Chapter 3
MOM STRUCK MY DADDY DEAD
I had gone no further than this when that fateful hour arrived. My cold bitch of a mom, who should have made my wonderful daddy happy, destroyed him ... totally! Forever. Kapute. He died only three days after a few hellish moments.
It was like this. I desperately wanted a ten-speed for my fourteenth birthday, which was only two days away. Mom said absolutely not. When Daddy insisted all the kids had bikes but me, even Margeen, Mom argued that all I did already was hang around with no account boys who were up to no good. She said if I had a bike to follow them off down an alley of crime, she would never be able to keep tabs on me.
Daddy insisted I was just a feisty, fun loving vivacious girl. He told Mom she was a poor example of a mother, to dream up filthy acts in which to implicate her innocent daughter. She slapped Daddy in the face then. He rubbed the spot a minute, then very quietly he looked her straight in the eyes and said: "You have a warped mind because your conscience is so guilty over your being such a wild whore when you were young. Now you are nothing, woman. Nothing at all but one big frigid cunt!"
That night I felt so bad over my mom's refusal to let me have a bike I couldn't sleep, or even lie still and content enough to emerge into my fantasies. So I decided to get up and watch television a while.
My birthday is in August and it was a very sultry summer night. I went into the den in just my short nylon nightie. I closed the door so as not to disturb the rest of the family, especially Mom, who would belt me one in the head with the back of her hand, if she caught me out of bed without her permission.
I found a gothic suspenseful romance on Channel 4. Fully engrossed in the movie, I had temporarily forgotten the bike I wanted so badly. (The reason I needed a bike was that Benny had been trying for the longest time to talk me into riding out to an isolated place he knew in Carbon Canyon. I wasn't allowed to go more than up and down our own block, always with Mom's eyeball peeled right on me. And damn it, I was ready to get fucked!) What I secretly planned to do was agree to go, but only if we took Gil or Tom, or both of them, along.
I felt that if I was going to get one cock, I should have the benefit of others. After all, I liked them all the same and always treated all three guys the same in my jungle home. If I played favorites to begin with, I would have problems of jealousy later. And I had no intentions of giving up any of my fellas.
Every time I thought about the bike, I deliberately focused all of my attention on the movie. I had decided which man the leading lady was going to marry, when the door opened, giving me a terrible start. But it was Daddy, not Mom. He smiled and went to his reclining chair and sat down.
"Come sit on Daddy's lap," he said seriously. I knew he worried about how sad I would be because Mom snuffed the bike. I went to him and climbed on his lap and rested my head on his chest. "You're too late Daddy, the movie is over. But maybe there will be a western you will like," I told him, trying to distract his unhappiness.
Daddy didn't answer, but patted my back slowly and gently. He rubbed my bare skin above my yellow gown. "I will get you a ten-speed Tiger baby," he said, "don't fret. A request for a bike on a fourteenth birthday is a very reasonable request. Margeen had one when she was nine years old. I'm sorry your mother is so hard on you at times. I think for the most part, it is a personality clash. You my little girl, are so vivacious and alive ... and your mother is so cold and bitter ... and very dead." For a minute he stopped talking, then looking very serious he spoke again. "It is mostly my fault," he went on in one of his rare talkative moods. "I had an affair when you were about four years old. Your mother found out and has never forgiven me."
As he talked, he rhythmically swatted me on the butt, as if he had gone back into the past and thought I was still an infant. I giggled and he gave me one good playful slap and said, "you are the only bright light in this dull dead household Tiger."
The slap stung through my thin bikini pants, and by instinctively jumping in reaction to the swat, I moved slightly forward. The night air was sticky and clammy. Daddy was in his pajama bottoms. When I scooted up against him, I could feel the hard round roll already there.
By this age I full well understood he had a hard on. How poor Daddy must suffer living with my cold bitch of a mom. I ran my hand in circles over the soft curls of hair on his bare chest. I felt terribly sorry for Daddy. I loved him with all of my heart. He was a symbol of every thing good in my life. And I hated to always see him sad, and very obviously lonely ... For all that he lived with a wife. "It's okay Daddy. I don't want you to argue with Mom. A dumb old bike isn't worth it."
