Chapter 1
The first snowfall of the season was coming down in light, feathery flakes. It was a wet snow and wouldn't stick. For that, Mary Jane Farrar was glad. She hated snow. Where she lived, it was warm only about three' months of the year. The isolated village of Bell's Landing was, in reality, a tiny island just off the coast of Maine settled by a small religious sect known as Padramors. Like the Pilgrims and the Puritans, the Padramors had escaped England's religious persecution in the seventeenth century. Like the other religious sects, the Padramors had come to settle in America. They had settled on the island known as Bell's
Landing, named after their leader, Josiah Nell.
Unlike the other religious sects, the Padramors never really flourished. A dozen families had arrived from England in 1667, and at the moment there were only five hundred families on the entire island for a total population of 3,300 men, women, and children.
Suffering and endurance was part of the Padramor religion, all of whom were devout believers in God, following the ways of Abraham's nephew, Lot. But there were other, mysterious ceremonies which Mary Jane did not understand. It would all be made clear to her in less than a month, when she reached her fifteenth birthday.
Mary Jane was a beautiful girl with long, naturally light blond hair. She had glistening brown eyes, a short nose, and a full pair of lips. Her body had the lean litheness of a ballet dancer, with small, firm breasts, a narrow waist, wide hips and a belly as flat as a pane of glass. Her slender, willow-like legs were hidden beneath a maxi-dress. The women of Bell's Landing loved to maintain some sort of style, and the maxi-dress allowed them to cover their ankles without looking old-fashioned. Mary Jane was wearing a yellow dress to match the color of her hair.
Education at Bell's Landing was as modern and up-to-date as anything on the mainland, and Mary Jane was well-advanced in all her subjects. She excelled in English, Hygiene, and Sex Education. Her teacher had often assured her she would have nothing to fear when the time came for her to practice what she learned. It made Mary Jane blush. She was a shy, sweet girl in spite of all she'd learned.
None of the Padramor girls were permitted to date. Having lived her entire life on Bell's Landing, Mary Jane didn't even know such a thing as dating existed. True, electricity existed on the island as a necessity, but there were no TV sets and almost no radios. Whatever radios did exist were kept tuned to the news stations. The only music permitted was religious music.
Wrapped in a blue cloth coat, she was walking home from school with Abigail, her sister, older than she was by a year. As usual, she was pressing Abby, trying to find out what went on each week when she was required to leave the house and attend special worship sessions with other boys and girls her own age, or younger. She knew her grandmother also left and went to visit an uncle of hers at the other end of the island. Her grandmother was in her late fifties and still an unusually attractive woman.
"Come on, Abby," she was saying as they neared their cottage, a white, one-story frame house with aluminum siding all around to help keep out the cold. "What goes on when I go to worship?"
"You'll find out next month," her sister giggled. "And believe me, it'll be a pleasure to have you share the work. Our father is a most demanding man."
"In what way?" Mary Jane wanted to know.
"I can't tell you that," her sister, who had light brown hair, replied. Otherwise Abby and Mary Jane looked very much alike. "But father will be more than overjoyed, himself. After having three sons, he had almost despaired of having more daughters until I arrived, followed by you."
"More daughters? I had no idea father had any daughters other than ourselves," Mary Jane said as they entered the cottage.
"I've already told you too much," Abby told her. "You'll just have to wait, as I did. What may appear to be very unpleasant at first will become the thrill of a lifetime, once you're used to it."
"Abby, what are you talking about? What will seem unpleasant at first? What do you mean by 'the thrill of a lifetime?'"
"Abigail!" The stern voice belonged to Hezekiah Farrar, the girls' strict father. In his middle forties, he was of medium height, with brown hair and graying temples. His body was a little weighty, but under a thin layer of fat was a much heavier layer of muscle from having worked his farm during the four months conducive to planting, sowing, reaping, and harvesting. What he did those four months determined whether or not the family had enough food to carry them through the entire year. During the other eight months he tended the small dairy behind the house, making sure his milk cows were all content and healthy.
