Chapter 3
Carol W. is seventeen years old. Tall, with flaming red hair and the body of a Hollywood starlet, she is the kind of girl who could have any man she went after. But Carol also carried with her extreme good looks a quick and active mind-and with this facility, she has attempted to rectify what she felt to be a sexually repressed situation within her family, especially with her father.
Born and raised in the suburbs of Los Angeles, Carol was one of two sisters. Her mother left the family when she was only three years old and she and her older sister had to play the role of housewife for the man who was their father. Jim W., Carol's father, thus worked hard to raise his daughters, to make them into the kind of women who 'wouldn't cop out' like their mother had.
This bitterness held on the part of the father resulted in a strict puritanical ethic which he employed for every venture. His tremendous ability to stifle all emotions, to make every nuance of sexuality something wicked and taboo finally led the two girls into a search for themselves. It is this search for sexual fulfillment and the inevitable inclusion of Jim within their own private sexual revolution which we shall deal with here.
Using a tape recorder and the bright, willing nature of Carol, I was able to construct the events which finally led to the act of incest between Carol and her father. Her story is one which could easily be termed a microcosm of American society and the changes that have taken place in our society over the past decade. I am hopeful that, with this perspective in mind, this case history will provide illumination into the act of incest and into the state of sexuality in the world today.
I remember what life was like before all this happened. I was sixteen and Mary, my sister, was one year older. Daddy was working in a real estate office, a highly respected businessman who never indulged in the foolishness that the other men in his profession used to. I mean, after board meetings or conventions, the guys would get together and go to bars where the girls danced in the nude; or they would go to massage parlours and get themselves jacked off, or something like that. But never my daddy. He would shake his head, decline the invitations so many times that after a while they stopped asking him to go along altogether.
Not that either my sister or I wanted him to make the scene all over town. But his refusal to do anything, to ever get himself out there for some fun made us both feel kind of guilty. I mean, here we were, his two little girls preventing him from having a good time. By the time we would be old enough to go our own way, then, he would be too old to have any fun.
And our life at home was just as bad. We would come home from school, clean the house, make dinner and sit down to conversations dealing with politics or art or something like that. Daddy would never ask either of us if we were seeing any boys, because that was strictly prohibited until we were in college. So, the same kind of stifled existence that he led while away from home he imposed on us girls when he came home every night.
It was at about this time that Mary and I began talking about the situation.
It was very late at night, during the summer, and I was having trouble getting to sleep. I just lay in bed, feeling my stomach tighten with the desperate feeling that nothing would ever happen to me or that I would ever get out of this mess. And then I heard Mary.
She was moaning softly, and the sound was accompanied by the rustle of her bedclothes. I thought maybe she was ill or something, so I jumped out of bed and went to her room.
Daddy always made us both wear these ridiculous flannel nightgowns, I guess because if we wore nighties or something sexy like that he felt he would get turned on or something. Anyway, when I walked into Mary's room, her nightgown was lying on the floor next to her bed. "Mary?" I was scared.
She continued to moan as though not hearing my call.
"Mary!" I went over to her bed and there she was. The blankets were thrown back and she was lying on the white sheets completely naked. Her legs were hanging over either side of the mattress and her hand was up between them. She had red hair like me, and her fiery looking cunt was wet where she was rubbing it vigorously.
She looked up at me with glazed eyes and smiled. She shook her head back and forth as if to say: 'don't interrupt me.'
I watched her, amazed at the beauty of her body. I knew I had a good body, but I had never really seen Mary's. Her breasts were as large as mine, and her legs were just as long and thin. I felt myself growing warm as I watched her.
Then, she began moaning loudly. The air whistled from between her lips and she grimaced as though in pain. Her fingers were working furiously at her vagina, and then she threw her legs up, arched her back and after holding that position for a few seconds fell limp onto the bed.
"Ahhhh...." She seemed happier than I had ever seen her.
"What was it?" I asked, never having done it to myself before and wanting to make sure of what it was that I had just seen.
"Honey," she replied, rolling over onto her side and not bothering to cover herself, "that was called 'wanking'."
"Wanking?"
"That's the English word for it. Here we say 'beating off, 'masturbation' ... all kinds of words and phrases. They mean about the same thing, though. It's when there's no man to do it with, you've got to learn to do it to yourself."
"But why do it in the first place?" I was genuinely curious. All my life had been spent denying myself any pleasures of the body, and I really wanted to know if this was a way out.
