.

"Some night I'll climb into your bed and I'll sleep with you all night just to prove that I ... Oh, Daniel, wouldn't that be wonderful? We could pretend that we're husband and wife."

"No!" he really seemed unusually irritated and annoyed by my saying that.

That was basically the end of the conversation that night. But, it stayed with me. I thought about sleeping with my brother. I mean that very literally and I'm not using any euphemisms there. I wanted to be in bed with him, under the blankets with him, and sleeping with his arms around me. It seemed like the most wonderful fantasy in the world.

If only I could sleep in bed with him I would be able to sleep through the night, I thought to myself.

I realized that there would be one problem for me. This all sounds naive, but I was sexually very naive at that time. I suppose that's what happens with a New England family like mine. I suppose it can happen with any sort of family anywhere. All I know is that I wasn't given any sex education and, to my knowledge, neither was my brother.

The one problem that concerned me was what to do about my frigging. After all, I always liked to fingerfuck myself before going to sleep. I figured that if I was lying in the same bed with my brother it would be difficult and embarrassing to do it.

I suppose that at one point or another while I was thinking about my own embarrassment I also thought about what it would mean for my brother. After all, I figured, he probably has some way of touching himself. He probably, I figured vaguely, likes to get some sort of satisfaction the same way I like to get mine. I had heard the phrase jerking off from some of the nasty girls at school, but I really hadn't paid much attention to it.

It would take a while for me to make the connection and realize that boys jerked off the way that girls frigged themselves and that it all went under the general name of masturbation.

All of this is in preparation so that you understand where my head was when the whole thing happened with my brother. This might make it a little clearer for you to understand how things happened the way they happened that particular night.

I had started to sleep and then I had a nightmare. Actually it wasn't a nightmare but some sort of dream involving my parents. It was more painful than a nightmare since it was so pleasant and beautiful and then I suddenly woke up. When I woke up and realized that it was a dream, realized that I really was at Aunt Carol's house instead of with my folks, I started to cry. I looked at the clock. I had been sleeping for some time because it was three in the morning.

We both had school the next day and I hated to wake up Daniel.

You see, none of this would have happened if my aunt had been available. I don't blame her for what happened so why should she blame me for what happened? I was crying and I didn't want to be alone. It was damn decent of my older brother that he was willing to let me annoy him at times like that when my aunt and uncle wouldn't be annoyed by me.

How much time had passed from the time of the accident? I'm really not sure. I guess it was already starting to get chilly so that it must have been the autumn. Yes, it was something like October because we were both having a hard time adjusting to the school year.

When I got into Daniel's room he was sleeping so soundly that I stood there for a long time, watching him. The blankets weren't tucked in tight all around him anymore.

Even though it was rather chilly, the blanket was pulled down to his waist and I could see that he was wearing an undershirt along with his underpants. He was lying on his side facing me, slightly on his back. And he was sleeping so soundly that even when I sat on the edge of the bed and shook his shoulder a little bit, he didn't wake up.

I looked at the blanket and at my brother and then I knew that I didn't want to disturb him. I thought about the things that I had been thinking for a while before then. I thought about the fact that if I just climbed into bed with him that might be enough to get me sleeping soundly. I pulled the blanket back and then slid under it and pulled it up over me.

Daniel was still sound asleep and I was feeling and hearing my heartbeat pounding because I was lying under the blanket next to him. My head was on the pillow, so close to his face that I could hear his breathing, in and out and in and out.

And then, I suppose I couldn't resist the impulse, I pressed my body close to his. He seemed to respond by moving his body a little bit, shifting his body.

I suppose that part of the problem was that I didn't know what to do with my right hand. I wanted to put it somewhere. First I put it under the pillow that was under my head and then I tried to lie on it, but no matter how I put it in that way I could feel the pressure of my body on my hand, cutting off the circulation in my arm.

He was lying on his right side and I was lying on my left side. I tried to just put my right hand along the side of my body but it wouldn't stay there. Finally, I rested my right hand down on the warm flesh of his hard, young stomach.

I could feel his body heat through the thin white fabric of his undershirt. For a long moment I kept my hand there and I felt his stomach rising and falling at the same tempo that I could hear him breathing. I felt close to my brother, so close that I could feel the passion in my body rising. It was the nearest I had ever gotten to him.

And then I suppose that I became bolder because I was touching him and he hadn't woken up. I moved my hand down a little so that I could feel the elastic waistband of his underpants. He continued to sleep and I brushed my hand along the front of his underpants.

At that time I had heard about cocks and about erections and I knew, in theory, what they were. But I had never seen one and I didn't know what one would look like or feel like. What I felt through the thin cotton fabric was something thick and fully hard. There was even a spot of moisture where the head was. I could never forget that.

I suppose that Daniel was having a wet dream sometime during that night.

If I had stopped then I suppose that I would have been okay. But, something inside me made me go further and further. I wanted my brother. I suppose, deep in my heart, I wanted to have him in the way that a husband and wife had each other. I suppose that when I said that to him I really didn't say it as a naive little girl, but said it because I meant it.

I pulled the top of his undershorts from his body and then put my hand inside them. Then I touched his penis with my fingers. First I just brushed my fingers along the meat and when I felt how hot it was I pulled them away. Then I finally wrapped my fingers around the shaft of it.

Then I started to stroke up and down on the thick thing. I was pulling at the flesh and it was inevitable that my brother would wake up as I was jerking him off.

"What are ... what ...?" He opened his eyes groggily and I suppose that at the beginning of it he must have thought he was dreaming. I can only wonder now how close that was to the content of his wet dream anyway. I kept my fingers wrapped around his penis when he opened his eyes and looked at me. I was afraid he would yell at me, but he didn't.

"Aurelia, you shouldn't," he whispered in a tense voice as his eyes met mine.

"I know I shouldn't." I looked right into his eyes then and didn't blink.

It really can't be said that he moved to kiss me or that I moved to kiss him. It was as if we shared the same thought at the same time and we both moved forward to kiss each other at the same time. Our lips met and we just kissed very softly.

The only time I had kissed a boy on the lips before that was at a dumb party that some girl had given back before we had gone to live with our aunt and uncle. The boys and girls played all these dumb kissing games. It was kid stuff.

She wanted us to play this game called the three minute game. Each girl had to choose a boy to go into the bedroom with her for three minutes. This girl's parents weren't home. I chose the most inoffensive boy I could pick, even though all of them were very childish.

When we got into the room he just giggled and I wouldn't let him near me. He chased me around the room and I threw a clock at him. The girl who had given the party was furious with me for breaking the clock and she didn't know how she would explain it to her mother.

Anyway, there were other games and when we played spin the bottle I had to let the boy kiss me. As you can tell, I wasn't very experienced at anything at that time.

That kiss from my brother was really the first kiss I ever got. I didn't do badly for a first kiss considering that I was also touching his penis at the same time.

I had never taken my fingers from around his penis. I kept them there and he climbed on top of me so that he was rubbing on top of me in an instant. We kept our lips joined together as he rubbed from side to side on top of me. He reached up under my nightgown and I didn't resist.

He was rubbing against my pussy lips, through the fabric of my panties. I spread my legs so that it would be even easier for him to do that. Then he reached into my panties and he was frigging me. That was the first time I had ever felt anything other than my own hand up against my pussy lips and I suppose that was the first time my brother had ever felt anything but his own hand around his penis.

I didn't know what I was doing, but I guess I brought him to orgasm. I was aware of the fact that he pushed my hand away from his cock and then I was aware of a sudden wetness as he was pulling away from me. He turned his back on me, pulling his hand out of my panties.

"What's the matter, Daniel? Did I do something wrong?" I asked him.

"You didn't do anything wrong," he assured me. "Please, you shouldn't be here." Then, a moment later, he added, "We both did wrong, Aurelia. We mustn't."

I left his bed and I can assure you that I didn't sleep at all for the rest of that night. I was upset by what happened. I wasn't so much upset that I had jerked off my brother and that he had frigged me as I was upset over the fact that he had rejected me.

Of course, now as I look back on it I can see that he rejected me because of his own fears and because of his own sexual guilt. I was too naive about sex to even realize how guilty I should have been feeling at that time. I'm not kidding, Doctor.

The following day my brother avoided me. I mean, I came down for breakfast and the housekeeper told me that Daniel had already had breakfast and had left for school. She said that he said something about having to be in early for a special project or something. I knew that he had only left early in an attempt to avoid me. That's all.

Anytime I tried to be near him, he had to rush off somewhere. He didn't come back home until it was time for dinner and then when we were at the table with my aunt and uncle he avoided my eyes. I thought that he hated me for what had happened the night before.

Finally, at night, I knocked on his door and he told me to go away. I started crying so that he could hear me cry. Then he came to the door. He was fully dressed. He ushered me into his room and he sat on his desk chair. Even though it was late in the evening, the time when we would usually climb into his bed together, he was sitting on the chair instead.

He didn't want to have a sexually threatening situation with me. I suppose he felt threatened.

"I don't hate you. I'm not mad at you," he said. "I hate myself and I'm mad at myself. Brothers and sisters shouldn't do things like that. We mustn't do things like that."

He made me feel ashamed and for a while it put a terrible strain on our relationship. It was eating away at my insides. I knew where it would lead if we continued, but everything inside me was calling out for us to continue. I couldn't help myself.

"Do you want to lose your cherry so that you're not a virgin anymore for your husband? Is that what you want?" I don't know if that was naivete on his part at that time or if he was just trying to throw a scare into me. Now that I'm sixteen I know that there aren't any girls who are still virgins when they get married. He told me that if he got carried away with me and if he lost control with me then he would end up taking my cherry and he would never forgive himself for that. I didn't want to make him feel guilty, but I kept thinking more and more that I would never love anyone the way I loved my brother and that I would rather let him have my cherry than let any other man, even the man I would marry.

I knew what I was doing, I knew what I was planning when I climbed into his bed the next time. I rubbed my body against his while he was sound asleep. Then I started to pull off his underwear and I could feel his erection. I guess it got hard when he slept.

Then I pulled up my nightgown. I wasn't wearing any panties. I had done that on purpose. by that time he was already waking up. He opened up his eyes and he started to protest, but I pressed my lips against his lips and he melted. I felt his arms wrapping around me.

It was right before Christmas time. I guess I was especially depressed because it was the first Christmas without my parents. But, that made up for it, Doctor. It made up for the sad holiday season that I had my handsome brother as my lover then.

We didn't speak. He was on top of me. My nightgown was bunched up under my arms and his underpants were pulled down. He kicked them off his legs and then pulled his tee shirt up so that it was bunched up under his arms also. I felt his whole naked body pressing against my whole naked body.

Oh, it's the end of our session, Doctor? I'll continue my story next time.

INTERVIEW TWO

Doctor, I know I had started to tell you about the night I actually lost my virginity. I'm not sure just where I was when we stopped, but I guess I had gotten to the point where I was in bed with my older brother and we were both actually naked together.

I remember raising up my hips and spreading myself wide open. I suppose there was some impulse in me that was announcing the fact that I really wanted to get laid.

It wasn't that I was a slut or anything. I had never been loose and free with the boys in school. Oh, yes. I remember that I already told you about my first kiss. So, I had never gone further than just playing those childish kissing games.

When he had his cock head between the lips of my pussy I thought I was going to catch fire from the intense pressure that was spreading me wide open. I pushed up against him trying to get the flared head of his cock to actually enter the interior lips of my cunt.

I wanted him inside me. Eventually he pushed forward and I could feel the broad cock head that was holding me open. I pushed myself up against him and he pushed himself down into me.

Once the interior pussy lips were spread apart I could feel his cock head right up against the delicate wall of flesh that guarded my virginity. I knew that the next time he exerted even the slightest bit of pressure on his cock he would bust my cherry.

And then he did it. He pushed forward and the cock head was through the delicate membrane of flesh that was my hymen. I could feel the ripping. I could feel the heat which I suppose was blood.

Then he just stopped with the head of his cock right beyond the place where my virginity had started. He looked down into my eyes. I suppose that when he pressed his body down against my body, flattening me out even more, he spread me open even wider.

He pushed me down like that so that he could get his lips right up against my lips and kiss me. I enjoyed that kiss. It was a very special kiss. The first kiss as lovers. The first one after his thick joint had busted my hymen.

My brother was whispering in my ear. "Are you okay, baby?" he asked.

I nodded my head, knowing that he could feel the movement against the side of his face. Then he started to work his prick into me. It moved in a little at a time. I could tell that it was stiff as an iron poker and that it was pushing me wide apart as it went. If he had wanted to, he could have shoved the full length of it into me, so that I was stuffed to the hilt. But, he held back pushing all of it into my body and instead he worked it in slowly.

It was so loving, the way he did it. Everything he did to me was so loving.

Finally he pushed one last little bit and I could feel the full length of the cock stuffed all the way inside me. The flared head of it was up against the depths of my pussy and the flare of the glans was spreading open the walls of cunt flesh.

His balls were resting right up against the flesh that was between my thighs. I could feel the ticklish massaging that was going on with the contact of the testicles and the wispy hairs that were on the sacs. They swayed back and forth and rubbed against me.

He pulled his prick back out of my cunt and I could feel a tingling, an urging sensation. That is to say, it was a sensation that seemed to urge the juice out of my pussy flesh.

I could feel the pussy walls growing thicker and thicker because of the delicate massage.

They were like sponges that were being filled with liquid and were making my love tunnel tighter all the time. I suppose that was forcing my older brother to slam in a little harder with his cock.

No matter how he slammed in though, I was meeting every stroke. He knew that I was willing. Willing, hell! I wanted it. I wanted it very much and I was making him do it harder to me.

Each time he pushed forward into me I would raise my hips up so that the length of his cock would really slam hard into me and then when he would pull back out of me I would relax my thighs and slide back a little onto the bed so that he would then be able to slam even further into me the next time he shoved forward. I can't keep track of how long he fucked me that first night. It turned out to be the first time for both of us.

The problem was that I loved it.

And, that was the beginning of the story for me. I had wanted to make it with my older brother. I knew, when I was thirteen, that I loved him and only him.

Doesn't this give testimony to how little my aunt and uncle even noticed us that the two of us continued doing these things for the better part of two years, for longer than two years, and my aunt and uncle never even noticed that we were having a love affair.

Let me see. You want to know about our social lives and our sex lives aside from each other. Well, of course both of us had friends in school. I would say that I had chosen a rather select group of girls for my friends. I wasn't a snob in the usual sense, but I suppose that I always wanted to have friends who were intelligent.

I should say that one girl who was rather catty in school had been having a fight with me once and she accused me, out of nowhere, of only choosing unattractive girls for friends. She told me that I was beautiful and that I liked to show up all my friends.

I guess I see a point here, Doctor, in that I did like to be with girls who didn't have dates on the weekend. There were boys who asked me out, but I never really wanted to go with any of them.

There was one period when that changed though. It was the one serious fight I had with my brother. He was going out with this girl named Eleanore. He was taking her to this special dance that all the sports teams in school were holding. I started to cry and he told me that the guys in school would think he was queer or something if he didn't take a girl to the dance.

I threw a whole tantrum but he went with Eleanore to the dance that weekend. That Sunday he came to talk to me and he told me that the guys in school thought he was strange because he didn't go out with a girl and so he was going to start taking out Eleanore.

So, I told him that if he wanted to go out with Eleanore he could forget about fucking me.

I was mad and he made me madder because he was being so understanding about it all. I accused him of everything in the book. I accused him of not enjoying sex with me and of not liking me because he only liked me for sex. He insisted that he hadn't been playing me along and that he really did care about me and enjoy sex with me both, but that he was worried about our relationship. I told him it was only other people who made us worry about our relationship.

But, there was a period of time there when my brother and I weren't sleeping together.

Actually, during that period there was another sexual incident. Even my brother doesn't know about this. There was a guy that I went out with one night. No, not exactly. Actually I had gone to a party at my girlfriend's house. This girl, Fran, was always giving parties.

I was going to stay over at Fran's house that night. But, I had a lot of freedom because it turned out that Fran's parents were out of town for the weekend and they had left her older brother in charge of the house. He went to college and he didn't care what happened to her.

There were a couple of college boys at the party and I'm afraid I really came across like a slut that night. I knew that I was the prettiest girl at that party. You remember what I told you they said about me in school, about the way I only picked unattractive girls for friends.

It was more than that though. I would have looked pretty good compared to anyone that night. I had fixed myself up very nicely. One or two of the college boys were nice looking and I decided to be very forward. I ended up in a bedroom upstairs with one of the boys.

The two of us stumbled in together. We had both been drinking and I know that I wasn't used to drinking at that age. So, we went into this bedroom and ended up on the floor together.

He immediately tossed me down and started to pound on top of me. He was grabbing. Everything he was doing was in such a hurried and forced manner. He pulled at my clothes. He tugged my panties down and he actually ripped my dress a little bit.

When I complained about him ripping my dress he slapped me and called me a tease.

"I'm not gonna let any little tease play around with me," he grumbled.

I hated him after that. But, I didn't know how to get rid of him. Well, I didn't get rid of him. He had me. He managed to fuck me. He never even bothered to pull his clothes off or to let me take my clothes off. He just pushed his dick right into my body and then he pumped three or four times. That was it. He shot. I didn't even know he had cum, to tell you the truth. It was really nothing. Zero. Then he pulled out of me, rolled over and went to sleep.

After that happened I wondered if all guys were as inconsiderate. That was the only other one during all the time I was together with my brother.

I don't know what happened with my brother and Eleanore in terms of sex. I didn't ask and I didn't want to ask. I suppose that he probably had an incident similar to mine. I can imagine, now that I'm a little older and a little more detached from it, that she played games with him and pretended that she didn't want it.

The trouble was, Doctor, that my brother and I had gone beyond those immature games because we had been enjoying sex together and it was a wonderful thing.

It was really a step backwards to try to get involved with these people who are our ages or even a little older. And so we both settled into the sexual relationship together.

During this last year we had been making plans for the future. We decided that college out of town was best for Daniel, even though it would mean that he and I would be separated. We thought that it would be healthy for the two of us to be separated in that way, and although he would have been free to do as he pleased I figured that I wouldn't get involved with any other guys in his absence.

What we were counting on was giving ourselves a separation period from each other and then for me to apply to the same college where he was going and to join him in that city. We were figuring that Los Angeles would be a good city for that.

Then we really could have set up housekeeping together. My aunt couldn't have objected to my moving in with my older brother. After all, he would be doing a good deed by looking after me and I would be doing a good deed by cooking and taking care of his apartment while I went to school. In essence, Daniel and I would have had a married relationship.