"What is it, father?" Abby asked as Hezekiah came into the room.
"I want to talk to you immediately," he informed her. "Hang up your coat and come into my bedroom."
"Immediately, father," Abby said, handing her coat to Mary Jane.
This summons was too much for the blond girl. Her father occasionally lectured her in his bedroom, as well. But when he lectured her, it was always a stern reprimand and lasted no longer than three or four minutes. When Abby was lectured, he took ten to fifteen minutes, sometimes longer. Why was Abby different? Mary Jane wondered.
This was as good a time as any to find out. As a little girl Mary Jane had played in the small attic of the cottage, and she had found cracks in the attic floor which penetrated all the way through the ceiling, below. Had she wanted, she could have spied on her parents anytime they were alone in their bedroom, but she hadn't had the nerve. But now, with her brothers not yet home and her mother in the kitchen preparing a supper that wouldn't be ready for hours, Mary Jane decided to do a little spying.
Hanging up her sister's coat as well as. her own, she went to the back of the house and quietly climbed the small flight of steps leading to the attic. She pushed her way through the trapdoor, closing it behind her, then lay flat on the floor and with a small blanket she had found nearby, kept her dress from getting dirty as she peered through the floorboard at the scene below.
"Sit," her father was saying to Abby, pointing to a vanity stool. He himself sat on the foot of the large double bed, facing her. , "Yes, Father," Abby replied, sitting. She had a worried frown on her face.
"Abigail," Hezekiah went on, his eyes firmly locked on the young girl's rising and falling bosom, "I heard you just now as you came into the house with your sister. Did you tell her anything?"
"Of course not, father," the brunette answered, crossing her legs under her long dress, noting her father was acutely conscious of her movement.
"There is no reason for the secrecy, Abigail. Had you been made aware of everything prior to your fifteenth birthday, you might have run screaming from this very room. You, and all the girls before you, had to be properly prepared, just as Mary Jane will be properly prepared."
"I know, Father," Abby nodded, and Mary Jane silently gasped as she saw her older sister reach from where she was sitting to her father's lap, placing her palm openly against the bulge in her father's crotch. "Believe me," Abby went on, "I've revealed nothing. That's the truth, Father."
Hezekiah Farrar's eyes began losing their harshness as his daughter's fingers slowly rubbed up and down his pillar of prick. It was not surprising to discover the cock was already horn-hard.
"Daddy," she whispered in a little girl voice, making him raise his eyes to look at her youthful, sensuous face with its wide-set brown eyes and full, tantalizing lips. The full lips parted to reveal her perfectly white teeth as she showed him a look that instantly aroused him.
"All right!" Farrar shuddered as his daughter's fingers lightly pinched the solid head of his prick through his pants.
He gasped as her fingers reached for his zipper and began pulling it down. She tugged slowly, maddeningly, causing a heated spasm to lurch through his testicles.
"I would never lie to you, Daddy," she murmured softly, her fingers now slowly tugging his shirt out from his pants.
Mary Jane watched her older sister lean forward and crane her neck, as if overanxious to see the solid member hidden inside their father's trousers.
"I know, Abby," her father replied, almost gutturally.
Once again his eyes were caught by the swell of her full breasts as she leaned toward him. He could see the way the nipples pressed through the bra against the fabric of her dress, tiny little erection aching to be fingered and tongued. He stared at the way they pushed, causing another spasm of boiling oil to splash through his testicles as her fingers tightened their hold on his straining penis.
Abby rubbed his solid cock meat a few times, then very carefully and deliberately released it, behaving as if time were of no importance. Her finger opened her father's belt and undid the hook on his pants. Then she tugged his pants down over his hips, letting them pile up on the floor around his ankles. Then Abby's hands moved to the elastic band on her father's shorts, her fingertips lightly touching his sensitized flesh until she was ultimately able to tug the shorts down, as well. That was when two pairs of eyes, belonging to his daughters, enlarged. Abby's opened with delight, while Mary Jane stared, aghast to see her own father the proud owner of a pudendum of monstrous proportions.