"When you do it, Carol, you'll know what I'm talking about...."
Just standing there above her bed, gazing down on her naked body and talking with her made me excited. "I wanted to throw off my nightie and see what it felt like to be naked without having to take a shower or anything. But it was too soon for that, I would have to proceed slowly and with caution.
"Don't ever tell daddy!" She called out as I was leaving her room.
"Even if I did," I answered, "he wouldn't want to know about it!"
I left my sister naked in her room and walked down the long hallway towards mine. But on the way, I stopped and peeked in at my father. He was sleeping soundly, bundled up in heavy flannel pajamas with the covers pulled up almost above his head. I stood there in the doorway staring at him. There was something wrong here, something that was missing from all of our lives. It gave me a sad feeling, but it also made me more determined than ever to do something about it.
When I got to my room, I closed the door and turned on the little night light above my bed. The room looked like a movie set-the light is very vague and you can hardly see.
Next to my closet was a full-length mirror. I stood in front of it and stared at myself. I pulled my hair high onto my head and posed myself like one of those high fashion models. Then, I started hiking up the hem of my flannel nightie.
It was a shock to look at myself this way. I mean, I had always looked at my legs as some kind of tool or machine, had not sought in them any sense of beauty. But as I held the hem just beneath my hips, I realized that I had very good legs. I put them forward, moved them together and then lifted the hem even higher so that my fiery red pubis was visible. My heart began thumping wildly as I pushed my belly out towards the mirror and watched myself writhe and turn like a strip teaser.
Finally, I pulled the heavy cloth all the way off. I stared in amazement at my breasts, they were large and white and very well set on my chest. The nipples began turning hard and they ached.
I dare not touch myself at that moment. I felt as though one touch in the wrong place and I would shatter into a million pieces. It was good enough just to be standing there naked, looking at my body as a woman would instead of trying to deny the fact that it existed. Afterwards, when I climbed into bed with my nightie firmly back in place I felt much better about myself. I realized that in total ... everything that my father had warned me about and taught me to do were strange words coming from a man who had lost all sense of himself as a sensual person. I knew that if I was to break free of him that I would have to go against everything he stood for at least as far as sex went. I decided at that moment to leave home.
The next morning, before anyone was up, I packed a small duffle bag and took off towards the freeway. I would hitchhike up north and hopefully find somewhere to stay. I didn't know anyone, or know how to earn money. But I was already sixteen years old and I felt that life was passing me by. There wasn't enough time to take practical matters into consideration.
A young guy, driving a Volkswagen bus, came to a screeching halt when he saw me on the onramp. Suddenly, I felt much better about myself and my life. I mean, there was at least one guy in the world who was willing to waste a little rubber on his tires to stop and pick me up.
"How far are you going?" He asked, smiling across the cab. His name was Todd, and he had long hair and a beard. His bus was outfitted with a stove, refrigerator and a bed. He looked like he had been on the road for a long time.
I told him my name and then told him I was going north. I hadn't thought about a destination yet and did not want to appear lost or adrift at sea.
"You got to be going someplace, Carol...." He seemed genuinely upset that I didn't have any specific place to go to.
"Well," I replied, feeling kind of silly, "maybe San Francisco...."
"Far out! That's where I'm going!"
I was happy. Everything at that moment, or at least the small things that I needed, had pulled themselves together.
"But," Todd said, keeping his eyes on the road ahead of him, "I've got to stop near Santa Barbara for a few hours. And I'll probably want to catch some sleep on the road near Sur ... Is that okay with you?"
I didn't realize at that moment what the implications were of what he was asking. I nodded dumbly, feeling more interest in the passing scenery and the sense of my new found freedom than with his strange proposition.
"Anything you want to do will be fine!" I said.
"You're a tough little chick. Tell me, is that flaming red mane of yours real ?"
I smiled. I had always disliked my hair because it was so bright and seemed kind of childish to have red hair. But he seemed to really dig it. "Yes, it's mine...."
He laughed loudly, lit a cigarette for me then one for himself. "And I thought you were going to tell me that there's only one way to find out!"
I thought about that for a minute and then found myself blushing continually for the next five miles after I realized what he had meant.
Just before we reached the town of Santa Barbara, Todd pulled off the highway onto an old dirt road. We drove for about ten minutes up into the mountains behind the town.