But I suppose that the two of us became a little sloppy about our relationship. It used to be that I would never spend the night in his bed and that he would never spend the night in mine. Even though we virtually had the wing to ourselves, and there was so little chance of anyone else coming up there, we didn't want to take a chance.

But, when it was getting closer to the time of his high school graduation, and the two of us were making plans together like that, we both got sloppy about things, as I said.

My aunt came up to our rooms. It was a Saturday morning and the two of us had slept in my bed the previous night. We hadn't intended to sleep in one bed, but after he had fucked me we were both too exhausted to get up, so we just slept like that.

Now, that last time I would have expected Aunt Carol was on an early Saturday morning, but it seems that there was a delivery of a package for me and she knocked on my door lightly before pushing it open. What she saw when she opened the door was both of us naked with my brother sprawled half-way on top of me. She screamed at us and called for my uncle.

Since Daniel was eighteen they kicked him out. That was it. They said that they would take no more responsibility for him since they were no longer legally responsible for him.

Of course I ran away from home, Doctor. I was the one who was to blame more than Daniel and the thought of him off on his own, unable to afford college, having to find a job, really upset me.

I had called both my aunt and uncle a lot of mean names before leaving and my aunt told me she thought I was a perverted slut and that she would have me locked up in a mental hospital if she could. After I had run away from home they had a legal right to send me to the youth supervision authorities. I don't even know where my brother is now.

Oh, Doctor, don't tell me not to cry. To hell with you. Fuck you. Fuck my Aunt Carol. Maybe if she got fucked she wouldn't be such a selfish and sour old bitch. I can't believe that she was ever related to my mother and father. They weren't cold animals like she is.

I will not calm down, Doctor. I want my brother. My brother is the only one who ever loved me. He was the only one who ever gave me anything. I gave him my love and I gave him my body and that does not make me a perverted slut.

If you want me to calm down you can go to the waiting room and get my Aunt Carol and you could tell her that she has to apologize to me for calling me a perverted slut, because I may only be sixteen but I'll tell you something I know for sure. I know that I have had love made to me by my brother that is more beautiful and more special than any sex she's ever had in her life. I don't care that he's my brother.

Why is it that people who aren't there to help you and who aren't there when you need them suddenly feel they have a responsibility to interfere with your life just at the point when you don't need them and just at the point where you want them out of your life?

If anything bad has happened to my brother because of Aunt Carol, I will see to it that she regrets what she did until the day she dies. You can put that on the record, Doctor. You can tell the police I said that. I don't know what I would do to her, but I would see to it that she has to pay for her treatment from now until she's gone.

All I want is to love my brother, Doctor? Is that so much to ask for?

CONCLUSION

Aurelia's problem is not simple. Because of her loneliness in a time of great need she turned toward the only loving soul in her life, her brother. However, she turned to him in too severe a way. She has turned away from all others in her life.

A girl of sixteen who has had no variety in her social encounters and in her dealings with boys cannot make a lifelong commitment to a member of the opposite sex, If that boy is, in fact, her brother, then the commitment is foolhardy and grows, most certainly, out of a lack of other contacts, and out of a need for other contacts.

Counseling for the girl and her brother together should be performed by a specialized therapist who doesn't get upset by the subject o,. incest. However, first the boy must be found and returned home. However forgivable any of the aunt's previous actions were, kicking the boy out of the house at a time of such crisis was a purely impetuous act on her part and was certainly the most foolish act for all involved.

There is the potential to save the structure of a family here. The girl's anger at her aunt and uncle is an indication that she really longs for their love and for their approval. If she didn't wish to have these things then her response would be apathy.

CASE HISTORY TWO

SUBJECT: Grace H. AGE: Seventeen

INTERVIEW ONE

Grace was a very beautiful young woman. She was built small, with slight, graceful bones and a delicate, fragile appearance. Her breasts and hips were not wide or thick, but there was something decidedly feminine in her build. Perhaps it was her graceful, birdlike appearance.

Her black hair was long and straight, pulled back in a simple pony tail. She wore a very plain white blouse and a plain dark skirt which covered her knees. I noticed that as she sat and as she moved she emphasized modesty and old-fashioned virtues much more than she emphasized feminine wiles and seductive manners.

She spoke so softly that at first it was difficult to hear her. It was only later on that she started to raise her voice, when she demonstrated that she trusted me more.

Doctor, this is very embarrassing for me. I was brought up to be a lady. Do you know what I mean?

Our family is Greek and we're very old world people. I was taught to be a good girl. You know?

Anyway, the problem happened with my two brothers and I guess the best thing I could do would be to just tell you the story and you can figure it out as you like.

I suppose that I had sexual desires when I was young. I always had sexual desires. I can admit that to you because you're a medical person and you're supposed to know these things. It's good to hear you tell me that it was okay for me to have sexual desires. Thank you, Doctor.

But, you see, in my family it was always considered that women didn't like to have sex at all.

I can give you the example. I have this cousin of mine. Her name is Ilsa and she's been a big tramp for a lot of years. She just got married. She knew that I knew what a tramp she was and she was talking to me about her marriage. She told me that the night before her marriage she had sat down with her mother and her mother had told her that she wouldn't like it much and that she would only do it because she loved her husband.

She said that she wanted to laugh in her mother's face, but she didn't have the heart to do that.

I guess it is kind of hard to realize that there are people in the world who think that you're not supposed to enjoy sex. I guess even now I'm on the borderline.

I guess that I was just on the verge of wanting to enjoy sex when the whole mess started with my two brothers. You see, my brothers are very different from each other.

Joe is my oldest brother. He's very good to me. At least he was always very good to me. Kevin is the middle brother. He's older than I am. But, in the family, he's known as the surly one.

Even from the time I was very little I always kept away from Kevin and Joe would always take me along with him when he went places. I suppose that I kept my virginity for Joe. I mean, I didn't keep my virginity so that my older brother could take it from me. I kept it because it was something that meant something to him. It meant a lot to him.

From the time I was about twelve he would always say things to me like, "Hey, I don't ever wanna have to be ashamed of my little sister. You know what I mean?"

And I would tell him that I knew what he meant. I guess I had kept my reputation as a good girl in school mostly because I didn't want to embarrass Joe. I didn't want Joe to have to deal with being ashamed of me if the boys thought that I was easy.

I really was a virtuous girl in school. I can tell you the truth, since you're a doctor. I used to go home and touch myself, down there. You know what I mean? I used to touch myself at night with the lights out in my room. I used to think about doing it with the very boys I wouldn't let do it to me at school. When I would go to confession I would confess that I was a hypocrite and I would confess that I had sexual thoughts.

What I wouldn't even tell the priest was that I had sexual thoughts about both of my brothers. I suppose that it was one thing to have them about Joe, since he was my loving brother, and quite another to have them about Kevin, who always acted really rotten to me.

But, then again, Kevin always acted rotten to everyone in the family.

He was just an unfriendly sort of person. I guess that's the way he was.

I guess that I got the closer feelings for my oldest brother. I mean, Kevin would never say anything to me about keeping my virginity for my husband and making him proud of me. That was always the sort of thing that Joe would say.

I even had a fantasy of my adult life. My fantasy was that Joe would bring home some friend of his once we were all grown and that friend of his, who would be just like him, would marry me and maybe Joe would marry that guy's sister and then all four of us would live in a two-family house. In this fantasy, Joe's wife became my best friend and I would always be near my oldest brother. But there were other fantasies.

I mean, what I just told you is an example of a really innocent fantasy that I used to have. But, there were other fantasies. I would have fantasies about seeing my brothers naked and about having sex with them. That puts it pretty bluntly.

Sometimes, when I would go into the bathroom I would reach into the clothes hamper and take out a pair of underpants that had just been tossed in, that were still fresh, and I would sniff them while I fingered myself. I didn't even know how to confess such things to the priest.

But, it turned out to be something like that that finally did me in. I mean, I finally had trouble that was originally caused by Kevin and it was all because of underpants.

Joe had just finished taking his shower and he had gotten dressed and left the house. Joe and Kevin shared a room and I had a small room that was up part of a flight from their room. This was a crazy house and it was tall and narrow. The only way I can explain it was that my room was the highest in the house, but it wasn't really an attic. I guess you would call the house a very old-fashioned style of split level that was really split apart.

To go to the bathroom I had to go down about half a flight of steps and I was on the same level as my brothers' bedroom. Down some stairs from that was the large bedroom where my mother and father slept and they had their own bathroom off the bedroom. Down some stairs from that was the main floor which was a front parlor and a kitchen in the back.

Anyway, I would have to wait for Joe to finish in the bathroom because he was out of school and he was working in the daytime. It was considered that working was more important than going to school and so Kevin and I had to take a back seat to the oldest.

Kevin was in his senior year of high school and he kept on saying that he was just going to move out of the house after he graduated, unlike Joe who worked and contributed to the household. My father said that he would be glad to get rid of his middle son.

Anyway, where was I? I was saying that Joe had just finished up with his shower and I went into the bathroom. The room was all steamed up. You know Joe had left his undershorts on the floor. I saw that they were spread out as if he had stepped right out of them on that spot. I locked the bathroom door. I was sure that I had locked the bathroom door. It was only later on that I found out that the lock had broken the previous day. The lock turned, but I didn't know that the piece in the door jamb was broken through so that it wasn't catching on anything. Even though the handle didn't turn, the door could just be pulled open.

Anyway, not knowing that I thought that I was safe by locking the door. I picked up the undershorts and I brought them to my nose. I inhaled the musky aroma of my brother's crotch.

This wasn't the first time that I had ever done something like this. I knew what Joe's crotch smelled like. I knew that he had worn these undershorts to bed and that they had been rubbing against his cock and his balls all through the night.

Once, when I had been really lucky, there had been a little bit of thick white liquid inside the front of the shorts. I knew immediately that it had to be cum, even though I had no experience with boys. I knew that my oldest brother had probably been jerking off.

I actually, aside from sniffing it, brought my tongue up against the surface of the shorts and licked at it. But then I pulled my tongue away before I got a real taste. I was too frightened by it to really do what I wanted to do and taste my brother's cum.

Anyway, I was telling you about the one particular morning when Joe had left his shorts on the floor of the bathroom. I brought them to my nose and I started to inhale the aroma of his crotch.

Then I peeled off my robe and I was naked undernath. So, I was standing in the middle of the room and I was frigging myself as I inhaled the shorts. I had turned on the water of the bathtub so that if Kevin listened from outside the door he would think I was just getting ready for my bath.

As it is, I don't know what Kevin thought, bat he opened the door on me that instant. I was frozen in the spot. I had my fingers right up against my pussy slit with one finger between the lips, the tip of it rubbing right up against my clitoris.

That would have been bad enough, but what was terribly incriminating was that I was inhaling the aroma of Joe's undershorts. I couldn't even talk. I couldn't say anything.

Kevin started to laugh and he pushed the door shut. "You get out," I told him.

"Shut up," he said to me in his usual snide manner. He was blocking my way.

I grabbed my robe and pulled it in front of me. "I'll tell mama."

"Will you tell her that when I walked into the bathroom accidentally, not knowing you were in here, that I saw you with your fingers in your pussy and Joe's underwear to your nose?"

"You knew I was in here, Kevin. You could hear the water running."

"And what will Joe think when he knows about the way you were sniffing his shorts?"

He really had me then. He knew that I would sooner die than have Joe lose his respect for me.

"What do you want, Kevin?" I asked him, clutching the robe in front of me.

"First," he said, pulling rudely at the robe. "I want you to get that out of the way. I want to have a good look at you so that I can see what you've got there."

"How dare you?" I said, stepping backwards quickly, almost stumbling into the bathtub.

He stepped toward me in a very threatening way. "You have a choice," he said to me. "You can do as I tell you to do or you can have me tell the whole thing to Joe and our parents."

Now, I have to be frank with you, Doctor. When I had a sane moment after all this had happened I realized that my response to my brother should have been that he should just try to tell them and I would deny it all. My parents would certainly have believed me before they would have believed Kevin, even though in this case he was the one telling the truth.

But, I think that I was so upset and so worried and that I felt so guilty, that I went along with Kevin out of fear more than anything else. There is, of course, the other question. Perhaps I went along with Kevin because I wanted to? But, I don't know how valid that is. I just don't know.

Anyway, I started to cry and I started to beg him. "Oh, please, Kevin. Don't make me do anything like that."

He was grossly rubbing the front of his undershorts, since that was all he was wearing. He laughed at me and told me that our parents weren't at home and that Joe had already left, so he was going to do it to me right there on the floor of the bathroom.

I tried to rush past him and he grabbed me by the wrist and held me in place. I squealed a little bit and he warned me again that if I didn't go along with him he would tell our parents everything I had been doing.

He ordered me to lie down on the floor of the bathroom. "Get down there, bitch."

"But, Kevin, I'm a virgin. If you take my cherry then I can't get married."

I was crying when I was saying that. I knew that there were plenty of girls who were married these days who had lost their cherries years before. But, I was frightened of him and I was just saying what I thought of saying. I wanted him to release me.

It never occurred to me that I could have released myself. I'm just seeing that now.

I was naked and lying on the floor of the bathroom and I was sobbing. But the excuse I kept on using was about my virginity. I didn't want him to pop my cherry.

He told me not to worry. He told me that I would still be a virgin and that he would not pop my cherry, but he said that he was going to get his pleasure anyway.

That's when he pulled down his shorts. I have to admit to the fact that, try as I might I couldn't take my eyes away from his penis. I had never seen one before and I kept on looking at it.

It was already well on its way to being completely hard. He worked his fingers over the length of it and it kept on growing longer and thicker all the time.

Then it was standing out straight from his body. It was waving in front of him and he was lightly touching it, just tickling it. Then he knelt over me and said, "You play with it."

He had to repeat the command and then he took hold of my hand. When he was actually guiding my hand I didn't resist him anymore. I let him lead my hand directly to the base of his penis and then he wrapped my fingers around it. The heat of it startled me at first.

Then he commanded, "Come on and jerk on it. Jerk it off for me."

I started to stroke up and down on the length of it and then I really put some feeling into it. My thought was that if he could get his satisfaction that way then he wouldn't have to do anything else to me. At that point, after getting the thrill of seeing his penis, the thought of anything else was so terrifying that I just wanted it over with.

Up to that point I'll admit that I was feeling sexually aroused. The idea of being naked with my nasty brother around really made me hot. But, I suppose there was a point where my sexual arousal turned into fear and then the fear was the prevalent feeling.

He grabbed some hand lotion from the medicine chest and I watched him putting a little on his fingers as I continued to stroke up and down on his penis. Then he reached those fingers around to my ass and he started to stroke them up and down along the crack of my ass.

I felt my brother pushing one finger forward and it went right into my ass hole.

That was quite a jolt for me, quite a shock. All the muscles in my body tensed up when I felt that strange sensation. I tried to push him out and he slapped the cheeks of my ass.

"I told you that you were gonna go along with me for your own good."

"But, what are you doing to me?" I asked him. "It hurts back there."

"You wanna keep your cherry?" he asked in a very threatening way.

My mouth fell open. I nodded my head, unable to speak. He pointed at me and jabbed his finger right into my nipple as he said, "If you wanna keep your cherry and you know what's good for you, you'll cooperate with me. If you don't wanna cooperate then I'll have an easier time just fuckin' your pussy and takin' your cherry, anyhow."

I was close to hysteria at that point. I didn't see any other options than the ones that my brother was offering me. I nodded my head, unable to fight him off.

Then he pushed me onto my side and told me, "Get on your stomach. It'll be easier to start that way."

Something about that horrible position I was in was really getting to me. I was terrified. He had me stretched out on my belly on the cold tile floor of the bathroom.

"Remember that I'm only doin' it this way because you're my sister and I wanna keep your virginity for you. I'm doin' it this way because I'm bein' good to you."

Then I felt his finger plunging deep into my rectum. I felt as if my stomach was going to be pulled out of me along with his finger. Then he started to slick up the length of his cock with the same sort of grease that he had pushed into my rectum.

I don't want you to think I was some sort of dummy, Doctor, but that was the first time I really made the connection as to what he was going to do. I had heard jokes that involved ass fucking. But they were jokes heard at a distance and I didn't really understand them.

But, anyway, he rubbed the head of his dick up and down along the crack of my ass. Then he pushed the head forward and I could feel it pressing right up against the hole.

He knew what he was doing and he knew just what he wanted to do.

I whimpered out and he grabbed my hair as he pushed forward. I could feel the flared head of his cock spreading open the tightly clinging hole of my anus. Then he pushed harder and harder and finally the flared head of the cock was inside me.

He pulled back a little bit and I could feel the pressure as the flared head was pulling now at the inside of the sphincter. Then he pushed forward and I could feel him pulling the cheeks of my ass into my bottom hole along with his thrusting cock.

Reaching down, he pressed his hands against both of the cheeks of my ass. He pulled me open even wider as he pushed his prick into me at the same time.

Then there was a real lunging sensation. He pushed the whole thing into me at once. It was a sensation of-how can I describe this in a way that would be at all delicate, I'm afraid there is no such thing, Doctor-but it was like shitting backwards. It was like the bowel movement was going back into your body instead of out of it.

I'm sorry I worded it that way. That doesn't sound pleasant.

But, I'll tell you the truth, Doctor. It felt very pleasant. I felt this rubbing against the nerves that were all around my ass hole and it was really terrific.

He started to work his penis in and out of me without even giving me a chance to relax. I was so greased up that it was a simple matter for me to relax enough. Either that or, as Kevin later said to me, I was just a natural for getting fucked up the ass.

Kevin was always saying things like that to me. I knew what he was trying to do. He wanted to keep me off my balance so that he could keep on taking advantage of me. As long as he kept making me feel guilty about the sexual thing, then he could keep it going.

He really pounded into me and I was raw when he finished. But then he said that since I had done so well in that position he wanted to do another position right away.

I whined and whimpered and told him that I didn't want it. He started to finger my pussy. I mean, you have to remember that the two of us were sitting naked on the floor of the bathroom.

Then he pushed me backwards so that I was lying on my shoulders. He was taking advantage of all those years of guilty fantasies that I had had, imagining what it would be like with my brother.

You can hear what I'm doing, Doctor. I've been spending this whole session making excuses for my actions, telling you ways in which it was my brother's fault. But, I was the one with the fantasies. If I didn't have the fantasies in the first place, then none of it would have happened.

