Cherry Busters-Pussy Hungry Daddies
by Unknown 


GENERAL INTRODUCTION 

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

Following are some of their stories; 

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

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

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

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

 CASE HISTORY ONE 

SUBJECT: Aurelia B. AGE: Sixteen 

INTERVIEW ONE 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

INTERVIEW TWO 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The problem was that I loved it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CONCLUSION 

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

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

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

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

 CASE HISTORY TWO 

SUBJECT: Grace H. AGE: Seventeen 

INTERVIEW ONE 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

INTERVIEW TWO 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CONCLUSION 

Taking responsibility is an adult action. 

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

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

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

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

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

 CASE HISTORY THREE 

SUBJECT: Lynn M. AGE: Sixteen 

INTERVIEW ONE 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

INTERVIEW TWO 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CONCLUSION 

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

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

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

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

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

 CASE HISTORY FOUR 

SUBJECT: Quinn R. AGE: Fifteen 

INTERVIEW ONE 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

INTERVIEW TWO 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CONCLUSION 

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

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

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

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

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

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

 CASE HISTORY FIVE 

SUBJECT: Tanya U. AGE: Fourteen 

INTERVIEW ONE 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I guess the most difficult part was getting out. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Father, I want to love you." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

INTERVIEW TWO 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How could you condemn my father for this? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CONCLUSION 

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

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

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

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

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

 CASE HISTORY SIX 

SUBJECT: Veronica W. AGE: Seventeen 

INTERVIEW ONE 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

INTERVIEW TWO 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CONCLUSION 

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

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

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

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

 CASE HISTORY SEVEN 

SUBJECT: Betty C. AGE: Fifteen 

INTERVIEW ONE 

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

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

She made no secret of her initial mistrust and her negative attitude. It 
took me some time before I was able to break through her defensive shell and 
get to communicate with her. 

Doctor, don't think I want to be here. They made me come here to talk to 
you. 

What do you think I'm gonna tell you about? Huh? What do you wanna know 
about? 

You wanna know about how lousy I alway had it at home, I'll tell you about 
that. I don't care. My momma worked real hard all her life and what did it 
get her? Nothing! She's still working. She's a cashier at some supermarket 
and she thinks she's hit the big time. 

Big deal. Her momma worked cleaning people's apartments, so my momma thinks 
she's gone up a step in the world. 

How far do you think I can go in the world? Maybe I'll get to stock shelves 
in a market. 

We have a stinking little apartment. It's two rooms. My momma sleeps in one 
room and I sleep in the other room that's also a living room and a kitchen 
for us. 

We didn't always live in that apartment. My daddy left when I was really 
little and my older brother is away now in a youth home. He's gonna be there 
for a lot of years yet. 

So, now that it's just my momma and me we live in that apartment. 

But the real trouble happened when niomma's older brother came to the 
apartment. He needed a place to stay. He said that he was just gonna stay 
for a few nights, but he ended up staying on there. 

Dwayne isn't much good at making money, you see. So, he ended up in the 
apartment. I moved into the bedroom with momma and Dwayne took the couch in 
the living room where I used to be. 

I should tell you about the neighborhood, though. Yeah, it doesn't do any 
good unless you Snow about the neighborhood. It's a miracle that I kept my 
cherry as long as I did. I mean that, it can only be called a real miracle 
that I kept it for so many years. 

If you walk down the street and you happen to be a black woman all the guys 
think that you're some cheap piece of property. Any guy on the street thinks 
that he can just grab at you and say any kind of shit he wants to say to you 
and grab his crotch in front of you and laugh at you. 

Shit, it's all those stupid dudes who think they're fighting for black 
culture and for black pride who do that to black women. Don't they have one 
fuckin' brain between all of them? Don't they know that as long as they 
treat every black woman who walks down the street as if she's a piece of 
shit then there ain't never gonna be no respect for them. Hell, they don't 
deserve respect unless they can treat me with respect, that's what I say. 

Fuck all of them! I started to carry a little knife with me when I was ten! 
My momma found it and she was really upset and she was crying and she was 
asking me why I had to have the knife with me and I told her that she knew 
what it was to be a black woman in the city and she knew what it was I had 
to deal with on the street. 

