Chapter 1

The case of Lynne H. gives us a striking example of how puritanical sex codes may turn against those who practice it and eventually result in more perversity than they were originally intending to curb. It is within the character of Lynne's father, Burt, that we shall see this strange, and not too uncommon metamorphosis.

Lynne H. is fifteen years old, blonde and blue-eyed. She is a beautiful girl who has only recently acquired a woman's body. But her emotions do not as yet coincide with her feminine being. As all young people, though, she strove to discover the natural beauty of sex with people her own age.

Growing up in a small town in central California, Lynne was raised by her father. Burt is a rough man who works the oil fields nearby. His wife left him with their small child after he had beaten her one night in a drunken rage. Thus, the protection of Lynne fell solely into his hands, and he developed a very strict sense of morality as a result.

I spoke with Lynne not long after the events of this case occurred. She was a little older, and much wiser because of what happened to her. But her enthusiasm, and the hope of finding her own happiness in the future were still with her. I think after reading the printed form of our taped conversations, the reader will find in her an intelligence and awareness of life. These factors help in her discussion of the case, and in her ability to remember in vivid detail what took place daring that summer when her father used his strict sense of morality to violate his own daughter.

The feeling was always there. It was there ever since I could remember. That constant, almost nightmare feeling that he was watching me, waiting for me to grow up. Now, after all that has happened, I realize that the whole thing wasn't some kind of figment of my imagination.

My father and I lived in this small town near some oil fields on the coast. It was one of those places where every Saturday night the place came alive and then died the next morning. I knew that sometime I would have to leave, have to go to the city or something and get away. But as it turned out, it was just too late.

When my mother left us, I was about four years old. I don't remember her too well. Daddy took all the pictures of her down, and there was no way which I could even tell what she had looked like. It was like, after she left, she had never existed. All of a sudden, she was a non-person like from some of those science fiction books.

As I was growing up, there were things that daddy did with me that, until now, seemed perfectly alright. He used to give me baths, and wash me all over. He would run his hands up and down my back, pinch my buttocks and sometimes even run his hand up between my legs. I had played with myself a little by then, and when he touched me there, right in my vagina, it really shook me.

One night, when I was about nine years old, he really went pretty far. He had just showered me and dried me off. He carried me naked back into the bedroom and lay me down on the bed. I felt funny because of the way he was staring at me, I had never seen that kind of look in his face before.

"You look fine, my little Lynne...." He said, grinning from ear to ear. Then, he lowered his pants. His penis was huge and standing out stiff and red. He began jacking himself off, slowly moving his hands up and down the length with even, sensual strokes.

"Ah yeah," he moaned, "someday a boy's going to come inside you ... and you're going to open your legs for him. Go ahead, open your legs!"

I did as he commanded. There was a funny tingling sensation in my stomach. He stared between my thighs, his eyes seemingly driving into my vagina. I waited, frightened and not sure of what he would do next. Then, he began pulling on himself harder and harder. A huge amount of white semen shot from him, and some landed on my stomach. I thought I would throw up when the hot stuff landed there, and got up and ran into the bathroom. As I stood in the bathtub trying to wash the stuff off, all I could hear was his terrible laughter from the bedroom.

For a long time, that scene really bothered me. But there was nothing I could do about it nor anyone I could talk to. So, it kind of just faded into my memory. It was the only way I could face him after that, the only way I could stay in the same house with him.

All this time, he was changing. He began drinking a lot and swearing all over the place. As one year, then another, passed, he grew more and more demanding and belligerent. He ordered me around as though I was a slave or something, and he wound up drinking at least a whole bottle of whiskey a night.

Finally, when I was fourteen, things began to change for me. My body had developed pretty well, my breasts were large and shapely, and my pubic hair formed an almost perfect blonde triangle. It was nice because I began to see myself as a woman, I mean, someone who might be attractive to boys. I really began to dream about some guy who might come along and take me away from my father.

Sex for me had been something that I didn't dare to even explore. My father's lectures were really something else. He would stand near the door to the bathroom, while I was naked behind the shower curtain, and preach to me. This began when I was about fourteen and was really self-conscious about my body.

