I grew up in the woods of Pennsylvania, the eldest daughter of Rupert and Erin Simms. I had one younger brother, Timothy-he was the most adorable little sibling. Our parents were normal rural parents. Sundays we'd all attend service like all the other families in the area, Mom was an active member of the church choir. We were everything you'd expect from the average American family. That all changed during the winter of my fourteenth year. Mom got stricken with cancer, at the young age of 36. I had just turned 18 years old, and Timmy was 3. It was now only us two kids and dad. When Mom died, we all took it really hard. But we never really shared our grief together, as a family. Timmy was only 3, so he was too young for her death to really impact him, and as for Dad, well, he just got really moody, and spent most of his time outside the house. While he had never really been the warmest father to us, even while Mom had been alive, he was almost distant now. Many nights, he would come home drunk, the smell of booze and cigarettes all over his clothing. For the most part, it was just me and Timothy at home. I wound up having to do most of the housework.
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I was only 18 then, and most of the times, it was just us two fending for ourselves. My body started to really develop about the time I turned fifteen. I think Dad also became aware of my development then, because I began to notice him eyeing my chest-at first furtively, but then more and more openly as time went on. We were never really a cuddling type of family, so I knew things weren't quite okay when he started asking me for hugs, or when Timmy and I would be watching a movie in the living room, and he'd walk in, sit on his couch, and pat his lap and ask for his little girl to sit in Daddy's lap. A few months after my fifteenth birthday, I'd come home from school to find him still there, snoozing on the couch with a newspaper and an opened can of beer. Usually, he would have left for work about a half-hour earlier, and I would come home to find Timmy sleeping. I would usually do my homework and cook dinner for Timmy and me. Dad usually got home around midnight. For some reason, he was hadn't left for work today. It turned out that his construction company had laid him off for drinking on the job. Well, from that point on, he was at home a lot of the time. After a few weeks, I started getting worried about when he would find a job, and then the weeks turned to a month. When we were really low on money for groceries, I finally got up the courage to ask him if he'd found a job yet, since we needed money for groceries. Rather than reply, he'd reached into his pocket and tossed a check at me, before turning back to the television and his can of beer. It was an envelope, containing a welfare check for the month of July.
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With Dad hanging around the house all the time now, I began to feel more and more uncomfortable with his roving eyes. He started commenting frequently on how I'd grown into such a fine woman; meanwhile his eyes would be staring at my chest or my buttocks. He took to finding opportunities to brush against me 'accidentally'. Once, after dinner, while I was washing the dishes, he came up behind me, asking if I needed help with the dishes. Before I could refuse, he'd slipped his arms under mine from behind, and was pressed up against me, so that I had to lean forward toward the sink. With a start, I could feel the heat of his groin right up against my buttocks. I remember gasping, and him chuckling, as he gave a quick grind of his groin against me. Then he'd left the room. By the time I turned sixteen, my father had still not found a job. Every now and then he'd go for interviews, just to satisfy the welfare agencies, to show them he was earnest in trying to find employment, but he stayed unemployed, and lounged around at home. Dad became less subtle in his overtures toward me. Frequently, he'd comment on how nicely my chest was filling out, or he'd eye my crotch with such intense scrutiny right in front of me. At every opportunity, he tried to cop a feel of my breasts, or grope my buttocks, always trying to make it seem like an accidentally. "Dad, I'm trying to doing homework. .
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. " or "Dad. . . I need to cook dinner. . . " These became my frequent excuses to get him to stop. However they became less and less effective. As the months went by, he started getting bolder and more demanding. Once, on a Friday night, while watching TV after dinner, after Timmy had gone to bed, he said "Jane, come here and sit on your Daddy's lap. I haven't hugged my little girl in such a long time. "The way he said it, in that tone of voice, I knew he wouldn't take no for an answer. I remember walking reluctantly over to him, and then facing away from him, gently seated my right buttock on his left thigh, so that I was only partially up against him. Even then, I could feel his hairy thighs against mine, since I was wearing shorts at the time.
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What came next was a shock for me, since he had never done anything so obviously sexual before. I remember gasping out loud, startled, almost losing balance, when suddenly, his thick hands were encircling my hips. Chuckling, he lifted me high and up and twisted me around until I was facing him, with my legs to each side of him. Grunting appreciatively, his hands still tight around my waist, he pulled me downward onto him, settling my pelvis down right against his, so that our crotches were fused together. Now, both my legs were to each side of his legs, so that I was in effect, straddling him. Gasping in fright, I tried to lift myself off of him, but I had no purchase to push against. My feet were off the floor, and when I braced my arms across the arms of the couch to lift myself, he just pulled down on my hips, settling me down again. "Now that's a good girl," he moaned, as he grounded himself against me. Through his boxer shorts and my own shorts, I could feel the hard bulge of his manhood. As he crushed my crotch against him, he began humping back and forth. With each forward push of his hips, he'd pressed down on my hips, so that I could feel his bulge through the thin material of our clothing. "Daddy! Let me go! I'm too old to be sitting on your lap! Please!" I whispered frantically, in tears. I didn't want to wake up Timothy, but I was scared to death. "Soon. .
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. baby. . . soon. . . " his words began to come in gasps, as his buckling quickened in pace. In embarrassment, I could feel his penis through his shorts. It felt huge. His constant rubbing caused a wedgie in my own shorts, and I could feel my panties riding up into my crotch, between my lips. After maybe a minute of heated crotch grinding, he groaned loudly. His hands came up behind my back, pressing our bodies close together. I could feel my breasts mashed flat against his massive chest, even as he gluing our crotches together. The large bulge of his manhood, which I could feel pressed through the thin material of my shorts and his boxer shorts, was wedged right up against my crotch.
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Stunned, I could feel it throbbing wildly, as if it had a life of its own. I could feel the heat of his groin through the thin layers of clothing, as it spasmed. Groaning, he held me motionless against him, while he finished his orgasm. After a few minutes, his grip on me slackened, as he exhaled noisily, leaning back onto the couch. Sobbing, I remembered scrambling off his lap, and running up the stairs to my room, and quickly locking the door behind me. It was only when I was inside, huddled on bed, that I realized my entire crotch area was all damp. I knew from the sex education classes at school what had happened, but the reality of it didn't make it any more palatable. Removing my shorts, I examined my panties. They were soaked wetly with my dad's cum too, so that they looked sheer, making my enflamed vaginal lips visible. I remember thinking that I had my father's sperm soaking through my shorts and panties, and my crotch was now damp with it. Scared, I rushed to the bathroom and wetted a towel to wipe myself clean. The next day, Dad acted like the whole thing had never happened. And as far as I was concerned, it didn't either. Incidents like these, I learned to put in the back of my mind. These incidences didn't stop though.
