Incest, long taboo in Western civilization, is much more common in today's world than it was in the days of ancient Egypt, when only the Pharaohs and the nobility had the right to cohabit with their close kin.
Men and boys today are taking by force, what tradition has denied them for so long: Then-daughters, sisters, and other close kin.
If there is one thing I have learned beyond all doubt during the years I have been practicing it is that incest is not merely common in America, but outright rampant. We in our society are almost constantly in a state of sexual stimulation. Because of this situation, the American, heterosexual male is not able to control or even limit his sexual desires according to the tradition, and now outdated, sexual precepts and standards of Western civilization.
But these very young ladies tell the story much better in their own words: Caroline: Age 16 - I had long known that my brother desired me but still I was shocked when he finally decided to force himself on me. And I was simply too weak to keep him from having his way with me.
Jennifer: Age 19 - My father had been saying that I must somehow pay for my expensive dancing lessons. And his idea of how I should pay was making me service him like a whore.
Suzie: Age 15 -- My father had met my mother when he was an advisor in Vietnam. To him, I had never been anything more than just a 'filthy Gook'. And then one day he raped me just as he had raped peasant women in Vietnamese villages.
Cindy: Age 16 -- When my parents were killed in a plane crash, grandfather said that he would be only to happy to take me in. But what he really meant was that he would be only too glad to get into me.
Lisa: Age 19 - The boyfriend I brought back from college to stay with us during Christmas vacation was black. After he left, father decided that if I was 'low' enough to give myself to a Black man then I was nothing more than a tramp to be raped and abused.
Elizabeth: Age 23 -- My father was lying in a hospital bed and he was dying. He asked me to give him one last night of satisfaction and I thought that since he was dying it wouldn't matter anyway. And I did want to see to it that my own father died happy. Christy: Age 17 -- When my brother came home to visit I begged him take me away with him on his travels. I didn't know that the price for allowing him to be my guide was to become his sex slave.
Laurie: Age 16 - My brother's gang asked if I wanted to go into the woods and smoke dope, but I figured that my brother would protect me. I didn't know that he would take the lead in destroying my virginity and then turn me over to his friends.
CASE HISTORY ONE
SUBJECT: Caroline AGE: Sixteen
INTERVIEW ONE
When Caroline came into my office I could not hazard a guess as to her problem. L myself had known Caroline when she was a little girl -her parents lived in my neighborhood - and she impressed me as being a remarkably staid and stable girl. The clothes which she was wearing reflected Caroline's calm personality. She was wearing a long, loose fitting, brownish flower print shift without sleeves which could hardly be described as provocative in any way. Her dark blond slightly curly hair was of medium length and was done up with style, not flair.
And yet, that dress could not hide the abundance of her breasts nor the marvelous curves of her slim body. Caroline was sexy despite her conservative dress -- or perhaps because of it. It's possible that Caroline tried too hard to hide her sexiness that she wound up exuding sexuality. Her appearance unwittingly begged men to pull off those covers of hers' and have their way with her.
Later I was to find out that this was one of the basic causes of her troubles.
But at that moment I had no idea what was wrong. The only thing I could tell from Caroline's face was that she was so upset and distraught that she was on the verge of panic. Obviously, she needed my help.
"Doctor Lamb," Caroline addressed me in a breathy voice, as she stood in the center of my office, "thank you for seeing me today on such short notice. I-I-I really don't know what I would have done if you hadn't agreed to see me. I really don't. If I don't tell somebody I'll go insane. I'm not kidding. I really will."
I pointed at the chair in front of my desk.
"Have a seat, Caroline," I suggested.
She sat down and looked at me with big, pleading, violet-grey eyes. Her eyes were wet as if she had just been crying or was just about to cry or both.
I leaned forward on my desk.
"Now, Caroline, please tell me what it is that's wrong."
She buried her face in her hands and instantly broke into tears.
"I cant!" She murmured. "I'm sorry, Doctor. I'm sorry for wasting your time. I know I said that I just had to speak to you. But now I can't speak to you. I better go. I'm sorry, Doctor Lamb, I'm really sorry."
"There's nothing to be sorry about, Caroline." I replied. "Obviously, whatever it is that's happened to you was very painful and it's also painful to describe it in words."
"But, I must describe it in words! Until I tell somebody, Doctor Lamb, it'll all be inside of me, eating away at me. So, what am I gonna' do? What am I gonna' do? I can't tell, but I have to tell. Please help me, Doctor Lamb. Please!"
"Caroline, you took the first step when you walked in here. And that took all of your energy. Now you don't have the strength to talk with. So what I feel you ought to do is just go home and get some rest. Then tomorrow you'll be ready for the second state. Then you'll tell me everything. How does that sound, Caroline?"
The girl nodded her head.
"Yes, Doctor, that sounds right. Yes, I'll do what you say. I'll go home and get some rest."
"Just go right to sleep, Caroline," I told her, "and as soon as you wake in the morning, come here. Ill be waiting for you."
Caroline stood up and looked right into my eyes as if she were attempting to judge whether I was good or evil.
"Thank you, Doctor Lamb," she said after a few moments. "I'll do what you say. I feel better already. I'll see you in the morning."
"See you in the morning, Caroline."
She left my office and closed the door on the way out.
INTERVIEW TWO
When Caroline walked into my office the next day she was more composed, but still .upset. She was wearing the exact same kind of dress as the previous day except that this one was bluish instead of brownish.
I gestured towards the chair in front of my desk and Caroline sat down.
"Good morning, Caroline," I said, "did you sleep well last night?"
"Yes, Doctor, thank you, I did". I feel a little better today."
"Good. Now, Caroline, please tell me what it is that's bothering you."
"Yes, but I don't know exactly how. I don't see how I can use the words that will exactly describe what happened. I can't speak of such things."
"I see. Well, let me ask you this - who else was involved in whatever it is that happened to you?"
Caroline became silent for several moments. But I could tell that she was not pondering the answer so much as gathering up the strength to release it.
And then she finally answered, "My brother."
She said it so curtly that I knew that her brother was somehow the cause of some deep distress to her.
"Did your brother do anything harmful to you, Caroline?"
The beautiful girl licked her lips and swallowed hard. Her eyes welled up with tears. She turned her face away from mine so that she was looking out the window and then she told me, "Doctor Lamb, my brother raped me. My brother Steve raped me. I know it must sound incredibly weird, but it's true."
Immediately I realized that I was dealing with something of major significance which had to be handled with great care. Any traumatic incident such as this could leave a girl with permanent psychological injuries which could ruin her for life.
"Tell me something," I said to Caroline, "how exactly did this come about? Did your brother simply attack you without any warning?"
"Yes. You see... " She was starting to slide into a state of withdrawal. I inquired, "Did your brother never give you any reason to think that he might rape you?"
"Well, Doctor Lamb, I guess that he did. But it's only looking back that I realize that he did. You see, I knew that my brother desired me. But I never thought he actually came after me in a sexual way."
"Caroline, you say that you always knew that your brother desired you. How did you know that?"
"Well, Doctor, there were a lot of different ways... " And then Caroline proceeded to describe the various steps which led up to the moment when her brother raped her.
* * *
As soon as my brother came back home from college after graduation I knew that things were not the same between us as when he had left. Before, we had been like friends. We used to wrestle a lot and go exploring all over the area.
But even though we had been friends, everything had not always been all that peaceful between us. My brother could be a very violent person and sometimes he would just explode for no reason and just beat me up. He would always see that he was sorry after and then we would be friends again. But then he would always wind up beating me up again. It went on like that until he finally left for college. And when he came back from college, Steve had not seen me for more than three years. He came home very rarely after his freshman year and whenever he did come for a visit I was off somewhere else. So I guess Steve didn't get to see me all during that time when I was, you know, developing. You know what I mean, Doctor Lamb. Four years ago my breasts were really small and my body was all different. As soon as Steve walked into the house the day he got back and saw me he looked at me the same way all the other horny boys at school do. I hate that kind of look but I really couldn't take it coming from my own brother. So I went upstairs right away after I had said hello to him.
But a few minutes later I heard a knock at the door.
"Come in," I said. The door opened up and Steve walked in. He shut the door.
"Hi, Caroline," he said. "I wanted to speak with you alone. You really weren't all that friendly downstairs."
He was leering at me and studying me as if he was looking right through my clothes. I'm not so ignorant that I couldn't tell what was On his mind.
"Well, Steve," I replied, "I was just kind of tired, that's all."
"You didn't even kiss me or anything. Come on, Caroline, you're still my sister, aren't you? You used to kiss me all the time."
I sighed.
"Well, alright."
I walked up to Steve and kissed him on the cheek.
"Hey, what was that?" He asked. "You call that a kiss? That's not how you used to kiss me."
And then he placed his hands of my shoulders, pulled me towards him, and kissed me on the lips. I tried to pull away but he just kept pressing his lips into mine, coating my lips with his hot saliva.
Finally he did let go of me. I took several steps away from him. I'm sure he could tell from my face that I was angry.
"Jesus, Caroline," he said, "what is it with you? You act like I'm some kind of stranger or something."
"Well, Steve, in a way you are a stranger.
I... "
"Ah, you just haven't seen me in a long time, that's all. Pretty soon well be friends again like in the old days. Remember how we used to wrestle all the time?"
"Steve, I think I'm too old for that now."
"Oh, bullshit. I'm a college graduate now but that doesn't mean that I'm too old to have a little fun."
Steve quickly moved towards me and then he grabbed me by the shoulders again. This time he started to pull me down to the floor.
"Steve," I pleaded, "don't. Come on."
But he just laughed. And then he pulled me down to the ground and placed his body on top of mine. I'm sure that he purposely squashed his big, muscular chest against my breasts.
And then I could feel his crotch grinding into my private area. There was a bulge inside of his crotch and I could feel it moving back and forth across my vulva. I knew that Steve was having an erection and that it could only mean one thing. And I knew that this just wasn't right between a brother and a sister.
"Steve," I said, "I think you better get off of me."
"How come? We used to do this all the time."
"It'slike I've been trying to tell you, Steve. I'm not a little girl anymore. I can't wrestle like this now. My body is... different now."
"Jesus, Caroline. I'm not blind or idiotic, you know. I can tell that you've changed. But what difference should that make between us? Your body doesn't mean anything to me. Except out of curiosity, maybe."
And then I felt Steve's hand upon my leg, underneath my skirt. He slid his hand up past my knee and continued to move his hand along my thigh towards my private region.
"Steve!" I loudly protested. "What are you doing!"
"Oh, don't make such a big deal out of it, Caroline. I just want to see if you got all hairy up there. Just out of curiosity."
His hand slid further and further up along the inside of my thigh until his fingers had just about reached the edge of my panties.
"Steve, if you don't get off of me right away I'm going to scream my head off! I mean it. Get off of me right away!"
"Alright, alright."
Steve pushed himself up on his knees and then stood up. He looked down at me.
"I don't know what's wrong with you, Caroline, I really don't. I didn't think that you would become neurotic." I got up and looked into Steve's eyes.
"I'm not neurotic," I told him. "It's just that" I've changed. You've got to understand that I'm not a little girl anymore that you can play with just like a toy. I'm a woman, now. Do you know what I'm saying?"
"Yeah, I understand. You're not mad at me, are you?"
"No, I guess not. I guess it was just a misunderstanding."
"Well, I'll be seeing you around, Caroline. I'll probably be living at home for a few months until I find a job and a place of my own. So well be able to do things together. Okay, Caroline?"
"Okay, Steve."
And then he left the room.
For the next few days I didn't see Steve much because he was out visiting all his old friends and girlfriends who were still around. To tell the truth, I was kind of glad about that. I still remembered Steve's violent tendencies. I wasn't pleased by the fact that he hadn't become violent after I had insisted he get off of me. I figured that he was just storing up all of his violence.
And then one day I was in my room dressing when I heard somebody come in downstairs. Nobody else was home except me. I had just put on my brassiere and I was getting ready to step into my panties when I heard footsteps coming up the stairs.
Suddenly, the door opened up - there was no lock -- and Steve was standing there. He was eyeing my body up and down and he carefully studied my legs and my private parts. I was petrified with shock.
"Holy fuck!" He loudly expressed. "You sure got one hell of a hairy twat. I can't believe that you're the sweet, little sister I left when I went to college. I just love blonds with big, thick brown bushes. And what legs! Nice and long and sleek the way I like 'em. There is nothing like a big bush perched on top of long legs."
I couldn't even speak. I could not believe that my own brother was speaking about me in this way. He moved towards me. And as he did he examined the crevice between my breasts.
"Caroline," he remarked,, "you are too much. You've got everything. You got the kind of tits that men stop on the street to stare at.
Finally I managed to speak out.
"St-St-Steve," I uttered, "y-you better get out of here. For God's sakes, I'm not dressed!"
"Oh, Caroline, don't freak out! I'm only commenting on the way you look, that's all."
"Steve! I'm naked! Please get out!"
"Caroline, your body . doesn't mean anything to me."
But he stood there hungrily gazing at my body and I could see the mound rising within the crotch of his jeans.
"Steve, please get out! For God's sakes, get out!"
There were tears streaming out of my eyes. But I was more outraged than frightened. At that moment, I wanted somebody to come into the room and beat up my brother.
And then we both heard' the car pull into the driveway. I looked at Steve to let him know that he had better get out now.
Steve scared at me.
"Jesus, Caroline," he remarked. "I really don't know what it is with you. I'm not a rapist you know."
"Just get out, Steve. Just get out right now."
He held up his palm.
"Alright, Caroline. Alright, I'm going."
And he did leave me alone. I ran to the door and quickly shut it.
That evening I told my father about what had happened. I expected him to get angry and immediately remonstrate with Steve, but instead he just acted as if I was making a big deal out of the whole thing for nothing.
He asked me if Steve had actually done anything to me and I had to admit that he had not. Then he just laughed and told me that I shouldn't worry about it. His attitude was that Steve was just fooling around with his kid sister and teasing her a bit and that I was taking it the wrong way.
It seems to me now that father was siding with Steve because they're both men and men always stick together in such things. Of course, I don't think that way about you, Doctor Lamb, otherwise I wouldn't be here. But that's the way it is with most men. They all think that women are for nothing else than having sex with. I kind of knew that before but now I know it for sure.
But at the time I thought that father was right. I decided that I had been overreacting to Steve and that there was really nothing to worry about.
And then there was the day before yesterday. I'll never forget what happened that day for as long as I live. It was like having a nightmare become real. It was horrible, Doctor Lamb, just horrible! I'd forgotten just how horrible it all was until this moment. I wanted to tell you about it so bad but now I just don't know if I can. I don't know what to do, Doctor Lamb! I just don't know what to do!... "
* * *
At this point I determined that the subject was in no condition to continue her story. I realized that she would have to be brought to the point of revealing the crucial incident in daily stages. So I decided to have her come back tomorrow.
But I could also tell that she was in a state of near mental collapse. Her nerves were completely frayed and her psyche was out of balance. I don't believe in drugs as a long-term solution but it was clear that she needed something to calm her down right now so that she would not go to pieces. She needed a good night's sleep so that she would be in the proper condition for continuing tomorrow.
So I wrote Caroline out a prescription for some tranquillizers and for some sleeping pills. I told her that she should once again get a good night's sleep and then return in the morning.
Caroline agreed and then she departed my office.
INTERVIEW THREE
The subject seemed to be in a much better state of mind when she entered my office the next morning. There was even a trace of a smile on her lovely, young face and her violet-grey eyes were completely dry.
Caroline seemed eager to begin telling her story again so I let her go on without delay. She spoke in a very unhalting and matter-of-fact manner as if she were actually talking about somebody else.
Once again it was time for me to just sit back and listen.
* * *
Once again, for several days - Caroline went on - I did not see Steve. He went away on a trip to the some island in the Caribbean. My father paid for the vacation and then he and mom decided that if Steve went to the Caribbean they should send themselves as well.
So as soon as Steve got back my parents left. My other brother was going to summer classes up in Ithaca and my younger sister was visiting my aunt in Pennsylvania. So Steve and I were all alone in the house.
But for the next two days, Steve was rarely in the house. We only ate one meal together -a breakfast - and we didn't talk very much then. So I didn't think much about Steve at all.
And then three days ago, I came home about eight o'clock from a baseball game. I play for the girl's league of the church. The same team your daughter is on, Doctor Lamb.
Anyway, I was really dirty and sweaty so as soon as I got home I took a shower. The shower felt really good and I washed my hair twice to get out all the grease. And I used hair conditioner because my hair was all messed up. I'm only telling you that because I want you to know exactly how things were.
I dried off my body and then I decided to get out of the bathroom because it was all hot and steamy in there. I took a towel to dry my hair off and then I opened the door and walked out into my bedroom. As I moved towards the bed I was drying my hair with the towel.
And then I saw him standing there. It was my brother. He had his shirt off and his big hairy chest made him look like a hulking animal. He even had his hands held out in front of him like claws. And there was a really mean grin on his face.
I knew from what I saw in his eyes what he wanted. There was no doubt about it. He wasn't playing any games anymore. And he wasn't going to stop himself from getting what he wanted from me. He slowly studied my body from the top of my head to my toes. I was dripping a little with water from the shower and I got the feeling that this excited him. As he stripped, Steve didn't say a word. He just unbuckled his belt as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do. He kicked off his sneakers, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, and then took them off.
Then he slid his underpants down to his ankles and stepped out of them.
I was astounded by what I saw. Up to then I had only seen pictures of men's... things in books in sex education class. But none of those -- well, penises, doctor, had ever been as big as Steve's. Or as hairy. His penis came out from his belly for about a foot and it seemed thicker than was possible for a human being. And he was hairy all over. There was black hair on his belly in a big clump and long hairs on his - on his balls, doctor, and even hair on the bottom part of the long pole between his legs. He was like an animal.
And his penis kept bobbing about all over the place as if it was a living thing. The end of his penis was even thicker than the rest of his thing and it was red like a piece of charcoal.
I didn't want to believe that he was about to stick that thing of his in me but I knew that he was going to. There was just no way that I could stop him.
As he started to move towards me I didn't even bother to beg or plead. What was the use? And if I screamed he would just find a way to shut me up.
Steve placed his huge, sweaty, rough skinned hands over my breasts and squeezed them so hard that it was painful. He rolled my nipples between the thumb and forefinger of each of his hands and then he moved his hands down along my body and along my tummy until he reached my pubic hairs. He moved his fingertips around in a circular motion through the hairs and then he pulled at them as if he was trying to tear them off. Finally, he moved his finger down to the entrance to my cunt, pried my labia apart, and shoved his finger into my vagina. I felt his finger squeeze through and I felt it when he poked his fingertip against my hymen.
"So," he commented, "you are a virgin. That'll be messy, but it'll also be nice."
Those were the last words he spoke. He stepped forward until the really hard tip of his penis poked into my pubic bush and then he grabbed my shoulders and forced me down on the bed. He placed his hands over my flattened breasts so that my nipples stuck into the skin of his palms and then he gritted his teeth and thrust his hips forward.
His penis battered against the opening to my vagina but it was just to small for him to get his penis in. But instead of giving up, my brother pulled his hips back and lunged forward once more. He just kept pushing and twisting his penis into my vagina.
It felt as though a hot, meaty rod was being shoved up between my legs. The flesh inside of my vagina was peeled apart and it was just as painful as if somebody had cut through my stomach with a knife. This time I screamed but Steve just placed his hand over my mouth and kept pushing his penis deeper and deeper into me.
When he smashed through my hymen it felt as if my intestines had been ripped apart. The pain was so bad that I couldn't even make a sound. Steve just plunged and tore his way my tender vaginal cavity until his belly was pressing against my swollen, aching labia and his huge, hairy testicles were slapping against my behind. I could feel the skin of his penis pulsating against the inside of my vagina. My insides were burning and being stretched apart like some kind of torture. Steve's hairy chest was scraping against the soft skin of my breasts and his hairy belly was grinding into my own pubic bush.