"You watch yourself, Lynne," he would say, stopping only to take a long swig on his bottle, "boys are goin' to be chasin' you all over the place. They'll try an get between those long, thin legs of yours and plant themselves. You got to be careful, save yourself for the right man ... your husband. And even then, when you're married and he rolls over and suckles those big, soft tits of yours and brings his hand up between those creamy thighs, you got to turn him away. At those times, you just think of your old daddy and all the hard work he's done to raise you right and proper. And if a boy ever tries to make you do something awful, like take him into your sweet little mouth, you just tell me and I'll git his hide!!!"

And then he would lean against the doorway and wait for me to step out of the shower. I would hold off as long as possible, always hoping that he would leave. But he would stay there until I finally had to reach out and grab a towel. The rack was far enough away from the tub so that I would have to show my breast. His eyes were always right there, waiting to catch a glimpse of my breast.

"Yessir," he would shout, "men are going to try and pervert you, destroy that little body of yours. Your ol' daddy will be a waitin' for 'em, though, you just count on it, honey!"

And then finally, he would leave. It was amazing, but this happened every time I took a shower when he was around. I began to shower in the afternoons, while he was still at work. That worked for awhile and allowed me to have my first sexual experience.

There was a lake near my house where we kids went swimming during the summer months. Spring had arrived and one afternoon I walked down to the beach. No one was around, the place was empty because the water was still pretty cold.

I wandered around the beach for awhile, just happy to be alone. But when I lay down on the warm sand, this strange tingling seemed to invade my whole body. I became aware of my breasts, not because my daddy was staring at them, but because they seemed to be growing hard. I rubbed my nipples, and beneath the thin material of my blouse, I could feel them growing hard. I had never noticed this before, even during those times when I struggled in the shower to get myself wrapped in a towel.

I slid my hand underneath my blouse and lifted the cotton of my bra above my breast. Just having it naked like that, being able to touch the warm skin capped by my rock hard nipple really got me off. I pinched the nipple, then stroked it lightly, trying to find exactly the touch that made me feel best. Soon, I was unbuttoning my blouse. When it hung open, my breasts became exposed to the warm sun and air, and I was really getting turned on.

It had never occurred to me just how good my body was. My breasts were large and topped with symmetrical nipples that looked like the kind those girls in the magazines had. When I lay back, they fell evenly on my chest, pointing out just slightly in each direction. Then I sat up, and watched them fall down across my chest. It was amazing to me how they moved, and how good they seemed.

The afternoon was really picking up. There was nothing that could stop me. I felt as though I was beginning to know myself for the first time, to really experience my own body. Until that time, everything about myself had been a point of shame and dirt. Those things that daddy kept saying to me, those words of warning, had always made me disregard myself. But on this warm and sunny day, I was learning to forget those words, and to see what really existed.

I stood upright and threw my blouse to the ground. Just that act gave me a thrill. In a moment, my bra also fell to the ground and I was naked from the waist up. I felt freer than I had ever felt before. The energy, that strange tingle between my legs, was growing steadily. It was a new feeling for me, coming on as strong as it was, and it gave me a sense of myself and the excitement which might have been possible in life ... especially with another boy.

I walked around for a while, just feeling my breasts bounce and watching them. The nipples were rock hard, and they began aching. I rubbed them softly, then lifted my breast to my mouth and ran my tongue around the circular buds, letting the tingle shoot through my entire body. It was the most incredible feeling I had ever had.

Then I noticed a moisture between my legs that I had never known before. My panties were soaking wet, and my thighs felt like they were on fire. I massaged my belly, then let my fingers roam downwards underneath my jeans and panties. When I reached the top edge of my furry patch, I began to grow dizzy with excitement.

Quickly, without thinking anymore about any thing but just allowing myself to feel, I unzipped my jeans and pulled them down. After stepping out of them, I slid my panties down and stood completely naked on the beach. I was so excited, so tense with the new sensations shooting through my body that I felt if I moved even one inch I would burst apart. So, I just stood there, perfectly still and unable to move.

The warm wind seemed to take my body and caress it with its gentle fingers. It roamed around my breasts, then down across my stomach and seemed to drift between my moist thighs. The juices were flowing like a fountain, and my loins were burning up. Finally, I gathered the courage to touch myself there.

At first, the sensation was so strong that it seemed unreal. The lips of my vagina seemed larger than they looked. They were wet and seemed to pulsate as I ran my finger up and down the length of each side. Then, I pulled them apart and touched myself inside.