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Rather, they became more and more frequent. He might be passing by me in the hallway, then without warning, he would reach forward with one hand, cupping my crotch and wriggling his fingers through my pants to massage me down there. Or other times, when I'd come out of the bathroom cloaked in a towel, he'd be there waiting, eyeing me. As soon as I walked passed him, he would pull on my towel, leaving me naked in the hallway. I always ran into my room then, amidst his chuckling. Thankfully, he never pursued. I learned then to take my showers when he was asleep, or he was outside the house. The months went by. Summer approached, and I neared the completion of my junior year of high school. I continued to do fairly well in school, usually getting all A's with an occasional B in phys ed. or music. I didn't have any close friends. To be honest, I didn't want any. I couldn't invite them over for fear of them seeing my Dad, and I didn't have any time to hang around after school, because I had to watch Timmy. Dad's perverse little games continued.
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Things got worse when he began subscribing to all these smut magazines. I remember the first time I came across one of his porno mags, wrapped up in some brown paper. I'd been curious about it, but seeing that it was addressed to my father, and that it wasn't a household bill that I had taken the responsibility for writing checks for, I left it alone. Later the next day, coming home from school, I found the opened magazine, sprawled across his belly as he lay snoring on the living room couch. Curious, I tiptoed to the edge of the couch, leaning forward to take a closer look. "Family Taboos" the title read. Across the front cover, I could see a picture of a young brunette girl, who looked to be in her mid-teens, on all fours on a bed. Towering behind her, an older man had his arms clasped around her waist. He looked to be rutting into her. "Exclusive photos of father-daughter incest!" the banner read across the cover, artfully shielding the nipples of the girl. I must have been staring at the cover for a long time, because the next thing I know, when I finally took my eyes off the page, I glanced up to find him staring right back at me. I could feel myself burning red, embarrassed at having been caught looking at his filth. He gazed at me with an amused look for a brief moment. "So, did you like looking at Daddy's magazine? Does it get you all hot and bothered?" he chuckled?Furious at myself at having gotten caught, and hating him with a vengeance, I turned around to leave, but his hands quickly shot out, gripping my wrist tightly. Sitting upright on the couch, he yanked me by the wrist, pulling me onto his lap.
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"It's okay, Daddy's not angry at your for reading his stuff. In fact, I wanted to show you something I'm sure you'll find very nice. " his voice had turned thick. With one arm around my waist, holding me onto his lap, he flipped the magazine over to the centerfold page with his free hand. "Take a look at this here, Janey," he said, placing the open magazine on my lap. Anything to get this over with, I sighed in exasperation and look down on the picture. It showed the girl from the cover. She was on her back, lying on a bed, with her 'father' above her. Her knees were pressed back towards her head, and her legs were resting on her father's shoulders. My eyes centered downward, and I gasped involuntarily, seeing where her father's immense penis was splitting her vagina. I swallowed. My thoughts were a blur of confusion. This was the first time I had ever seen the sex act taking place. The centerfold shot was raw and unsubtle. Despite my revulsion over what was happening, I couldn't help but feel a tingle in my loins, at seeing such a graphic display of the sex act.
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Collecting myself, I spoke "Dad, I really have to go up and do my homework now. " I squirmed in his lap, feeling his arousal poking up at me. Chucking, he tossed the magazine onto the coffee table, relaxing his grip on me. I quickly move up to leave, but his arms quickly recircled around my waist, pulling me back down on him. "Mmm Janey. . . did you notice. . . how much you look like that girl Susie in the picture. Did you see her face--how much she loved it--when she had her daddy's big cock deep up inside her tight wet pussy. She was such a good girl to spread her legs wide open for her Daddy. "My heart was pounding frantically. Daddy had been groping me a lot recently, but he'd never been so open and direct about wanting to fuck me.
"Dad! I gotta go!" I whined, twisting on his lap. His cock felt huge pressing against my buttocks. "In just a minute. . " he panted, as his hips began rocking back and forth against my imprisoned buttocks. "You know Janey, you're such a good girl to help Daddy out like this. . " he panted. "Here you are, helping your daddy satisfy his needs, while yours go on unsatisfied. " He punctuated this statement by grabbing at my crotch through my jeans. "You know, if you're ever feeling lonely or need something to help you sleep better, all's you need to do is come over to Daddy's room, and I'll be more than happy to give you what Susie's daddy gave her. " Groaning, he ejaculated in his pants. His lust sated, he released his grip on me. Springing up, I ran up the stairs, sobbing. Damn him! Damn him! Damn him.
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I wish he would just roll over and die!!* * *My father's descent into perversion continued, and his sexual overtures to me became more and more obvious. He took to fondling me right in the presence of Timmy. At least once a week, he'd corner me in the living room, and pull me on his lap and start dry humping me. As his liberties with my body increased, I knew it was only a matter of time before he would need something more than dry humping to sate his lusts. I also knew that I was basically helpless-at least for now. There was nothing I could do until I turned 18 and graduated from high school. All I needed was a year's time, and then me and Timmy would be free. Free from my father's molestation. Free of this bleak life. Free to start a new one. Just me and Timmy. * * *That time never came. I blink back tears now, as I think about how absurd I was for thinking it was ever possible that I could escape the clutches of my abusive father. Such a fool I was. I think back to that fateful summer.
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The summer where my dreams were shattered, my whole world crumpled. . . * * *Summer had arrived, and I had just finished up my junior year of high school. Having no friends, I basically spent every day secluded in my room reading my library books, or taking Timmy to the local playground. On July10th, the eve of my seventeenth birthday, feeling all sweaty and dirty from another session with my dad on his couch, I took a bus to the cemetery to visit my mother's grave. On my knees, kneeling before the slab of marble, I prayed fervently for strength. And courage. Strength to thwart my father's advances and courage to maintain my resolve to escape my prison. I stayed there for over two hours, talking to my mother. That night, during dinner, my Dad announced that since it was my birthday tomorrow, we would all be going to the beach. Timmy got very excited, and kept breaking out in smiles. He started gushing about how he was gonna build gigantic sandcastles, and make entire rivers surrounding it. I smiled to see him so happy. I don't think he'd ever gone to a beach since Mom died, but I guess he knew what to expect from watching television.