He pulled his penis out from between my legs and I felt a hot wetness pour through my vagina and spill out of my slit. Then. he slammed his thing back into me and just kept pulling it out and pushing his penis back into my slit over and over again. Every time he did this I could feel the skin of his penis scrape along the flesh of my vagina.
But as he kept on pumping away something strange began to happen. I couldn't help becoming aware of my brother's manliness. It seemed very natural to have a great, big hairy man on top of me like this. At that moment, it seemed that this is what my body was for but I had never known it up until now. I felt as if it was right to have my hole filled up like this. As though I myself were really being filled up for the first time.
The pain that I had first experienced started to fade away and instead there was this really enjoyable tingling feeling inside of my vagina and all along the insides of my thighs. And the tingling started to spread throughout my entire body. Since there was no way I could stop Steve from doing what he was doing I thought I might as well just go along with the pleasure. And the tingling just kept building and building and my vagina kept become hotter and hotter. This strange but very pleasurable wave of release passed through me and a wonderful, hot, liquidy sensation traveled along the walls of my vaginal I started exerting myself, trying to make the liquid flow faster in order to build up the pleasure.
Then suddenly, Steve snorted like some kind of wild dog or something and he heaved his belly down hard against my tummy and his body froze with his penis stuffed all the way inside of me. I could feel his penis twitch all over inside of me and then I felt hot sticky fluid come flying out of his cock and splattering all over my insides. Steve's sticky stuff mixed with the liquid that was already dripping down along my vagina and soon I was all soaked inside.
My brother started to - oh, I might as well say it now - he started to fuck me again and this time there was a really loud sort of squishy sound. I could feel all the liquid inside being pumped out of me and as Steve's penis moved in and out the pressure of his cock was getting me hotter and hotter. The tingling sensation that was now everywhere in my body became like tiny flames. I was burning, Doctor, that's how it was. And the burning was delightful. I guess that I was reaching ecstasy. There's no other word for it. It was what I used to read about in the old novels like D.H. Lawrence and Joyce.
And then my brother let out this really long growl and his body became still. He sighed and then he pulled his cock out of me. I wrapped my arms around his back and tired to pull him back in but he just pulled away and stood up.
* * *
Caroline paused for several moments and looked at me with an expression of complete horror. So intense was her expression that I myself could feel her horror. I sat up straight and waited for her to speak.
"Doctor!" She shouted. "It's not that my brother raped me that bothers me. I could handle that. But, Doctor, I enjoyed it! I wanted it to go on! I'm mad at my brother mostly because he stopped when he was finished. But I wasn't finished, Doctor. I wasn't finished!"
And she just kept staring at me with that horrified expression.
CONCLUSION
It was clear to me that Caroline was not so much from shock from her brother's act of rape, but from intense guilt feelings because she had enjoyed the sexual experience. If her initial sexual encounter had taken place under different circumstance, she most probably would have been able to handle her feelings.
I recommended that Caroline attend, to begin with, and all female encounter group during which she could listen to other young girl's recount their sexual adventures. I wanted Caroline to learn that it was alright to enjoy sex and that the fact that it had been her brother who had de-virginized her did not really make a difference as far as her feelings were concerned.
During the time she attended the encounter group, I continued to counsel her and to make her see that her own feelings should be viewed as being distinct and separate from her brother's violent actions.
Caroline had just recently concluded her all-female encounter session and I have scheduled her to attend a mixed encounter session. In this way, I hope that she will begin to adjust to men once again. I want her to hear men talk about sexual matters. I want her to develop a healthy attitude once again towards sex.
But, in all honesty, I cannot help feeling that she may never fully adjust to her experience with her brother. She may never completely rid herself of the guilt feelings arising from that violent and incestuous initial sexual encounter.
CASE HISTORY TWO
SUBJECT: Jennifer M. AGE: Nineteen
INTERVIEW ONE
As soon as Jennifer walked into my office I the impression that her behaviour was very affected. It was as if she were putting on a show and she perceived the entire world as being her audience. The implication was that she was in her own world which she assumed was better than any other world.
She moved across the room like a dancer moving across the stage and then she twirled her body half around and floated down into the chair. She reached over and touched me on the wrist and then she sat back in her chair and peered right into my own very beautiful hazel eyes. As she talked she constantly narrowed her eyes and weaved her left hand through the air. After watching how she moved I was not surprised to find out that she was indeed a dancer. In particular, I found out, she aspired to became proficient in a form of modern dance which is conducted without music. It seemed to me that her life consisted of this unaccompanied form of dancing, not only in movement, but also in her manner of speaking.
Jennifer definitely possessed the quintessential dancer's body. She was tall and very slender and her long legs were just a trace away from being skinny. Her breasts, however, were somewhat larger than one usually expects to see upon a dancer's body. Her hair was red but there was an earthy, brownish quality to her hair which kept the color from being too red. I couldn't help the feeling that the fact that she had red hair fit in with her whole affected and frankly, flighty personality. Yes, psychiatrists do not always describe individuals only in objective and technical terms.
I have studied under Karl Jung both in America and in Vienna and I have conversed and argued with some of the greatest men in the field of psychiatry of our time. But still, I will not disregard my grandfather's simple adage that 'all redheads are crazy', even though most of my colleagues would grimace at the mention of such a vague word as 'crazy'.
As she began talking, I could not help myself from hypothesizing that Jennifer was to a considerable degree removed from the world around her. This, I suspect, was one of the chief causes of the incestuous episode which she proceeded to relate to me.
* * *
I'm originally from Toronto, Canada, Jennifer began, and I studied Modern Dance at the University of Toronto. Upon graduating, I attended a very exclusive, and very expensive dance school and I danced in various non-paying performances both in the city and in various places in the Province of Ontario. My father, a very successful engineer, paid for all of my schooling as well as paying to support me. He was spending a great deal of money on me but I thought that he didn't mind this because I was his only daughter I have two older brothers - and he knew that dancing was my whole life. And I also believed that since my mother had died and both of my brothers were financially successful he didn't really have anyone to spend his money on anyway.
But, in December, my father informed me that he would no longer pay for my apartment in Yorktown, claiming that he couldn't really afford to. I would either have to find a paying job or move back into the house. Since there would not be enough time for me to go to school and do my performances and work at the same time I decided to move back into the house.
I didn't think that it would be too bad. The house was very large and my father and I would be the only ones living there. My room was downstairs at the back and there was a downstairs entrance. There was even a small kitchen downstairs so it seemed to be that I would be able to live a totally separate life from my father.
That was to turn out to be a completely wrong assumption.
But I didn't realize that until about a month after I lived in my father's house. For that first month I was hardly at home anyway, and my father was in Saudi Arabia for the last two weeks of the month. I think I saw him for a total of perhaps two hours in all of December.
When I was not dancing I would usually just sit by the window staring out across our back lawn at the houses and the street on the other side. When I would stare out that window I would be completely aware of the images in front of me and yet oblivious to the world in which those images existed. I was seeing the world, but it was not really the world around me which I was seeing. In my mind, I had transported the images of this world into another world. The only word I could use to describe this other world is 'nowhere'. That is the world in which dancers dance. But perhaps I could never make you understand that.
In any case, my face at that window must have become a well known image to the outside world. I say that because one day I had to read a book about dance steps when I came home so I was not at the window. As I was lying in my bed I heard some children cry out, 'Look, Jennifer isn't at her window'. That made me feel rather strange but even so, the next day I was at my window again.
I felt that I simply could not allow the outside world to have any great affect on me. Dancers must remain removed from this world. Again, that's something which I don't know if you can understand.
And it was that same day that my father came home. I hadn't even known that he had returned until I heard a knocking at my door.
"Come in," I said.
The door opened and father stepped into the room. He looked different than he had ever looked before. First of all, he had not shaved in two weeks. But there was more to it than that. There appeared to be a definite glint of madness in his eyes. As a dancer, such glints are immediately obvious to me.
"Hello, Jennifer," father greeted me.
"Hello, father,"-I replied, "how was Saudi Arabia?"
"Oh, terrible. Hot and uncivilized. All the women are covered up. And the ones who are not covered up have to make sure to behave with restraint because they have to prove that they're not tramps. It's disgusting. There was no way for me to get laid over there."
Frankly, Doctor, I was shocked and dismayed. I had never heard my father speak like that before. I was amused but also concerned because I didn't know what to make of it."
"What are you doing, Jennifer?" Father inquired. "Still sitting by that god-damn window? Yeah, I know about that. The whole fucking neighborhood knows about it."
"Um, father, you seem to be quite hostile. Is there any particular reason for that?"
"You bet there is!"
He came closer to me. I was now standing between the window and the end of my bed.
"Ill tell you what's wrong, Jennifer," father went on. "You're totally useless and pathetic, that's what's wrong! I have to shell out a small fortune for you to take dancing lessons. But what's it all going to add up to? Nothing, that's what! You'll never be a dancer. You'll never be anything. And when you're not dancing you just sit by this window like a sack of potatoes staring out the window. Do you realize that you don't provide pleasure for anybody? Nobody goes to your stupid dance performances and you don't go out with men. You don't even give yourself pleasure. I don't think you really enjoy dancing, do you Jennifer? Huh?"
"Father, I'm not going to talk to you when you're in this condition."
"Oh, so you're not going to talk to me, huh? But you'll take my money, won't you? And live in my house."
"Would you like me to move out?"
"No, Jennifer. I just want you to pay for your room and board. And I want you to pay for your dance lessons. Everybody else had to pay for what they get in life, so why not you. What the fuck makes you so special, Jennifer?"
"Because I'm a dancer, father. I thought you understood that."
"Oh, dancer my ass. You can call yourself a dancer. And I can call myself the King of Siam. if I go over to Thailand start ordering people around not too many people are going to listen."
"Father, that's not fair. It takes a while to actually become a successful dancer. I mean, in monetary terms. I'm already successful in the sense of learning more about dancing and about... "
"Oh, bullshit!" He shouted right into my face. "You play while others work. That's what your dancing is. It's just play. You disgust me, Jennifer, you really do. You're nothing more than a pathetic piece of shit."
"Father, I can't believe you're talking to me this way."
"I'm talking to you like this because I want you to wake up. How long are you going to stay in that dream world of yours?"
I must admit, Doctor, that at this point I felt completely pulverized by my father's words. I felt that I was indeed just what he said, 'A pathetic piece of shit'. I felt lower than I had ever thought possible. I no longer possessed any will power or even any sense of my own self. My father's words had completely destroyed me.
And then father suddenly placed his hands over the crotch of my jeans and began to rub and squeeze my vulva. He moved his right hand up to my right breast and massaged my breast through the cup of my brassiere.
"There is a way for you to redeem yourself," he said softly.
"Father, you can't... "
"Shut up," he quietly, but firmly ordered me. "Just shut up. Why don't you use your mouth for a valuable purpose for once?"
Father worked his index finger between my lips and between my teeth and into my mouth. He played with my tongue and then he pulled out his finger and kissed me hard on my lips.
I was too shocked to react in any way. And a moment later, father's big, hot, wet tongue was inside my mouth, licking away at my tongue, my teeth, my palate, and my gums and soaking my mouth with his saliva. He moved his face way from mine and looked right into my eyes while he stroked my hair. Then he placed his hands on top of my head and forced me down to my knees.
"Unbuckle my pants," he ordered.
My hands were trembling as I reached for his belt buckle and I had trouble doing it.
"Jesus," father remarked, "can't you do anything right? Here, let me do that."
Father unbuckled his belt and then he unbuttoned his pants. As he started to pull down his zipper I could see the quivering bulge within the crotch of his white underpants.
As soon as father had pushed his pants down to his ankles, his huge tube of stiffened meat protruded out of the piss slot of his underpants. His cock was amazingly long and it was so engorged with blood that except for the protruding blue veins it was colored a deep crimson.
Father took my hands and placed my fingers upon his fully erect shaft. I gently stroked the stretched skin and I felt his cock twitch erratically in response. "Suck on it, Jennifer," he instructed me. "It's real. Taste it. Eat it. Drink from it. Go ahead, you pathetic pig. Suck on it until I come in your mouth."
For a second I thought of pulling away, getting to my feet, and leaving the house. But, where would I go? It wasn't just that I didn't have a physical location in the world to go to. I was lost mentally as well.
In any case, I didn't get to make a decision. Father grabbed the back of my head and pulled my face towards his extended member until the fist like head of his cock probed between my lips. He battered his hardened penis against my lips until I parted my lips and then he battered his erection against my teeth. I opened my teeth and father worked his cock into my mouth.
He slid his penis along the surface of my tongue and just kept pushing his prick further and further into my mouth until he was forcing his raging cock head right down into my throat. I started to gag and choke but then I started breathing rapidly and I managed to control myself. Being a dancer, body control and breath control are something in which I excel.
At last, father had stuffed his organ so far down my throat that completely inserted his penis into my f; face was buried in his pubic bush and n was squashed against his belly. My c pressing into the crevice between his greasy testicles.
I just remained perfectly still and the salty, masculine taste of his meat, wonderful the way his masculinity com filled my mouth. His cock was so stuffed into my face that his shaft was p out my cheeks.
"Come on, suck, Jennifer," commanded. "Put some effort into it once, give somebody else pleasure."
At that moment, I completely went I started sliding my lips up and down along length of his pipe, applying all the power to his member I could muster... as if I were trying to suck his come from right his balls. I knew that I was doing a good stimulating my father because I could hear moaning and groaning, louder and louder. I continued suck away. And as I sucked his huge cock, he thrust his hips back forth and slowly, but quite forcibly in my face.
Suddenly, my father emitted a she intensely passionate shriek and he penis flailed within my mouth. As he shot his awesome load of boiling, sticky gism into my mouth I sucked even more I gently squeezed and massaged his huge, hairy testicles to get out every drop of his load. Father growled in a very guttural manner and just kept pumping his cock in and out between my tightened lips, blasting his final droplets of scum into my face.
At last, father sighed heavily and his penis began to go limp. I sucked for a while longer until I had cleaned his tubular shaft of all scummy residue and then I pulled my face away from him until his cock dropped out from between his lips. I collected the gunky saliva within my mouth, swallowed hard, and then looked up at him. "You begin to earn your keep." father informed me. "But let me stress that you only begin. For now on, you'll have to earn your keep every day. What I'm telling you Jennifer, is that you are no longer just my daughter. For now on, you are my personal whore. I'll expect services in kind for every penny I spend on you. Do you understand me, whore?"
I nodded my head.
* * *
I was obliged to stop Jennifer here. I didn't want to be insensitive but I can only allow each patient a limited amount of my time. Thanks to the waves of neuroses, perversions, and psychosis that have swept through our modern society I have more individuals trying to become my patient than I could ever possibly handle. In order to be fair to those individuals who already are my patients, I must ration out my time.
Jennifer agreed to return in two weeks.
INTERVIEW TWO
The next time I saw Jennifer her whole personality seemed to have undergone a major change. No longer was she Jennifer, the performer, the self-perceived center of her own world. She was now a truncated, and denigrated human being.
She was firmly set within the world but she was missing her vitality and, most of all, her aura of au Father, Jennifer explained, treats me exactly as he would a prostitute. At least he treats me like a high-class prostitute. Things could be worse. He might treat me as nothing more than a common streetwalker.
The difference, Doctor Lamb, lies in the compensation one receives for one's services. For example, if father spends one-hundred dollars on dance lessons for me he expects a hundred dollars worth of sexual services in return.
According to father, if I were a common streetwalker that would add up to either five blow-jobs or three fucks and a hand-job. But since he rates me a high-class prostitute he figures that one-hundred dollars is worth either two blow-jobs or one fuck.
It's not surprising that my father should be so precise and technical about such things. After all, he is an engineer and his occupation is his life and the other way around.
Anyway, Doctor, the other day our relationship reached its most perverse limits Since I last saw you I found out that I have been accepted a very exclusive and world famous dancing school in New York. Along with the letter of acceptance came a book listing the tuition costs, as well as other information. According to this booklet, tuition for the first semester alone will be three-thousand dollars.
When I showed the booklet to father he read it and then just looked up and nodded his head.
"Three-thousand dollars," he murmured. "And you're not going to even be here next month if you go. Not to mention that I'm going to have to pay for an apartment for you in New York. How the hell are you going to be able to provide three-thousand dollars worth of services in the next month?"
Father pondered for several seconds.
And then he said, "I've got a lot of friends in New York. Plenty of guys I went to school with at M.I.T. are living there. I think what I'll do is set you up as a prostitute and turn all my friends on to you. They're all big time engineers and they're loaded. You'll have no trouble working off the money you owe me."
Father reached out for the top of my jeans and unbuttoned them. He pulled the zipper down about half way and then he tugged my pants and my panties downwards until the top edge of my reddish-brown pubic bush was exposed. He ran his fingertip along the hairy edge and then he slid his fingers beneath the top of my jeans and through my clump of pubic strands until he found the mouth of my cunt. He cupped his hand over my bush and inserted his finger into my vaginal cavity.
"In the meantime," father went on, "you'll continue to service me. I plan on getting a lot of fucking and sucking out of you while you're still here."
Father pulled out his hand and then pulled my zipper down all the way. He tugged my pants and panties over my hips and pushed them down to my ankles. Then he pried my cunt lips apart with the thumb and forefinger of his left hand and shoved the two longest fingers of his other hand into my pussy. The friction from his fingers soon spread erotic heat throughout my snatch and my vaginal juices drained down along his fingers and out of the mouth of my cunt and onto his hand. As he kept on finger fucking me, more and more steaming cream oozed out between my swollen cunt lips.
While he went on finger fucking me with his right hand, father undid his pants with his other hand and began tugging them down over his hips. I could plainly see from the gyrating lump within the crotch of his pants that he was very excited.
"Help me get my pants down, whore!" Father demanded. "Don't just sit there. You'll never earn money if you don't learn how to service men properly."
I helped father to get his pants down and then I inserted my fingernails beneath the elastic band of his underpants and pulled the while garment down along his erect staff. When the band moved past the tip of his cock father's meaty penis sprung up into the air and bobbed all about. I grasped the base of his cock with my hand, held it steady, and began to stroking the stretched skin.
Father placed his hands on my shoulders and forced me down into a chair. I spread my legs and he dragged the tip of his cock down through my clump of reddish brown hairs until his immense cock head slipped into my gaping, dripping pussy slit. Then he shoved his long, thick instrument into my cunt and plunged deeper and deeper until his organ was completely inserted within my vaginal cavity. He ground his vast jungle of rough pubic strands into my own mat of hairs and his balls slapped very hard against my pussy lips.
Immediately, father began rapidly and furiously humping me, drawing his cock out of my tight hole until only the tip of his member remained and then plunging his huge tube of meat into me until he had completely filled my vaginal cavity and not a single bit of his staff remained visible. He humped me over and over again until at I felt his penis flail wildly within my snatch, banging and scraping against the walls of my womb like a jackhammer. Father growled like an angry bear and I felt his bursts of hot come splatter against the insides of my cunt. He kept humping me until he had ejaculated every bit of his fiery load into my slippery snatch.
As soon as he was satiated, father pulled his cock out from between my thighs and looked down at my face.
"You know," he remarked, "it's a waste for you to spend the money you make on dancing lessons. I think you should just go down to New York and be a whore. In fact, I insist upon it. That's you place in life, Jennifer, to be a whore. That dancing you do is just a lot of crap."
I nodded my head. Incredible though it may seem, Doctor Lamb, at that moment I decided to just give up my dancing career and become a prostitute in New York City with my father as my pimp. I don't know why, but I just could not refuse his wishes. I simply had no resistance within me.
Tell me something, Doctor, is this insanity or what? Should I accede to my father's perverted plans so easily? What's going to happen to me, doctor? Please tell me that.