"You are a much more sensitive girl than your mother understands you to be," Daddy said. And he swatted me again, ever so easily.
"No," I said truthfully, "Mom has her side. Just like she says, I am nice only to boys ... and men," I added, tickling the back of his neck. "I really don't care for females ... or Mom. But I love you," I told him. I sighed contentedly. I was sort of drifting off to sleep as I talked and half in my dream world, I slowly rocked back and forth on Daddy as I had when I was a little girl.
I didn't mean for anything to happen. Not with my daddy. And I will never believe Daddy did either. I think he was carried away beyond reasoning by sheer starvation for sexual fulfillment.
At any rate he moaned desperately and suddenly held me tightly in his arms. The next thing I knew, my vagina hurt horribly, and then after a moment it didn't hurt so badly any more, only a little, because the sudden beautiful throbbing in my pussy felt so good, it drove the pain away.
Daddy had pulled my nylon panties aside, and he had put that big hard cock I knew and trusted so well, straight into me. Not all the way. But enough that I was instantly reassured as to my opinion of why only males had a penis, and girls had the hole into which that rod of joy fit so perfectly.
That's all Daddy did. Truthfully. Tears rolled down his cheeks, and he moaned, more in despair than sexual joy. Daddy was extremely good looking, with a nose like mine, which appeared virile and exciting on a man. His eyes were deep set, under thick, arched brows, and he had an almost but not quite, thin mouth. The look of compassion and despair, intermingled on his face, bewildered me. I only wanted him to be happy. Crooning faintly, I rocked ever so gently and said, "Daddy, don't cry, please don't cry. Someday you will be happy." I had barely begun the sensual movement when Mom opened the door.
Rage twisted her ugly face into contortion. "You filthy Lolita whore! You bastard! You should both be dead!" she screamed.
I don't clearly remember the rest ... only as if in a foggy dream. Daddy's enlarged cock stood straight and naked in the air when Mom jerked me off his lap and threw me halfway across the room where I landed on the floor.
"It isn't Tiger's fault," Daddy pleaded, "she didn't understand what happened. I didn't mean to...."
Mom interrupted him with a scream. "Get out! Leave this house instantly. I would report you to the authorities, but the publicity and gossip would kill little Margeen. You should be dead, you perverted bastard. I will sing songs of glory when you die!"
"I am sorry. Oh, I am so sorry my sweet little girl," he cried out to me as he left the room. But he left.
Mom had her foot on me holding me down. I didn't dare move. I knew that in her present state of mind she might kill me. Or at least beat me to a pulp. And say Daddy did it, to spite us both. When the door slammed behind Daddy I began to sob uncontrollably. I was more frightened in that moment than I had ever been in my life.
I knew he would never be back. I alone would reap the cold, never-yielding punishment Mom felt Daddy and I both deserved. My wailing was for real. She spat on me and scooted her slippered foot down my stomach without lifting it off my body. Then grunting viciously, she planted it right where Daddy had had his great cock. Gritting her teeth and growling like an animal she twisted her foot back and forth three or four times before she walked away, slammed the door, and left me lying there alone.
Three days later, in his cheap motel room, Daddy took an overdose of sleeping pills. He phoned Mom and told her what he'd done. She found him herself. Somehow Mom convinced Dr. Briggs, our family doctor, that Daddy always took too many pills when he got groggy and he put this on his report. Daddy was not listed as a suicide. And the papers didn't mention that he was in a motel. He wasn't important enough to be a news item. So as it turned out, he wasn't listed as a suicide.
If he left me any word, which I'm sure in my heart he did, Mom got a hold of it and destroyed the message. And, as I have already stated, she did not allow me to go to the funeral.
My last moments with Daddy were those few brief minutes, when Daddy held me on his lap, and opened the gateway of life for me.
WHAT YOU WILL BE, YOU ARE NOW BECOMING? SO! What better could a pussy be? Because that is what a woman is. A good hot pussy. Or she is nothing. Tiger puss. That is me. And I am proud.