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Daddy looked at me, and then said. "Janey, you can wear your Mama's swimming suit. You've probably outgrown whatever swimsuit you have in your closet. I also brought down one of her cocktail dresses from the attic, because we're all going out to eat a nice restaurant afterwards. I'll get them for you after dinner. "I held my breath in excitement. Going to the beach would be such a nice break from the dull dreariness of home. And eating out?? Unheard of! My mind was full of excitement of tomorrow's events, as I hummed whiled washing up the dishes. Shortly, dad came up to me, tossing me a bag. "You can wear these tomorrow. "In my room, I took the bathing suit and dress out of the bag and examined them. It was a white bikini that I remember was my mom's favorite. Turning toward the cocktail dress, I saw that it was the cream colored one that my mom used to wear on special occasions. Excited, I quickly shucked off my clothes, and put on the bikini. It was a sort of tight fit, since my mom was very petite.
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Standing before the mirror, I stared. A sexy woman stared right back at me. God! I look stunning! I thought to myself, surprised and pleased all at the same time. My breasts and hips filled out the bikini very nicely. It wasn't a racy string bikini, but it definitely was not the conservative type either. A lot of my flesh was definitely visible. Trying on the cocktail dress, I saw that it too fitted my slim figure perfectly. The fine dress transformed me into a mature woman in her twenties, rather than a soon-to-be seventeen-year-old. * * *We got to the beach the next morning by late morning. While Timmy and I immediately sprinted for the waves, Dad began setting up the beach umbrella, and laying out the blankets. It was kind of weird, seeing him actually doing something besides lounging around with a beer bottle. Maybe he was finally coming back around. Not likely, I thought, remembering the way his eyes had roved over my body when I stepped outside my room this morning in the bathing suit. By noon, the sun was scorching. Rubbing some suntan oil all over Timmy, I did some on my front, and turned to Timmy.
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"Timmy, help me put some on my back. ""Timothy, let Daddy do that. Go on ahead, go start on that sand castle of yours. " Dad spoke up suddenly. Before I could utter a word in protest, Timmy was off and away, with a pail of sand and shovel. "Never mind, Dad, I can do it myself" I said quickly. "Nonsense. Lay down. I'll do it. " He ordered, grabbing the bottle of lotion from my hands, and placing his hands on the small of my back, directed me to lie down. Resigned, I settled back down on my stomach. I felt him straddle himself over me, his hairy legs to each side of my legs. Then he was pouring the oil into his cupped hand, and then his large hands were on my back, rubbing firmly. In circles, I felt him rubbing, first starting at the center of my back, then moving toward the shoulders, then to the small of my back. I started, as his fingers suddenly slipped under the string of my bikini top.
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Even as I uttered aloud in surprise, his hands, still under the bikini, had slid to my sides, caressing the sides of the swells of my breasts. "Daddy! Stop it!" I felt his hands slip out from under my bikini top, but I had had enough. "I can manage the rest myself!" I hissed angrily, looking around. Some families were around them, but they were a good distance off, and no one appeared to have noticed, thank god. "Now now, Daddy was just teasing. No need to get all riled up. Daddy just wanted to see much you've grown. Now let me do your legs, and then I'll be done. Before I could say another word, he squeezed some more oil on his hands, and then began on my legs. Starting on the calves, he slowly worked his hands up my thighs, while I held my breath, counting the seconds until this torture was over. I tensed slightly, as I felt his hands moving higher up my thighs. I clenched my thighs tightly, as I felt him began rubbing my inner thigh area. Ignoring me, he pressed insistently, and, fueled by the need to just get it over with, I relaxed somewhat and allowed him to part my thighs a bit so that he could get access there. I grimaced as his hands rubbed higher and higher up my thigh. This continued for a few seconds, and then, with a quickness that caught me by totally off guard, his fingers pinched the crotch area of my bikini bottom and shifted it to the side.
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I yelped in surprise, as I felt the cool open air against my exposed genitals. Just as quickly, his hand was suddenly there, cupping my pussy. "Dad!" I gasped, quickly closing my thighs. This did little more than to trap his hand between my thighs. I gazed quickly around? Had anyone seen what was happening? God, I'd die of embarrassment. No one was close enough to pay any attention. I scrambled to get up, but he was expecting that. I felt his heavy weight on me, as he settled on top of me. The full weight of his broad chest pressed down into my back, lowering me back down onto the blanket. As I lay trapped under him, I had to twist my head to the side just to breathe. I felt his fingers, wiggling around like a spider, probing into the folds of my vagina. His fingers felt oily from the suntan lotion. Tears welled up, and I began sobbing, as I felt his fat greasy fingers slip into my pussy lips.
It wiggled around the entrance, probing and testing. I choked, holding my breath, eyes wide, as my father discovered my hymen.
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"Goddamn! Who'd have thought. A body like this and still a virgin!" he marveled. "With a body like this, you won't be one long," he muttered. The weight of his hips on me lifted, and alarms sounded in my head, as I became aware of him tugging his bathing suit down to his knees. "God, he's going to rape me!". With his weight off my lower body, I tried twisting to the side to get out from under him, but he once again settled down, his naked groin pressed right up against the fullness of my buttocks. I kicked my legs futilely, but he was too heavy. I could feel the heat of his manhood. It felt so hot and thick, trapped between my thighs. I could feel the whole topside length of his hot bar, rubbing across the oiled lips of my sex. I looked around wildly, but with the loud crash of the waves, we weren't within shouting distance of anyone. I shuddered, in disgust and fear, as I felt my father begin thrusting up and down, against my buttocks. "Be calm Janey," I told myself. This is just like all the other times. He'll get his rocks off and then it'll be over.
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But this wasn't like the other times. Before, we'd always been clothed. Now, I could feel his heated penis brushing wetly across the lips of my exposed vagina. I closed my eyes, trying to think of something else. His bucking grew more frantic, as he panted heavily above me. I knew he was close, and it would be over soon. His hips lifted suddenly, higher than before, and as his hips came downwards, the large knob of his penis suddenly entered my vagina, splitting the lips, and entering about an inch or so. We both froze. "Oh god, no!" I whispered. Not my virginity! I'll be no good to anyone if he takes that. His body stayed frozen above me, and I could hear him moaning. "God, your pussy's so tight. Oh, god, this is so wrong, but Daddy needs you so badly. " He inched forward slowly, and I felt the entire corona of his penis head pass through my stretched pussy lips. Oh God, it felt like he was tearing me apart--he was so thick.