It was like diving into a warm, exciting world. The more I pushed my finger up into myself, the more my whole body tingled. I went up as far as I could and closed my legs tightly around my hand. Then I fell to my knees, unable to stand the fantastic sensations that were flowing through me.

I lay back on the sand and spread my legs. I suddenly felt more daring and alive than I had for a long time. I wanted everyone to see me naked, I wanted to expose myself to the universe.

I pushed myself further than I had ever been before. My thighs were like open gates as my hand roamed firmly between them into my writhing cunt. All of my flesh revolved around the center core of my vagina. Then I discovered my clitoris.

It felt strangely erect, like a small piece of flesh accidentally placed at the top edge of my crack. Each time I touched it, the sensation shot from it like a bolt of lightning. I pulled the layer of skin around it and moved it back and forth, not really being able to touch the small bud directly.

In the midst of all this, when I felt myself floating towards the bright sun in a swirl of ecstasy, I thought about my father. His image came into my mind like an invader of secret dreams. His face, contorted from whiskey, leering like a savage horny old man stuck in my skull. I stopped moving completely, lay back and tried to get that image from my mind. But it was useless.

As I dressed, I realized that I had been affected in some strange way. I wondered why the pleasure I had been feeling during those moments couldn't have lasted. I was angry more because the words of warning, the very things he had said to me were nothing more than his own desires. Sex felt good, there didn't seem to be anything wrong with it and yet, he had told me what a sin it all was. And now, as I was getting close to that place his words and the image of him had destroyed it all. I was furious by the time I started the long walk back to town. But I was also determined to find a boy, and experience the real thing. I knew that if it was anything like what I had just gone through, then it must be well worth it.

I continued masturbating for a long time after that. Late at night, after I made certain that daddy was out cold from a heavy night of drinking, I would lift my nightie above my waist and begin. Each night, as I played with myself, I discovered those places between my legs that seemed to give me the most pleasure, I felt as though I was getting closer and closer to orgasm. I knew that eventually it had to come, that someday I would be able to find some total release. But the fear of being discovered, that constant threat of my father walking in my room to find me sprawled half naked on my bed with my hands between my legs was always there. It was something that I would never get over.

But then I met Steve. Steve was a mechanic in town who I knew just slightly from the times when daddy would allow me to ride in with him to get supplies and gasoline. Steve seemed very nice. He was tall and pretty good looking, but not handsome. What seemed really good about him, though, was his smile. It was real friendly and open, as though he was really capable of being honest. It wasn't the kind of leer which I had seen so many times on the face of my father.

The day I met Steve, daddy left me in the car while he went across the street to get some more whiskey. Steve was waiting on the car, and as he cleaned off the windshield, he looked in at me and smiled.

"You're looking better every day, Lynne." I blushed. It was the first time in a long time that anyone said anything nice to me. Most of the boys around really were frightened of the old man, and wouldn't dare make a pass at me for fear of the consequences.

"Your old man really keeps you locked away, don't he?"

It was a relief to find someone who seemed to understand.

"Yes," I replied, wondering what was taking daddy so long.

"You should get out and around a little. You know, see some movies or something...." Then he came to the window and leaned inside. "There's a good film at the Central. Get yourself a girl friend for cover and meet me there."

Then he backed away real quickly. My father was crossing the street, carrying a large bag with a couple of bottles inside.

"Ten o'clock. Back row."

"What the Hell did he say to you?" My father was angry, the last words from Steve had reached his ears just as he was lowering himself into the front seat.

"Nothing, daddy...." I was scared. But my father was in a good mood because he had just been paid and, as was usual, had just spent the better part of his pay on whiskey.

"Okay, fuck it!"

He tore out of the station. I looked back and saw Steve watching us. He held up both hands as a signal for the time when we should meet. My heart began to beat wildly, and I was afraid that my father might hear.

When I got home, I called up Sally. She wanted to go to the movies, and it was alright with my father because he was having one of his card games that night anyway. All afternoon, I paced around my bedroom, half scared and half anticipating what was to come that night.

When Sally finally came over, with her mother waiting in the car out front, daddy was already drunk. He looked at Sally with a leer. She was pretty well-built, with long dark legs and long black hair. Her breasts were pretty well defined beneath her flimsy dress, and daddy really ate the whole sight up.

