Case History 6: A Bully Father ... A Sensual Daughter....
Peggy D. made an interesting discovery one day as she encountered her father as she came out of the shower. It was at that moment that she knew that he desired her, that one day he would sexually know her despite their blood relationship.
Stuart D. was a bully. He was a big, hulking man, well over two hundred pounds and standing several inches over six feet tall. He ran his family with a decidedly iron hand; everyone, his wife, two sons and Peggy, at one time or another knew the brutality of his hard hands. A construction worker who had lately specialized in home repairs, Stuart earned a considerable wage. He spent much of it on himself, drinking excessively, frequenting whorehouses in the slum neighborhood of his city.
Stuart was very open about almost everything in his life. He made no secret of his infidelities, his drinking, or, eventually, his sexual desire for his daughter, Peggy. His twelve-year-old, budding daughter began to gnaw at his mind, and particularly at his crotch. The skimpy summer clothing that she wore around the house caused many a hard-on on a warm summer evening as Stuart sat drinking a can of beer in front of the television set. Her bouncy little tits caught his eye favorably, as did her swishing ass as she pranced in front of him, almost, it seemed, deliberately.
Peggy had only a towel draped around her young body when she met her father in the upstairs hallway of their home one particularly hot, mid-August evening.
"What're you hiding there, kid?" Stuart asked, grinning widely.
Peggy flushed. "Nothing, daddy."
"You're damn right you're hiding nothing," her father laughed. "Nothing worth bothering about, anyway, at least for another year or so."
"I have to go to my room, daddy," Peggy said, ignoring his remark but unable to cool the flush that had appeared at her cheeks.
Stuart laughed and did not move from where he blocked his daughter's path. Then he suddenly whipped out his big hand and snatched the towel roughly from her young body. Droplets of water glistened across her naked form.
"Daddy!" Peggy protested. She tried to cover her tiny titties with crossed arms.
"Well, I'll be goddamned," Stuart bellowed. "You're more grown up than I thought. Hell, some day you'll be a regular knockout chick."
The "someday" of Stuart's prediction occurred a few weeks after Peggy's thirteenth birthday. She had bloomed forth a full-blown woman's body, large tits, hard nipples, narrow waist, flaring hips, and shapely legs, as well as a healthy bush of pubic hair. Peggy was alone with her father. It was a warm autumn Saturday afternoon and the girl was dressed in bra and tight shorts. Her feet were bare. She had just finished vigorously brushing her long, blonde hair, sitting at the vanity. As she replaced the brush and glanced into the mirror again, she saw her father watching her from the doorway. She could tell he was very, very drunk. She could also tell that he had chosen this day for the event of her sexual violation. It was just a strong feeling that gripped Peggy as she watched her father.
"Oh, daddy, what are you doing here?" she questioned, looking straight ahead into the mirror.
"Now just what the hell do you think I'm doing here, kid?" he replied.
"Looking at me," she said sassily.
"Oh, my, ain't we the bright one though. You're just full of bright answers this afternoon."
Peggy did not answer.
"Come over here," Stuart commanded his daughter. "Come over here right now."
"I'm busy, daddy," Peggy told him. "I've got lots of things to do this afternoon and I want to start doing them. Please, daddy, I really have to get on with them."
"Goddamn it, I said get over here." Stuart was shouting loudly at his daughter now.
She turned and looked at him, then said, "Oh, come on, daddy, leave me alone. Go get yourself another beer and watch TV or something."
Stuart's face turned livid with rage. In a few quick strides he was across the room and had his hands wound into his daughter's thick hair. He jerked her to her feet. Then he slapped her hard across the chest, sending her spinning to the bed. Before she could raise, he was upon her, his rough fingers ripping off her clothing.
"Oh, daddy, please stop," Peggy screamed as her father kept ripping. "Please, daddy, please!"
"Oh, shut up, you slut. You've been asking for this for a long time. You knew you would be in for a fucking. Why the way you've been prancing around lately, you've been asking for a rape. I thought by now one of your brothers would have gotten into your hot panties, but I don't give a damn now. I've got a hot cock here and I aim to get it cool and fast. Now, shut up or you'll get hurt."
Peggy began to sob as her father ripped off the last shreds of her shorts and then hungrily ran his hands over her young body. The lust in his eyes burned at her flesh as he pushed and jabbed at her tits and then brought his face down upon one small tit, sucking on the tiny nipple with such force that Peggy cried out in fear.
"Oh, shut up, you bitch," Stuart barked drunkenly. "I won't bite it, but if you don't shut up, I will."
Peggy bit her lower lip in a grimace as her father continued sucking and slurping over her titties, going from one to the other, pulling at the nipples and then snapping them back into place. The pain was almost excruciating for Peggy but she feared that any outcry would bring her father to violence. She endured his slobbering lips as they raced over her young body, greedily searching out her anatomy in a sex-crazed lust that she knew was not to be controlled.
Stuart screamed at his daughter. "Now, baby, I'm gonna fuck you and fuck you like hell! You've never had a fuck like I'm gonna throw to you. Now just get good and juicy for this damn cock of mine. It needs some cunt juice, kid, and you'd better have it."
Peggy knew that she could not fight off her crazed father, that she could not avoid the rupture of her virginity that he intended. All that she could hope for was that he would be gentle. He was not gentle. He was fierce, wild, mad with passion.
Stuart's heavy weight pinned his child beneath him. The rough material of his work pants rubbed and scratched against the soft skin of her inner thighs. He plunged hard, making Peggy scream, then slapped her for the sound she uttered. He pounded to her as relentlessly as if she were one of the prostitutes he bought on Friday nights. And when he had finished with her, he warned her.
"Not a goddamn word about this, kid," he said. "Not one fucking word or I'll make you do some things that'll make your hair stand on end."
It was a sufficient warning. Peggy did not tell of the incestuous affair until two years later when she was within the security of a policewoman's office. An investigation by a welfare officer had brought her there. Peggy was grateful.