And then she became really quiet and she gave me back the knife. She hasn't 
said anything about it in all the years since then. I guess she figured that 
it was better for me to have the knife with me than to get raped a hundred 
times a day. 

Most of the time all I have to do is turn around real fast when there are 
two hot-shot guys following me down the street, saying things to me, calling 
out to me and telling me that they want to fuck me, and I turn around and 
show them the knife and I ask which one of them wants to pull it out first. 
I say, "Which one of you wants to pull down your pants first. I got 
something real special for your dicks." 

Then they back off and they start to say, "Oh, this little bitch is probably 
a dyke. Leave her alone. She wants to go suck out pussies." How dare they? I 
mean, what right do they have to make my life so shitty every fuckin' day I 
walk down the street? 

You said that I looked mad at the world when I walked into the office. Well, 
sure I did. I'm a black girl and I have to look that way. If I walk down the 
street smiling some cop will think I'm a hooker and hell arrest me. I mean 
it. I had a friend in school and she was made head cheerleader that day and 
she was smiling to herself while she walked down the street and she was 
singing to herself and all and a cop picked her up for soliciting. 

I'll tell you that I'm proud of who I am. I am Betty. I'm a person. I look 
good and I do what I do good. But, if I wanted to wish the shittiest thing I 
could wish on my worst enemy I would wish that he would get born again as a 
black woman here in this city. 

Now, maybe you understand what I'm talking about, Doctor. Okay? 

I mean, those white girls in their nice white schools can go out on dates 
with boys and they can pet a little bit and they can get respect. But, the 
boys in my school just expect that you're gonna put up with anything. I 
mean, do white boys in school grab their crotches in front of the white 
girls when the girls walk down the hall? 

You can't give me an answer? That's because you know that the white girls 
expect more respect than that. The white girls would really be shocked and 
angry and pissed if they saw a boy doing that. And if they went to the 
school authorities and they said, "That boy did something nasty. That boy 
made a nasty move at me," that boy would be kicked out. 

What the hell do you think I would do if I was raped on my block? I would 
take my knife and I would cut that fucker's heart right out of his body 
while he was asleep. But I wouldn't go to the police. Do you think those 
pigs give a fuck when a black girl is raped? 

I feel like I've got the whole world against me. And don't use that word on 
me. I know what paranoid means. I'm not paranoid. Things are rough. I'm 
telling you the truth and you know it. 

My brother used to like to act like a big man. He's been gone for two years 
though. I go to visit him when my momma can't get away to go. That's okay 
now. We just talk. 

He tells the other guys in the place that I'm his girlfriend instead of 
telling them that I'm his sister. I don't care. If that gives him a little 
more prestige that's fine with me. 

I know what it is for him to try to keep up a face there. It's not easy, 
Doctor. 

As far as sex goes, I guess I learned about it pretty early. I must have 
been a little kid when I first saw a couple fucking in an alley. It was the 
first time J saw a man's full-sized dick and the first time I saw a woman's 
hairy twat that was spread open. 

I'll tell you though, I don't even watch that shit anymore because it goes 
on all the time. 

Yes, my brother did have something to do with me. When I was younger he used 
to try to get me to show my snatch to his friends, and I would fight against 
him. 

One time they all held me down and they looked at my snatch. But, 
fortunately for me they were still a little young to get into a heavier 
scene then and there. 

There were times when I looked at him and times when he showed me what he 
had on purpose. Oh, I don't know, Doctor. It all becomes sort of a blur. 
But, the important thing is that in all that time I never gave up my cherry. 
But, then the thing happened with my uncle. 

The thing with my uncle was really the thing that was just terrible. It was 
awful. 

INTERVIEW TWO 

Dwayne was an annoying bastard, but momma wouldn't kick him out of the 
house. 

I never called him Uncle Dwayne. I just called him Dwayne. Even though he 
was older than my momma, he looked younger than she did because he had that 
style about him and he also had a hell of a lot of drugs about him. He 
wasn't a junkie. He had more class than that. But, he didn't have too much 
more class than that, just a very little bit. 

Like I said, he was sleeping on the couch. There were a couple of times when 
I would walk through the living room to get to the bathroom and I would see 
him, sprawled out there with nothing on his body at all but part of the 
blanket that was wrapped around one leg. 