"Well," he said, taking a long swig, "take care of yourselves. Your mom's going in with you, ain't she?"

"Yes, sir, she is," Sally lied. But we knew neither would talk to the other because Sally's mother was terrified of my father. I really couldn't blame her, either.

When we finally got to the theater, I explained what the situation was to Sally. She agreed, telling me that it was high time I got myself into a little trouble.

Steve was waiting for me in the back row. He grinned broadly when he saw me. As I sat down beside him, I realized that we were alone, the next people being three rows in front of us.

"I didn't think you'd really come." He said taking my hand and squeezing it.

"It was easy. But if daddy ever finds out, we're in big trouble."

"Yeah, I know." But he laughed as though no one, especially my father, could scare him off. It made me feel good to know that he wanted to be with me badly enough to risk being caught by my father. No other boy had ever been that brave because of me.

We watched the film for a while. Then, from nowhere, he leaned over and kissed me. It was the first time I had ever been kissed. His tongue worked hard to get inside my mouth, and finally I opened myself to him. He jabbed inside, ran his flesh along my teeth and then plunged further inside.

I was really beginning to enjoy the feel of his mouth against mine. But then his hand came down on my knee. I tightened up immediately, not wanting to go too fast.

"Easy," he whispered, sliding his hand now up my thighs to the edge of my panties, "just touching. Okay?"

I didn't know what to do at that moment. I knew if I let the situation go any further then I would have to go all the way. But the day had been spent thinking, wondering what it would be like to be close. I had masturbated in the shower and had gotten myself really hyped up then. Now, just after kissing him, I was really turned on. I knew deep down inside that I would never be able to stop.

"C'mon Lynne. I don't hurt...."

I spread my legs and he moaned as he slid his hand up against my crack. My vagina seemed to ripple as he glided his palm gently up and down. My panties were soaking wet, and the heat seemed to pour out from between my thighs like an oven.

"You're wet," He said.

"Yes...." I moaned, feeling dizzy and loving every movement and every touch. "Take them off."

"I can't!"

"Why not?"

It was a good question. I mean, it was dark in the theater, and no one would ever know. I pulled up my dress, felt his eyes on my thighs, and quickly slid the wet panties down over my legs. It felt very strange to be naked in public, or at least naked beneath my dress. I was quickly getting hotter than I had ever been before.

Steve quickly slid his hand between my legs and touched my crack. He held his fingers there without moving, almost as though any movement might start an explosion. I waited breathlessly for him to do something, to start something which would get me off.

"You're beautiful," He whispered, and then he lowered his head onto my lap. I panicked because I was sure that someone would see us there. But Steve wasn't afraid. He pulled my dress up to my hips, and put his mouth to my cunt.

I began moaning softly, trying to keep my voice down as he drove his tongue up and down along my crack. His flesh was soft and warm, and he worked in and out of me smoothly and delicately. I was feeling like I was going crazy, and I knew at that moment that I wanted to fuck him.

I opened my legs far and let his head rest between them. He pulled open my lips and drove his tongue deep inside me. Then he pulled out and worked my clit, moving that bud back and forth with the tip of his tongue until I thought I would fly right out of the theater.

"Come up, Steve, enough!"

He rose from between my naked legs and put his head against my breasts. Quickly, he opened my blouse and pulled my bra down across my tit until my breast stood out naked. He put his teeth to my nipple and began biting it softly, moving his tongue against it while he did this.

I was getting so worked up that I thought I would have to leave the theater. I was sure everyone there knew what was happening between us. I kept thinking that at any moment my father would barge in, holding his shotgun and kill us both. But then Steve would bite down on my nipple a little harder, and I would be jolted back to reality. Finally, he leaned back against his seat, exhausted and breathing heavily.

"Your turn," He said.

"My turn for what?"

"This...." And he took my hand and rested it on his groin. I could feel the hard staff beneath his pants, and the way it twitched each time I moved my fingers.

After all the things my father had warned me about, nothing had been of greater ominousness than a man's penis. To my father, what I was doing now would have carried at least a life's sentence in prison.

"Does it feel good?" Steve asked as I began stroking him, marveling at the length and at the hardness of his prick.

"Yes ... but take it out!"

