tagIncest/TabooVirginal Blood

Virginal Blood

bysorggavaasal©

There is a belief in India, even now, among burglars that the possession a cloth stained by virginal blood would help them opening any impossible lock.

*

Beyond the vastness of the harvested fields, on the eastern horizon, appeared stealthily a tint of red arc, but soon expounded itself into a huge orb of bright orange. Birds started testing the melodies of their own voices. The color of the rising sun and the sweetness in the air borne voices implied a fortunate omen.

A jeep approached through the country road, raising dusts.

I was steering my flock through the same country road, on the opposite direction, for grazing. A shepherdess I was. The jeep slowed down and halted, with its engine idling. Only a tight space was left between the jeep and the edge of the road. So narrow was the road. Through that tight space all my sheep passed on to the other side, but I slipped. And there started down a deep slope from where I slipped. A strong arm scooped me up. I was stunned not by the shock of my near slip but by the handsomeness of a young man, face to face. The driver of the jeep.

He was in a sleeveless shirt. My thin torso was in the crease of his muscled arm. With his arm around, my heart started throbbing like his idling engine. I blushed. He lowered me to the ground and said, "Paappaa, paarththup poa (little girl, go carefully)"

His tone was obviously kind, but I got annoyed. I was not a little girl. I had attained my puberty. I was 18 years old and even voted in that year's general election. It was all the fault of my parents. They didn't celebrate my puberty function. The girl, when her first menstrual blood appeared, would be kept aside for a month in a fresh palm-leave hut, made by her maaman (mother's brother), and fed with sweetmeat and nourishing food to develop her boobs like tender coconuts, buttocks like watermelons, thighs like banana trunks and vulva like a buttered bun. And at the end of the month, the whole village and all other relatives and friends of other places would be invited for her 'pooppunitha neeraattu vizha (flower's sacred bathing festival)'. Thus it would be made known to the whole world that the girl is ready to have a mate.

My parents didn't perform all those nice things on me, because they were poor. And I remained literally a little girl to the outer world. And now this stupid driver also ignored me on that line. He moved away his jeep without even caring to know my feelings. Bitter tears, out of frustration, rolled down my cheeks.

One must get attention, after all. Without due recognition, one would be worth nothing but a dead person. I longed to get some attention.

* * *

Grazing my flock through the harvested fields, I reached the riverbank by noon. My sheep eagerly ran down toward the stream and quenched their thirst. There was a grand banyan tree on the bank of the river. It was its fruiting season. Lot of birds flocked the tree in incessant chattering. I gathered my sheep under the cool shade of that tree.

Leaving them there I went back to the stream. I stripped myself naked. It was not my wont to take bath naked in public places, but on that day I didn't care. I wanted to show whatever I had to whoever happened to come that way. But the sure thing was that nobody would come that way, by that time, but for my mother carrying my midday gruel.

I surveyed my nakedness. Small breasts, each in two steps: the base was of the size of a halved komettik kaai (a bitter fruit) and another step of the size of a small halved lemon, topped with a pepper size nipple. My cunt was a narrow triangle, barely covered with a soft moss of pale hairs and the cleft started well up on the little mound, presenting the shiny lips exposed.

I dived into the water and swam awhile enjoying my arrogance in presenting my nakedness to the open world.

Getting out, I dried and dressed myself with the same dress in an unhurried manner. Soon as I completed my clothing, suddenly from nowhere, my father appeared with my midday gruel can. I was surprised.

Ancestors of my father were well to do, I was told. Only my father made our life miserable because of his laziness. He was a thief indeed. Half of his life spent in lock-ups and prisons. When he was out, he would dress in spotless white and white and spend in excess. My father and me, we don't talk much.

"Your mom's not fit, so I brought you the gruel." He explained. I took the container and emptied it in silence. Meantime my father spread his whitish towel on the ground, lay down and started sleeping. That was typically my father: no work; no worries. I washed the container and then settled on the shade, turning my back to my father. By then I observed a disturbance in the flock. A ram started chasing a ewe, babbling.