CONCLUSION
Jennifer M. is clearly suffering from a form of Anal-Compulsive Complex with a strong paternal obsessiveness. Due to improper toilet training, she had retreated from a world which unconsciously seems filthy and dirty to her. Her need to become a dancer is subliminally her need to learn proper toilet technique, the dancing movements are for her the movements of sitting down on the toilet and moving ones bowels.
But what she has needed even more is a strong paternal figure to take over her life.
Subliminally speaking, she wants her father to instruct her in toilet training as he never did when she was a child. Perhaps Jennifer's mother dominated her life at that stage to the exclusion of the paternal force. Now that the mother is dead, the cruel father has decided to re-assert his paternal force.
I cannot advise Jennifer against acceding to her father's wishes since it is possible that it is the presence of this paternal force at this stage in her life which she most requires in order to bring her out of her quasi-psychotic withdrawal phase. She must somehow be brought back into the world and if it takes the shock effect of being a prostitute while her own father pimps for her then so be it.
That may seem like a bizarre solution but then these are bizarre times we live in. Mild, humane, and standard psychiatric treatments do not seem to work any longer, at least not in desperate cases such as Jennifer's.
CASE HISTORY THREE
SUBJECT: SUZIE W. AGE: Fifteen
INTERVIEW ONE
As soon as the slim, pretty, Oriental girl into my office she looked around furtively as though she thought that something or someone might jump out from behind the furniture of the curtains and attack her. It took me about a whole minute to coax the girl to sit down and I was obliged to talk with her about menial things until at last she relaxed enough to begin telling me what was her trouble.
I must confess that I found her story to be particularly tragic and pitiful. Her story reflected the sickness of our American way of life more than any other I have ever heard.
Or ever wish to hear.
* * *
My father, Doctor Lamb, met my mother over in Vietnam in '64. He was a marine and had joined the American Army when he was only seventeen and he had been a military advisor to the South Vietnamese Army since 1962. In 1964 he was assigned to one of the first American Army unit to be assigned to offensive combat.
Actually, Doctor Lamb, to say that my father 'met' my mother in Vietnam is so dubious as to be absurd. What happened, Doctor Lamb, is that my father's company came into a small village in the Mekong Delta where my mother was living. This was the village where she had been born and where she had lived all of her life. The American soldiers searched the whole village and they did not find any Viet Cong nor any weapons of any kind. And yet, they were certain that the villagers were V.C. sympathizers who had been providing shelter, provisions, and young men for the V.C. One of the reasons they believed this was that there were no young men around. The American captain claimed that they were all with the Vietcong. My mother tried to explain to the captain in French that all the young men had been taken away to fight with the South Vietnamese Army but he didn't speak French and he didn't want to listen anyway. He and his men were angry, frustrated, and homy and they were beyond all rationality.
The captain ordered all the young women to gather in the center of the village and then he and his men picked out the most attractive ones. Then the American soldiers proceeded to rape and abuse the screaming, protesting women. Those that resisted too much were beaten into submission.
Because my father was a first Lieutenant he got to pick out one of the prettiest women and to have her all to himself. He chose my mother and he took her into an empty hut and raped her repeatedly, as well as forcing her to commit fellation upon him and even to lick out his ass.
This was when I was conceived, Doctor Lamb. And if you are wondering about how I know all of this it is because my mother told me. She said that she wasn't sure that she should tell me but that she decided that I ought to know the truth. If I had any reason to doubt her version of the truth when she first told it to me I do not doubt it now. Not after what my father did to me. But before I tell you about that, let me continue telling you what my mother told me.
After that day, she became pregnant. My father was stationed in a fortified mili camp nearby and he had occasion to return to that village several times. When he realized that my mother was pregnant with his child he felt as much guilt and remorse and an American is capable of feeling. And, in a typical American fashion, he tried to assuage that guilt and remorse in a materialistic fashion. He came to the village as often as he was able and he brought my mother food and clothes and various other luxuries. And when it was time for my mother to deliver he saw to it that she was admitted to the American Military Hospital in Saigon. And afterwards, he rented a nice apartment in Saigon for my mother and I. He would come there often to visit and to bring money and gifts.
Finally, just before my father was scheduled to leave Vietnam, he decided to marry her. He didn't really love her, it was only his guilt which caused him to make that decision. My mother knew this but still the idea of being able to leave Vietnam and go to America induced her to accept his proposal. She obtained the necessary permission and they were married by an army chaplain in Saigon. Two weeks later they left Vietnam and returned to Saint Louis, my father's hometown. He attended law school there and upon graduating he was offered a position with a prestigious New York law firm, which he accepted. Our family moved to New York and we have lived here ever since.
According to my mother, almost as soon as my father came back to Saint Louis he regretted marrying her. He started looking around at the American women and he greatly coveted them. My mother to him was nothing more than a filthy Good that he would just love to dump so that he could marry a blond, blue eyed, fair skinned American girl. But, once again, his guilt would not allow him to divorce my mother.
But his guilt did not prevent him from fucking around with as many American chicks as he could get his hands on. My father is a big, handsome man and it was no problem for him to get his hands of as many as he wanted. My mother tells me that he has fucked about one-hundred other girls since they returned to America and I believe that. I myself, since I became old enough to be aware, have realized that my father was often gone from home for a whole evening or for several days or even for weeks. And he has even brought his girlfriends to our apartment when my mother has been out working or shopping or visiting friends. I tried to remain oblivious to what was going on or at least not think about it. Only since the incident with my father a week ago have I been forced to accept the reality of my father's infidelity. As for the relationship between my father and myself, until last week it was not so bad, but it was no so good either. My father, at least when I was very young, would often play with me and take me places. But he was never able to show any real emotion for me and I have always known that his sentimental gestures were basically just perfunctory As an outsider to your culture, I know how such behaviour is very American. I seriously believe that in many ways you Americans are nothing more than robots. You put very little feeling into most of the things you do, though you often pretend that you do feel. Most of you are just pretending, that is my opinion. You do what you think you should do. You're afraid to admit to yourselves and to others that you don't really feel much at all.
You see, Doctor Lamb, even though I was raised here in America I call myself an outsider because my mother brought me up to have an Asiatic value system and an Asiatic outlet. Since my father did not care much about me he did not have much of an influence of my upbringing.
And in recent years he has not bothered with me much at all. In the last two years he has hardly come home much but has been out whoring around with his American girlfriends. And when he has been home, he has spent most of his time getting and being obnoxiously intoxicated. He started yelling at my mother more and more and occasionally he would even beat her. I managed to avoid this sort of treatment simply by staying out of his way. In the last year we have barely spoken to each other or even seen each other. And that was just fine with me.
But last week, father came home unexpectantly in the middle of the afternoon. My mother was away at her job. she works as a sales lady at a Vietnamese gift shop not so much because we need the money but because she needs something to keep her busy. When he walked into the apartment I heard him violently slam the door shut and then pound his feet as he walked towards his bedroom. I could tell that he was already quite drunk. When he walked into his bedroom I hoped he would just pass out but a few moments later I heard him approaching my bedroom. There is a separate entrance I use and my room is in the rear of our duplex apartment. So there could be no reason why fat would be approaching my bedroom except that he specifically wanted to see me But, for what? I wondered.
I was lying in my bed reading a new novel I had just bought called 'Crystal Lines' when father pushed open my bedroom door. He had removed his tie and his jacket. His face was all red and his eyes were puffy. And he was swaying gently from side to side.
"Hello, Suzie," he greeted me, "I haven't seen my precious daughter in quite a long time."
I didn't respond. I just smiled at him as best as I was able.
"What are you reading there, Suzie?"
I held the book up for him to see.
"Crystal Lines,'" I replied. "It's a brand new novel that just came out"
"What's it about?"
"Well, it's about all these individuals who are connected. And they don't find out until the end that the' reason they are all connected is that... " Father stopped me with a wave of his hand.
"I don't want to hear about it," he informed me in a drunken voice. "The only way that people are connected is that we all happen to be on the same fucking planet."
I shrugged my shoulders. Father pointed his finger at me.
"Hey, don't do that!" He shouted.
"Do what?" I asked him. "Give me that look of disdain."
"But I didn't... "
"Don't tell me! Who the fuck do you think you are anyway to look down on me! Don't you know what you are? You're nothing but a fucking half-breed. A mutant. There's nobody lower than you in the whole world."
"Father, don't say things like that!" I pleaded. "I'm your own daughter. Your only child. You should respect... "
"I respect nothing! Especially not you. Do you know how you came to exist? Well, I'll tell you. I threw your mother down on packed dirty floor, placed my hand over her mouth, and raped the shit out of her. I just pumped her full of come until one of my sperm hit her egg. And that's how you were born. What do you think of yourself now, you stinking, little bastard!"
"Father, you must be losing your mind."
He walked along the side of the bed and pointed his index finger right into my face.
"You just watch your filthy mouth!" He admonished me through gritted teeth. "Just because you're half American doesn't change what you really are. You're just a god-damn filthy, little Gook bitch! You're not fit for anything but to live in shit and be fucked like a dog. I never should have set you and your fucking mother up in a nice place like this. You're not fit to be here. I should have you out in a hut in the woods."
I wanted very much to cry but I managed to restrain my tears as well as my voice.
"Father," I calmly said, "get out of my room. Just get out of my room at once."
"Your room!" Father shrieked. "You stinking, Gook piece of shit! None of this is yours. You have no right to any of this. You're not an American. I saw buddies of mine get their guts blown away for you fucking Gooks. And you want to take what they should have now? There's no way that you deserve that. The only thing you Gook whores are good for is to be thrown down on the ground and fucked like pigs. That's what I should do to you. Rape the shit out of you and then make you suck my dick just like I did your fucking mother!"
Now I did start crying. I could not help myself. And I started to cry more and more tears until I was sobbing uncontrollably.
"Oh, don't pull that trick on me, little girl. I don't fall for the crying bullshit. I've seen buddies of mine walk across a field to help some crying Gook bitch only to see them get blown up by a Claymore mine. The crying Gook was a decoy. So, don't try to pull that shit on me. Do you understand.
But I just couldn't stop crying. I'm sure you can understand why under the circumstances.
"I said knock it off!" Father shouted.
And then he suddenly lashed out with his right hand, grabbed the front of my blouse, and pulled it apart. Next, he reached down between my breasts, and ripped apart the front of my brassiere.
Father's face was grinning menacingly as he studied my naked breasts.
"You know," he said, "you've got pretty big tits for a Gook. But then you're American. I guess you get your tits from my side of the family.
He cupped his hands over my breasts and rubbed his hands up and down, squeezing my nipples between his fingers. Then he massaged my breasts in a circular motion and pressed down hard. My breasts were squashed against my chest and I could feel my nipples digging into the skin of his palms.
He took his hands away from my chest and unbuckled his belt. Then he undid his pants and pulled his pants and his underpants down past his knees. His monstrous penis was already fully erect and the great, meaty rod was swaying from side to side.
Father pointed at his throbbing cock head "This is all the food a Gook whore needs," He informed me. "Chomp on this, you little, fucking pig!"
He lowered his knees onto the bed and jammed his huge cock hand between my lips until the hard, salty meat pressed against my teeth. At that moment I seriously thought of opening my mouth and then biting his cock right off.
But as if he had read my mind, father pulled a switchblade knife out from his pants pocket, opened it, and pressed the sharp tip of the blade against my Adam's apple.
"Oh, you little Gook cunt," he said. "I know how vicious you slopeheads can be. You just open your mouth and let me fuck your face, you little Gook bitch. And if you cause me just the slightest bit of pain this knife is going to go right through your fucking throat."
Then I knew that I must obey. I was convinced that my finally had finally lost what was left of his mind. I was completely fearful of him and I had no doubt that he would kill me. To him, I was no longer a real human being but merely a 'Gook' who could be done away with like an animal.
I opened my mouth as wide as I could but my father did not stick in his cock right away. Instead, he swayed his hips from side to side and slapped the sides of my face with his huge, stiff shaft. He cock-whipped me in this manner for several seconds and then he started to laugh hysterically.
"How does that feel, Gook cunt?" He inquired. "You know, you have such a pretty face for a Gook. A lovely face, really. But that's only because you're half American. Most of you Wogs are as ugly as warts, like your fucking mother. God, you probably can't even begin to image how it disgusts me to have to look at her and know that she is my wife."
And then father stopped slapping my face with his cock. He held the tip of his pulsating rod in front of my mouth and then he lunged forward and stuffed his meaty slab all the way into my face until that massive head of his tool had been shoved right down into my throat. I wasn't able to breathe and I'm sure that father, knew this. But he did not extract his organ. Instead, he churned his tube of flesh within my throat and ground his long, pubic strands into the soft skin of my face. I really thought that I was going to die from suffocation.
And then I heard my father whine and grunt just like some kind of beast. I felt his penis expand until it pressed outwards against the walls of my throat and then a moment later I felt him disgorge his thick, hot, orgasmic fluid into my throat. I had to swallow fast and hard to get the sticky gunk down or else I would choke.
At last, father did pull his penis out of my face. He grabbed the base of his cock and aimed his monstrous tool in all directions so that his slimy load spurted out of his piss slit and all over my face. He ejaculated slithers of gray semen upon my forehead and upon my eyelids and upon my nose and upon both sides of the side of my face. Then he pressed the tip of his raging member against my lips and ejected the last drops of his load all over my lips and my chin.
* * *
At this point, Suzie's head slumped down into her hands and she sat still and quiet as if she were exhausted. I didn't think she had the energy to continue and besides, to be frank, her time had run out. So I suggested that she go home and return the day after tomorrow. Suzie explained to me that she couldn't go home for the simple reason that she couldn't possibly put up with her father any longer. I completely understood this and I arranged through a friend of mine who works over at Social Services that Suzie should stay at the house of a social worker. I gave the girl the address of this Social Worker and told Suzie to take a taxi there. The poor girl agreed and then she departed my office.
I called her home and explained to her mother who I was and what I had arranged for her daughter. Suzie's mother readily agreed that Suzie should not come home and asked me to do for her whatever I thought best. I told her I would and then suggested that she herself call up social services and explain the situation at home. I gave her the name an number of my friend who works over there.
Suzie's mother said that she would call and then we said goodbye to each other. I hung up the phone and immediately started to wonder how anybody could behavior in such a repulsive manner as Suzie's father.
No matter how long I practice psychiatry I will never get used to hearing about human degradation and abuse.
INTERVIEW TWO
As soon as Suzie W. walked into my office I could tell that she was much more relaxed than the last time. Being away from home had enabled her to dispel the fear and tension that had gripped her mind. Naturally it would be horrible for a girl to have to live at him and never know when her father might attack and rape her.
I knew I had done the right thing by sending her to live with that social worker. Under the circumstances, I didn't see how it would be possible for her to ever return home as long as her father was still living there.
After discussing the place where Suzie was staying and the sympathetic and kind woman she was staying with, I let Suzie go on telling me about what her father had done to her.
Her story became not only more perverse, but more bizarre as well.
* * *
After father had come all over my face, a completely insane expression came over his face. His eyes popped out of his skull and burned with madness and I knew that he had finally gone berserk. What he did in the next few minutes confirmed my suspicion.
Father ripped open my chins with his knife and then slashed through my panties until my pubic region was exposed. He was not very careful with the knife and as he was tearing open my clothes he had cut through my skin at several places. I was bleeding and I was in pain but of course he was indifferent to that. "Please, please stop!" I begged. "Please leave me alone. What do you want from me?"
He slapped me hard across my face and then grabbed my hair and pulled my head up off of the pillow.
"We want you to talk, you little Gook cunt! We want you to tell us where your boyfriend's company is at. We know who you are, and we know who your boyfriend is. He sent you to this village to spy on us. That's a capital offense in wartime, cunt. I could slit your throat right now and not even have to bother to report it. And don't bother to pretend that you don't know what I'm saying because I know that you speak perfect English. You received you're training in Hanoi. Yes, we know all about you."
Obviously my father had become psychotic. He thought that he was back in Vietnam and that I was a North Vietnamese spy.
I realized that I wouldn't stand any chance of surviving at all unless I played along with this frighteningly insane game of his.
Father shook my head from side to side.
"Talk!" He shouted. "Tell us their position."
He placed the edge of the knife across my Adam's apple.
"Tell us," he went on, "or I'll cut your throat open right now. We don't have time to waste to torture you."
I swallowed hard. I had to strain my mind to think up an answer and I also had strain my voice to be able to speak. But I really didn't think that I was going to get out of this alive.
"The company is to the southwest of here," I told him. "Just by the river."
I had heard my father talk about the war many times and I knew certain technical, military things about it.
"They're in tunnels by the river," I further explained. "You can only get into the tunnel through an underwater entrance in the bank. To the southwest. About due southwest. I don't know the exact compass bearing but there's a huge boulder by the river right over the tunnel. That's it."
My father twisted my hair around his fist until it felt as if he was going to tear my hair right off of my head. I couldn't stop myself from whimpering.
"You better not be lying," he warned me. "Because they'll be no help for you if you do. Nobody's going to rescue you and nobody's going to order your release. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"
"Yes. Yes, I understand."
"I hope you do." He pulled me off of the bed and threw me down hard onto the floor. When I looked up at his twisted, cruel face I could see that he was glaring at my pubic region. Automatically, out of shame, I pressed my thighs together and placed my hands over the triangular patch of black hair upon my belly.
"Take your hands away, Gook bitch!" Father commanded. "There's no reason for a whore like you to be ashamed. Let me see your fucking cunt."
I had no choice but to remove my hands so that father could ogle my pubic patch. He crouched down and ran his finger along my belly, through my pubic hairs, and down to the place where my bush tapered off into a point between my thighs.
"Spread your legs, cunt," father insisted. "Spread 'em wide. I want to see your pussy slit smile at me."
I spread my legs apart until the mouth of my cunt gaped open into my vaginal cavity and then he reached between my thighs and pressed his finger against the tender, membraneous flesh of my vagina.
"Looks like you've got a nice, tight little hole," father remarked. "Now, turn over on your hands and knees and stick your ass up into the air. I'm going to fuck you doggy style. You Gook whores are all nothing more than dogs anyway so it's only fitting. Now move, cunt!"
I turned over and raised myself up on my hands and my knees. Then I stuck my ass way up into the air. Father lost no time. I heard him shuffled forward on his knees and then he entered me from behind. His hefty, broad cock pushed into my vaginal cavity and he plunged deeper and deeper until he had completely filled my cunt. I could feel his pubic hairs bristling against my ass. The crinkled skin of his testicles was slapping back and forth against my pussy lips.
He placed his hands on my shoulders and slowly slid his hardened penis out of my hole. Then he moved his hands down along my sides and took a hold of each of my hanging breasts. He fondled my nipples and then pushed upwards until my breasts were squashed between my chest and his palms.
"Your tits make pretty good handles," he told me. "Now I'm going to hump your brains out."
He squeezed hard on my breasts and I felt his extract his expanded tube of meat from out of my overstuffed pussy. Then he began to hammer his cock in and out of my cunt. His hairy belly smashed against the cheeks of my ass and his hard driving loins pummeled my sore pussy lips. His humping became faster and faster and more and more forceful. He layed the upper part of his torso down upon my back and exerted too much weight on me to bare. I collapsed onto the floor and father just kept drawing his elongated penis in and out of my hole. I could now fell his pubic strands scraping within the crack of my ass. The skin of his instrument was joined so tightly against the flesh of my vaginal cavity that I could feel the heat building up from the friction produced by his humping motions. The pain just grew and grew and it felt as if my guts were just going to blow right apart.
But at last I heard my father start sputtering and snorting like a beast and I felt his globules of semen hurtle against the inside walls of my pussy. He gripped my shoulders tightly as he pumped his gooey come into my cunt and he continued to draw his shaft in and out between my swollen cunt lips. He grunted loudly as his body froze with his cock planted deeply inside of me. He flung the remaining bit of his load into my pussy and then his body relaxed on top of mine. He layed the side of his head against my back and just rested while he caught his breath.