"This," He explained, carefully maneuvering over the bumps and ruts in the road, "is a special kind of place. It's run by a former doctor from Berkeley. He was one of the first to realize that Americans are sexually repressed. He opened this place to help people regain a sense of themselves."
Suddenly, it seemed as though fate was working with me. The very reason for which I had left home was now approaching in the form of a therapeutic institute ... a place where people like myself went for treatment. I was becoming very nervous as the front gate loomed up ahead. We stopped and a woman came from the small guard house. She was short, plump and naked from the waist up.
"Todd, how are you?" She was very happy to see Todd. Her breasts were large and meaty, and when she talked they moved up and down.
"Elaine ... I've got the manuals from the printers for him."
"Are you going to stay?" She asked, leaning up against the car so that her nipples were resting against the metal.
"No. Going to 'Frisco. Be back here maybe in three days...."
She walked back to the guard house and opened the small electric gate. Todd waved and grinned to her as we drove through and on up the small gravel roadway towards the main house.
Riding through the grounds of the Institute was like waking up from a dream only to find that it was all real in the first place. There was a huge lawn, and sitting behind the grass was a large, Southern type house with pillars and everything. It was a beautiful place, kind of like a Utopia or something.
But what was more incredible about the place was the fact that everyone was walking around in the nude. I had never seen a man's penis before, and suddenly there were hundreds of them dangling all over the place. When we finally parked the bus, a young guy came running over. I found myself staring right at his bouncing meat, and was fascinated by the sight.
Then, a girl came over who was also naked. She had a thin body and barely any breasts at all. Her long, blonde hair seemed to cover up what little chest she had. It was strange seeing her pubic hair in the sunshine like that, and her crack that was plainly visible beneath her sparse hair.
"Everyone walks around here like this," Todd explained, seeing me looking at the naked bodies as though they were some alien form of life.
"Doesn't anyone mind?" I asked dumbly.
"No, as a matter-of-fact, they all kind of enjoy themselves."
I could see that they did. On the lawn behind us, a young couple was playing a game of tag. The boy was chasing the girl, and when he finally caught up with her, he pulled her to the ground. Then, he grew erect and she reached down and held him as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Then, she put her mouth to him and took his penis between her lips. I was blushing like crazy. At the same time the scene was repulsive and erotic ... I couldn't really decide which.
"Just don't pay any attention to them," Todd smiled, "they're a little turned on. We have a special room where people usually go for that kind of thing."
I waited inside the bus until Todd finished dropping off the manuals he had come to deliver. When he was through, he climbed back inside with two bottles of what looked like very good wine.
"Something to help pass the time...." He grinned broadly, and seemed very nice. At that moment, as we pulled through the road and watched the naked people frolicking on the lawn, I knew that someday I would return to this place. It seemed like a dream, and it also held something for me which I could not understand at that moment. But I knew that I would be back.
We drank the wine and drove through the California afternoon towards San Francisco. Todd was very interested in me, he wanted to know all about me. I told him everything that I could without making it sound as though I were some kind of sex-fiend. But I was getting pretty drunk, and words just kind of poured out of me without my realizing what I was saying.
"I just looked at my sister, laying naked in her bed, masturbating, and that was that. I knew I had to leave there, find out how things really were instead of taking my father's word for it...."
Todd was shocked to hear me talk this way. But he was also intelligent about it. "Sometimes, the only way we can ever know is to try ourselves. That's where all real experience comes from ... you should know that soon."
As we rode and drank, I came to trust him more and more. He accepted me, didn't laugh at my stupid feelings. By the time we reached the road into Big Sur, we were very good friends.
"Let's stop and take a breather...." He pulled over to the side of the road near an open field. There were acres and acres of grass weaving and rustling in the wind. And behind the open space, a tremendous and beautiful forest loomed as far as the eyes could see. I thought it was one of the most beautiful spots I had ever seen.
We took a blanket and what was left of our wine out into the field. We were so far from the highway that we couldn't even see his bus. It was a terrific spot, and I felt freer than I had felt ever before in my life.
"Why don't you take off your blouse?"
I was laying on my back, enjoying the sun and the warm feeling I had from the wine. Todd reached over to me and began unbuttoning my shirt, and when it fell open, he patted my stomach.
"Your skin is too white. You should get more sun...."
His touch was incredible. I shivered when he followed the line from between my breasts down to the top of my pants. Even though I still wore my bra, I was already feeling naked and open.
"Carol," he whispered, resting his hand on my breast, "you are a beautiful chick!"