I had seen those things earlier, but on that particular day it was too much for me to cope with. I turned behind and observed my father. With a forearm over his eyes, he was fast asleep. His chest's raising and falling was slow. I pulled my skirt up and put my hand in between my thighs. I pressed my middle finger into the folds of my cunt. Immediately it was bathed by my cunt juices. I tried to insert the finger into my slot, but it was not going. There was an obstruction. Where from the juices comes out then? I tried with my little finger. Ah, it could find the way!

I perspired and sighed while my little finger was moving fervently in and out of my lava hole. Then there...oh...I shivered. Something was moving up my legs. I had completely forgotten the presence of my father. It was his hand. I stilled in shock.

My father was fumbling up my thighs. I couldn't decide what to do. Before I decided, his thick fingers were at the lips of my cunt. My thighs opened up a little to give him access. I was shell shocked to realize my reflex. Immediately I closed my thighs. His fingers got entrapped in between. He didn't give up. He teased the wet lips of my cunt with his fingertips. I couldn't bear with the sensation. Eventually I gave up my resistance. He tumbled me backward, over him, and ran another hand over my breasts. My breasts were soft a while ago, but now under the touch of his hands they became taut.

My father got up and lifted me up on his arms and carried me into the sheep. He made some space among the sheep and laid me there on his white towel. The surrounding sheep got up on their fours and made a cover. My father unhooked my blouse and exposed my breasts. He cupped them in his big hands and started kneading. My body heated up and I arched myself into his hands. While kneading one he sucked the other. He took an entire breast into his mouth. I drifted up. I was no more a little girl. I felt like a big woman.

My father moved his free hand down and pulled away my skirt. Then he cupped my cunt and rubbed it with his palm. Heat emanated from my pleasure mall, scorching his palm and, at the same time, soothing with its juices. With half closed eyes I was pushing up my cunt against his rubbing palm. He tried to poke in a finger, but could not. He trailed down. His mouth replaced his hand at my cunt. Oh, God! I opened wide my thighs and raised my hips. His soft tongue was ploughing through the seams of my cunt lips. He slurped and nibbled at my clit. I became mad. Thrusting my cunt at his face I pulled out his hairs. Raising me thus to a fever pitch, he passed on to...

...the next phase. He removed his dhoti and underwear. His huge cock was standing in attention. It was as thick and long as a firewood log. I had never imagined a male organ would be so big. A fear came over me. And a fascination too. Moreover I was eager to experience. So I drooled in expectation. He hovered over me. I opened up for him. He placed the big mushroom head of his cock at my little gate. The head nuzzled against my wetness. Its shear heat and contact made me insane. I rubbed my cunt against it. He forced it at my entrance. Only a big NO. His cock is not my little finger. He backed off, but I became restless. Madly I wanted him in. He spat on his palm and oiled his cock-tip with it. So he hadn't given up. He held my buttocks, lifted my hips and spat into my cunt hole too. Then, squatting, he raised my legs and placed them on his shoulders. Taking his hands around my thighs and under my armpits, he held me by my shoulders and locked me up, his cock-tip being already at its target.

There descended an uneasy calmness in the air. The birds stopped their chattering. The sheep, on their feet, looked at us quizzically. A lone cloud stood still above the motionless tree head.

Then it happened. A fierce spear pierced into me. A long wailing broke out of me. The sheep fled in terror. The birds took to their wings so noisily. The tree-head swayed violently as if in a storm.

Very sharp pain it was. I tried to wriggle out, but his arm-prick-lock was solid. "Vidungappaa enne vitrungappaa (leave me, dad, please let me go)," I begged him in tears, but the bastard thief was not in a mood to heed. "Inthaa avvalavuthaan, ippo aayidum (that's all, it'll be over now)" was his answer. Mercilessly, he started moving his monster in and out. I had no other choice than crying silently.

A few minutes after I felt better, but then the monster spewed lava in my depth. He unlocked his grip and lowered my legs. His big thing slipped out. I got up on my shaking legs. Then I noticed it: a large wet red spot on the whitish towel. My virginal blood.

Allowing me to take rest, my father drove out the flock for afternoon grazing. The pain was subsided soon and I felt somewhat relieved. Whatever happened was a dream, I thought, or nightmare?

In the twilight, my father returned with the flock and I followed him homeward.