There was nothing for me to do but just lay there and somehow put up with the revulsion I was experiencing. I hoped that at least the insanity had been drained out of him along with his gism.
And then he quickly pulled his cock out of my hole and stood up.
"Turn over, pig," he ordered.
I turned over on my back and the man who fate had made my father looked into my eyes.
"I'm going now to check on your story," he told me. "And if you're lying, when I get back I'm going to disembowel you in such a way that you won't die right away. Then I'm going to watch as the pigs eat your intestines."
I thought to myself, Oh, Jesus, there's no end to this insanity.
"I had better tie you up first," Father decided. "Otherwise, I'm sure you'd try to escape.
Father got some nightgowns out of my chest and used them to find my feet and my ankles. Then he tied my wrists and my ankles together so that my back was painfully arched. He tied another nightgown around my mouth so that it served a gag and then he left. As soon as he was gone I started to wonder about what he was going to do to me when he got back. What would happen when he got out into the streets of New York City? Was he really so insane that he was going to wander around the city looking for a tunnel by the riverbank used by the Vietcong? I didn't know. I really didn't know."
Fortunately, my mother arrived home before my father did. She untied me and I explained to her what had happened. My mother took it all in rather calmly. To a Vietnamese women, such things are the staple of life. And she had long expected that something like this would happen when I got older.
She considered calling the police but finally decided that instead she would call some friends of my father's who served with him in Vietnam. Two of the men agreed to stay with us to protect us from father when he returned. When father didn't come either that night or the next morning, the two men were replaced by two other men, also Viet Vets who had served with my father.
One of them was the doctor who recommended that I come and see you. As far as I know father had not yet come back to the apartment. And I hope he never does. Frankly, Doctor Lamb, I hope they find the bastard dead somewhere.
CONCLUSION
No, I didn't think this was a terrible thing Suzie W. to think about her father. I made her understand that there was no reason why she should feel guilty about such feeling towards her own father in light of what he had done to her.
As for her treatment, after several more sessions I decided that Suzie had not reacted very badly at all to her incestuous experience. I recommended that she continue to see me for a while but the real solution to her problem, it seemed to me, was to keep her father away from her.
I called up Suzie's mother again and persuaded her to issue a warrant for the arrest of her husband, which she did. Meanwhile, I also arranged for Suzie to continue to stay at the home of the social worker until such time as her father is apprehended.
Suzie's story had been, for me, another lesson in a particularly American form of sickness. Americans have a way of building up hates and prejudices which are finally released from them in a sudden, secretive, and often bizarre manner.
The incident between Suzie W. and her father is one such example. There are many more. Such incidents are happening somewhere now between the Atlantic and the Pacific as well as in Alaska and Hawaii.
And I fear that they will be going on for quite a long time.
CASE HISTORY FOUR
SUBJECT: Cindy W. AGE: Sixteen
INTERVIEW ONE
When Cindy W. walked in she appeared calm. It was to take me a while before I realized that she had only adopted this composure as her way of dealing with a very traumatic experience. Actually, Cindy was in a state of complete shock. Indeed, she was not very far from being comatose. But I could see right away that she was very, very pretty. What is more, she possessed the sort of sweet and gentle prettiness that one simply does not see very often these days.
Her long hair was colored a peach blond and it was tied behind her head in a pony tail. Her e medium blue eyes were large and pleasant and her compaction was mostly creamy, but slightly ruddy like that of a baby. But in contrast to her smooth, clear, innocent face were breasts were fairly large and they appeared to be firm and well shaped. Cindy's body was slim and sensually curved but I wouldn't really describe her body as voluptuous. In summary, her appearance was sexy but without being overly so. Her image was that of the country girl that might invite a young man to spend some time with her in a hayloft.
She stood about five foot, eight inches and she was wearing flat shoes. And she was wearing a maroon skirt and a blouse with red and green flower prints on it. Her clothes accentuated her attractiveness and were congruous with her face.
And, what is more, she had a very warm, pleasing smile. Her eyes twinkled in a certain way when she smiled which let me know that she was Irish. Like many of the girls who come to me she was not able to tell me her problem at first. So for about fifteen minutes we talked about the weather and about the gasoline shortage and about whether or not teenagers were still using drugs. I was trying to get her to loosen up and start really communicating with me but there seemed to be no way. I was beginning to think that I would never break through. .
And then suddenly Cindy loudly stated, "I've had sexual intercourse with my grandfather! My own grandfather! Doctor, do you understand what I'm telling you?"
I told her that I did understand and I urged her to relate to me exactly what had happened between her and her grandfather. At that point, Cindy's inhibitions broke down completely and she began to talk freely.
* * *
I was away at boarding school in Connecticut and it seemed as though nothing bad could ever possibly happen to me. Frankly, Doctor Lamb, my parents were well off. They had secluded me in a genteel little world up in Connecticut which was quite removed from the rest of the world outside.
Up at the Delanovil School for Young Ladies our only concerns were passing exams and competing in the intra-mural volleyball playoffs. And all of us knew that it wouldn't matter how well we did at school because we were so wealthy and well connected that we would be able to get anything out of life we desired without much more than lifting a finger.
As far as sex was concerned, I didn't think much about it. It simply wasn't a big part of my life. I had gone out with several boys from other area private schools but I hadn't ever done more with any of them but allow them to kiss me on the lips. Last summer, I did allow a boy up at a marina in Massachusetts to touch my breast for a few seconds. But that was the most sexually involved I had ever become with a boy.
And then one day, about a month ago, I was out in the field playing volleyball when I heard my voice being paged over the loudspeaker. A voice told me to go to the administration building and that is what I did.
When I got there, I was immediately ushered into the office of Miss Shaver, the principle of her school. I could tell from the gloomy expression on her face that she had some bad news for me. But I just stood in her office and waited for her to speak. "Cindy," Miss Shaver began, "I'm afraid I have something terrible to tell you. I wish there was a gentle way to say this, but there isn't. Cindy, your parents and your brother and were sister were... were killed in a plane crash this morning. There's no doubt about that information. I wouldn't have told you if I were not absolutely sure."
I remembered that my mother and my father had taken my younger brother and sister down to Florida to see Disney World. Then my parents were going to leave the children with my grandparents in Miami and fly down to some island in the Caribbean.
At first, I didn't really comprehend what Miss Shaver had said to me. But then, after a few moments I did understand. And then this feeling of horror rose up' inside of me. It felt like a hot knife was cutting right through my body.
Doctor Lamb, it seems like from that moment my whole life changed. Everything became like a dream after that, a terrible dream. Voices were like echoes and faces were like ghosts drifting around in front of me. I haven't even been exactly certain about what's been going on.
I recall crying when Miss Shaver told me that my parents had been killed. But it was like another person inside of me was doing the crying. I myself didn't feel anything at all. Not at all. To tell you the truth, Doctor, I'm still not sure whether I really feel anything or not.' I'm not sure I remember exactly what real feelings are.
Anyway, Doctor, my father's brother and his wife came to the school and drove me to their house. I went with them to the cemetery and then I went back with them to their house where the wake was being held.
I stayed with my aunt and my uncle for a while and while I was there I found out a number of things in regards to my parent's demise. First of all, as the only surviving child, I was to receive the bulk of their vast estate. And not only that, but my parents had taken out flight insurance policies on each of their lives and I was also to receive the death benefits from those policies. That added up to another half a million dollars.
In short, Doctor Lamb, I was quite suddenly a very rich girl. But I was not a happy girl at all. I didn't want my parent's money or the money from their flight insurance policies. I wanted them! And I also wanted my little brother and sister. But these people were gone from my life forever. They would never return. That seemed incredible to me but I knew it was true.
My various relatives continually showed up at my uncle's house and they all discussed what should finally be done with me. At last it was decided that there was no reason why I should not return to the Delanovil School. But it was now Spring Vacation and my aunt and uncle had planned to go away to Europe at this time. They had already paid for a suite on the Queen Elizabeth Two.
But my grandfather - my late father's father - said that I could come and stay with him until it was time for me to return to school. He had a house way up in the Adirondacks in the middle of nowhere.
I had always loved that house. It was perched just beneath the crest of a long mountain and it looked out over a large lake in a valley below. Only a narrow, dirt road led up to that house and much of the building materials had been brought in by helicopter.
The house had cost my grandfather a fortune to build. It was rather large. There was a huge cellar with a swimming pool, a sauna, a steam room and a gym in it. Even a one lane bowling alley! And upstairs the place was arranged around a big courtyard with the most wonderful garden in it. Four wide, clear plexiglass tubes led from the center of each side of the courtyard so that you could walk into them from the house. Each of the tubes led up to a large, plexiglass globe which held a small kitchen, a dining table, and a big telescope. The globe was raised up off the ground and held there at the ends of the converging plexiglass tubes. So the garden was not only all around the globe but also under it.
"I'm telling you, Doctor, that house was the most wonderful place. Despite the fact that my parents had just died I must admit that I was excited about going there.
My grandfather and I drove in his limousine to a small, private airport. I had always liked him and I held his hand as we drove along. He smiled at me with his kind, well lined face and I felt very comforted. Finally, I leaned my head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around me. We drove like that the rest of the way to the airport.
At the airport, my grandfather and I boarded a helicopter which flew us all the way up to the Adirondacks. The helicopter flew over the mountains which were now all covered with snow and landed on a small landing pad. After the pilot had helped my grandfather carry some groceries and other stuff into the house, the pilot took off. My grandfather and I watched the helicopter go and I waved goodbye to the pilot who waved back.
And then we were alone. Way up there in the mountains. Just my grandfather, myself, and that huge house.
The air was freezing and snow was beginning to fall. We went into the house and ate a lunch of fresh oysters and pizza inside the plexiglass globe. A fierce snowstorm had now developed and we watched the thick, heavy flakes drift down all around the globe. It was wonderful, just wonderful.
Maybe you're thinking that it's a bit strange that we ate oysters and pizza. Well, Doctor, if you knew my grandfather you wouldn't find that surprising. He was the kind of guy that I guess most people would describe as eccentric. But really that's a stupid word. He just liked to do different kinds of things and to try to get a lot of enjoyment out of life, that's all. And I really loved him and thought a lot of him. I always had. And I probably still would if my grandfather hadn't done that terrible thing to me.
It happened that night...
* * *
And then Cindy suddenly stopped. I asked her to please go on but she started shouting, "No, no! I can't tell! Don't make me tell! Don't make me!"
I stood up and tried to comfort Cindy but she just kept screaming and shuddering. I was obliged to call in my nurse and ask her to hold the poor child while I injected a sedative into Cindy's arm.
The girl kept flailing all about and shouting until the sedative finally took effect. Then she sat peacefully and quietly and finally drifted into sleep.
I should now explain that Cindy had been discovered walking along the New York State Northway, a highway in upper New York State. She had been babbling incoherently and she was not wearing any clothes. And it was the dead of winter.
The local authorities had placed her into an institution while they had attempted to find out her identity. But they had not been able to and nobody had showed up to claim the child. So at last they had sent her down to me, accompanied by a nurse. The nurse had gone out for lunch when Cindy had come into my office.
When the nurse from the institution arrived I instructed my nurse to help her take the girl downstairs. I had arranged for the nurse to take Cindy to a small, private institution in Manhattan which was run by a friend and colleague of mine. And I also told the nurse that she should bring Cindy back for further consultation in three days.
After Cindy was gone I contacted the proper authorities by phone and told them the information which I had gleaned from Cindy. Providing that the girl was speaking the truth, I knew that she had attended the DeGrandis School in Connecticut. That would be sufficient for finding out her true identity.
INTERVIEW TWO
By the next time Cindy had returned to my office I had found out that she had not been lying about attending the Delanovil School. In fact, it turned out that everything which she had told me was true. I now knew her exact identity and I had been in contact with several of her relatives.
Except for her grandfather. I discovered that there was no telephone link to his house in the Adirondacks. He did possess a radio, however, and Cindy's uncle promised that he would try to get in touch with him.
In any case, her uncle did agree that the girl should be left in my care. He had heard about me and he knew that my reputation was world-wide and excellent.
Once again, Cindy and I talked about various purely conversational matters for about fifteen minutes. And then she suddenly started talking about her experiences at her grandfather's house once more as if she were picking up from where she had left off.
* * *
After lunch, Grandfather told me that he was going to take a nap. He said that I was free to wander through any part of the sprawling house and that I should consider his house as my own.
So when grandfather retired to his bedroom, I went on a tour of his isolated house on the mountain.
I wandered through the long, wide hallway on the southern side of house and stepped into the music room. This room had shelves all along the .walls which were lined with records. And all kinds of records too. Not just classical records, like you might expect from such an old man, but also .jazz and even Rock and Roll.
There was a control panel for the audio system in the center of one of the walls and four tremendous speakers in each of the corners, near the ceiling. I supposed that the equipment itself must be hidden away somewhere behind the shelves.
I put on a record by a Rock group called 'The Who' and the sound was absolutely terrific. It was as though all four members of the band were right in the room playing their instruments and singing. I had never heard anything quite like that before.
After listening to one whole side of the album I put it away and turned off the audio system. I decided that I would explore the rest of the house.
I walked into the hallway, went to the end of the hallway and turned, and walked along the western hallway until I spotted a green door. I opened the door and went inside.
There was a room with a plexiglass dome on the ceiling which was filled with more than a dozen pin ball tables as well as all kinds of electronic games. I absolutely adore pinball and I played about ten games until I finally got tired of it. I played several of the electronic games and then I finally got bored with those two. So I continued my exploration of grandfather's house.
I found the television room - which had a gigantic screen built into the wall, and the billiards room, and a radio room and a bathroom with a great, big sunken tub which looked like it would take about an hour to fill. I determined that I would take a bath in that tub later that evening.
And then I opened a red door and found myself in a vast, high-ceilinged library. The decor seemed strange because the rest of the house was ultra-modern whereas the library looked like something out of an old movie. There were three levels of book lined shelves and between each level was a gridded, metal walkway. Ladders led from the floor to the next level and then up to the third level. I could see all the way up through the space between the walkways to a glass skyway. The snow was still falling and it was crashing against the glass. Right away, I climbed up to the second level and moved along the walkway, examining the shelves. There were the usual kinds of classics that you would expect to find in an old looking library like this. Hard covered volumes of Dickens and Hardy and Hugo and DeMaupissant as well as books on Medicine and Geography. I wasn't in the mood to read any of these kinds of books - even though I'm usually a voracious and sophisticated reader - and so I didn't pull any of the books out of the shelves.
But then suddenly something caught my eye and I came to a stop. There was a long shelf filled with different colored paper back books. I turned my head and looked at the bindings on a set of black paperbacks. All of them were titled 'Violent Stories of:' followed by something else in smaller letters. For example, there was 'Violent Stories of: Rape and Abuse', and 'Violent Stories of: Incest'. And it just went on and on like that.
I was completely shocked. I just couldn't belief that these books were in my grandfather's library. I thought to myself that perhaps somebody else had put these books here but then I realized that this was my grandfather's sacred abode and that he was all alone here. Nobody would put any books onto the shelves of his library other than himself.
As I moved along a bit I noticed a set of red paperbacks. I turned my head and glanced at the title on the binding. It read: 'Pussy Eating Nympho Sluts'.
This was too incredible. Those disgusting words seemed like something which were a million worlds removed from my grandfather. Certainly I knew that he was a unique character. But he was not a pervert. Not my friendly faced old grandfather.
There was a coughing sound from down below. I looked down and saw my grandfather's face. He was smiling. I forced myself to smile back down at him.
And then I realized that grandfather was looking through the gridded walkway and up my dress! That's why he was smiling like that I quickly brought my legs together and stepped back against the shelf.
"Hello, Cindy, dear," grandfather called out to me. "I'm glad to see that you found my special collection. As you can see, I've collected all the classics. Not just the classics of legitimate literature, but the classics of pornography as well. You really should read those books. I'm sure there's a lot you could learn from them. Much more than you'll ever learn by attending that idiotic, snobbish school in Connecticut."
I didn't know what to say so I stayed silent.
Grandfather climbed up the ladder and moved along the walkway until he was standing right in front of me. I couldn't help noticing how quickly and with what agility he moved for a man in his late sixties.
* * *
I glanced at the book whose title had caught my attention and grandfather pulled it out from the shelf and looked at the cover.
"Ah, 'Pussy Eating Nympho Sluts'," he said. "That is truly a great work. Every young lady should be made to read that. And this one as well."
He pulled another book out of the shelf and held up the cover in front of my eyes. "The Bitch's Lesson," he stated.
I read those words on the cover and looked at the drawing of a young woman whose arms and feet were bound and who was prostrate on her knees before a naked man. He had his hand at the back of her head as if he were about to move her head towards his huge tool. I couldn't even - or didn't want to - imagine what he was about to make her do.
"Every girl," grandfather went on, "should learn the lesson's that this bitch learned in this book. In my opinion, this is about all a woman needs to know. There isn't really any purpose for a female other than to serve a man sexually. Women can't really analyze or speculate or rationalize very well. They're not even properly sensitized, if you ask me. So why shouldn't they just provide men with pleasure? After all, life is short."
He paused for several seconds.
And then he asked, "Do you know what I'm talking about Cindy?"
I didn't respond. "No, I guess you don't." grandfather answered his own question.
He reached and stroked my long, peach blond hair. Then he brought his fingers down along the side of my face and pressed his fingertips against my lips. He moved his fingertips from side to side along my lips and then he worked my lips apart and touched my teeth.
"Cindy," grandfather said, "you happen to be a very beautiful girl. But you must learn to use your beauty for a worthwhile purpose. You certainly mustn't let these luscious lips of yours go to waste... " Grandfather glanced down at my breast. Then he cupped his right hand over my right breast and gently fondled and pinched my breast through my blouse and through the cup of my bra.
"And these breasts," grandfather added. "You know, they won't stay firm and ripe and succulent forever. One day they'll began to soften and sag. You must make use of them before that happens. Or I should say, you must let others make use of them."
Grandfather began to unbutton my blouse with his nimble fingers. As he unbuttoned more of the buttons he slid his fingertips back and forth across the skin of my breasts and across my midriff and across my tummy. He twirled his fingertip around in my inverted belly button and then inserted his fingertips beneath the band of my skirt. He worked my teeth apart with the fingers of his other hand and then moved his fingers around in my mouth. He played with my tongue and slid his finger in. "Cindy, tell me something, have you ever let a man play with your tit before?"
Grandfather removed his left hand from my mouth and moved it down along the bare portion of my left breast. Then he inserted his fingertips beneath the cup of my bra and moved his hand down along my breast until he had cupped all of my breast in his hand. He grasped my nipple between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed it quite hard. "Answer me, Cindy!" He loudly insisted.
And then he squeezed my nipple even harder as if to urge me to respond.
I swallowed hard and then I answered, "Well, I did once allow a boy to touch my breast."
Grandfather laughed.
I mean, he said, "did you ever allow a boy to really fondle your breast. The way I'm doing now?"
"No, Grandfather, I never did."
"Just as I thought."
He pushed his hand down further into my pants and slid his fingers along my tummy until I felt his fingertips moving through my pubic hairs. And he kept pushing his fingers further and further downwards until his fingertips were probing into the entrance to my vagina. He worked his finger between my inner labia - that's what we had learned to call them in Sexual Education Class - and inserted his finger right into my slit. I couldn't belief that my own grandfather's finger was now deep within my vagina.
"Oh, that's nice," grandfather remarked. "There's nothing in this world I like better than a tight, furry vagina. And you've got one of the tightest and furriest I've come into contact with in years."