I was speechless. He was moving very fast. There was nothing I could do, and besides, this is what I had run away for.
Then he pulled the cloth of my bra down across my breast. I shook with excitement as he touched my nipple. Then he put his mouth to it and began sucking on it. His tongue roamed in circles around the tip, sending shots of electricity through me.
"Beautiful breasts ... just beautiful...." He kept repeating the compliment. I just had to lay back and close my eyes. I couldn't stand the feelings, it was like my nervous system was being over-zapped by inputs.
"Sit up...." I ob-eyed. Todd lifted the blouse from my shoulders then unsnapped my bra and pulled it from my body. My breasts fell free, and I realized that I was half-naked with a boy for the first time in my life.
Todd held each of my breasts in his hands. He seemed very pleased with them, and really enjoyed toying with my nipples. I sat almost as a person apart, watching him touch me, then fondle the pink erect buds then lift and drop each of my tits. The pain of his touch was almost excruciating; I was barely able to keep my eyes focused.
"Please," I begged, not being able to take anymore, "no more. Just stop...."
"Alright ... but stay naked...."
"I will."
And he poured some more wine. We sat cross-legged facing each other. He stripped down to his waist and we were both naked in the same places. That made me feel easier. But what made the scene so nice was the fact that I knew my breasts were good, and that he enjoyed looking at them. We began laughing and talking like little kids, and I soon began wondering what the Hell all the ominous warnings from my father had really been for.
The more wine we drank, the calmer I became. After a while, I was laughing and joking with Todd, not caring that occasionally he would lean over and hold my breast. Then, finally, he kissed me. The touch of his naked chest against mine made me shiver with pleasure. I opened my mouth and allowed his tongue to wander freely inside. When we embraced each other, he pushed up against me, I pushed him away. I wanted to try something on my own.
"Wait," I whispered, barely able to get the words out, "I want to do something to you...."
I pushed him down onto his back. He grinned up at me, waiting for me to begin. I unsnapped the top button of his jeans and then pulled all the others apart. He lifted his hips as I struggled to pull the cloth down. Finally, I got them over his feet and he was naked except for his underwear.
"What brought that on?" He asked, laying there with his penis making a large ridge beneath his pants.
"I don't know," I replied, feeling very drunk and very reckless.
"Well," he joked, "whatever it was, don't let it stop now!"
That was all I needed. I pulled the white cloth down across his penis and then off. I stared at his cock laying up against his belly; that large, pink rod that seemed to burn in the afternoon sun. I could feel the moisture between my legs, and I knew that my panties were soaked.
"Go ahead, Carol, touch it."
He took my hand and put it on his warm prick. The skin felt rubbery and hard, and I could feel the heat rising from it like a furnace. I wrapped my fingers around it and began stroking him gently. Each time I moved up and down, it would twitch and tremble. There was a strange feeling of power in doing this, as though I alone con trolled all the pleasure that he would receive from his own organ. I began to really enjoy the feel and the touch of him. I played with his balls, feeling their softness and running my hand up between them and following the ridge that ran on the underside of his penis. It was a whole new world for me, and suddenly I wasn't afraid of it anymore. "Now you, Carol...."
Todd sat up. He pushed me gently down onto my back and kissed me on the mouth, then ran his tongue gingerly down between my breasts, stabbing at each of my nipples then trying to take the whole breast into his warm mouth. I held his head against my chest and tried to pull him tight against me.
My flesh, my skin and my body seemed to be throbbing with a new excitement. It was a warm feeling that I had, a strange and new feeling that I belonged to myself and to the universe. The body was something which could be used for pleasure instead of for shame or hurt. That, to me, was something which I had always known inside myself but had never dared utter in my own home. This thought, this idea of pleasure, was one which tied me into myself so that I felt whole ... I was beginning to arrive with myself, to become a complete human being.
"Raise your hips...." Todd had unbuttoned my jeans and was pulling them down across my ass. I raised myself, and he slid the warm garment off my legs. Now, all that remained between me and him were my panties.
Todd took my legs and spread them. He kissed the inside of each of my thighs, then ran his tongue all the way up between my legs. He pulled the lining of my panties aside and drove his tongue underneath them. I shook with the feel of his warm flesh invading that place that I, myself, had rarely even touched.