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Gasping, I felt a sharp twinge as his cockhead shifted forward, straining against my hymen. "Oh god. . . Oh god. . . can't hold it. . . " he moaned. I started, as I felt his cock head swell, and then begin throbbing inside me. A gush of warm wetness flooded my vagina, as he ejaculated. Shot after shot of his heavy sperm erupted from his geysering cock, splashing into the entrance of my vagina, and overflowing out past my stretched lips, which ringed his throbbing cockhead, to drip downward, matting my sparse pubic hair. He remained lodged in me for a few minutes, as I shifted restlessly under him.
After a minute, his weight eased off me, and then the head of his cock was slipping out of me with a wet noise. I felt his fingers once again tug the crotch of my bikini bottom, centering it back over my crotch. With a final pat of his cupped hand over my crotch area, he gave a chuckle. Sighing loudly, he flipped over onto his back, tugging his shorts back on. Within minutes, he was snoring loudly. I laid there motionless. A part of me was so weak with relief. I was still a virgin. He had not taken me. There was still hope. My rejoicing was short-lived, as I considered. How long would I be able to continue fighting him off? If anything, I knew my Dad. Now that he'd gone this far, he definitely wouldn't go back to the fully clothed dry humping sessions. Sooner or later, he would catch me at a disadvantage, and rape me. The lips of my crotch throbbed, a dull aching reminder of the recent encounter.
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I could feel the sticky wetness of his hot spunk against my crotch. My whole pussy was soaked in a swamp of his sperm. A chill of fear swept through me, as the possibility of pregnancy came up. Even though he hadn't torn my virginity, he'd ejaculated right into my vagina, and I knew enough to know that there was a real danger. Glancing over to make sure he was asleep, I got up, a bit shakily. I needed to wash off. Heading toward the waves, I walked tenderly. With each step, I imagined I could hear and feel his slimy gruel as it sloshed around in my pussy, sealed and contained by my clinging bikini bottom. Near the water, the beach was packed full of people. I noticed Timothy shouting at me. He was with a whole bunching of little kids, all of them running around with little pails and shovels, working feverishly on one big lopsided castle. I waved back, mostly to acknowledge him, and waded into the water. Once neck deep in the waves, and making sure no one was watching me, I adjusted my bikini bottom, pushing the material to the side of my crotch, and massaging my crotch, trying to wash out any traces of my dad's cum. When I felt that I had done the best possible, I rejoined Timothy. Seeing him play with kids his own age, so carefree and in such happiness, brought tears to my eyes.
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"Soon Timmy. . . " I promised him silently. You'll be able to build your won castle whenever you want. The afternoon and evening past by quickly. We quit the beach in the early evening and made the two-hour trip back home. During the long ride, Dad didn't mention anything about what had happened earlier today. But I was accustomed to his habits. Once he was sated, he would act like everything was normal. It was only when he got horny that I needed to be on alert. The problem was, I could never predict when he struck. We reached home, and everyone then got dressed up to go the Providenci Manor. After putting on my gown, I helped Timothy into his little suit, one I had saved up enough money last summer to buy for him. It fit perfectly, since I had bought it slightly larger, and altered it as he had grown.
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Providenci Manor was an extremely expensive and very fin Italian restaurant, and throughout the course of dinner, with musicians strolling around the room playing their violins, and the breathtaking presentation of each of their orders, I found myself wondering for the umpteenth time how my father had gotten the money to pay for it. Throughout dinner, I was aware of his eyes on me. . . on my body. Wisely, in a roomful of people, he didn't do anything more than look. By the time we arrived home, it was near midnight, and Timmy was snoring in the car. I felt bushed too. Gently shaking him awake, I led Timmy upstairs to his bedroom. Afterwards, I headed toward my room to change and go to sleep. I was dead-tired. Instead, I heard Dad call for me to come downstairs. Remembering his lustful looks at the restaurant, and what he'd done at the beach, I descended the stairs with leery suspicion. Better to get it over with. Dad wasn't the kind to take no for an answer.
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Dad greeted me in the kitchen with two champagne bottles--one in each hand. He'd changed out of his evening suit, and was dressed once again in his 'normal attire'-a boxer short and an undershirt that appeared to be falling apart at the seams. "I've been saving this bottle of Dom Perignon for just a special occasion like this one. It's not everyday that a daughter get's to celebrate her seventeenth birthday. In just a year, you'll be legal. " He made no sense. But I guess he wasn't paying attention to his own words either. His eyes never stopped roving my body, even as he held a glass toward me. "Daddy. . . I'm really tired! I'll drink it another time. I just want to sleep now. " I said. I turned to head back upstairs.
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"Nonsense! The bottle's already opened. I paid a hundred fuckin' bucks for this bottle. Least you can do is show your appreciation and drink a glass!" his voice was slurred. Flinching at his tone, I turned back around. Putting up the best smile I could muster, I held up my hands to accept the glass. I noticed then that he'd already finished half the bottle already. "No wonder he's acting like such a dick," I thought. Holding my breath, I held the wineglass up to my mouth, and in one gulp, downed the entire glass. "There!" I plunked the glass onto the table, turning to leave. My exhaustion must have made me brave, or foolish, for I would never have dared otherwise to talk back to my father like that. He must have not heard me, for he made no move to stop me as I headed up the stairs. I almost thought I heard him chuckling, but I was too tired to pay attention. By the time I reached my room, I could feel the buzz in my head from the alcohol. I'd never drunk alcohol before, but I'd seen my dad enough to know nothing good could come of it. "I hope I don't get a hangover," I thought, as I sluggishly got out of my evening gown.
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I went into the bathroom, to brush my teeth. It was getting harder and harder to keep my eyes open. That alcohol, combined with me sheer exhaustion, was really taking its toll. Eyes half-lidded in near sleep, I trudged out of the bathroom, heading toward my bed. Sleep would be a real treat tonight, I thought. But something was wrong. I gazed in stupor at my bed. There, on my bed, against the bed frame, was my dad, totally naked, stroking himself. I looked dumbly at the scene before me. This couldn't be happening. He should be downstairs drinking. But no, there he was, right in front of me, staring at me silently. His hands pumped slowly up and down on his monstrous cock. Even from the doorway of the bathroom, I could make out the bulging veins and angry purple color of its massive head. "Janey, did you think Daddy forgot your birthday present? I've got it right here in my hand.
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He gripped his heavy cock by the base, waving it me. "I call it the 'gift of womanhood'," he chuckled. My heart was pounding in fear. I felt the edge of my door against my back. All I needed to was turn around and run downstairs. But my legs wouldn't move. I just stood there, my body swaying. For some reason, the room was spinning around and around. Even the chuckling from my dad sounded like it was coming from far away. The vision of my father's leering wide grin seem to spin around and around before me. What was happening to me? In my haziness, I was dimly aware of my father, slowly getting up off the bed, moving toward me. Everything seemed to be in slow motion. "No. . .