Well, would I have been sniffing Joe's undershorts if I hadn't had sexual fantasies about him?

Okay, maybe in your book having sexual fantasies about my brother isn't a crime, but as far as my family is concerned it is a crime. How else can I explain this to you?

Anyway, he got me lying on my back and then he tossed my legs up over my head and he pressed the head of his cock against my ass hole. He had gotten it hard again. And I didn't need to be greased up. I guess I was greasy enough from having been fucked a minute before that.

It was while he was fucking my ass that second time that I really started to enjoy it. He started to finger my pussy as he fucked my hole and I was burning up from the attention.

I was the first one to cum that time, and when I did I really learned some things about sex. I learned that as my ass hole throbbed ... No, I had that backwards. I meant to say that I learned that while my pussy was throbbing, pulsating during orgasm, my ass hole was throbbing and pulsating at the same time. I mean, to me this was an interesting fact.

It's just that all my life when I had been fingering myself I guess that my ass hole had been pulling tight each time the flesh around my pussy had pulled tight, but I hadn't known that.

Anyway, with his dick stuffed all the way into my ass hole it was really something. I mean, I could feel each time my ass hole pulled around the base of his dick.

His balls were rubbing and scratching against the most sensitive flesh of my body. I mean, they were rubbing right up against the soft and smooth flesh that was on the cheeks of my ass.

When I started to cum, he stopped fucking in and out of my ass hole. I knew what was going to happen even though I hadn't had experience with any guy before that day. He started to shoot in my ass. I guess the pulling of my ass hole around the base of his cock was more than he could take and he couldn't hold back any longer. He was cumming inside me.

So, my bottom hole was being coated with the hot cum from his dick.

His fingers were coated with the gooey and sticky cum from my pussy. From that point on the two of us were always doing things together when there was no one else around.

Part of the problem was that he was always threatening to tell on me. By that time he really had something to hold over me. He would say, "I'll tell the family about every sex act you have ever performed and I'll tell it in all detail."

And I would say, "You wouldn't dare because if you tell them then you're also telling them about what you did and they would kick you out of the house for it."

And he would laugh at that and say, "So what? I'll be leaving soon anyway. I don't care. They already hate me. They're already not gonna leave me anything in their wills. I'll spit on them when I leave that front door. But, you ... you're a different story. You're the little virgin. You're the good girl who has respect. If they knew about you, you would really be in trouble."

So, what could I do? I knew he was right. I knew that if he went to them and told them the truth I wouldn't be able to tell a lie like that. I've never been able to get away with lies, especially not big ones like this would have been.

And then, I'm so terribly guilty. I mean, I always felt guilty about what happened because I enjoyed it so much. I sometimes found myself thinking about the things that Kevin did with me.

Doctor, I haven't even gotten to the part with Joe. That's the thing that really kills me. Of course I wouldn't be here if that other thing hadn't happened with my other brother, the brother I love so very much. But, that's a story in itself.

INTERVIEW TWO

My thing with Kevin went on for about three months. I wouldn't call it a relationship. From the time I was born, Kevin made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with me.

I always heard the story about the way that Joe found Kevin, who was only about two at the time, over my crib, trying to smother me with a pillow and how my oldest brother saved my life from the evil second brother. I'm sorry if I make it sound like a fairy tale, Doctor. It's just that, considering the things I've been through recently, I don't have much sincere feeling left concerning the whole situation in our family.

I mean, I'm actually asking myself how Kevin turned out to be the rotten brother and Joe turned out to be the good brother. I don't understand it. Did the family decide this at birth. I mean, something must have made them different. I don't believe that there's a gene that makes someone hate his parents! They must have been treated differently.

But, I always saw the two of them that way. And, I suppose the more important thing is that they both saw themselves in that way.

Kevin felt that he had to be rotten. He felt it was an image he had to keep up. And then there was Joe. He couldn't bend at all. He was so solid. He felt that he was responsible for keeping up his own end. He had to be the good brother. He had to be good about everything.

Anyway, as I said, the thing with Kevin kept going on for a couple of weeks. I guess it was more like a couple of months that he and I were sleeping together.

Well, that is a euphemism isn't it? We never slept together. In fact, we rarely did it at night. We would do it, or rather he would force me to do it, when we got home from school in the afternoons. It didn't happen every day. I started to purposely get involved with things that would keep me in school after the end of the day. You know, I was a cheerleader.

It was ironic that my father objected to me being a cheerleader. He felt I would be displaying my body to the boys in the school and he thought that only tramps were cheerleaders.

Then I had no good excuse for staying after school. Since Joe was working, he wasn't home in the afternoons. Sometimes my mother would be out because my grandmother was ill at that time and my mother used to go over there and look after her during the day while my unmarried aunt was at work.

Those would be the times when Kevin would force me to serve him sexually. But, the truth, Doctor, is that I found myself looking forward to those times more and more.

But sometimes there wouldn't be chances for him to do it with me. I never let him know that I ever wanted to do it with him. I never initiated anything. I always made him threaten me. The trouble was just that deep down I wanted to be threatened.

But when things would happen that would keep us from getting together, he would find strange times to get at me. Then it would be risky. Once he made me jerk him off in his bedroom in the morning after Joe had gone to work and while our mother was downstairs waiting for us to come to breakfast.

And then, a few times, he came up to my room in the middle of the night. By the middle of the night I really mean the middle. I never knew when he would do something like that and I don't know how he managed to wake up at those odd hours, but he would do it.

Everything would be still and then I would realize that he was over me, waking me up. He would have on his robe when he came to my room. I asked him once what he would say if Joe was awake when he came back to the room. What would he do if Joe saw him leaving my room?

When I asked that he took a magazine from on top of my desk and he stuffed it into the pocket of his robe. He told me that he would say he had come into my room to get a magazine.

I told him that it was too dangerous and he reminded me that it was more dangerous for me not to cooperate with him. I knew that I had to go along with him. We had already been through that.

He always fucked me up the ass. Once when I protested that he said that he would happily fuck my pussy when I was ready to lose my cherry. That particular subject excited me, but it also frightened me. I guess that I realized that I had the option of not keeping my virginity, of not saving it for my husband. I mean, this is the modern day and girls aren't as square as they used to be. But, I had been trained to care for my virginity.

He knew that was a threat that always worked on me. His other threat was that he would force me to suck on his cock. Actually that one rather excited me, but he never actually saw that one through. I suppose he was afraid that I could do damage to him with my teeth.

But, anyway, he was always managing to fuck me twice a week. Sometimes he would get to fuck me as much as four times a week. It depended on the week and on what was going on.

It was really getting very commonplace. There were no more fights. I would just get into position. Because the grease was disappearing too fast, he started to use spit. Because I was used to having his penis in my ass the spit was soon enough for me.

There were certain times during those fucking sessions, certain positions, especially when his penis would be really moving in and out so fast that I couldn't even tighten the flesh around my ass hole, that I felt as if I was losing complete control of my muscles, that I felt such an erotic stimulation I couldn't hold back my passion.

Kevin had one thing that he could always hold over my head. He knew that I liked having sex. He knew that I had enjoyed it. He knew that I couldn't hide my pleasure.

He always gloated over the fact that I enjoyed it. He knew that was the thing that made me feel guilty. Doctor, how can I explain this to you? All the shame I feel. All the terrible things that have happened. All of the things that have ripped apart my family now, I feel are my fault because I was enjoying the things that Kevin did to me.

I feel guilty. I literally feel guilty about the whole thing. I feel to blame.

Where was I? Where was I? I was telling you about the way he would come up in the middle of the night. Sometimes I would look at the clock and it would be two in the morning and sometimes it would be four in the morning. He would wake me at those odd hours.

I remember that the incident that finally ended everything was something that happened after Kevin and I had been kept apart for a little more than a week. My mother had been home in the late afternoon when we got home from school. She was visiting her mother in the hospital during the evening hours. Then, at night, Joe would be home. The one night Joe was going out to a movie, I got him to take me along so that I wouldn't be alone with Kevin.

Kevin didn't come along with us to the movie. He never came along when Joe and I did something together. That was just the way it was. We weren't comfortable with him.

Anyway, where was I? That was the last pleasant night I was ever going to have with Joe. We saw the movie and then he treated me to ice cream. I tried to pay for it myself, but he wouldn't let me. He wanted to act like a sport since he was working.

It was almost like a guy and a girl going out on a date, except there was no sex afterwards.

Well, of course, I would have to admit, Doctor, that I did have sexual thoughts about Joe after Kevin and I started to have sex. I guess I looked at Joe a little differently. Yes, having sex with one brother certainly made me look differently at my other brother.

I guess that Joe might have noticed the difference. After all, I was probably looking at his crotch and thinking about what his dick looked like through his clothes.

And then there was the night when it all exploded. It all sort of exploded in my face all at once. Oh, it was an awful night. It just happened to me.

I don't know what time it started. I guess it was around a quarter to three when Kevin woke me up. I looked up and he was already tossing off his robe and rubbing the front of his undershorts. His undershorts came down before he climbed into my bed with me.

I protested then, mostly because of the hour and because I had to be up early for school the following day. He told me to shut up because he was really horny and then he led my fingers to the shaft of his penis and told me to jerk on it for a little while.

Meanwhile he was putting me into the position he wanted. He pulled my nightgown off my body and then I was as naked as he was. There were no lights on, but the moon was beaming through my window. It was a pretty bright room for that time of night.

Then he pushed my legs up over my head and then he was rubbing his fingers along the crack of my ass. He spit on his fingers and then he pushed one of them in and out of my hole, getting it wet.

And then he spit on his fingers again and stroked up and down the length of his cock. It was already stiff while I had been stroking it. Now it glistened in the moonlight, wet.

Then there was the familiar feeling of his cock head pushing right up against the hole of my ass. He was spreading me open with the pressure and I could feel the cock head actually slipping into the hole, entering my body. Then he pushed hard and he had the head of it inside my sphincter.

He started to work his hips in one direction and then in the other. He was stretching me out. He did that whenever I was too tight for him to fuck easily at the outset.

Then he pushed the rest of his dick inside me. It started off without being very easy for him to move in and out of my hole. He was pulling the ass hole itself in and out of my body, tugging it in different directions. Little by little he worked the full length of his cock into my hole and then I could feel it massaging the flesh inside my body.

He slammed the head of his cock repeatedly against the depths of my body. He seemed to do it with a passion that suggested that he was angry and that he wanted to hurt me, but at the same time he was making me feel great all over. The tingling was causing gooseflesh to appear on my arms and legs.

It was each time he pulled out of me that I really felt the intense thrill rushing through my body. But that's a sensation that's almost impossible to describe. The pressure right against the most sensitive spot inside my body. Well, no, I didn't mean that. I guess that my pussy has got to be my most sensitive spot. I know that my clitoris is my most sensitive spot. But, those parts of my body deal exclusively with sex. My ass hole was dealing with feelings.

I knew that it wasn't a specifically sexual thing that was happening to me, but it was like a full body treatment. The pressure of the cock head as it rubbed across the surface of my insides was sending waves through all the nerves in my body.

Well, I guess I really reached a point of wild abandon when the door opened and my other brother stood in the doorway. He had pulled his pants on over his undershorts and he was just looking at the two of us, lying there, naked on the bed.

I looked over at my brother and I tried to open my mouth to speak, but then I started to cry instead. I was just weeping uncontrollably. Remember, that I had Kevin's cock in my ass at the time. It was stuffed all the way inside me and my body was heaving.

Then, without any cue at all, Joe rushed across the room and pulled Kevin by the arm. I felt the cock pulling out of my ass and that was quite painful the way it was plucked out.

There was a smashing sound and I looked up to realize that Kevin was slammed into the chest of drawers directly across from the bed. But, I really mean that he was slammed into it. Joe had smashed the boy's body up against it with all his might as if he wanted to smash every single bone. At that first instant I was sure he actually had done that because Kevin slumped down to the floor as if he were a rag doll with all the stuffing knocked out of him.

The only thing about him that wasn't limp was his cock. This had all happened so fast that there wasn't any time for Kevin to lose his erection.

But, I wasn't aware of Kevin for long. My attention was immediately drawn to my oldest brother who was towering over the foot of the bed and pulling off his pants and shorts at the same time.

"You turned out to be a whore after all. Just when I thought you were really my good little sister you turned out to be a slut, a whore. And the worst kind of whore! You filthy slut, you were doing it with your own brother." And then he was naked in front of me. I had dreamed of seeing Joe naked so many times. I already knew the smell of his crotch because of his undershorts.

And now he was really naked in front of me, but the dream had turned into a nightmare. He reached down and started to stroke his penis. It was hard in an instant. Then he jumped on top of the bed. I mean, he literally jumped on the bed. He pushed the cock right against my pussy lips. I cried out and said, "No. I'm still a virgin. He never took that hole."

But he ignored me and he pushed open the lips of my vagina. I could feel the lips wrapping tightly around the head of his cock, holding it in place, trying to strangle it.

He pushed forward and I could feel the mushroom head of the cock pressing against the interior lips of my pussy. He pushed forward and I could feel the inner lips spreading open.

And then he was inside me. I knew that the next push would smash my cherry. He pushed forward and I could feel the heat of the blood. He didn't give me an instant to relax. He had the full length of his cock stuffed all the way into my cunt. I could feel the head of it pressing against the back of my pussy. It was almost more than I could stand.

All that flesh deep inside my body, that flesh that had never been spread open before that, was spread wide apart. The fast look at my oldest brother's cock told me that it was really big and thick. I lost my cherry in a big way.

He gave me no chance to relax. I already said that about the way he first entered me and now I say it about the way he started to fuck me. He was moving his prick in and out of me in an instant. He pulled back and I felt the tugging against the tender flesh of my cunt.

My clitoris felt raw rather than enticed by the fucking session. He was moving too fast and his strokes were too broad. I thought he was ripping me to shreds.

Sometime while he was fucking me I noticed that Kevin wasn't on the floor any longer. Kevin had landed on the floor when he fell down and when I looked in that direction, thinking I would see him passed out and unconscious, I saw that he wasn't there.

If J wasn't sick enough already at that point I became really sick to my stomach when I saw that Kevin was missing. I knew, I just knew that Kevin was going to do something awful. I guess I was making myself sick just thinking over the different possibilities.

But, somehow my mind hadn't even hit on the one thing that he did.

He came running back up to the room. Now he had his pants pulled on. And our father was with him. I screamed out and Joe stopped fucking me. But, our father didn't stop at the door. He grabbed Joe by the neck and practically strangled the boy even while his penis was still inside me.

Kevin was in the background laughing. That whole night was a mess. By the time that father got around to wanting Kevin there, to wanting to hear Kevin's side of all that happened, we all found out that Kevin was gone. In fact, he had actually had a chance to pack a small bag and take it with him.

None of us knew where he had gone. Someone came by the next week and said he wanted to pick up the rest of Kevin's things, but my mother wouldn't let him take anything.

Finally Kevin called. My mother packed his things for him. He hasn't been inside the house again since that night. Joe moved out to his own apartment. My father doesn't want to see him or speak to him or hear his name, but my mother has spoken to him a number of times and she's beginning to take his side, which is good for him but bad for me.

My mother practically crosses herself every time she sees me in the house. I'm still there. I'm the one child who is still under the legal age and they're supposed to take care of me and look after me.

But, I'm a prisoner in the house. My father will not let me out of my room. He says that the day I turn eighteen he will kick me out the door and I can make my living walking the streets if I want. My mother just won't even speak to me.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I think about the future and I can only see myself walking the streets. My father is so ashamed of me and my family will kick me out so what decent boy will have anything to do with me now? Anyway, I'm not allowed to have any social life. It's been made clear. I can't even use the phone to get calls or receive them, and I am ordered to report home directly from school. Sometimes my father has even surprised me and has picked me up at the schoolyard. But he's done that so he could see who I was with and who I was talking to. Now I'm afraid of talking to any boy for fear that my father will be spying on me. This is no way for me to live.

And, I feel so awful about my brothers. Look at what's happened to my family all because of me! I mean it! If I didn't have sexual fantasies about my brothers none of this would have happened. If I hadn't enjoyed sex with Kevin, none of this would have happened.

Is it any wonder that I've thought about ending my life, Doctor?

I don't know what to do anymore. My father won't listen to my story of what happened.

CONCLUSION

Taking responsibility is an adult action.

Taking "blame" in the way that Grace has taken-it here is a terribly destructive and immature action.

She feels guilty because she desired her brothers and enjoyed sex. These were natural sexual impulses which she could not control. The fact that they were acted on, from the information presented here, does not reflect on her.

She was not responsible for the initial forced seduction and she was not responsible for her oldest brother's violent reaction to the discovery of the sexual liaison, nor for her father's subsequent reaction. The thing which she bears the least responsibility for of all is the fact that her father now refuses to discuss the incident.

This man must face his adult responsibility as a father. However personally upsetting or distasteful he may have found the discovery of the complicated and clandestine sexual activities of his children, he is responsible for them in all facets of life.

If he is incapable of reasoning intelligently with the facts of this incident, then it is immediately necessary that all available members of the family should sit down with a counselor who can deal in a dispassionate manner with their problems.

CASE HISTORY THREE

SUBJECT: Lynn M. AGE: Sixteen

INTERVIEW ONE

Lynn was rather tall for her age. She was, perhaps, a little too slender so that her figure verged on being skinny. This was clearly something she did on purpose.

Her honey-blonde hair was fixed in a fashionable manner that seemed designed to attract attention. One side of it was swept up and the other side had a pony tail that framed her face.

She was wearing shiny slacks that were hugging her long legs and a sweater with a rather daring neck for a girl her age. Her scarf had a designer's name all over it and she was wearing sandals with spiked heels which looked terribly uncomfortable.

Everything about the girl, in other words, including her green eyeshadow, was straight from the pages of the latest fashion magazines. There was nothing about her which said that she was a sixteen-year-old girl. Even her affected accent seemed to mimic that of an older woman.

It took her quite a while before she would reveal any side of her true self.

Well, Doctor, we'll get along fine as long as you don't treat me like a kid. I know that you know my age and I just want you to know that I don't fit in with people of my age.

I can make conversation with older people. My parents always have a lot of the best sort of people around and I move in their circles when they have parties. I'm always at ease.

But, they won't give me any freedom. It's so depressing. They consider me an adult one minute, but the very next minute they're treating me like a helpless infant.

Imagine the way it is for me. I go to their parties, the ones that they give, and a guest will tell me that I should come along when my parents go to a party at their place. Let's say that there's a guest at the party and we're having a wonderful conversation and the guest tells me that he has a wonderful place out on Fire Island and then he tells me that I should come along for the weekend when my parents go out there.

