Forced by My Long-Lost Father


"You feel his finger begin to probe your butt-hole, but you don't say no.

"First one finger, then two, then three.

"His hand slips under you and you raise your hips a little and you open your thighs for his hand."

I watch as she reaches down under my belly and feel her touch me. My father's penis is all the way inside me. I spread my knees out on the cushion as much as I could so that she can touch me more easily, and my father spreads his knees too, which are on the outside of mine, so that I can open my own. Her hand goes right between my legs, on that spot again.

She continues her dirty little story, "You feel him climb on top of you. You want to say no, but somehow you just can't. You think, oh, no, please don't, but you don't say it.

"You feel his penis slowly penetrate your butt."

My father has started to fuck my ass and my cousin starts rubbing my clitoris.

I moan. It is so strange, so weird, so intense. My clitoris feels like it is on fire and my rectum feels so warm.

I beg him, beg my own rapist racist father, "Please, don't stop, please, don't stop, please, don't stop!" It feels incredible. I mean every word.

I say, "Oh, that's so good, oh, that's so good, oh, please, don't stop."

I had begged him not to rape me but ended up begging him not to stop buggering me.

I cum and cum and cum. I am thrusting my hips back as hard as I can and I know that my tough, sinewy father is sodomizing me as hard as he can.

My father says, "I'm going to cum!"

I feel him spurt inside my rectum, feel his penis throb inside me.

I cum when he does it.

He keeps fucking my butt, only more slowly, for another few minutes while my cousin slowly rubs my clitoris.

He pulls out of me and goes out, naked, into another room to wash up, not bothering to cover himself.

Darleen asks me to lick her. "I know you've never done it before, but I really really need it, and if you don't want to, I'll understand."

I thought, "What the heck. At least she asked." I had her close the door again.

She tells me what to do, how to lick her, to go slow, to go easy, to finger her and to lick her labia or her clitoris. My father walks in, naked from the waist down, and watches us. Right then, I don't care that he hasn't closed the door.

When she comes I feel joy at having pleased her.

My father's penis is half hard, and he tells me to take it in my mouth, to kiss it, to suck it.

I think about the fact that it had been up my butt a few minutes before, thinks about the fact that half of what I am came spurting out of his penis before I was born.

I take my own father's penis in my mouth and suck and kiss it. He doesn't get much harder, but he seemed to enjoy it. After a while my mouth gets tired, so Darleen and I start switching back and forth, me sucking his penis for a while and then her.

Darleen tells me, while I am sucking him, that she's never been with another man or boy, but that sometimes she and my dad would go to the mall or somewhere else and pick up other girls, "to play with." She said that she didn't want me to think her a slut for being her own uncle's girlfriend either. It was just something that had happened.

My dad gets dressed and lets me get dressed. Darleen watches us dress, but remains naked. Then she puts on her panties. She puts the rubber penis back in the drawer of the coffee table without bothering to wash it.

He says he'll give me a ride home.

Darleen and I put the couch back together and push the rattan coffee table back in place. She covers up again with the dirty blanket and asks me to flip the switch on the wall to turn the TV back on.

Just before my dad and me left the room, she tells me that if I go to the police that she'd certainly be arrested too, that she had raped me, too, every bit as much as my father had.

But the fact was I was too ashamed to tell anyone, just like my mother had said that she had felt.

When we go out the front door my mother's car is parked across the street. I walk over to her. My mother is crying. She doesn't even see my father.

She drives me home. I thinks about telling her that I know that she is a liar and that she had been a slut when she was my age, that I'd seen the photo, seen the proof. But I don't.

My mom and I start to argue again, our same old arguments. She didn't even ask about what had happened to me in the house, what I had seen or heard from the people, my own family, my father's side of my family, in the house.

But she does tell me never to go back to my father's house.

I am angry, but I got angrier. I am proud and stiff-necked, like the Bible says the Israelites were. I tell my mother that he is my father and that I am 18 now, an adult, and that I'll visit him as often as I want. The more she said no, said that I couldn't, said that I shouldn't, the more she told me what an evil and vile man he was, the more determined I became to visit him often, just to spite her, to visit him as often as it took to show my mother that my father was a good man, to show her that he loved me and wanted me in his life just like other fathers wanted their daughters in their lives.

Besides, he had said that she had visited her every day after school. Why shouldn't I do the same?

But I am going to be smarter than my mother. I go to the clinic the next day and they put these things, these little thin tubes, in my arm, Norplant, so that I wouldn't get pregnant. They said that I didn't need to worry about any of that for another five years.

The very next day after that I go back to my father's house, ride the bus to his street, having told my mother that morning that I was going.

I can see how much it drives my mother crazy, and I love that it does.

I even invite my cousin to our house for the weekend and brought her to our church and introduced her to everyone as my cousin. At night we lay naked in bed laughing and sucking each other's breasts and fingering and licking each other. My mom's room -- she doesn't share a room with my stepfather -- is close enough so that she could hear us laughing and giggling.

When I go over to their house, I let them do whatever they want to me and I do whatever they say. I don't mind. We even go to the mall, my cousin and me, to find girls for us to play with, usually with my father, but sometimes just us girls.

It's a small price to pay to show my mother. You know, sometimes you really do have to cut off your nose to spite your face.


Anekri was a great help in editing this story and I am very grateful to her for it. I made some changes after she edited it, including changing some things back to how they had been, so any mistakes are mine alone.

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byUncleMichael© 7 comments/ 192016 views/ 98 favorites
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