* * *

For the next few days we didn't share a single word. And one night I waked up to notice the back door of our house creaked and my father slipping out. I got up immediately and followed him. By that time he was away by a good distance. Our house was on the periphery of our village. He was walking through the fields. The moon was up. I hurried in a short run and got up with him.

"Where are you going?" I stopped him.

He didn't answer. He was carrying a bag tugged in his armpit. I pulled at his bag and its content slipped out. I was horrified. The towel, soaked with my virginal blood!

"What are you planning to do? What is this for?" I wanted to know.

He hesitated, but at the same time he might have realized that I wouldn't leave him without getting an answer. He said, "Virgin's blood will open any impossible lock." I was stunned. "So you are going back to burglary?" I said with bitterness, "And only for that purpose you spilled my blood?"

"No, no, not like that. You were on heat on that day and I lost my head, but I love you, baby."

"Then, why are you running away?"

"You are angry with me. You don't speak a word. So I decided..."

"I am not angry with you." I snapped, but stood in silence for a few blinking and said, "Come back."

He picked up the towel and put it back into the bag. Then he faced me. I was waiting. Before I knew what was coming up, a weakness crept on to my legs. My dad took me into his embrace and I yielded. I felt his hardness hitting against my abdomen.

There the ground was plain and soft. And we were in a safe distance for any soul to observe. He lowered me on my back. I raised my legs and spread them to receive him. My skirt slipped down to expose my lair. He removed his dhoti, folded and placed it aside. His shirt and underwear followed. Naked, he laid himself in between my slender legs. With one hand he positioned hid cock-head right onto my orifice. Previous painful experience hovered over me as a thin cloud. But when my dad exerted pressure, aha, I felt to my pleasure that my cunt was invaded by his shaft in utter delight. There was not even a trace of pain.

Once buried his cock to the hilt, my dad pulled it out and pumped in again. I floated into heaven. He opened my blouse and squeezed my breasts. In and out, in and out, his piston churned my sheath. Beneath, I raised my hips and received him deep. Exhilarated by his every thrust, I sprung up in tune. Time lapsed. My sweet dad, pumping hard, put his mouth on mine and chewed at my lips. At that instant a tremor shook and my inner weir broke. It was so beautiful! Wonderful! Unparallel! At once, my daddy increased his pumping speed and stumbled. Deep in I felt a rush of warm liquid. He collapsed on me. I wrapped him with my legs and arms. And we remained like that for quite some time.

* * *

After that, my father was a reformed man. He gave up burglary. My mother was a happy and relieved woman. She showered praise on me for the change of behavior in my father. My father and I, we took utmost care not to disturb my mother's make belief. But we went together for grazing the herd and engaged frequently in out-door shootings.

On course, my father narrated me all his stories. His prison scenes were very erotic. There was a young boy called Sahul, who was also a thief and a frequent inmate of the jail. Every senior prisoner was fond of him. Sodomy was an accepted common practice. And Sahul was so accommodative. He was in love with my father and mad after my dad's big thing, it seemed. He used to call my dad 'maamaa' and loved to take the big thing in his mouth too, a privilege he never entertained with others.

From the frequent narrations of Sahul's episodes, I picked up the point that my father was fond of blowjobs. One day, under the same banyan tree, where I was deflowered, I decided to try him in my mouth. He was narrating some old incident. I was listening to him, lying on my back, using his lap as my pillow. Then I rolled on my side to face his stomach. I threw my hand under his dhoti and pulled out his cock. It jumped in my hand like a live 'varaal' fish. Grabbing it at the base I peeled down its foreskin. The head was gleaming with a dewdrop seeped up of its small slit. I put out my tongue and licked it.

My father patted my cheek and asked, "What are you doing?"

"This" I answered and caught his cock-head with my mouth in one gulp.

"Oh, my God!" he shivered. "I can't believe this, ah my baby!"

I raised myself on my elbows and adjusted my position, sliding my mouth up and down. He stroked my ears and moaned, "Superaa irukku paappaa, aanaa pallup padaame... (Wonderful, baby, but see that your teeth do not scratch)."

I pulled in my teeth, wrapped him in my lips and bobbed. "That's it, baby, you've learned. And the pressure in your lips, oh God, you are better than that devil boy Sahul."