"Dear father," Abby whispered, her fingers lightly teasing the purple-knobbed staff, "the Lord blessed you with a truly marvelous phallus. Each time I see it I adore it all the more."
A shudder traveled through Hezekiah Farrar as his daughter weighed his heavy balls in the palm of her hand, kneeling before him as she did so. Her face came ever closer to his crotch, staring at the ponderous phallus, pointed upward in her direction, almost accusingly. Farrar gasped as Abby used her other hand to stroke and handle the solid cock. It was pulsating strongly, its enlarged dome shining with shimmering lubrication.
Her other hand squeezed his balls a little as she murmured, 'This has been my first prick, and so far, my only prick. And how I love it."
The dreamy quality in her sister's voice was not lost on Mary Jane, who found she could not believe what she was seeing. How could her sister actually be idolizing their father's penis?
She watched her father squirm, barely able to keep himself under any kind of control as Abigail's fingertips tantalizingly fondled the blood-engorged pillar. That, added to the tight grip she had on his balls made him writhe as if in delicious agony.
"You were the first young girl since your mother to suck this marvelous tool," he all but whimpered.
His thighs widened to let her body fit between them all the more easily as his hands reached out to caress and fondle the nipples pressing against her dress.
"Do you really like my breasts so much, Father?" Abby asked.
"You know I do," he muttered. "I want to see them, to feel them, to know they belong to me."
Abby was staring at the swollen bulb of his seething prick, watching a droplet of lubricant ooze from the eyelike hole in the tip. It made her run her tongue over her lips.
The top of her dress had buttons down the front, and Farrar's hands finally undid them. He pulled the top of his daughter's dress down off her shoulders, then reached into her bra and pulled out the two solid hemispheres, his fingers squeezing the meaty mammaries as his palms rubbed against the swollen nipples, feeling how hard and enlarged they were.
"Has mother sucked your penis since I did it the last time?" Abby asked.
"No," her father replied, shaking his head as his palms continued their friction against her nipples.
"A full week?" Abby asked, looking up at her father. "You haven't had this wonderful organ suckled since I did it last, a week ago?"
"A full week," he nodded, quaking.
"Mom doesn't even give it a lick now and again?"
"Your mother's time is now fully taken up with your three brothers. They wear her out."
"But isn't mother your daughter, just like the rest of us?"
"Yes," her father nodded, as her fingers continued massaging his swollen pole. "She was the first issue of your grandmother, my mother, and myself, when I was just about your age. When she grew into womanhood, I had not yet married, and she so loved me after we'd joined, she begged permission to marry me. So we were wed. Now your grandmother no longer looks to me for her pleasure, but to my younger brother, sired by my father, her own father as well, just before he died. And your mother has become enmeshed with the three sons she bore me. Had she not given me you, I would be totally out of my mind."
"Poor daddy," Abby whispered, her eyes still held by the fascinating droplet of lubrication, her voice cracking, betraying her yearning. Her face came closer to his penis as her nostrils flared from the aroma of the delightful muskiness drifting up from between his thighs, overwhelming her with desire.
Before Farrar could say anything more, he saw Abby's coral tongue snap out like that of a frog's, and press against the sensitive underside of his shivering phallus where the mushroom of head was joined to the rest of the staff.
All but screaming, Farrar drove his hips upward, his hands barely unable to hold the wonderful tits he had been caressing. His fingers tightened, squeezing and pressing as he stared into space, thinking of nothing, not daring to think, just hoping and waiting for the tongue to strike again.
It came, licking out slowly this time, remaining pressed against the heated phallic tip as her lips lightly teased the oversensitive tip. Her hand held the stem of the cock straight up so her mouth could more easily reach the tasty bulb of resilient flesh. The tip of her tongue trailed straight down from the sensitive point along the underside until she reached where her fist had it firmly grasped. She watched the sightless eye continue to emit globules of colorless lubricant. The oily substance smeared itself all over the purple dome.
