Forced Incest: Lust Without Limits
by Unknown


GENERAL INTRODUCTION 

Incest, long taboo in Western civilization, is much more common in today's 
world than it was in the days of ancient Egypt, when only the Pharaohs and 
the nobility had the right to cohabit with their close kin. 

Men and boys today are taking by force, what tradition has denied them for 
so long: Then-daughters, sisters, and other close kin. 

If there is one thing I have learned beyond all doubt during the years I 
have been practicing it is that incest is not merely common in America, but 
outright rampant. We in our society are almost constantly in a state of 
sexual stimulation. Because of this situation, the American, heterosexual 
male is not able to control or even limit his sexual desires according to 
the tradition, and now outdated, sexual precepts and standards of Western 
civilization. 

But these very young ladies tell the story much better in their own words: 
Caroline: Age 16 - I had long known that my brother desired me but still I 
was shocked when he finally decided to force himself on me. And I was simply 
too weak to keep him from having his way with me. 

Jennifer: Age 19 - My father had been saying that I must somehow pay for my 
expensive dancing lessons. And his idea of how I should pay was making me 
service him like a whore. 

Suzie: Age 15 -- My father had met my mother when he was an advisor in 
Vietnam. To him, I had never been anything more than just a 'filthy Gook'. 
And then one day he raped me just as he had raped peasant women in 
Vietnamese villages. 

Cindy: Age 16 -- When my parents were killed in a plane crash, grandfather 
said that he would be only to happy to take me in. But what he really meant 
was that he would be only too glad to get into me. 

Lisa: Age 19 - The boyfriend I brought back from college to stay with us 
during Christmas vacation was black. After he left, father decided that if I 
was 'low' enough to give myself to a Black man then I was nothing more than 
a tramp to be raped and abused. 

Elizabeth: Age 23 -- My father was lying in a hospital bed and he was dying. 
He asked me to give him one last night of satisfaction and I thought that 
since he was dying it wouldn't matter anyway. And I did want to see to it 
that my own father died happy. Christy: Age 17 -- When my brother came home 
to visit I begged him take me away with him on his travels. I didn't know 
that the price for allowing him to be my guide was to become his sex slave. 

Laurie: Age 16 - My brother's gang asked if I wanted to go into the woods 
and smoke dope, but I figured that my brother would protect me. I didn't 
know that he would take the lead in destroying my virginity and then turn me 
over to his friends. 

 CASE HISTORY ONE 

SUBJECT: Caroline AGE: Sixteen 

INTERVIEW ONE 

When Caroline came into my office I could not hazard a guess as to her 
problem. L myself had known Caroline when she was a little girl -her parents 
lived in my neighborhood - and she impressed me as being a remarkably staid 
and stable girl. The clothes which she was wearing reflected Caroline's calm 
personality. She was wearing a long, loose fitting, brownish flower print 
shift without sleeves which could hardly be described as provocative in any 
way. Her dark blond slightly curly hair was of medium length and was done up 
with style, not flair. 

And yet, that dress could not hide the abundance of her breasts nor the 
marvelous curves of her slim body. Caroline was sexy despite her 
conservative dress -- or perhaps because of it. It's possible that Caroline 
tried too hard to hide her sexiness that she wound up exuding sexuality. Her 
appearance unwittingly begged men to pull off those covers of hers' and have 
their way with her. 

Later I was to find out that this was one of the basic causes of her 
troubles. 

But at that moment I had no idea what was wrong. The only thing I could tell 
from Caroline's face was that she was so upset and distraught that she was 
on the verge of panic. Obviously, she needed my help. 

"Doctor Lamb," Caroline addressed me in a breathy voice, as she stood in the 
center of my office, "thank you for seeing me today on such short notice. 
I-I-I really don't know what I would have done if you hadn't agreed to see 
me. I really don't. If I don't tell somebody I'll go insane. I'm not 
kidding. I really will." 

I pointed at the chair in front of my desk. 

"Have a seat, Caroline," I suggested. 

She sat down and looked at me with big, pleading, violet-grey eyes. Her eyes 
were wet as if she had just been crying or was just about to cry or both. 

I leaned forward on my desk. 

"Now, Caroline, please tell me what it is that's wrong." 

She buried her face in her hands and instantly broke into tears. 

"I cant!" She murmured. "I'm sorry, Doctor. I'm sorry for wasting your time. 
I know I said that I just had to speak to you. But now I can't speak to you. 
I better go. I'm sorry, Doctor Lamb, I'm really sorry." 

"There's nothing to be sorry about, Caroline." I replied. "Obviously, 
whatever it is that's happened to you was very painful and it's also painful 
to describe it in words." 

"But, I must describe it in words! Until I tell somebody, Doctor Lamb, it'll 
all be inside of me, eating away at me. So, what am I gonna' do? What am I 
gonna' do? I can't tell, but I have to tell. Please help me, Doctor Lamb. 
Please!" 

"Caroline, you took the first step when you walked in here. And that took 
all of your energy. Now you don't have the strength to talk with. So what I 
feel you ought to do is just go home and get some rest. Then tomorrow you'll 
be ready for the second state. Then you'll tell me everything. How does that 
sound, Caroline?" 

The girl nodded her head. 

"Yes, Doctor, that sounds right. Yes, I'll do what you say. I'll go home and 
get some rest." 

"Just go right to sleep, Caroline," I told her, "and as soon as you wake in 
the morning, come here. Ill be waiting for you." 

Caroline stood up and looked right into my eyes as if she were attempting to 
judge whether I was good or evil. 

"Thank you, Doctor Lamb," she said after a few moments. "I'll do what you 
say. I feel better already. I'll see you in the morning." 

"See you in the morning, Caroline." 

She left my office and closed the door on the way out. 

INTERVIEW TWO 

When Caroline walked into my office the next day she was more composed, but 
still .upset. She was wearing the exact same kind of dress as the previous 
day except that this one was bluish instead of brownish. 

I gestured towards the chair in front of my desk and Caroline sat down. 

"Good morning, Caroline," I said, "did you sleep well last night?" 

"Yes, Doctor, thank you, I did". I feel a little better today." 

"Good. Now, Caroline, please tell me what it is that's bothering you." 

"Yes, but I don't know exactly how. I don't see how I can use the words that 
will exactly describe what happened. I can't speak of such things." 

"I see. Well, let me ask you this - who else was involved in whatever it is 
that happened to you?" 

Caroline became silent for several moments. But I could tell that she was 
not pondering the answer so much as gathering up the strength to release it. 

And then she finally answered, "My brother." 

She said it so curtly that I knew that her brother was somehow the cause of 
some deep distress to her. 

"Did your brother do anything harmful to you, Caroline?" 

The beautiful girl licked her lips and swallowed hard. Her eyes welled up 
with tears. She turned her face away from mine so that she was looking out 
the window and then she told me, "Doctor Lamb, my brother raped me. My 
brother Steve raped me. I know it must sound incredibly weird, but it's 
true." 

Immediately I realized that I was dealing with something of major 
significance which had to be handled with great care. Any traumatic incident 
such as this could leave a girl with permanent psychological injuries which 
could ruin her for life. 

"Tell me something," I said to Caroline, "how exactly did this come about? 
Did your brother simply attack you without any warning?" 

"Yes. You see... " She was starting to slide into a state of withdrawal. I 
inquired, "Did your brother never give you any reason to think that he might 
rape you?" 

"Well, Doctor Lamb, I guess that he did. But it's only looking back that I 
realize that he did. You see, I knew that my brother desired me. But I never 
thought he actually came after me in a sexual way." 

"Caroline, you say that you always knew that your brother desired you. How 
did you know that?" 

"Well, Doctor, there were a lot of different ways... " And then Caroline 
proceeded to describe the various steps which led up to the moment when her 
brother raped her. 

* * * 

As soon as my brother came back home from college after graduation I knew 
that things were not the same between us as when he had left. Before, we had 
been like friends. We used to wrestle a lot and go exploring all over the 
area. 

But even though we had been friends, everything had not always been all that 
peaceful between us. My brother could be a very violent person and sometimes 
he would just explode for no reason and just beat me up. He would always see 
that he was sorry after and then we would be friends again. But then he 
would always wind up beating me up again. It went on like that until he 
finally left for college. And when he came back from college, Steve had not 
seen me for more than three years. He came home very rarely after his 
freshman year and whenever he did come for a visit I was off somewhere else. 
So I guess Steve didn't get to see me all during that time when I was, you 
know, developing. You know what I mean, Doctor Lamb. Four years ago my 
breasts were really small and my body was all different. As soon as Steve 
walked into the house the day he got back and saw me he looked at me the 
same way all the other horny boys at school do. I hate that kind of look but 
I really couldn't take it coming from my own brother. So I went upstairs 
right away after I had said hello to him. 

But a few minutes later I heard a knock at the door. 

"Come in," I said. The door opened up and Steve walked in. He shut the door. 

"Hi, Caroline," he said. "I wanted to speak with you alone. You really 
weren't all that friendly downstairs." 

He was leering at me and studying me as if he was looking right through my 
clothes. I'm not so ignorant that I couldn't tell what was On his mind. 

"Well, Steve," I replied, "I was just kind of tired, that's all." 

"You didn't even kiss me or anything. Come on, Caroline, you're still my 
sister, aren't you? You used to kiss me all the time." 

I sighed. 

"Well, alright." 

I walked up to Steve and kissed him on the cheek. 

"Hey, what was that?" He asked. "You call that a kiss? That's not how you 
used to kiss me." 

And then he placed his hands of my shoulders, pulled me towards him, and 
kissed me on the lips. I tried to pull away but he just kept pressing his 
lips into mine, coating my lips with his hot saliva. 

Finally he did let go of me. I took several steps away from him. I'm sure he 
could tell from my face that I was angry. 

"Jesus, Caroline," he said, "what is it with you? You act like I'm some kind 
of stranger or something." 

"Well, Steve, in a way you are a stranger. 

I... " 

"Ah, you just haven't seen me in a long time, that's all. Pretty soon well 
be friends again like in the old days. Remember how we used to wrestle all 
the time?" 

"Steve, I think I'm too old for that now." 

"Oh, bullshit. I'm a college graduate now but that doesn't mean that I'm too 
old to have a little fun." 

Steve quickly moved towards me and then he grabbed me by the shoulders 
again. This time he started to pull me down to the floor. 

"Steve," I pleaded, "don't. Come on." 

But he just laughed. And then he pulled me down to the ground and placed his 
body on top of mine. I'm sure that he purposely squashed his big, muscular 
chest against my breasts. 

And then I could feel his crotch grinding into my private area. There was a 
bulge inside of his crotch and I could feel it moving back and forth across 
my vulva. I knew that Steve was having an erection and that it could only 
mean one thing. And I knew that this just wasn't right between a brother and 
a sister. 

"Steve," I said, "I think you better get off of me." 

"How come? We used to do this all the time." 

"It'slike I've been trying to tell you, Steve. I'm not a little girl 
anymore. I can't wrestle like this now. My body is... different now." 

"Jesus, Caroline. I'm not blind or idiotic, you know. I can tell that you've 
changed. But what difference should that make between us? Your body doesn't 
mean anything to me. Except out of curiosity, maybe." 

And then I felt Steve's hand upon my leg, underneath my skirt. He slid his 
hand up past my knee and continued to move his hand along my thigh towards 
my private region. 

"Steve!" I loudly protested. "What are you doing!" 

"Oh, don't make such a big deal out of it, Caroline. I just want to see if 
you got all hairy up there. Just out of curiosity." 

His hand slid further and further up along the inside of my thigh until his 
fingers had just about reached the edge of my panties. 

"Steve, if you don't get off of me right away I'm going to scream my head 
off! I mean it. Get off of me right away!" 

"Alright, alright." 

Steve pushed himself up on his knees and then stood up. He looked down at 
me. 

"I don't know what's wrong with you, Caroline, I really don't. I didn't 
think that you would become neurotic." I got up and looked into Steve's 
eyes. 

"I'm not neurotic," I told him. "It's just that" I've changed. You've got to 
understand that I'm not a little girl anymore that you can play with just 
like a toy. I'm a woman, now. Do you know what I'm saying?" 

"Yeah, I understand. You're not mad at me, are you?" 

"No, I guess not. I guess it was just a misunderstanding." 

"Well, I'll be seeing you around, Caroline. I'll probably be living at home 
for a few months until I find a job and a place of my own. So well be able 
to do things together. Okay, Caroline?" 

"Okay, Steve." 

And then he left the room. 

For the next few days I didn't see Steve much because he was out visiting 
all his old friends and girlfriends who were still around. To tell the 
truth, I was kind of glad about that. I still remembered Steve's violent 
tendencies. I wasn't pleased by the fact that he hadn't become violent after 
I had insisted he get off of me. I figured that he was just storing up all 
of his violence. 

And then one day I was in my room dressing when I heard somebody come in 
downstairs. Nobody else was home except me. I had just put on my brassiere 
and I was getting ready to step into my panties when I heard footsteps 
coming up the stairs. 

Suddenly, the door opened up - there was no lock -- and Steve was standing 
there. He was eyeing my body up and down and he carefully studied my legs 
and my private parts. I was petrified with shock. 

"Holy fuck!" He loudly expressed. "You sure got one hell of a hairy twat. I 
can't believe that you're the sweet, little sister I left when I went to 
college. I just love blonds with big, thick brown bushes. And what legs! 
Nice and long and sleek the way I like 'em. There is nothing like a big bush 
perched on top of long legs." 

I couldn't even speak. I could not believe that my own brother was speaking 
about me in this way. He moved towards me. And as he did he examined the 
crevice between my breasts. 

"Caroline," he remarked,, "you are too much. You've got everything. You got 
the kind of tits that men stop on the street to stare at. 

Finally I managed to speak out. 

"St-St-Steve," I uttered, "y-you better get out of here. For God's sakes, 
I'm not dressed!" 

"Oh, Caroline, don't freak out! I'm only commenting on the way you look, 
that's all." 

"Steve! I'm naked! Please get out!" 

"Caroline, your body . doesn't mean anything to me." 

But he stood there hungrily gazing at my body and I could see the mound 
rising within the crotch of his jeans. 

"Steve, please get out! For God's sakes, get out!" 

There were tears streaming out of my eyes. But I was more outraged than 
frightened. At that moment, I wanted somebody to come into the room and beat 
up my brother. 

And then we both heard' the car pull into the driveway. I looked at Steve to 
let him know that he had better get out now. 

Steve scared at me. 

"Jesus, Caroline," he remarked. "I really don't know what it is with you. 
I'm not a rapist you know." 

"Just get out, Steve. Just get out right now." 

He held up his palm. 

"Alright, Caroline. Alright, I'm going." 

And he did leave me alone. I ran to the door and quickly shut it. 

That evening I told my father about what had happened. I expected him to get 
angry and immediately remonstrate with Steve, but instead he just acted as 
if I was making a big deal out of the whole thing for nothing. 

He asked me if Steve had actually done anything to me and I had to admit 
that he had not. Then he just laughed and told me that I shouldn't worry 
about it. His attitude was that Steve was just fooling around with his kid 
sister and teasing her a bit and that I was taking it the wrong way. 

It seems to me now that father was siding with Steve because they're both 
men and men always stick together in such things. Of course, I don't think 
that way about you, Doctor Lamb, otherwise I wouldn't be here. But that's 
the way it is with most men. They all think that women are for nothing else 
than having sex with. I kind of knew that before but now I know it for sure. 

But at the time I thought that father was right. I decided that I had been 
overreacting to Steve and that there was really nothing to worry about. 

And then there was the day before yesterday. I'll never forget what happened 
that day for as long as I live. It was like having a nightmare become real. 
It was horrible, Doctor Lamb, just horrible! I'd forgotten just how horrible 
it all was until this moment. I wanted to tell you about it so bad but now I 
just don't know if I can. I don't know what to do, Doctor Lamb! I just don't 
know what to do!... " 

* * * 

At this point I determined that the subject was in no condition to continue 
her story. I realized that she would have to be brought to the point of 
revealing the crucial incident in daily stages. So I decided to have her 
come back tomorrow. 

But I could also tell that she was in a state of near mental collapse. Her 
nerves were completely frayed and her psyche was out of balance. I don't 
believe in drugs as a long-term solution but it was clear that she needed 
something to calm her down right now so that she would not go to pieces. She 
needed a good night's sleep so that she would be in the proper condition for 
continuing tomorrow. 

So I wrote Caroline out a prescription for some tranquillizers and for some 
sleeping pills. I told her that she should once again get a good night's 
sleep and then return in the morning. 

Caroline agreed and then she departed my office. 

INTERVIEW THREE 

The subject seemed to be in a much better state of mind when she entered my 
office the next morning. There was even a trace of a smile on her lovely, 
young face and her violet-grey eyes were completely dry. 

Caroline seemed eager to begin telling her story again so I let her go on 
without delay. She spoke in a very unhalting and matter-of-fact manner as if 
she were actually talking about somebody else. 

Once again it was time for me to just sit back and listen. 

* * * 

Once again, for several days - Caroline went on - I did not see Steve. He 
went away on a trip to the some island in the Caribbean. My father paid for 
the vacation and then he and mom decided that if Steve went to the Caribbean 
they should send themselves as well. 

So as soon as Steve got back my parents left. My other brother was going to 
summer classes up in Ithaca and my younger sister was visiting my aunt in 
Pennsylvania. So Steve and I were all alone in the house. 

But for the next two days, Steve was rarely in the house. We only ate one 
meal together -a breakfast - and we didn't talk very much then. So I didn't 
think much about Steve at all. 

And then three days ago, I came home about eight o'clock from a baseball 
game. I play for the girl's league of the church. The same team your 
daughter is on, Doctor Lamb. 

Anyway, I was really dirty and sweaty so as soon as I got home I took a 
shower. The shower felt really good and I washed my hair twice to get out 
all the grease. And I used hair conditioner because my hair was all messed 
up. I'm only telling you that because I want you to know exactly how things 
were. 

I dried off my body and then I decided to get out of the bathroom because it 
was all hot and steamy in there. I took a towel to dry my hair off and then 
I opened the door and walked out into my bedroom. As I moved towards the bed 
I was drying my hair with the towel. 

And then I saw him standing there. It was my brother. He had his shirt off 
and his big hairy chest made him look like a hulking animal. He even had his 
hands held out in front of him like claws. And there was a really mean grin 
on his face. 

I knew from what I saw in his eyes what he wanted. There was no doubt about 
it. He wasn't playing any games anymore. And he wasn't going to stop himself 
from getting what he wanted from me. He slowly studied my body from the top 
of my head to my toes. I was dripping a little with water from the shower 
and I got the feeling that this excited him. As he stripped, Steve didn't 
say a word. He just unbuckled his belt as if it were the most natural thing 
in the world to do. He kicked off his sneakers, unbuttoned and unzipped his 
pants, and then took them off. 

Then he slid his underpants down to his ankles and stepped out of them. 

I was astounded by what I saw. Up to then I had only seen pictures of 
men's... things in books in sex education class. But none of those -- well, 
penises, doctor, had ever been as big as Steve's. Or as hairy. His penis 
came out from his belly for about a foot and it seemed thicker than was 
possible for a human being. And he was hairy all over. There was black hair 
on his belly in a big clump and long hairs on his - on his balls, doctor, 
and even hair on the bottom part of the long pole between his legs. He was 
like an animal. 

And his penis kept bobbing about all over the place as if it was a living 
thing. The end of his penis was even thicker than the rest of his thing and 
it was red like a piece of charcoal. 

I didn't want to believe that he was about to stick that thing of his in me 
but I knew that he was going to. There was just no way that I could stop 
him. 

As he started to move towards me I didn't even bother to beg or plead. What 
was the use? And if I screamed he would just find a way to shut me up. 

Steve placed his huge, sweaty, rough skinned hands over my breasts and 
squeezed them so hard that it was painful. He rolled my nipples between the 
thumb and forefinger of each of his hands and then he moved his hands down 
along my body and along my tummy until he reached my pubic hairs. He moved 
his fingertips around in a circular motion through the hairs and then he 
pulled at them as if he was trying to tear them off. Finally, he moved his 
finger down to the entrance to my cunt, pried my labia apart, and shoved his 
finger into my vagina. I felt his finger squeeze through and I felt it when 
he poked his fingertip against my hymen. 

"So," he commented, "you are a virgin. That'll be messy, but it'll also be 
nice." 

Those were the last words he spoke. He stepped forward until the really hard 
tip of his penis poked into my pubic bush and then he grabbed my shoulders 
and forced me down on the bed. He placed his hands over my flattened breasts 
so that my nipples stuck into the skin of his palms and then he gritted his 
teeth and thrust his hips forward. 

His penis battered against the opening to my vagina but it was just to small 
for him to get his penis in. But instead of giving up, my brother pulled his 
hips back and lunged forward once more. He just kept pushing and twisting 
his penis into my vagina. 

It felt as though a hot, meaty rod was being shoved up between my legs. The 
flesh inside of my vagina was peeled apart and it was just as painful as if 
somebody had cut through my stomach with a knife. This time I screamed but 
Steve just placed his hand over my mouth and kept pushing his penis deeper 
and deeper into me. 

When he smashed through my hymen it felt as if my intestines had been ripped 
apart. The pain was so bad that I couldn't even make a sound. Steve just 
plunged and tore his way my tender vaginal cavity until his belly was 
pressing against my swollen, aching labia and his huge, hairy testicles were 
slapping against my behind. I could feel the skin of his penis pulsating 
against the inside of my vagina. My insides were burning and being stretched 
apart like some kind of torture. Steve's hairy chest was scraping against 
the soft skin of my breasts and his hairy belly was grinding into my own 
pubic bush. 