But, my parents never let me go. They tell me that I'm too young to mingle with their friends. I mingle with their friends when those people visit us, but I never get to see them otherwise.

We do often have company. There are people who come to town from out of town and then there's our country place. Mother has a lot of friends who are in the arts and who don't have the sort of money that father's friends do. She likes to have them to the country place.

So, my mother is really awfully strict with me. After all, I'm not a child. It's not as though I'm a virgin. I've seen things and I know things.

I remember one night at our country place. Mother and father had these houseguests. They were certainly friends of mother's. It was this man who was a musician and his girlfriend who really didn't do much of anything. This was quite a number of years ago. I suppose that I was either eleven or twelve at the time.

In the middle of the night I heard these sounds out in the back of the house and I woke up. I guess there must have been one loud sound right before I woke up, one sound that woke me up, that happened right before I opened my eyes. Anyway, I woke up wide awake and wanted to look out the window. I got to the window of my room just in time to see that all of them were running around the side of the house. My room looked out toward the front of the house.

I went into the hallway and then toward the back of the house. I just had an instinct that they were going toward the swimming pool. I really got a treat that night.

In the dim moonlight I seemed to see them undressing. Then father must have turned on the lights inside the pool. There are lights under the water. Since the pool is slightly downhill from the house, the only place in the house that looks out at the pool was father's second floor office.

Without having any of the lights on, that's where I went.

That night, watching out the window, and with the underwater lights illuminating the bodies, I could see all four of them naked. I saw my father and mother and then the two houseguests who were probably in their middle twenties at the time.

Then I watched as my father started to chase the girl around the pool. There was laughter and I could tell that the girl wanted to be caught by my father.

I know that there are plenty of kids who see their parents making it together, but I wonder how many kids get to watch an outdoor swapping session of their parents with another couple. I guess I must have had some bit of innocence left in me because I was really shocked, I can remember being shocked at seeing my father starting to fuck the girl. I was really, really shocked when I saw my mother starting to neck with the naked musician.

Then he climbed on top of her and started to hump away. It was really a sight for me.

So, actually, Doctor, I guess that's probably the reason why my folks don't want to let me come along when they go away for weekends visiting their friends.

I have to give the two of them credit for still being married to each other. They each have their own career to contend with. Father is a broker and mother is a designer. They're both incredibly successful. I haven't been deprived of anything, as you can see.

But, I think there's another reason why they haven't wanted me along with their friends. I have this younger brother, you see. He's really been an annoying pest for most of his life. He and I are like night and day. It's impossible to believe that he's really my brother.

He's a little less than two years younger than I am. That makes him fourteen now.

And he's always been annoying to me. I just never liked having him around.

My mother once explained to me why she said I couldn't go along to her parties with friends and her weekends. She said that it would be rougher for my younger brother. She told me, "When he's old enough to go to the parties, then you can go."

Well, as I said, most of the parties they give, especially the ones they give at the country place, they have me attend. They also have my brother attend. I have a great time and I have things to discuss with people at the party. But, my brother looks uncomfortable and feels uncomfortable in his suit and he just stands at the side without saying a word.

Of course he doesn't fit-in with those people! I don't even know how he ended up in our family. He doesn't seem to have any social graces at all. He's interested in sports and the crazy thing is that he isn't even interested in sports that he can play with anyone.

I mean, it would be more normal of him if he wanted to get involved with a team of something. At least there are some very charming people in mother's circle of friends who have been involved with team sports. But my brother was involved with track and field.

He would go out running for miles, all alone. Now he's started to get involved with gymnastics, which is its own sort of sport. I have to say something about gymnastics, though. It really makes for a terrific body. I started to notice about a year ago that in spite of how annoying I found my brother, he was turning into a really sexy male.

I mean, he's certainly a boy. He's not a man and his body is nowhere near a man's body. But, for a boy's body he really had something going for him, especially his arms.

In gymnastics they make the guys do all sorts of moves where they have to hold themselves in place with their arms. Those are the things that are most impressive. My brother has really built up his shoulders and his arms in the last year.

Well, I don't suppose there's anything terribly wrong with noticing my brother and thinking to myself that he would be a lot of fun in bed. I've thought that about a lot stranger guys than him. He really is quite attractive.

He has hair the color of mine which he always has cut very short and he has a very square jaw. He's sort of stocky and he's actually shorter than I am. I don't think that's because he's younger. Unless he gets a sudden bit of growth in the next year or say I would say that he's just naturally short. They say there are a lot of short men in gymnastics.

It's just that he hasn't developed his social aplomb or anything during all these years. It's as if he's been in a vacuum while all of our parents' exciting friends were around.

This all started, I mean the thing with my brother all started, because I was really angry at my parents for not taking me along with them when they went away on a trip.

You see, we had gone to the country place for the summer. The house is in Bucks County, and we had always spent at least part of every summer there, usually with guests.

But, this summer we had no guests. It was oppressively dull. I mean, there was no one there for me. When I would tell that to my mother she would tell me that my brother and I were so close in age that we should do things together. I told her I would rather die.

And so I was acting like a bit of a cunt through the summer.

What really made me throw a fit was when mother announced that she and father were going off to Key West for a week. I said that they absolutely had to take me along or I would go mad and she said that it was business. That was a lot of bullshit.

But, she said it was business and she promised that when they were back from that week in Key West they would take the whole family somewhere. What that meant to me was that I would have to be with my brother, that I would be expected to do things with my brother Nicholas never seemed to react to me. He was always just thinking about his sports.

And so, my folks left for Key West. But, before I tell you about what happened after they were gone, I have to tell you about my sexual history.

I told you that I wasn't a virgin. I had lost my virginity some years before that. It wasn't any silly schoolgirl thing like the things that happen to most girls. It wasn't any situation where I was taken advantage of. I think only people who are saps let themselves be taken advantage of anyway. It was a situation that I planned out myself.

Actually, it was the summer when I was fourteen that I decided I wanted to lose my cherry. But, I didn't want to play games about it. I didn't want to go out with a boy and then let him work up to it. It just seemed like such a stupid thing to do when I knew what I wanted.

So, I started to look around then. If my kid brother had been a little older and a little more developed at that time I might have seen him as a good potential partner.

Does that surprise you? I was just telling you how much I disliked him and how I considered it a chore to associate with him and now I'm telling you that I would have thought of him as a potential sex partner. Well, that makes sense to me. There are a lot of people I like who I wouldn't want to fuck and there are a lot of people I would want to fuck that I don't like.

For instance, I see some sports star on television and I know that he hasn't got a brain in his head and that I certainly wouldn't want him at my home for a party. But I certainly would want to have him fucking me. Can't you understand that?

I may just be a child, but it seems to me that there are some awfully immature attitudes among adults.

I know that I'm opinionated. I also have strong opinions about sex. I feel I have a right to them since I have had quite a bit of sexual experience during these two years.

Oh, yes, I was telling you about the time I lost my cherry. Anyway, I was fourteen that summer and I had been thinking about it through the spring. If I could have found a worthwhile boy at school I would have given him my cherry during the spring.

But, all the boys at school that year seemed like such drips. The school was set up in such a way that I just never got to meet any older boys and I wasn't going to let some fourteen-year-old drip who didn't know what he was doing, take my cherry.

So, I went away to the country house and really didn't know what I would end up doing. But, when we got there I was hot for sex. I was looking at every male who came by.

It happened that my father was having a new garage built that year while we were up there. There were workmen there every week day. They would pour the cement and then build the frame and then do the next step and the next step. They were also going to paint the whole outside of the house at the end of the season when the garage was finished.

Anyway, I really took a good look at the workmen. There was one who was named Oliver. He was really good looking. He had powerful shoulders and a deep tan and his hair was bleached from the sun and shaggy. He was only about nineteen and he was working on the project because his father was there also.

I started to find reasons to talk to Oliver. He told me that he was engaged to marry a girl from the town in September. He never led me along. But, he could tell I was interested. He used to blush when I would come around and stare at his crotch.

Then there was finally a day when I had a chance to be alone with Oliver. He was the only one at the garage. All the others had left. I went directly into the still incomplete structure and told him that my father wanted him to look at something behind the pool.

He said that it wasn't his job and that he probably wouldn't know anything about it. And I was very snotty when I said that it wouldn't kill him to look and that my father always made everything financially worthwhile for anyone who worked for him.

And so I had Oliver following me down the steps behind the pool. As I said, the pool was built down the hillside, so that one side of it was actually out of the ground. Under the pool, where the equipment, the generator and all, was located, there were also two dressing rooms, one for men and one for women, and there were showers in each.

I led Oliver into the women's dressing room and said that there was a sudden crack in the wall of the shower. He went into the shower and looked closely at the wall. Then he complained that he couldn't see any crack on the wall, so I came over to him.

When I was standing next to him, I grabbed his crotch. He tried to pull away, but I was rubbing the front of his pants. He pushed my hands away and I asked him what was wrong with him.

"I don't wanna mess with you," he said. "I don't wanna get in trouble."

I assured him that the only way he could get in trouble was if I complained and I told him that if he didn't do what I told him to do I would surely complain.

He didn't understand what I meant, so I started to undress. At that point I was blocking his exit from the shower room. He tried to push past me and I laughed, "That's just perfect. Now I could testify that you pushed me." He was really going frantic.

But that time when I rubbed my fingers against his crotch he didn't protest. He asked me what I wanted and I told him that I was doing him a favor. I said that I was going to give him something really special. And then I told him that I was still a virgin.

"If you're still a virgin, then why are you doing this? I don't understand why you're doing this to me."

"Because I don't want to be a virgin," I said. "And because you look good to me." Then, before he could say anything else, I commanded, "Take off your clothes."

He peeled out of his clothes. I would be a liar if I didn't say that I was rather disappointed in the size of his penis, which was not very impressive. But, he performed adequately.

I got down on the couch that was in the dressing room and he got on top of me. Then he pushed it into me. I was only vaguely aware of the ripping feeling because I guess there was a lot of moisture inside me at that time. I was really worked up a lot about the fucking.

And yet, he wasn't able to bring me to my orgasm even though I was so hot to begin with.

I had cum before that. I can't understand the sort of women who say they've never had an orgasm and they're twenty-five or forty-five. I was frigging myself young and I was cumming young. That was why I decided I needed to lose my cherry. I was bored of frigging myself without knowing anything about the real thing.

Of course I didn't have any of the old-fashioned ethic to hold me back. I knew that among the friends of my mother and father virginity was not a valued thing. I had always assumed that I would lose my virginity before I got married. I guess that my mother would have considered fourteen a little too young if she had known about it at the time.

But, it wasn't that long a time before my mother found out about my lack of virginity.

That winter at school some old bitch of a teacher found me in the broom closet with this boy who was in the middle of fucking me. They reported that to my mother and all hell broke loose.

"I'm a free spirit," I informed her. After I said that there was a big fight between my mother and my father and it concerned the nature of the friends that they had been exposing me to.

I try not to let my folks upset me. They pretend to be these real liberals who are really cool and together and they're really a couple of fascists. You know?

Anyway, I was starting to tell you about what happened with my brother when my folks went away.

Oh, okay, I guess I'll have to continue my story the next time I come to see you.

INTERVIEW TWO

Anyway, I had told you all the background so you have a pretty good idea where I was coming from.

My folks went away for that week in Key West and they left me with my brother. We had these two people who came to the house to look after us. Actually they had a little cottage down the end of the road from our house and they looked after the house in the winter.

It was this couple. Mr. Percy is sort of the groundskeeper for the place and his wife is sort of the housekeeper. There was once a young gardener that we had there the previous summer, but he was kicked out when mother found out I was fucking him. That's another story.

So, we were left under the care of Mr. and Mrs. Percy. The one thing was that the two of them slept in their own house. But they had the key to our house and when I would wake up in the morning, Mrs. Percy would already have breakfast ready in the kitchen.

Mr. Percy had instructions that he should drive me or my brother anywhere we wanted to go as long as it was something that my mother would approve of. We weren't allowed to leave the house after dark. I mean, really, Doctor, judging from everything else I've told you about myself and my family can you believe that at the age of sixteen they wouldn't even let me leave the house after dark?

Actually, it wasn't as if I had a big choice of places to go after dark.

The town was about three miles down the road and that was filled with kids who lived in the town. There was just one restaurant that really attracted the summer people and there was no one my age there. If I went down the strip I would just meet these boring Pennsylvania kids and I didn't want to have anything to do with them. There was a college about twenty miles away and, from past experience, I knew that there were guys there over the summer.

But, that did me no good when Mr. Percy wouldn't drive me anywhere in that direction.

And so I was stuck in the house. What was I expected to do every night? Watch television? I did that. But, there was something missing. Well, I should clarify this. No matter how pissed I've sounded about my mother at times she and I do talk together quite a bit.

We talk about professional things. We talk about designs and magazines and the things that interest her because of her business. Those things also interest me. I probably have a better knowledge of the European fashion world than most adult women who think they're acquainted with it.

So, the one thing that relieved my boredom up until that point in the summer had been my mother. I'll admit that I was pissed over the fact that she left like that.

There I was, a prisoner in the house, with only my brother there for company.

And then, with him parading around all day in nothing but his gym shorts, which he wore for swimming, I started to think about him as a sex partner. That was, as I said, the time when he was so busy with his exercises and his efforts to become a really good gymnast.

He didn't care about the fact that he wasn't taken to Key West and he didn't care about the fact that he couldn't go anywhere interesting and that he didn't have anyone to be with. All he cared about were his damn exercises. He had to run a certain distance every morning and then he had to train with his weights down in the cellar of the house and then he had to go out to the pool and get his swimming in. That was all he ever did.

He was displaying that body of his as he got it more and more muscular.

And I knew that I wanted him. I knew that I was going to do something to get him. He had always been rather intimidated by me and I knew that I would take advantage of that fact.

It was at night and I knew that he was in bed. He wore pajamas. Can you believe that.

I knocked on his door and then entered. I was counting on the fact that he had always acted very sexually naive. You wouldn't believe the sort of things he didn't understand. Anyway, he was such a child in so many ways and he didn't have the sort of friends who would have helped to teach him a damn thing. He was a real loner at school.

So, I went into his room and I acted very concerned about something. I should also say that I was aware of my own sexuality at the time. I was wearing a thin pink negligee that matched my flesh and I had no panties on underneath. That was the way I sat on the edge of his bed.

"I need to talk to you about something, Nicholas, and it concerns you."

"What's the matter?" he asked me, pulling the blanket up against him. "Is something wrong?"

"It's just this problem that you have and I don't know if I should talk to mother and father about it. I thought that I should talk to you first, Nicholas." I gazed into his eyes and he started to act guilty.

I knew then that I would be able to get control of him. "Nicholas, I know that you play with yourself. I know that you like to jerk on your penis. I know all about it."

Of course I knew! I knew that every young boy did it. I had already fucked a dozen guys and there were plenty of things I knew. But, Nicholas turned bright red and he acted as if I had accused him of the most heinous thing in the world.

"Do you have to tell mom and dad?" he asked, hardly able to speak.

"Well...." I shrugged my shoulders. "Would you like me to do that for you ... as a favor? I mean, to not tell them. Would you consider that a favor?"

He nodded his head and held the covers tight against his body. "In that case, would you do me a favor also, Nicholas?" I asked him. "I'd like something that I would enjoy."

"What? Whatever you want, Lynn," he insisted earnestly.

"I hope you mean that, Nicholas. I'd like you to help take care of a need that I have." Suddenly, I acted as if 'I was having a brand new thought. "Nicholas, did you ever do it with a girl? Have you ever fucked a girl?" When he shook his head, I clucked my tongue and said, "Well then, no wonder you do it. Poor Nicholas. You should do it with a girl."

"C-could you help me to do it with a girl? I mean, to find a...." He blushed before he finished the sentence.

I looked up and down at him and said, "Nicholas, I'm willing to go out on a limb for you. In spite of the fact that first you asked me to do you a favor and now you're asking me to help you, I want to go out on a limb for you because I ... feel sorry for you."

"You would?" He seemed so grateful. He was really so very dumb.

"I'm willing to do it with you, Nicholas. But, you have to be tied up."

"Tied up?" he asked, shocked by the very sound of the words.

I nodded and said, "After all, I'm a girl and you've got these powerful arms and muscles and you could overpower me. Well, I'm willing to let you see me ... naked...."

"You are? You would let me see you naked?" he asked, his voice cracking.

"After all, Nicholas, I don't want a drip for a kid brother. I want you to be able to know what you're doing when you're with a girl, otherwise you'll be an embarrassment to me. But, I ask you to let me tie you up because I don't want to take a chance that you'll get carried away."

"Carried away? Oh, no. I promise that I wouldn't get carried away."

"It's all well and good that you promise like that, but I can't take your word for it."

Finally he nodded his head and I told him that I was going to get the rope. I rushed back into the room and commanded him, "Get out of bed and strip naked, Nicholas."

He pushed the covers back and asked me, "Strip ... naked?"

"Come on. How do you think you're going to do it through your pajamas?"

He peeled off the top of his pajamas and he let them fall to the floor, but he remained sitting on the edge of the bed with his bottoms still on. I could tell that he had an erection inside them and that he was sitting there because he was trying to hide the outline of it.

I pulled his hands behind his back and tied them together with one of the pieces of rope that I had brought. I tied them rather tight and he complained.

But, before he had a chance to say anything else I had pulled his pajama bottoms down his legs and he was stripped completely naked. Then I pushed him off the bed and onto the floor. "Hey," he cried out. But he didn't have a chance to protest. I was tying his legs together and he didn't even have a chance to struggle with me.

Then I stood over him and said, "I'll make it worth your while, little brother."

I peeled off my pink nightgown and stood naked over his body. I ran my fingers all over my flesh and tweaked at my nipples, enticing him with that movement.

His cock was lying fully erect across his belly. I knelt down next to him and put the tips of my fingers onto his penis. He shot. I couldn't believe that he shot so quickly.

And, he wasn't even through shooting when he was begging me to untie him.

"Untie you? I haven't even started to get my satisfaction."

He complained that he didn't like being tied up and I said that I had something I could do to stop his complaining. That was really a rather cute moment, Doctor.

He said to me, "You have something you can do to stop my complaining?"

I positioned myself right over his face and squatted down and I said, "Yes. I'll sit on your face."