"Come, Daughter," Farrar whispered, attempting to tug Abby to her feet by yanking on her tits, "let's fuck,"
"No, Father," the girl replied, her mouth continuing to nuzzle the swollen cock as one hand still firmly gripped it while the other still milked his balls. "The rules strictly forbid coition other than on the specified days. You know that. But I shall not let you leave here frustrated."
She began licking speedily, her tongue flicking in and out of her mouth, pressing against her father's thick, long wand as it vibrated against her lower lip. It made Farrar release his hold on his daughter's breasts and lie back on his elbows, gazing with rapt attention to the way her lips surrounded the pulsing tip of his strained prick. He sighed with audible pleasure, the sound reaching Mary Jane's ears. The blond girl was totally aghast at all she was seeing and hearing.
To think, she and her sister were the results of the coupling of her father to his sister, who was also his daughter since she was the result of the mating of her father and grandmother. She stared, too fascinated at that moment to be shocked as her father grabbed a handful of her sister's dark tresses and pulled, twisting his fingers in her hair. The steaming knob of his cock was now in Abby's mouth, locked between her kissing lips as her tongue washed it. Abby's head had moved against her father's pelvis as her hand clutching his balls, began squeezing in rhythm. Her eyes were tightly closed and she had to take control of herself or she would have shoved the full length of her father's thick, meaty pole down her throat. Instead, she began a slow, rhythmic, forward and back rocking motion, her warm, full lips sucking the flange of his corona, her mouth easing back and forth over the ridge, making him twitch violently.
The more Farrar tugged on his daughter's long, brown locks, the more certainly she slowed her movements. Her full, solid, firm tits dangled delightfully, and although one hand continued to clutch the girl's hair, the other reached down and grabbed her left breast, pulling strongly on the nipple.
Abby forced her head a little lower now, seeing his balls-a mass of hair and rounded flesh. She could feel the pulsing palpitations on the phallic stem, letting her know her father was nearly at the shooting point. Everything seemed to move with rhythmic precision now, herself more than a little unnerved because of the attention his fingers were giving her nipple. The knob of his prick was pulsating, all set to spurt its heavy wad. She could feel the cylinder of flesh between her lips enlarging even more now. There would be no time to swallow the full length of it. Her lips pressed down hard on the glans, tasting the first shots of his come as it splashed into her mouth. A bit more of his shooting cock slipped past her tightly ringed lips, pulling the flesh taut as her tongue continued pressing and tantalizing the underside.
Farrar wanted the feel of her mouth around the full length of his cock, and caught his daughter off-guard, flexing his hips and shoving the barrel of his weighty cock all the way into her mouth, letting her palate feel the spongy head scrape across its soft surface as more seminal fluid spurted into her gullet. Abby swallowed quickly, the thrilling savoriness of his fluids urging her to pull and suck harder.
She had known when he had been about to come, and she had pursed her lips tightly around the corona at the time in an attempt to delay the spending as her fingers squeezed his nuts very tightly. At first her movements seemed to have had the desired effect, and after a few squirts, his penis, as hard as ever, felt some of the tension ease out of it, despite its now being buried all the way into her mouth; and the squirting stopped. The solidity of the cock didn't weaken. His cock was still as staunch as ever as he rammed it back and forth against the pressure of her tongue, feeling her inner cheeks press against its sides as her mouth alternatively hollowed and bloated.
Both his hands were now entangled tightly in her dark hair, clenched tightly in his balled fists. His glazed eyes were focused on the crack in the ceiling above him, unable to see beyond said crack, and therefore unable to see his young daughter staring down, watching everything, perversely fascinated and repelled at the same time.