He pulled his penis out from between my legs and I felt a hot wetness pour 
through my vagina and spill out of my slit. Then. he slammed his thing back 
into me and just kept pulling it out and pushing his penis back into my slit 
over and over again. Every time he did this I could feel the skin of his 
penis scrape along the flesh of my vagina. 

But as he kept on pumping away something strange began to happen. I couldn't 
help becoming aware of my brother's manliness. It seemed very natural to 
have a great, big hairy man on top of me like this. At that moment, it 
seemed that this is what my body was for but I had never known it up until 
now. I felt as if it was right to have my hole filled up like this. As 
though I myself were really being filled up for the first time. 

The pain that I had first experienced started to fade away and instead there 
was this really enjoyable tingling feeling inside of my vagina and all along 
the insides of my thighs. And the tingling started to spread throughout my 
entire body. Since there was no way I could stop Steve from doing what he 
was doing I thought I might as well just go along with the pleasure. And the 
tingling just kept building and building and my vagina kept become hotter 
and hotter. This strange but very pleasurable wave of release passed through 
me and a wonderful, hot, liquidy sensation traveled along the walls of my 
vaginal I started exerting myself, trying to make the liquid flow faster in 
order to build up the pleasure. 

Then suddenly, Steve snorted like some kind of wild dog or something and he 
heaved his belly down hard against my tummy and his body froze with his 
penis stuffed all the way inside of me. I could feel his penis twitch all 
over inside of me and then I felt hot sticky fluid come flying out of his 
cock and splattering all over my insides. Steve's sticky stuff mixed with 
the liquid that was already dripping down along my vagina and soon I was all 
soaked inside. 

My brother started to - oh, I might as well say it now - he started to fuck 
me again and this time there was a really loud sort of squishy sound. I 
could feel all the liquid inside being pumped out of me and as Steve's penis 
moved in and out the pressure of his cock was getting me hotter and hotter. 
The tingling sensation that was now everywhere in my body became like tiny 
flames. I was burning, Doctor, that's how it was. And the burning was 
delightful. I guess that I was reaching ecstasy. There's no other word for 
it. It was what I used to read about in the old novels like D.H. Lawrence 
and Joyce. 

And then my brother let out this really long growl and his body became 
still. He sighed and then he pulled his cock out of me. I wrapped my arms 
around his back and tired to pull him back in but he just pulled away and 
stood up. 

* * * 

Caroline paused for several moments and looked at me with an expression of 
complete horror. So intense was her expression that I myself could feel her 
horror. I sat up straight and waited for her to speak. 

"Doctor!" She shouted. "It's not that my brother raped me that bothers me. I 
could handle that. But, Doctor, I enjoyed it! I wanted it to go on! I'm mad 
at my brother mostly because he stopped when he was finished. But I wasn't 
finished, Doctor. I wasn't finished!" 

And she just kept staring at me with that horrified expression. 

CONCLUSION 

It was clear to me that Caroline was not so much from shock from her 
brother's act of rape, but from intense guilt feelings because she had 
enjoyed the sexual experience. If her initial sexual encounter had taken 
place under different circumstance, she most probably would have been able 
to handle her feelings. 

I recommended that Caroline attend, to begin with, and all female encounter 
group during which she could listen to other young girl's recount their 
sexual adventures. I wanted Caroline to learn that it was alright to enjoy 
sex and that the fact that it had been her brother who had de-virginized her 
did not really make a difference as far as her feelings were concerned. 

During the time she attended the encounter group, I continued to counsel her 
and to make her see that her own feelings should be viewed as being distinct 
and separate from her brother's violent actions. 

Caroline had just recently concluded her all-female encounter session and I 
have scheduled her to attend a mixed encounter session. In this way, I hope 
that she will begin to adjust to men once again. I want her to hear men talk 
about sexual matters. I want her to develop a healthy attitude once again 
towards sex. 

But, in all honesty, I cannot help feeling that she may never fully adjust 
to her experience with her brother. She may never completely rid herself of 
the guilt feelings arising from that violent and incestuous initial sexual 
encounter. 

 CASE HISTORY TWO 

SUBJECT: Jennifer M. AGE: Nineteen 

INTERVIEW ONE 

As soon as Jennifer walked into my office I the impression that her 
behaviour was very affected. It was as if she were putting on a show and she 
perceived the entire world as being her audience. The implication was that 
she was in her own world which she assumed was better than any other world. 

She moved across the room like a dancer moving across the stage and then she 
twirled her body half around and floated down into the chair. She reached 
over and touched me on the wrist and then she sat back in her chair and 
peered right into my own very beautiful hazel eyes. As she talked she 
constantly narrowed her eyes and weaved her left hand through the air. After 
watching how she moved I was not surprised to find out that she was indeed a 
dancer. In particular, I found out, she aspired to became proficient in a 
form of modern dance which is conducted without music. It seemed to me that 
her life consisted of this unaccompanied form of dancing, not only in 
movement, but also in her manner of speaking. 

Jennifer definitely possessed the quintessential dancer's body. She was tall 
and very slender and her long legs were just a trace away from being skinny. 
Her breasts, however, were somewhat larger than one usually expects to see 
upon a dancer's body. Her hair was red but there was an earthy, brownish 
quality to her hair which kept the color from being too red. I couldn't help 
the feeling that the fact that she had red hair fit in with her whole 
affected and frankly, flighty personality. Yes, psychiatrists do not always 
describe individuals only in objective and technical terms. 

I have studied under Karl Jung both in America and in Vienna and I have 
conversed and argued with some of the greatest men in the field of 
psychiatry of our time. But still, I will not disregard my grandfather's 
simple adage that 'all redheads are crazy', even though most of my 
colleagues would grimace at the mention of such a vague word as 'crazy'. 

As she began talking, I could not help myself from hypothesizing that 
Jennifer was to a considerable degree removed from the world around her. 
This, I suspect, was one of the chief causes of the incestuous episode which 
she proceeded to relate to me. 

* * * 

I'm originally from Toronto, Canada, Jennifer began, and I studied Modern 
Dance at the University of Toronto. Upon graduating, I attended a very 
exclusive, and very expensive dance school and I danced in various 
non-paying performances both in the city and in various places in the 
Province of Ontario. My father, a very successful engineer, paid for all of 
my schooling as well as paying to support me. He was spending a great deal 
of money on me but I thought that he didn't mind this because I was his only 
daughter I have two older brothers - and he knew that dancing was my whole 
life. And I also believed that since my mother had died and both of my 
brothers were financially successful he didn't really have anyone to spend 
his money on anyway. 

But, in December, my father informed me that he would no longer pay for my 
apartment in Yorktown, claiming that he couldn't really afford to. I would 
either have to find a paying job or move back into the house. Since there 
would not be enough time for me to go to school and do my performances and 
work at the same time I decided to move back into the house. 

I didn't think that it would be too bad. The house was very large and my 
father and I would be the only ones living there. My room was downstairs at 
the back and there was a downstairs entrance. There was even a small kitchen 
downstairs so it seemed to be that I would be able to live a totally 
separate life from my father. 

That was to turn out to be a completely wrong assumption. 

But I didn't realize that until about a month after I lived in my father's 
house. For that first month I was hardly at home anyway, and my father was 
in Saudi Arabia for the last two weeks of the month. I think I saw him for a 
total of perhaps two hours in all of December. 

When I was not dancing I would usually just sit by the window staring out 
across our back lawn at the houses and the street on the other side. When I 
would stare out that window I would be completely aware of the images in 
front of me and yet oblivious to the world in which those images existed. I 
was seeing the world, but it was not really the world around me which I was 
seeing. In my mind, I had transported the images of this world into another 
world. The only word I could use to describe this other world is 'nowhere'. 
That is the world in which dancers dance. But perhaps I could never make you 
understand that. 

In any case, my face at that window must have become a well known image to 
the outside world. I say that because one day I had to read a book about 
dance steps when I came home so I was not at the window. As I was lying in 
my bed I heard some children cry out, 'Look, Jennifer isn't at her window'. 
That made me feel rather strange but even so, the next day I was at my 
window again. 

I felt that I simply could not allow the outside world to have any great 
affect on me. Dancers must remain removed from this world. Again, that's 
something which I don't know if you can understand. 

And it was that same day that my father came home. I hadn't even known that 
he had returned until I heard a knocking at my door. 

"Come in," I said. 

The door opened and father stepped into the room. He looked different than 
he had ever looked before. First of all, he had not shaved in two weeks. But 
there was more to it than that. There appeared to be a definite glint of 
madness in his eyes. As a dancer, such glints are immediately obvious to me. 

"Hello, Jennifer," father greeted me. 

"Hello, father,"-I replied, "how was Saudi Arabia?" 

"Oh, terrible. Hot and uncivilized. All the women are covered up. And the 
ones who are not covered up have to make sure to behave with restraint 
because they have to prove that they're not tramps. It's disgusting. There 
was no way for me to get laid over there." 

Frankly, Doctor, I was shocked and dismayed. I had never heard my father 
speak like that before. I was amused but also concerned because I didn't 
know what to make of it." 

"What are you doing, Jennifer?" Father inquired. "Still sitting by that 
god-damn window? Yeah, I know about that. The whole fucking neighborhood 
knows about it." 

"Um, father, you seem to be quite hostile. Is there any particular reason 
for that?" 

"You bet there is!" 

He came closer to me. I was now standing between the window and the end of 
my bed. 

"Ill tell you what's wrong, Jennifer," father went on. "You're totally 
useless and pathetic, that's what's wrong! I have to shell out a small 
fortune for you to take dancing lessons. But what's it all going to add up 
to? Nothing, that's what! You'll never be a dancer. You'll never be 
anything. And when you're not dancing you just sit by this window like a 
sack of potatoes staring out the window. Do you realize that you don't 
provide pleasure for anybody? Nobody goes to your stupid dance performances 
and you don't go out with men. You don't even give yourself pleasure. I 
don't think you really enjoy dancing, do you Jennifer? Huh?" 

"Father, I'm not going to talk to you when you're in this condition." 

"Oh, so you're not going to talk to me, huh? But you'll take my money, won't 
you? And live in my house." 

"Would you like me to move out?" 

"No, Jennifer. I just want you to pay for your room and board. And I want 
you to pay for your dance lessons. Everybody else had to pay for what they 
get in life, so why not you. What the fuck makes you so special, Jennifer?" 

"Because I'm a dancer, father. I thought you understood that." 

"Oh, dancer my ass. You can call yourself a dancer. And I can call myself 
the King of Siam. if I go over to Thailand start ordering people around not 
too many people are going to listen." 

"Father, that's not fair. It takes a while to actually become a successful 
dancer. I mean, in monetary terms. I'm already successful in the sense of 
learning more about dancing and about... " 

"Oh, bullshit!" He shouted right into my face. "You play while others work. 
That's what your dancing is. It's just play. You disgust me, Jennifer, you 
really do. You're nothing more than a pathetic piece of shit." 

"Father, I can't believe you're talking to me this way." 

"I'm talking to you like this because I want you to wake up. How long are 
you going to stay in that dream world of yours?" 

I must admit, Doctor, that at this point I felt completely pulverized by my 
father's words. I felt that I was indeed just what he said, 'A pathetic 
piece of shit'. I felt lower than I had ever thought possible. I no longer 
possessed any will power or even any sense of my own self. My father's words 
had completely destroyed me. 

And then father suddenly placed his hands over the crotch of my jeans and 
began to rub and squeeze my vulva. He moved his right hand up to my right 
breast and massaged my breast through the cup of my brassiere. 

"There is a way for you to redeem yourself," he said softly. 

"Father, you can't... " 

"Shut up," he quietly, but firmly ordered me. "Just shut up. Why don't you 
use your mouth for a valuable purpose for once?" 

Father worked his index finger between my lips and between my teeth and into 
my mouth. He played with my tongue and then he pulled out his finger and 
kissed me hard on my lips. 

I was too shocked to react in any way. And a moment later, father's big, 
hot, wet tongue was inside my mouth, licking away at my tongue, my teeth, my 
palate, and my gums and soaking my mouth with his saliva. He moved his face 
way from mine and looked right into my eyes while he stroked my hair. Then 
he placed his hands on top of my head and forced me down to my knees. 

"Unbuckle my pants," he ordered. 

My hands were trembling as I reached for his belt buckle and I had trouble 
doing it. 

"Jesus," father remarked, "can't you do anything right? Here, let me do 
that." 

Father unbuckled his belt and then he unbuttoned his pants. As he started to 
pull down his zipper I could see the quivering bulge within the crotch of 
his white underpants. 

As soon as father had pushed his pants down to his ankles, his huge tube of 
stiffened meat protruded out of the piss slot of his underpants. His cock 
was amazingly long and it was so engorged with blood that except for the 
protruding blue veins it was colored a deep crimson. 

Father took my hands and placed my fingers upon his fully erect shaft. I 
gently stroked the stretched skin and I felt his cock twitch erratically in 
response. "Suck on it, Jennifer," he instructed me. "It's real. Taste it. 
Eat it. Drink from it. Go ahead, you pathetic pig. Suck on it until I come 
in your mouth." 

For a second I thought of pulling away, getting to my feet, and leaving the 
house. But, where would I go? It wasn't just that I didn't have a physical 
location in the world to go to. I was lost mentally as well. 

In any case, I didn't get to make a decision. Father grabbed the back of my 
head and pulled my face towards his extended member until the fist like head 
of his cock probed between my lips. He battered his hardened penis against 
my lips until I parted my lips and then he battered his erection against my 
teeth. I opened my teeth and father worked his cock into my mouth. 

He slid his penis along the surface of my tongue and just kept pushing his 
prick further and further into my mouth until he was forcing his raging cock 
head right down into my throat. I started to gag and choke but then I 
started breathing rapidly and I managed to control myself. Being a dancer, 
body control and breath control are something in which I excel. 

At last, father had stuffed his organ so far down my throat that completely 
inserted his penis into my f; face was buried in his pubic bush and n was 
squashed against his belly. My c pressing into the crevice between his 
greasy testicles. 

I just remained perfectly still and the salty, masculine taste of his meat, 
wonderful the way his masculinity com filled my mouth. His cock was so 
stuffed into my face that his shaft was p out my cheeks. 

"Come on, suck, Jennifer," commanded. "Put some effort into it once, give 
somebody else pleasure." 

At that moment, I completely went I started sliding my lips up and down 
along length of his pipe, applying all the power to his member I could 
muster... as if I were trying to suck his come from right his balls. I knew 
that I was doing a good stimulating my father because I could hear moaning 
and groaning, louder and louder. I continued suck away. And as I sucked his 
huge cock, he thrust his hips back forth and slowly, but quite forcibly in 
my face. 

Suddenly, my father emitted a she intensely passionate shriek and he penis 
flailed within my mouth. As he shot his awesome load of boiling, sticky gism 
into my mouth I sucked even more I gently squeezed and massaged his huge, 
hairy testicles to get out every drop of his load. Father growled in a very 
guttural manner and just kept pumping his cock in and out between my 
tightened lips, blasting his final droplets of scum into my face. 

At last, father sighed heavily and his penis began to go limp. I sucked for 
a while longer until I had cleaned his tubular shaft of all scummy residue 
and then I pulled my face away from him until his cock dropped out from 
between his lips. I collected the gunky saliva within my mouth, swallowed 
hard, and then looked up at him. "You begin to earn your keep." father 
informed me. "But let me stress that you only begin. For now on, you'll have 
to earn your keep every day. What I'm telling you Jennifer, is that you are 
no longer just my daughter. For now on, you are my personal whore. I'll 
expect services in kind for every penny I spend on you. Do you understand 
me, whore?" 

I nodded my head. 

* * * 

I was obliged to stop Jennifer here. I didn't want to be insensitive but I 
can only allow each patient a limited amount of my time. Thanks to the waves 
of neuroses, perversions, and psychosis that have swept through our modern 
society I have more individuals trying to become my patient than I could 
ever possibly handle. In order to be fair to those individuals who already 
are my patients, I must ration out my time. 

Jennifer agreed to return in two weeks. 

INTERVIEW TWO 

The next time I saw Jennifer her whole personality seemed to have undergone 
a major change. No longer was she Jennifer, the performer, the 
self-perceived center of her own world. She was now a truncated, and 
denigrated human being. 

She was firmly set within the world but she was missing her vitality and, 
most of all, her aura of au Father, Jennifer explained, treats me exactly as 
he would a prostitute. At least he treats me like a high-class prostitute. 
Things could be worse. He might treat me as nothing more than a common 
streetwalker. 

The difference, Doctor Lamb, lies in the compensation one receives for one's 
services. For example, if father spends one-hundred dollars on dance lessons 
for me he expects a hundred dollars worth of sexual services in return. 

According to father, if I were a common streetwalker that would add up to 
either five blow-jobs or three fucks and a hand-job. But since he rates me a 
high-class prostitute he figures that one-hundred dollars is worth either 
two blow-jobs or one fuck. 

It's not surprising that my father should be so precise and technical about 
such things. After all, he is an engineer and his occupation is his life and 
the other way around. 

Anyway, Doctor, the other day our relationship reached its most perverse 
limits Since I last saw you I found out that I have been accepted a very 
exclusive and world famous dancing school in New York. Along with the letter 
of acceptance came a book listing the tuition costs, as well as other 
information. According to this booklet, tuition for the first semester alone 
will be three-thousand dollars. 

When I showed the booklet to father he read it and then just looked up and 
nodded his head. 

"Three-thousand dollars," he murmured. "And you're not going to even be here 
next month if you go. Not to mention that I'm going to have to pay for an 
apartment for you in New York. How the hell are you going to be able to 
provide three-thousand dollars worth of services in the next month?" 

Father pondered for several seconds. 

And then he said, "I've got a lot of friends in New York. Plenty of guys I 
went to school with at M.I.T. are living there. I think what I'll do is set 
you up as a prostitute and turn all my friends on to you. They're all big 
time engineers and they're loaded. You'll have no trouble working off the 
money you owe me." 

Father reached out for the top of my jeans and unbuttoned them. He pulled 
the zipper down about half way and then he tugged my pants and my panties 
downwards until the top edge of my reddish-brown pubic bush was exposed. He 
ran his fingertip along the hairy edge and then he slid his fingers beneath 
the top of my jeans and through my clump of pubic strands until he found the 
mouth of my cunt. He cupped his hand over my bush and inserted his finger 
into my vaginal cavity. 

"In the meantime," father went on, "you'll continue to service me. I plan on 
getting a lot of fucking and sucking out of you while you're still here." 

Father pulled out his hand and then pulled my zipper down all the way. He 
tugged my pants and panties over my hips and pushed them down to my ankles. 
Then he pried my cunt lips apart with the thumb and forefinger of his left 
hand and shoved the two longest fingers of his other hand into my pussy. The 
friction from his fingers soon spread erotic heat throughout my snatch and 
my vaginal juices drained down along his fingers and out of the mouth of my 
cunt and onto his hand. As he kept on finger fucking me, more and more 
steaming cream oozed out between my swollen cunt lips. 

While he went on finger fucking me with his right hand, father undid his 
pants with his other hand and began tugging them down over his hips. I could 
plainly see from the gyrating lump within the crotch of his pants that he 
was very excited. 

"Help me get my pants down, whore!" Father demanded. "Don't just sit there. 
You'll never earn money if you don't learn how to service men properly." 

I helped father to get his pants down and then I inserted my fingernails 
beneath the elastic band of his underpants and pulled the while garment down 
along his erect staff. When the band moved past the tip of his cock father's 
meaty penis sprung up into the air and bobbed all about. I grasped the base 
of his cock with my hand, held it steady, and began to stroking the 
stretched skin. 

Father placed his hands on my shoulders and forced me down into a chair. I 
spread my legs and he dragged the tip of his cock down through my clump of 
reddish brown hairs until his immense cock head slipped into my gaping, 
dripping pussy slit. Then he shoved his long, thick instrument into my cunt 
and plunged deeper and deeper until his organ was completely inserted within 
my vaginal cavity. He ground his vast jungle of rough pubic strands into my 
own mat of hairs and his balls slapped very hard against my pussy lips. 

Immediately, father began rapidly and furiously humping me, drawing his cock 
out of my tight hole until only the tip of his member remained and then 
plunging his huge tube of meat into me until he had completely filled my 
vaginal cavity and not a single bit of his staff remained visible. He humped 
me over and over again until at I felt his penis flail wildly within my 
snatch, banging and scraping against the walls of my womb like a jackhammer. 
Father growled like an angry bear and I felt his bursts of hot come splatter 
against the insides of my cunt. He kept humping me until he had ejaculated 
every bit of his fiery load into my slippery snatch. 

As soon as he was satiated, father pulled his cock out from between my 
thighs and looked down at my face. 

"You know," he remarked, "it's a waste for you to spend the money you make 
on dancing lessons. I think you should just go down to New York and be a 
whore. In fact, I insist upon it. That's you place in life, Jennifer, to be 
a whore. That dancing you do is just a lot of crap." 

I nodded my head. Incredible though it may seem, Doctor Lamb, at that moment 
I decided to just give up my dancing career and become a prostitute in New 
York City with my father as my pimp. I don't know why, but I just could not 
refuse his wishes. I simply had no resistance within me. 

Tell me something, Doctor, is this insanity or what? Should I accede to my 
father's perverted plans so easily? What's going to happen to me, doctor? 
Please tell me that. 