Nicholas didn't even know what I was referring to. He didn't even know what it meant to have someone sit on his face and he didn't know what it was to have oral sex.

But, he learned fast enough. He couldn't protest orally because my cunt lips were right up against his lips and he was struggling not to open his mouth. But, I grabbed him by the hair and shouted, "I want to feel your tongue licking my pussy lips. Come on."

He tried to shake his head and I could feel the tension in his bound body.

When he still refused to do it for me, I reached down for his balls and started to play with them. Then I grabbed the balls in my fingers and pulled on them.

"I'm going to hurt you unless you lick out my pussy. Do you understand me, Nicholas?"

He must have understood me because I felt his tongue sliding up along one side of my cunt lips and then down along the other side. I reached down and spread myself open and then I pressed myself down right against his tongue, ordering him to put it inside.

The outer lips of my pussy clasped tight around his tongue. He seemed to be struggling to pull his tongue out, but as he did that he was getting me turned on. He was moving his tongue around and around against the inside of my body. It was really something.

I felt the pressure of the tip of his tongue right up against the interior lips of my cunt and then I could feel it rubbing against my clitoris. I was on fire.

I started to bounce up and down against his face. Since I was sitting facing his bound body I reached down and started to play with his prick. It was getting hard again.

When I felt that it was hard enough I plucked myself up off his face and I squatted over his prick instead. He tensed up as I pressed the head of his cock into the lips of my pussy. It was really exciting knowing that my brother was a virgin as he entered me.

I slid all the way down on his cock and I could feel the stiff rod inside me. The flared head of it rubbed up and down against the tender flesh of my pussy, spreading me wide open.

It was very thrilling for me. I was in complete control. I had often had fantasies about fucking with a guy in that position, but I had never had a chance to do it before.

Each time I slammed down on the cock and the big head of it pushed against the depths of my body I was slamming my ass cheeks down against his balls. Then when I pulled up again I would pull for one tantalizing moment against the flared head of his cock, almost threatening to lose the hold on it that my pussy lips had. But, I never did lose that hold.

I was sliding along the length of the cock and I was really enjoying the massaging I was getting.

My brother was squirming. He had to be enjoying it because his cock remained hard. I was the first one to cum during that session. I had been so turned on by the sucking he had been giving my cunt that I couldn't hold back. The walls of my pussy clasped around his prick.

Then I slid off him. He still had an erection. I untied his hands and told him that he could jerk off while I watched. He did it. He did just what I told him he could do.

It was wonderful. I knew that it was the beginning of a couple of days of real fun for me. My brother was willing to do anything I told him to do at night.

He always complained. He always tried to whine and whimper, but he always went along with what I would say. And then, as with the first incident, when I would untie him and tell him to do something else, tell him to jerk off in front of me for instance, he would just do it without any complaints. Doctor, what I'm trying to say is this; why did he jerk off when I told him to? He wanted to do it. I wasn't really forcing him.

Sure, I had tricked him into going along with sex the first night. But, he was such a dope about so many things that it was like taking advantage of a real sucker.

But, of course, as soon as my parents were back, and I mean the minute they walked into the house, my brother started to cry and he went into my father's den with him and the two of them talked for a long time. Then I was asked in and I was asked for my version of the story.

I don't know what my brother told them but I told them the. truth. Apparently the truth upset them. It was enough for them to know that I had initiated sex with my brother and that I had wanted it to happen. I said, "So what? Big deal? How did you expect me to amuse myself for the week you were gone?"

They really threw a fit when I said that to them. They decided to send me away to this awful school for the rest of the summer. And then they chose to send me away to a school in the fall. They were keeping my brother there with them. I hate them for that.

Don't they know that my brother is the one who doesn't give a damn? He's the one who wouldn't care if he wasn't around them and who wouldn't care if he didn't have contact with them and with their friends. I know what the next thing is going to be. They'll have me away at school and they'll take Nicholas along with them to some great weekend.

When that happens I will never forgive them. Don't tell me that it's petty of me. They couldn't see their way clear to taking me along with them when they went away for weekends but now I just know that they're going to take Nicholas along.

They wanted me out of there all that time. I know that. I don't know why they became parents in the first place if they didn't want to have kids. That's the way they've always-acted toward me. They acted like they didn't want me to be a kid, like they couldn't have me in certain places, in certain parts of their lives because I was only a kid.

Well, okay, I'm only sixteen, but don't I look older? Isn't my vocabulary mature for my age? Don't I dress well? I think there are positive answers to all those questions. Yes, I think I could fit in as an adult with my parents' group. But they won't give me a chance.

And now just because they wanted me to be bored out of my mind and stuck with my kid brother, they've just shoved me off into some private school that I hate and they don't even want to have anything to do with me. I hate them. I don't want to have anything to do with them.

CONCLUSION

Lynn is desperate for a chance to be a child. But her parents never gave her that chance. All she ever heard was all the things she couldn't do, all the glamorous things in which she couldn't participate because she was still a child. And so, she dressed and acted older, depriving herself of her own childhood, something that everyone needs.

She and her brother each built up different defenses against their parents. Her brother used sports. They each built up resentments and antagonisms toward one another, feeling that they were competing for what little attention their parents could offer.

Her sexual seduction of her brother was a cry for her parents' attention, and her parents reacted by giving her the exact opposite of that.

There is still a chance, a slight chance, of the girl's remaining teenage years being salvaged. But, it's her parents who will need the counseling, her parents who will need to contribute more time to the girl and to their own training in how to be attentive parents.

The girl's sexual adventures, her mischievous ways, her "mature" vocabulary, clothes, and interests, are all attempts on her part to make up for the affection she lacks at home.

CASE HISTORY FOUR

SUBJECT: Quinn R. AGE: Fifteen

INTERVIEW ONE

Quinn was wearing a crisp and clean religious school uniform which consisted of a dark blue blazer, a light grey pleated skirt, a white blouse, dark blue kneesocks, and dark blue shoes..

She was a very modest and quiet girl with red hair and freckles. Although she was a little short for her age, she was a healthy looking girl, with a fully rounded body. It seemed that she had a bit of baby fat which was just on the verge of being turned into womanly curves.

The girl was nervous and timid at first, swinging her legs in the chair and looking from side to side without meeting my gaze. But, as she continued her story and learned to trust me we were able to open a line of communications.

I don't mean to be any bother, Doctor. At school they thought I should see you but I don't want to have any trouble at home. You know, it's all well and good for a stranger at school to think he knows something about what I should do, but I'm the one who has to live my life.

I have to live with my father. I mean, I have to live with my family.

My father is always accusing me of things. He always wants to punish me for things that I didn't really do. But, he says that he'd rather make a mistake in that direction than to let me get away with something. That sums up his feelings, Doctor.

Well, some things have happened with my father. I don't know if I should tell you though. If my father knew that I spoke about this he would kill me. As it is when he hears that the people in school sent me to see you he'll be asking me and accusing me of things. I just know I'm going to get punished by my father when I get home. I just know it.

I can't lie very well, Doctor. I don't know what I'd be able to say when I get home to my father.

Well, okay, I'll start at the beginning. But, I don't know how much of this story I'll be able to tell you.

From the time I was very tiny I know that I was always punished by my father. He used to use a hairbrush on my behind and then he started to use a paddle. Usually he would just use his palm. That's when he really gets worked up. He uses his palm when he's really angry with me and it's as if he can't pause to pick up the paddle in his hand. Do you see what I'm saying?

But when he does it with the paddle or the brush it's over faster. He doesn't spank me for such a long time. But, there are other things along with the spanking.

I remember that when I was about twelve and I was first learning about male bodies, I became aware of the pressure right under the left pocket of my father's pants.

Well, Doctor, what I mean is that I would be lying across his lap. He would always tell me to assume the position.

Wait, I suppose I really ought to set the scene for you. My father would have me report to him in his bedroom after dinner, while mother was doing the dishes. It was the same every night. I was usually still dressed in my school uniform because we ate at about five-thirty, right when he got home from work, and I had only gotten home from school at about four-thirty or even later because I had to take the bus home from school.

So, there I would be in my school uniform, standing at attention in front of him. That was part of it. I always had to stand at attention there in front of him.

Then he would make me tell him all about my day at school. I would go through the whole thing and tell him what I did in class and tell him what I did after school on the bus. He wanted all the details. And he kept track of things also. If I told him one day that the teacher announced a test for the next day he wanted to know about the test the following day when he would be asking me his questions. And then, starting the day after that he wanted to know what grade I got on the test. Mom once said to me that dad was living through me because he had never had much chance at school and he was proud of what I was doing.

But, if I got lower than the kind of score he thought I should get, he would spank me. If I did anything in the course of the day that he didn't like, he would spank me. He asked me once what I had done during my lunch period and I told him that I had watched some boys in the schoolyard playing a game of basketball. We shared one schoolyard with the boys' high school. My father spanked me for that. He said that I was looking at boys and they would think I was a slut.

I really had to be careful about telling my father things. I would never lie to him, but he was always suspicious. I mean, if I just mentioned that there had been a boy over at a friend's place when I visited for the afternoon, my father would suspect that we were holding an orgy.

He objected to almost everything I owned except for my school uniform. Actually that was the real reason why I never changed out of the uniform after school. I knew that my father would find fault with any other clothes I wore. He always said that I looked like a slut.

When I would tell him that all the other girls in school liked the same sort of clothes and that the skirt was longer than the skirts that mom-"wore when she was my age, he would just lose his temper even more and he would tell me "All girls today are sluts. There's no more morality. I can tell you that your mother was a virgin when I married her and I can tell you that you're gonna leave this house a virgin."

He scared me when he would yell like that. He would yell that way and mom would be able to hear him all the way in the kitchen. It was an old apartment and the walls were pretty thick so if she heard him in the kitchen, then he was really making noise.

She would come running into the room and tell him to keep his voice down or the neighbors would hear. Sometimes she would come to my defense and she would tell him that I was a good girl but that if he kept on shouting that I was a slut the neighbors would hear and my reputation would be ruined.

He would tell her that he was having a talk with his daughter. He would get really snotty at times like that with mom. He would tell her that he had his relationship with his daughter and that he was in charge of the discipline in the household and she was to stay out.

She rarely interrupted us. There was something funny though. It always seemed that father had actually planned in advance whether he was going to spank me that night or not. I could sense his mood. When he hurried through the session and was concerned about my grades and my work in class, then I knew I wasn't going to be spanked.

But, when he would start talking slowly, start asking lots of questions that seemed silly, but were just because he was suspicious of everything I said, I knew that I would get spanked. I knew that no matter what I said, he would find some reason to spank me.

And he always would. If I didn't say anything to displease him then he would find something to dislike about my tone of voice or the expression on my face.

The spanking? The spanking was always about the same. Oh, yes, I was telling you that once I knew what a penis was and what it was supposed to be like when it got hard, I knew that my father's erect penis was pressing against me through the fabric of his pants when I got on his lap.

He didn't say anything about it. He didn't call attention to it in any way. So, I never dared to say anything about it. Until ... Well, that's what happened later on. I don't know if I can tell you about this, Doctor. My father told me not to ever tell anyone about it.

Well, the spanking always went the same way. At least it did at the beginning.

My father would tell me to get into the position for my spanking.-I Would take off my skirt. My panties were always white and spotless. I knew that there was always a good chance of my father seeing me in my panties and I didn't dare wear anything but white and spotless.

Did it ever bother me to have my father see me in my panties? Well, I'll tell you about that in a minute.

I would get ready for the spanking by taking off my skirt so that he didn't get it wrinkled. That was always the way he explained it. He said I had to take it off so that I wouldn't get it wrinkled. I would leave my blouse on and of course my socks and shoes. You can see the way. I'm dressed now so you can just picture what it was like then.

And then I would get over his left knee when he spread his legs. Sometimes he would shift me a little in one direction or another. He seemed to pretend that he was positioning me just right for the spanking, but I always sensed that he was pressing me against his body.

Then he would clasp his legs together and he would hold me between his right leg and his left leg. He would put his left hand down on my back, holding me in place. He was always sitting on the edge of his bed at that time and I would usually bury my face against the sheets.

The funny thing about that was that I was always aware of the smell of my father on the sheets.

Anyway, then he would start to spank me. He would slap his hand down repeatedly against my thinly clad ass cheeks. I could soon feel the fabric of my panties sticking to my skin.

When I would move a little I could feel him moving his body a little against mine. By the time I turned thirteen I already understood that there was something sexual in those spankings as far as my father was concerned. I knew that for sure because I was thinking those thoughts also.

Doctor, I was purposely rubbing myself against my father's left thigh, knowing that I was getting excited thinking about his manly organ. I feel so sinful for that.

And because of the way he moved in response, I know he thought those things also.

The more sexual it became, the harder he slapped my ass cheeks.

Because of the guilt that was building up in me I was feeling sexier all the time. It reached the point where simply hearing my father telling me to get into the position and to get ready for a spanking was enough to get my pussy all wet and drippy and hot.

I could feel the lips of my pussy quivering and tingling because of the excitement.

Finally, a little more than a year ago, I decided that I couldn't go through with it anymore. I couldn't let my father spank me again. I couldn't undress in front of him.

For three days I was sick to my stomach. I knew that the next time he tried to spank me there would be a gigantic explosion. I wondered if I would have the nerve to go through with it. After all, it would have been easy for me to just give in and get another spanking. I knew it was going to be a terrible scene when I confronted my father like that.

When he came home from work the third day I could tell that he was on edge. I knew all the signs and knew that he was going to be spanking me that night.

He called me into his bedroom and while my mother did the dishes, he started to ask me about my day. "What are you so nervous about?" he asked me sharply. , "Nothing." It was a stupid answer and helped contribute to the problem.

"Don't tell me nothing. Something is bothering you. What did you do wrong?"

"I didn't do anything wrong, Daddy. Why do you always assume I did."

"That's it, young lady. Get ready for a spanking. You will learn not to talk to me in that tone."

I stood my ground and didn't move, trying to get the nerve to say something to him. But, he beat me to it by snapping, "Well! I told you to get ready for a spanking."

"Daddy, can I talk to you?" I asked, trying to act bold.

"When I tell you to get ready for a spanking, I expect you to do it."

"Daddy, please," I said, talking as fast as I could to get all the words in. "I'm getting too old for this. I'm too old to take my skirt off in front of you and let you see me in my panties."

"I am your father!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs as he jumped toward me. "And you will not tell me what I can and cannot do as your father. You might be so smart and you might be a bright kid, but I'm the one who will tell you what to do. And where do you get off acting like you're a moral one when I know that you act like a slut with all the boys."

My mother came running into the room and shouted, "Stan, all the neighbors!"

He screamed, "To hell with all the neighbors. Get the hell out of this room."

You have to understand how frightening he seemed. My mother just went running right out of the room when my father said that and I knew she wasn't coming back.

My father tossed me to the floor and he ... oh, no, Doctor, this was the part I wasn't going to tell you. Well, it wasn't just that one time with him. That time was almost a year ago.

I don't .know if I should tell you, Doctor. Father told me that if I tell I'll go to hell.

He says that I'll be cursed for speaking against my father. But, it's so difficult. Doctor, it's so hard for me. I can't hold it inside. I feel so sick about it. I feel so sick.

INTERVIEW TWO

Since Quinn became hysterical I brought her to another office where she could rest until I could see her later in the afternoon. I felt it was imperative that I hear the rest of her story before sending her back to her parents' home.

Thank you, Doctor, you've been so kind. I don't want to be any trouble.

I'm sorry I started crying before. Nothing happened with my father. I don't know why you don't think I'm telling the truth when I say that nothing happened.

Oh, yes, he used to spank me ... He used to ... Oh, Doctor, I can't lie I have to tell you. I'm going to start crying again. Oh, I'm sorry. Oh, it's okay. I'll be okay.

Thank you, Doctor. Where was I with the story. I told you about the spankings and then I told you about the one night when my father went crazy. That was the night I told him that I was too old and I refused to take down my skirt in front of him.

He landed on top of me and then he pulled at my skirt. "You'll rip it," I shouted.

"If I rip the skirt you'll work to pay for a new one. That'll teach you to show disrespect for your father."

My skirt was partly on and partly off. The only thing he ripped was the snap at the top of the zipper on the side which he pulled right out of the material.

Then he grabbed at my panties and he shouted, "I'll show you that I'm your father and I can see anything I want. You're my daughter. I pay for your schooling and your food."

"My panties," I whimpered at him, trying to protect the last shred of my modesty.

"I pay for your clothes too, young lady." He didn't say any of this as if he were trying to keep it from mom. I don't know where she was in the apartment while this was going on.

Then he pulled my panties down and he slapped my bare ass. It was the first time since I had been an infant that I felt his hand against the flesh of my naked ass. He slapped it repeatedly and I could feel the heat of the pain that pulsed through me.

I don't know if the single layer of cloth had really been enough to keep the pain from being too terrible, but somehow the loss of that layer of cloth made the spanking worse.

And then he was on top of me. He wasn't exactly on top of me, he was more to the side of me, behind me. I was doubled over and my ass was sticking out in one direction. He was behind me and I could feel the heavy fabric of his work pants rubbing against the cheeks of my ass.

That hurt me. That didn't tickle. I mean, the cheeks of my ass had been slapped silly with his beefy palm and they were all red and bruised and the fabric of his work pants is a very heavy fabric. He pressed hard and he was hurting me.

I started to whimper when I felt his penis out of his fly. I was doubled over and I guess I just sort of did the sort of thing an ostrich would do. I hid my head in my hands. I knew what was happening. I knew what was about to happen, but I hid my head.

Then I could feel his stiff meat rubbing up and down along the crack between my fleshy thighs. He pushed forward and he worked his hand between my legs.

That's when I cried out, "Daddy, no!" But he ignored me. I could feel the head of his cock between my legs, spreading my legs open, pressing up against the lips of my pussy.

I could feel him pushing and jabbing at the lips of my pussy. It was strange. Whenever I had imagined two people having sex, because I had thought about sex before that, I had never seen it happening that way. You know, I always figured that the woman would be on her back and that the man would be on top of her, inside her.

But, I was lying on my side, sort of like a letter 'L' and my father was pushing into my pussy from behind me. He was holding onto me by wrapping his arms around my body.

And I could feel the head of his cock up against the lips of my pussy. He pushed forward and I could feel them right in between my pussy lips. Then he kept on pushing against the interior lips of the cunt. It was really something. I could hardly believe it.

When I felt the interior lips spreading open in advance of his thrusting attack, I could feel the mushroom head of his cock pressing right up against the thin membrane of flesh that was my cherry. I knew that he was going to bust my cherry in another instant.

