Case History 3: Janet And Her Wealthy Professional Father
Janet S. was almost eleven years old when she first came together with her father in an incestuous affair. An only child of an upper-middle class family, Janet's mother is extremely jealous of her child. Mrs. S. is a beautiful, sexually-centered, unfaithful woman; a former model for a swim suit manufacturer. Mr. S. is handsome, intelligent and held in high respect as a prominent architect, at the present time holding a high office in a national society of architectural engineers. His annual salary is double that of the median income of an average American family. His home, completely free of mortgage, rests in an upper-income suburb of a large Western city. The home is spacious and has all the necessary elements for gracious living and lavish entertaining, including swimming pool, guest house, servants' quarters and badminton court. But the home is absent of the banter of children, of the laughter of the home's child at play with friends. Janet S. never invited her friends to her house. She kept its location a secret from even her closest friends for she feared others might see the signs of incest that lurked in every corner. And she feared her father's jealousy the wrath he might invoke at the sight of others who shared his daughter's attentions. Janet feared her father's possible outbursts more than anything else.
She has described her very first incestuous affair vividly for her therapist. It occurred shortly before her eleventh birthday, "I knew it was going to happen a long time before it actually did happen," she said. "Does that mean that I wanted to get fucked by my father?"
When the therapist made no comment, Janet continued, saying, "Well, I'll answer that one myself. I think I really wanted to fuck my father. In fact, I know I did. You see, I used to think about it a lot and even when I was ten years old I was hot for it. I mean I really wanted it. And I trusted my father more than anyone I ever knew and it kind of seemed all right to me if I should have it with him. And another thing I could tell my father was interested in me. I mean really interested in me. He wanted to fuck me!"
Janet's first sexual experience, accomplished in incest with her father, followed a day that found her hyperactive and exhilarated in feelings. It was a day that had found school boy classmates paying an unusual amount of attention to Janet, much as if she had suddenly bloomed into the flower of womanly sexuality. And perhaps it was this particular day that thrust her more dynamically into sexual awareness, for her breasts seemed larger as they bounced beneath her sweater, her hips, tight and shapely, undulated as they never had before, and during the day she had known a kind of tremble at her thighs as if they anticipated weight and activity and some searing knowledge.
That day as Janet hurried home from school, she was a picture of vital, happy youth. That was a decidedly dramatic day for Janet. It was early summer and a beautiful, bright, sunny day. Already over five feet tall, she looked older and more mature. She had already started her menstrual cycle a few months earlier and felt herself to be a "woman."
"I was awfully pleased with myself that day," Janet has related. "I knew that I looked great almost beautiful. My hair seemed brighter than usual and I was very much aware of my tits all through the day. A couple of times when we lined up to change classes, two of the boys touched me. It wasn't accidental, either. They really meant it. It made me feel hot and kind of like fainting. But I didn't. And I liked them touching me. It seemed just like the greatest day I ever lived."
The day was momentous, if not "great" as Janet has related, for it brought the mark to her life that made her tread paths of gross sexual promiscuity.
As Janet came home that sunny, late June day, she was surprised to find her father at home. She was not surprised that her mother was absent from the home. Janet had been aware of her mother's extramarital affairs for years. She took them as an almost "normal" pattern for a family, her psychiatrist has claimed.
All day long Janet had been thinking about a swim in the family pool. Several reasons were therapeutically uncovered as the motivation of this wish: Janet had been "hot" during the day, she had known the sexual attention of boys, the pool would be cooling for her body, and water, a well-defined phallic symbol, excited her, i.e., she would be "enveloped" in it, would "slice" through it, would let it "move and sway" her young body. An aside motivation for a swim in the pool at a season that was still premature for this event was a new bathing suit Janet's mother had purchased for her child a few days earlier. It was daring; very low-cut at bra and V-shaped and dipping at the bottom.
Janet discovered her father lying on the bed in his room on the second floor right after she had bounded up the stairs to prepare for swimming.
"That you, Jan?" the father called out.
"Yes. What are you doing home?" she asked.
"Just resting. It's hot."
Janet has reported that she was stricken by the word that he uttered. Hot, was exactly what she had been all during the day. She has said that it made her feel "good" to know that her father had experienced the same symptom.
"I'm hot, too," she laughed. "And that's why I'm going for a swim."
"A swim?" His words were interested.
"Yep."