CONCLUSION 

Jennifer M. is clearly suffering from a form of Anal-Compulsive Complex with 
a strong paternal obsessiveness. Due to improper toilet training, she had 
retreated from a world which unconsciously seems filthy and dirty to her. 
Her need to become a dancer is subliminally her need to learn proper toilet 
technique, the dancing movements are for her the movements of sitting down 
on the toilet and moving ones bowels. 

But what she has needed even more is a strong paternal figure to take over 
her life. 

Subliminally speaking, she wants her father to instruct her in toilet 
training as he never did when she was a child. Perhaps Jennifer's mother 
dominated her life at that stage to the exclusion of the paternal force. Now 
that the mother is dead, the cruel father has decided to re-assert his 
paternal force. 

I cannot advise Jennifer against acceding to her father's wishes since it is 
possible that it is the presence of this paternal force at this stage in her 
life which she most requires in order to bring her out of her 
quasi-psychotic withdrawal phase. She must somehow be brought back into the 
world and if it takes the shock effect of being a prostitute while her own 
father pimps for her then so be it. 

That may seem like a bizarre solution but then these are bizarre times we 
live in. Mild, humane, and standard psychiatric treatments do not seem to 
work any longer, at least not in desperate cases such as Jennifer's. 

 CASE HISTORY THREE 

SUBJECT: SUZIE W. AGE: Fifteen 

INTERVIEW ONE 

As soon as the slim, pretty, Oriental girl into my office she looked around 
furtively as though she thought that something or someone might jump out 
from behind the furniture of the curtains and attack her. It took me about a 
whole minute to coax the girl to sit down and I was obliged to talk with her 
about menial things until at last she relaxed enough to begin telling me 
what was her trouble. 

I must confess that I found her story to be particularly tragic and pitiful. 
Her story reflected the sickness of our American way of life more than any 
other I have ever heard. 

Or ever wish to hear. 

* * * 

My father, Doctor Lamb, met my mother over in Vietnam in '64. He was a 
marine and had joined the American Army when he was only seventeen and he 
had been a military advisor to the South Vietnamese Army since 1962. In 1964 
he was assigned to one of the first American Army unit to be assigned to 
offensive combat. 

Actually, Doctor Lamb, to say that my father 'met' my mother in Vietnam is 
so dubious as to be absurd. What happened, Doctor Lamb, is that my father's 
company came into a small village in the Mekong Delta where my mother was 
living. This was the village where she had been born and where she had lived 
all of her life. The American soldiers searched the whole village and they 
did not find any Viet Cong nor any weapons of any kind. And yet, they were 
certain that the villagers were V.C. sympathizers who had been providing 
shelter, provisions, and young men for the V.C. One of the reasons they 
believed this was that there were no young men around. The American captain 
claimed that they were all with the Vietcong. My mother tried to explain to 
the captain in French that all the young men had been taken away to fight 
with the South Vietnamese Army but he didn't speak French and he didn't want 
to listen anyway. He and his men were angry, frustrated, and homy and they 
were beyond all rationality. 

The captain ordered all the young women to gather in the center of the 
village and then he and his men picked out the most attractive ones. Then 
the American soldiers proceeded to rape and abuse the screaming, protesting 
women. Those that resisted too much were beaten into submission. 

Because my father was a first Lieutenant he got to pick out one of the 
prettiest women and to have her all to himself. He chose my mother and he 
took her into an empty hut and raped her repeatedly, as well as forcing her 
to commit fellation upon him and even to lick out his ass. 

This was when I was conceived, Doctor Lamb. And if you are wondering about 
how I know all of this it is because my mother told me. She said that she 
wasn't sure that she should tell me but that she decided that I ought to 
know the truth. If I had any reason to doubt her version of the truth when 
she first told it to me I do not doubt it now. Not after what my father did 
to me. But before I tell you about that, let me continue telling you what my 
mother told me. 

After that day, she became pregnant. My father was stationed in a fortified 
mili camp nearby and he had occasion to return to that village several 
times. When he realized that my mother was pregnant with his child he felt 
as much guilt and remorse and an American is capable of feeling. And, in a 
typical American fashion, he tried to assuage that guilt and remorse in a 
materialistic fashion. He came to the village as often as he was able and he 
brought my mother food and clothes and various other luxuries. And when it 
was time for my mother to deliver he saw to it that she was admitted to the 
American Military Hospital in Saigon. And afterwards, he rented a nice 
apartment in Saigon for my mother and I. He would come there often to visit 
and to bring money and gifts. 

Finally, just before my father was scheduled to leave Vietnam, he decided to 
marry her. He didn't really love her, it was only his guilt which caused him 
to make that decision. My mother knew this but still the idea of being able 
to leave Vietnam and go to America induced her to accept his proposal. She 
obtained the necessary permission and they were married by an army chaplain 
in Saigon. Two weeks later they left Vietnam and returned to Saint Louis, my 
father's hometown. He attended law school there and upon graduating he was 
offered a position with a prestigious New York law firm, which he accepted. 
Our family moved to New York and we have lived here ever since. 

According to my mother, almost as soon as my father came back to Saint Louis 
he regretted marrying her. He started looking around at the American women 
and he greatly coveted them. My mother to him was nothing more than a filthy 
Good that he would just love to dump so that he could marry a blond, blue 
eyed, fair skinned American girl. But, once again, his guilt would not allow 
him to divorce my mother. 

But his guilt did not prevent him from fucking around with as many American 
chicks as he could get his hands on. My father is a big, handsome man and it 
was no problem for him to get his hands of as many as he wanted. My mother 
tells me that he has fucked about one-hundred other girls since they 
returned to America and I believe that. I myself, since I became old enough 
to be aware, have realized that my father was often gone from home for a 
whole evening or for several days or even for weeks. And he has even brought 
his girlfriends to our apartment when my mother has been out working or 
shopping or visiting friends. I tried to remain oblivious to what was going 
on or at least not think about it. Only since the incident with my father a 
week ago have I been forced to accept the reality of my father's infidelity. 
As for the relationship between my father and myself, until last week it was 
not so bad, but it was no so good either. My father, at least when I was 
very young, would often play with me and take me places. But he was never 
able to show any real emotion for me and I have always known that his 
sentimental gestures were basically just perfunctory As an outsider to your 
culture, I know how such behaviour is very American. I seriously believe 
that in many ways you Americans are nothing more than robots. You put very 
little feeling into most of the things you do, though you often pretend that 
you do feel. Most of you are just pretending, that is my opinion. You do 
what you think you should do. You're afraid to admit to yourselves and to 
others that you don't really feel much at all. 

You see, Doctor Lamb, even though I was raised here in America I call myself 
an outsider because my mother brought me up to have an Asiatic value system 
and an Asiatic outlet. Since my father did not care much about me he did not 
have much of an influence of my upbringing. 

And in recent years he has not bothered with me much at all. In the last two 
years he has hardly come home much but has been out whoring around with his 
American girlfriends. And when he has been home, he has spent most of his 
time getting and being obnoxiously intoxicated. He started yelling at my 
mother more and more and occasionally he would even beat her. I managed to 
avoid this sort of treatment simply by staying out of his way. In the last 
year we have barely spoken to each other or even seen each other. And that 
was just fine with me. 

But last week, father came home unexpectantly in the middle of the 
afternoon. My mother was away at her job. she works as a sales lady at a 
Vietnamese gift shop not so much because we need the money but because she 
needs something to keep her busy. When he walked into the apartment I heard 
him violently slam the door shut and then pound his feet as he walked 
towards his bedroom. I could tell that he was already quite drunk. When he 
walked into his bedroom I hoped he would just pass out but a few moments 
later I heard him approaching my bedroom. There is a separate entrance I use 
and my room is in the rear of our duplex apartment. So there could be no 
reason why fat would be approaching my bedroom except that he specifically 
wanted to see me But, for what? I wondered. 

I was lying in my bed reading a new novel I had just bought called 'Crystal 
Lines' when father pushed open my bedroom door. He had removed his tie and 
his jacket. His face was all red and his eyes were puffy. And he was swaying 
gently from side to side. 

"Hello, Suzie," he greeted me, "I haven't seen my precious daughter in quite 
a long time." 

I didn't respond. I just smiled at him as best as I was able. 

"What are you reading there, Suzie?" 

I held the book up for him to see. 

"Crystal Lines,'" I replied. "It's a brand new novel that just came out" 

"What's it about?" 

"Well, it's about all these individuals who are connected. And they don't 
find out until the end that the' reason they are all connected is that... " 
Father stopped me with a wave of his hand. 

"I don't want to hear about it," he informed me in a drunken voice. "The 
only way that people are connected is that we all happen to be on the same 
fucking planet." 

I shrugged my shoulders. Father pointed his finger at me. 

"Hey, don't do that!" He shouted. 

"Do what?" I asked him. "Give me that look of disdain." 

"But I didn't... " 

"Don't tell me! Who the fuck do you think you are anyway to look down on me! 
Don't you know what you are? You're nothing but a fucking half-breed. A 
mutant. There's nobody lower than you in the whole world." 

"Father, don't say things like that!" I pleaded. "I'm your own daughter. 
Your only child. You should respect... " 

"I respect nothing! Especially not you. Do you know how you came to exist? 
Well, I'll tell you. I threw your mother down on packed dirty floor, placed 
my hand over her mouth, and raped the shit out of her. I just pumped her 
full of come until one of my sperm hit her egg. And that's how you were 
born. What do you think of yourself now, you stinking, little bastard!" 

"Father, you must be losing your mind." 

He walked along the side of the bed and pointed his index finger right into 
my face. 

"You just watch your filthy mouth!" He admonished me through gritted teeth. 
"Just because you're half American doesn't change what you really are. 
You're just a god-damn filthy, little Gook bitch! You're not fit for 
anything but to live in shit and be fucked like a dog. I never should have 
set you and your fucking mother up in a nice place like this. You're not fit 
to be here. I should have you out in a hut in the woods." 

I wanted very much to cry but I managed to restrain my tears as well as my 
voice. 

"Father," I calmly said, "get out of my room. Just get out of my room at 
once." 

"Your room!" Father shrieked. "You stinking, Gook piece of shit! None of 
this is yours. You have no right to any of this. You're not an American. I 
saw buddies of mine get their guts blown away for you fucking Gooks. And you 
want to take what they should have now? There's no way that you deserve 
that. The only thing you Gook whores are good for is to be thrown down on 
the ground and fucked like pigs. That's what I should do to you. Rape the 
shit out of you and then make you suck my dick just like I did your fucking 
mother!" 

Now I did start crying. I could not help myself. And I started to cry more 
and more tears until I was sobbing uncontrollably. 

"Oh, don't pull that trick on me, little girl. I don't fall for the crying 
bullshit. I've seen buddies of mine walk across a field to help some crying 
Gook bitch only to see them get blown up by a Claymore mine. The crying Gook 
was a decoy. So, don't try to pull that shit on me. Do you understand. 

But I just couldn't stop crying. I'm sure you can understand why under the 
circumstances. 

"I said knock it off!" Father shouted. 

And then he suddenly lashed out with his right hand, grabbed the front of my 
blouse, and pulled it apart. Next, he reached down between my breasts, and 
ripped apart the front of my brassiere. 

Father's face was grinning menacingly as he studied my naked breasts. 

"You know," he said, "you've got pretty big tits for a Gook. But then you're 
American. I guess you get your tits from my side of the family. 

He cupped his hands over my breasts and rubbed his hands up and down, 
squeezing my nipples between his fingers. Then he massaged my breasts in a 
circular motion and pressed down hard. My breasts were squashed against my 
chest and I could feel my nipples digging into the skin of his palms. 

He took his hands away from my chest and unbuckled his belt. Then he undid 
his pants and pulled his pants and his underpants down past his knees. His 
monstrous penis was already fully erect and the great, meaty rod was swaying 
from side to side. 

Father pointed at his throbbing cock head "This is all the food a Gook whore 
needs," He informed me. "Chomp on this, you little, fucking pig!" 

He lowered his knees onto the bed and jammed his huge cock hand between my 
lips until the hard, salty meat pressed against my teeth. At that moment I 
seriously thought of opening my mouth and then biting his cock right off. 

But as if he had read my mind, father pulled a switchblade knife out from 
his pants pocket, opened it, and pressed the sharp tip of the blade against 
my Adam's apple. 

"Oh, you little Gook cunt," he said. "I know how vicious you slopeheads can 
be. You just open your mouth and let me fuck your face, you little Gook 
bitch. And if you cause me just the slightest bit of pain this knife is 
going to go right through your fucking throat." 

Then I knew that I must obey. I was convinced that my finally had finally 
lost what was left of his mind. I was completely fearful of him and I had no 
doubt that he would kill me. To him, I was no longer a real human being but 
merely a 'Gook' who could be done away with like an animal. 

I opened my mouth as wide as I could but my father did not stick in his cock 
right away. Instead, he swayed his hips from side to side and slapped the 
sides of my face with his huge, stiff shaft. He cock-whipped me in this 
manner for several seconds and then he started to laugh hysterically. 

"How does that feel, Gook cunt?" He inquired. "You know, you have such a 
pretty face for a Gook. A lovely face, really. But that's only because 
you're half American. Most of you Wogs are as ugly as warts, like your 
fucking mother. God, you probably can't even begin to image how it disgusts 
me to have to look at her and know that she is my wife." 

And then father stopped slapping my face with his cock. He held the tip of 
his pulsating rod in front of my mouth and then he lunged forward and 
stuffed his meaty slab all the way into my face until that massive head of 
his tool had been shoved right down into my throat. I wasn't able to breathe 
and I'm sure that father, knew this. But he did not extract his organ. 
Instead, he churned his tube of flesh within my throat and ground his long, 
pubic strands into the soft skin of my face. I really thought that I was 
going to die from suffocation. 

And then I heard my father whine and grunt just like some kind of beast. I 
felt his penis expand until it pressed outwards against the walls of my 
throat and then a moment later I felt him disgorge his thick, hot, orgasmic 
fluid into my throat. I had to swallow fast and hard to get the sticky gunk 
down or else I would choke. 

At last, father did pull his penis out of my face. He grabbed the base of 
his cock and aimed his monstrous tool in all directions so that his slimy 
load spurted out of his piss slit and all over my face. He ejaculated 
slithers of gray semen upon my forehead and upon my eyelids and upon my nose 
and upon both sides of the side of my face. Then he pressed the tip of his 
raging member against my lips and ejected the last drops of his load all 
over my lips and my chin. 

* * * 

At this point, Suzie's head slumped down into her hands and she sat still 
and quiet as if she were exhausted. I didn't think she had the energy to 
continue and besides, to be frank, her time had run out. So I suggested that 
she go home and return the day after tomorrow. Suzie explained to me that 
she couldn't go home for the simple reason that she couldn't possibly put up 
with her father any longer. I completely understood this and I arranged 
through a friend of mine who works over at Social Services that Suzie should 
stay at the house of a social worker. I gave the girl the address of this 
Social Worker and told Suzie to take a taxi there. The poor girl agreed and 
then she departed my office. 

I called her home and explained to her mother who I was and what I had 
arranged for her daughter. Suzie's mother readily agreed that Suzie should 
not come home and asked me to do for her whatever I thought best. I told her 
I would and then suggested that she herself call up social services and 
explain the situation at home. I gave her the name an number of my friend 
who works over there. 

Suzie's mother said that she would call and then we said goodbye to each 
other. I hung up the phone and immediately started to wonder how anybody 
could behavior in such a repulsive manner as Suzie's father. 

No matter how long I practice psychiatry I will never get used to hearing 
about human degradation and abuse. 

INTERVIEW TWO 

As soon as Suzie W. walked into my office I could tell that she was much 
more relaxed than the last time. Being away from home had enabled her to 
dispel the fear and tension that had gripped her mind. Naturally it would be 
horrible for a girl to have to live at him and never know when her father 
might attack and rape her. 

I knew I had done the right thing by sending her to live with that social 
worker. Under the circumstances, I didn't see how it would be possible for 
her to ever return home as long as her father was still living there. 

After discussing the place where Suzie was staying and the sympathetic and 
kind woman she was staying with, I let Suzie go on telling me about what her 
father had done to her. 

Her story became not only more perverse, but more bizarre as well. 

* * * 

After father had come all over my face, a completely insane expression came 
over his face. His eyes popped out of his skull and burned with madness and 
I knew that he had finally gone berserk. What he did in the next few minutes 
confirmed my suspicion. 

Father ripped open my chins with his knife and then slashed through my 
panties until my pubic region was exposed. He was not very careful with the 
knife and as he was tearing open my clothes he had cut through my skin at 
several places. I was bleeding and I was in pain but of course he was 
indifferent to that. "Please, please stop!" I begged. "Please leave me 
alone. What do you want from me?" 

He slapped me hard across my face and then grabbed my hair and pulled my 
head up off of the pillow. 

"We want you to talk, you little Gook cunt! We want you to tell us where 
your boyfriend's company is at. We know who you are, and we know who your 
boyfriend is. He sent you to this village to spy on us. That's a capital 
offense in wartime, cunt. I could slit your throat right now and not even 
have to bother to report it. And don't bother to pretend that you don't know 
what I'm saying because I know that you speak perfect English. You received 
you're training in Hanoi. Yes, we know all about you." 

Obviously my father had become psychotic. He thought that he was back in 
Vietnam and that I was a North Vietnamese spy. 

I realized that I wouldn't stand any chance of surviving at all unless I 
played along with this frighteningly insane game of his. 

Father shook my head from side to side. 

"Talk!" He shouted. "Tell us their position." 

He placed the edge of the knife across my Adam's apple. 

"Tell us," he went on, "or I'll cut your throat open right now. We don't 
have time to waste to torture you." 

I swallowed hard. I had to strain my mind to think up an answer and I also 
had strain my voice to be able to speak. But I really didn't think that I 
was going to get out of this alive. 

"The company is to the southwest of here," I told him. "Just by the river." 

I had heard my father talk about the war many times and I knew certain 
technical, military things about it. 

"They're in tunnels by the river," I further explained. "You can only get 
into the tunnel through an underwater entrance in the bank. To the 
southwest. About due southwest. I don't know the exact compass bearing but 
there's a huge boulder by the river right over the tunnel. That's it." 

My father twisted my hair around his fist until it felt as if he was going 
to tear my hair right off of my head. I couldn't stop myself from 
whimpering. 

"You better not be lying," he warned me. "Because they'll be no help for you 
if you do. Nobody's going to rescue you and nobody's going to order your 
release. Do you understand what I'm telling you?" 

"Yes. Yes, I understand." 

"I hope you do." He pulled me off of the bed and threw me down hard onto the 
floor. When I looked up at his twisted, cruel face I could see that he was 
glaring at my pubic region. Automatically, out of shame, I pressed my thighs 
together and placed my hands over the triangular patch of black hair upon my 
belly. 

"Take your hands away, Gook bitch!" Father commanded. "There's no reason for 
a whore like you to be ashamed. Let me see your fucking cunt." 

I had no choice but to remove my hands so that father could ogle my pubic 
patch. He crouched down and ran his finger along my belly, through my pubic 
hairs, and down to the place where my bush tapered off into a point between 
my thighs. 

"Spread your legs, cunt," father insisted. "Spread 'em wide. I want to see 
your pussy slit smile at me." 

I spread my legs apart until the mouth of my cunt gaped open into my vaginal 
cavity and then he reached between my thighs and pressed his finger against 
the tender, membraneous flesh of my vagina. 

"Looks like you've got a nice, tight little hole," father remarked. "Now, 
turn over on your hands and knees and stick your ass up into the air. I'm 
going to fuck you doggy style. You Gook whores are all nothing more than 
dogs anyway so it's only fitting. Now move, cunt!" 

I turned over and raised myself up on my hands and my knees. Then I stuck my 
ass way up into the air. Father lost no time. I heard him shuffled forward 
on his knees and then he entered me from behind. His hefty, broad cock 
pushed into my vaginal cavity and he plunged deeper and deeper until he had 
completely filled my cunt. I could feel his pubic hairs bristling against my 
ass. The crinkled skin of his testicles was slapping back and forth against 
my pussy lips. 

He placed his hands on my shoulders and slowly slid his hardened penis out 
of my hole. Then he moved his hands down along my sides and took a hold of 
each of my hanging breasts. He fondled my nipples and then pushed upwards 
until my breasts were squashed between my chest and his palms. 

"Your tits make pretty good handles," he told me. "Now I'm going to hump 
your brains out." 

He squeezed hard on my breasts and I felt his extract his expanded tube of 
meat from out of my overstuffed pussy. Then he began to hammer his cock in 
and out of my cunt. His hairy belly smashed against the cheeks of my ass and 
his hard driving loins pummeled my sore pussy lips. His humping became 
faster and faster and more and more forceful. He layed the upper part of his 
torso down upon my back and exerted too much weight on me to bare. I 
collapsed onto the floor and father just kept drawing his elongated penis in 
and out of my hole. I could now fell his pubic strands scraping within the 
crack of my ass. The skin of his instrument was joined so tightly against 
the flesh of my vaginal cavity that I could feel the heat building up from 
the friction produced by his humping motions. The pain just grew and grew 
and it felt as if my guts were just going to blow right apart. 