I started to cry. My body heaved and moved and I suppose that in a strange way I was responsible for the busting of my cherry. I mean, I sort of moved down on his prick.

Then he pushed his way into my hole. I could feel the pressure of the thing that was stretching out the flesh that had never been touched before, the flesh that had never had contact with anything before.

You understand what I'm saying. The flesh that was inside my pussy, that was on the other side of my hymen. I had never been able to reach a finger back there because my cherry had been in the way. Anyway, my fingers were certainly not as long as my father's penis.

In an instant I could feel the full length of it all the way inside me. I could feel his balls hanging down against the smooth flesh of my thighs. And I could feel the cold metal of his zipper rubbing against the soft cheeks of my ass.

He pulled out and then he pushed back into me. He was fucking me like crazy and the walls of my pussy were massaged by the rubbing of his cock head. I could feel the walls pulling tightly together around the constantly moving cock.

Then he slammed all the way into me and I could feel his cock pulsating. It terrified me. I realized that my father was shooting the same sperm into me that had originally made me.

And then he pulled all the way out of me without a word. By the time I turned around he already had his dick back in his pants and he was zipping up his fly. He kept on mumbling to himself that I was so disrespectful and that I had to be taught my lesson.

Then he grumbled at me and told me to get dressed and never to be sassy to him again.

He didn't say a word about the fact that he had fucked me, Doctor. In fact, in the last year he must have been fucking me a few times each month, but he still has never said a word about it. He pretends that it hasn't happened. I don't know what to do, Doctor.

My father will come into my bedroom all drunk while I'm asleep and he'll wake me up and tell me that he's come to punish me. It'll always start as if he's just going to spank me, but I know where it's going to end. He puts it in me and fucks me.

Doctor, it's so crazy because he still lectures me and shouts at me about my virginity and about the fact that I should keep my virginity and not be a slut. But, he's the one who's been fucking me. He was the one who originally took my virginity.

But, he's never said anything about any of it. He pretends it didn't happen.

One time I tried to talk to my mother. I mean, she's always in the apartment. The woman never leaves the apartment except to go shopping. I go to school and father goes to work, but mom is always in the apartment. I think she's been in the apartment each time my father has fucked me.

So, I tried to talk to her. I figured that she knew what was going on. I said, "Mom, I need to talk to you about the things that daddy does to me. I don't know what to do."

And she said, "Your father is in charge of discipline in the house."

And I said, "But, Mom, you don't know what he's been doing to me. If you knew ... "

And she interrupted and said, "I won't talk about it." She gave me this really funny look that told me that she knew what was happening, but wouldn't do anything about it.

Now he always does it when he's drunk, which happens often. I don't know what to do. He threatens to hurt me and usually he does slap me and beat me a little bit.

When my guidance counselor called from school and asked if there was any trouble at home because I seemed to he distant in school, my father beat me really bad that night. I was in pain all night long from it and there are still some bruises on my legs.

Don't make me go home to him now. Now that I told you what happened, Doctor, he'll beat me again.

Doctor, I don't know what to do. I know he's going to find out I told you all of this and I know he's going to really hurt me. I'm so scared, I don't know what he'll do.

CONCLUSION

The girl's reticence to tell the story in the first place indicates that she was not fabricating the tale. She was certainly not fabricating her fear of her father.

It was not easy to manipulate official strings in that way, but I was able to arrange an immediate shelter for the girl so that she would not have to go home. Her father, called in by the juvenile authorities, finally admitted tearfully to everything he had done.

He is presently in a state facility that deals with sex offenders. Keep in mind that in raping his daughter, he was attacking an under-age minor and was subject to prosecution. However, it was felt that he needed more mental help for his rage and violent nature than prison. Reports show that he has been a very difficult patient.

It has been difficult for Quinn to make any adjustments to any of the foster homes which have taken her. At the present time I am not optomistic about the girl's course of therapy unless there is a drastic improvement in her within the next twelve months.

Unfortunately there has been talk about sending the girl to an institution provided with mental health facilities. This would be unfortunate because of the very young people who are sent to mental hospitals a very high percentage of them never leave.

This was an unfortunate incident in which a man who was neither sufficiently mature nor sufficiently stable became a father. Quinn's mother has refused to take the girl back, blaming her daughter for the trouble in the household and demonstrating a lack of maturity on her own part.

CASE HISTORY FIVE

SUBJECT: Tanya U. AGE: Fourteen

INTERVIEW ONE

Tanya had a slight trace of an accent. She had an exquisite beauty which did not have an American look to it at all. Her hair was black and yet her eyes were almost a violet blue and her flesh was very white.

Her body was girlish and perhaps a little on the awkward side, but it showed the potential to be a very sexual woman's body. She looked as if she was right on the verge of blossoming.

She wore "neat clothes which were hardly fashionable. She sat in an upright manner with her legs together and her hands at her side, a very formal position which suggested a formal schooling.

Doctor, it is important that you hear my story. It is important that you know what happened. My father is not to blame for anything that happened. He is a good man.

First I suppose that I should tell you about my family, yes?

My father and mother escaped from East Germany when I was an infant. They just got out with the clothes they were wearing on their backs and with me cradled in my mother's arms. It was all very tricky for them and even now my father did not wish to discuss the details.

I was five when we left Germany for America. My father had a chance to teach at a university here. He is a noted professor dealing with German classics.

I guess the most difficult part was getting out.

We settled down here in America and life was good to us. My parents always told me how much better it is here than it was for them in East Germany. They loved it here.

Well, my father still loves it here. My mother is gone. She was taken from us.

It was something that suddenly happened. She had a cancer. It was not a very nice thing, but father said that it was merciful because it was all over very fast.

Suddenly, two years ago we were left alone. Father hired a housekeeper to take care of the house four days a week and to look after me when I got home from school. The fifth afternoon when I got home from school he would be working at home.

Since he taught at the college he had been able to arrange a schedule where he only went in there four days a week. But, more and more, I started to look after the house. First the housekeeper would let me help her make my father's dinner, and then I started to consider it a treat to make his dinners. Then, it became my job.

The housekeeper would do the shopping though and I would prepare everything. I am an incredible cook for a girl my age. Everyone says so. Everyone says that I do brilliant things with meals.

It pleased me that I could help father in that way. I wanted to stand in for my mother in every way I could. I mean, my father had always been so good to me, it was only natural that I should want to be good to him. He and I became very much closer after the loss.

Up until that time I had been very close to my mother. Father seemed to live in a different world. His world smelled of pipe tobacco, if you know what I mean.

But, after we lost mother my father and I became closer. He took me with him whenever he went anywhere over the weekend. During the summer, when I didn't have school, he let me sit in on his summer school classes. I would go with him to his office on the campus and then I would go with him to the classroom. I didn't understand most of what was said, but my father would stand up in the front of the room and once in a while he would look at me and smile. That was all I needed. My father smiled at me and that was enough.

There was one other tiling that started between us. After dinner I would put the dishes in the dishwasher. If the housekeeper was coming the next day she would take the dishes out and put them away. If she wasn't coming then my father would take care of putting the dishes away. He took on that one chore around the house on those few days because he said that it was important that I not be distracted until I finished my homework.

And then I would have to go do my homework. I had an unfair advantage over all the other kids in school. My homework was due the same day it was given. Rather than showing it first to the teacher in school the following day, I would have to show my homework for the next day to my father the very night I had done it. He would discuss it with me.

Since he was also a teacher he said that he didn't want to write my homework for me and he didn't want to give me ideas that the teacher would grade me on. "After all, the teacher must give the grade to you and not to your father. Right?" But he always wanted to talk to me about what I had learned. If my homework involved the War of 1812 he and I would discuss that war. If my homework was in math, he and I would talk about math.

We wouldn't talk about the math questions I had to answer, but we would talk about things related. One night he started to tell me that numbers weren't real. He said that it was a complicated theory. But it fascinated me to hear about that.

I got into the habit of climbing into his bed with him and we would talk together in that way. Sometimes I would fall asleep in his bed and he would lift me up and carry me back into my own room. Sometimes I was still partially awake and I would be aware of my father carrying me from one room to the other. That would be wonderful. I felt so safe in his big arms.

And then something else happened. I started to think sexual thoughts about my father. I don't know exactly when they started. I'm not even sure when the sexual thoughts started.

I know that I was young when I started to touch myself down there. You know what I mean. Well, when I first started it was just a nice feeling and I didn't really connect it with the idea of sex. But, after a few months or maybe a year I found that I was thinking sexual thoughts while I was touching myself. Oh, I wasn't thinking about having sex with a man, but I was thinking about male bodies. My father had some medical books in his library. I didn't understand most of what most of them said, but there were some bits I could figure out.

That's basically the way I found out about sex, little by little. I had a pretty fair idea what the naked male body looked like at that time. I mean, I had a good idea at that time of what the body looked like. I guess the naked male body hasn't changed in the last two or three years.

I didn't mean to turn that into a joke, Doctor. That's the sort of thing my father would always say to me if I do something grammatically incorrect like split a modifier or dangle a participle.

Anyway, I was telling you that I had started to put my father into the sexual fantasies. I would' picture myself naked with my father, holding him and having him hold me.

The picture wasn't too far from reality. We would lie next to each other on the same bed he had shared with my mother. In the real life picture we were both clothed however.

Sometimes he and I would get off the subject of schoolwork though and we would start to talk about mother. He would cry and then he would apologize to me for crying. He would say that he has to stay strong so that I could always depend on him and lean on him.

I told him that wasn't the truth and that he could cry. Then it would be an excuse for me to put my arms around my father. That was the best part of it. I would always cry also.

He didn't cry every time I cried. But, I cried every time he cried.

Sometimes we would both start crying right out of nowhere. He would say something about the summer and I would ask him if he remembered the trip we took to the park and then we would remember that and we would remember that mother was with us and we would both start weeping.

It was the beautiful things that really made the two of us cry.

And, during all of that I was thinking more and more of my father as a sex object. He was and still is a very handsome man with broad shoulders and a powerful jaw. He is not handsome in a pretty way, but in a very rugged and masculine way.

One night I was lying on his bed in that way and I told him, "It must be so difficult for you without mother."

He shook his head and said, "I don't want to talk about my difficulties, dear."

"No, no, father," I said. "You must be so lonely without any woman in your life."

He blushed and said, "That isn't something that a father talks about."

"But, father, if you don't talk to me who can you talk to about this?"

He laughed and hugged me. Then I said, "I would do anything to make you happy."

When he looked into my eyes he saw that I meant it. I really meant it. He told me to leave and to go to my own bedroom, that it was late and that he was tired.

I suddenly started to cry and he took me in his arms, trying to comfort me. I guess the blanket pulled back and he was there in his pajamas and I was there in my nightgown and he had his arms around me. "Don't cry. There's no reason for you to cry."

"But I just want to please you. I just want to ... do anything for you. I don't want you to be unhappy. I don't want you to be lonely.

Father, I want to love you."

Our eyes met. I didn't know what he was going to do, whether he was going to hit me or kiss me. For a long moment I just stayed like that. He knew that I was willing. My eyes told him that I was willing. It was up to him to make the next move, but I felt that I had made every single move up to that time. I held my breath as his lips neared mine.

And then I felt his warm tender lips lightly brushing against my lips. It was like an electric shock for the moment. He just brushed his lips from side to side. It was so sensual, so exciting.

I felt his tongue against my lips. He was urging my lips open and he was trying to get his tongue into my mouth. Then he worked his tongue between my teeth and pressed it against my tongue. He was working our tongues back and forth against each other.

Then I just got on my back and let him climb on top of me. I was in the position that I wanted, Doctor. You can't say that any force was used. In fact, my father had never even said anything to me to suggest that. It was all my doing then.

He kissed me for the longest time and his hands moved so slowly on my body.

From what I've told you so far, would you say that this was a dirty thing? Would you say that my father did the wrong thing, that he corrupted me? He did not. It was beautiful.

INTERVIEW TWO

This time you would like me to actually tell you what happened with my father? Okay. I have no shame about it. Why should I feel shame, Doctor, when I love him.

We expressed our love in a physical way. What is wrong with that? I am happier that it was my father, someone whose love was true, than to have it be some boy who would love me falsely.

I was in his bed, where I wanted to be. I had managed to get him kissing me. The two of us were embracing together and then he was rubbing on top of me with his pajamas still on.

I could feel his excited organ through the cloth of his pajamas. I just remained lying on my back, doing the things I felt a good girl would do. When I say a good girl I don't mean a young child who is good in her parents' eyes, but rather a girl who is not a whore. You understand. Like good girls and bad girls. I was always a good girl and proud of it.

So, although I was actually the one who had started the whole thing, once we were in the physical activity, I let my father take the lead. After all, I did not know what to do. I did not know what any two people would do in that situation.

"You look so much like her." As soon as he whispered that I knew just what he was thinking. All my life people have been telling me how much I looked like my mother.

Father was thinking that same thing. I could see it in his eyes.

I was giving him the gift that no one else could give him. I was giving him back his wife, the one love of his life. I was being her for him, because I looked so much like her.

He was so tender when he slid my nightgown up my body. Then I was naked as he peeled it off my arms. He got up on his knees and pulled off his pajamas. That was the first time I had actually seen his entire naked body. He got down on top of me and he was planting kisses all over my face and my neck. He was pressing his lips down and sucking on the flesh.

Then he wrapped his lips around each of my nipples and he sucked on them. I tingled all over when I felt that happening. He took my left nipple between his lips and he worked his teeth back and forth against the flesh, pulling on it with his teeth.

His tongue, meanwhile, was flicking from side to side against the tit. And then he paid attention to the other nipple in the same way. He was sucking hard and then he was enticing it with his tongue at the same time. The two of us were both squirming together. I could feel his erect penis rubbing up against my thigh as he did that to me.

Then he started to work his tongue down along the middle of my belly. I could feel him jabbing his tongue in against my belly button. Then his lips were right in the bush of hair that fringed my pussy slit. He was pulling on the wispy hairs with his lips.

And finally he had his closed mouth right up against the delicate flesh of my cunt lips. He pressed his tongue forward and ray pussy lips parted. He was working his tongue from side to side against the delicate flesh of my cunt. And then he pushed forward so that his tongue was inside the interior lips of my cunt. He tickled the special little love "button in there. He knew just the right way to tickle it.

I had often used the tip of my fingers up against that spot, but it was so much more incredible with his tongue doing what my finger did. Let's face it, tongues feel nicer. They slide over a surface and they have their own special sort of pressure.

I loved it. I had to admit to that. Then he pushed his tongue deep into me and pulled it back. He was actually fucking the lips of my pussy with his tongue. The friction was driving me absolutely out of my mind. I pressed my thighs together and rubbed them on both sides of his face at the same time. I started to bounce up and down on the bed.

It was as if I were a bucking bronco and he was riding me with his tongue.

I wasn't cumming yet. I knew that I would know when that would happen to me.

Finally, he pulled his tongue out of me and climbed on top of me once more. His eyes were looking into my eyes as he kissed me and wrapped his arms around me.

"My darling. My little darling," he kept on groaning. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure. Papa, make love to me. Take my body. Do it to me."

I could feel the way he was positioning the head of his penis against my virgin slit. He pressed it forward and I could feel the flared head spreading open the lips of my cunt. Then he pushed from side to side and finally he pushed straight in so that he had managed to separate the interior lips of my vagina. I could feel the pressure against my cherry.

He looked down into my eyes once more. Just at the moment that I knew he was going to bust right into my cherry, I softly whispered, "I love you. Papa, ich leibe dich."

And then I felt it. But it wasn't even a pain for me. It was like an intense pulling for a long instant. And then it was a splendid feeling like I was being spread apart.

He looked down into my face and then he started to plant kisses all over me.

I felt as if he was spreading me apart with a stiff poker. But I wanted to be spread apart in that way. Even before he had managed to get the full length of it inside me, I was pushing my body up against his and trying to meet the thrust of it, trying to get more of it inside me.

When he finally did manage to get it all the way inside me and he started to fuck in and out it was more of an erotic thrill than I had ever imagined. I swear, it was better than I ever thought it would be. When he pulled back I felt gooseflesh all over my body, standing out on the back of my neck and on my hands and my feet.

And then when he pushed forward I could feel my breath being cut short.

But, these are all positive things I'm describing. What I'm trying to explain to you, Doctor, is that I didn't only feel the dick in my pussy. I was feeling it in my entire body.

I was responding to the fucking all over. And he was paying attention to all of my body. He was feeling me all over. He was rubbing his fingers against my flesh, enticing me like that.

And I was arching my body up, meeting the thrusts of his advancing lance and loving it all.

He kept on moving in and out of me and I could feel the walls of my pussy getting thicker and thicker with the juice that was oozing out of my body. The walls of my cunt became like sponges that were sopping up the juice and getting thicker around the cock so that the tunnel he had to travel through was getting tighter all the time.

And then the tunnel was clinging onto the swollen flesh of his penis.

He kept on massaging me and I kept feeling more and more turned on. And then I felt the walls of my pussy collapsing around the invading cock. He pushed in and he started to cum at the same time. I could feel the pulsing of his hard meat against my own pulsing flesh.

Since then my father and I have been to bed together a number of times.

He is a wonderful lover. I do not have anyone to compare him with, but he is attentive to every bit of my body. Once he even started to make love to me and he started to lick my body all over, including my toes and my fingers. I do not regret anything I've done.

How could you condemn my father for this?

Now he says that he thinks we should stop making love to each other. He says that he worries about the attachment that's been formed and he worries about my future. This only makes me cry. I just wanted to make him happey.

It's not right that he should take this away from me after giving me such pleasure.

Doctor, I'm feeling so sad now. It was as if having my father sexually almost made up for the loss of my mother. Please don't hold it against me that I said that. I can't help myself. It's really the way I feel. I think my mother, God rest her soul, would have been happy to know that I was taking care of father and father was taking care of me.

Things have been strained between us since he refused to have sex with me. He said that I should tell you everything and that I should trust you; Doctor. I have told you everything, but I can tell you don't think I should be having sex with my father.

But, what could my father do? I should tell you what happened just last night. I climbed into his bed after he was asleep and I saw to it that his pajamas were open and that he was excited before he woke up. I didn't give him any time to protest. I seduced him.

So, even after all his protests he still wanted me. He still couldn't say no to me.

He's told me all sorts of reasons why he feels so guilty, but I don't believe him. I have to believe my heart. My heart tells me that I am doing the right thing, Doctor.