"It's pretty early in the season," he said. "I didn't even want to get the pool filled for another week or so, but your mother insisted."
Janet's mother was always "insisting," it seemed. When her father said this, Janet felt a pang of sympathy for her father. She was not quite clear as to what her mother's infidelity meant to her father for there were no arguments, no signs of resistance from the father that she had ever encountered, yet this day Janet felt sorry for him, felt that some injustice had been done him and that this was the reason he had left his office and now reclined on the bed.
Janet, with her sweater already banished from her body and her breasts cupped in a little girl's bra, walked to the entrance of her parents' bedroom. She smiled in at her father. He looked very tired. But he sparked alive and pushed up to a sitting position upon sight of his half-naked daughter.
"I guess this was the first time that I even thought a father could be interested in the way his daughter's body looked," Janet stated for her psychiatrist. "You know, as if he looked at his own daughter the same way he might look at a woman he didn't know. It never bothered me. I was always bouncing around the house half-dressed, like kids do, but until this day I never noticed that my father was interested in my body. Or maybe I looked different this day. But I could tell he was excited by me."
Indeed, he was. Janet's father, Robert S., in attempting to resolve the problem of his daughter and himself, has said, "Jan looked like a woman to me that day. She was always a little flirt, especially with me, but this day she looked exactly like a little harlot like a young woman who wanted me to take her sexually."
"Why don't you come for a swim, too?" Janet asked her father.
"Maybe I will," he replied. Janet recalled that his voice was dry and choked sounding.
"Good. Last one in is a monkey."
With that, Janet turned, scooted out of the room, dashed to her own, then, without closing the door, quickly undressed and donned her new swimsuit. She paused for a brief moment in front of her vanity mirror to view her body to find satisfaction for her light hair, blue eyes, curving body, and wide, pink, wanton-looking lips, too then dashed for the pool.
She had made her first plunge of the season and was treading water in the deep end of the pool when her father appeared. He wore trunks. He looked taller than usual, very lean, and more handsome than usual.
"Cold?" he asked his daughter.
"A little. But it's great."
"Great, eh?" he said with a little laugh, acknowledging the use of his daughter's favorite word.
"Come on in."
"I'll come in a minute," he said.
Janet felt a wave of heat at this exclamation from her father. The simple sentence, relating to his entrance into the pool, was loaded with hidden, sexual meaning, not intended, of course, but perhaps subconsciously forced into verbalization.
Janet has said she felt all of the hidden meanings of the word "come." Only a few weeks earlier, in discussion with girl friends, the word had been discovered as that particular word that related to "sexual climax," or a result of fucking. Janet had laughed when a girl friend had explained the "extra" meaning of the word. The psycho-therapeutically recreated conversation between the girls shows not only Janet's intrigue with sex and sexual meanings, but the general curiosity and misinformation of most prepubescent and early pubescent girls.
"Stop laughing, Jan," one of the girls had said. "That's what it means. Honest."
"You're crazy," another of the group claimed.
"Sure you are," Jan agreed.
"I am not," the girl who claimed knowledge of sex said. "When people fuck, they 'come' that means that they're all through."
"I heard that that means that they've made a baby," one of the girls explained.
"It does not," the first girl said. "They can fuck lots of times without making babies. But when they come, that's different. It doesn't have anything at all to do with making babies it means how they feel, that it feels, well, wonderful, I guess."
With this recent background, Janet, half-naked, splashing in the pool and awaiting her father who had just shown a reaction to her maturing body, could not help but react to the sexual connotations of her father's statement, "I'll come in a minute."
Robert S. lingered at the side of the pool watching his daughter tread water, kick, plunge beneath the surface, swim the pool's length, and finally climb up the ladder and walk to the edge of the diving board.
As she posed with her toes curled over the end of the board, she again became aware of her father's scrutiny of her body. His eyes looked hungry, she has said, and they roamed over all of her, from the curled ends of her long hair to her toes which kneaded and wiggled against the rough, matted material that covered the diving board. And once more, Janet felt a sweep of heat course throughout her body until it finally centered at her tits and thighs. She looked directly into her father's eyes, then dove into the pool.
When her father finally sliced through the water, Janet was beneath the water, breast stroking to the side of the pool. But as she started to break above the surface, she knew that he had joined her. His body crashed into hers.
"Caught you," he laughed as his arms wound around her waist.