His seminal bubbling refused to recede, despite all her pressure on his balls, and though he did his best not to piston his seething cock into her mouth too strongly or too deeply, his daughter's lips and tongue were all part of a well-lubricated fellating machine, doing their job only too well. His testicles were in pain, swollen with seed that should have already been released as they hastened to manufacture even more. He wanted to restrain himself, he wanted to delay the shooting just a little bit longer, and then he surrendered to the most magnificent suction ever felt as his body erupted madly. He put almost all his weight on the palms of his hands as he leaned back and began pumping madly, slamming bis pubis into her face with violent force. His hips twisted and turned in a series of maddening spasms as he blasted away totally beyond any kind of control.
Abby gulped the outpouring sperm as her tongue continued its wanton massage all along the underside of the exploding prick. The smooth pumping of the weighty prong ramming back and forth in her mouth was a delightful sensation to her. She had yet to taste another man's cock, but when the time came, she was certain it would not be nearly the equal of her father's. Maybe it was because she thought of her father as a kind of deity. Perhaps that was why his semen had the taste of nectar, thrilling her as it trickled down her throat.
She sucked and drank as if her very life's sustenance were coming from the deflating flesh cylinder in her mouth. Her mouth pulled every last dribble from within, and the look of disappointment in her eyes, when there was no longer any seed left to drink, was evident. She gripped the shrunken penis with her hand and began licking all around, lapping every last bit of flesh of both his cock and balls.
"Truly, none can do it as expertly as you," Hezekiah Farrar told his daughter, falling back on the bed.
"Only because my father taught me so well," Abby answered, squeezing her father's prong tightly in the hope of pushing out at least one more droplet.
"A man can only teach so much. After that, it's up to the woman to react properly. And you react fantastically."
"Perhaps it's because I love you so much, Father." And she licked the tiny purple dome gently, letting it pop out from between tautened lips, feeling her father tremble as she did so. Then she asked, "Will you fuck me again tonight, when the others have gone to worship?"
Gasping for air, he finally said, "Isn't that the reason for these prayer meetings? In order to continue the Padramors, fathers must fuck daughters, mothers must fuck sons. When the parents become too old, the offspring must then fuck for their own children, begotten by their parents. My mother prefers my brother, and so the only female I had to fuck was the one daughter she had borne me when she had permitted me to fuck her. That daughter became my wife, giving me three sons, your sister, and yourself. Now your mother prefers to sleep with her three sons during the once-a-week pollinating sessions. You, dear Ab by, are all I have. Your sister is too young, and must therefore attend the prayer meetings. But soon she will be old enough to join us, and we shall have some good times together."
"And will you forget me then, father?"
"Never, sweet Abigail. My only worry is, you will shortly conceive and bring forth a son who, on his fifteenth birthday will continue the ritual by fucking his mother. And then I won't have you anymore."
"You will always have me, father. For I adore you. And who knows, but that I might give birth to a daughter, which means she will be more competition for her own mother on her fifteenth birthday."
"You aren't even pregnant yet," her father said, smiling as he sat up. "Come, let us dress and help your mother with the household chores. Your sister is probably in her room preparing for worship tonight."
Mary Jane, who was still staring through the crack in the floor, was stunned. The Padramors were incestuous indulgers.
But of course. Didn't the daughters of Lot seduce their own father so they could become pregnant and conceive. So it was that each succeeding generation continued to fuck their parents as well as their later children. And the founding father of the Padramors, Josiah Bell, claimed to have been a direct descendant of Lot. In fact, his ancestors were said to have come from Spain, and were thrown out during the starting reign of the Inquisition in 1492.
Padramor! In Spanish it could be broken down into two words; Padre-amor. Father-love. The padramors were people who loved their parents in every possible way. No wonder they hadn't multiplied as rapidly as other religious. Children born from incestuous relationships were always physically weaker. They more readily caught sick and died. Only the very strongest of the Padramor children survived. And she, Mary Jane Farrar, was one of those born from the union of a father and daughter.