He looked shocked. But I wanted to do everything my father had told me not to. Once and for all, I wanted to prove to myself that my father's warnings were just a lot of bullshit; that a woman's vagina and a man's penis were as natural parts of their bodies as was lips and noses.

Steve struggled for a few moments, then pulled his pink shiny cock from inside his pants. I took the staff into my hand and squeezed it. A tiny bud of white liquid drooled from the hole, and I knelt over and flicked it up with my tongue. Steve groaned.

"Shut-up!" I cried, almost laughing.

"You're driving me crazy!" He moaned.

"It's going to get a lot worse!" I was really beginning to enjoy myself. Everything had lost the aura of dirtiness and sin that my father had placed on it. I knew then and there that sex would become my thing, that I would live only for the feel of a man inside me.

I licked the head of his prick. The mushroom bud was huge, and it seemed to emanate its own warmth. Then I put my lips around it and drew him deep inside my mouth.

Steve tightened up as I rode up and down his penis. I let him pump strongly into my mouth, and extended my neck at an angle so that I would be able to take even more of him inside.

Then I felt his penis begin to pulsate. The white semen shot up into my mouth with more force than I had anticipated. I gagged and choked as I tried to take all of it inside. Finally, though, I managed to swallow it. Steve lay back against the seat and smiled at me.

"You are unbelievable!"

"You're pretty good yourself...."

"How many times have you done that?"

"This was my first...."

He seemed shocked but pleased. "My God, you do it better than anyone I've ever had. You're a natural!"

I stuffed his penis back into his pants. I enjoyed the feel of it even when it was soft. I played with his sacs, squeezing each ball separately then running my finger up between them gently.

"Let's leave this shit hole of a town."

I laughed at the idea, but could see that he was perfectly serious about it. He really wanted to take me away. But I knew that I couldn't go.

"My daddy'll get me arrested. And you'll be thrown in some jail for all kinds of things...."

Steve thought about this for a moment, then realized that I was right. I wasn't even close to the age of consent.

"We'll keep seeing each other, though, won't we?" He seemed really unsure whether or not I would be with him again.

"We still haven't made love."

He laughed.

After that night, I dreamed of the time when Steve and I could really do it. I wanted to have it happen in a bed, somewhere where we could really be free to make all the noise we wanted to. It was a horrible feeling, though, knowing that I would have to wait for such a long time before anything like that happened. Even though daddy didn't suspect anything, I still had to be careful about it. One slip and the whole thing would be over.

Then one weekend it happened. Daddy walked into my bedroom, as usual without knocking, and announced that he was going to see his sister for the night. I knew better. He was going to a roadhouse somewhere up the road, a place he went to a couple of times a year. He always thought I fell for his line about his sister, but he guessed wrong.

"Now you be good, you hear? I don't want you messin' around like all the other dumb-ass little kids whenever their parents leave them alone!"

I told him I would be fine. He was so drunk by the time he got into his pick-up truck that I don't think he even noticed me. I was worried that he might be able to tell exactly what I was thinking or planning to do. What I didn't know at that time was that he knew exactly what I was planning.

The night before, I had snuck into my bedroom and had called Steve. Our conversation had gotten really way out of hand.

"I want to kiss all of you," He had said in that real sexy voice of his.

"I want to feel your lips all over my naked flesh. On my breasts and between my legs. I want you inside me." I had said.

And then Steve had begun breathing real hard. "What are you doing?" I asked, seeing the image of his penis as he pushed it up between my legs.

"I have it in my hand, Lynne, just the sound of your voice makes me all excited."

While I had been talking to him, he had been jacking himself off. "Are you all naked?" I asked, feeling the tingle between my thighs and wishing I were with him.

"Yea," He replied....

And then I really got carried away. I started telling him things. Like I said that I wanted to take his penis into my mouth again, to kiss every part of him there and to suck on his balls. I said that I wanted to have him eat me out, run his tongue all the way up inside me, and then to push his cock deep into my belly. My breathing was getting heavier and heavier, and then I listened as he came. He moaned loudly into the telephone and I began to shake all over.

After I had hung up the phone I was so excited that I was about ready to try anything to get to see Steve. This feeling of desperation lasted until the next day, at the time when daddy told me about his little visit to his 'sisters'. What I didn't know was that he had heard all of the conversation the night before, and that he had known about Steve and myself.