I don't know if he did that on purpose but it looked to me like he always 
had a boner. 

Once or twice he sort of made passes at me and I told my momma about that. 
Momma would always say that Dwayne didn't mean what I thought he meant or 
that he was just teasing. Momma liked to defend Dwayne. She felt something 
for him because he was all the family she had. 

But, it did no good. Momma was feeding him and giving him a little money 
that only went for drugs. No matter how much money momma would give him in 
an evening, he would come in the next morning looking a mess and he wouldn't 
have a penny of it left. 

He never had a penny left in his pocket and he was always hungry. 

And then there was the way he looked at me. He would say things like, "You 
sure do look delicious. Nothing I like better than a black cherry." 

Just before the thing happened with Dwayne there was a mess in his life. I 
don't know what it was, but I heard him talking tojmomma. He said that he 
owed somebody a lot of money and she was finally upset with him. He wouldn't 
even tell her any details of what it was all about. He told her that if she 
couldn't give him that much money to pay back what he owed, she should at 
least give him a couple of hundred so that he could get out of town. 

Momma didn't have that kind of money. She was keeping the apartment and 
taking care of me just on the money that was coming in every week. It was 
like hand to mouth with us. 

Dwayne was really pissed and he left the house and didn't come back for two 
days. Momma was afraid that something happened to him. I figured he was just 
trying to scare her, but I didn't say anything. If you said anything against 
Dwayne it would make momma mad. 

And then he came back. But momma wasn't home when he came back to the 
apartment. 

She was working that night and he knew that she was working. I was home from 
school and I did my homework and I went to take a bath. When I was coming 
out of the bathroom, wrapped in a terry robe, I sort of had the feeling that 
someone was there in the apartment. It scared me. But, I didn't see anyone 
there. I figured it was my imagination. 

And then, when I was going past the couch, Dwayne jumped out from behind the 
couch and he landed on me. I tried to fight him off, but I didn't have my 
knife with me and he got me by surprise. Also, he seemed to know just what 
he wanted to do to me. 

He had some handcuffs in his hand and he cuffed my wrists behind my back. 
From then on, he really had me. "Sorry, but I gotta do this, girl." That's 
what he said to me. 

I was fussin' and fightin' and trying to get him off my back. But it was no 
good. 

He was pulling my terry robe off and I was naked and still a little bit wet 
underneath it. 

It didn't take him much time to get me completely naked, even though he had 
to rip that robe. It was such an old rag that it ripped right apart when he 
pulled on it. 

Shit, I started crying then. I started to cry for the robe because I knew 
that my momma couldn't afford to buy me another one. She had been giving all 
the extra money in the house to her shitty brother, Dwayne, and now that 
bastard was paying her back by ripping my robe. 

He was saying to me, "In a couple of weeks you're gonna get over this, kid. 
It ain't gonna make no difference to you. But it's gonna make a hell of a 
difference to me." 

"You shit. You fuckin' shitty bastard. You're gonna bust my cherry?" 

"Not me," he said. "I ain't gonna do it." How can I explain this to you, 
Doctor. Maybe if he was drugged out and he started to rape me like that and 
he had taken my cherry himself there might have been some way that I could 
respect him again in my lifetime. 

No, that's saying too much. I can't see how I could respect him. I don't 
know. Maybe I could have forgiven him someday in the future. But, for what 
he did, I can't forgive him. 

He didn't do nothin' out of passion. He wasn't satisfied with the money that 
my momma gave him, so he also decided he would make money by selling my 
cherry. 

The deal was that he had to deliver me as a virgin. He put a gag in my mouth 
and a sack over my head and then that bastard put me in a bag and was 
carrying me down from the apartment. I don't know where he brought me. He 
put me into a car and the next time I could see around me I was in 
somebody's dark cellar. It scared me. 

And there was a man standing over in the corner with Dwayne. He was giving 
Dwayne money and then he turned to me and took down his pants. "She better 
be a virgin," is all he said. 

Then he pushed his dick into me real hard and fast. When my cherry was being 
busted I just kept looking right at Dwayne, who was standing in the corner, 
watching. He looked away from me and didn't want to meet my eyes after that. 