CONCLUSION

Contrary to popular wisdom the heart of a young girl will not always lead her on the correct path. Her heart doesn't have the sense and experience to see that she is depriving herself of important social experiences, limiting her own and her father's lives.

Our lives are made up of a series of encounters and influences-parents, teachers, friends. Although she may feel that her relationship with her father is the most perfect she will ever have, and even if that is the truth, it is necessary for her to grow as a person and to move on, to permit other people to enter her life, whether as sex partners or friends.

The attachment to her father is too strong. The girl needs psychological counseling to help her to stand on her own feet without this strong need for her father. Her desire here, as generous as she has made it sound, is actually to hold onto her father and to keep him in her debt so that he will always be there for her.

In other words she would like a situation in which she would never marry and he would never remarry, a situation which would no doubt be unfortunate for both of them.

Experiencing the world for Tanya at this age means dating boys her own age and being a child, rather than being an older woman, a replacement for the mother she lost and the wife that her father lost. Unless she takes advantage of the childhood now she will regret it eventually.

CASE HISTORY SIX

SUBJECT: Veronica W. AGE: Seventeen

INTERVIEW ONE

Veronica had very fluffy blonde hair and a full figure. She was wearing an expensive dress which she wore well. She was dressed in line with her age and with the best taste, nothing flashy, nothing which would call attention to itself.

It was clear to me that she had the feminine charms that one connects with the old South. She was a very gracious girl and displayed a great deal of refinement.

Her voice was very soft and she articulated each word clearly. But, as she grew more excited with the progress of her tale, she started to speak louder and the articulation disappeared into a Southern drawl.

Doctor, my great-grandfather was a big general in the Civil War.

I started off by telling you that because that's really something you should know about my family. They're still fighting the same war with the North and with everyone else.

You see, my mother is this leader of society and she feels that our family has to set a standard, that we have to be better than everyone else. That caused one really big problem during all the time I was growing up. There was no one good enough for me to associate with.

Do you know what it's like to be in a town and not be able to have any of the kids over to your house? My mother wouldn't have approved of any of them. Of course there were some of the kids who sucked up to me, but they were mostly the apple polishers or the children of apple polishers. Remember that my parents were the only really wealthy people in the town.

There were kids there who would have killed for a chance to see the inside of our house and that was precisely the attitude that my mother wanted developed in the town. "They can see the house," she said, "if they're ever hired as domestic laborers for us."

Of course as I grew up most of the kids just avoided me. There was a lot of animosity toward me. A lot of kids felt that I was a rotten snob who thought I was too good for them. Originally it had all been my mother's doing. She was the one who told me I couldn't see any of them. But, eventually I had to take it on myself. I mean, I needed to defend myself against them and the easiest defense was to take on the attitude that I was better than they were.

When I was little there were a few incidents in school which were unpleasant. There was no private school for me to go to and my mother didn't want me to leave home to go to school. Probably leaving home to go to school would have been the best thing for me.

But, anyway, there were terribly unpleasant things that happened when I was young. There was once a fight when two little girls started to tell me that my father was a rotten bastard who had taken advantage of their daddy. They started to hit me. Now, I didn't know anything about my father's business, and I suppose the two of them were just quoting what they had heard from their parents. So, I just quoted what I had heard from my mother and I told them that they were just white trash and that their father was lazy.

The teacher came down on my side, of course. After all, my father was the most powerful man in town. She did give me an embarrassing dressing down in front of the class, telling me that the people who were called white trash were actually the backbone of the South. She was ordered by the principal to make a public apology to me in front of the class. That embarrassed me even more.

You can see how, with things like that going on, I just didn't get annoyed much in school. It was easier for the kids to avoid me and to talk behind my back about what a snob I was. But, no one even said anything to my face about it. They didn't dare.

So, the only people I could deal with in the whole town were the members of my own family. Every now and then my mother would have some cousin of mine visit us and stay with us through Christmas or over the summer. At least that was someone close to my age.

And then there was the family in the house and the servants. That was the scope of my world. My mother reminded me every day that I had to set an example.

Why do you think they've taken me to you instead of to a doctor closer to home? They didn't dare let anyone in the state know that I wanted to see a psychiatrist. I had to rant and rave and nearly tear the house down until they let me come here, and as I said they wanted me to come to you, here in the North because there was less fear of anyone at home finding out.

I needed to come here to talk to you, to talk to someone, because I needed a way out of my problem. I need to get away from that house, from my mother, from my family. It's all gotten to be too much for me. Everything is so complicated now.

I can admit this to you because you are a doctor. I think you should know that I've had sexual passion for quite a number of years. I mean, I've touched myself. I have been excited by the idea of sex ever since I was very young.

The problem for me was that I wanted to have sex, I was curious about boys, but I only had access to members of my own family. My mother wouldn't hear of me going near anyone else.

Wait. I should tell you that aside from the incest incidents there was also one thing that happened that would be called a lesbian incident. I mean, something happened with another girl.

My mother figured it was okay for me to associate with girls while she didn't let me associate with boys, for fear I would be contaminated by them or something.

There was a girl who wasn't quite from the town, but at least she was from the county. She and I used to see a great deal of each other and there were many times she would stay over at our house, sleeping in my room. There were a few incidents when I was supposed to go visit her and stay at her house, but my mother would always find reasons to cancel those.

Anyway, this girl, Xenia was her name, was very pretty and very well-developed for her age. She was, in fact, much more developed than any other girl our age. She was the same age as I.

I remember how the first physical contact with her first started. She started to compare our bodies. I was embarrassed to have her measure my breasts and compare them to hers, but she kept insisting. She said that in another few years she would want to see the results.

And so she stripped to the waist and revealed her womanly breasts. I just had two little bumps at that time. She had me use the tape measure around her nipples and then she told me to strip to the waist so that she could measure my breasts also.

"Now don't you laugh at me, Xenia," I told her when I was undressing for her.

She didn't laugh. She measured around my breasts and I could tell that she was letting her hands stray on the flesh of my tits a little longer than was absolutely necessary.

Then she wanted me to measure her waist. My waist was thinner, since she had a little baby fat.

And somehow she convinced me to strip to my panties so that we could measure each other's hips. It was when she was down measuring mine that I felt her fingers rubbing across my pussy lips.

I pulled back and told her to stop it and she started to laugh, making it into a joke. "What's the matter? Don't you like it when I do that to you? I'll bet it feels good."

Well, it did feel good. It felt wonderful, in fact, when Xenia brushed her fingers between my legs and pressed them up against my pussy lips. Before I really knew what was happening, she had her fingers inside one of the leg openings of my panties.

She was rubbing her finger up and down against the raw flesh of my cunt lips.

I tingled all over. She got me onto the bed and then she was all over me, rubbing her body on mine. We never licked each other's pussies or anything like that, but we did rub our bodies and we did kiss. She slid under me and she made a remark that since I was so flat and undeveloped at that time I could be the boy and she could be the girl.

That really got me upset. I guess I had insecurities at that time.

I thought about it a lot afterwards. I wondered if I was a lesbian and I decided ghat I was a little bit of everything. What I'm trying to say is that when I shut my eyes and I touch myself at night I have images of males and females. I guess that must be the test of it. The test must me what I think of when I close my eyes.

But, that doesn't seem to define anything since, as I said, I think about both males and females. I guess that deep in my heart I'm a bisexual. I know that I enjoyed the feeling of Xenia's body next to mine, but I guess it would be easier in my life to try to ignore that.

Then again, if the best chance for love or lust that I'm going to have is going to turn out to be with a female, I'm certainly not going to be enough of a fool to turn it down.

It's amazing to me the number of incidents I've had with males in my family. I can only wonder if the other members of my family have had the same sort of thing.

I guess I should start from the beginning. I have four brothers. Three of them are older than I am and one of them is younger than I am. I am the girl in the family and so I'm the one who has to be protected and looked after. That is to say, that's the notion they have in my family. They have very old-fashioned ideas about females.

They all see themselves as saviours of Southern womanhood and they see me as the one to be saved.

And yet, the things that have happened with them have really been outrageous!

The first thing I remember happening, although I'm sure there were incidents all through my childhood of my brothers exposing me and prodding me and exposing themselves to me, was with my brother Yancy. Yancy is only one year older than I am.

I was ten and he was eleven when we first played down in the game room together and pulled down our pants to explore each other. That was just looking and touching.

But, Zachary is four years older than I am and he started me off, also when I was only ten, jerking him off. I really didn't know what it was that he was asking me to do but he wanted me to move my hand up and down this stiff rod of flesh until he told me to stop.

He turned it into a game for me, but there were other games to follow.

INTERVIEW TWO

Zachary was the one who took my virginity. He also took a few other things as well.

Even before he took my virginity he taught me how to give him oral sex.

Of course I was still too young to really know what was going on, but I had a pretty fair idea. I didn't really object to anything, because I was enjoying it all. I was very curious and I liked the fact that my brothers were always exposing themselves to me and things like that.

Zach's game for his first blowjob from me was really clever. He knew that I couldn't resist chocolate. He told me that he had a jar of chocolate syrup down in the basement and I went running. He did have the syrup, but he told me that he wanted me to lick it off.

He spooned it onto his erect penis and then told me to lick it off.

When I first put my tongue to the penis, which I had been touching for more than two years at that time, it felt so hot that I pulled away from it, surprised. He was angry at that and I didn't want him to be mad at me. I started to lick at it.

I never actually took the head of it in my mouth at that time and I never swallowed his cum. I just licked along the side of it and he urged me to jerk him off at the same time. I worked my tongue all over it, including around the head. I'm sure I must have licked off some of his pre-cum mixed with the chocolate. I know that sometimes there was a salty taste.

The first time I ever got fucked it was because my two oldest brothers, Zach and Albert, talked me into playing a game of strip poker. I suppose that I hadn't seen Zach naked in more than a year at that time because he had been away at college and I was excited about the game. I was also excited about losing because I wanted to display my body.

I was fourteen at that time and I had developed a great deal in the year since he had been away.

We all played for our clothes and I was the big loser. That was natural since, when I would drop out of a hand, the boys wouldn't bother to bet against each other. So, it was always a case of the two of them playing against me, two against one.

But I didn't really mind. We started to play for other things and then the team lines were drawn a little more decidedly. It became a game of Zach saying, "If I lose this hand, Veronica, I'll take off my underpants and if you lose this hand you'll have to take my dick in your mouth and keep it there for two minutes."

I went along with everything they suggested and they knew that I loved it.

As I said, I was the big loser. And as we ' continued to play for more and more I found myself lying naked on the sofa that's in the game room with Zach on top of me and Albert watching. "Wow, you're really gonna bust her cherry!" Albert said in a hoarse voice.

When he said that, Zach had his fingers at my pussy lips, spreading me open, and he was positioning his cock head right up against the inside of my cunt, letting my hot and wet lips slap shut around the invading head of his penis.

Then I could feel the broad head of his dick up against the interior cunt lips and then I could feel it pushing right up against the thin wall of flesh that guarded my virginity.

"I'm gonna do it to you, Veronica," he said, looking right into my eyes. Then he shouted, "Yahoo."

And that was it. I felt the wall of flesh ripping in front of the head of his cock and I could feel the hot blood that was pushing up along the insides of my body. I arched my body up. No, I remember that he pulled my hips up off the couch.

Before he even started to fuck my pussy, I could hear my brother Albert at the side singing, "Me next. Me next." Albert can really be a horse's ass at times.

Zach ignored him as he started to fuck in and out of my pussy. He pulled his dick back out of me and then he slammed it all the way into me. He was working it in and out nice and slow and easy and it felt so wonderful, so sexy that I was going wild.

Then he turned me onto my side and he looked up at Albert and asked, "You ever fuck an ass hole?"

Albert reached down and ran his fingers along the crack of my ass. I tensed up and looked at Zach, but before I could even ask any question he told me to calm down.

"You're gonna love it, Veronica. It's gonna feel great with both of us in you at the same time."

It turned out to be quite an effort to get Albert's thick cock inside my anus. He was working it into me and forcing it into me and meanwhile Zach kept on fucking in and out of my pussy without any pause. Once Albert had the head of his cock lodged between the cheeks of my ass so that the flare of it was actually inside my sphincter, it was the pushing from Zach that helped him to work his way into my body.

And then it was really something to feel. It was all these sensations at the same time. Zach would push into me and Albert would pull out of me and I would feel like my body was being pushed backwards. Then when Albert would push into me again I would feel it even more because of the way my body was being forced in that direction.

Then there were times when both of them pushed into me at the same time. I swear, Doctor, I thought they were going to drill a hole right in the middle of my body when they did that. There was Zach's penis pressing against the very deepest part of my pussy and there was Albert's penis pressing all the way into my ass hole. The heads of those two things seemed to be divided by just a thin layer of flesh that was right in the middle of my body.

But when both of them pulled out of me I felt a need to be filled. I felt a vacuum in my body that was caused by that pulling back. Even though that was the incident where I first lost my virginity I knew right then and there that I wanted a lot of sex.

But, where was I supposed to get that sex? Doctor, I really believe that my mother has promoted incest in the family. I feel that she's kept me in that house to serve as a whore for my brothers, since that was her way of keeping my brothers in the house.

This may all sound crazy to you, but consider the way things have been. This sort of thing has been going on for years, and I do mean for years. Mother hasn't noticed anything unusual. She's never caught any of us in the act. We can get away with murder, or at least we can get away with incest, as long as we do it in the house.

Apparently she would rather have me commiting incest with all of my brothers than to have me associating with anyone who is my social inferior.

Now, the real thing that's killing me is that she refuses to let me go away to college even though she's let all my older brothers go to college. She won't even consider an all girls' school because she doesn't trust me and she doesn't trust the world.

And whenever this subject comes up she gets a headache and she can't discuss it. Doctor, I don't want to run away from home. I mean, I don't want some insane life somewhere. I'd like to stay as part of my family. I like my family. I like my home. I even like my mother, even though I think she's a little bit on the crazy side. But, I can't stay in that house.

How can I get my mother to let me out of that house? She has to let me go to college. Maybe you don't consider this a good reason to see a therapist, maybe it was something I could have written to an advice column in the newspaper to get an answer to. But, I couldn't have told anyone but a doctor about the incest things that have taken place with my brothers.

I should tell you that my brothers and I never discuss the things that we've done together. Things happen between us and after the things occur there might be a few whispered words about, "You've never spoken to anyone about this?"

At the time I left home with mother to make this trip to the North all of my older brothers were off at college and my younger brother didn't know the truth about my wanting to come here so that I could speak to a therapist for a few days about my problem.

It feels good to have all this off my chest. But, where do I go from here.

CONCLUSION

Once again we see that it is limiting the access children have to the outside world, it is keeping children insular and too closely tied to the family that promotes incest. Young girls and boys wish to explore sexually. They will explore sexually no matter what a parent does and the best a parent can do is to recognize this as part of growing up.

In Veronica's case when all 'normal' access to males was denied her she turned to her brothers. She deserves a great deal of credit for remaining as well-balanced and sane as she is considering the fact that she has been through an unusual growing up experience.

But, what we have here is a case of the wrong person coming in for treatment. It was vital that Veronica's mother come in to see me along with her daughter during the following days. The woman had worked too fervently at keeping her family captive in that house. She had filled her children with perverse egalitarian values. And she had promoted years of incest because she had such a paranoid fear of the outside world.

Veronica showed great understanding and acceptance of the fact that everything her mother had done was based on love which was misguided and perverted by the older woman's own neuroses. I am quite optimistic about Veronica's future.

CASE HISTORY SEVEN

SUBJECT: Betty C. AGE: Fifteen

INTERVIEW ONE

Betty was a very attractive black girl with her hair in a natural and an angry expression on her face.

Her clothes were clearly inexpensive, probably hand-me-downs, but kept neat and worn with a defiant pride by the girl. Her figure was quite well-developed for someone so young.

She made no secret of her initial mistrust and her negative attitude. It took me some time before I was able to break through her defensive shell and get to communicate with her.

Doctor, don't think I want to be here. They made me come here to talk to you.

What do you think I'm gonna tell you about? Huh? What do you wanna know about?

You wanna know about how lousy I alway had it at home, I'll tell you about that. I don't care. My momma worked real hard all her life and what did it get her? Nothing! She's still working. She's a cashier at some supermarket and she thinks she's hit the big time.

Big deal. Her momma worked cleaning people's apartments, so my momma thinks she's gone up a step in the world.

How far do you think I can go in the world? Maybe I'll get to stock shelves in a market.

We have a stinking little apartment. It's two rooms. My momma sleeps in one room and I sleep in the other room that's also a living room and a kitchen for us.

We didn't always live in that apartment. My daddy left when I was really little and my older brother is away now in a youth home. He's gonna be there for a lot of years yet.

So, now that it's just my momma and me we live in that apartment.

But the real trouble happened when niomma's older brother came to the apartment. He needed a place to stay. He said that he was just gonna stay for a few nights, but he ended up staying on there.

Dwayne isn't much good at making money, you see. So, he ended up in the apartment. I moved into the bedroom with momma and Dwayne took the couch in the living room where I used to be.

I should tell you about the neighborhood, though. Yeah, it doesn't do any good unless you Snow about the neighborhood. It's a miracle that I kept my cherry as long as I did. I mean that, it can only be called a real miracle that I kept it for so many years.

If you walk down the street and you happen to be a black woman all the guys think that you're some cheap piece of property. Any guy on the street thinks that he can just grab at you and say any kind of shit he wants to say to you and grab his crotch in front of you and laugh at you.

Shit, it's all those stupid dudes who think they're fighting for black culture and for black pride who do that to black women. Don't they have one fuckin' brain between all of them? Don't they know that as long as they treat every black woman who walks down the street as if she's a piece of shit then there ain't never gonna be no respect for them. Hell, they don't deserve respect unless they can treat me with respect, that's what I say.

Fuck all of them! I started to carry a little knife with me when I was ten! My momma found it and she was really upset and she was crying and she was asking me why I had to have the knife with me and I told her that she knew what it was to be a black woman in the city and she knew what it was I had to deal with on the street.

And then she became really quiet and she gave me back the knife. She hasn't said anything about it in all the years since then. I guess she figured that it was better for me to have the knife with me than to get raped a hundred times a day.

Most of the time all I have to do is turn around real fast when there are two hot-shot guys following me down the street, saying things to me, calling out to me and telling me that they want to fuck me, and I turn around and show them the knife and I ask which one of them wants to pull it out first. I say, "Which one of you wants to pull down your pants first. I got something real special for your dicks."