But at last I heard my father start sputtering and snorting like a beast and 
I felt his globules of semen hurtle against the inside walls of my pussy. He 
gripped my shoulders tightly as he pumped his gooey come into my cunt and he 
continued to draw his shaft in and out between my swollen cunt lips. He 
grunted loudly as his body froze with his cock planted deeply inside of me. 
He flung the remaining bit of his load into my pussy and then his body 
relaxed on top of mine. He layed the side of his head against my back and 
just rested while he caught his breath. 

There was nothing for me to do but just lay there and somehow put up with 
the revulsion I was experiencing. I hoped that at least the insanity had 
been drained out of him along with his gism. 

And then he quickly pulled his cock out of my hole and stood up. 

"Turn over, pig," he ordered. 

I turned over on my back and the man who fate had made my father looked into 
my eyes. 

"I'm going now to check on your story," he told me. "And if you're lying, 
when I get back I'm going to disembowel you in such a way that you won't die 
right away. Then I'm going to watch as the pigs eat your intestines." 

I thought to myself, Oh, Jesus, there's no end to this insanity. 

"I had better tie you up first," Father decided. "Otherwise, I'm sure you'd 
try to escape. 

Father got some nightgowns out of my chest and used them to find my feet and 
my ankles. Then he tied my wrists and my ankles together so that my back was 
painfully arched. He tied another nightgown around my mouth so that it 
served a gag and then he left. As soon as he was gone I started to wonder 
about what he was going to do to me when he got back. What would happen when 
he got out into the streets of New York City? Was he really so insane that 
he was going to wander around the city looking for a tunnel by the riverbank 
used by the Vietcong? I didn't know. I really didn't know." 

Fortunately, my mother arrived home before my father did. She untied me and 
I explained to her what had happened. My mother took it all in rather 
calmly. To a Vietnamese women, such things are the staple of life. And she 
had long expected that something like this would happen when I got older. 

She considered calling the police but finally decided that instead she would 
call some friends of my father's who served with him in Vietnam. Two of the 
men agreed to stay with us to protect us from father when he returned. When 
father didn't come either that night or the next morning, the two men were 
replaced by two other men, also Viet Vets who had served with my father. 

One of them was the doctor who recommended that I come and see you. As far 
as I know father had not yet come back to the apartment. And I hope he never 
does. Frankly, Doctor Lamb, I hope they find the bastard dead somewhere. 

CONCLUSION 

No, I didn't think this was a terrible thing Suzie W. to think about her 
father. I made her understand that there was no reason why she should feel 
guilty about such feeling towards her own father in light of what he had 
done to her. 

As for her treatment, after several more sessions I decided that Suzie had 
not reacted very badly at all to her incestuous experience. I recommended 
that she continue to see me for a while but the real solution to her 
problem, it seemed to me, was to keep her father away from her. 

I called up Suzie's mother again and persuaded her to issue a warrant for 
the arrest of her husband, which she did. Meanwhile, I also arranged for 
Suzie to continue to stay at the home of the social worker until such time 
as her father is apprehended. 

Suzie's story had been, for me, another lesson in a particularly American 
form of sickness. Americans have a way of building up hates and prejudices 
which are finally released from them in a sudden, secretive, and often 
bizarre manner. 

The incident between Suzie W. and her father is one such example. There are 
many more. Such incidents are happening somewhere now between the Atlantic 
and the Pacific as well as in Alaska and Hawaii. 

And I fear that they will be going on for quite a long time. 

 CASE HISTORY FOUR 

SUBJECT: Cindy W. AGE: Sixteen 

INTERVIEW ONE 

When Cindy W. walked in she appeared calm. It was to take me a while before 
I realized that she had only adopted this composure as her way of dealing 
with a very traumatic experience. Actually, Cindy was in a state of complete 
shock. Indeed, she was not very far from being comatose. But I could see 
right away that she was very, very pretty. What is more, she possessed the 
sort of sweet and gentle prettiness that one simply does not see very often 
these days. 

Her long hair was colored a peach blond and it was tied behind her head in a 
pony tail. Her e medium blue eyes were large and pleasant and her compaction 
was mostly creamy, but slightly ruddy like that of a baby. But in contrast 
to her smooth, clear, innocent face were breasts were fairly large and they 
appeared to be firm and well shaped. Cindy's body was slim and sensually 
curved but I wouldn't really describe her body as voluptuous. In summary, 
her appearance was sexy but without being overly so. Her image was that of 
the country girl that might invite a young man to spend some time with her 
in a hayloft. 

She stood about five foot, eight inches and she was wearing flat shoes. And 
she was wearing a maroon skirt and a blouse with red and green flower prints 
on it. Her clothes accentuated her attractiveness and were congruous with 
her face. 

And, what is more, she had a very warm, pleasing smile. Her eyes twinkled in 
a certain way when she smiled which let me know that she was Irish. Like 
many of the girls who come to me she was not able to tell me her problem at 
first. So for about fifteen minutes we talked about the weather and about 
the gasoline shortage and about whether or not teenagers were still using 
drugs. I was trying to get her to loosen up and start really communicating 
with me but there seemed to be no way. I was beginning to think that I would 
never break through. . 

And then suddenly Cindy loudly stated, "I've had sexual intercourse with my 
grandfather! My own grandfather! Doctor, do you understand what I'm telling 
you?" 

I told her that I did understand and I urged her to relate to me exactly 
what had happened between her and her grandfather. At that point, Cindy's 
inhibitions broke down completely and she began to talk freely. 

* * * 

I was away at boarding school in Connecticut and it seemed as though nothing 
bad could ever possibly happen to me. Frankly, Doctor Lamb, my parents were 
well off. They had secluded me in a genteel little world up in Connecticut 
which was quite removed from the rest of the world outside. 

Up at the Delanovil School for Young Ladies our only concerns were passing 
exams and competing in the intra-mural volleyball playoffs. And all of us 
knew that it wouldn't matter how well we did at school because we were so 
wealthy and well connected that we would be able to get anything out of life 
we desired without much more than lifting a finger. 

As far as sex was concerned, I didn't think much about it. It simply wasn't 
a big part of my life. I had gone out with several boys from other area 
private schools but I hadn't ever done more with any of them but allow them 
to kiss me on the lips. Last summer, I did allow a boy up at a marina in 
Massachusetts to touch my breast for a few seconds. But that was the most 
sexually involved I had ever become with a boy. 

And then one day, about a month ago, I was out in the field playing 
volleyball when I heard my voice being paged over the loudspeaker. A voice 
told me to go to the administration building and that is what I did. 

When I got there, I was immediately ushered into the office of Miss Shaver, 
the principle of her school. I could tell from the gloomy expression on her 
face that she had some bad news for me. But I just stood in her office and 
waited for her to speak. "Cindy," Miss Shaver began, "I'm afraid I have 
something terrible to tell you. I wish there was a gentle way to say this, 
but there isn't. Cindy, your parents and your brother and were sister 
were... were killed in a plane crash this morning. There's no doubt about 
that information. I wouldn't have told you if I were not absolutely sure." 

I remembered that my mother and my father had taken my younger brother and 
sister down to Florida to see Disney World. Then my parents were going to 
leave the children with my grandparents in Miami and fly down to some island 
in the Caribbean. 

At first, I didn't really comprehend what Miss Shaver had said to me. But 
then, after a few moments I did understand. And then this feeling of horror 
rose up' inside of me. It felt like a hot knife was cutting right through my 
body. 

Doctor Lamb, it seems like from that moment my whole life changed. 
Everything became like a dream after that, a terrible dream. Voices were 
like echoes and faces were like ghosts drifting around in front of me. I 
haven't even been exactly certain about what's been going on. 

I recall crying when Miss Shaver told me that my parents had been killed. 
But it was like another person inside of me was doing the crying. I myself 
didn't feel anything at all. Not at all. To tell you the truth, Doctor, I'm 
still not sure whether I really feel anything or not.' I'm not sure I 
remember exactly what real feelings are. 

Anyway, Doctor, my father's brother and his wife came to the school and 
drove me to their house. I went with them to the cemetery and then I went 
back with them to their house where the wake was being held. 

I stayed with my aunt and my uncle for a while and while I was there I found 
out a number of things in regards to my parent's demise. First of all, as 
the only surviving child, I was to receive the bulk of their vast estate. 
And not only that, but my parents had taken out flight insurance policies on 
each of their lives and I was also to receive the death benefits from those 
policies. That added up to another half a million dollars. 

In short, Doctor Lamb, I was quite suddenly a very rich girl. But I was not 
a happy girl at all. I didn't want my parent's money or the money from their 
flight insurance policies. I wanted them! And I also wanted my little 
brother and sister. But these people were gone from my life forever. They 
would never return. That seemed incredible to me but I knew it was true. 

My various relatives continually showed up at my uncle's house and they all 
discussed what should finally be done with me. At last it was decided that 
there was no reason why I should not return to the Delanovil School. But it 
was now Spring Vacation and my aunt and uncle had planned to go away to 
Europe at this time. They had already paid for a suite on the Queen 
Elizabeth Two. 

But my grandfather - my late father's father - said that I could come and 
stay with him until it was time for me to return to school. He had a house 
way up in the Adirondacks in the middle of nowhere. 

I had always loved that house. It was perched just beneath the crest of a 
long mountain and it looked out over a large lake in a valley below. Only a 
narrow, dirt road led up to that house and much of the building materials 
had been brought in by helicopter. 

The house had cost my grandfather a fortune to build. It was rather large. 
There was a huge cellar with a swimming pool, a sauna, a steam room and a 
gym in it. Even a one lane bowling alley! And upstairs the place was 
arranged around a big courtyard with the most wonderful garden in it. Four 
wide, clear plexiglass tubes led from the center of each side of the 
courtyard so that you could walk into them from the house. Each of the tubes 
led up to a large, plexiglass globe which held a small kitchen, a dining 
table, and a big telescope. The globe was raised up off the ground and held 
there at the ends of the converging plexiglass tubes. So the garden was not 
only all around the globe but also under it. 

"I'm telling you, Doctor, that house was the most wonderful place. Despite 
the fact that my parents had just died I must admit that I was excited about 
going there. 

My grandfather and I drove in his limousine to a small, private airport. I 
had always liked him and I held his hand as we drove along. He smiled at me 
with his kind, well lined face and I felt very comforted. Finally, I leaned 
my head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around me. We drove like that 
the rest of the way to the airport. 

At the airport, my grandfather and I boarded a helicopter which flew us all 
the way up to the Adirondacks. The helicopter flew over the mountains which 
were now all covered with snow and landed on a small landing pad. After the 
pilot had helped my grandfather carry some groceries and other stuff into 
the house, the pilot took off. My grandfather and I watched the helicopter 
go and I waved goodbye to the pilot who waved back. 

And then we were alone. Way up there in the mountains. Just my grandfather, 
myself, and that huge house. 

The air was freezing and snow was beginning to fall. We went into the house 
and ate a lunch of fresh oysters and pizza inside the plexiglass globe. A 
fierce snowstorm had now developed and we watched the thick, heavy flakes 
drift down all around the globe. It was wonderful, just wonderful. 

Maybe you're thinking that it's a bit strange that we ate oysters and pizza. 
Well, Doctor, if you knew my grandfather you wouldn't find that surprising. 
He was the kind of guy that I guess most people would describe as eccentric. 
But really that's a stupid word. He just liked to do different kinds of 
things and to try to get a lot of enjoyment out of life, that's all. And I 
really loved him and thought a lot of him. I always had. And I probably 
still would if my grandfather hadn't done that terrible thing to me. 

It happened that night... 

* * * 

And then Cindy suddenly stopped. I asked her to please go on but she started 
shouting, "No, no! I can't tell! Don't make me tell! Don't make me!" 

I stood up and tried to comfort Cindy but she just kept screaming and 
shuddering. I was obliged to call in my nurse and ask her to hold the poor 
child while I injected a sedative into Cindy's arm. 

The girl kept flailing all about and shouting until the sedative finally 
took effect. Then she sat peacefully and quietly and finally drifted into 
sleep. 

I should now explain that Cindy had been discovered walking along the New 
York State Northway, a highway in upper New York State. She had been 
babbling incoherently and she was not wearing any clothes. And it was the 
dead of winter. 

The local authorities had placed her into an institution while they had 
attempted to find out her identity. But they had not been able to and nobody 
had showed up to claim the child. So at last they had sent her down to me, 
accompanied by a nurse. The nurse had gone out for lunch when Cindy had come 
into my office. 

When the nurse from the institution arrived I instructed my nurse to help 
her take the girl downstairs. I had arranged for the nurse to take Cindy to 
a small, private institution in Manhattan which was run by a friend and 
colleague of mine. And I also told the nurse that she should bring Cindy 
back for further consultation in three days. 

After Cindy was gone I contacted the proper authorities by phone and told 
them the information which I had gleaned from Cindy. Providing that the girl 
was speaking the truth, I knew that she had attended the DeGrandis School in 
Connecticut. That would be sufficient for finding out her true identity. 

INTERVIEW TWO 

By the next time Cindy had returned to my office I had found out that she 
had not been lying about attending the Delanovil School. In fact, it turned 
out that everything which she had told me was true. I now knew her exact 
identity and I had been in contact with several of her relatives. 

Except for her grandfather. I discovered that there was no telephone link to 
his house in the Adirondacks. He did possess a radio, however, and Cindy's 
uncle promised that he would try to get in touch with him. 

In any case, her uncle did agree that the girl should be left in my care. He 
had heard about me and he knew that my reputation was world-wide and 
excellent. 

Once again, Cindy and I talked about various purely conversational matters 
for about fifteen minutes. And then she suddenly started talking about her 
experiences at her grandfather's house once more as if she were picking up 
from where she had left off. 

* * * 

After lunch, Grandfather told me that he was going to take a nap. He said 
that I was free to wander through any part of the sprawling house and that I 
should consider his house as my own. 

So when grandfather retired to his bedroom, I went on a tour of his isolated 
house on the mountain. 

I wandered through the long, wide hallway on the southern side of house and 
stepped into the music room. This room had shelves all along the .walls 
which were lined with records. And all kinds of records too. Not just 
classical records, like you might expect from such an old man, but also 
.jazz and even Rock and Roll. 

There was a control panel for the audio system in the center of one of the 
walls and four tremendous speakers in each of the corners, near the ceiling. 
I supposed that the equipment itself must be hidden away somewhere behind 
the shelves. 

I put on a record by a Rock group called 'The Who' and the sound was 
absolutely terrific. It was as though all four members of the band were 
right in the room playing their instruments and singing. I had never heard 
anything quite like that before. 

After listening to one whole side of the album I put it away and turned off 
the audio system. I decided that I would explore the rest of the house. 

I walked into the hallway, went to the end of the hallway and turned, and 
walked along the western hallway until I spotted a green door. I opened the 
door and went inside. 

There was a room with a plexiglass dome on the ceiling which was filled with 
more than a dozen pin ball tables as well as all kinds of electronic games. 
I absolutely adore pinball and I played about ten games until I finally got 
tired of it. I played several of the electronic games and then I finally got 
bored with those two. So I continued my exploration of grandfather's house. 

I found the television room - which had a gigantic screen built into the 
wall, and the billiards room, and a radio room and a bathroom with a great, 
big sunken tub which looked like it would take about an hour to fill. I 
determined that I would take a bath in that tub later that evening. 

And then I opened a red door and found myself in a vast, high-ceilinged 
library. The decor seemed strange because the rest of the house was 
ultra-modern whereas the library looked like something out of an old movie. 
There were three levels of book lined shelves and between each level was a 
gridded, metal walkway. Ladders led from the floor to the next level and 
then up to the third level. I could see all the way up through the space 
between the walkways to a glass skyway. The snow was still falling and it 
was crashing against the glass. Right away, I climbed up to the second level 
and moved along the walkway, examining the shelves. There were the usual 
kinds of classics that you would expect to find in an old looking library 
like this. Hard covered volumes of Dickens and Hardy and Hugo and 
DeMaupissant as well as books on Medicine and Geography. I wasn't in the 
mood to read any of these kinds of books - even though I'm usually a 
voracious and sophisticated reader - and so I didn't pull any of the books 
out of the shelves. 

But then suddenly something caught my eye and I came to a stop. There was a 
long shelf filled with different colored paper back books. I turned my head 
and looked at the bindings on a set of black paperbacks. All of them were 
titled 'Violent Stories of:' followed by something else in smaller letters. 
For example, there was 'Violent Stories of: Rape and Abuse', and 'Violent 
Stories of: Incest'. And it just went on and on like that. 

I was completely shocked. I just couldn't belief that these books were in my 
grandfather's library. I thought to myself that perhaps somebody else had 
put these books here but then I realized that this was my grandfather's 
sacred abode and that he was all alone here. Nobody would put any books onto 
the shelves of his library other than himself. 

As I moved along a bit I noticed a set of red paperbacks. I turned my head 
and glanced at the title on the binding. It read: 'Pussy Eating Nympho 
Sluts'. 

This was too incredible. Those disgusting words seemed like something which 
were a million worlds removed from my grandfather. Certainly I knew that he 
was a unique character. But he was not a pervert. Not my friendly faced old 
grandfather. 

There was a coughing sound from down below. I looked down and saw my 
grandfather's face. He was smiling. I forced myself to smile back down at 
him. 

And then I realized that grandfather was looking through the gridded walkway 
and up my dress! That's why he was smiling like that I quickly brought my 
legs together and stepped back against the shelf. 

"Hello, Cindy, dear," grandfather called out to me. "I'm glad to see that 
you found my special collection. As you can see, I've collected all the 
classics. Not just the classics of legitimate literature, but the classics 
of pornography as well. You really should read those books. I'm sure there's 
a lot you could learn from them. Much more than you'll ever learn by 
attending that idiotic, snobbish school in Connecticut." 

I didn't know what to say so I stayed silent. 

Grandfather climbed up the ladder and moved along the walkway until he was 
standing right in front of me. I couldn't help noticing how quickly and with 
what agility he moved for a man in his late sixties. 

* * * 

I glanced at the book whose title had caught my attention and grandfather 
pulled it out from the shelf and looked at the cover. 

"Ah, 'Pussy Eating Nympho Sluts'," he said. "That is truly a great work. 
Every young lady should be made to read that. And this one as well." 

He pulled another book out of the shelf and held up the cover in front of my 
eyes. "The Bitch's Lesson," he stated. 

I read those words on the cover and looked at the drawing of a young woman 
whose arms and feet were bound and who was prostrate on her knees before a 
naked man. He had his hand at the back of her head as if he were about to 
move her head towards his huge tool. I couldn't even - or didn't want to - 
imagine what he was about to make her do. 

"Every girl," grandfather went on, "should learn the lesson's that this 
bitch learned in this book. In my opinion, this is about all a woman needs 
to know. There isn't really any purpose for a female other than to serve a 
man sexually. Women can't really analyze or speculate or rationalize very 
well. They're not even properly sensitized, if you ask me. So why shouldn't 
they just provide men with pleasure? After all, life is short." 

He paused for several seconds. 

And then he asked, "Do you know what I'm talking about Cindy?" 

I didn't respond. "No, I guess you don't." grandfather answered his own 
question. 

He reached and stroked my long, peach blond hair. Then he brought his 
fingers down along the side of my face and pressed his fingertips against my 
lips. He moved his fingertips from side to side along my lips and then he 
worked my lips apart and touched my teeth. 

"Cindy," grandfather said, "you happen to be a very beautiful girl. But you 
must learn to use your beauty for a worthwhile purpose. You certainly 
mustn't let these luscious lips of yours go to waste... " Grandfather 
glanced down at my breast. Then he cupped his right hand over my right 
breast and gently fondled and pinched my breast through my blouse and 
through the cup of my bra. 

"And these breasts," grandfather added. "You know, they won't stay firm and 
ripe and succulent forever. One day they'll began to soften and sag. You 
must make use of them before that happens. Or I should say, you must let 
others make use of them." 

Grandfather began to unbutton my blouse with his nimble fingers. As he 
unbuttoned more of the buttons he slid his fingertips back and forth across 
the skin of my breasts and across my midriff and across my tummy. He twirled 
his fingertip around in my inverted belly button and then inserted his 
fingertips beneath the band of my skirt. He worked my teeth apart with the 
fingers of his other hand and then moved his fingers around in my mouth. He 
played with my tongue and slid his finger in. "Cindy, tell me something, 
have you ever let a man play with your tit before?" 

Grandfather removed his left hand from my mouth and moved it down along the 
bare portion of my left breast. Then he inserted his fingertips beneath the 
cup of my bra and moved his hand down along my breast until he had cupped 
all of my breast in his hand. He grasped my nipple between his thumb and 
forefinger and squeezed it quite hard. "Answer me, Cindy!" He loudly 
insisted. 

And then he squeezed my nipple even harder as if to urge me to respond. 

I swallowed hard and then I answered, "Well, I did once allow a boy to touch 
my breast." 

Grandfather laughed. 

I mean, he said, "did you ever allow a boy to really fondle your breast. The 
way I'm doing now?" 

"No, Grandfather, I never did." 

"Just as I thought." 

He pushed his hand down further into my pants and slid his fingers along my 
tummy until I felt his fingertips moving through my pubic hairs. And he kept 
pushing his fingers further and further downwards until his fingertips were 
probing into the entrance to my vagina. He worked his finger between my 
inner labia - that's what we had learned to call them in Sexual Education 
Class - and inserted his finger right into my slit. I couldn't belief that 
my own grandfather's finger was now deep within my vagina. 

"Oh, that's nice," grandfather remarked. "There's nothing in this world I 
like better than a tight, furry vagina. And you've got one of the tightest 
and furriest I've come into contact with in years." 