Grandfather pushed down with his left hand until he had pulled the cup of my bra down past my left breast. As soon as the flesh, pinkish mound popped out of the cup he began to kiss my breast all over. He lapped his tongue back and forth across my breast until he had covered my breast with glistening saliva. Then he kissed my slightly elongated nipple several times, wrapped his lips around my nipple, and began sucking profusely. There was nothing for me to do but just stand there and watch my nipple move in and out of m grandfather's mouth. He looked up at me.
"You have such beautiful, blue eyes, Cindy. And let me tell you that your tits are simply scrumptious."
He licked his lips and then he moved his face forward until his lips were pressed against mine. Then my own grandfather gave me a great, big, wet, hot, sloppy kiss. He stuck his huge tongue into my mouth and licked all around my mouth. Then he drew my tongue into his mouth and sucked upon it as he had sucked upon my nipple.
Suddenly grandfather pulled away, placed his hands on my shoulders and looked up me. His expression was that of a wildman's. I had never seen my grandfather look like this before. His face was covered with beads of sweat.
"I must see your cunt," he told me. "I must see it now!"
He reached down and ripped the band of my skirt open. Then he pulled down the zipper along the side of my skirt and began to tug the garment down over my hips.
"No, grandfather," I pleaded, "don't. Please don't."
But he seemed to be oblivious to my words now. He pulled the skirt over my hips and then slid it down along my thighs until my skirt fell to my ankles. Then he glanced down at the lowest part of my belly. Grandfather's eyes traveled along my flat tummy and then he just studied my pair of white, bikini panties. I could see that his eyes were transfixed upon the triangular mound within the crotch of my panties. He cupped his hand over that protruding mound and moved his palm up and down upon my clump of pubic hairs while his middle finger pressed into my slit. He stuck his finger right into my vagina and shoved the elastic material of my panties into my narrow hole. My panties were pulled down until a ridge of thick, brown hairs protruded above the elastic band. As soon as grandfather saw that ridge of hairs he licked his lips.
"Oh, how beautiful," he commented. "How truly beautiful. I would burn all the works of Rembrandt and Michelangelo just to keep sights like this in our world."
Grandfather placed his hands over my breasts and then lowered himself to his knees. He licked my exposed ridge of pubic hairs with the tip of his tongue while he dragged his hands down along my body. When he reached the band of my panties he began to slowly unroll my panties with his fingers.
As more and more of my mat of brown hairs was exposed, grandfather licked his way down through my bush, pausing on occasion to nip at the entangled strands with his teeth. When he had rolled my panties all the way down to my thighs he sliced through my brown bush with the tip of his tongue until he mouth was right between my thighs. Then he shoved his powerful tongue right into my slit all the way until the lips of his mouth were pressing against the lips of my cunt.
God help me, Doctor Lamb, but the pleasure was absolutely enormous. I placed my hands against the back of my grandfather's head and pulled his head forward until his face was buried in my bush. Grandfather licked his tongue all around the ridge of my cunt and then moved his tongue upwards until it brushed against my incredibly sensitive clitoris.
"Oh, Grandfather!" I shrieked. "Oh, God, that's so good. Oh God!"
And then I remember breathing fast and hard and moaning and groaning like some kind of animal while grandfather drew his long tongue in and out of my cunt. I completely let myself be taken over my the waves of pleasurable sensations that were sweeping through me. I had put control of my body into my grandfather's hands.
Suddenly, grandfather stood up, placed his hands on my shoulders, and forced me down until my knees were bent halfway to the gridded walkway. He quickly undid his pants and pulled his pants and his underpants down past his knees.
I glanced down and saw his mammoth penis grow and grow and keep stiffening until it must have stood out from his belly for almost a foot. The end of his cock pressed against the top of my bush, right into my tummy, and I could feel that the flesh was hot as a rock and hot as a piece of burning coal. It was also the glowing red color of a piece of burning coal.
Grandfather lowered his body and maneuvered the broad head of his meaty cock between my trembling pussy lips. Then he gritted his teeth and thrust his hips upwards and forwards. I screamed as his huge penis wrenched through the tender tissues within my cunt and tore the walls of my womb apart in a way to which they were not accustomed. And he just kept stuffing his great, big shaft deeper and deeper into my cunt until it felt like piece of steel was being hammered into my guts.
And then there was a ferocious pain and I felt skin tear within me. I shrieked over and over and I began to move my shit up and down along grandfather's rod. I guess I thought that if I helped him smash through my hymen the pain would be over sooner.
I was right. The last ripped fragments of my hymen seemed to melt away and become hot, flowing liquid. Grandfather's cock glided all the way into my cunt until he had stuffed my womb with his gigantic slab of meat. He stood up and pressed his chest against my breasts. Then he began to kiss my breasts all over and to fondle them.
"Oh, Grandfather," I gasped. "Oh, what you're doing. Oh, please don't do it. Oh, please keep on doing it. Oh, God. Oh, God! Oh, sweet God!"
Flames of intense erotic pleasure tore through my cunt and my guts seemed to be melted down into cream which oozed along the walls of my womb. The flames just kept growing and growing until my body was completely enveloped in a bubble of ecstasy. I wrapped my arms around my grandfather and rubbed my swollen pussy lips against his crashing, thumping loins. His huge testicles swung between my thighs and slammed into the cheeks of my ass.
"Yes, Grandfather!" I shouted. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Ah! Ah! Ah! OH!... " My expressions of supreme joy and utter release just faded away into a guttural cry.
Grandfather ground the base of his cock against the ridge of my cunt and scraped his pubic bush against the mound of matted brown hairs which covered my lower belly and my vulva. He rested his palms upon my breasts and thrust his hips back and forth, drawing his cock in and out of my cunt. He moved away from me and I watched his plunge his long, meaty tool up between my thighs until his tube disappeared within my tight hole. Then he drew the flesh rod out of my cunt and stuffed his cock back into my again. I peered very intently into my grandfather's eyes and he peered into my eyes in the same way. We both gritted our teeth and concentrated on piercing the sexual satisfaction which we were presently supplying to each other.
And then I saw the look of frenzied rapture spread across grandfather's face. I felt his cock expand within my cunt like an inflated balloon and then I felt his penis twitch spasmodically. He grunted and heaved his breath out of his nose and I knew that he was experiencing an orgasm. A massive orgasm.
Grandfather's body became very still while he shot his fantastically enormous load into my cunt in a series of explosive bursts. Only the head of his cock remained within my gripping hole now and I could see his piston vibrate every time the fluid went coursing through. And I could feel the stickiness and the heat of his semen when the huge drops splashed all around within my vagina. It was the most wonderful sensation I had ever known.
When grandfather reached the climax of his orgasm he began to slide his cock in and out of my hole again until he had emptied his entire load into my slimy box. At last, his release was complete and he sighed deeply. He was totally exhausted and he plucked his penis out from my hole, placed his back against the shelf of pornographic books, and slid all the way down until he ass was positioned upon the gridded walkway. Then he closed his eyes and tried to catch his breath.
I looked down at my grandfather's face and I could tell that he had just experienced total sexual satisfaction. Gunk was still dripping out of the oval hole at the tip of his cock and his softening pipe was coated with a film of glistening fluid which I knew was s mixture of his gism and my own vaginal juices.
And then I realized the full extent of what had just taken place. I had just had sexual intercourse with my own grandfather. I was suddenly filled up with sickening horror in the same way that I had been if I stepped out of my dress and panties and immediately headed down the ladder. I vaguely remember tearing off the rest of my clothes but I do know that when I made it outside I was stark naked. Then I just started running.
I ran across the snow covered ground, through the falling snow, down the mountain, through the forest. I ran and I ran and I ran until I sort of recall reaching a big highway. Then I just kept running and running and running along that highway. And running and running and running... And now, Doctor, here I am with you.
CONCLUSION
Cindy W. is another victim of a lecherous, parent. In this case, of course, not a father, but a grandfather. However, it is the same set of circumstances that I have seen so many times. The girl feels guilty even though she had not actually done anything to feel guilty about. During the act of intercourse, she became unaware Her intense guilt feelings have induced the girl to enter a state of shock. In order to pull her out of that state, I must make her understand that she actually has nothing to feel guilty about.
But this will not be easy. I think that I may very well utilize hypnosis to guide her mind back through time to that incident with her grandfather in the library. In this way, I hope to enable her to observe that incident as an outsider. Perhaps then she will be able to clearly see that she was truly a victim in the hands of her perverted grandfather. She must understand this in order to be cured.
But, once again, I fear that there may be permanent psychological scars which will inhibit her sex life for many years.
We shall see. We shall see.
CASE HISTORY FIVE
SUBJECT: LISA S. Age: 19
INTERVIEW ONE
Lisa S. was not really all that upset when she entered my office. It was obvious from the expression on her face that she was troubled, but that it was trouble which she was able to an die.
It was not that her situation was any less dramatic than those of the other girls who come to see me, but that Lisa had a much stronger and more insulated personality than most of the other girls.
She sat right down in the chair in front of my desk and after introducing herself she immediately began relating her particular incestuous episode to me. She spoke in a calm and steady voice and never once became hysterical or even loud. Lisa stood about five foot, seven and she had long, dark blond hair and large, round, soft chestnut eyes. Her eyes -were the most beautiful pair of brown eyes which I have ever seen in my life.
She possessed a full, voluptuous, and manifestly sexual figure and she moved her body and, in general, acted as though she was quite aware of this. She seemed very sexually oriented and, frankly, a bit of a tease. But despite this, she also seemed like a basically friendly and healthily extroverted teenager.
If it had not been for the incident which she was about to tell me, I doubt if she would have been anything other than a normal, fairly well adjusted, and reasonably content young woman.
Here is what she told me.
* * *
I guess, Doctor Lamb, that I have always been the kind of girl who sort of the troubled kind of guys. You know, the ones who always are outside of the mainstream and who have problems adjusting to society and to the world.
I gotta' tell you the truth and say that I like to be a sort of mother figure to these guys. I like to help them along and try to save them. But it always winds up the same because I don't know what to make them into. And when I realize that I leave them and that's that.
I don't know why I'm like that, Doctor. I don't know why I seek out guys like that. You're the psychiatrist, maybe you'll be able to figure it out.
Wait a minute, Doctor, I haven't told you the whole truth. I said that I leave guys when I find out I don't know what to make them into. There's more to it than that. I leave them when I find out that they're simply nothing. You see, at first I always think they're special because they're troubled and because they're outsiders. But what I really wind up realizing is that these guys are simply fuck-ups. Losers, is what they are. Zeros. Assholes.
But for some reason I never get that at first, no matter how many of these zeroes I hang out with. I guess every time I meet another one I make myself forget. Or else I believe that this guy is different. I don't know exactly what happens. But that's how it always is.
For example, the first guy I went out with in junior high was one of those school bullies who is always picking on other guys and getting into fights. And he was always failing all his classes and playing hooky a lot. When I went out with him I tried to keep him out of fights and make him come into school more. But it wound up that he talked me into playing hooky a lot and doing all kinds of juvenile delinquent things.
Finally when I realized that he was nothing but a big dude without a brain I left him. He threatened to kick the shit out of me at first and I had to have my brother and some of his friends protect me for a while. But that guy stopped bothering me after a while and I hardly ever saw him. So that was that.
Then there were a few more of these guys until I met Tony. Tony was an old hippy and he was one of the last guys around with long hair. I thought he was special because he used to tell me all about the sixties and he used to put down just about everybody famous in the world and talk about how everything was bullshit. I met him 'cause he always used to hang around this bar in Queens that I went to in high-school where they let you in even if you weren't eighteen. The name of the place was 'The Pit'.
Tony was the first guy who fucked me and even with sex I found out that he was a zero because he didn't really know much about what to do in bed even though he was already twenty-seven. But I didn't find that out until much later.
I also took Acid for the first time with Tony and he used to get me hooked up in all kinds of dope deals. I even got arrested once with him just outside the pit and it was a big hassle for my father to get me out of the jam.
My father, by the way, was already freaking out long before that point. He kept screaming about how all the guys I was going out with were just worthless bums and that I was going to wind up being like them if I kept going out with those guys. But I never listened to him.
But when I went off to college in Upstate New York and started meeting other guys I quickly realized that Tony was nothing more than a burn-out. When I told him that I didn't want to see him anymore he kept coming up to visit me and once he tried to break into my room after I locked him outside. But finally he stopped coming up to try to see me and that was the end of Tony.
Then there were two more guys I went out with college who were also a lot like the other guys I had been going out with all my life. There isn't really anything special I could tell you about them.
And then I met Burton. Burton was this big, muscular, black guy who I first met in an encounter group at college that was also a psychology class. Even though he was such a big guy it turned out from what he said in the encounter group that he was really all gentle and sensitive inside.
I was really attracted to him right away. And to tell you the truth, Doctor, I also got into him because of the sexual thing in looking at his shiny black skin and thinking about his big, black muscles. I even wondered if his cock was really huge the way black guys cocks are supposed to be.
I kept thinking about what my father would say if I came back home with this great, big black guy. Both my parents would shit in their pants if I did that, I figured. But I couldn't help from feeling more and more attracted to Burton every day. In fact, even before I had started to go out with him I fell in love with him.
I just loved hearing him talking in the encounter group about all the problems he had dealing with other people and adjusting to the world. He's always seem so upset that he was just one the point of violence. But he never actually would get violent.
The way we started going out was really simple. We passed by each other in the union one day and we just both stopped and looked at each other. Then we started talking really soft as though we didn't want anyone else to hear out conversation. Like we were all along together, the two of us, in the world. He asked me if I wanted to go to the jazz concert they were having at the school that Friday and I said yes. We just kept looking at each other for a few seconds and we almost kissed right there in the student union in front of everybody.
So we went to the jazz concert together and when he was walking me back to my room he started telling me about how he was tired of black people being deprived second-class citizens and that he would use violence if he had to rather than be persecuted by white people any longer. I didn't really think he's ever become violent but I loved listening to him and I started to fall more and more in love with him.
My roommate had gone home that weekend and as soon as we got into my dorm room we started making out really heavy. His hands were all over my tits and my cunt and he started to pull off my clothes. I tried to stop him but he didn't pay any attention to me. I guess in a way you could say that he raped me.
But I loved it anyway. It turned out that his cock was a huge tube of black meat and I just loved to have him pound it into me and to suck on until he came all over my face.
Watching that white come of his spurt out of that black tube really turned me on. I couldn't get enough of it.
And I just kept thinking, what would my parents say if they knew? I had to find out. I kept nagging Burton to come home with me and finally he agreed to come back for the beginning of Christmas vacation.
My parents didn't react exactly as I thought they would. My father didn't freak out but he just got this look on his face that said, I knew something like this would happen. I just knew that it would lead up to this. But he remained cool and was perfectly polite as they it was no big deal, even though I knew he was burning inside. My mother also stayed polite but unlike my father she couldn't hide the fact from Burton that she was shocked and disgusted. When we were doing the dishes together she didn't even speak to me but I knew what she was thinking. She was thinking, Lisa, you bitch, you're doing this on purpose to me. You're getting even with me for some reason.
That's what she was thinking, but she never said it. But I knew. I knew.
But Burton stayed at my parents place for three days and we had a really nice time together in New York. He was from Buffalo originally and he had never seen the city before. We explored New York together and sucked at all different kinds of places. On rooftops, in garages, in taxi cabs, and even once in the living room when my parents were asleep. I knew that they knew that Burton and I were fucking each other.
Just before Burton left he told me that he knew that my parents couldn't stand him but that he had expected that and' he had a good time anyway. He told me that despite the fact that I was white he loved me and he would be happy to see me back at school. Then I kissed him right out in public at the bus station and he got on the bus. I waved goodbye to him as the bus pulled out and he waved back at me through the long window.
That night my parents and I didn't speak much at dinner. But I knew that they were smoldering with resentment and with fear. They were shitting bricks at the thought that I might actually marry Burton. They would rather have seen me marry a burn-out like Tony than a Negro. I knew that perfectly well.
I watched television for a while with them and then I took a bath and went into my bedroom. I was just about to turn off the lights and go to sleep when I heard somebody knocking at the door. I was wearing a sheer, yellow nightgown with nothing on underneath and I pulled the cover up to my neck. "Yes?" I called out.
"Lisa, it's me," my father responded. He opened the door and came into the room.
He shut the door right away and stood there smoking his pipe and just studying me. But he didn't say a word for more than a minute. It really was weird and it made me feel weird. I didn't know what to say to him either.
Then he walked over to the window, opened it, and dumped out his pipe. He closed the window, walked over the my bed, and placed the pipe into the pocket of his blue bathrobe.
"Did you and Burton have a good time together?" He asked in a very plain voice.
"Yeah, we did. If everything works out I'd like Burton to come down here during the summer. Then he can come with us to our house in Easthampton."
Father's face remained blank and he nodded his head up and down. "Uh-huh... was his only response.
Then he was silent for a few more seconds while he looked at me and seemed to be pondering.
"Lisa," father finally said, "I've got something important to say to you."
"What is it, dad?"
"Lisa, my daughter, I've been up with a hell of a lot from you, as you well know. I've watched you bring home boys who were nothing much more than retards or criminals and sometimes both. I pulled connections with guys who were my friends to get you out of jail that time you were busted. And I've had to listen to the neighbors talk about how my daughter was running around with trash or, worse, just look at me smugly at parties. And I had to put up with knowing that everything you did was directed against your mother and I as some sort of punishment. That was the most painful part. That all of it was done to hurt us."
I didn't answer.
"But, Lisa, despite everything you have done up to now, none of it was as bad, as painful to your mother and I, as bringing into our home a fucking Nigger."
Doctor, I was absolutely shocked. My father had always been a racist but he was the kind of phony liberal that would never utter a word like 'nigger'. And I had never even heard him curse before in my entire life. I could tell that the shock I was experiencing was displayed on my face.
Father grinned an laughed slightly.
"You didn't think," he said, "that I'd actually say something like that, did you? Well, I did say it and I mean it. Lisa, I want to tell you that you are a sick pig to stoop so low just to hurt your mother and I. And it is the last straw. I am tired of having a little nothing of an ungrateful and stinking bitch like you dare to punish myself and my wife. Who the fuck you think you are! Well, I shall tell you. Lisa, you are nothing. You are a worthless piece of shit and a tramp and a slut. You're not fit to be my daughter. Do you understand that, Lisa?"
I still didn't answer him. I was now frozen with shock. It didn't seem possible that my own father was actually saying these words to me. I even shook my head as though this was all a dream and I could make myself wake up. But no matter how much I shook my head I still saw the same things around me.
"Lisa," father went on, "I want to tell you that from now on you are no longer my daughter. I don't know you, do you understand that? All I know is that some filthy slut who fucks niggers is lying in a bed in my apartment. I don't know her name or where she came from."
Father came closer and glared down at me. His mouth opened up until all of his teeth showed and his face was stretched out into a grin.
"Tell me something, Lisa," he said, "did you suck that nigger's dick?"
I just looked at him. And then I decided that I must speak. But even after I made that decision it took me a few moments before I could manage to speak.
"You called me 'sick' before," I replied at last, "but you are a sick racist. These are pretty low-level words to be coming from an educated adult like you."
"Oh, knock off the crap, Lisa. You know that you hate niggers as much as I do. You only brought this nigger home to torment me just as you went out with all those other jerks to torment me. You only were attracted to his nigger because you knew that he would be the most objectionable person to your parents. That's all that you're looking for in a boy."
"Father, you're a narrow-minded bigot," I told him. "But I shouldn't even call you father anymore. You said I'm not your daughter anymore? Well, that's fine because I don't want you to be my father. Now please leave my room so that I can get dressed."
"How are you going to do that, Lisa?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that only my daughter's clothes are in this room. But you're not my daughter. So none of these clothes belong to you. Not even whatever you're wearing now belongs to you."
"Look," I said, "this is really too ri... "
"Answer my question, pig! Did you suck that nigger's cock?"
"I would never answer a question like that."