I watched him drive off, and when I was sure he had gone I ran into the house to call Steve.

"He's gone!" I said, holding my already moist mound.

"Goddamn! I'll be right over!"

He hung up without saying goodbye. I tore at' my clothing and ran into the shower. I wanted to be perfect for what I knew would be the greatest day of my life. As I ran the bar of soap over my flesh, I became really turned on. I spread my legs and held the soap there, and rocked back and forth along the bar until I thought I would faint with dizziness. And then I heard the doorbell.

I wrapped a towel around me and ran to the front door.

"Beautiful, baby, just beautiful!" Steve stood there grinning. His eyes moved up and down my body. I stepped away from the door and dropped the towel. It was the first time he had ever seen me naked.

"How am I?" It was the first time any boy had ever seen me in the nude.

"The best...." He took me into his arms and pushed himself up against my belly. I threw my legs around his and began moving my wet cunt up and down his jeans.

"Let's go fuck!"

We ran into my bedroom. I didn't even bother to shut the door. I lay back on the mattress and watched Steve as he pulled at his clothes. He was in such a hurry that he ripped three buttons off his shirt. When he was naked, he stood above me and just looked at me.

Then he knelt down over me, took my legs and spread them, then put his mouth between. His tongue worked up and down my crack, and I could hear the noisy licking sounds as he gobbled up my juices. I pushed him further and tighter against me, trying to get him inside.

But I didn't want his tongue this time. I had had that before. Now, I wanted the real thing, his penis.

"Stop it, Steve," I moaned, pulling his head from my mound, "I want you inside me. I want all of you!"

"Okay."

And he lifted himself onto the bed. He hovered above me, and I spread my legs so that he could come down between them. I felt the head of his penis up against my vagina, but he could not enter. I reached down between our bellies and took his hard staff and directed it into my hole.

I could feel the walls of my vagina tear and spread as he entered me. He was larger than I could have ever imagined, and there seemed no end to his length. When he was finally in all the way, we rested.

"My God," I whispered, afraid to talk or make a move, "you feel good!"

"So do you, baby ... so do you...."

And then he began pumping. At first the motions were slow, almost beset with fear. But then he started moving faster and faster. Each time he plunged deeply into me, I felt as though my entire being would burst apart.

"Ooooh ... ahhhh...!" I cried, thrashing my pelvis up to meet his, throwing my legs high onto his back so that he could have all of me.

It seemed as though all of our skin, each square inch of our bodies was coming together and melting. I did not feel as though it would ever end, but just continue on and on. I never wanted it to stop, I always wanted to feel like I did at that moment.

"Goddamn you, you bastard! Get out of my house before I kill you!!!"

Daddy was standing in the doorway to the bedroom. The shotgun was pointed directly at Steve's head. Steve came at that moment, and I will always remember a quirky little smile building at the corners of his mouth. He had ejaculated into the vagina of the daughter of the man who stood behind him ready to kill him. I have always thought that it was one of the grooviest orgasms ever.

"You little runt! Get your prick out of here before I shoot it off your skinny little body!!!"

Steve winked at me. I could tell that he was scared, and would probably go get the Sheriff or something. I knew as I watched my father push him out of the house that I was in for the beating of my life. I felt that if I could keep the feelings I had just had with Steve alive, that I could endure any kind of beating the old man might give me.

When Steve was finally gone, Daddy came storming back into the bedroom. He was drunk and roaring mad. His eyes were on fire and he dripped saliva from the corners of his mouth. He seemed more like a wild, rabid animal than an outraged moralist.

"You little whore, fucking with anyone with a rod that gets hard!!!"

"Please daddy...." I cried, covering my nakedness with the bedspread.

"You'll just open your legs for anyone, won't you!"

And then he seemed to calm down. He lowered his gun, then dropped it onto the floor. He sat down on the bed next to me and tried to pull the covers away from my breasts. I held on tight.

"Oh, come on, baby. I'm sorry about all this. You remember how you used to treat me when you were small. You would do anything for me. How about a little kiss, huh?"

I was becoming more terrified of this than of the beating. I was beginning to pray that he would start slugging me rather than do what it appeared he might do.

"Go to Hell you dirty, horny, fucked up old man!!!"

The words shocked him. He raised his hand and then slammed the opened palm across my face. In a strange way I was relieved as I fell back onto the bed.