Grandfather pushed down with his left hand until he had pulled the cup of my 
bra down past my left breast. As soon as the flesh, pinkish mound popped out 
of the cup he began to kiss my breast all over. He lapped his tongue back 
and forth across my breast until he had covered my breast with glistening 
saliva. Then he kissed my slightly elongated nipple several times, wrapped 
his lips around my nipple, and began sucking profusely. There was nothing 
for me to do but just stand there and watch my nipple move in and out of m 
grandfather's mouth. He looked up at me. 

"You have such beautiful, blue eyes, Cindy. And let me tell you that your 
tits are simply scrumptious." 

He licked his lips and then he moved his face forward until his lips were 
pressed against mine. Then my own grandfather gave me a great, big, wet, 
hot, sloppy kiss. He stuck his huge tongue into my mouth and licked all 
around my mouth. Then he drew my tongue into his mouth and sucked upon it as 
he had sucked upon my nipple. 

Suddenly grandfather pulled away, placed his hands on my shoulders and 
looked up me. His expression was that of a wildman's. I had never seen my 
grandfather look like this before. His face was covered with beads of sweat. 

"I must see your cunt," he told me. "I must see it now!" 

He reached down and ripped the band of my skirt open. Then he pulled down 
the zipper along the side of my skirt and began to tug the garment down over 
my hips. 

"No, grandfather," I pleaded, "don't. Please don't." 

But he seemed to be oblivious to my words now. He pulled the skirt over my 
hips and then slid it down along my thighs until my skirt fell to my ankles. 
Then he glanced down at the lowest part of my belly. Grandfather's eyes 
traveled along my flat tummy and then he just studied my pair of white, 
bikini panties. I could see that his eyes were transfixed upon the 
triangular mound within the crotch of my panties. He cupped his hand over 
that protruding mound and moved his palm up and down upon my clump of pubic 
hairs while his middle finger pressed into my slit. He stuck his finger 
right into my vagina and shoved the elastic material of my panties into my 
narrow hole. My panties were pulled down until a ridge of thick, brown hairs 
protruded above the elastic band. As soon as grandfather saw that ridge of 
hairs he licked his lips. 

"Oh, how beautiful," he commented. "How truly beautiful. I would burn all 
the works of Rembrandt and Michelangelo just to keep sights like this in our 
world." 

Grandfather placed his hands over my breasts and then lowered himself to his 
knees. He licked my exposed ridge of pubic hairs with the tip of his tongue 
while he dragged his hands down along my body. When he reached the band of 
my panties he began to slowly unroll my panties with his fingers. 

As more and more of my mat of brown hairs was exposed, grandfather licked 
his way down through my bush, pausing on occasion to nip at the entangled 
strands with his teeth. When he had rolled my panties all the way down to my 
thighs he sliced through my brown bush with the tip of his tongue until he 
mouth was right between my thighs. Then he shoved his powerful tongue right 
into my slit all the way until the lips of his mouth were pressing against 
the lips of my cunt. 

God help me, Doctor Lamb, but the pleasure was absolutely enormous. I placed 
my hands against the back of my grandfather's head and pulled his head 
forward until his face was buried in my bush. Grandfather licked his tongue 
all around the ridge of my cunt and then moved his tongue upwards until it 
brushed against my incredibly sensitive clitoris. 

"Oh, Grandfather!" I shrieked. "Oh, God, that's so good. Oh God!" 

And then I remember breathing fast and hard and moaning and groaning like 
some kind of animal while grandfather drew his long tongue in and out of my 
cunt. I completely let myself be taken over my the waves of pleasurable 
sensations that were sweeping through me. I had put control of my body into 
my grandfather's hands. 

Suddenly, grandfather stood up, placed his hands on my shoulders, and forced 
me down until my knees were bent halfway to the gridded walkway. He quickly 
undid his pants and pulled his pants and his underpants down past his knees. 

I glanced down and saw his mammoth penis grow and grow and keep stiffening 
until it must have stood out from his belly for almost a foot. The end of 
his cock pressed against the top of my bush, right into my tummy, and I 
could feel that the flesh was hot as a rock and hot as a piece of burning 
coal. It was also the glowing red color of a piece of burning coal. 

Grandfather lowered his body and maneuvered the broad head of his meaty cock 
between my trembling pussy lips. Then he gritted his teeth and thrust his 
hips upwards and forwards. I screamed as his huge penis wrenched through the 
tender tissues within my cunt and tore the walls of my womb apart in a way 
to which they were not accustomed. And he just kept stuffing his great, big 
shaft deeper and deeper into my cunt until it felt like piece of steel was 
being hammered into my guts. 

And then there was a ferocious pain and I felt skin tear within me. I 
shrieked over and over and I began to move my shit up and down along 
grandfather's rod. I guess I thought that if I helped him smash through my 
hymen the pain would be over sooner. 

I was right. The last ripped fragments of my hymen seemed to melt away and 
become hot, flowing liquid. Grandfather's cock glided all the way into my 
cunt until he had stuffed my womb with his gigantic slab of meat. He stood 
up and pressed his chest against my breasts. Then he began to kiss my 
breasts all over and to fondle them. 

"Oh, Grandfather," I gasped. "Oh, what you're doing. Oh, please don't do it. 
Oh, please keep on doing it. Oh, God. Oh, God! Oh, sweet God!" 

Flames of intense erotic pleasure tore through my cunt and my guts seemed to 
be melted down into cream which oozed along the walls of my womb. The flames 
just kept growing and growing until my body was completely enveloped in a 
bubble of ecstasy. I wrapped my arms around my grandfather and rubbed my 
swollen pussy lips against his crashing, thumping loins. His huge testicles 
swung between my thighs and slammed into the cheeks of my ass. 

"Yes, Grandfather!" I shouted. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Ah! Ah! Ah! OH!... " My 
expressions of supreme joy and utter release just faded away into a guttural 
cry. 

Grandfather ground the base of his cock against the ridge of my cunt and 
scraped his pubic bush against the mound of matted brown hairs which covered 
my lower belly and my vulva. He rested his palms upon my breasts and thrust 
his hips back and forth, drawing his cock in and out of my cunt. He moved 
away from me and I watched his plunge his long, meaty tool up between my 
thighs until his tube disappeared within my tight hole. Then he drew the 
flesh rod out of my cunt and stuffed his cock back into my again. I peered 
very intently into my grandfather's eyes and he peered into my eyes in the 
same way. We both gritted our teeth and concentrated on piercing the sexual 
satisfaction which we were presently supplying to each other. 

And then I saw the look of frenzied rapture spread across grandfather's 
face. I felt his cock expand within my cunt like an inflated balloon and 
then I felt his penis twitch spasmodically. He grunted and heaved his breath 
out of his nose and I knew that he was experiencing an orgasm. A massive 
orgasm. 

Grandfather's body became very still while he shot his fantastically 
enormous load into my cunt in a series of explosive bursts. Only the head of 
his cock remained within my gripping hole now and I could see his piston 
vibrate every time the fluid went coursing through. And I could feel the 
stickiness and the heat of his semen when the huge drops splashed all around 
within my vagina. It was the most wonderful sensation I had ever known. 

When grandfather reached the climax of his orgasm he began to slide his cock 
in and out of my hole again until he had emptied his entire load into my 
slimy box. At last, his release was complete and he sighed deeply. He was 
totally exhausted and he plucked his penis out from my hole, placed his back 
against the shelf of pornographic books, and slid all the way down until he 
ass was positioned upon the gridded walkway. Then he closed his eyes and 
tried to catch his breath. 

I looked down at my grandfather's face and I could tell that he had just 
experienced total sexual satisfaction. Gunk was still dripping out of the 
oval hole at the tip of his cock and his softening pipe was coated with a 
film of glistening fluid which I knew was s mixture of his gism and my own 
vaginal juices. 

And then I realized the full extent of what had just taken place. I had just 
had sexual intercourse with my own grandfather. I was suddenly filled up 
with sickening horror in the same way that I had been if I stepped out of my 
dress and panties and immediately headed down the ladder. I vaguely remember 
tearing off the rest of my clothes but I do know that when I made it outside 
I was stark naked. Then I just started running. 

I ran across the snow covered ground, through the falling snow, down the 
mountain, through the forest. I ran and I ran and I ran until I sort of 
recall reaching a big highway. Then I just kept running and running and 
running along that highway. And running and running and running... And now, 
Doctor, here I am with you. 

CONCLUSION 

Cindy W. is another victim of a lecherous, parent. In this case, of course, 
not a father, but a grandfather. However, it is the same set of 
circumstances that I have seen so many times. The girl feels guilty even 
though she had not actually done anything to feel guilty about. During the 
act of intercourse, she became unaware Her intense guilt feelings have 
induced the girl to enter a state of shock. In order to pull her out of that 
state, I must make her understand that she actually has nothing to feel 
guilty about. 

But this will not be easy. I think that I may very well utilize hypnosis to 
guide her mind back through time to that incident with her grandfather in 
the library. In this way, I hope to enable her to observe that incident as 
an outsider. Perhaps then she will be able to clearly see that she was truly 
a victim in the hands of her perverted grandfather. She must understand this 
in order to be cured. 

But, once again, I fear that there may be permanent psychological scars 
which will inhibit her sex life for many years. 

We shall see. We shall see. 

 CASE HISTORY FIVE 

SUBJECT: LISA S. Age: 19 

INTERVIEW ONE 

Lisa S. was not really all that upset when she entered my office. It was 
obvious from the expression on her face that she was troubled, but that it 
was trouble which she was able to an die. 

It was not that her situation was any less dramatic than those of the other 
girls who come to see me, but that Lisa had a much stronger and more 
insulated personality than most of the other girls. 

She sat right down in the chair in front of my desk and after introducing 
herself she immediately began relating her particular incestuous episode to 
me. She spoke in a calm and steady voice and never once became hysterical or 
even loud. Lisa stood about five foot, seven and she had long, dark blond 
hair and large, round, soft chestnut eyes. Her eyes -were the most beautiful 
pair of brown eyes which I have ever seen in my life. 

She possessed a full, voluptuous, and manifestly sexual figure and she moved 
her body and, in general, acted as though she was quite aware of this. She 
seemed very sexually oriented and, frankly, a bit of a tease. But despite 
this, she also seemed like a basically friendly and healthily extroverted 
teenager. 

If it had not been for the incident which she was about to tell me, I doubt 
if she would have been anything other than a normal, fairly well adjusted, 
and reasonably content young woman. 

Here is what she told me. 

* * * 

I guess, Doctor Lamb, that I have always been the kind of girl who sort of 
the troubled kind of guys. You know, the ones who always are outside of the 
mainstream and who have problems adjusting to society and to the world. 

I gotta' tell you the truth and say that I like to be a sort of mother 
figure to these guys. I like to help them along and try to save them. But it 
always winds up the same because I don't know what to make them into. And 
when I realize that I leave them and that's that. 

I don't know why I'm like that, Doctor. I don't know why I seek out guys 
like that. You're the psychiatrist, maybe you'll be able to figure it out. 

Wait a minute, Doctor, I haven't told you the whole truth. I said that I 
leave guys when I find out I don't know what to make them into. There's more 
to it than that. I leave them when I find out that they're simply nothing. 
You see, at first I always think they're special because they're troubled 
and because they're outsiders. But what I really wind up realizing is that 
these guys are simply fuck-ups. Losers, is what they are. Zeros. Assholes. 

But for some reason I never get that at first, no matter how many of these 
zeroes I hang out with. I guess every time I meet another one I make myself 
forget. Or else I believe that this guy is different. I don't know exactly 
what happens. But that's how it always is. 

For example, the first guy I went out with in junior high was one of those 
school bullies who is always picking on other guys and getting into fights. 
And he was always failing all his classes and playing hooky a lot. When I 
went out with him I tried to keep him out of fights and make him come into 
school more. But it wound up that he talked me into playing hooky a lot and 
doing all kinds of juvenile delinquent things. 

Finally when I realized that he was nothing but a big dude without a brain I 
left him. He threatened to kick the shit out of me at first and I had to 
have my brother and some of his friends protect me for a while. But that guy 
stopped bothering me after a while and I hardly ever saw him. So that was 
that. 

Then there were a few more of these guys until I met Tony. Tony was an old 
hippy and he was one of the last guys around with long hair. I thought he 
was special because he used to tell me all about the sixties and he used to 
put down just about everybody famous in the world and talk about how 
everything was bullshit. I met him 'cause he always used to hang around this 
bar in Queens that I went to in high-school where they let you in even if 
you weren't eighteen. The name of the place was 'The Pit'. 

Tony was the first guy who fucked me and even with sex I found out that he 
was a zero because he didn't really know much about what to do in bed even 
though he was already twenty-seven. But I didn't find that out until much 
later. 

I also took Acid for the first time with Tony and he used to get me hooked 
up in all kinds of dope deals. I even got arrested once with him just 
outside the pit and it was a big hassle for my father to get me out of the 
jam. 

My father, by the way, was already freaking out long before that point. He 
kept screaming about how all the guys I was going out with were just 
worthless bums and that I was going to wind up being like them if I kept 
going out with those guys. But I never listened to him. 

But when I went off to college in Upstate New York and started meeting other 
guys I quickly realized that Tony was nothing more than a burn-out. When I 
told him that I didn't want to see him anymore he kept coming up to visit me 
and once he tried to break into my room after I locked him outside. But 
finally he stopped coming up to try to see me and that was the end of Tony. 

Then there were two more guys I went out with college who were also a lot 
like the other guys I had been going out with all my life. There isn't 
really anything special I could tell you about them. 

And then I met Burton. Burton was this big, muscular, black guy who I first 
met in an encounter group at college that was also a psychology class. Even 
though he was such a big guy it turned out from what he said in the 
encounter group that he was really all gentle and sensitive inside. 

I was really attracted to him right away. And to tell you the truth, Doctor, 
I also got into him because of the sexual thing in looking at his shiny 
black skin and thinking about his big, black muscles. I even wondered if his 
cock was really huge the way black guys cocks are supposed to be. 

I kept thinking about what my father would say if I came back home with this 
great, big black guy. Both my parents would shit in their pants if I did 
that, I figured. But I couldn't help from feeling more and more attracted to 
Burton every day. In fact, even before I had started to go out with him I 
fell in love with him. 

I just loved hearing him talking in the encounter group about all the 
problems he had dealing with other people and adjusting to the world. He's 
always seem so upset that he was just one the point of violence. But he 
never actually would get violent. 

The way we started going out was really simple. We passed by each other in 
the union one day and we just both stopped and looked at each other. Then we 
started talking really soft as though we didn't want anyone else to hear out 
conversation. Like we were all along together, the two of us, in the world. 
He asked me if I wanted to go to the jazz concert they were having at the 
school that Friday and I said yes. We just kept looking at each other for a 
few seconds and we almost kissed right there in the student union in front 
of everybody. 

So we went to the jazz concert together and when he was walking me back to 
my room he started telling me about how he was tired of black people being 
deprived second-class citizens and that he would use violence if he had to 
rather than be persecuted by white people any longer. I didn't really think 
he's ever become violent but I loved listening to him and I started to fall 
more and more in love with him. 

My roommate had gone home that weekend and as soon as we got into my dorm 
room we started making out really heavy. His hands were all over my tits and 
my cunt and he started to pull off my clothes. I tried to stop him but he 
didn't pay any attention to me. I guess in a way you could say that he raped 
me. 

But I loved it anyway. It turned out that his cock was a huge tube of black 
meat and I just loved to have him pound it into me and to suck on until he 
came all over my face. 

Watching that white come of his spurt out of that black tube really turned 
me on. I couldn't get enough of it. 

And I just kept thinking, what would my parents say if they knew? I had to 
find out. I kept nagging Burton to come home with me and finally he agreed 
to come back for the beginning of Christmas vacation. 

My parents didn't react exactly as I thought they would. My father didn't 
freak out but he just got this look on his face that said, I knew something 
like this would happen. I just knew that it would lead up to this. But he 
remained cool and was perfectly polite as they it was no big deal, even 
though I knew he was burning inside. My mother also stayed polite but unlike 
my father she couldn't hide the fact from Burton that she was shocked and 
disgusted. When we were doing the dishes together she didn't even speak to 
me but I knew what she was thinking. She was thinking, Lisa, you bitch, 
you're doing this on purpose to me. You're getting even with me for some 
reason. 

That's what she was thinking, but she never said it. But I knew. I knew. 

But Burton stayed at my parents place for three days and we had a really 
nice time together in New York. He was from Buffalo originally and he had 
never seen the city before. We explored New York together and sucked at all 
different kinds of places. On rooftops, in garages, in taxi cabs, and even 
once in the living room when my parents were asleep. I knew that they knew 
that Burton and I were fucking each other. 

Just before Burton left he told me that he knew that my parents couldn't 
stand him but that he had expected that and' he had a good time anyway. He 
told me that despite the fact that I was white he loved me and he would be 
happy to see me back at school. Then I kissed him right out in public at the 
bus station and he got on the bus. I waved goodbye to him as the bus pulled 
out and he waved back at me through the long window. 

That night my parents and I didn't speak much at dinner. But I knew that 
they were smoldering with resentment and with fear. They were shitting 
bricks at the thought that I might actually marry Burton. They would rather 
have seen me marry a burn-out like Tony than a Negro. I knew that perfectly 
well. 

I watched television for a while with them and then I took a bath and went 
into my bedroom. I was just about to turn off the lights and go to sleep 
when I heard somebody knocking at the door. I was wearing a sheer, yellow 
nightgown with nothing on underneath and I pulled the cover up to my neck. 
"Yes?" I called out. 

"Lisa, it's me," my father responded. He opened the door and came into the 
room. 

He shut the door right away and stood there smoking his pipe and just 
studying me. But he didn't say a word for more than a minute. It really was 
weird and it made me feel weird. I didn't know what to say to him either. 

Then he walked over to the window, opened it, and dumped out his pipe. He 
closed the window, walked over the my bed, and placed the pipe into the 
pocket of his blue bathrobe. 

"Did you and Burton have a good time together?" He asked in a very plain 
voice. 

"Yeah, we did. If everything works out I'd like Burton to come down here 
during the summer. Then he can come with us to our house in Easthampton." 

Father's face remained blank and he nodded his head up and down. "Uh-huh... 
was his only response. 

Then he was silent for a few more seconds while he looked at me and seemed 
to be pondering. 

"Lisa," father finally said, "I've got something important to say to you." 

"What is it, dad?" 

"Lisa, my daughter, I've been up with a hell of a lot from you, as you well 
know. I've watched you bring home boys who were nothing much more than 
retards or criminals and sometimes both. I pulled connections with guys who 
were my friends to get you out of jail that time you were busted. And I've 
had to listen to the neighbors talk about how my daughter was running around 
with trash or, worse, just look at me smugly at parties. And I had to put up 
with knowing that everything you did was directed against your mother and I 
as some sort of punishment. That was the most painful part. That all of it 
was done to hurt us." 

I didn't answer. 

"But, Lisa, despite everything you have done up to now, none of it was as 
bad, as painful to your mother and I, as bringing into our home a fucking 
Nigger." 

Doctor, I was absolutely shocked. My father had always been a racist but he 
was the kind of phony liberal that would never utter a word like 'nigger'. 
And I had never even heard him curse before in my entire life. I could tell 
that the shock I was experiencing was displayed on my face. 

Father grinned an laughed slightly. 

"You didn't think," he said, "that I'd actually say something like that, did 
you? Well, I did say it and I mean it. Lisa, I want to tell you that you are 
a sick pig to stoop so low just to hurt your mother and I. And it is the 
last straw. I am tired of having a little nothing of an ungrateful and 
stinking bitch like you dare to punish myself and my wife. Who the fuck you 
think you are! Well, I shall tell you. Lisa, you are nothing. You are a 
worthless piece of shit and a tramp and a slut. You're not fit to be my 
daughter. Do you understand that, Lisa?" 

I still didn't answer him. I was now frozen with shock. It didn't seem 
possible that my own father was actually saying these words to me. I even 
shook my head as though this was all a dream and I could make myself wake 
up. But no matter how much I shook my head I still saw the same things 
around me. 

"Lisa," father went on, "I want to tell you that from now on you are no 
longer my daughter. I don't know you, do you understand that? All I know is 
that some filthy slut who fucks niggers is lying in a bed in my apartment. I 
don't know her name or where she came from." 

Father came closer and glared down at me. His mouth opened up until all of 
his teeth showed and his face was stretched out into a grin. 

"Tell me something, Lisa," he said, "did you suck that nigger's dick?" 

I just looked at him. And then I decided that I must speak. But even after I 
made that decision it took me a few moments before I could manage to speak. 

"You called me 'sick' before," I replied at last, "but you are a sick 
racist. These are pretty low-level words to be coming from an educated adult 
like you." 

"Oh, knock off the crap, Lisa. You know that you hate niggers as much as I 
do. You only brought this nigger home to torment me just as you went out 
with all those other jerks to torment me. You only were attracted to his 
nigger because you knew that he would be the most objectionable person to 
your parents. That's all that you're looking for in a boy." 

"Father, you're a narrow-minded bigot," I told him. "But I shouldn't even 
call you father anymore. You said I'm not your daughter anymore? Well, 
that's fine because I don't want you to be my father. Now please leave my 
room so that I can get dressed." 

"How are you going to do that, Lisa?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"I mean that only my daughter's clothes are in this room. But you're not my 
daughter. So none of these clothes belong to you. Not even whatever you're 
wearing now belongs to you." 