Janet laughed, too. "Yeah, but you wouldn't have if I had known you were...." She paused, her tongue ready to blurt out the taboo word. "If I had known you were in the water," she said, finishing the interrupted sentence lamely.
Robert S.'s arms remained tightly around his daughter for a few moments, then relaxed and released her. Five minutes later, Janet herself initiated a game that brought her young body into violent contact with that of her father.
Janet suggested a game of water polo as she took a ball from the side of the pool. The game was a disguise for bodily contact. Robert readily consented to the play. Soon, with only single members of a team, water polo gave way to mere wrestling for the ball in a rough game of "keep-away."
Janet has reported that she became awesomely aware of her father's body, especially when their legs entangled and she was made to feel the effects of excitement her body had caused him. But she did not deny the contact: she did not rebuke the hands that cupped her small tits from time to time, the single, wandering hand that pinched at her ass cheeks, the jam of that same hand as it pressured beneath the water at her firmly closed thighs, or at the hard pressure of her father's cock that lunged at her from beneath his swim trunks. Janet rebuked it not at all. Indeed, once, inflamed in the body and mentally beset with curiosity, she plunged beneath the surface to get the ball her father held imprisoned with his thighs. Her attempts were half-hearted. She deliberately brought her hand into contact with the bulge of her father's swim trunks. She lingered there beneath the water as long as her lungs endured, jamming with her hand in pretense of getting the ball but knowing instead the first contact with an erected cock.
From that point on, the game became bolder, tenser, and more directed to all-out bodily contact with only minor interest exhibited for the game itself. Robert's hand now slipped beneath his daughter's bra-top. It fondled and pinched and caressed at flesh and youthful nipple; it encouraged bloat and growth and hardness. And Janet's fingers clung to the small of her father's back, crept inside the waistband of his trunks, touched at the topmost outline of male buttocks, then retreated, paused, and wandered beneath the water where they brazenly sought and found that bulge of material that covered that symbol of her father's sexual desire. The charade of game was over the pre-play of incest was acknowledged by both of the participants.
"It didn't seem so terrible to me," Janet has explained. "As a matter-of-fact, it seemed kind of right. I liked my father. I trusted him. And I felt sorry for him, too, because I kept thinking of how my mother almost never had anything to do with him, even didn't sleep with him most of the time. And I liked the way I felt when he touched me. I liked that a lot. And it made me want more of it, made me want it in a way where we didn't have to pretend that we were playing a game in order to touch and be touched."
Robert S. has explained his feelings during this action of love play with his daughter.
"I was doing all those things to Janet just the same as if she was a stranger a woman, I liked, or something yet, at the same time I kept telling myself that it wasn't really happening, that I couldn't be fondling her and cuddling close to her and all those things."
"What about the arousal of your body?" the psychiatrist asked Robert S.
"It was the same as it would be with a strange woman," Robert replied. "Maybe more probably more. I remember feeling a kind of manly strength with my daughter that I had never experienced with anyone else. And I'll tell you something, it was so strong that I think it blotted out the reality of the situation for me."
"Blotted out?" the doctor inquired.
"Yes. Kept me from realizing what I was working up to."
"What were you working up to, Mr. S.? " the psychiatrist asked.
"Why fucking with my own child," Robert answered most truthfully.
After an hour of play in the family pool, Janet and her father left it. They did not leave by the conventional standards of having quitted a recreation period. Instead, after their play had reached a fevered pitch for Janet, she felt a "kind of desperation," as she explained it. As if "I just couldn't have it end not after we had already gone so far."
"You're an old slowpoke," Janet shouted to her father as she clammered up the pool ladder. "Bet you can't catch me running even if you can swimming betcha I beat you into the house."
Janet hauled her dripping body from the pool, then dashed for the back entrance of the house. She looked back once. Her father had accepted her challenge. He was midway up the ladder, ready to give pursuit. Janet ran faster.
About this moment, Janet has recited that she thought she ran for two reasons: (I) To entice her father into a new game that would offer greater intimacies of their bodies, and, (2) To truly flee from her father and her own incestuous desires for him.
Janet's subconscious aims that had found conscious opportunity, overtook her as she reached the second floor landing of the stairs. She glanced over her shoulder and saw her father move into the foyer. Then Janet giggled, moved to scramble up the remaining stairs to the second floor, but instead stumbled and sprawled upon the landing.