"No little bitch is going to call me that!!!" And then he ripped the covers away from me. I was naked, and drew my legs tightly together so that maybe I could prevent him from entering me.

But his strength was too much. He tore open my legs and ran his hands firmly up between my thighs. He grabbed my mound and pushed one finger strongly inside my vagina.

"There, little girl, that's where it's all happening. From now on, it belongs to just me. No other stud ever gets inside you, ever!"

I watched him as though from a dream. He took his clothes off slowly, and when he was naked, he brought himself to where my head lay.

"Here," he said, holding his huge prick near my lips, "open yourself for me ... like you did for him."

I couldn't do it. But then he pinched my nose so that I couldn't take any air and when I finally had to open my mouth his penis was inside. He lunged unevenly back and forth into my mouth, and I thought he would plunge his prick back through the wall of my throat. Finally, he withdrew.

He walked around the bed, looking me over and smiling wickedly at what he saw.

"Pretty neat stuff. And you're all mine. Every man's little girl should always be his, no matter what!"

I felt him get down between my legs. He kissed every part of me and then put his tongue to my vagina. When he was through there, he peered at me across my belly.

"You like your old man? He isn't so bad after all, is he?"

Then he stood up, lifted my legs and spread them out at a right angle. I was wide open, and I could feel the heat of his prick as he got closer and closer to me. Finally, the huge tip ripped through my lips and he plunged deep inside.

I gripped the sides of the bed, trying to hold on with everything I had. He moved strongly and without any kind of gentleness. Somehow, life had made him some kind of wild animal, his urges had become uncontrollable and what was worse, without any love.

The maddening scene seemed to last a lifetime. With relief I felt him shudder, then I felt his white stuff pour into my vagina. He fell across me, breathing hard and went to sleep immediately.

I left home that night. My father was so wiped out by the whole thing that he wouldn't have awakened if a million tons of TNT had fallen on his head.

The nearest highway found me a ride within ten minutes. I had to give the guy driving a blow job, and then he took me all the way to L.A.

I am now eighteen years old. Men like me, they always try and pick me up wherever I go. But I am not sure if there will ever be a time when I could stand the thought of a man making love to me. Maybe, though, someone who is gentle, kind and understanding will come along who might be able to help me. I guess I am just waiting for that person, trying to keep myself together in the meantime.

SUMMARY

This case demonstrates the peculiar powers which sexual repression and the ensuing sense of frustrated morality has on various individuals. It is important to note the progression of the father in this case through his various stages of guilt.

In the beginning, when Lynne was just a little girl, Burt, the father, used her tender body as a sexual toy. He even went so far, in one example quoted by Lynne, to force the small child into performing fellatio upon him. But this series of events, even though it obviously gave the man pleasure, created within him a strong and certain sense of guilt. This shame would have to be worked out in some way.

That manner of working out his own guilt feelings came from preaching sermons of morality to his own daughter. But these sermons were schizophrenic in nature. It should be noted that the only times Burt really became moralistic was when Lynne was standing naked behind the shower curtain. Obviously, the silhouette of her naked young body excited him; but the guilt forced him into words of sexual morality rather than into any acts of sexuality. Thus, within the man, there developed a tormented sense of desire, but a desire that was accompanied at the same time by a strong feeling of guilt.

The solution to the problem lay with Steve. In his subconscious mind, Burt saw that if he caught his little girl doing exactly what he had warned her not to, then he would have all the justification he needed to have her himself. If he could make her lose her virginity, or at least catch her in the act, then there would be no more sacred cows which needed protection.

The afternoon with Steve gave Burt the breakthrough that he needed. And, as is evident by Lynne's recounting of the episode, he took full advantage of his psychological opportunity.

With Lynne herself, we see a young girl who is willing to learn about life through her own experiences rather than through the warnings of her father. She goes against his word, seeking to establish herself as an independent woman capable of love. In so doing, she succumbs to Burt's strange games and finds herself the victim of his repressed lust.

Lynne has analyzed the problem and understands the ramifications of her experiences with her father. The intelligence, however, may know one thing and the emotions another. It is in Lynne's own words that the young, beautiful girl knows exactly what she needs. With her inquisitive and fearless mind, it is certain that eventually she will find it, and with it, she will discover herself as a complete woman.