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gotta get away. . . ". That was my last thought, before I slipped into unconsciousness. When I came to, I was in my bed, alone. Sunlight filled the room, brightening it. I yawned, kicking off the covers. Blearily, I glanced at the alarm clock. It was noon. God damn it. I never wake up this late! I sat upright on my bed, then doubled over in pain, as needles of pain shot through my crotch. With sudden alarm, the events of last night came rushing back to me. The image of my father, stroking his raging cock, and getting up off my bed and walking toward me. Oh god.
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It couldn't have happened. Please. . . this was all a dream. Even, as I swept the covers to the floor to reveal my lower region, the fierce burning in my crotch told me something bad had happened. I gazed at my panties. The crotch area was stained slightly yellowish, and dotted with deep brown spots, and damp. My eyes then focused on some small brown spots on the bedsheet. Blood stains, I realized, as a coldness settled over me. My eyes told me what my body already suspected, but my mind had refused to believe. I was no longer a virgin. I got out of bed, grabbing a change of clothing, and walked unsteadily into to the bathroom. I could hear the television and occasional sounds of laughter from my father and Timmy downstairs. My crotch was burning.
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I locked the bathroom door behind me. Sitting on the toilet seat, I hesitantly drew down my panties down to my ankles, and then completely off. Holding it up toward me, I could see that the entire crotch area of my panties swamped with a sticky wetness. Small spots of dried blood stains dotted the crotch area. The heady scent of sex assaulted me, and I almost gagged as I quickly tossed the soiled panties to the floor, and focused my attention to my burning crotch. Bending over forwards, I could see my vaginal lips, glaring back with an angry raw color. A mucuouslike film coated whole of my vagina, matting the downy hairs around my crotch. My eyes focused on the raw glistening lips of my vagina. The inner petals protruded slightly outwards, something that had never happened before. I held my breath. I had to make sure. Gingerly, I wiggled my index and middle fingers carefully into my vagina. I inhaled sharply, feeling a fiery pain as my raw wet lips br! ushed against my fingers. I felt around, seeking the place where my hymen should be. It was gone, completely.
. I fought back tears. No use crying over spilt milk, I tried to tell myself, but the tears flowed anyway. Wiping the wetness from my eyes so I could see, I delved further. My two fingers slid in deeper than would have been possible in the past, lubricated with the slimy wetness I could feel all around in my vagina. Fighting the urge to gag, I wondered how much of his stuff was in me. Within my vagina, I spread my two fingers slightly, waiting. Time slowed to a crawl, but eventually, some thick milky-colored fluid oozed out. I stared at it. Parts of it were gathered in clots of white spunk, other areas were almost clear. Thin streaks of pink could be seen, which I knew to be my blood. I sat there on the toilet, for almost an hour, watching as my father's sperm dripped slowly out of me. For the next few days, I stayed in my room whenever I could, coming out only make sandwiches for Timmy, or cook dinner for all of us. Like all the times before, Dad pretended the whole thing had never happened, bantering as usual with Timmy and me. But I knew my Dad; he was just a ticking time bomb, and I dreaded each day that passed, wondering if this would be the day that he would blow off.
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I was fairly certain that he'd drugged me that night--there was no other possible explanation for my sudden loss of consciousness--and just to be safe, I'd dump out all the open containers of juices and milk in the refrigerator, in case he'd slipped something in it. He probably wouldn't have done that, since that would endanger Timmy, but I didn't want to leave anything to chance. A month past and Dad actually sobered up a bit. Twice this month, he'd actually gone out for second interviews with potential employers. He told all this to me and Timmy during dinner, and I actually started to feel that maybe Dad was turning around. During this time, to my immense relief, my period arrived on schedule. It was the middle of summer, and things were starting to look up. I'd gotten a part-time job at the library, and was saving up some money. It was the first day of August, about a couple of weeks away from Timny's sixth birthday. I'd been making some clothes for him, since he would be starting school this fall. I had designed the clothes by copying the designs I saw from the Bloomingdale's catalog. Already, I'd made three long-sleeve shirts, a pair of shorts, and two trousers, and was working on the last pair of trousers with the remaining cloth I had left. Outside, I could hear the laughter of Timmy, as he and our neighbor's two kids roamed about in the backyard. There was a knocking on the door, and then it opened as my Dad walked in. I tensed immediately.
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One look at his sweaty face and his lethargic steps was enough to tell me he'd been hitting the bottle again. Something must have happened to get him like this. I glanced furtively at the open door, wondering if I could make it past him if I needed to. He surveyed the room, his eyes finally resting on me, stooped over the sewing machine in my room. "What's that for!" he gestured at the Timmy's new clothes, which I'd strewn across the bed. "Seems a little too small for you, but hey, I won't be complainin when I see you struttin around in em," he chuckled. I explained to him that they were for Timmy, and I was planning to give it to him next week for his birthday. He just grunted, and to my growing bewilderment, started moving about my room, examining my things. He gazed at the poster James Dean poster I had on the wall, sneering and muttering incoherent remarks. My eyes followed him around the room. What was he doing in here? Why was he drunk again? He'd been sober for an entire month. Something must have happened. Maybe his job interview fell through, I thought. He stopped in front of my wall calendar, that I'd pin to the wall, next to my dresser mirror. Through the reflection, I could see his eyes as they swept across the calendar page.
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Grunting, his finger tapped at some of the words scribbled on the calendar. "Timmy's sixth birthday. " he read, his words slurred. His finger traced the red circle I'd drawn around it. "What's this 'X' for," he said, tapping his thick finger on a red 'X' that appeared in the box a couple of days before Timmy's birthday. I felt my face flushing red. "That's when I get my period," I said in a bare whisper. "Speak up, I can't hear you. " he grunted, turning around to face me. "That's when I get my period," I said louder, a tinge of anger escaping. Why couldn't he ever just stay sober?My father just grunted, turning back around and stared at the "X". Slowly his finger traced circles around and around it. He turned around back to me, his face frozen in a smirk. "So Janey, what do you use? Tampons or those winged Tampa's on the outside?"I remained silent, and he asked again, louder. "The other things" I said, glancing at the open door.