Slips of the tongue are known to give away one's secret wishes. And so it is true with false movements. There is little doubt that Janet wanted to stumble upon the stairs, thus providing her father with the opportunity of overtaking her.
He did just that. Robert bounded up the stairs, then, as it was with Janet and while she continued to giggle wildly, he, too, stumbled and sprawled upon the landing, his body dominating that of his child.
They both laughed for a few minutes. The sound was unnatural and rather distant, yet it had a blend of happiness and togetherness that Janet has reported never before having known. There was a hysterical touch to the tone of their laughter, too, as if both of them had gone mad with the game they played as if both desired to grow even madder.
Janet moved from the position on her side she had first attained. Her father, his body heavy upon her, the moisture of their bodies mixing, was directly atop Janet. She could feel every part of his body and she was especially aware of the pressure from his bulging cock against her thighs. But when Janet moved to change her position, it was not to attain one of rejection. It was to bring them more dynamically into contact with each other. Janet rolled to her back. Robert raised his body just enough to let her reach that position, then pressed heavily atop her again.
"After that, things were a kind of blur to me," Janet has related. "The two of us just stayed that way maybe it was for a long time, I really don't know, but I do know that my father smiled at me and I smiled back at him and then there was the business of the hands again his and mine, touching and everything and then, just like it was magic or something, my bra was off and lying to the side and my father was bent over me and kissing my tits just as crazy-wild .as anything, kissing me all over them and kind of catching all of me in his mouth and pulling and stretching me, then making me flat again as he pressed real close against all of my body while he kept one tit in his mouth."
And what of Robert S. at this moment of his daughter's first experience with the kisses of a man?
"I must have really gone crazy or something," he has reported. "I didn't think of anything not what I was doing, not even that the girl beneath me was my own daughter all I could do was get as much of her as I possibly could as much of her flesh, as much of all of her as I could possibly get."
The landing of the stairway of his own home was not ideal for all that Robert S. wanted from his daughter, however. Almost ceremoniously, he pushed back from his child, raised to his knees, gently edged his hands beneath her body, then rose, lifting her in his arms. like a knight of bygone days capturing his lady fair, Robert S. carried his daughter up the stairs and into the master bedroom.
He lowered her very tenderly to the bed. He straightened. He looked down at his child. Then he stooped over and relieved her of the rest of her wet, clinging swimsuit.
Janet said of this moment, "I'm not sure, but I think I helped him undress me. I remember kind of boosting my hips up so that he could pull the suit off me. I remember that because the suit was very tight from being wet and he never could have gotten it off me if I didn't help at least a little so, you see, I think I did that for him I think I really did assist him in getting the suit off my body and making me completely naked."
The psychiatrist inquired of the circumstances involved with her father's undressing.
"Oh, I didn't help him do that," Janet replied. "I just lay there on the bed and watched as he started to push his swim trunks down then stooped and kind of went out of view. When he raised he was naked. When I looked at him and saw the size of his cock, I was a little frightened. I knew he was like that but I had no idea just how he would be. I guess I was pretty shocked."
Robert S.'s body stammered wildly as he bent close to his daughter. Janet recalled that there was a look of awe upon his face, much as if he had become stricken with the enormity of the act he was about to commit. His expression added to his daughter's fright, for she was sure that it meant that he was going to give up the fucking she anticipated. But it was not so. Janet's fear was soon abated. Robert leaned forward on the bed, braced one knee on its edge, then began once more to fondle his daughter's body. He touched her tits, ran his hands down her body, kneaded a bit at her belly, then lightly massaged at her thighs, causing her to raise with a start as she knew thrill, causing her, too, to make that parting that offered a welcome from her young body. Her legs moved slowly, presenting her welcoming cunt entrance, now seeping with love juices.
There was some difficulty about entrance, but Robert was gentle and patient and probed at her pussy lips until that moment when he could not delay another second. Then he plunged forward, jamming his cock into his daughter's slit, capturing his daughter's body with his own, making her his prisoner, joining them in a bond that was closer than even that bond of blood relationship.
Janet does not recall exactly her part in the lovemaking. But she does remember experiencing sensations of excitement and a "fullness within me like nothing I had ever dreamed of." She recalls something else, too. Near the end of their fucking, when her father's pace had increased to an optimum speed, Janet heard her own voice crying out obscenities, as she was carried away by the passion of the moment.