"You don't have to, Lisa. I already know the answer. You've sucked his cock many times. You loved to suck it. You begged him to let you suck his cock. Now, isn't that true?"
I sat up and gritted my teeth. I didn't even realize that the blanket had slid down from my chest. Father was now able to see my naked breasts through the translucent, yellow material of my nightgown.
"Yes," I hissed at him. "that's exactly how it was. I got down on my hands and knees and pleaded with him to let me take his black penis into my mouth. Your own daughter begged to let a 'nigger' feed her his cock. How do you like that, daddy dear? How does it feel to have slaved away all your life just to find out that your daughter was a nigger's sex slave?"
Father just stood there glowering at me and breathing faster and faster. I just couldn't stop myself from tormenting him some more.
"That 'nigger', as you put it, father, shot his come right into my mouth and I drank it all in. He came all over my face and all over my hair. And when he was ready to go to sleep I would grab his cock and suck him up until he became hard and shot his load into my face again. I could never get enough of his scum. Now, what do you think of that, father?"
For several seconds his body was completely frozen. And then he pulled back his right hand and smacked me hard in the side of my face. My head was knocked down against the pillow and I was paralyzed with numbing pain.
But then I felt my father's hands all over my breasts. He was pressing down hard on my breasts through my nightgown and pinching my nipples with great strength. As the pin from my face faded it was replaced by the pain coming from my breasts.
"Stop that," I murmured. "What do you think you're doing?"
"I'm finally getting some pleasure out of you, Lisa, that's what I'm doing."
He moved his hands down along my body and as his fingers passed over my pubic bush he slowed down and plucked at the hairs with his fingertips. Then he brought his hands down along my legs and moved his hands up along my thighs beneath my nightgown. When he reached my cunt he poked his thumbs against my pussy lips and then pried my labia apart and shoved his thumbs into my vagina. His fingers scraped along the insides of my cunt.
"Father, stop!" I loudly pleaded. "You must have lost your mind."
But now he didn't even respond to me. His look, his breathing, his actions were all animalistic.
Father pulled his thumbs out of my cunt and then reached up and pushed his thumbs between my lips. He pushed between my teeth and forced his thumbs right into my mouth. I gagged and then I bit down on his thumbs.
But father jabbed his sharp fingernails into the roof of my mouth and I opened my mouth wide. He pulled out his thumbs and then slammed the base of his palm against my forehead.
"If you can suck a nigger's cock," he told me, "you can suck your father's thumbs. But I'm not going to be content with that. I want you to suck my cock just like you sucked that nigger's cock. And I want you to beg the same way you begged to suck his cock. I want to come in your mouth and all over your face just as that nigger did."
And then he climbed up on the bed and straddled my chest. He was on his knees and it was simple for him to pull open his bathrobe and expose his fully erect cock. I was surprised, but also somewhat delighted, to see that father's penis was every bit as long and thick as Burton's. And father even had more pubic hair. Burton's balls had been almost bald whereas father's testicles - which were even larger than Burton's - were covered with long, curved strands. His bush completely covered his belly and there were thick clumps on the insides of his thighs as well.
"Eat this, you pig!" Father ordered, as he grabbed the base of his cock and waved it in front of my face. "You want to punish, huh? Well, two can play that game. Now, eat slut! Eat your father's cock!"
And with that, father heaved his hips forward until the meaty head of his penis passed right into my opened mouth. He kept pushing his penis into my mouth until his cock head actually traveled right into my throat. I thought I was going to throw up but suddenly father grabbed my chin and the top of my chin and closed my mouth. I realized that if I threw up I might choke to death so I managed to control myself.
Father placed his hands against the side of my face and began to pull my head back and forth and to draw his cock in and out of my mouth. Can you imagine, Doctor? He was fucking the mouth of his own daughter! And he was doing it like an animal. Slamming his cock right down into my throat and covering my face with his big nest of pubic hairs until I couldn't breath either through my mouth or through my nose. It was horrible, Doctor, just horrible!
Father sort of half whined and half grunted over and over again and he inserted his cock all the way into my face and held my mouth closed. His hard rod beat back and forth against the insides of my mouth and then he blasted fiery streams of gooey come down my windpipe. As he pulled his penis out of my mouth he continued to spurt his load onto my tongue and my upper palate.
Finally, father removed his prick from my mouth but he held onto the base of his cock and aimed his piss slit so that he ejaculated all over my forehead. He began to masturbate and he sprayed come all over my nose and the front of my face. The last drops of his load dribbled out of his piss slit and dropped down onto my lips.
He put his hands on my face and smeared his sticky semen all over my face. Then he cleaned his hands off with my long, dark blond hair and used my hair to remove all traces of his scum from his penis. When he was finished, father stood up and looked down at my face. "At last," he commented, "you've been of some use to me."
He turned and walked to the door. He opened the door but just as he was about to leave he stopped, turned to me again and said, "Now, get out of my house, Lisa, I don't ever want to see you again."
And then he walked out of my room without closing the door. I got up, cleaned off my face in my bathroom, got dressed, and threw some clothes into a suitcase. I left the apartment and headed back for the town where I go to college. I stayed with some friends for a while because the dorms were still closed for Christmas but then a friend of mine suggested that I come down here to see you. I've been staying at the apartment of another friend.
Well, Doctor, what do you think?
* * *
I told Lisa that it was too early for me to do anything but simply record the facts. I told her that she should come visit me again next week, before she went back to college, and she agreed.
INTERVIEW TWO
The next time I saw Lisa she rushed into my office, sat down in the chair, and immediately started talking. She told me something which I had never heard before during my entire career as a psychiatrist.
* * *
Doctor, I know this is going to sound insane, but after I left this office I called up my father and begged him to let me suck his, cock again. I just had to! I don't know why. I really don't. I just know that it seemed that I couldn't go on until I had tasted his salty meat and his come once again.
Well, doctor, father just laughed and then he hung up. I walked around and hoped that this weird desire would just fade away but instead it got stronger and stronger. I just couldn't take it anymore!
So I went to his office, rushed past the secretary, and walked right in. Father was talking to somebody on the telephone.
"Let me call you back," he said into the mouthpiece.
Then he said goodbye and hung up.
"Close the door, Lisa," father instructed me.
I closed the door and stood in front of his desk.
"What the fuck do you want?" He asked me.
His language greatly excited me. I was now hotter for the taste of his cock and his come more than ever.
"I want to suck you off again," I answered. "Right now. Please!" Father rubbed his chin and pondered.
"Alright," he replied at last. "But on one condition."
"What's that?"
"For now on, you go out only with boys whom I have either selected for you, or whom I approve of. If I tell you to get rid of a certain boy you must do it. And you must go out with any body whom I select for you."
"Yes, yes. I agree."
"And you must get rid of that nigger. I don't ever want you to ever speak with him again."
"That's alright, father. You were right. I really don't like niggers anyway. I was only using him to hurt you and mother. Just like you said."
And then, Doctor Lamb, father took off his pants and his underpants and propped his feet up on his desk. I climbed up on the desk, lowered my head, and have him an absolutely fantastic blow-job.
And I've been sucking him off steadily ever since over the Christmas vacation so that the office and at home when mom's not around.
Tell me, Doctor Lamb, is that sick? Tell me the truth.
CONCLUSION
That was a difficult question to respond to.
I didn't want to use the word 'sick' since that is not only a vague term but will not comfort the subject or help to heal her in any way. But it was necessary, of course, for me to make it perfectly clear to Lisa that her behaviour was unnatural and extremely unhealthy and must be stopped at once.
It seems to me that what we have here is a case of over-compensation. Lisa's need to hurt her parents had probably been the result of her childhood need to be properly chastised and disciplined by them. She wants to both punish them for their negligence and force them to now give her the required beatings.
Committing fellatio on her father is a substitute for the childhood punishment she never received and craved so desperately. But now that she's getting it in another form she cannot get enough.
What is more, she must keep up her perverse behaviour in order to keep her from having to face the horror of what transpired between her and her father. Once the intense desire to fellatiate him vanishes, the only thing left will be the memory of what happened. She does not want to have to deal with that memory so she just keeps recreating the experience.
But one I have convinced her to stop her incestuous activity I can begin therapy in which she will confront the memory and start to deal with the reality. However, to be frank, I'm not sure that I can get her to stop. So far, my efforts have not been successful.
CASE HISTORY SIX
SUBJECT: Elizabeth T. AGE: Twenty-Three
INTERVIEW ONE
The young woman who walked into my office on a bright, Spring afternoon was exceptionally beautiful. She was tall, statuesque, and built magnificently. She had long, slightly curled brown hair and wickedly beautiful green-blue eyes. Her nose was just large enough to lend her face character and a powerful, erotic quality.
She was also older than most of the female patients who come to me. Most of my patients, in fact, are girls whereas Elizabeth T. was a young woman. She had the air of a career woman without that jaded look which so many New York career woman seem to possess.
Because this woman was unlike the vast bulk of my patients, I suspected that her story would be unlike most of the stories which I hear. And I was right. What she was to relate to me was not the usual form of incest.
* * *
Doctor Lamb, up until last week there were nothing even remotely abnormal, much less incestuous, between my father and I. We had always liked each other as well as loved each other, and we did many things together even after I went away to college. And between myself, my father, and my mother there was a balanced and joyful relationship.
As for my sex life, well, I suppose that it was basically satisfying, though, I admit, not all that wonderful. I have had a number of men who were very good lovers but there had never been anybody that really turned me on all the way and brought me to the highest levels of sexual ecstasy. And I have never been in love with a man other than my father.
I suppose that's why, after graduating from college, I put so much of myself into my career. I started out as a copywriter at an advertising agency and I consistently worked fifty and even sixty hour weeks and turned out -- I say this without conceit - excellent material. In only two years I have risen to become an assistant account executive. Most people have to work years before they reach that position.
But, I will confess that due to my failure to establish a totally satisfying relationship with a man my life has not been complete. After work I roam the streets examining the men, searching for the one who will take control of my life and guide me into a world of physical and emotional fulfillment. But I haven't found that man yet.
Doctor Lamb, frankly I am aware of the fact that I am very beautiful and I doubt that the men I pass on the street would ever imagine how truly lonely I am. This may seem strange, but lately I have been so lonely that I have decided to be celibate. That's not a paradox. You see, I've found that as I establish more and more relationships with men who do not really end my loneliness, my loneliness just becomes more and more intense. So I have given up men until the perfect man comes along. Even though, in all honesty, I doubt that would ever happen.
All of what I've told you, Doctor, has a lot to do with what happened between my father and I. You see, it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't felt this urgent need to have sex with a man whom I really love. And since my father is the only man whom I have ever loved...
Well, I guess you get my point.
But, of course, my having sex with my father would not have occurred at all ha not contacted a malignant form of cancer. The cancer was in the form of a tumor in his brain and almost as soon as the doctors discovered it they told my father that he had only a few months to live. You see, the tumor was growing so fast that it was literally eating up my father's brain. Very tragic, I can assure you, since my father had quite a brain in his head.
And let me mention, Doctor, that my mother had died only a few weeks before this from a stroke. I had been visiting my father and eating out with him several times since then and I happened to be staying at his apartment for the weekend when he found out the news about his cancer. When he told me he was rather dispassionate about it but I started crying. I told my father that I would move in and take care of him but he adamantly refused.
I did visit him a great deal over the next several weeks and I gradually watched him become more and more feeble minded and more physically emaciated as well. His memory began to fade away and then his reason and then finally his muscular control. His appetite became all but non-existent.
Finally, I was obliged to move in with him but soon after that the doctors decided that he must be sent to the hospital for intensive treatment. They weren't very optimistic about the treatment but it had to be done. He had to be given every chance. So I agreed that he should enter the hospital.
I hoped and even prayed that he would get better but, looking back, I realized that even if the doctors had stopped the growth of the tumor there was no way that they could replace the destroyed portions of his brain. But I didn't think of that at the time.
Soon after this, I was not able to visit my father for a few days because I was working fifteen hours a day on a campaign for a new brand of mouthwash. I would sleep in the office and then get up the next day and start work again. We have a shower right in our offices.
When I was finally done with the campaign I immediately rushed over to the hospital. But I was not prepared for the sight which was before me when I walked into the private room. My father had shrunk up into a pathetic figure who was nothing more than a crumpled bag of skin which held some bones. They had shaved his head to drill through his skull and all together he looked like some kind of mutant being. He certainly did not look like a human being.
But the worst part, I think, was his eyes. His eyes were dead. When they were turned towards me there was no glint of recognition in those eyes. I wasn't even certain that he was seeing. And if he was seeing, I was positive that he was not very aware of w he was seeing. Before I had even spoken with him I knew that he had become a vegetable and that he didn't have more than a few days left to live. As I walked up to the bed tears were trickling out of my eyes and running down along my cheeks.
"Father?... " I uttered.
He didn't answer. He didn't even look at me. I placed my hand on his forehead and stroked his burning skin.
"Father, can you hear me?" I asked.
Finally he did look at me. But he still didn't seem to recognize me. He formed his lips as if to speak but it was several seconds before he actually did make any sounds.
"You... " He murmured. "You... are."
"I'm Elizabeth," I sobbed. "Your daughter. Don't you recognize me?"
"Lizzy?" He doubtfully replied.
"Yes!" I answered. He had used the nickname by which he had often called me since childhood. "Yes, it's me, Lizzy."
Father shook his head just a little.
"Who?" He asked. As if he had forgotten already. "Who are you?"
"It's me. It's Lizzy."
"Who?" He repeated. "Marie? Marie?"
"Marie, Doctor, was my mother's name."
I decided to try once more.
"Daddy, it's your daughter, Elizabeth. It's Lizzy, Daddy."
His face lit up with as much of a smile as he could manage.
"Marie," he said. "Marie, you came. I knew. I knew. Good. Good. I want... " He just became silent for about half a minute and I thought that he was gone from the world. But then he started talking again.
"Marie, I die. I die, Marie. I want... I want sex, Marie. But, can't. Just can't. Marie, 'fore I die... one last. One last. Can't do. Blow me, Marie. One last. One last. Blow me. I die."
I understood, of course. He thought that I was his wife, my mother, and he wanted me to perform fellatio on him so that he could have one last orgasm before he died. He was obviously aware enough to be sexually aroused but there was no way that he had the strength to engage in sexual intercourse. So the only alternative was oral sex.
There was nothing immoral or even indecent about this, Doctor, as far as I was concerned. My father thought that I was my mother. One would not consider it abnormal for a man to expect a woman whom he has been married to for more than forty years to perform fellatio on him in a hospital where he is dying when there is no other way for him to attain sexual satisfaction. In fact, such an act would be the correct thing for such a woman to do. But since my mother was not around to carry out this last wifely duty I realized that it was up to me to fulfill my father's dying wish. I was so filled with loving pity for him that I didn't even think about the fact that I would have my mouth on my own father's penis. It wasn't even a sexual thing for me, you must understand. I simply wanted to make my father happy before he died. There's nothing perverse in that. In fact, it was a very selfless sentiment on my part.
I stood up, went to the door, and closed it. Then I propped a chair beneath the doorknob. That wouldn't really keep anyone from getting in but it would hold them back long enough for me to rearrange myself. I went back to the bed and looked down at my poor, disintegrating father. He looked like he was no more than an upper torso sticking out of the top edge of the blanket. That's how thin he was.
I pulled the blanket all the way past his feet and then began to untie the cord which held together the bottom of his hospital pajamas. Then I pulled the top of his pajama pants apart. It was immediately obvious that that his corporal dilapidation had not effected his penis in any way. In fact, in relation to the rest of his shrunken body his instrument seemed inhumanly monstrous. And the enormous amount of thick pubic hairs which were clumped upon his belly, his testicles, and the bottom of his thick shaft were in stark contrast to father's bald head.
As soon as I grabbed the base of father's cock he became so excited that his body shuddered and his prick sprang up into a full hard-on. I was absolutely amazed. I squeezed his shaft and discovered that it felt like stone. Hot blood was rapidly coursing through the protruding blue veins beneath the tightly stretched skin of his erect pole.
I cupped my hands over his gigantic, hairy balls and then I lowered my head, parted my lips, and placed my mouth over his swollen, throbbing cock head. Father immediately began groaning passionately and he placed his right hand on top of my head and pushed my head down.
As my lips slid along the length of father's penis I tightened my lips so that his cock was sealed completely within my mouth. I pushed my face downwards until my lips were about halfway along his rod and he completely filled my mouth.
Then I sucked in my breath, concentrated, and pressed my mouth even further downwards until the tip of that tube of flesh went into my throat. I could feel that enormous head of his cock pressing against the skin of my throat.
Father's cock was now completely inserted within my face. My nose was pressing against his hairy belly and his pubic strands were stabbing into the skin of my face and up into my nostrils. My chin was pressed into the space between father's balls.
I pulled in my cheeks until my mouth was line a suction cup and then I drew my lips along father's penis until only his cock head remained within my mouth. I slid my lip down along his penis and then I began sucking away very rapidly and very forcefully. I intended to drain every single drop of my father's gism out of his loins.
It was incredible how stimulated my father became considering his condition. He wildly heaved his body up and down and he whined and whimpered just like a hungry baby. I just pulled the chair away from the door, left the hospital room and went home.
* * *
I told Elizabeth T. that under the unusual circumstances I didn't think that what she had done had been all that perverse. I even agreed with her that it was an act of charity and should not actually be considered as incest.
However, Elizabeth informed me that there was much more to the story than this and that the really perverse part had not yet been revealed. I informed her that I had other patients waiting outside and that she would have to return next week.
The tall, statuesque, brown haired beauty agreed and I bid her good day.
INTERVIEW TWO
When Elizabeth T. next came to my office she was wearing a pair of very tight blue jeans and a tight, pink pullover which distinctly outlined the shape and the bulkiness of her firm, protruding breasts. Many young ladies wear jeans these days but I have rarely seen such a gorgeous and statuesque women in them. I must admit that the sight of those long, long sleek legs and that taut ass stuffed into that tight, blue material greatly aroused me sexually. It took me several moments to re-assert my professional attitude over my masculine inclinations.
But I have been in this business for a while and at last I managed it.
As for the intensely sexy Elizabeth T., she sat down in the chair and immediately started discussing that which mostly concerned her at this moment.
* * *
Well, Doctor, last time I told you about how my father was lying in a hospital bed dying and how I gave him a blow job so that he would die happy. And I told you that he thought that I was my mother, Marie.
Well, the day after I left the hospital I got a call from a nurse over there and she said that I should come right over. I figured that my father had already died or was just about to die. But before I could ask exactly what the nurse hung up.
So I left work and immediately went over to the hospital. When I reached the door of my father's room there was a young doctor standing outside shaking his head from side to side.
"What is it, doctor?" I asked him. "Is my father dead? You can just tell me. I've been ready for it."
But the doctor just kept shaking his head for a while and then he said to me, "it's incredible. Absolutely incredible. I tell you it's a miracle, that's what it is. An outright miracle."
"What are you talking about? I asked. The doctor gestured towards the door. "Go see for yourself," he said. I opened the door and stepped into the room.
"Hey, Lizzy," said my father in a loud and healthy voice. "How's it going, kid?"
It was absolutely bizarre, Doctor Lamb. He didn't seem sick at all. Certainly he did not seem like a dying man. The color had returned to his face and he even seemed to have put on a little weight.
"F-father," I replied. "What's going on? How?... "
"Lizzy, it's religious, that's how. There's no other explanation, child. I have been saved by divine intervention. Come closer and I'll tell you all about it."
I walked right up to the bed and father took my hand in his. His grip was quite strong.
"Lizzy," father began, "as you know, up until yesterday I was a dying man. I wasn't even much of a man really, just a vegetable sitting inside what was left of a man's body. But then yesterday, I had a vision. I remember it all quite clearly. In the vision, Lizzy, your dear, departed mother came to me. And, well, that is what happened.' It might seem quite unbelievable to you, especially in light of all that has happened to you, but that was exactly what happened that night.