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He was much closer to the door than me. I wouldn't be able to make it passed him, I thought sadly. "You should give tampons a try. I hear they feel pretty good when it's up your pussy. Almost like a little cock," he laughed, taking another swig from his bottle. "Of course, you might not have any use for 'em soon," he chuckled again, gazing meaningfully at me. I looked up at him in confusion. What was he talking about? I tried to reasoning with him. "Dad, you're drunk! Why don't you go downstairs and take a nap? I'll brew some coffee-". My voice cracked, as he strode to the door, slamming it shut with a solid thunk, leaving us both in the room. I could see the beginnings of madness and rising lust in his eyes, as he turned toward me.
"Oh god, this can't be happening. . . not again.
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" I whispered to myself. I was seated by the sewing machine, and tried to get up, but he was suddenly there, right up behind me. Immediately, I felt his big hands as they cupped my full breasts through the thin material of my T-shirt. "I was just talking to Timmy today, and do you know what he told me that he wants for his birthday?". His voice was slurred, and the smell of alcohol on his breath made me gag. I sat rooted in the chair, paralyzed in fright as his hands mauled my breasts, mashing them tightly against one another. "What did he want," I finally whispered. "He wants something only the two of us can give him. " His hands moved lower, down my breasts, to my smooth belly. He began patting me there softly. "He wants a baby sister. "I gasped loudly in alarm, springing up from the seat. I stood up, but he kept his arms tight around me. "No! Daddy, please stop it. We can't do this! You must have heard wrong," I cried out tearfully.
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He kicked the chair away from between us, and pulled me back against him. I gasped, feeling the stiff lump of his manhood as he pressed my buttocks against it. "I ain't lying. That's exactly what the little tyke told me," he said his voice heavy with lust. "And I know you, Janey. . . you couldn't refuse Timmy anything could you. "Maintaining his tight embrace, he half carried me with him toward the bed. He spun me around with ease, and with a quick shove, tossed me backward onto the bed. I lay there stunned, on my back, as he quickly ripped off his T-shirt. I looked toward the door, consider making a run for it. He looked at me, and said "Don't even think of it. My god, your body's tempted me enough this past month. Mark my words.
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You're gonna get fucked good today. I haven't been holding off a whole month's worth of cum just to jack it off. So either we do it together, or I'll do it my way. Now, get out of them clothes. I laid there speechless. Everything had happened so fast. This had to be a dream. But he stayed there, right in front of me, waiting impatiently. I had no idea what 'his way' was, but I knew it couldn't be good. Reluctantly, I removed my T-shirt, pulling it over my head. He just stood there waiting. I sat up, and pulled my thin cotton pants off. All I had on was my panties now. Reaching for the T-shirt, I held it over my breasts, trembling as I tried to cover myself from him. But he just leaned forward, yanked it from my grasp, and tossed it aside.
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"Now the panties!" he growled. "Daddy!" I sobbed. "Can't we just-". "The panties, or you'll regret it," his eyes flashed menacingly. Sobbing softly, I peeled the panties slowly off. I eased them off my hips, down to my ankles, and then removed them completely. "Good!" he nodded approvingly, his eyes glued to my crotch. "Now lay back down on the bed, and spread your thighs. "I gulped in fear, but did as he asked. Flat on the mattress, between my parted thighs, I awaited the inevitable. I watched as he crouched slightly, removing his shorts in one fluid motion. His massive cock sprang out. My breath caught in my throat as I saw close up the gigantic dimensions of my father's big solid penis. THICK was the only word to describe it. It looked at least as thick as my wrist! My stomach knotted in fear, as I gazed at the monstrosity, knotted with thick purplish blue veins all around.
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In the brightness of the room, I could see clearly the pulsating veins surging towards the large head that was dripping with the moistness of his escaping pre-cum. I quickly closed my legs, even as he crawled up onto the edge of the bed before me. Kneeling before my locked thighs, he growled out. "Spread em, you little slut. Don't try to play coy with me, I know how much you've been hungering for a piece of daddy's meat ever since I gave you your birthday present. " His hands snaked out to firmly grasp my ankles. I resisted, but he was too strong, and slowly he parted my thighs. I moaned in fear as he pulled me by my ankles, toward him, until my thighs were to either side of his hips. My buttocks were lifted off of the bed, and his large hands were suddenly there, clenching into the softness of my buttocks. He kneed my thighs even further apart, and hunched forward. His fingers wrapped firmly around his fat blood-engorged trunk, as he guided the purple head of his thick bloated cock-its slit dripping thickly with pre-cum-slowly and deliberately toward the mouth of my pussy. I choked in fear, cringing as I the searing hot contact of my father's large bulbous head cockhead wetly against my nether lips. I could feel it, hot against me. He rubbed it up and down across my lips, smearing it wetly with his leaking pre-cum. Finally, he looked up at me, his eyes clouded with lust.
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"Time to give Timmy his birthday present," he chuckled wickedly. He thrust forward, and his cock, hard and thick, moved into me. I gasped out loud in shock, as I felt my tight, pussy lips splitting open around his massive thickness. Then the huge bulbous head of his cock was sliding agonizingly into me, as my lips stretched to its limits to contain his girth. There was a wet noise, and suddenly my lips swallowed the entire corona of his head. I inhaled sharply, my eyes wide, as I felt the thickness of my father's cockhead in me. "Mmmmmh! Feel that Janey? Your little tight pussy's nibbling on Daddy's cock," he chuckled. "I bet little your pussy's hungry, isn't she. Janey, baby, is your little pussy hungry for more of Daddy's meat? Well, supper's ready!""No. . . " I moaned, as his hands clenched the cheeks of my buttocks cruelly. He set his teeth, and shoved forward with a mighty lunge, thrusting with the strength of all his manhood and virility. I felt every ridge, every bump of his thickness, as he drilled into me in great waves of warm moist flesh until suddenly his swollen penis head pelvis smacked tight into the end of my tunnel. I grunted in pain.
The sheer enormity of his flesh was more than I could bear. It felt as if a telephone pole had been shoved into me--he was so thick. Gasping out, I tried to twisting away from him. My whole groin was on fire, but my movements were futile. With his incredible length and thickness, my father pressed forward, impaled me under him with his flesh. "God, you've got one tight pussy!" my father gasped. He pulled the cheeks of my ass hard back against him and held his prick inside me. Flexing out to its fullest extent, he wriggled his hips, grinding his swollen cock head right up against my cervix. "Ohhhhhh. . God," I gasped out at the sensation. I could feel him, way up, deep against the entrance to my room. "That's right, baby, feel Daddy's big cock, honey. Feel it deep, deep in your tender young belly. How's it feel to get fucked by a real man, baby? You just lay back now and enjoy every inch of Daddy's thick meat.