The first one wasn't the whole thing. There were other ones after that. I 
was fucked by about a dozen guys that night. Of course the others didn't pay 
Dwayne as much as the first one did. They shot drugs into me so that I would 
pass out and when I woke up I was naked and lying in an empty lot. Nobody 
wanted to rape me then because I stank from the garbage. 

So, they wanted me to come see a doctor and tell him the story of what 
happened. That's the story. Momma tells me that Dwayne disappeared and she 
doesn't know where he is. 

What else is there for me to tell you, Doctor? That's what my uncle did to 
me. 

So, what are you gonna do for me now? Are you gonna give me a pill and make 
it all better for me? Are you gonna say something real smart and fix 
everything up for me? What the hell can you do to help me, Doctor? What was 
the point of my coming here? 

CONCLUSION 

Cases come in which often make a therapist feel impotent. 

Betty could conceivably be removed from her home and placed under foster 
care, but with the burdens already existing on our foster care system and 
considering the number of other young girls facing similarly unpleasant 
environments this is a poor solution. 

Her mother cannot be completely condemned for taking in the girl's uncle, 
although she should have been more careful for the girl's safety with a man 
like that around her home. However, the woman's love for her own brother is 
understandable. 

Betty does not need psychiatric counseling. Considering the deprivations and 
the one particular ordeal through which she has been put she is adapting 
quite well. It is hoped that she can be aided by concerned social workers 
and teachers. 

 CASE HISTORY EIGHT 

SUBJECT: Elsie F. AGE: Sixteen 

INTERVIEW ONE 

Elsie was a slender girl who looked younger than her sixteen years. The 
dress she wore, with its wide skirt that was rather long, and its short 
sleeves, looked quite old-fashioned for a girl today. 

She wore her hair long and pulled back from her face. Her large blue eyes 
seemed frightened of everything around her. She looked all around the 
office, but rarely at my face. 

Doctor, I don't know what I'm supposed to do here. You tell me that I should 
just relax and talk, but that isn't easy for me. You see, my father does all 
the talking in our house. 

We lost my mother when I was quite young and my father and I have lived 
together in the big house all these years since that time. Everyone always 
told my father that he should give up the big house, but it's the house 
where he was raised and it was the house where he first settled with his 
wife and where I was born and he will not leave it. 

I suppose there are tensions between my father and myself, even though there 
shouldn't be. 

He's so generous and giving to me. He cares about me. But, he's very strict. 
I always feel that if I had my mother in the house she would permit me more 
than my father does. My father fears for me. He is worried about me because 
I am a young girl. He assumes that the worst things will happen to me. 
That's why he makes me dress like this. 

He must approve all my clothing and he has very old-fashioned tastes. 

Most of the children in school never wanted to have anything to do with me 
because I always looked so old-fashioned and I never spoke much. I always 
kept to myself. 

There were no boys asking me out on dates. Well, actually a boy did ask me 
out to a very big dance that they had at school last year, but my father 
said that I couldn't go. He said that until I turned sixteen he wouldn't let 
me go out with any boy. 

Now I am finally sixteen but there's no boy who wants me. 

My father tells me that I'm pretty and I look at pictures of my mother and 
see that she looked just like me and she was very beautiful. I look in the 
mirror and I say to myself that I have beautiful hair and that I have a very 
nice nose and that I have big blue eyes and full lips. In every feature I am 
beautiful. But I don't believe that I am beautiful. 

There is the subject of sex. That is a subject with which I have never felt 
any comfort. 

I have thought about sex. I mean, when I am alone in my room and I touch 
myself, I think about it. I look at beautiful girls and handsome boys in 
school and I think to myself, "Those people are going to enjoy each other. 
They will enjoy their bodies." 

I suppose that I just assume that I will never get a chance to enjoy a 
handsome boy in that way. 

Well, actually, Doctor, there is something that happened. No, I am not a 
virgin. 

Actually, Doctor, that's the reason I am here. Something happened and I lost 
my virginity. I lost it to my father, Doctor. It is not an easy thing for me 
to talk about. 

It concerns the fact that I touch myself and that when I touch myself I 
think about male bodies. Often, when I would lie in bed I would shut my eyes 
and I would think about the bodies of certain boys in school. I mean, I 
would picture their faces and I would think of what it would be like to see 
them naked, to have sex with them. 