"Look," I said, "this is really too ri... " 

"Answer my question, pig! Did you suck that nigger's cock?" 

"I would never answer a question like that." 

"You don't have to, Lisa. I already know the answer. You've sucked his cock 
many times. You loved to suck it. You begged him to let you suck his cock. 
Now, isn't that true?" 

I sat up and gritted my teeth. I didn't even realize that the blanket had 
slid down from my chest. Father was now able to see my naked breasts through 
the translucent, yellow material of my nightgown. 

"Yes," I hissed at him. "that's exactly how it was. I got down on my hands 
and knees and pleaded with him to let me take his black penis into my mouth. 
Your own daughter begged to let a 'nigger' feed her his cock. How do you 
like that, daddy dear? How does it feel to have slaved away all your life 
just to find out that your daughter was a nigger's sex slave?" 

Father just stood there glowering at me and breathing faster and faster. I 
just couldn't stop myself from tormenting him some more. 

"That 'nigger', as you put it, father, shot his come right into my mouth and 
I drank it all in. He came all over my face and all over my hair. And when 
he was ready to go to sleep I would grab his cock and suck him up until he 
became hard and shot his load into my face again. I could never get enough 
of his scum. Now, what do you think of that, father?" 

For several seconds his body was completely frozen. And then he pulled back 
his right hand and smacked me hard in the side of my face. My head was 
knocked down against the pillow and I was paralyzed with numbing pain. 

But then I felt my father's hands all over my breasts. He was pressing down 
hard on my breasts through my nightgown and pinching my nipples with great 
strength. As the pin from my face faded it was replaced by the pain coming 
from my breasts. 

"Stop that," I murmured. "What do you think you're doing?" 

"I'm finally getting some pleasure out of you, Lisa, that's what I'm doing." 

He moved his hands down along my body and as his fingers passed over my 
pubic bush he slowed down and plucked at the hairs with his fingertips. Then 
he brought his hands down along my legs and moved his hands up along my 
thighs beneath my nightgown. When he reached my cunt he poked his thumbs 
against my pussy lips and then pried my labia apart and shoved his thumbs 
into my vagina. His fingers scraped along the insides of my cunt. 

"Father, stop!" I loudly pleaded. "You must have lost your mind." 

But now he didn't even respond to me. His look, his breathing, his actions 
were all animalistic. 

Father pulled his thumbs out of my cunt and then reached up and pushed his 
thumbs between my lips. He pushed between my teeth and forced his thumbs 
right into my mouth. I gagged and then I bit down on his thumbs. 

But father jabbed his sharp fingernails into the roof of my mouth and I 
opened my mouth wide. He pulled out his thumbs and then slammed the base of 
his palm against my forehead. 

"If you can suck a nigger's cock," he told me, "you can suck your father's 
thumbs. But I'm not going to be content with that. I want you to suck my 
cock just like you sucked that nigger's cock. And I want you to beg the same 
way you begged to suck his cock. I want to come in your mouth and all over 
your face just as that nigger did." 

And then he climbed up on the bed and straddled my chest. He was on his 
knees and it was simple for him to pull open his bathrobe and expose his 
fully erect cock. I was surprised, but also somewhat delighted, to see that 
father's penis was every bit as long and thick as Burton's. And father even 
had more pubic hair. Burton's balls had been almost bald whereas father's 
testicles - which were even larger than Burton's - were covered with long, 
curved strands. His bush completely covered his belly and there were thick 
clumps on the insides of his thighs as well. 

"Eat this, you pig!" Father ordered, as he grabbed the base of his cock and 
waved it in front of my face. "You want to punish, huh? Well, two can play 
that game. Now, eat slut! Eat your father's cock!" 

And with that, father heaved his hips forward until the meaty head of his 
penis passed right into my opened mouth. He kept pushing his penis into my 
mouth until his cock head actually traveled right into my throat. I thought 
I was going to throw up but suddenly father grabbed my chin and the top of 
my chin and closed my mouth. I realized that if I threw up I might choke to 
death so I managed to control myself. 

Father placed his hands against the side of my face and began to pull my 
head back and forth and to draw his cock in and out of my mouth. Can you 
imagine, Doctor? He was fucking the mouth of his own daughter! And he was 
doing it like an animal. Slamming his cock right down into my throat and 
covering my face with his big nest of pubic hairs until I couldn't breath 
either through my mouth or through my nose. It was horrible, Doctor, just 
horrible! 

Father sort of half whined and half grunted over and over again and he 
inserted his cock all the way into my face and held my mouth closed. His 
hard rod beat back and forth against the insides of my mouth and then he 
blasted fiery streams of gooey come down my windpipe. As he pulled his penis 
out of my mouth he continued to spurt his load onto my tongue and my upper 
palate. 

Finally, father removed his prick from my mouth but he held onto the base of 
his cock and aimed his piss slit so that he ejaculated all over my forehead. 
He began to masturbate and he sprayed come all over my nose and the front of 
my face. The last drops of his load dribbled out of his piss slit and 
dropped down onto my lips. 

He put his hands on my face and smeared his sticky semen all over my face. 
Then he cleaned his hands off with my long, dark blond hair and used my hair 
to remove all traces of his scum from his penis. When he was finished, 
father stood up and looked down at my face. "At last," he commented, "you've 
been of some use to me." 

He turned and walked to the door. He opened the door but just as he was 
about to leave he stopped, turned to me again and said, "Now, get out of my 
house, Lisa, I don't ever want to see you again." 

And then he walked out of my room without closing the door. I got up, 
cleaned off my face in my bathroom, got dressed, and threw some clothes into 
a suitcase. I left the apartment and headed back for the town where I go to 
college. I stayed with some friends for a while because the dorms were still 
closed for Christmas but then a friend of mine suggested that I come down 
here to see you. I've been staying at the apartment of another friend. 

Well, Doctor, what do you think? 

* * * 

I told Lisa that it was too early for me to do anything but simply record 
the facts. I told her that she should come visit me again next week, before 
she went back to college, and she agreed. 

INTERVIEW TWO 

The next time I saw Lisa she rushed into my office, sat down in the chair, 
and immediately started talking. She told me something which I had never 
heard before during my entire career as a psychiatrist. 

* * * 

Doctor, I know this is going to sound insane, but after I left this office I 
called up my father and begged him to let me suck his, cock again. I just 
had to! I don't know why. I really don't. I just know that it seemed that I 
couldn't go on until I had tasted his salty meat and his come once again. 

Well, doctor, father just laughed and then he hung up. I walked around and 
hoped that this weird desire would just fade away but instead it got 
stronger and stronger. I just couldn't take it anymore! 

So I went to his office, rushed past the secretary, and walked right in. 
Father was talking to somebody on the telephone. 

"Let me call you back," he said into the mouthpiece. 

Then he said goodbye and hung up. 

"Close the door, Lisa," father instructed me. 

I closed the door and stood in front of his desk. 

"What the fuck do you want?" He asked me. 

His language greatly excited me. I was now hotter for the taste of his cock 
and his come more than ever. 

"I want to suck you off again," I answered. "Right now. Please!" Father 
rubbed his chin and pondered. 

"Alright," he replied at last. "But on one condition." 

"What's that?" 

"For now on, you go out only with boys whom I have either selected for you, 
or whom I approve of. If I tell you to get rid of a certain boy you must do 
it. And you must go out with any body whom I select for you." 

"Yes, yes. I agree." 

"And you must get rid of that nigger. I don't ever want you to ever speak 
with him again." 

"That's alright, father. You were right. I really don't like niggers anyway. 
I was only using him to hurt you and mother. Just like you said." 

And then, Doctor Lamb, father took off his pants and his underpants and 
propped his feet up on his desk. I climbed up on the desk, lowered my head, 
and have him an absolutely fantastic blow-job. 

And I've been sucking him off steadily ever since over the Christmas 
vacation so that the office and at home when mom's not around. 

Tell me, Doctor Lamb, is that sick? Tell me the truth. 

CONCLUSION 

That was a difficult question to respond to. 

I didn't want to use the word 'sick' since that is not only a vague term but 
will not comfort the subject or help to heal her in any way. But it was 
necessary, of course, for me to make it perfectly clear to Lisa that her 
behaviour was unnatural and extremely unhealthy and must be stopped at once. 

It seems to me that what we have here is a case of over-compensation. Lisa's 
need to hurt her parents had probably been the result of her childhood need 
to be properly chastised and disciplined by them. She wants to both punish 
them for their negligence and force them to now give her the required 
beatings. 

Committing fellatio on her father is a substitute for the childhood 
punishment she never received and craved so desperately. But now that she's 
getting it in another form she cannot get enough. 

What is more, she must keep up her perverse behaviour in order to keep her 
from having to face the horror of what transpired between her and her 
father. Once the intense desire to fellatiate him vanishes, the only thing 
left will be the memory of what happened. She does not want to have to deal 
with that memory so she just keeps recreating the experience. 

But one I have convinced her to stop her incestuous activity I can begin 
therapy in which she will confront the memory and start to deal with the 
reality. However, to be frank, I'm not sure that I can get her to stop. So 
far, my efforts have not been successful. 

 CASE HISTORY SIX 

SUBJECT: Elizabeth T. AGE: Twenty-Three 

INTERVIEW ONE 

The young woman who walked into my office on a bright, Spring afternoon was 
exceptionally beautiful. She was tall, statuesque, and built magnificently. 
She had long, slightly curled brown hair and wickedly beautiful green-blue 
eyes. Her nose was just large enough to lend her face character and a 
powerful, erotic quality. 

She was also older than most of the female patients who come to me. Most of 
my patients, in fact, are girls whereas Elizabeth T. was a young woman. She 
had the air of a career woman without that jaded look which so many New York 
career woman seem to possess. 

Because this woman was unlike the vast bulk of my patients, I suspected that 
her story would be unlike most of the stories which I hear. And I was right. 
What she was to relate to me was not the usual form of incest. 

* * * 

Doctor Lamb, up until last week there were nothing even remotely abnormal, 
much less incestuous, between my father and I. We had always liked each 
other as well as loved each other, and we did many things together even 
after I went away to college. And between myself, my father, and my mother 
there was a balanced and joyful relationship. 

As for my sex life, well, I suppose that it was basically satisfying, 
though, I admit, not all that wonderful. I have had a number of men who were 
very good lovers but there had never been anybody that really turned me on 
all the way and brought me to the highest levels of sexual ecstasy. And I 
have never been in love with a man other than my father. 

I suppose that's why, after graduating from college, I put so much of myself 
into my career. I started out as a copywriter at an advertising agency and I 
consistently worked fifty and even sixty hour weeks and turned out -- I say 
this without conceit - excellent material. In only two years I have risen to 
become an assistant account executive. Most people have to work years before 
they reach that position. 

But, I will confess that due to my failure to establish a totally satisfying 
relationship with a man my life has not been complete. After work I roam the 
streets examining the men, searching for the one who will take control of my 
life and guide me into a world of physical and emotional fulfillment. But I 
haven't found that man yet. 

Doctor Lamb, frankly I am aware of the fact that I am very beautiful and I 
doubt that the men I pass on the street would ever imagine how truly lonely 
I am. This may seem strange, but lately I have been so lonely that I have 
decided to be celibate. That's not a paradox. You see, I've found that as I 
establish more and more relationships with men who do not really end my 
loneliness, my loneliness just becomes more and more intense. So I have 
given up men until the perfect man comes along. Even though, in all honesty, 
I doubt that would ever happen. 

All of what I've told you, Doctor, has a lot to do with what happened 
between my father and I. You see, it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't felt 
this urgent need to have sex with a man whom I really love. And since my 
father is the only man whom I have ever loved... 

Well, I guess you get my point. 

But, of course, my having sex with my father would not have occurred at all 
ha not contacted a malignant form of cancer. The cancer was in the form of a 
tumor in his brain and almost as soon as the doctors discovered it they told 
my father that he had only a few months to live. You see, the tumor was 
growing so fast that it was literally eating up my father's brain. Very 
tragic, I can assure you, since my father had quite a brain in his head. 

And let me mention, Doctor, that my mother had died only a few weeks before 
this from a stroke. I had been visiting my father and eating out with him 
several times since then and I happened to be staying at his apartment for 
the weekend when he found out the news about his cancer. When he told me he 
was rather dispassionate about it but I started crying. I told my father 
that I would move in and take care of him but he adamantly refused. 

I did visit him a great deal over the next several weeks and I gradually 
watched him become more and more feeble minded and more physically emaciated 
as well. His memory began to fade away and then his reason and then finally 
his muscular control. His appetite became all but non-existent. 

Finally, I was obliged to move in with him but soon after that the doctors 
decided that he must be sent to the hospital for intensive treatment. They 
weren't very optimistic about the treatment but it had to be done. He had to 
be given every chance. So I agreed that he should enter the hospital. 

I hoped and even prayed that he would get better but, looking back, I 
realized that even if the doctors had stopped the growth of the tumor there 
was no way that they could replace the destroyed portions of his brain. But 
I didn't think of that at the time. 

Soon after this, I was not able to visit my father for a few days because I 
was working fifteen hours a day on a campaign for a new brand of mouthwash. 
I would sleep in the office and then get up the next day and start work 
again. We have a shower right in our offices. 

When I was finally done with the campaign I immediately rushed over to the 
hospital. But I was not prepared for the sight which was before me when I 
walked into the private room. My father had shrunk up into a pathetic figure 
who was nothing more than a crumpled bag of skin which held some bones. They 
had shaved his head to drill through his skull and all together he looked 
like some kind of mutant being. He certainly did not look like a human 
being. 

But the worst part, I think, was his eyes. His eyes were dead. When they 
were turned towards me there was no glint of recognition in those eyes. I 
wasn't even certain that he was seeing. And if he was seeing, I was positive 
that he was not very aware of w he was seeing. Before I had even spoken with 
him I knew that he had become a vegetable and that he didn't have more than 
a few days left to live. As I walked up to the bed tears were trickling out 
of my eyes and running down along my cheeks. 

"Father?... " I uttered. 

He didn't answer. He didn't even look at me. I placed my hand on his 
forehead and stroked his burning skin. 

"Father, can you hear me?" I asked. 

Finally he did look at me. But he still didn't seem to recognize me. He 
formed his lips as if to speak but it was several seconds before he actually 
did make any sounds. 

"You... " He murmured. "You... are." 

"I'm Elizabeth," I sobbed. "Your daughter. Don't you recognize me?" 

"Lizzy?" He doubtfully replied. 

"Yes!" I answered. He had used the nickname by which he had often called me 
since childhood. "Yes, it's me, Lizzy." 

Father shook his head just a little. 

"Who?" He asked. As if he had forgotten already. "Who are you?" 

"It's me. It's Lizzy." 

"Who?" He repeated. "Marie? Marie?" 

"Marie, Doctor, was my mother's name." 

I decided to try once more. 

"Daddy, it's your daughter, Elizabeth. It's Lizzy, Daddy." 

His face lit up with as much of a smile as he could manage. 

"Marie," he said. "Marie, you came. I knew. I knew. Good. Good. I want... " 
He just became silent for about half a minute and I thought that he was gone 
from the world. But then he started talking again. 

"Marie, I die. I die, Marie. I want... I want sex, Marie. But, can't. Just 
can't. Marie, 'fore I die... one last. One last. Can't do. Blow me, Marie. 
One last. One last. Blow me. I die." 

I understood, of course. He thought that I was his wife, my mother, and he 
wanted me to perform fellatio on him so that he could have one last orgasm 
before he died. He was obviously aware enough to be sexually aroused but 
there was no way that he had the strength to engage in sexual intercourse. 
So the only alternative was oral sex. 

There was nothing immoral or even indecent about this, Doctor, as far as I 
was concerned. My father thought that I was my mother. One would not 
consider it abnormal for a man to expect a woman whom he has been married to 
for more than forty years to perform fellatio on him in a hospital where he 
is dying when there is no other way for him to attain sexual satisfaction. 
In fact, such an act would be the correct thing for such a woman to do. But 
since my mother was not around to carry out this last wifely duty I realized 
that it was up to me to fulfill my father's dying wish. I was so filled with 
loving pity for him that I didn't even think about the fact that I would 
have my mouth on my own father's penis. It wasn't even a sexual thing for 
me, you must understand. I simply wanted to make my father happy before he 
died. There's nothing perverse in that. In fact, it was a very selfless 
sentiment on my part. 

I stood up, went to the door, and closed it. Then I propped a chair beneath 
the doorknob. That wouldn't really keep anyone from getting in but it would 
hold them back long enough for me to rearrange myself. I went back to the 
bed and looked down at my poor, disintegrating father. He looked like he was 
no more than an upper torso sticking out of the top edge of the blanket. 
That's how thin he was. 

I pulled the blanket all the way past his feet and then began to untie the 
cord which held together the bottom of his hospital pajamas. Then I pulled 
the top of his pajama pants apart. It was immediately obvious that that his 
corporal dilapidation had not effected his penis in any way. In fact, in 
relation to the rest of his shrunken body his instrument seemed inhumanly 
monstrous. And the enormous amount of thick pubic hairs which were clumped 
upon his belly, his testicles, and the bottom of his thick shaft were in 
stark contrast to father's bald head. 

As soon as I grabbed the base of father's cock he became so excited that his 
body shuddered and his prick sprang up into a full hard-on. I was absolutely 
amazed. I squeezed his shaft and discovered that it felt like stone. Hot 
blood was rapidly coursing through the protruding blue veins beneath the 
tightly stretched skin of his erect pole. 

I cupped my hands over his gigantic, hairy balls and then I lowered my head, 
parted my lips, and placed my mouth over his swollen, throbbing cock head. 
Father immediately began groaning passionately and he placed his right hand 
on top of my head and pushed my head down. 

As my lips slid along the length of father's penis I tightened my lips so 
that his cock was sealed completely within my mouth. I pushed my face 
downwards until my lips were about halfway along his rod and he completely 
filled my mouth. 

Then I sucked in my breath, concentrated, and pressed my mouth even further 
downwards until the tip of that tube of flesh went into my throat. I could 
feel that enormous head of his cock pressing against the skin of my throat. 

Father's cock was now completely inserted within my face. My nose was 
pressing against his hairy belly and his pubic strands were stabbing into 
the skin of my face and up into my nostrils. My chin was pressed into the 
space between father's balls. 

I pulled in my cheeks until my mouth was line a suction cup and then I drew 
my lips along father's penis until only his cock head remained within my 
mouth. I slid my lip down along his penis and then I began sucking away very 
rapidly and very forcefully. I intended to drain every single drop of my 
father's gism out of his loins. 

It was incredible how stimulated my father became considering his condition. 
He wildly heaved his body up and down and he whined and whimpered just like 
a hungry baby. I just pulled the chair away from the door, left the hospital 
room and went home. 

* * * 

I told Elizabeth T. that under the unusual circumstances I didn't think that 
what she had done had been all that perverse. I even agreed with her that it 
was an act of charity and should not actually be considered as incest. 

However, Elizabeth informed me that there was much more to the story than 
this and that the really perverse part had not yet been revealed. I informed 
her that I had other patients waiting outside and that she would have to 
return next week. 

The tall, statuesque, brown haired beauty agreed and I bid her good day. 

INTERVIEW TWO 

When Elizabeth T. next came to my office she was wearing a pair of very 
tight blue jeans and a tight, pink pullover which distinctly outlined the 
shape and the bulkiness of her firm, protruding breasts. Many young ladies 
wear jeans these days but I have rarely seen such a gorgeous and statuesque 
women in them. I must admit that the sight of those long, long sleek legs 
and that taut ass stuffed into that tight, blue material greatly aroused me 
sexually. It took me several moments to re-assert my professional attitude 
over my masculine inclinations. 

But I have been in this business for a while and at last I managed it. 

As for the intensely sexy Elizabeth T., she sat down in the chair and 
immediately started discussing that which mostly concerned her at this 
moment. 

* * * 

Well, Doctor, last time I told you about how my father was lying in a 
hospital bed dying and how I gave him a blow job so that he would die happy. 
And I told you that he thought that I was my mother, Marie. 

Well, the day after I left the hospital I got a call from a nurse over there 
and she said that I should come right over. I figured that my father had 
already died or was just about to die. But before I could ask exactly what 
the nurse hung up. 

So I left work and immediately went over to the hospital. When I reached the 
door of my father's room there was a young doctor standing outside shaking 
his head from side to side. 

"What is it, doctor?" I asked him. "Is my father dead? You can just tell me. 
I've been ready for it." 

But the doctor just kept shaking his head for a while and then he said to 
me, "it's incredible. Absolutely incredible. I tell you it's a miracle, 
that's what it is. An outright miracle." 

"What are you talking about? I asked. The doctor gestured towards the door. 
"Go see for yourself," he said. I opened the door and stepped into the room. 

"Hey, Lizzy," said my father in a loud and healthy voice. "How's it going, 
kid?" 

It was absolutely bizarre, Doctor Lamb. He didn't seem sick at all. 
Certainly he did not seem like a dying man. The color had returned to his 
face and he even seemed to have put on a little weight. 

"F-father," I replied. "What's going on? How?... " 

"Lizzy, it's religious, that's how. There's no other explanation, child. I 
have been saved by divine intervention. Come closer and I'll tell you all 
about it." 

I walked right up to the bed and father took my hand in his. His grip was 
quite strong. 

"Lizzy," father began, "as you know, up until yesterday I was a dying man. I 
wasn't even much of a man really, just a vegetable sitting inside what was 
left of a man's body. But then yesterday, I had a vision. I remember it all 
quite clearly. In the vision, Lizzy, your dear, departed mother came to me. 
And, well, that is what happened.' It might seem quite unbelievable to you, 
especially in light of all that has happened to you, but that was exactly 
what happened that night. 