"Take them off, Todd ... !!!" I was writhing, wanting desperately to be naked and open. I wanted something between my thighs, something to complete the pattern that I was on. I wanted the sun there, to suck in the warmth of the day and to pull in the strength of him. I wanted to be complete.
He tore at my panties and threw them aside. Now, I was naked. I threw my legs apart and pulled his head down between them. He kissed each of my lips, then blew warm air up along my crack. I felt like I would explode.
"Ooooohh ... please, don't stop!!!"
He licked inside my vagina, pulling the lips apart and opening me to his own mouth and tongue. He must have really strained himself because his tongue seemed to travel further inside me than I would have ever believed possible. Then, he withdrew his mouth and placed his lips just above my crack. He had found my clit.
The feeling I had when he first stabbed at my erect little pearl was incredible. I almost jumped out of my skin. He was holding me from underneath, though, and kept me somewhat in control. Then, my whole body began shaking. I felt this kind of strange tingling emerging from the bottom of my feet and through my arms. I became frightened, it was as though my entire body would be consumed and destroyed by this strange feeling.
"No ... no stop!!!" I cried, trying to pull him away from my cunt. He could tell that I was scared, so he stopped.
"What's wrong?" He asked, his lips moist with the wetness he had received from between my legs.
"I don't know ... just this incredible feeling ... a tingling all over...."
"Relax," he said, "it's just the beginning. You've got to learn to flow with it...."
"But I can't!" I was at that time determined that I would not yield to it, whatever it was. Todd understood this and was very kind about it. He pulled himself away from me and lay down on his back, breathing heavily.
"You'll get used to it, Carol. Want to get dressed?"
Even though he was trying to be nice, I could tell that he was suffering. We had gone pretty far, and he had not found any relief. I felt sorry for him, laying there with his erection and no place to put it.
"No," I answered, "let's stay naked. I like being naked...."
"Do you mind if I asked you to do something?"
"What?"
"This...." And he took my hand and put it on his penis. He wanted me to jack him off, to relieve him of the tension that had built up inside him.
"I don't mind," I said, relieved that there was something I could do to help him. I felt like a bitch stopping when I did.
I pulled on his cock slowly and evenly. It was hot, and the warmth felt kind of reassuring in my hand. Then, I decided that I would do some thing that would really make him feel good.
"Lay back and relax, Todd...." He did. Then, I rested my head on his stomach and directed the tip of his penis towards my mouth. Slowly, I worked the bulb like head around and around near my lips, blowing air onto it and always getting closer.
"Oh yeah, baby, that feels good...."
When I put my lips to the tip, he flinched, so I stopped for a moment before resuming. I opened my mouth then and allowed his penis to enter. It felt larger inside than I thought it would. I sucked on it, drove my tongue around and around the edges and tried to get all of him inside me. It was when his tip reached the back of my throat that I thought I would gag. But instead, I held on and kept sucking.
"I'm cumming ... !" He tried to warn me, but I just planted my mouth with more firmness on him. I felt his entire staff begin to shudder and shake, then the semen came. One spurt after another, the stuff just kept coming. I swallowed as hard and as fast as I could, then the stuff started pouring out from the corners of my mouth.
When he had finished, I licked him off. My tongue went everywhere, as though it had a life of its own. Down the ridge, between his balls, and onto his balls. I took one sac into my mouth, sucked gently on it and dropped it again. He moaned, holding my head gently and running his hands through my long hair.
"That was beautiful, baby ... !!!" Todd leaned up on his elbows and grinned at me.
"I'm glad you liked it...." I was happy that I had pleased him. In that moment, I had learned one of the great lessons of lovemaking. It was as important to please the person you were with as it was to have them please you. Pleasure was a two way street, and when people realized that, they could have more of it and that pleasure would eventually be better.
But the moment for me had not come. Even though I had pleased Todd, I myself had not been able to go all the way. That clutch in my stomach, that fear I had suffered at the hands of the strange sensations throughout my body had left me somewhat empty. While driving through the city of San Francisco, I had asked Todd what could be done about it.
"Go to the institution, Doctor Cromwell knows everything there is to know about therapy. He can help you."
"What about money?"
"Don't worry, Carol ... that can be handled."
So, after spending three days in the city, Todd and I turned around and headed back down towards Santa Barbara. I would join the group at the clinic, and try to complete that cycle that had begun that afternoon out in the grassy field.
The first class that was held by Doctor Cromwell, a middle-aged man with long hair and a great mustache, was a nude therapy session.