Then they back off and they start to say, "Oh, this little bitch is probably a dyke. Leave her alone. She wants to go suck out pussies." How dare they? I mean, what right do they have to make my life so shitty every fuckin' day I walk down the street?

You said that I looked mad at the world when I walked into the office. Well, sure I did. I'm a black girl and I have to look that way. If I walk down the street smiling some cop will think I'm a hooker and hell arrest me. I mean it. I had a friend in school and she was made head cheerleader that day and she was smiling to herself while she walked down the street and she was singing to herself and all and a cop picked her up for soliciting.

I'll tell you that I'm proud of who I am. I am Betty. I'm a person. I look good and I do what I do good. But, if I wanted to wish the shittiest thing I could wish on my worst enemy I would wish that he would get born again as a black woman here in this city.

Now, maybe you understand what I'm talking about, Doctor. Okay?

I mean, those white girls in their nice white schools can go out on dates with boys and they can pet a little bit and they can get respect. But, the boys in my school just expect that you're gonna put up with anything. I mean, do white boys in school grab their crotches in front of the white girls when the girls walk down the hall?

You can't give me an answer? That's because you know that the white girls expect more respect than that. The white girls would really be shocked and angry and pissed if they saw a boy doing that. And if they went to the school authorities and they said, "That boy did something nasty. That boy made a nasty move at me," that boy would be kicked out.

What the hell do you think I would do if I was raped on my block? I would take my knife and I would cut that fucker's heart right out of his body while he was asleep. But I wouldn't go to the police. Do you think those pigs give a fuck when a black girl is raped?

I feel like I've got the whole world against me. And don't use that word on me. I know what paranoid means. I'm not paranoid. Things are rough. I'm telling you the truth and you know it.

My brother used to like to act like a big man. He's been gone for two years though. I go to visit him when my momma can't get away to go. That's okay now. We just talk.

He tells the other guys in the place that I'm his girlfriend instead of telling them that I'm his sister. I don't care. If that gives him a little more prestige that's fine with me.

I know what it is for him to try to keep up a face there. It's not easy, Doctor.

As far as sex goes, I guess I learned about it pretty early. I must have been a little kid when I first saw a couple fucking in an alley. It was the first time J saw a man's full-sized dick and the first time I saw a woman's hairy twat that was spread open.

I'll tell you though, I don't even watch that shit anymore because it goes on all the time.

Yes, my brother did have something to do with me. When I was younger he used to try to get me to show my snatch to his friends, and I would fight against him.

One time they all held me down and they looked at my snatch. But, fortunately for me they were still a little young to get into a heavier scene then and there.

There were times when I looked at him and times when he showed me what he had on purpose. Oh, I don't know, Doctor. It all becomes sort of a blur. But, the important thing is that in all that time I never gave up my cherry. But, then the thing happened with my uncle.

The thing with my uncle was really the thing that was just terrible. It was awful.

INTERVIEW TWO

Dwayne was an annoying bastard, but momma wouldn't kick him out of the house.

I never called him Uncle Dwayne. I just called him Dwayne. Even though he was older than my momma, he looked younger than she did because he had that style about him and he also had a hell of a lot of drugs about him. He wasn't a junkie. He had more class than that. But, he didn't have too much more class than that, just a very little bit.

Like I said, he was sleeping on the couch. There were a couple of times when I would walk through the living room to get to the bathroom and I would see him, sprawled out there with nothing on his body at all but part of the blanket that was wrapped around one leg.

I don't know if he did that on purpose but it looked to me like he always had a boner.

Once or twice he sort of made passes at me and I told my momma about that. Momma would always say that Dwayne didn't mean what I thought he meant or that he was just teasing. Momma liked to defend Dwayne. She felt something for him because he was all the family she had.

But, it did no good. Momma was feeding him and giving him a little money that only went for drugs. No matter how much money momma would give him in an evening, he would come in the next morning looking a mess and he wouldn't have a penny of it left.

He never had a penny left in his pocket and he was always hungry.

And then there was the way he looked at me. He would say things like, "You sure do look delicious. Nothing I like better than a black cherry."

Just before the thing happened with Dwayne there was a mess in his life. I don't know what it was, but I heard him talking tojmomma. He said that he owed somebody a lot of money and she was finally upset with him. He wouldn't even tell her any details of what it was all about. He told her that if she couldn't give him that much money to pay back what he owed, she should at least give him a couple of hundred so that he could get out of town.

Momma didn't have that kind of money. She was keeping the apartment and taking care of me just on the money that was coming in every week. It was like hand to mouth with us.

Dwayne was really pissed and he left the house and didn't come back for two days. Momma was afraid that something happened to him. I figured he was just trying to scare her, but I didn't say anything. If you said anything against Dwayne it would make momma mad.

And then he came back. But momma wasn't home when he came back to the apartment.

She was working that night and he knew that she was working. I was home from school and I did my homework and I went to take a bath. When I was coming out of the bathroom, wrapped in a terry robe, I sort of had the feeling that someone was there in the apartment. It scared me. But, I didn't see anyone there. I figured it was my imagination.

And then, when I was going past the couch, Dwayne jumped out from behind the couch and he landed on me. I tried to fight him off, but I didn't have my knife with me and he got me by surprise. Also, he seemed to know just what he wanted to do to me.

He had some handcuffs in his hand and he cuffed my wrists behind my back. From then on, he really had me. "Sorry, but I gotta do this, girl." That's what he said to me.

I was fussin' and fightin' and trying to get him off my back. But it was no good.

He was pulling my terry robe off and I was naked and still a little bit wet underneath it.

It didn't take him much time to get me completely naked, even though he had to rip that robe. It was such an old rag that it ripped right apart when he pulled on it.

Shit, I started crying then. I started to cry for the robe because I knew that my momma couldn't afford to buy me another one. She had been giving all the extra money in the house to her shitty brother, Dwayne, and now that bastard was paying her back by ripping my robe.

He was saying to me, "In a couple of weeks you're gonna get over this, kid. It ain't gonna make no difference to you. But it's gonna make a hell of a difference to me."

"You shit. You fuckin' shitty bastard. You're gonna bust my cherry?"

"Not me," he said. "I ain't gonna do it." How can I explain this to you, Doctor. Maybe if he was drugged out and he started to rape me like that and he had taken my cherry himself there might have been some way that I could respect him again in my lifetime.

No, that's saying too much. I can't see how I could respect him. I don't know. Maybe I could have forgiven him someday in the future. But, for what he did, I can't forgive him.

He didn't do nothin' out of passion. He wasn't satisfied with the money that my momma gave him, so he also decided he would make money by selling my cherry.

The deal was that he had to deliver me as a virgin. He put a gag in my mouth and a sack over my head and then that bastard put me in a bag and was carrying me down from the apartment. I don't know where he brought me. He put me into a car and the next time I could see around me I was in somebody's dark cellar. It scared me.

And there was a man standing over in the corner with Dwayne. He was giving Dwayne money and then he turned to me and took down his pants. "She better be a virgin," is all he said.

Then he pushed his dick into me real hard and fast. When my cherry was being busted I just kept looking right at Dwayne, who was standing in the corner, watching. He looked away from me and didn't want to meet my eyes after that.

The first one wasn't the whole thing. There were other ones after that. I was fucked by about a dozen guys that night. Of course the others didn't pay Dwayne as much as the first one did. They shot drugs into me so that I would pass out and when I woke up I was naked and lying in an empty lot. Nobody wanted to rape me then because I stank from the garbage.

So, they wanted me to come see a doctor and tell him the story of what happened. That's the story. Momma tells me that Dwayne disappeared and she doesn't know where he is.

What else is there for me to tell you, Doctor? That's what my uncle did to me.

So, what are you gonna do for me now? Are you gonna give me a pill and make it all better for me? Are you gonna say something real smart and fix everything up for me? What the hell can you do to help me, Doctor? What was the point of my coming here?

CONCLUSION

Cases come in which often make a therapist feel impotent.

Betty could conceivably be removed from her home and placed under foster care, but with the burdens already existing on our foster care system and considering the number of other young girls facing similarly unpleasant environments this is a poor solution.

Her mother cannot be completely condemned for taking in the girl's uncle, although she should have been more careful for the girl's safety with a man like that around her home. However, the woman's love for her own brother is understandable.

Betty does not need psychiatric counseling. Considering the deprivations and the one particular ordeal through which she has been put she is adapting quite well. It is hoped that she can be aided by concerned social workers and teachers.

CASE HISTORY EIGHT

SUBJECT: Elsie F. AGE: Sixteen

INTERVIEW ONE

Elsie was a slender girl who looked younger than her sixteen years. The dress she wore, with its wide skirt that was rather long, and its short sleeves, looked quite old-fashioned for a girl today.

She wore her hair long and pulled back from her face. Her large blue eyes seemed frightened of everything around her. She looked all around the office, but rarely at my face.

Doctor, I don't know what I'm supposed to do here. You tell me that I should just relax and talk, but that isn't easy for me. You see, my father does all the talking in our house.

We lost my mother when I was quite young and my father and I have lived together in the big house all these years since that time. Everyone always told my father that he should give up the big house, but it's the house where he was raised and it was the house where he first settled with his wife and where I was born and he will not leave it.

I suppose there are tensions between my father and myself, even though there shouldn't be.

He's so generous and giving to me. He cares about me. But, he's very strict. I always feel that if I had my mother in the house she would permit me more than my father does. My father fears for me. He is worried about me because I am a young girl. He assumes that the worst things will happen to me. That's why he makes me dress like this.

He must approve all my clothing and he has very old-fashioned tastes.

Most of the children in school never wanted to have anything to do with me because I always looked so old-fashioned and I never spoke much. I always kept to myself.

There were no boys asking me out on dates. Well, actually a boy did ask me out to a very big dance that they had at school last year, but my father said that I couldn't go. He said that until I turned sixteen he wouldn't let me go out with any boy.

Now I am finally sixteen but there's no boy who wants me.

My father tells me that I'm pretty and I look at pictures of my mother and see that she looked just like me and she was very beautiful. I look in the mirror and I say to myself that I have beautiful hair and that I have a very nice nose and that I have big blue eyes and full lips. In every feature I am beautiful. But I don't believe that I am beautiful.

There is the subject of sex. That is a subject with which I have never felt any comfort.

I have thought about sex. I mean, when I am alone in my room and I touch myself, I think about it. I look at beautiful girls and handsome boys in school and I think to myself, "Those people are going to enjoy each other. They will enjoy their bodies."

I suppose that I just assume that I will never get a chance to enjoy a handsome boy in that way.

Well, actually, Doctor, there is something that happened. No, I am not a virgin.

Actually, Doctor, that's the reason I am here. Something happened and I lost my virginity. I lost it to my father, Doctor. It is not an easy thing for me to talk about.

It concerns the fact that I touch myself and that when I touch myself I think about male bodies. Often, when I would lie in bed I would shut my eyes and I would think about the bodies of certain boys in school. I mean, I would picture their faces and I would think of what it would be like to see them naked, to have sex with them.

I can't help blushing when I talk about such things, Doctor.

None of this is easy for me. I was saying that I think about boys in school and that I touch myself when I do. Or, sometimes it is not the boys in-school I think about. Sometimes it is some hero from a television program. I'll shut my eyes and picture some man who was on a television program that night and I'll try to imagine what he looks like naked.

That's always a pleasure for me. Of course there are some people who appear in those fantasies more than others. There's a boy in school named George. He wears glasses and has blond hair and his clothes always fit him very snugly. And then there's the hero of that television program who wears a tan uniform on the show. I don't know his name in real life.

The character he plays on the show is called Hank and that's what I call him.

Well, the one person I think about more than any other when I touch myself has always been my father. That's the truth. My father had always maintained a great deal of modesty with me, but I always thought about what he looked like naked. I mean, I thought about what he would look like if he were ever naked in front of me.

Well, then something happened, Doctor. It finally happened that he was naked in front of me.

You see, my father works out of the house. He edits a medical journal and usually he will stop into the office once in the afternoon, take home the next day's work and leave off the things he had done that day. That's the way he works.

So, he's always in the house when I get home in the afternoon. That's nice in a way, but it also always meant that I never got a chance to have any real privacy. I mean, there was never any time when I had the whole house to myself, to do with as I wished.

Sometimes I would come home from school just boiling over with sexual excitement. Maybe I would have seen some boy who looked very handsome and I would want to think about him, I would take a chance to imagine him naked. Maybe there was a boy during the lunch period who had been playing basketball with his shirt off and that had excited me.

Oh, Doctor, I would be so anxious to get home, feeling the fire in my body, and wanting to touch myself, and my father would be there. I couldn't just disappear up to my own room and close myself in. When I would get a chance I would shut myself in my room and tell him that I was doing homework, but that was where my father's interest in me, his concern for me, made my life a little more difficult. He would ask me later on what homework I had been doing and he would wonder how long it had taken me to do one thing and how long to do another thing.

I would wait until he had to make his afternoon trip into his office before I would frig myself behind the closed door of my bedroom. That was the way it went for me.

And then there was the day that it finally happened with my father. I finally saw my father naked and he caught me touching myself and then he ... did it to me. That's what happened. Oh, Doctor. I'm so ashamed of myself for what happened. I'm so ashamed.

INTERVIEW TWO

The girl needed a chance to rest because she could not continue with her story. When I had her come back into my office she continued the story carefully and slowly, often stopping to catch her breath as if she had been running, often on the verge of tears.

It was clear that this recollection was not easy for her.

Well, Doctor, I came home from school after only half a day. They had announced the fact that it would be a half day since there was some clerical thing that all the teachers had to do but I suppose I had forgotten to tell father about it. I don't know why.

I knew my father's schedule. He always urged me to get work done before doing anything for myself. Rather than waking up in the morning and having his coffee and taking a shower and then going to work, he was in the habit of going to work and doing a certain amount and then making a nice breakfast for himself. Then he would go back to work, accomplishing a certain amount, and then he would take his shower and shave and everything.

Then he would take an early afternoon break to do the shopping or whatever he had to do. He had a cleaning woman in twice a week and the two of us weren't too messy, so he never had to deal with the laundry or anything like that. And then he would go back to work for the rest of the afternoon, taking a little coffee break to chat with me when I got home from school.

That day when I had half a day at school I came in while he was in the bathroom.

I could hear the water upstairs and I went up quietly. When I got the bathroom door I noticed that it was open just a little crack. I suppose that he did that so that he could hear the phone ringing. I could see my father moving on the other side of the shower curtain because I had a view that showed me the old-fashioned bathtub on feet.

Doctor, I should have just walked on. I shouldn't have looked in at all. But, there were all those times I had thought about seeing my father naked. There were all those things that were haunting me. I wanted a chance to see him naked. I knew that for a fact.

And so, I stayed near the door. I even crouched down on the floor and watched. I just wanted one glimpse of him naked and that would be enough for me.

The water was turned off. My heart seemed to be beating so loudly that I thought he would hear it. But, I was frozen to the spot. I couldn't move. It seemed to take forever that he was there behind the shower curtain. And then he pulled the curtain aside and I couldn't look away. I never described my father to you, did I?

He's a tall and handsome man with broad shoulders. He's blond and he has a blond beard and a lot of thick blond hair on his chest. When I saw him naked for that first time his penis was hanging down thick and long between his legs.

But, as soon as he had pulled the curtain aside he started to stroke on his penis. He was displaying it for me except he didn't know I was watching. I really wonder now, if he hadn't started to stroke it, whether I would have just left and not watched any longer.

But, that's all besides the point. I was fascinated by what I was seeing.

Doctor, my handsome father was masturbating. He sat on the edge of the tub and he kept on stroking up and down on his thick thing. While he was doing that I couldn't help myself. I reached up underneath my dress and I started to frig myself. I actually reached into one of the leg openings of my panties and I was stroking my fingers up against my cunt lips.

The two of us must have been like that for a long moment.

Perhaps five minutes passed. He was drying off as he sat on the edge of the tub with his fingers wrapped around his erection. And I was squatting in a terribly uncomfortable position.

I must have leaned against the door. That's it. I did lean against the door. I couldn't help myself. I pushed the door into the bathroom and fell across the floor.

And, Doctor, as if that weren't enough, my fingers were still inside the legs of my panties.

He went insane. My father had always been gentle with me before. Even though he was strict about the things I could do and the clothes I could wear, he had always been loving and gentle.

But, then he went completely insane and he landed on top of me and started to slam me around on the hard tile of the floor. He pulled my panties down and his penis was already hard and he pushed it into me. Oh, Doctor, he took my virginity.

After it was all over he left the house for a long time and didn't come home until the next day. I was worried, so worried. When he did come home he told me that he was going to send me to live with my aunt in another city because he didn't trust himself with me.

Doctor, I don't want to be parted from my father. It was one thing that happened and I blame myself for it. Okay, maybe I wasn't totally to blame. I was just looking at him and he went crazy about the whole thing. But, I don't want to leave him because of this.

He agreed to let me see you before sending me away. Tell my father not to send me.

CONCLUSION

The fact that the man wanted to send his daughter away indicates his sincere concern for her safety. This incident seems to be an unfortunate thing which happened in one unguarded moment when both of them lost their normally reserved control.

It will be necessary for both Elsie and her father to seek some short-term therapy so that they can deal honestly with their responses to this rape. And for the man to offer both the girl and himself some further outlets as far as their social lives are concerned.

They both seem like intelligent people who sincerely care about each other. In the case of any parent-child relationship that's half the battle right there. The other half of the battle, however, is understanding how to keep parental care from being harmful to a child.

When children, as in Elsie's case, do not have enough opportunity to mingle with their peers, they can develope unusually strong attachments and needs for their parents.

The hardest part of being a parent is giving your child the freedom to move away and grow on his or her own.

GENERAL CONCLUSION

There is more sexual abuse of children in the American home than anywhere else!

That's a terrifying fact and one that needs to be reckoned with by everyone-including church groups who defend the 'family' against any outside attack. The family unit is not a holy and a perfect thing. As more and more people, unprepared for the responsibilities of being parents, take on the role of parents this problem will grow worse and will not improve.

The scars on the lives of the young females whose stories are told in these pages cannot be erased. Some of their lives have been permanently damaged because of selfish passions! Every citizen must be on guard against such incestuous abuses! Young people must have outlets in their community to which they can turn in case of such abuses. Parents must be made accountable for their actions!

THE END
Cherry Busters-Pussy Hungry Daddies ....(70k)    by Unknown




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