And most of all, my dear Lizzy baby, I don't want to disgust you, Lizzy, but 
I must tell you what happened. Your mother, or the ghost of your mother, 
performed fellatio on me. And now here I am fit as a fiddle and rearing to 
get back out into the world. I know it must seem like an odd way for the 
lord to work, but then again, what the hell do we really know about the 
universe?" 

CONCLUSION 

Frankly, I was not very certain that I believed this story of Elizabeth's 
entirely. First of all, call me a cynic if you will but I do not believe in 
purely religious miracles. And under the circumstances which Elizabeth 
described the so-called 'miracle' seems even more dubious. 

I contacted the head of the hospital where Elizabeth's father is a patient. 
He happened to have gone to medical school with me and, what is more, is a 
very good friend. He told me that Elizabeth's father was indeed a patient at 
the hospital and that he did indeed have a cancerous tumor in his brain. But 
according to my friend the tumor was not malignant and very tiny and the 
brain surgeons didn't expect to have any trouble removing it. And the 
patient had never been on the verge of dying. 

I was not surprised to hear this since it does not seem possible that her 
father's brain could be almost entirely 'eaten away', as Elizabeth claimed, 
and then he could attain full consciousness again. 

So what is the real explanation? 

I can only hypothesize that Elizabeth had long possessed incestuous feelings 
towards her father, and vice-versa, and that they finally fulfilled their 
mutual desires in that hospital room. Then, it order to hide the truth from 
herself, Elizabeth made up this tale about her fattier dying and about his 
'vision'. 

This explanation seems especially plausible since Elizabeth came to me for 
help. If she believed that there was no psychological problem involved then 
why go to a psychiatrist? It is possible that she unconsciously knows the 
truth and that she wants a psychiatrist to somehow reveal that truth to her 
conscious mind. 

But now I must prove my hypothesis. I plan on attempting this through 
hypnosis. If my hypothesis is correct than the hypnosis may very well bring 
out the truthful memory from Elizabeth's subconscious mind. That will be the 
primary step in bringing it to her full consciousness. 

From there on, we will have to depend on many private sessions, during which 
time the lovely young woman will have to realize her true feelings towards 
her father and her own sexuality. 

 CASE HISTORY SEVEN 

SUBJECT: Christy O. AGE: Seventeen 

INTERVIEW ONE 

Christy appeared to me to be a very fearful girl and I suspected that she 
had been this way for a long time. She meekly walked into my office and I 
gestured at the chair but she almost backed away from it. I was obliged to 
somewhat forcibly instruct her to sit down before she actually did. 

She was a very pretty girl with long, medium brown hair, dark blue eyes, and 
a slightly freckled face. She was dressed very simply in old, faded jeans, 
sneakers, and a blue Pull over which revealed a pair of firm and ample 
breasts. She was about five foot, six and slender. Despite her fearfulness 
she had a very healthful, outdoorsy appearance. 

Christy turned out to be one of those patients who had to be prodded into 
telling me her problem. We discussed some inconsequential matters and then 
she started telling me her story. But then she suddenly stopped and we went 
back to perfunctory conversation. It went on like this for about a half hour 
before Christy finally just started telling me her story. Obviously it was 
just a matter of making her feel comfortable so that she could get over her 
fearfulness. 

Once this had been accomplished she began to talk quite freely. 

* * * 

Doctor Lamb, I have always been the kind of girl who has never much cared 
for the life she is leading. Nothing in my life ever made me really happy 
and I wished that I was living somebody else's life. It didn't seem to me 
that I could ever be happy living my own life. 

What I wanted more than anything else was some kind of magical guide to come 
along and change my life. I wanted to be led into a world of fantastic 
events. I wanted my guide to lead me through the world to strange and exotic 
places. Really, what I wanted was to become somebody else entirely and I 
thought that when this magical being came along he would enable me to become 
this other person. And traveling through the world with this guide would be 
the means of changing me. Since I said 'he' you know that I thought of my 
guide as a man. Sure, there was a kind of sexual thing involved here. The 
guide would be the man I would love as well as the man who would change my 
life. But I didn't really thing of him in a sexual way. I was more concerned 
about traveling than fulfilling sexual desires. 

When I would think about this magical guide I would think about my older 
brother a lot. David had left home when he was seventeen and since then he 
had traveled all around the world. I knew this because occasionally we would 
receive letters from him from all different parts of the world. 

Sometimes we would get a card from India and then six months later we would 
get a card from Argentina. Six months later a card from Alaska and then 
maybe a year after that a card from France. 

It seemed to be that my brother must be in a state of constant movement. How 
he managed it I could not exactly imagine. All I did know was that he 
absolutely fascinated me. 

David is eight years older than me so when he left home I was only nine 
years old. I could hardly remember what he looked like. We had some old 
pictures of him but I knew that he must have changed a lot since he was 
seventeen. 

My greatest wish, after having the magical guide appear, was that David 
would actually come home to visit. It seemed to me that this would be the 
next best thing. 

And then one day I came home from school and there was a note from my mother 
telling me that she would be working late so I should clean the house by 
myself. I wasn't too happy about it but I've always been the dutiful 
daughter type. So I wrapped a blue handkerchief around my hair to keep it in 
place and I went to work. 

I was right in the middle of mopping the floor when there was a knocking at 
the door. I wondered who would be knocking instead of ringing. But I went to 
the door and opened it. 

There was a tall, slender, dark haired man in his early or mid twenties 
wearing a pair of very dark sunglasses. He was dressed casually, but well, 
in a pair tailored pants, light brown shoes, and a brown shirt without 
buttons which was opened at the front to reveal a tanned hairy chest. His 
face and arms were very tanned too. 

There was a traveling case on the concrete pathway next to the man. It was 
like a duffle bag only it was made out of tan material and it hand a handle 
along the side and it was very expensive looking. 

The man didn't say anything. He just stood there looking at me but I 
couldn't see his eyes through the dark lenses. 

"Yes?" I asked. 

The man smiled wide and his white, even teeth were exposed. Even without 
being able to see his eyes it was a very pleasant smile. And a sexy one too. 
He took off his sunglasses to reveal a very beautiful pair of green-brown 
eyes and a pair of thick, brown eyebrows. 

As soon as I saw those eyes and those eyebrows I knew who it was. 

"David?" I asked, even though I knew. 

"Yeah. I'm your brother, Christy." 

I threw my arms around his and placed the side of my face against my chest. 
Then I looked into his eyes. David put his arms around me but he didn't 
really hug me. But it still felt good to have his long, strong arms around 
me. 

"David, it's great to see you!" I excitedly told him. 

He patted my back. 

"It's good to see you too, Christy. It really is. To me, you're an entirely 
different person than the sister I remember. You're beautiful, Christy, I'll 
tell you that right now." I blushed. 

"Oh, bullshit, David. But thanks anyway. I tell you something though, and 
this is no bullshit, you are an absolutely gorgeous man. You have such a 
nice face." 

I stroked the side of his clean shaven face. 

"And such smooth skin!" I added. "I'll tell you something, David. I'd like 
to kiss you on the lips." 

"Well, go ahead," he told me. 

"You know what, I think I will." 

I pecked him on the lips. But then David pulled me back towards him and 
pressed his lips hard against mine. We kissed passionately for several 
seconds. He slid his lips back and forth across mine and I could taste the 
hot wetness coming out of his mouth. It was absolutely delicious, doctor. I 
wanted him to just go on kissing me forever and I just completely 
surrendered myself to him. 

My body was now pressed against David's body and my breasts were squashed 
against his athletic chest. My vagina was rubbing against his thigh and I 
could feel my insides getting hotter and hotter. And it was definitely an 
erotic heat. I couldn't help myself from grinding my pussy lips against my 
brother's thighs. 

Even as I was doing it I knew that it was wrong. I actually wanted to tuck 
my own brother! But I figured that he would be the one to take command of 
the situation in one way or another. 

David pulled his lips from mine and smiled at me. He had the most wonderful 
smile I had ever seen. It made everything seem alright. 

"Wow!" I said. "I don't know what happened." 

"You were just greeting your brother who you haven't seen in eight years, 
that's all. There's nothing wrong with showing your sentiment." 

He looked into the house. 

"Is anybody else home?" David asked. 

"Um, no. Mom will come back from work about five and dad'll be back about 
six." 

I peered over David's shoulder at a tan colored, foreign sportscar. It 
looked really expensive, just like his clothes. There was a thin, silver 
aerial which was shaped in a curve and attached to the hood and the trunk. 
"Is that your car over there?" I asked. 

"Yep." 

"Holy Christ. How much does that cost?" 

"Since you asked, thirty-eight thousand." 

I glanced at the license plate. It had my brother's initials on it DAO. Then 
I looked him up and down again. 

"Man," I remarked, "this sure isn't the way I thought you'd look when you 
finally came back. Not at all?" 

David laughed slightly. "Why, what did ya' think I'd look like?" 

"I kinda figured you'd be a scruffy looking traveler who'd hitchhike home 
with a dirty backpack. I figured you'd have really long hair and a scraggly 
beard. Instead your all rich looking and healthy." 

I patted his flat stomach and. felt the muscles on his upper arms. "There's 
not a single bit of fat on you," I remarked. "You're built like a football 
player only not so bulky like an animal like they are. I think you've got 
the most fantastic body, Dave. I really do." 

"Christy, the way you thought I'd look when I came home. That's the way I 
looked when I left home. I wouldn't want to travel through the whole world 
and then come back the same way. The world changed. I changed." 

"You've been all over the whole world, haven't you!" 

"Yeah." 

"You've got to tell me all about it." 

"Okay." 

David took my hand and led us both into the house. I closed the door and 
then we went into the living room and sat down. 

For the next hour David told me all about his travels through Europe and 
Asia and down to Australia and then over to South America. It turned out 
that most of his traveling had been in small sailboats. It all sounded so 
thrilling that I was, like, hypnotized, just by listening to him If he had 
asked me to just pack up some clothes and go traveling with him right there 
and then I would have done it. 

"But, tell me something, David," I said to him. "All this time you were 
traveling how were you able to afford all of it. How could you afford to buy 
all those boats? Did you ever have to work? And where's you get all the 
money to buy that car. I mean, everything about you makes you seem really 
rich." 

David paused for a few seconds. He seemed to be pondering something. 

"Christy," he replied, "I'm going to tell you something right now. It'll 
make everything clear. But you must promise that what I tell you will be our 
own, little secret." 

"I promise, Dave." 

And then I just sat there and got ready to listen. 

"Christy," David began, "I am a drug dealer. A big time drug dealer. I bring 
in tons and tons of marijuana and cocaine from Mexico, Asia, and South 
America. I transport it in sailboats, that's why I'm always sailing around 
the world. And I make millions of dollars from it." 

My mouth dropped open. 

"Wow," I softly expressed. 

"I started out by bringing Hashish back from Afghanistan inside the hollow 
tube of my pack frame. I kept building up more and more connections until I 
met this guy who had an idea to bring all the dope back to a ship outside 
the territorial limit, repack it, and then bring it into the country in 
really fast speedboats. I hit on the idea of bringing it out of the 
countries where its grown and loading it into shallow draft sailboats that 
can beach in isolated places and don't require a lot of fuel to cover a long 
range. You see, a motor boat shallow enough to be beached couldn't carry 
that much fuel. And a large freighter traveling around to all of these 
places would attract too much attention. So me and this guy I told you about 
started a partnership and it's just been growing ever since." 

"Wow", I repeated. "That's fantastic. That's like something from a story." 

"But now, Christy, I want to take a shower." 

"Oh sure," I replied. My brother went into the bathroom and while he was 
showering my mother came home. When he came out she got all emotional and 
put her arms around him and cried. She asked him a lot of questions about 
what he was doing in life and he made up a whole lot of really good lies. 

When my father came home he also got really emotional and my brother 
repeated the same lies for him. Then we all ate the first dinner out whole 
family had eaten together in eight years. It was really nice. 

But, I could tell that my brother wasn't completely enjoying his dinner. He 
had just led too adventurous a life to be able to get along with two 
suburban, middle-class people like my mother and father. He was bored my 
their conversation, their neurotic, little arguing, and their fussy ways. He 
had no patience or tolerance for that kind of shit. 

But he was very pleasant throughout dinner and when we all went into the 
other room to watch television. I could tell that mom and dad were enjoying 
his company very much. 

After the late news, David said that he was very tired and that he was going 
to bed. We all said goodnight to him and he went out of the room. When the 
late movie was over the rest of us went to sleep. 

While I was sleeping a hand suddenly shook me awake. I opened my eyes and 
looked into my brother's eyes. I saw that he was all dressed. 

"What's going on?" I asked. 

"I'm leaving, Christy." 

"But, you said that you were going to stay for two weeks." 

"I just can't handle it here. I'm sorry. There's nothing wrong with mom and 
dad but they're just too different from me. And I don't feel comfortable in 
this house. I really like you, though, I want you to know that Not just 
because you're my sister. I really think that there's a lot of life in you 
and you give out feelings and take them in a very nice way. I love you." 

David stroked my hair and then he moved his lowered his head and kissed me 
on the lips. I kissed him back and stroked him. But then he pulled away and 
stood up. 

"I've got to go, Christy," he told me. "I just called up somebody I know and 
I found out that if I can make it to Barranquilla, Columbia in two weeks 
hell have a huge load of Columbian for me. But even if I take off tonight I 
might now make it." 

"What do you mean, 'take off tonight'?" 

"I've got my boat at a marina in Connecticut. At Stamford. I'll leave my car 
there and just pull out." 

"Alone?" 

"This boat's really not that big. A twenty-three foot sloop. I've handled 
bigger boats alone before. Well, Christy, goodbye. I want to see you again. 
I'm your brother, don't forget that." 

He started to walk backwards towards the door. 

"Wait!" I cried out in a hushed tone. "Take me with you, David." 

I leaped out of bed, rushed up to him, and placed my hands on his shoulders. 
I was wearing nothing but a blue nightgown. 

David looked down at my body and then he looked into my eyes. 

"I don't think it'll work out," he replied. 

"Why not?" 

"Well, for one thing, do you know anything about sailing?" 

I couldn't lie to him. I shook my head. 

"And for another," he went on, "there's a considerable amount of risk 
involved. I can't expose my sister to danger." 

"I don't mind. I really don't. In fact, I like the danger." 

"You say that, but you don't really know. And besides, there's another 
factor." 

"What's that?" 

"It doesn't matter. It just won't work out. You've got to go to school on 
Monday. You can't just run off at seventeen." 

"You did," I reminded him. 

"That's true. But it's not the same. I don't like to be sexist but it is 
different because I was a boy. And I was even a different type of person 
than you, besides being a male. I could handle myself in the world, being 
egotistical, Christy. That's just the way it is. You're a sweet and gentle 
person. I like that. I love you for that. But those aren't the qualities an 
individual should have to take off from home at seventeen. You should go on 
to college and either start a career or get married. I know that might sound 
like a fucked-up thing the way I see it. I'm sorry, Christy." 

He pulled away and walked backwards towards the door again. Then he turned 
around and walked into the hallway. 

Right away I gathered up some clothes and ran after him. I followed him out 
of the house and over to the car. I walked up to the passenger side car and 
found out that it was unlocked. I opened it and got into the car. 

David got behind the wheel and shut his door. I shut my door. Then we sat 
there in the front door looking at each other. "I'm not going to throw you 
out," he said. "But I am going to give you one last chance to change you're 
mind." 

"I want to go," I told him. "That's all I want." 

"Alright" David started up the car, threw the transmission into gear, and 
pulled out. 

INTERVIEW TWO 

Where was I, Doctor, the last time I was here? Oh, yes. I had jumped into my 
brother's expensive sports car and we took off. 

Well, by the time we got up to the marina we were both feeling really close 
to each other. Like two thieves who are right in the middle of stealing 
something. We had stopped off at an all night grocery store and picked up 
some food and as soon as we parked the car we carried the stuff down to the 
boat. 

That boat was really something, Doctor. She was really sleek and painted 
orange and blue. My brother showed me where to stow all the food and then we 
started to get underway. Pulling out of the marina at night was the most 
exciting thing which had ever happened to me. My brother started up the 
engine and turned on the running lights and I helped him cast off the lines. 
Then I joined him in the cockpit. He really looked impressive the way he was 
turning that big, silver wheel. 

The 'Crystalline' -- that way the name of the boat -- cruised out of the 
marina and through the dark waters of the harbor until we reached the open 
waters of the Long Island Sound. Then I helped him to raise the sails and I 
helped him with the lines and whatever else had to be done whenever he had 
to work the sails. I guess I was probably more in his way than anything else 
but he didn't seem to mind. 

And we just sailed on and on. I didn't know how to handle the boat by 
myself, and David was in a hurry, so just kept awake as long as he could. We 
sailed past land in the nighttime and were out on the open sea again when 
dawn came. David just continue! to sail 'Crystalline south along the coast 
until it became dark again. He kept drinking black coffee and taking hits of 
speed so that he wouldn't fall asleep. I myself had already been asleep from 
just after dawn to the middle of the afternoon. 

But at about Eight O'clock, David' pulled into a small, but well protected 
cove and dropped anchor. He said that he would catch a few hours deep here. 
I was already sleepy again - I guess from the movement of the sea - and I 
went down below with him to the forward cabin where the V-berths were. Those 
were the only berths on board. 

When we got into the forward cabin David took Off all of his clothes except 
his underpants and got under the cover. He said goodnight to me and then he 
seemed to go right to sleep. I took off everything except my bra and my 
panties and got into the other berth. I fell asleep right away. 

But then I felt a hand shaking me. Once more, I opened my eyes and looked 
into my brother's beautiful, green-brown eyes. It was just turning dawn and 
I could see through the opened hatch that the sky was caught between the 
color black and a dark blue. 

David stroked my hair and then he to my neck. He pulled the cover down past 
my belly button and then he slid his hand down along my neck and my chest 
and began to massage the top of my breasts. He dipped his fingers into the 
crevice between my breasts and then began probing with his fingertips 
beneath the cup of my bra. 

"This was the third problem I told you about back at the house," David told 
me. "I just happen to be the kind of guy who gets very horny. And when I'm 
alone with a beautiful girl I can't resist." 

He inserted his fingertips beneath the spongy material of my brassiere cup 
and moved his fingers over my left breast until his fingertips reached my 
nipple. He cupped his hand over my breast and squeezed my nipple between his 
fingers. Then he lowered his head and began to kiss my breast all over as he 
forced my breast out of the bra cup. When he had pulled my breast out of the 
cup he kissed my excited nipple several times and then he took my nipple 
between his lips and began to suck on it. 

"Oh, David," I gasped, as I stroked his hair. "It's alright. It's alright. 
I'm yours. It's alright." 

I sat up and unhooked the strap of my bra. I pulled my bra off of my 
shoulders and the cups dropped away from my breasts. David cupped his hand 
over my right breast and squeezed and rubbed my hanging mound of firm flesh 
while he kept on sucking my left nipple. I massaged his hairy chest and 
began to feed my breast into his mouth. He moved his lips over my breast 
until his mouth was stuffed with my tit flesh. He chewed on the firm skin of 
my breast almost as if he intended to eat it. 

And then David raised his head, looked into my eyes, and brought his lips' 
to mine. He kissed me on my lips and I kissed him back as hard as I could. 
When he probed with the tip of his tongue against my lips I opened my mouth 
and eagerly took in his tongue. I sucked on his tongue and drew his saliva 
into my mouth. David cupped his hands over both my breasts and squeezed and 
pinched them rather hard. 

My loins were burning and aching with desire for him and I squirmed my hips 
all about. David laughed slightly and he moved his hand down along my 
stomach and inserted his fingertips beneath the band of my panties. He wove 
his fingers through my fur and kept pushing his hand further and further 
down until he found the lips of my cunt. He worked his finger between my 
pussy lips and then shoved his finger into my hole until he met up with 
stiff resistance. I could feel his fingernail jabbing into my hymen. 

David looked up into my eyes. But he did not remove his finger from my cunt. 

"You're a virgin," he remarked. 

I was terrible afraid that he would be angry with me. I knew I had to do 
something to prevent his becoming angry. That would have ruined the 
wonderful journey we were taking together. 

So I got up on my knees, leaned down, and kissed my brother's muscular 
belly. Then I kissed my way down along his body until I reached the band of 
his underpants. I inserted my long fingernails beneath the band and pulled 
his underpants away from his tummy. When I looked down, I could see a huge 
clump of long, dark hairs and the thick rod which hung between his legs. My 
brother pushed his underpants down past the tip of his penis and his immense 
cock sprung up into the air. It was already hard and it was really long and 
thick. And his cock kept moving up and down and from side to side like one 
of those divining rods when it finds water. 

I bent my head and kissed his pubic hairs. I pushed my lips through his bush 
until my lips pressed against the skin of my brother's belly. Then I opened 
my mouth, stuck out my tongue and licked my way down through his hairy 
jungle until the tip of my tongue was pressing against the stony base of his 
cock. The taste of his meat was salty and deliciously masculine. 

David murmured with delight and placed his hands on top of my head. 

"Take my cock into your mouth," he told me. 

I pulled back my head until my face was just above the head of his penis. I 
licked the tip of his cock several times and then I placed my mouth over his 
throbbing cockhead and completely enclosed it within my mouth. I worked my 
gums and my tongue upon that mass of hardened flesh until I had covered it 
was my saliva. I wanted to literally eat the head of his cock, to chew up 
his meat and then swallow it. 