"It was a little girl's voice," she has explained. "Not like mine at all more like a stranger's. It seemed real far away and it was all kind of choked-up and tight as if it was trying not to cry or was holding back some terrible, bursting thing. I wondered who it was that was crying if she was crying for me and how she had gotten into the room. And the words that the voice said sort of shocked me, too. They were words I knew and had heard before, but words that I never spoke in front of my family."
"What did the voice say?" Janet was asked.
"Oh, just terrible things."
"Will you explain, please?"
"Well, I kept shouting kept saying 'fuck me, daddy, fuck the piss out of me, slam your damn cock into my cunt, daddy, fuck my cunt faster, jam the shit out of my ass-hole with your cock,' and things like that."
Janet did not experience an orgasm as a result of her first act of sexual intercourse. But upon the occasion of sexually coming together with her father the fourth time, she did know gratification.
"It was like the whole world was crashing down upon me, or as if I was being shot out of a volcano," she has said, describing the event.
Following the attainment of climax, Janet S. became addicted to the thrill of sexual intercourse. It became her greatest preoccupation. She pursued her father aggressively, sometimes even forced him into a sexual act when he was disinclined for that adventure. She did not seek other partners her father was enough. She gave him the fidelity that he had never known from his wife. And with him she began to experiment with sex and the means of greater thrill. Janet learned to participate in long periods of love play. She insisted that her father pay all of her body great attention, and she did the same for him, trading kisses and eventually bartering fellatio for cunnilingus. In these deviations they both continued to know a climax, but always they returned to sexual intercourse as the way to the most gratification.
Janet and her father continued as lovers for nearly two years. During this period, Janet became more introspective, did less well in school, sought out fewer friends as companions, and developed a feeling that her mother had learned of the incestuous affair. Mrs. S. never mentioned the matter. Instead, according to Janet, the mother acted as if she knew a secret and was pleased with that secret.
The period of father-daughter cohabitation brought changes to Mr. S., too. He became quieter, more depressed, stayed home from his office more often, showed signs of jealousy over attentions paid his daughter by other people, and generally seemed to age dramatically. He talked of taking a long trip by himself, of living in a tent in the woods for an entire summer, but he was unable to follow through in this respect.
It was three months after Janet's thirteenth birthday when she hurried home from school one day, hoping to find that her father had returned early from his office. During the day she had felt a great anxiety, a steaming need for love-making. It was worse than usual, she has explained. It was as if she must hurry and sexually engage with her father in order to bring reassurances to herself that were needed.
When she turned the corner of her street, Janet's heart began to thump heavily. She sighted her father's car in the driveway, knew that he was home, knew, too, that they would soon be naked and "fucking" together. She started to run toward the house, then slowed and fell into a fast walking pace to the front door.
It was quiet inside the house. Janet smiled. It was always quiet when her father was home early, awaiting the attendance of her young body. She knew that he was in the upstairs bedroom where he always awaited her presence.
Still smiling, Janet slowly moved up the stairs, feeling part of the game that had developed between her father and herself. She paused at the second floor landing. Then she walked down the carpeted hall. Then she paused again, just outside her father's room. And then she presented herself at the door and looked inside. And then she screamed.
Robert S. was slumped half off the bed. Blood stained the bed clothes and the carpeting. A shotgun was resting on the floor. And Janet's father was without a head: Above the jagged pieces of flesh that had been his neck there was only a mass of blood and seared, white tissue that looked like maggots wiggling in filth.
Janet screamed and screamed and screamed, then ran from the room.
It is odd that death should sometimes be an aphrodisiac, that it should mark the embarkation of a thirteen-year-old child's constant quest for sexual activity, a quest that followed incredible paths and that tortured many lives. But this is true of the case of Janet S. She became involved in all manner of sexual deviations from that time onward, enticing her many male relatives into episodes of lovemaking that jarred the very reasoning of many of them. She enticed her male school friends into frequent sexual encounters, taking great pleasure in seeking out the boys who had not yet indulged in intercourse. She became teacher of sexual deviations to her youthful friends and was particularly fascinated by seducing her male relatives. There is no firm answer as to what will happen to Janet. Will she eventually overcome her strong incestuous desires? Will she be able to pacify the sexual monster raging deep within her inner being? Only Janet herself will be able to resolve these deep problems only by her own self-awareness and acceptance of therapy will she be able to assume a positive attitude regarding her problems. It is only this realization that will bring her to a favorable therapeutic resolution.