I can't help blushing when I talk about such things, Doctor. 

None of this is easy for me. I was saying that I think about boys in school 
and that I touch myself when I do. Or, sometimes it is not the boys 
in-school I think about. Sometimes it is some hero from a television 
program. I'll shut my eyes and picture some man who was on a television 
program that night and I'll try to imagine what he looks like naked. 

That's always a pleasure for me. Of course there are some people who appear 
in those fantasies more than others. There's a boy in school named George. 
He wears glasses and has blond hair and his clothes always fit him very 
snugly. And then there's the hero of that television program who wears a tan 
uniform on the show. I don't know his name in real life. 

The character he plays on the show is called Hank and that's what I call 
him. 

Well, the one person I think about more than any other when I touch myself 
has always been my father. That's the truth. My father had always maintained 
a great deal of modesty with me, but I always thought about what he looked 
like naked. I mean, I thought about what he would look like if he were ever 
naked in front of me. 

Well, then something happened, Doctor. It finally happened that he was naked 
in front of me. 

You see, my father works out of the house. He edits a medical journal and 
usually he will stop into the office once in the afternoon, take home the 
next day's work and leave off the things he had done that day. That's the 
way he works. 

So, he's always in the house when I get home in the afternoon. That's nice 
in a way, but it also always meant that I never got a chance to have any 
real privacy. I mean, there was never any time when I had the whole house to 
myself, to do with as I wished. 

Sometimes I would come home from school just boiling over with sexual 
excitement. Maybe I would have seen some boy who looked very handsome and I 
would want to think about him, I would take a chance to imagine him naked. 
Maybe there was a boy during the lunch period who had been playing 
basketball with his shirt off and that had excited me. 

Oh, Doctor, I would be so anxious to get home, feeling the fire in my body, 
and wanting to touch myself, and my father would be there. I couldn't just 
disappear up to my own room and close myself in. When I would get a chance I 
would shut myself in my room and tell him that I was doing homework, but 
that was where my father's interest in me, his concern for me, made my life 
a little more difficult. He would ask me later on what homework I had been 
doing and he would wonder how long it had taken me to do one thing and how 
long to do another thing. 

I would wait until he had to make his afternoon trip into his office before 
I would frig myself behind the closed door of my bedroom. That was the way 
it went for me. 

And then there was the day that it finally happened with my father. I 
finally saw my father naked and he caught me touching myself and then he ... 
did it to me. That's what happened. Oh, Doctor. I'm so ashamed of myself for 
what happened. I'm so ashamed. 

INTERVIEW TWO 

The girl needed a chance to rest because she could not continue with her 
story. When I had her come back into my office she continued the story 
carefully and slowly, often stopping to catch her breath as if she had been 
running, often on the verge of tears. 

It was clear that this recollection was not easy for her. 

Well, Doctor, I came home from school after only half a day. They had 
announced the fact that it would be a half day since there was some clerical 
thing that all the teachers had to do but I suppose I had forgotten to tell 
father about it. I don't know why. 

I knew my father's schedule. He always urged me to get work done before 
doing anything for myself. Rather than waking up in the morning and having 
his coffee and taking a shower and then going to work, he was in the habit 
of going to work and doing a certain amount and then making a nice breakfast 
for himself. Then he would go back to work, accomplishing a certain amount, 
and then he would take his shower and shave and everything. 

Then he would take an early afternoon break to do the shopping or whatever 
he had to do. He had a cleaning woman in twice a week and the two of us 
weren't too messy, so he never had to deal with the laundry or anything like 
that. And then he would go back to work for the rest of the afternoon, 
taking a little coffee break to chat with me when I got home from school. 

That day when I had half a day at school I came in while he was in the 
bathroom. 

I could hear the water upstairs and I went up quietly. When I got the 
bathroom door I noticed that it was open just a little crack. I suppose that 
he did that so that he could hear the phone ringing. I could see my father 
moving on the other side of the shower curtain because I had a view that 
showed me the old-fashioned bathtub on feet. 

Doctor, I should have just walked on. I shouldn't have looked in at all. 
But, there were all those times I had thought about seeing my father naked. 
There were all those things that were haunting me. I wanted a chance to see 
him naked. I knew that for a fact. 