That was my tonic, the recognition and appreciation. I got heady. I sucked in more of his cock and exerted pressure with my lips and tongue. With one hand, gently, I squeezed his testicles. That's all. A shiver ran through and tightened his body. Next moment his hot lava spurted out and hit at the back of my throat. I got choked and I backed up hurriedly. His cock slipped out of my mouth. I coughed and coughed. His cock-head directed its jets allover my face. When his eruption subsided, he laughed at my condition. But I got up merrily and went into the river to wash my face. On the way down I tasted his come. It was a bit salty and smelling meaty.

As the days rolled, my father taught me all the variations in the art of love making. I applied them back on him, repeatedly, and mastered the art to marshal a man to pleasure peaks.

* * *

In the meantime my father concentrated on our occupation too and our flock started multiplying. In three years time we became rich. Three years passed just like that! In sexual bliss, time is a forgotten factor. By that time, happiness and good food infused voluptuousness in me. My breasts developed like tender coconuts, buttocks like watermelons, thighs like banana trunks and vulva like buttered bun.

Lot of parents started approaching my parents to marry me to one of their sons. My father was also inclined, but I was not interested. I knew all those boys. Till the day before, they didn't even wink an eye on my direction and today they are in queue. Moreover I didn't find any reason to desert my dad, who is sporting with my cunt regularly. But by persuasions my father did eventually show me the reasons. I agreed to marry a rich and handsome boy from a nearby village.

The day of my marriage was a fateful day. On that day so many unexpected events happened. A series of theft took place in and around our area and the police had no clue. My father was taken to custody on suspicion. That caused a serious set back to my marriage plan. The groom side refused to take in a daughter of a thief as their daughter-in-law. I didn't care, but I was upset by the arrest of my father, who was no more a thief. I decided to fight for my father.

Local police station was in the nearby town. Even without informing my mother (who would not allow me to go) I went to the police station. It had become dark by the time I reached the town. At that time, in the station, there were only two police constables and no officers. The constables allowed me to meet my father. He was behind the bars of the lock-up.

My father was not pleased with my arrival. He urged me, in a hushed voice, to vacate that place immediately. He said, police stations were not safe for women and more so for young girls. He was afraid that I would be sexually molested. To leave him in peace, I left immediately, but I decided to see it to the end. I got the house address of the officer-in-charge from one of the constables, a kind elderly man. On the way, there was a drizzle and I got drenched a bit. I didn't bother.

When I knocked at the door, it was opened by a handsome young man. I recognized him immediately. The jeep driver, whom I met on the village road three years back. He looked at me as if a country brute looking at a sweet stall. My dress was wet and clinging to my prosperities. I told him that I came to meet the sub inspector of police. He said that he himself was the SI and invited me to step in. I entered his house. He bolted the door. Before I open my mouth to present my case, he assured me that my father would be released if I behaved nice. So the old constable had updated him of my arrival. Pimp. I perceived no way out. After all my father was right, police people were not safe for womenfolk. If I was going to be molested, I thought, better use it for my advantage.

I gave in to his desire. When I presented him my nakedness, he was doped. He dialed the police station and gave order to release my father, even before he touched me. But I stopped him, explaining that I should be at my home before the arrival of my father. He understood and modified his order to release my father the next day morning.

The SI was a young man of solid body. His weapon was also of good shape. He had removed his pubic hairs and hence his tool looked nice and mouth-watering. In contrast, my cunt was completely covered with dense black hairs. He moved his fingers into my forest and complained. I didn't know what to answer. He wanted to know whether I would allow him to remove it. I was fascinated by his idea and said yes.

He led me into the bathroom and switched on the lights. He applied some lather on my hairy cunt, took his safety razor, knelt in front and started shaving. The act of getting shaved there under was an exiting process and I had never even self-shaved before. My cunt was on flames and oozing already. When he completed his task, my cunt looked as smooth as of a baby.

He led me back to bedroom and laid me on my back, crosswise on his cot. My buttocks being rested at the edge and my legs touching the floor, my position was vulnerable. He squatted in between my thighs and feasted on my shaved pussy. It was already melting. He appeared to be a connoisseur in cunt-licking. Within minutes my abdomen started convulsing and I released a heavy load to feed his mouth.

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