"The purpose of us all sitting around naked," the doctor explained, "is to familiarize ourselves with our bodies. These frames of skin and bones are the vehicles of pleasure while we are upon this Earth. It is important that we learn how to use them, learn where the centers of pleasure are located and, last but not least, learn how to be comfortable with them."
There were three boys and two girls in the class. I felt funny when I first entered the small room because everyone had gotten there before me. They were all standing around naked, a little uptight and embarrassed but still at the point that I would have to reach after they had all gotten there first. I stumbled and almost fell as I stepped out of my panties, but once naked felt a little more at ease.
The doctor, too, was nude. I was interested in watching him talk because he didn't even seem to notice that any of us were naked. I couldn't take my eyes off his penis, which was long and thick. When he noticed this, he turned to me and asked me to stand.
"You have a great body, Carol...."
Everyone in the room was looking at me. I sucked in my stomach and threw my shoulders back a little so that my breasts would look bigger. I felt excited when everyone agreed with the doctor.
"Your breasts are finely turned, and your little cunt is exceedingly attractive...." Then the doctor came over and stood right next to me. He pushed his penis up against my leg, and I backed away. "See," he said, turning to the class, "the reaction of one who has learned to fear the touch of human flesh."
Then, he turned me around and placed his hands on my breasts. I felt the tingle of excitement shooting through me, and then felt the warmth begin to grow between my legs.
"There," he said calmly, and I noticed that he had an erection, "the touch is beautiful, isn't it?"
"Y-yyes," I stammered, watching in fascination as his prick rose to the heights, "it is nice...."
"Now touch me...."
While the class watched, he took a step backwards and placed his hands on his hips. His cock stood out straight and pointed right at me. He wanted me to touch it.
"Go ahead, my child, don't be afraid...."
My hands were shaking ... I reached over and touched the tip. A small drop of white semen drooled from his hole, and the cock seemed to rise even stronger.
"Touch all of it...."
His eyes were locked into mine. He was not wavering. His orders were always followed, and he had this way of commanding people to do things. Later I learned that his basic premise of therapy was based on his ability to sound and act in an authoritative manner. In doing this, he was able to substitute his orders for pleasure for the order which his patients had received as children warning them against the joys of the flesh.
When I finally took the full mass of his cock into my hand, the other people applauded. "Very good ... now how does it feel?"
"Hard as a rock!" And everyone laughed.
Then I started jacking him off. This brought a silence to the class. They had expected me to withdraw my hand, having gone this far already. I shocked them all, and felt very daring about it, by stroking him. The doctor stared at me with this strange kind of amazement in his eyes.
"It's alright...." He moaned. But I did not stop. I moved up close to him, and rubbed the tip of his penis up against my crack, all the time pulling on his staff.
He came all over my pubic hair, the white stuff invading my shock of red hair and drooling down between my legs. It felt good, and the doctor had been taken care of.
After that first session, the doctor continued to work with me. He discovered that my strange feelings that drove me away from intercourse were the result of some kind of 'fear induced hysteria'. In other words, the warnings from my father had been so deeply set within me that they emerged whenever my senses overrode my conscious mind. It was like a vicious cycle. I had to be thoroughly conscious in order to make love, but when that consciousness gave way to the subconscious and the pleasures of purely sensual experience, the old teachings would invade my body and result in the panic which I felt. The situation seemed unworkable.
But then something happened which alleviated the problem ... in the most direct manner possible.
When I had first arrived at the clinic, I had sent my father a card telling him that I was alright. In his hysterical manner, he had traced down the origin of the post office mark and finally had landed outside the clinic itself. He felt that I had been kidnapped by some kind of evil force, and that I would be put on the white slave block or something.
He showed up one afternoon near the outer perimeter of the grounds, not being allowed inside because of the strict security measures that were taken. As fate would have it, I was taking a walk through the woods that day and met him face to face near the fence. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending upon how you look at it, I was stark naked.
"Carol!" He shouted when he saw me. "What the Hell are you doing here?"
I tried to cover my breasts and my cunt, but that was impossible. So, in the easiest manner available to me, I struck a pose which I thought would appear natural and unconcerned, "I'm trying to learn how to live, daddy...."
"Live!!! Walking around stark naked!!! Living is discipline, order and routine. That's all living is for!!!"
And then I got angry. I was no longer embarrassed or even uptight about him. I was just plain furious.