"Suck now," my brother further instructed. "Suck it up good and hard." 

I tightened my lips upon the taut skin of his penis and then moved my head 
down until about half of his rod was within my mouth. Then I began to 
rapidly move my lips up and down along his cock and to suck upon him as I 
would on a piece of candy. That enormous r cylinder of masculine meat felt 
so good stuffed into my face like that and a sensation of contentment swept 
through me. 

And then my brother suddenly pushed down on the back of my head. I did not 
resist as my strained mouth was guided along his shaft but when the head of 
his cock was stuffed into my throat I gagged and thought that I was about to 
throw up. My brother's sharp pubic hairs cut into my face and I could feel 
the wrinkled skin of his balls upon my chin. 

David laughed and then he pulled his cock out between my lips until only his 
cock head remained in my mouth. 

"That's alright," he said. "That's too much for you for now." 

I kissed it tenderly. He placed his hands against my forehead and pushed me 
down on the bed. Then he reached down and started to remove my panties. I 
raised my ass up off of the berth and David slid my panties down my ankles. 
Then he slid down his underpants and kneeled before me with his huge cock 
sticking up straight and stiff from his belly. He studied my naked body and 
then he placed his hands on my ankles. 

David moved his hands up along the legs and then he teasingly danced his 
fingertips along the insides of my thighs until he reached my vulva. He 
walked his fingertips across the hairy, outer lips of my cunt and over to my 
tender and much narrow inner lips. He pried my inner cunt lips apart until 
the mouth of my pussy gaped open, ready for penetration. 

I raised up my hips and spread my legs wide until my right leg fell off of 
the berth. David shuffled forward on his knees and directed his cock so that 
the tip of his meaty rod pressed into the opening to my vagina. A tingling, 
erotic sensation swirled through my loins and then traveled out through my 
entire body. 

David placed his hands over my body and then lowered his body and- thrust 
his hips forward. His cock head wrenched my pussy lips further apart than 
they had ever been before and then he pounded his cock deeper and deeper 
into my narrow, unyielding vaginal cavity until he met stiff resistance of 
my hymen. 

I gritted my teeth and awaited the expectant pain. David pulled his cock out 
of my cunt almost entire and then drove his rock hard penis into my slit 
with a supreme burst of power. 

The tip of David's cock rammed through my hymen and a fiery pain raged 
through my loins. I screamed loudly but David kept sliding his vibrating 
penis in and out of my cunt as he groaned and growled like some kind of wild 
animal. My cunt became filled up with hot liquid and I could hear a squishy 
sound coming from between my thighs as David pumped his rod in and out of my 
cunt. 

It took a while for the pain to pass but when it finally did I immediately 
become aware of how wonderful it was to have the beautiful and wonderful 
man's cock scraping along the insides of my cunt; And his body felt so good 
on top of mine. I wrapped my arms around his strong back and before I knew 
it I was groaning and growling almost as loudly and as savagely as my 
brother David and I became locked together within a capsule of ecstasy and 
our bodies rocked back and forth not only in harmony with each other but in 
harmony with the movement of the water as well. It was incredibly magical 
and wonderful and my body just opened up and released all of the juices 
within my loins. As the juices poured out of me, erotic pleasure poured into 
me. . 

I heard my brother began to to' snort and wheeze and a moment later this 
awesome spasm of ecstasy surged through my body. I wasn't even able to speak 
or utter any kind of sound. It was like sharp flames of pure pleasure 
cutting right through my center. 

And then I felt the drops of my brother's come splattering all over the 
insides of my cunt. He just kept sliding his huge cock in and out of my cunt 
and pumping this amazing amount of hot, gunky gism into my slit. I looked up 
and watched him fuck me and I could see his glistening shaft tremble as the 
semen passed through it. It was strange to see my brother's thick rod 
entering into my hole and then passing out again but it was delightfully 
exciting. I exerted the muscles in my loins and gripped David's gliding 
penis with my vagina. As the last bit of my pussy juices were wrung out of 
my cunt I could them the syrup drain out along David's shaft and drip onto 
his hairy balls and onto the mattress of the berth. 

When my brother had spent himself an expression of relief came over his face 
and then he pulled his cock out of my cunt and leaned his back against the 
hull. He closed his eyes and breathed hard and fast for more than a minute. 
Then he turned his head and looked at me. 

I knew then that I was hopelessly in love with my own brother, but not in 
the usual way of brothers and sisters. I thought of him as my man. As my 
lover. And I wanted to fuck him again and again. And I wanted to taste that 
huge, meaty cock of his within my mouth. 

Well, Doctor, we cruised on down to Columbia and we just kept fucking and 
sucking the other ones made. During this, the woman that Jim called to, 
would sit at his feet, and lightly play with his balls, while he watched the 
love sessions. 

Well, after all the men had fucked, Jim would point to women to make love 
with each other. This is something I had never done before, even though I'd 
been in a few orgies. But, for Jim's sake, I would eat pussy. Jim especially 
enjoyed watching. He wouldn't let the other men watch, though. After they 
fucked, they got to leave with the women they had fucked. That woman would 
be his for the rest of the night, to do with what he "wanted. So, it was a 
real disappointment to have to fuck one of the men, because then, you'd miss 
the rest of Jim's celebration. 

Anyhow, Jim . would watch the women eating and playing with each other. 
Then, as soon as his cock got real big again, he would have one or two women 
of his choice fuck or suck or fondle him. It was a great honor, you can 
imagine, to be one of those women. We all worshipped Jim. 

Well, after about a year and a half of this, Jim announced that he was sick 
of the old routine, and he was going to institute better love meetings. We 
were all excited. We wondered what could be better than what we usually did. 
But, we all wanted to give Jim as much love as we could. 

Well, the next special love gathering, we were all standing around in our 
special seductive clothes, waiting to hear what Jim wanted us to do. He 
said, "I'm tired of those frilly night gowns and underwear. I've had new 
clothes made for you. These are more seductive." 

All of us women, for the men, of course, were in plain suits, were excited. 
Like all women, who are an inferior sex, but need their silliness, according 
to Jim, we loved to get new clothes. We stood giggling excitedly, until the 
helpers came in bringing our new stuff. 

Jim had gotten us all sorts of chain outfits. They were strange to put on. 
They squeezed our tits and our asses between their cold metal links. Some 
women had to wear chains between their legs. Some had chains going between 
their teeth. 

Then, there were some rubber things. Some women had to wear masks over their 
heads, like close-fitting hoods, with zippers or holes where the eyes, nose 
and mouth were. If there was a zipper, she had to keep it closed until Jim 
let her open it. Some of the masks didn't even have opening for the eyes. 

There were also rubber things to fit over nipples, and into the cunt and ass 
holes. Well, every woman got a different combination to 

*** NOTE: The text of the actual paperback ended right there. *** 

 CASE HISTORY EIGHT 

SUBJECT: Laurie AGE: Sixteen 

INTERVIEW ONE 

As soon as Laurie walked into my office it was visibly obvious that she was 
psychologically shattered and that she had been through some kind of 
harrowing experience. She was shaking uncontrollably and - she kept staring 
at the window. I had to get up and maneuver her into the chair in front of 
my desk. 

Laurie was an extremely sexy girl. She had long, brown hair and brown eyes 
and the kind of looks which immediately made one think of her in a sexual 
sense. Exactly why I cannot say. But I do know that it was hard to keep 
myself from thinking about the vast, furry, brown pubic bush which I 
imagined was between her thighs. 

Yes, even psychiatrists have such thoughts about their patients! We would be 
abnormal if we did not and therefore not fit to treat patients. But as long 
as I am able to push those thoughts out of my mind I continue to be a 
professional. 

But, in this case, it was not easy. And it did not help that Laurie also 
possessed a pair of large, hefty breasts which protruded beneath her tight, 
brown sweater. And when Laurie crossed her legs -- she was wearing a brown 
skirt - I glimpsed a pair of smooth and creamy taut thighs. That glimpse 
didn't help my situation either. 

However, after discussing various inconsequential matters with Laurie for a 
while I did manage to push all sexual thoughts in regards to the girl out of 
my mind. Perhaps she sensed that because at this point she began talking 
freely about her terrible, incestuous experience with her brother. 

* * * 

I am the kind of girl that guys look at and right away they think, hey, I'd 
like to fuck that girl. It's been that way with me since I was about 
fourteen. 

And it's especially that way with my breasts. Everytime I walk by a bunch of 
guys at school I can hear them whisper things like, 'hey, look at the tips 
on that broad'.. That really disgusts me. 

I really hate that, Doctor Lamb. I really hate being nothing more than a sex 
object. I don't want to be thought of as just a body to fuck. I want people 
to see me as who I am. I want guys to think of me as Laurie T., not as some 
really sexy girl with big tits. That's like being de-humanized, if you know 
what I mean. 

And I know that guys are always thinking of me in that way. No matter what 
they might say to me or how they act when they're around me I know that's 
what they're thinking. It gets to be a hassle because I'm afraid to ever be 
alone with a guy, or especially with a group of guys. I would like to go out 
and do things with guys like maybe go camping or boating but I'm afraid that 
once they get me alone they'll start thinking about fucking me and then 
pretty soon they'll start pulling me down to the ground or something and 
just rape me. 

That's why I never used to go anyplace with a bunch of guys unless my older 
brother, Tom, would go to. I figured that my brother would be able to talk 
the guys out of something like that or, if things really got heavy, he could 
protect me. He's really tall and broad shouldered and muscular and he could 
beat the shit out of three normal guys if he wanted to. But he wouldn't do 
anything like that just for the hell of it because he's really gentle and 
nice. 

At least, I thought he was until last week. What happened last week has 
completely changed my opinion about my brother. And that's just what I want 
to talk to you about, Doctor Lamb. 

Last week, my brother and a bunch of his friends came over to the house. It 
was Spring Vacation and they were all home from college. I knew most of the 
guys and they were all pretty good guys. I'd always wanted to hang around 
with them but I guess you already know why I didn't. Sometimes they used to 
ask me to go into the woods to this old, abandoned shack and get high, but I 
was afraid to. 

"You see, even though all these guys were the same age as my brother, he had 
been in a special acceleration program at school when he was little so he 
was two grades ahead of them. That meant that he had gone on to college when 
all of these guys were still in their sophomore year at high-school. And up 
until now my brother had never come home for Christmas or Spring vacations 
because he used to go to visit this girl who lived upstate somewhere. He 
told me on the phone once that he went to her parent's house instead of 
bringing her down here because both her parents were really old and he could 
go downstairs to her bedroom and fuck her all he wanted, and my parents 
would freak out if anything like that ever went on in their house. 

So for two years my brother had not been home so I could not hang around 
with these guys because he would not be there to protect me. But now my 
brother and his girlfriend had broken up so he was home for Christmas. I was 
really happy about it. I went into my brothers bedroom where him and all his 
friends were and they were really nice in how they talked to me because my 
brother was there. One of the guys asked me if I wanted to go out to that 
old hut in the woods to smoke some dope and right away I said yes. I got my 
coat and we all left the house and headed into the woods. We walked for 
about three miles and crossed a brook before we saw the cabin. Then we went 
over to it and went inside. 

It was pretty nice in there. The wooden floor was kinda busted up but the 
hut was nice and clean. We all sat down on the floor with our backs against 
the wall, right near each other, and one of the guys whipped out a joint. We 
passed around the joint and we all toked on it until it was finished. 

Somebody else whipped out a joint and we passed that one around and smoked 
it too. Then my brother whipped one out and we did that one up real quick. 
Then we all did up one more. 

The dope was really good and I got so high that I didn't know which sounds I 
was hearing were real. Everything all around me looked weird and I felt like 
I was just floating in the air. I had never been that high before in my 
life. I didn't feel like I was in control of myself anymore. 

But I felt okay because I knew that my brother was still there. I looked at 
him and smiled and she smiled back at me. 

Then I noticed that all of the guys were also looking at me and smiling. And 
they all kept looking back at my brother too. Something strange seemed to be 
going on but I figured that it was just some kind of paranoid effect from 
being so high. I tried to push it out of my mind. 

But they all just kept looking at me and then looking back at my brother. I 
wondered what the hell was going on. Tom stood up and came over and sat down 
next to me. The guys and they all laughed hysterically. I was the laughing 
stock of the office for an entire month. I decided after that to never tell 
anybody what went on at my shrink's, even if it was unusual. Especially, if 
it was unusual. 

Well, I returned to my shrink for my second appointment, and this time I 
knew that I was supposed to talk. I began to tell the shrink about my 
childhood, as that's what my friends had told me was what shrinks liked to 
hear. I guess you hear that a lot, Doctor, huh? Please, how can I talk to 
you when you're doubled over with laughter! 

Anyhow, I told him about my childhood. I told him that I was toilet trained 
at a very early age. He finally said something. He said, "How do you feel 
about your bowels?" 

I was a little taken aback, but finally I said, "Well, I guess I'm a little 
prudish about them, if that's the right word. I don't like people to know 
when I have digestive problems, and stuff like that. I never let guys that 
I'm sleeping with touch my ass hole." 

He said, "I see. You are extremely inhibited about your anal and urinal 
functions." 

I said, "Well, I wouldn't say extremely inhibited." 

He said, "Don't fight the analysis, Diane." Well, then he said to me, 
"Diane, I have learned a new type of therapy at the institute. 

You seemed to be fighting the older, non-directive method. So, maybe you 
would like to try something else, yes?" 

I thought it was a bit hokey that he was putting on a German accent all of a 
sudden, but I said, "Sure. Whatever you think would be best for me." 

He said, "Good. See, you've lost a lot of your aggressive reaction already." 

So, the shrink began his new program. First on his agenda was my anal 
problem. He said that I had resolved my oral difficulties at their proper 
age. You see, I'm not at all obsessed about eating, and I don't smoke, or 
talk too much, or anything, throw up a lot, you know. 

But, my shrink said that I did have a serious anal complex. He set out to 
resolve it through this new therapy of his. I was game. I had so much 
respect for his, and your, professional calling. 

You know, Doctor, I would let him do anything. It was all just therapy to 
me. So, anything could be excused. After all, if my senior editor went to a 
shrink to confess her deepest traumas, and her sexual desires for her father 
and her sister, for instance, shrinks were special people. They couldn't be 
judged by normal standards. 

Well, my shrink wouldn't have fit into any normal standards. This is how he 
proposed we "Tom, there's all these other guys around!" 

"That's alright, Laurie, you don't have to answer. I already know. You are a 
virgin. Everybody knows that you are." 

"Tom, that is really digesting. I never would have thought that you would 
speak such words to me." 

"Laurie, let me ask you something," my brother went on. "What do you think 
it is that makes you so special." 

My brother was rubbing my vulva harder and harder and pressing his palm 
against my labia minor. I'm sure you know what that is because you're a 
doctor. Then he stuck the tip of my finger right into the slit in the crotch 
of my pants. His finger was right over the opening to my vagina. "Tom, what 
are you talking about?" 

"You know what I'm talking about. What makes you so special that your body 
has to remain pure. You know that you just happen to have a sexy body. Why 
should you deprive guys of the use of your body? What are you, a saint or 
something?" 

"Tom, why are you saying these things?" 

"Because I sick to death of fucking bitches who know they've got beautiful 
bodies and just use them to torment guys. That's evil, Laurie, really evil. 
It's an injustice that must be corrected. And I'm going to start my 
correcting with you." 

Suddenly, Tom pulled the button at the top of my jeans out of the snap. Then 
he started to pull down my zipper. As he did he moved his finger down along 
the front of my panties and felt the hairs of my pubic mound. I guess I 
really was high because I did get a certain kind of sexual thrill from 
feeling him touch me there even though this whole thing was so perverted. 

"Tom, stop that!" I begged him. "Stop it right now!" 

But he didn't stop, Doctor Lamb. He pulled my zipper down all the way and 
then he started tugging my jeans over my hips. As he pulled on my jeans he 
also pulled down my panties until some of my pubic hairs were uncovered. Tom 
ran his fingers through those hairs and rolled the strands between his 
fingertips. 

"Oh, my God!" I shrieked. "I've got to get out of here!" 

I tried to get to my feet but Tom placed his big hand over my face and 
pushed me down to the floor. Then he suddenly grabbed my jeans and pulled 
them all the way down to my thighs. My panties came down until almost all of 
my pubic bush was uncovered. 

And then all of the guys in the hut jumped up and came over to me. Soon 
there were hands all over me. My sweater was pulled up over my head and just 
left there while somebody unhooked my bra strap. As my sweater was pulled 
off of me so was my brassiere and soon there were several pairs of hands all 
over my breasts, squeezing and pinching my breasts and pulling at my 
nipples. 

My brother had stood up and taken a hold of my pants legs. He removed my 
sneakers and then he pulled my pants off all the way. He reached for my 
panties and slid them down to my ankles. 

"Doctor, how could my own brother have been doing this to me. How? How! Tell 
me, Doctor! How! How! How!" 

Obviously Laurie was becoming hysterical and I decided that she should not 
go on with her story at this point. But she soon calmed down and I decided 
that it would not be necessary to give her a sedative. 

However, I did think that we should wait a few days before we continued. So 
I sent her home and told her to return in three days. 

INTERVIEW TWO 

Yes, Doctor, you were right, it wasn't a good idea for me to keep on telling 
you about what had happened in that hut. I couldn't control myself because 
it was like I was re-experiencing what had happened. 

But now I can talk about it as if I was just there observing what had 
happened. So I'm much calmer now. I'm looking at what happened like an 
outsider. 

Anyway, let me just go on. 

I told you that my brother and his buddies had undressed me. So there I was 
on the floor of that hut naked, helpless, and surrounded by all those guys. 
I was frightened, doctor, terribly frightened. 

I looked up at my brother's face. I couldn't believe that he would do me any 
harm. I felt certain that he would not be able to look me in the face while 
he committed a perverted act against me. 

But as my brother kept looking at me he started to unbuckle his belt. Then 
he unbuttoned his pants, pulled down his zipper, and pushed his pants down 
to his ankles. Then he slid his underpants down to his ankles too. I 
couldn't belief that I was looking at my brother's cock. But I was and it 
was already hard and all straight. I hadn't seen my brother's cock since we 
had been little kids and it had grown until a great, big thing. I don't 
believe that any guy could have a bigger penis. I never could get my fingers 
around that pole of his, that's how thick it was. And it was so long that it 
reminded me of the time I saw a donkey's penis at a farm. I swear, Doctor, 
that Tom's cock was well over a foot long. 

And the knob at the tip of his cock was even thicker than the rest of his 
penis! It was a great, big chunk of red flesh. And it kept bulging outwards 
like when you roast a marshmallow in a campfire. 

I felt for sure that my brother might tear my guts if he stuck a thing like 
that into my narrow slit. And even if I did not die, I knew that it would be 
real torture to have such a long and wide pole go into my vagina when I had 
never had sexual intercourse before in my life. I didn't even want to think 
what the pain would be like. 

"Oh, don't!" I screamed. "Please, no! Tom, you'll kill me! You'll kill me!" 

I tried to get up but the guys held me pinned to the floor by my arms and my 
legs. The spread my legs far apart and I felt so vulnerable with the 
entrance to my vagina opened all the way like that. Several of the guys 
leaned their heads over and looked right at my cunt. One of them even 
pinched my pussy lips and shook them from side to side. 

Tom got down on his knees and grabbed the base of his penis. He aimed the 
tip of his cock at my hairy hole and started moving towards me. 

"No," I murmured. "No, don't. Please, Tom. Think what you're doing. No, 
don't. No! No! No!" 

The guys raised up my legs and then they lifted the whole lower part of my 
body off of the floor. I felt like nothing more than an animal in a farm who 
is about to be fucked for breeding purposes. And there was nothing I could 
do. Nothing. Tom rammed the tremendous knob of his penis into the opening to 
my vagina and I could feel the heat of that hard flesh. He squirmed his hips 
from side to side and forced his thick instrument into my tight hole. I was 
already moaning from the pain but he just kept forcing his cock further and 
further into me without any consideration whatsoever. 

I think at this point I just resigned myself to what was happening. I 
couldn't stop myself from expressing painful feelings but I didn't bother to 
bed or try to get up. I just lay there and let my brother do what he was 
compelled to do. 

He drove his cock deeper and deeper and deeper into my hole until the tip of 
his penis was pressing against the thick seal within my womb. I geared 
myself for what I knew was coming. 

And I wanted what was coming. 


GENERAL CONCLUSION 

So, we see that the submission on women is an increasing phenomenon. Some 
women want to be dominated, some like to prostrate themselves, and give 
themselves totally to a man that they admire. Others are unwilling partners 
in their man's domination fames. 

I feel that consenting submission can often be a good way for a woman to 
find her identity in this increasingly confused world. Who are we to deny a 
woman her psychological well-being, even if that involves letting herself be 
totally dominated by her man. If a woman seeks her happiness by letting her 
man beat her skin raw, by letting him bind her with cutting chains, that's 
her prerogative. If she likes to eat her man's shit, if she lets him dribble 
his piss as well as his come all down her naked body, that's her choice. I 
can not say it's wrong if it makes her happy. 

However, if she does not consent to it, she has every right to fight back, 
to run away, and to take the man to court. Everyone must find their own way 
to happiness, but not by infringing on anyone else's happiness. After all, 
these men that want to dominate can easily find a woman who would gladly 
submit to them. 


THE END