And so, I stayed near the door. I even crouched down on the floor and 
watched. I just wanted one glimpse of him naked and that would be enough for 
me. 

The water was turned off. My heart seemed to be beating so loudly that I 
thought he would hear it. But, I was frozen to the spot. I couldn't move. It 
seemed to take forever that he was there behind the shower curtain. And then 
he pulled the curtain aside and I couldn't look away. I never described my 
father to you, did I? 

He's a tall and handsome man with broad shoulders. He's blond and he has a 
blond beard and a lot of thick blond hair on his chest. When I saw him naked 
for that first time his penis was hanging down thick and long between his 
legs. 

But, as soon as he had pulled the curtain aside he started to stroke on his 
penis. He was displaying it for me except he didn't know I was watching. I 
really wonder now, if he hadn't started to stroke it, whether I would have 
just left and not watched any longer. 

But, that's all besides the point. I was fascinated by what I was seeing. 

Doctor, my handsome father was masturbating. He sat on the edge of the tub 
and he kept on stroking up and down on his thick thing. While he was doing 
that I couldn't help myself. I reached up underneath my dress and I started 
to frig myself. I actually reached into one of the leg openings of my 
panties and I was stroking my fingers up against my cunt lips. 

The two of us must have been like that for a long moment. 

Perhaps five minutes passed. He was drying off as he sat on the edge of the 
tub with his fingers wrapped around his erection. And I was squatting in a 
terribly uncomfortable position. 

I must have leaned against the door. That's it. I did lean against the door. 
I couldn't help myself. I pushed the door into the bathroom and fell across 
the floor. 

And, Doctor, as if that weren't enough, my fingers were still inside the 
legs of my panties. 

He went insane. My father had always been gentle with me before. Even though 
he was strict about the things I could do and the clothes I could wear, he 
had always been loving and gentle. 

But, then he went completely insane and he landed on top of me and started 
to slam me around on the hard tile of the floor. He pulled my panties down 
and his penis was already hard and he pushed it into me. Oh, Doctor, he took 
my virginity. 

After it was all over he left the house for a long time and didn't come home 
until the next day. I was worried, so worried. When he did come home he told 
me that he was going to send me to live with my aunt in another city because 
he didn't trust himself with me. 

Doctor, I don't want to be parted from my father. It was one thing that 
happened and I blame myself for it. Okay, maybe I wasn't totally to blame. I 
was just looking at him and he went crazy about the whole thing. But, I 
don't want to leave him because of this. 

He agreed to let me see you before sending me away. Tell my father not to 
send me. 

CONCLUSION 

The fact that the man wanted to send his daughter away indicates his sincere 
concern for her safety. This incident seems to be an unfortunate thing which 
happened in one unguarded moment when both of them lost their normally 
reserved control. 

It will be necessary for both Elsie and her father to seek some short-term 
therapy so that they can deal honestly with their responses to this rape. 
And for the man to offer both the girl and himself some further outlets as 
far as their social lives are concerned. 

They both seem like intelligent people who sincerely care about each other. 
In the case of any parent-child relationship that's half the battle right 
there. The other half of the battle, however, is understanding how to keep 
parental care from being harmful to a child. 

When children, as in Elsie's case, do not have enough opportunity to mingle 
with their peers, they can develope unusually strong attachments and needs 
for their parents. 

The hardest part of being a parent is giving your child the freedom to move 
away and grow on his or her own. 


GENERAL CONCLUSION 

There is more sexual abuse of children in the American home than anywhere 
else! 

That's a terrifying fact and one that needs to be reckoned with by 
everyone-including church groups who defend the 'family' against any outside 
attack. The family unit is not a holy and a perfect thing. As more and more 
people, unprepared for the responsibilities of being parents, take on the 
role of parents this problem will grow worse and will not improve. 

The scars on the lives of the young females whose stories are told in these 
pages cannot be erased. Some of their lives have been permanently damaged 
because of selfish passions! Every citizen must be on guard against such 
incestuous abuses! Young people must have outlets in their community to 
which they can turn in case of such abuses. Parents must be made accountable 
for their actions! 


THE END