"Daddy," I screamed, walking right up to him standing there on the other side of the fence, "living is much more than that. It's pleasure, too. If you don't have one side of it, you really can never have the other side either! All you've ever taught us is deadness ... or how to look like you're dead so that no one will possibly ever suspect you of being alive!!!"
And then he was silent. He looked sadder than I had ever seen him standing there with his old-fashioned crew cut and his white shirt with a string tie. It was a hot day.
"Daddy," I said, reaching through the fence and taking his hand, "take off your tie. It's too hot for a tie...."
Then, to my amazement, he took off his tie. It was like he was allowing me to lead. For the first time in my life, he was listening to me. Then I noticed his eyes on my body. I suddenly felt very sexy because I knew that I was turning him on.
"Daddy, come over to the fence."
"No," he said softly, as though doomed for life to stand on the other side of the fence, "I can't. Never will."
We were holding hands. I let my hand fall to his groin and held his sex. He was erect. "Daddy," I said, massaging his penis, "any man who gets this hard can't be doomed like you like to think you are...."
When he leaped the fence, there was a new vigor in him. He didn't seem like a tired old man anymore, but more like a youthful athlete.
We stood facing each other. The events of the afternoon seemed to take on a programmed sense, as though the script had been written a long time ago and we were both just acting out our parts.
"Just remember daddy," I said as I pulled off his shirt, "that I love you."
He smiled at me. Then, I pulled off his trousers. When he was naked, I held his prick. It was large and hard.
"How long has it been?" I asked, licking his cock and sucking on his balls. "I don't remember...."
"You will this time!"
I took his penis into my mouth and sucked on it. Then I pulled away and lay back on the grass.
I spread my legs, rubbed the hair between them and smiled.
Daddy got down on his knees and put his mouth to me. He licked my crack slowly and firmly, he seemed to know exactly what the pace should be. It was like we were lovers from long ago, recreating the best in lovemaking.
"Oooooh daddy...."
He was becoming savage. His mouth was taking me apart. He knew every spot, was working now without thinking. For the first time in a long time, he was just feeling his way through something.
"Daddy," I cried, pulling his head away from me, "please take me. I'm yours!!!"
He crawled up between my legs. As he pushed his prick between my swollen lips, I cried softly. The pain was at once great and wonderful. When he was finally all the way inside, we began to move with each other with firmness and love.
We both came at the same moment. He slept soundly on top of me, and then rolled over onto the grass.
We didn't speak with each other. Finally, after a long time, he dressed, hopped back over the fence and left. I haven't seen him since.
As I walked back to the clinic, feeling the ache in my loins and the soreness of my vagina, I realized that the hysteria had not come this time. I had cured myself by loving the source of my problem directly. I wondered whether daddy knew that, too.
SUMMARY
This case demonstrates the very common occurrence of sexual hysteria and the roots from which this malady develops. Carol was the victim, but we must never forget that her father was also a victim in much the same way that Carol was.
Sexual repression, and the denial of pleasure of the senses was, to the puritans and others, a way of life. It was first employed by those who felt that survival in the barren wastes of uncivilized countries necessitated the employment of ultimate discipline. With this discipline came the denial of the senses, and the denial of the pleasure principle.
Carol's father employed this systematic denial as a means of controlling in himself that which he feared most-the sexual attraction to his own flesh and blood. In doing so, however, he managed to distort the potential to such action and thus blow the whole situation far out of all proportion.
In this cycle, the stronger his conviction, the more desperate were those feelings developing within the subconscious mind.
Carol, seeing that she had been sexually denied, began a pilgrimage in the hopes of discovering her own sexual potential. Her sexual hysteria was, indeed, the result of tremendous guilt feelings. Secretly, her subconscious mind did realize that her father had been so strict because of his own desire for his two young girls; and because of this realization, Carol felt doubly guilty for denying her father that pleasure of her body, and at the same time for going against his teachings.
In the classical Freudian sense, Carol's resolution came through the act of making love to her own father. In this way, she was able to give him the gist of pleasure and her own virginity and thus allow herself in the future to seek pleasure without that guilt aspect entering the picture. On the other hand, by making love to him, she was also able to involve him directly in 'sin' and thus abolish any guilt feelings she might have had in that direction.
Carol is now a well-adjusted and happy woman. She says that her father has remarried, and is living happily with his new bride. With these people, those natural and very strong feelings were allowed to bloom. And, in doing so, resulted in fulfillment and the ability to become human.