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"With that, his hands gripped me tightly by my hips, pulling me toward him. His thick hard blood-filled cock sunk to its fullest depth inside my quivering belly. He then drew his long, sword of a cock back. Pain flared anew as the sides of his huge cock slid across my raw and narrow passageway. I was dimly aware of the lewd, wet squelching noises as his huge monstrous cockhead mashed again and again into the very end of her pussy, his hips were twisting in a cork-screw motion as he strove to drill his truncheon deeper into my loins. "Ohhh! Ohh! Ohhh," I heard myself moaning. My belly felt stuffed full with his maleness. Minutes ticked by. I closed my eyes, shuddering my father's movements became steady, his hot thick flesh sliding smoothly against my wet, stretched pubic lips as he pumped his organ back and forth inside her body. Opening my eyes, I looked at the dresser mirror. The sight I saw in the reflection repulsed me. I could see his broad back, as he bent over me, his hips rising and falling as he rutted into me. I wasn't able to see my face; all I saw were my slim pale thighs, upright and to each side of waist. "I was really being fucked," I thought, watching the reflection sadly as he pistoned his thickness in and out of me. After more minutes past, his breaths grew shorter and shorter, along with his strokes.
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I could feel him growing and growing deep. . . deep inside me. Oh god, this was it, I thought suddenly, horrified. He's going to cum in me! The knowledge filled me with despair and horror, and I felt my tears flow anew, cascaded in torrents down my cheeks. The image of me, under him, as he sprayed my delicate womb with his hot white sticky lust made me sick with nausea. Oh God, I don't want my father's baby! This thought ran crazily through my mind, and foolishly, I clench my ass muscles in a senseless gesture of defense. That did it! As my muscles clasped tightly around my father's hard-driving, lust swollen cock, he threw back his head with a guttural bellow, shoving his virility forward and into me in one last furious thrust, plunging his cockhead right smack deep into the crack of my cervix. He held me tightly against him, as fat wads of his hot sticky spunk jetted out, drenching inundating my insides full with his thick clinging seed. On and on, his huge cock jerked and twitched to its completion, white hot spurts of sperm foaming out the stretched lips around the base of his cock, drenching the matted hair of our fused crotches. "Noo! Oh, God, no, no, nooooooo!" I was sobbing hysterically. Finally, my father collapsed in exhaustion over me. I laid there, sobbing softly, his weight on me. I could still feel him deeply inside me, his cock twitching in the aftereffects of coition.
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His weight was heavy. I could feel the scalding hotness of his sperm, a fiery pool deep in my belly. I laid there under him for a few minutes. But his weight was too much. I twisted under him, trying to squeeze out from under his mass. Groaning, he finally flipped himself off me, his face red and perspiring profusely from exertion. A moist sucking noise resounded in the room as his fat dripping cock slurped noisily out of me. My eyes shot downward, watching as a string of creamy semen trailed out, as my pussy lips closed behind him. Gasping from his exertion, he flipped over onto his back besides me, his chest rising rapidly up and down. Lost in my own misery, I lay there, prone on my back, my legs spread vulgarly in the position my father had taken me, sobbing softly. After a while, he propped himself up on his elbow. I felt his gaze on me, eyeing me up and down with satisfaction. His gaze lowered triumphantly to my raw red glistening pussy, which gaped partially open. He'd done that. .
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. stretch my tight near-virgin pussy open with his wide cock. White frothy foam coated the lips and wet matted hair of my well-fucked pussy. "How'd it feel getting the 'ole in and out' from your daddy?" he chuckled. "Guess you ain't so high and mighty now, huh? Heh!" he laughed, his hand reaching forward, slipping between my damp thighs, to cup my tender mound-even as I sobbed aloud in renewed despair. I felt his fat fingers rudely probing into the folds of my swollen pussy. Ignoring my sobs, he spanned out his fingers, rudely spreading apart my tender lips. Fascinated, he watched as thick gulps of his creamy sperm oozed out. He gloated lecherously over the copious amount of spunk he had pumped into his little girl. "Damn! Daddy really creamed BIG TIME inside of you, didn't he," he chuckled, amidst my piteous sobs. "Your pretty little pussy must be just FULL of Daddy's baby making sperm. Christ, but I'd be damn if little Timmy doesn't get his birthday present after all!" he gloated. He got up off the bed. His now-flaccid penis shone wetly from our juices and his balls hung low, depleted. Grabbing his shorts and underwear, he slipped them on in front of me, even as his eyes roamed in satisfaction over my aching body.
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"C'mon, time to get a move on! It's almost six. I told Timmy we'd be going out to dinner tonight. He picked up his shirt from the ground, and pulled it on. Walking over to my dresser, he began opening the drawers and rummaging around. He turned around, smiling. In his hands, he held a panty liner. Walking back toward the bed, he picked up my panties from the ground, and held them both out to me. I looked at the liner and panties he held before me, then at his grinning face. Slowly, I took my panties from his outstretched hand, hoping he would leave now, but he just stood there. . . waiting. . . and smiling.
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Resigned, I sat up, wincing in pain as I felt a dull ache in my belly, from his deep thrusts. Under his lecherous gaze, I donned my panties. He waited, expectantly, his hand outstretched, holding the liner. Glaring back defiantly at him, I finally grabbed the panty liner, slipping it under the crotch of my panties. As I slipped it on, I could feel the sticky wetness of his warm spunk on my fingers, and I had to fight the urge to vomit at the thought of all his sperm deep inside my womb. He stayed there in the room, watching me get dressed. We walked down the stairs together. Calling for Timmy, who was still playing outside, we all piled into the car. Throughout dinner, I nibbled at my food, my appetite gone. All I could feel was the burning feeling between my legs, and the escaping wetness. I clenched my thighs tightly together, feeling more wetness seeping down my thigh. My panties were drenched, the liner doing little more than act as a dam against the torrent of sperm sloshing around inside me. My dad kept eyeing me smugly. He was well aware of how uncomfortable I was; his whole load of sperm dripping slowly out of me, and from his expression, he was reveling in it. When we got back home, I ran upstairs to take a shower.