And most of all, my dear Lizzy baby, I don't want to disgust you, Lizzy, but I must tell you what happened. Your mother, or the ghost of your mother, performed fellatio on me. And now here I am fit as a fiddle and rearing to get back out into the world. I know it must seem like an odd way for the lord to work, but then again, what the hell do we really know about the universe?"
CONCLUSION
Frankly, I was not very certain that I believed this story of Elizabeth's entirely. First of all, call me a cynic if you will but I do not believe in purely religious miracles. And under the circumstances which Elizabeth described the so-called 'miracle' seems even more dubious.
I contacted the head of the hospital where Elizabeth's father is a patient. He happened to have gone to medical school with me and, what is more, is a very good friend. He told me that Elizabeth's father was indeed a patient at the hospital and that he did indeed have a cancerous tumor in his brain. But according to my friend the tumor was not malignant and very tiny and the brain surgeons didn't expect to have any trouble removing it. And the patient had never been on the verge of dying.
I was not surprised to hear this since it does not seem possible that her father's brain could be almost entirely 'eaten away', as Elizabeth claimed, and then he could attain full consciousness again.
So what is the real explanation?
I can only hypothesize that Elizabeth had long possessed incestuous feelings towards her father, and vice-versa, and that they finally fulfilled their mutual desires in that hospital room. Then, it order to hide the truth from herself, Elizabeth made up this tale about her fattier dying and about his 'vision'.
This explanation seems especially plausible since Elizabeth came to me for help. If she believed that there was no psychological problem involved then why go to a psychiatrist? It is possible that she unconsciously knows the truth and that she wants a psychiatrist to somehow reveal that truth to her conscious mind.
But now I must prove my hypothesis. I plan on attempting this through hypnosis. If my hypothesis is correct than the hypnosis may very well bring out the truthful memory from Elizabeth's subconscious mind. That will be the primary step in bringing it to her full consciousness.
From there on, we will have to depend on many private sessions, during which time the lovely young woman will have to realize her true feelings towards her father and her own sexuality.
CASE HISTORY SEVEN
SUBJECT: Christy O. AGE: Seventeen
INTERVIEW ONE
Christy appeared to me to be a very fearful girl and I suspected that she had been this way for a long time. She meekly walked into my office and I gestured at the chair but she almost backed away from it. I was obliged to somewhat forcibly instruct her to sit down before she actually did.
She was a very pretty girl with long, medium brown hair, dark blue eyes, and a slightly freckled face. She was dressed very simply in old, faded jeans, sneakers, and a blue Pull over which revealed a pair of firm and ample breasts. She was about five foot, six and slender. Despite her fearfulness she had a very healthful, outdoorsy appearance.
Christy turned out to be one of those patients who had to be prodded into telling me her problem. We discussed some inconsequential matters and then she started telling me her story. But then she suddenly stopped and we went back to perfunctory conversation. It went on like this for about a half hour before Christy finally just started telling me her story. Obviously it was just a matter of making her feel comfortable so that she could get over her fearfulness.
Once this had been accomplished she began to talk quite freely.
* * *
Doctor Lamb, I have always been the kind of girl who has never much cared for the life she is leading. Nothing in my life ever made me really happy and I wished that I was living somebody else's life. It didn't seem to me that I could ever be happy living my own life.
What I wanted more than anything else was some kind of magical guide to come along and change my life. I wanted to be led into a world of fantastic events. I wanted my guide to lead me through the world to strange and exotic places. Really, what I wanted was to become somebody else entirely and I thought that when this magical being came along he would enable me to become this other person. And traveling through the world with this guide would be the means of changing me. Since I said 'he' you know that I thought of my guide as a man. Sure, there was a kind of sexual thing involved here. The guide would be the man I would love as well as the man who would change my life. But I didn't really thing of him in a sexual way. I was more concerned about traveling than fulfilling sexual desires.
When I would think about this magical guide I would think about my older brother a lot. David had left home when he was seventeen and since then he had traveled all around the world. I knew this because occasionally we would receive letters from him from all different parts of the world.
Sometimes we would get a card from India and then six months later we would get a card from Argentina. Six months later a card from Alaska and then maybe a year after that a card from France.
It seemed to be that my brother must be in a state of constant movement. How he managed it I could not exactly imagine. All I did know was that he absolutely fascinated me.
David is eight years older than me so when he left home I was only nine years old. I could hardly remember what he looked like. We had some old pictures of him but I knew that he must have changed a lot since he was seventeen.
My greatest wish, after having the magical guide appear, was that David would actually come home to visit. It seemed to me that this would be the next best thing.
And then one day I came home from school and there was a note from my mother telling me that she would be working late so I should clean the house by myself. I wasn't too happy about it but I've always been the dutiful daughter type. So I wrapped a blue handkerchief around my hair to keep it in place and I went to work.
I was right in the middle of mopping the floor when there was a knocking at the door. I wondered who would be knocking instead of ringing. But I went to the door and opened it.
There was a tall, slender, dark haired man in his early or mid twenties wearing a pair of very dark sunglasses. He was dressed casually, but well, in a pair tailored pants, light brown shoes, and a brown shirt without buttons which was opened at the front to reveal a tanned hairy chest. His face and arms were very tanned too.
There was a traveling case on the concrete pathway next to the man. It was like a duffle bag only it was made out of tan material and it hand a handle along the side and it was very expensive looking.
The man didn't say anything. He just stood there looking at me but I couldn't see his eyes through the dark lenses.
"Yes?" I asked.
The man smiled wide and his white, even teeth were exposed. Even without being able to see his eyes it was a very pleasant smile. And a sexy one too. He took off his sunglasses to reveal a very beautiful pair of green-brown eyes and a pair of thick, brown eyebrows.
As soon as I saw those eyes and those eyebrows I knew who it was.
"David?" I asked, even though I knew.
"Yeah. I'm your brother, Christy."
I threw my arms around his and placed the side of my face against my chest. Then I looked into his eyes. David put his arms around me but he didn't really hug me. But it still felt good to have his long, strong arms around me.
"David, it's great to see you!" I excitedly told him.
He patted my back.
"It's good to see you too, Christy. It really is. To me, you're an entirely different person than the sister I remember. You're beautiful, Christy, I'll tell you that right now." I blushed.
"Oh, bullshit, David. But thanks anyway. I tell you something though, and this is no bullshit, you are an absolutely gorgeous man. You have such a nice face."
I stroked the side of his clean shaven face.
"And such smooth skin!" I added. "I'll tell you something, David. I'd like to kiss you on the lips."
"Well, go ahead," he told me.
"You know what, I think I will."
I pecked him on the lips. But then David pulled me back towards him and pressed his lips hard against mine. We kissed passionately for several seconds. He slid his lips back and forth across mine and I could taste the hot wetness coming out of his mouth. It was absolutely delicious, doctor. I wanted him to just go on kissing me forever and I just completely surrendered myself to him.
My body was now pressed against David's body and my breasts were squashed against his athletic chest. My vagina was rubbing against his thigh and I could feel my insides getting hotter and hotter. And it was definitely an erotic heat. I couldn't help myself from grinding my pussy lips against my brother's thighs.
Even as I was doing it I knew that it was wrong. I actually wanted to tuck my own brother! But I figured that he would be the one to take command of the situation in one way or another.
David pulled his lips from mine and smiled at me. He had the most wonderful smile I had ever seen. It made everything seem alright.
"Wow!" I said. "I don't know what happened."
"You were just greeting your brother who you haven't seen in eight years, that's all. There's nothing wrong with showing your sentiment."
He looked into the house.
"Is anybody else home?" David asked.
"Um, no. Mom will come back from work about five and dad'll be back about six."
I peered over David's shoulder at a tan colored, foreign sportscar. It looked really expensive, just like his clothes. There was a thin, silver aerial which was shaped in a curve and attached to the hood and the trunk. "Is that your car over there?" I asked.
"Yep."
"Holy Christ. How much does that cost?"
"Since you asked, thirty-eight thousand."
I glanced at the license plate. It had my brother's initials on it DAO. Then I looked him up and down again.
"Man," I remarked, "this sure isn't the way I thought you'd look when you finally came back. Not at all?"
David laughed slightly. "Why, what did ya' think I'd look like?"
"I kinda figured you'd be a scruffy looking traveler who'd hitchhike home with a dirty backpack. I figured you'd have really long hair and a scraggly beard. Instead your all rich looking and healthy."
I patted his flat stomach and. felt the muscles on his upper arms. "There's not a single bit of fat on you," I remarked. "You're built like a football player only not so bulky like an animal like they are. I think you've got the most fantastic body, Dave. I really do."
"Christy, the way you thought I'd look when I came home. That's the way I looked when I left home. I wouldn't want to travel through the whole world and then come back the same way. The world changed. I changed."
"You've been all over the whole world, haven't you!"
"Yeah."
"You've got to tell me all about it."
"Okay."
David took my hand and led us both into the house. I closed the door and then we went into the living room and sat down.
For the next hour David told me all about his travels through Europe and Asia and down to Australia and then over to South America. It turned out that most of his traveling had been in small sailboats. It all sounded so thrilling that I was, like, hypnotized, just by listening to him If he had asked me to just pack up some clothes and go traveling with him right there and then I would have done it.
"But, tell me something, David," I said to him. "All this time you were traveling how were you able to afford all of it. How could you afford to buy all those boats? Did you ever have to work? And where's you get all the money to buy that car. I mean, everything about you makes you seem really rich."
David paused for a few seconds. He seemed to be pondering something.
"Christy," he replied, "I'm going to tell you something right now. It'll make everything clear. But you must promise that what I tell you will be our own, little secret."
"I promise, Dave."
And then I just sat there and got ready to listen.
"Christy," David began, "I am a drug dealer. A big time drug dealer. I bring in tons and tons of marijuana and cocaine from Mexico, Asia, and South America. I transport it in sailboats, that's why I'm always sailing around the world. And I make millions of dollars from it."
My mouth dropped open.
"Wow," I softly expressed.
"I started out by bringing Hashish back from Afghanistan inside the hollow tube of my pack frame. I kept building up more and more connections until I met this guy who had an idea to bring all the dope back to a ship outside the territorial limit, repack it, and then bring it into the country in really fast speedboats. I hit on the idea of bringing it out of the countries where its grown and loading it into shallow draft sailboats that can beach in isolated places and don't require a lot of fuel to cover a long range. You see, a motor boat shallow enough to be beached couldn't carry that much fuel. And a large freighter traveling around to all of these places would attract too much attention. So me and this guy I told you about started a partnership and it's just been growing ever since."
"Wow", I repeated. "That's fantastic. That's like something from a story."
"But now, Christy, I want to take a shower."
"Oh sure," I replied. My brother went into the bathroom and while he was showering my mother came home. When he came out she got all emotional and put her arms around him and cried. She asked him a lot of questions about what he was doing in life and he made up a whole lot of really good lies.
When my father came home he also got really emotional and my brother repeated the same lies for him. Then we all ate the first dinner out whole family had eaten together in eight years. It was really nice.
But, I could tell that my brother wasn't completely enjoying his dinner. He had just led too adventurous a life to be able to get along with two suburban, middle-class people like my mother and father. He was bored my their conversation, their neurotic, little arguing, and their fussy ways. He had no patience or tolerance for that kind of shit.
But he was very pleasant throughout dinner and when we all went into the other room to watch television. I could tell that mom and dad were enjoying his company very much.
After the late news, David said that he was very tired and that he was going to bed. We all said goodnight to him and he went out of the room. When the late movie was over the rest of us went to sleep.
While I was sleeping a hand suddenly shook me awake. I opened my eyes and looked into my brother's eyes. I saw that he was all dressed.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"I'm leaving, Christy."
"But, you said that you were going to stay for two weeks."
"I just can't handle it here. I'm sorry. There's nothing wrong with mom and dad but they're just too different from me. And I don't feel comfortable in this house. I really like you, though, I want you to know that Not just because you're my sister. I really think that there's a lot of life in you and you give out feelings and take them in a very nice way. I love you."
David stroked my hair and then he moved his lowered his head and kissed me on the lips. I kissed him back and stroked him. But then he pulled away and stood up.
"I've got to go, Christy," he told me. "I just called up somebody I know and I found out that if I can make it to Barranquilla, Columbia in two weeks hell have a huge load of Columbian for me. But even if I take off tonight I might now make it."
"What do you mean, 'take off tonight'?"
"I've got my boat at a marina in Connecticut. At Stamford. I'll leave my car there and just pull out."
"Alone?"
"This boat's really not that big. A twenty-three foot sloop. I've handled bigger boats alone before. Well, Christy, goodbye. I want to see you again. I'm your brother, don't forget that."
He started to walk backwards towards the door.
"Wait!" I cried out in a hushed tone. "Take me with you, David."
I leaped out of bed, rushed up to him, and placed my hands on his shoulders. I was wearing nothing but a blue nightgown.
David looked down at my body and then he looked into my eyes.
"I don't think it'll work out," he replied.
"Why not?"
"Well, for one thing, do you know anything about sailing?"
I couldn't lie to him. I shook my head.
"And for another," he went on, "there's a considerable amount of risk involved. I can't expose my sister to danger."
"I don't mind. I really don't. In fact, I like the danger."
"You say that, but you don't really know. And besides, there's another factor."
"What's that?"
"It doesn't matter. It just won't work out. You've got to go to school on Monday. You can't just run off at seventeen."
"You did," I reminded him.
"That's true. But it's not the same. I don't like to be sexist but it is different because I was a boy. And I was even a different type of person than you, besides being a male. I could handle myself in the world, being egotistical, Christy. That's just the way it is. You're a sweet and gentle person. I like that. I love you for that. But those aren't the qualities an individual should have to take off from home at seventeen. You should go on to college and either start a career or get married. I know that might sound like a fucked-up thing the way I see it. I'm sorry, Christy."
He pulled away and walked backwards towards the door again. Then he turned around and walked into the hallway.
Right away I gathered up some clothes and ran after him. I followed him out of the house and over to the car. I walked up to the passenger side car and found out that it was unlocked. I opened it and got into the car.
David got behind the wheel and shut his door. I shut my door. Then we sat there in the front door looking at each other. "I'm not going to throw you out," he said. "But I am going to give you one last chance to change you're mind."
"I want to go," I told him. "That's all I want."
"Alright" David started up the car, threw the transmission into gear, and pulled out.
INTERVIEW TWO
Where was I, Doctor, the last time I was here? Oh, yes. I had jumped into my brother's expensive sports car and we took off.
Well, by the time we got up to the marina we were both feeling really close to each other. Like two thieves who are right in the middle of stealing something. We had stopped off at an all night grocery store and picked up some food and as soon as we parked the car we carried the stuff down to the boat.
That boat was really something, Doctor. She was really sleek and painted orange and blue. My brother showed me where to stow all the food and then we started to get underway. Pulling out of the marina at night was the most exciting thing which had ever happened to me. My brother started up the engine and turned on the running lights and I helped him cast off the lines. Then I joined him in the cockpit. He really looked impressive the way he was turning that big, silver wheel.
The 'Crystalline' -- that way the name of the boat -- cruised out of the marina and through the dark waters of the harbor until we reached the open waters of the Long Island Sound. Then I helped him to raise the sails and I helped him with the lines and whatever else had to be done whenever he had to work the sails. I guess I was probably more in his way than anything else but he didn't seem to mind.
And we just sailed on and on. I didn't know how to handle the boat by myself, and David was in a hurry, so just kept awake as long as he could. We sailed past land in the nighttime and were out on the open sea again when dawn came. David just continue! to sail 'Crystalline south along the coast until it became dark again. He kept drinking black coffee and taking hits of speed so that he wouldn't fall asleep. I myself had already been asleep from just after dawn to the middle of the afternoon.
But at about Eight O'clock, David' pulled into a small, but well protected cove and dropped anchor. He said that he would catch a few hours deep here. I was already sleepy again - I guess from the movement of the sea - and I went down below with him to the forward cabin where the V-berths were. Those were the only berths on board.
When we got into the forward cabin David took Off all of his clothes except his underpants and got under the cover. He said goodnight to me and then he seemed to go right to sleep. I took off everything except my bra and my panties and got into the other berth. I fell asleep right away.
But then I felt a hand shaking me. Once more, I opened my eyes and looked into my brother's beautiful, green-brown eyes. It was just turning dawn and I could see through the opened hatch that the sky was caught between the color black and a dark blue.
David stroked my hair and then he to my neck. He pulled the cover down past my belly button and then he slid his hand down along my neck and my chest and began to massage the top of my breasts. He dipped his fingers into the crevice between my breasts and then began probing with his fingertips beneath the cup of my bra.
"This was the third problem I told you about back at the house," David told me. "I just happen to be the kind of guy who gets very horny. And when I'm alone with a beautiful girl I can't resist."
He inserted his fingertips beneath the spongy material of my brassiere cup and moved his fingers over my left breast until his fingertips reached my nipple. He cupped his hand over my breast and squeezed my nipple between his fingers. Then he lowered his head and began to kiss my breast all over as he forced my breast out of the bra cup. When he had pulled my breast out of the cup he kissed my excited nipple several times and then he took my nipple between his lips and began to suck on it.
"Oh, David," I gasped, as I stroked his hair. "It's alright. It's alright. I'm yours. It's alright."
I sat up and unhooked the strap of my bra. I pulled my bra off of my shoulders and the cups dropped away from my breasts. David cupped his hand over my right breast and squeezed and rubbed my hanging mound of firm flesh while he kept on sucking my left nipple. I massaged his hairy chest and began to feed my breast into his mouth. He moved his lips over my breast until his mouth was stuffed with my tit flesh. He chewed on the firm skin of my breast almost as if he intended to eat it.
And then David raised his head, looked into my eyes, and brought his lips' to mine. He kissed me on my lips and I kissed him back as hard as I could. When he probed with the tip of his tongue against my lips I opened my mouth and eagerly took in his tongue. I sucked on his tongue and drew his saliva into my mouth. David cupped his hands over both my breasts and squeezed and pinched them rather hard.
My loins were burning and aching with desire for him and I squirmed my hips all about. David laughed slightly and he moved his hand down along my stomach and inserted his fingertips beneath the band of my panties. He wove his fingers through my fur and kept pushing his hand further and further down until he found the lips of my cunt. He worked his finger between my pussy lips and then shoved his finger into my hole until he met up with stiff resistance. I could feel his fingernail jabbing into my hymen.
David looked up into my eyes. But he did not remove his finger from my cunt.
"You're a virgin," he remarked.
I was terrible afraid that he would be angry with me. I knew I had to do something to prevent his becoming angry. That would have ruined the wonderful journey we were taking together.
So I got up on my knees, leaned down, and kissed my brother's muscular belly. Then I kissed my way down along his body until I reached the band of his underpants. I inserted my long fingernails beneath the band and pulled his underpants away from his tummy. When I looked down, I could see a huge clump of long, dark hairs and the thick rod which hung between his legs. My brother pushed his underpants down past the tip of his penis and his immense cock sprung up into the air. It was already hard and it was really long and thick. And his cock kept moving up and down and from side to side like one of those divining rods when it finds water.
I bent my head and kissed his pubic hairs. I pushed my lips through his bush until my lips pressed against the skin of my brother's belly. Then I opened my mouth, stuck out my tongue and licked my way down through his hairy jungle until the tip of my tongue was pressing against the stony base of his cock. The taste of his meat was salty and deliciously masculine.
David murmured with delight and placed his hands on top of my head.
"Take my cock into your mouth," he told me.
I pulled back my head until my face was just above the head of his penis. I licked the tip of his cock several times and then I placed my mouth over his throbbing cockhead and completely enclosed it within my mouth. I worked my gums and my tongue upon that mass of hardened flesh until I had covered it was my saliva. I wanted to literally eat the head of his cock, to chew up his meat and then swallow it.