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I quickly removed my shorts. My panties were totally drenched, looking almost sheer. I peeled them off, along with the lining. I looked down; my crotch was a mess. My raw lips were red and puffy, glistening with his jism. I sat down on the toilet, parting the lips of my vagina, and watched as a river of his sperm oozed out. I considered douching, but knew from health class that that would only increase the chances of pregnancy. So I sat there, like before, coaxing as much as I sperm out as I could. Later on that night, as I was tucking in Timmy for the night, I mentioned to him that it was going to be his birthday in two weeks, and whether there was anything that he would like, and maybe he could pray to God for it. "Oh yes! I've been praying every night!" he said excitedly. "I even told Dad about it, just so he could mention it to God in case God didn't hear me, because I'm so little. ""What did you pray for," I whispered, my voice suddenly hoarse. "A baby sister!" he beamed. Johnny's got a new sister, and she's the best thing! I was over there today, and they even let me carry her a bit, and I didn't even drop her at all!"I smiled at his enthusiasm, even as tears filled my eyes. "Oh god, what ideas you must have given dad," I thought.
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But I could no more blame Timmy for it than I could blame my mom for dying and leaving us with Dad. "God works in mysterious ways, dear. Sometimes he might not seem to be paying attention to you, but know that he's always looking out for you. " I paused. "Timmy, even if God doesn't give you a little sister for your birthday, who's to say you won't get one later on, in the future?". "I know!" he beamed up at me. "That's what Daddy says too. He says that I might almost be seven before I get mine, but I'm willing to wait!". That wasn't what I'd meant, but the idea that my father had been talking to him so matter-of-factly about him getting a baby sister brought a chill to my spine. "God, he really intends to get me pregnant. "I kissed Timmy goodnight, walking out troubled. I didn't know what I would do if I got pregnant. I didn't have enough money for an abortion, and I knew dad wouldn't allow me to get one. He met me outside my bedroom door, as I prepared to go to bed. "So, did Timmy tell you about his birthday wish?" he said mockingly.
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He chuckled aloud, as he saw as my face redden, positive proof that I'd indeed spoken to Timmy about that very topic. He continued to stand there, blocking the doorway to my room. I tried squeezing past him, but his hands came up, gripping my arms tightly, and pulling me toward him in a tight embrace. "From tonight on 'til Timmy's birthday, you'll be sharing my bed," he whispered gruffly in my ear. I gazed up at him in shock. He couldn't be serious? But from his frozen expression, I could see he was dead serious. He led me firmly down the hall, past Timmy's bedroom, into his bedroom. Locking the bedroom door behind him, he turned around, facing me. "You know the drill. Clothes off. . . on the bed. . .
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and spread em for daddy. Afterwards, when he'd emptied himself into me, he made me sleep with him in the 'spoon' position, his shrunken but lengthy penis still deep inside me, as he drifted off to sleep, his arms clutching me possessively. He woke up two more times during the night, hard and thick within me, thrusting hotly into me until he'd emptied his seed once again. For the next two weeks, he basically kept me there in his bed, fucking me whenever it fancied him. He ordered in takeout for lunch as well as dinner, and left Timmy to play outside with the neighbor's kids. He took delight in fucking me in various positions-from behind with me on all fours, or missionary, or me on my back, legs resting on his shoulders while he sank into me deeply. My pussy became a constant sticky mess, always slick and dripping with his spunk. The bedsheets became indelibly stained with cum stains, and the room reeked of raw sex. After the fifth day, I knew with a hopeless certainty that I was going to be pregnant for sure, if not already. He'd been fucking me right through the middle of my cycle, when I was the most fertile. It excited him so much, to be grinding his fat cock deep against my cervix, as he caressed my smooth taut belly. "Just think, Janey," in a few months, your slim sexy belly is gonna get all big and round. Knocked up by your own daddy! Go! d!" he'd groan, as he emptied yet another river of sperm into me. He took particular delight in producing unwanted orgasms from me, pointing them out, knowing how embarrassing and humiliating it was for me. The first time I orgasmed was when he'd had me sitting astride him, forcing me to slide up and down on his thick cock.
He'd already come three times that day, and was taking forever to come again. I couldn't help it; I'd been riding up and down on his thickness for over half an hour, and to my horror and utmost shame, I started to feel pleasure in my loins. Minutes passed, and the pleasure reached a pinnacle, and I remember gasping and shaking, feeling my pussy muscles convulsed around his thick spurting cock. He knew immediately what had happened, and started roaring out loud about how he could feel me cumming all over his cock. I broke down in tears, my shame was complete. Timothy's birthday came and went. Dad finally let me sleep back in my room, but it was already too late. My period never showed up. I was hysterical, while he strutted about the house, proud as a peacock. He and Timothy talked excitedly about his baby sister, while I locked myself up in the room, crying uncontrollably. The month of September came and went, along with my plans to finish my senior year in high school. I stayed home, not able to bear the thought of the great shame that I would feel when the other kids begin to notice when my belly started swelling. Timmy did start kindergarten though, and everyday, I walked him to school and picked him up afterwards. Since I was at home all the time now, with Timmy gone most of the day, Dad's sexual interest in me flared anew. I didn't even resist anymore.
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What was the point? He couldn't sully me any more than I was already. As the weeks passed, I eventually lost my inhibitions. After some time, I actually started fucking back. Trapped in the house all day and night, there was really nothing else to do, so we basically wound up fucking a lot. It got so, that just the sight of his thick member was enough to get me wet. The weeks turned to months, and my belly began to swell with the life my Dad had created in me. On a Saturday morning, in April, I gave birth to healthy seven-pound girl. I named her Hope. Lying there, in the hospital bed, cuddling the delicate bundle of warmth as she nursed on my breasts, sanity and reason--properties which had abandoned me these past months-returned suddenly to me. I saw for the first time, with clarity and rising disgust, how I'd become nothing more than a mindless sex slave for my father. I had to end this cycle, or else it would just wind up repeating itself over and over. If I continued down this road, I knew for sure I'd only wind up getting pregnant again. All my dreams of escaping with Timmy, and now Hope, would remain just that. . .
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dreams. I was a picture of perfect coolness and composure when my dad stepped into the room to look at his newest daughter. When he reached out for her, I looked him straight in the eyes, my eyes cold as ice. "Dad, it's over. I'm going away with Timmy and Hope, and you're not going to follow us. If you do, I'll tell everyone about us. I'll tell them how you raped me, and locked me up until you made sure I was pregnant. I'll tell them about Hope. "He began to utter something back, but stopped midsentence, as he saw the look in my face. His face paled, as he realized from my dead-calm expression that I was entirely serious. I continued. "If you don't want to get locked up for what you did to me, you'll leave it drop and consider yourself lucky. I'll be back to the house in a few days to pack up our stuff, then we'll be gone. "The room was silent. I spoke again, this time a whisper.
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"Please leave. I'm tired. " I said closing my eyes, and dismissing him once and for all from my life. The End.