"Suck now," my brother further instructed. "Suck it up good and hard."
I tightened my lips upon the taut skin of his penis and then moved my head down until about half of his rod was within my mouth. Then I began to rapidly move my lips up and down along his cock and to suck upon him as I would on a piece of candy. That enormous r cylinder of masculine meat felt so good stuffed into my face like that and a sensation of contentment swept through me.
And then my brother suddenly pushed down on the back of my head. I did not resist as my strained mouth was guided along his shaft but when the head of his cock was stuffed into my throat I gagged and thought that I was about to throw up. My brother's sharp pubic hairs cut into my face and I could feel the wrinkled skin of his balls upon my chin.
David laughed and then he pulled his cock out between my lips until only his cock head remained in my mouth.
"That's alright," he said. "That's too much for you for now."
I kissed it tenderly. He placed his hands against my forehead and pushed me down on the bed. Then he reached down and started to remove my panties. I raised my ass up off of the berth and David slid my panties down my ankles. Then he slid down his underpants and kneeled before me with his huge cock sticking up straight and stiff from his belly. He studied my naked body and then he placed his hands on my ankles.
David moved his hands up along the legs and then he teasingly danced his fingertips along the insides of my thighs until he reached my vulva. He walked his fingertips across the hairy, outer lips of my cunt and over to my tender and much narrow inner lips. He pried my inner cunt lips apart until the mouth of my pussy gaped open, ready for penetration.
I raised up my hips and spread my legs wide until my right leg fell off of the berth. David shuffled forward on his knees and directed his cock so that the tip of his meaty rod pressed into the opening to my vagina. A tingling, erotic sensation swirled through my loins and then traveled out through my entire body.
David placed his hands over my body and then lowered his body and- thrust his hips forward. His cock head wrenched my pussy lips further apart than they had ever been before and then he pounded his cock deeper and deeper into my narrow, unyielding vaginal cavity until he met stiff resistance of my hymen.
I gritted my teeth and awaited the expectant pain. David pulled his cock out of my cunt almost entire and then drove his rock hard penis into my slit with a supreme burst of power.
The tip of David's cock rammed through my hymen and a fiery pain raged through my loins. I screamed loudly but David kept sliding his vibrating penis in and out of my cunt as he groaned and growled like some kind of wild animal. My cunt became filled up with hot liquid and I could hear a squishy sound coming from between my thighs as David pumped his rod in and out of my cunt.
It took a while for the pain to pass but when it finally did I immediately become aware of how wonderful it was to have the beautiful and wonderful man's cock scraping along the insides of my cunt; And his body felt so good on top of mine. I wrapped my arms around his strong back and before I knew it I was groaning and growling almost as loudly and as savagely as my brother David and I became locked together within a capsule of ecstasy and our bodies rocked back and forth not only in harmony with each other but in harmony with the movement of the water as well. It was incredibly magical and wonderful and my body just opened up and released all of the juices within my loins. As the juices poured out of me, erotic pleasure poured into me. .
I heard my brother began to to' snort and wheeze and a moment later this awesome spasm of ecstasy surged through my body. I wasn't even able to speak or utter any kind of sound. It was like sharp flames of pure pleasure cutting right through my center.
And then I felt the drops of my brother's come splattering all over the insides of my cunt. He just kept sliding his huge cock in and out of my cunt and pumping this amazing amount of hot, gunky gism into my slit. I looked up and watched him fuck me and I could see his glistening shaft tremble as the semen passed through it. It was strange to see my brother's thick rod entering into my hole and then passing out again but it was delightfully exciting. I exerted the muscles in my loins and gripped David's gliding penis with my vagina. As the last bit of my pussy juices were wrung out of my cunt I could them the syrup drain out along David's shaft and drip onto his hairy balls and onto the mattress of the berth.
When my brother had spent himself an expression of relief came over his face and then he pulled his cock out of my cunt and leaned his back against the hull. He closed his eyes and breathed hard and fast for more than a minute. Then he turned his head and looked at me.
I knew then that I was hopelessly in love with my own brother, but not in the usual way of brothers and sisters. I thought of him as my man. As my lover. And I wanted to fuck him again and again. And I wanted to taste that huge, meaty cock of his within my mouth.
Well, Doctor, we cruised on down to Columbia and we just kept fucking and sucking the other ones made. During this, the woman that Jim called to, would sit at his feet, and lightly play with his balls, while he watched the love sessions.
Well, after all the men had fucked, Jim would point to women to make love with each other. This is something I had never done before, even though I'd been in a few orgies. But, for Jim's sake, I would eat pussy. Jim especially enjoyed watching. He wouldn't let the other men watch, though. After they fucked, they got to leave with the women they had fucked. That woman would be his for the rest of the night, to do with what he "wanted. So, it was a real disappointment to have to fuck one of the men, because then, you'd miss the rest of Jim's celebration.
Anyhow, Jim . would watch the women eating and playing with each other. Then, as soon as his cock got real big again, he would have one or two women of his choice fuck or suck or fondle him. It was a great honor, you can imagine, to be one of those women. We all worshipped Jim.
Well, after about a year and a half of this, Jim announced that he was sick of the old routine, and he was going to institute better love meetings. We were all excited. We wondered what could be better than what we usually did. But, we all wanted to give Jim as much love as we could.
Well, the next special love gathering, we were all standing around in our special seductive clothes, waiting to hear what Jim wanted us to do. He said, "I'm tired of those frilly night gowns and underwear. I've had new clothes made for you. These are more seductive."
All of us women, for the men, of course, were in plain suits, were excited. Like all women, who are an inferior sex, but need their silliness, according to Jim, we loved to get new clothes. We stood giggling excitedly, until the helpers came in bringing our new stuff.
Jim had gotten us all sorts of chain outfits. They were strange to put on. They squeezed our tits and our asses between their cold metal links. Some women had to wear chains between their legs. Some had chains going between their teeth.
Then, there were some rubber things. Some women had to wear masks over their heads, like close-fitting hoods, with zippers or holes where the eyes, nose and mouth were. If there was a zipper, she had to keep it closed until Jim let her open it. Some of the masks didn't even have opening for the eyes.
There were also rubber things to fit over nipples, and into the cunt and ass holes. Well, every woman got a different combination to
*** NOTE: The text of the actual paperback ended right there. ***
CASE HISTORY EIGHT
SUBJECT: Laurie AGE: Sixteen
INTERVIEW ONE
As soon as Laurie walked into my office it was visibly obvious that she was psychologically shattered and that she had been through some kind of harrowing experience. She was shaking uncontrollably and - she kept staring at the window. I had to get up and maneuver her into the chair in front of my desk.
Laurie was an extremely sexy girl. She had long, brown hair and brown eyes and the kind of looks which immediately made one think of her in a sexual sense. Exactly why I cannot say. But I do know that it was hard to keep myself from thinking about the vast, furry, brown pubic bush which I imagined was between her thighs.
Yes, even psychiatrists have such thoughts about their patients! We would be abnormal if we did not and therefore not fit to treat patients. But as long as I am able to push those thoughts out of my mind I continue to be a professional.
But, in this case, it was not easy. And it did not help that Laurie also possessed a pair of large, hefty breasts which protruded beneath her tight, brown sweater. And when Laurie crossed her legs -- she was wearing a brown skirt - I glimpsed a pair of smooth and creamy taut thighs. That glimpse didn't help my situation either.
However, after discussing various inconsequential matters with Laurie for a while I did manage to push all sexual thoughts in regards to the girl out of my mind. Perhaps she sensed that because at this point she began talking freely about her terrible, incestuous experience with her brother.
* * *
I am the kind of girl that guys look at and right away they think, hey, I'd like to fuck that girl. It's been that way with me since I was about fourteen.
And it's especially that way with my breasts. Everytime I walk by a bunch of guys at school I can hear them whisper things like, 'hey, look at the tips on that broad'.. That really disgusts me.
I really hate that, Doctor Lamb. I really hate being nothing more than a sex object. I don't want to be thought of as just a body to fuck. I want people to see me as who I am. I want guys to think of me as Laurie T., not as some really sexy girl with big tits. That's like being de-humanized, if you know what I mean.
And I know that guys are always thinking of me in that way. No matter what they might say to me or how they act when they're around me I know that's what they're thinking. It gets to be a hassle because I'm afraid to ever be alone with a guy, or especially with a group of guys. I would like to go out and do things with guys like maybe go camping or boating but I'm afraid that once they get me alone they'll start thinking about fucking me and then pretty soon they'll start pulling me down to the ground or something and just rape me.
That's why I never used to go anyplace with a bunch of guys unless my older brother, Tom, would go to. I figured that my brother would be able to talk the guys out of something like that or, if things really got heavy, he could protect me. He's really tall and broad shouldered and muscular and he could beat the shit out of three normal guys if he wanted to. But he wouldn't do anything like that just for the hell of it because he's really gentle and nice.
At least, I thought he was until last week. What happened last week has completely changed my opinion about my brother. And that's just what I want to talk to you about, Doctor Lamb.
Last week, my brother and a bunch of his friends came over to the house. It was Spring Vacation and they were all home from college. I knew most of the guys and they were all pretty good guys. I'd always wanted to hang around with them but I guess you already know why I didn't. Sometimes they used to ask me to go into the woods to this old, abandoned shack and get high, but I was afraid to.
"You see, even though all these guys were the same age as my brother, he had been in a special acceleration program at school when he was little so he was two grades ahead of them. That meant that he had gone on to college when all of these guys were still in their sophomore year at high-school. And up until now my brother had never come home for Christmas or Spring vacations because he used to go to visit this girl who lived upstate somewhere. He told me on the phone once that he went to her parent's house instead of bringing her down here because both her parents were really old and he could go downstairs to her bedroom and fuck her all he wanted, and my parents would freak out if anything like that ever went on in their house.
So for two years my brother had not been home so I could not hang around with these guys because he would not be there to protect me. But now my brother and his girlfriend had broken up so he was home for Christmas. I was really happy about it. I went into my brothers bedroom where him and all his friends were and they were really nice in how they talked to me because my brother was there. One of the guys asked me if I wanted to go out to that old hut in the woods to smoke some dope and right away I said yes. I got my coat and we all left the house and headed into the woods. We walked for about three miles and crossed a brook before we saw the cabin. Then we went over to it and went inside.
It was pretty nice in there. The wooden floor was kinda busted up but the hut was nice and clean. We all sat down on the floor with our backs against the wall, right near each other, and one of the guys whipped out a joint. We passed around the joint and we all toked on it until it was finished.
Somebody else whipped out a joint and we passed that one around and smoked it too. Then my brother whipped one out and we did that one up real quick. Then we all did up one more.
The dope was really good and I got so high that I didn't know which sounds I was hearing were real. Everything all around me looked weird and I felt like I was just floating in the air. I had never been that high before in my life. I didn't feel like I was in control of myself anymore.
But I felt okay because I knew that my brother was still there. I looked at him and smiled and she smiled back at me.
Then I noticed that all of the guys were also looking at me and smiling. And they all kept looking back at my brother too. Something strange seemed to be going on but I figured that it was just some kind of paranoid effect from being so high. I tried to push it out of my mind.
But they all just kept looking at me and then looking back at my brother. I wondered what the hell was going on. Tom stood up and came over and sat down next to me. The guys and they all laughed hysterically. I was the laughing stock of the office for an entire month. I decided after that to never tell anybody what went on at my shrink's, even if it was unusual. Especially, if it was unusual.
Well, I returned to my shrink for my second appointment, and this time I knew that I was supposed to talk. I began to tell the shrink about my childhood, as that's what my friends had told me was what shrinks liked to hear. I guess you hear that a lot, Doctor, huh? Please, how can I talk to you when you're doubled over with laughter!
Anyhow, I told him about my childhood. I told him that I was toilet trained at a very early age. He finally said something. He said, "How do you feel about your bowels?"
I was a little taken aback, but finally I said, "Well, I guess I'm a little prudish about them, if that's the right word. I don't like people to know when I have digestive problems, and stuff like that. I never let guys that I'm sleeping with touch my ass hole."
He said, "I see. You are extremely inhibited about your anal and urinal functions."
I said, "Well, I wouldn't say extremely inhibited."
He said, "Don't fight the analysis, Diane." Well, then he said to me, "Diane, I have learned a new type of therapy at the institute.
You seemed to be fighting the older, non-directive method. So, maybe you would like to try something else, yes?"
I thought it was a bit hokey that he was putting on a German accent all of a sudden, but I said, "Sure. Whatever you think would be best for me."
He said, "Good. See, you've lost a lot of your aggressive reaction already."
So, the shrink began his new program. First on his agenda was my anal problem. He said that I had resolved my oral difficulties at their proper age. You see, I'm not at all obsessed about eating, and I don't smoke, or talk too much, or anything, throw up a lot, you know.
But, my shrink said that I did have a serious anal complex. He set out to resolve it through this new therapy of his. I was game. I had so much respect for his, and your, professional calling.
You know, Doctor, I would let him do anything. It was all just therapy to me. So, anything could be excused. After all, if my senior editor went to a shrink to confess her deepest traumas, and her sexual desires for her father and her sister, for instance, shrinks were special people. They couldn't be judged by normal standards.
Well, my shrink wouldn't have fit into any normal standards. This is how he proposed we "Tom, there's all these other guys around!"
"That's alright, Laurie, you don't have to answer. I already know. You are a virgin. Everybody knows that you are."
"Tom, that is really digesting. I never would have thought that you would speak such words to me."
"Laurie, let me ask you something," my brother went on. "What do you think it is that makes you so special."
My brother was rubbing my vulva harder and harder and pressing his palm against my labia minor. I'm sure you know what that is because you're a doctor. Then he stuck the tip of my finger right into the slit in the crotch of my pants. His finger was right over the opening to my vagina. "Tom, what are you talking about?"
"You know what I'm talking about. What makes you so special that your body has to remain pure. You know that you just happen to have a sexy body. Why should you deprive guys of the use of your body? What are you, a saint or something?"
"Tom, why are you saying these things?"
"Because I sick to death of fucking bitches who know they've got beautiful bodies and just use them to torment guys. That's evil, Laurie, really evil. It's an injustice that must be corrected. And I'm going to start my correcting with you."
Suddenly, Tom pulled the button at the top of my jeans out of the snap. Then he started to pull down my zipper. As he did he moved his finger down along the front of my panties and felt the hairs of my pubic mound. I guess I really was high because I did get a certain kind of sexual thrill from feeling him touch me there even though this whole thing was so perverted.
"Tom, stop that!" I begged him. "Stop it right now!"
But he didn't stop, Doctor Lamb. He pulled my zipper down all the way and then he started tugging my jeans over my hips. As he pulled on my jeans he also pulled down my panties until some of my pubic hairs were uncovered. Tom ran his fingers through those hairs and rolled the strands between his fingertips.
"Oh, my God!" I shrieked. "I've got to get out of here!"
I tried to get to my feet but Tom placed his big hand over my face and pushed me down to the floor. Then he suddenly grabbed my jeans and pulled them all the way down to my thighs. My panties came down until almost all of my pubic bush was uncovered.
And then all of the guys in the hut jumped up and came over to me. Soon there were hands all over me. My sweater was pulled up over my head and just left there while somebody unhooked my bra strap. As my sweater was pulled off of me so was my brassiere and soon there were several pairs of hands all over my breasts, squeezing and pinching my breasts and pulling at my nipples.
My brother had stood up and taken a hold of my pants legs. He removed my sneakers and then he pulled my pants off all the way. He reached for my panties and slid them down to my ankles.
"Doctor, how could my own brother have been doing this to me. How? How! Tell me, Doctor! How! How! How!"
Obviously Laurie was becoming hysterical and I decided that she should not go on with her story at this point. But she soon calmed down and I decided that it would not be necessary to give her a sedative.
However, I did think that we should wait a few days before we continued. So I sent her home and told her to return in three days.
INTERVIEW TWO
Yes, Doctor, you were right, it wasn't a good idea for me to keep on telling you about what had happened in that hut. I couldn't control myself because it was like I was re-experiencing what had happened.
But now I can talk about it as if I was just there observing what had happened. So I'm much calmer now. I'm looking at what happened like an outsider.
Anyway, let me just go on.
I told you that my brother and his buddies had undressed me. So there I was on the floor of that hut naked, helpless, and surrounded by all those guys. I was frightened, doctor, terribly frightened.
I looked up at my brother's face. I couldn't believe that he would do me any harm. I felt certain that he would not be able to look me in the face while he committed a perverted act against me.
But as my brother kept looking at me he started to unbuckle his belt. Then he unbuttoned his pants, pulled down his zipper, and pushed his pants down to his ankles. Then he slid his underpants down to his ankles too. I couldn't belief that I was looking at my brother's cock. But I was and it was already hard and all straight. I hadn't seen my brother's cock since we had been little kids and it had grown until a great, big thing. I don't believe that any guy could have a bigger penis. I never could get my fingers around that pole of his, that's how thick it was. And it was so long that it reminded me of the time I saw a donkey's penis at a farm. I swear, Doctor, that Tom's cock was well over a foot long.
And the knob at the tip of his cock was even thicker than the rest of his penis! It was a great, big chunk of red flesh. And it kept bulging outwards like when you roast a marshmallow in a campfire.
I felt for sure that my brother might tear my guts if he stuck a thing like that into my narrow slit. And even if I did not die, I knew that it would be real torture to have such a long and wide pole go into my vagina when I had never had sexual intercourse before in my life. I didn't even want to think what the pain would be like.
"Oh, don't!" I screamed. "Please, no! Tom, you'll kill me! You'll kill me!"
I tried to get up but the guys held me pinned to the floor by my arms and my legs. The spread my legs far apart and I felt so vulnerable with the entrance to my vagina opened all the way like that. Several of the guys leaned their heads over and looked right at my cunt. One of them even pinched my pussy lips and shook them from side to side.
Tom got down on his knees and grabbed the base of his penis. He aimed the tip of his cock at my hairy hole and started moving towards me.
"No," I murmured. "No, don't. Please, Tom. Think what you're doing. No, don't. No! No! No!"
The guys raised up my legs and then they lifted the whole lower part of my body off of the floor. I felt like nothing more than an animal in a farm who is about to be fucked for breeding purposes. And there was nothing I could do. Nothing. Tom rammed the tremendous knob of his penis into the opening to my vagina and I could feel the heat of that hard flesh. He squirmed his hips from side to side and forced his thick instrument into my tight hole. I was already moaning from the pain but he just kept forcing his cock further and further into me without any consideration whatsoever.
I think at this point I just resigned myself to what was happening. I couldn't stop myself from expressing painful feelings but I didn't bother to bed or try to get up. I just lay there and let my brother do what he was compelled to do.
He drove his cock deeper and deeper and deeper into my hole until the tip of his penis was pressing against the thick seal within my womb. I geared myself for what I knew was coming.
And I wanted what was coming.
GENERAL CONCLUSION
So, we see that the submission on women is an increasing phenomenon. Some women want to be dominated, some like to prostrate themselves, and give themselves totally to a man that they admire. Others are unwilling partners in their man's domination fames.
I feel that consenting submission can often be a good way for a woman to find her identity in this increasingly confused world. Who are we to deny a woman her psychological well-being, even if that involves letting herself be totally dominated by her man. If a woman seeks her happiness by letting her man beat her skin raw, by letting him bind her with cutting chains, that's her prerogative. If she likes to eat her man's shit, if she lets him dribble his piss as well as his come all down her naked body, that's her choice. I can not say it's wrong if it makes her happy.
However, if she does not consent to it, she has every right to fight back, to run away, and to take the man to court. Everyone must find their own way to happiness, but not by infringing on anyone else's happiness. After all, these men that want to dominate can easily find a woman who would gladly submit to them.
