Insider Knowledge

Suddenly the long distance shots disappeared and her sister was close up, her full lips open and tongue curled. Her eyes were staring up at Sara, full of desire and wanton lust. In the next image her tongue traced the tip of a large penis. The next showed her taking it into her throat. After several of her giving oral there was one final image and it shook Sara to the core.

Anna's arm was outstretched in the foreground of the image and part of her palm visible. Her face was turned towards the camera with a victorious smile and her head tilted back to accommodate for the man atop her. Anna's naked breast was crushed by his face and her nipple pulled tight between his teeth.

Sobbing, she tore at the image, her father's face blurring and stretching beneath the onslaught of her revulsion and outrage. Her sister's nakedness became a blur of pink hues as Sara gagged back her urge to vomit.

She flung herself backwards, incapable of seeking comfort from any source, her arms encircling her pillow and her tears flooding its cotton casing.

Sara would cry for what seemed like hours, too many thoughts and too many offenses bubbling up from each new analysis of what she had seen. What had happened? Had they done this before? What was the result? What really happened that day?

Sometime later she would fall asleep.

When she awoke, it was pitch black out and her alarm clock glowed with the date and time. Eleven fifty nine in the evening. The date stuck with her though. October thirty first, two thousand and five. The date was wrong, it had to be wrong. That was the year before... the year that...

Her senses suddenly went on high alert as she felt someone's eyes on her. Sara tried to twist, to run, but her body would go no where. Slowly it rolled and a single leg willed itself out from beneath the covers.

A voice that was not her own, that did not do her bidding, queried into the darkness. "Like what you see?"

The response from her nightmares stunned her. "Yes, actually."

Once more she tried to command herself to move, to shrink to flee. And still nothing obeyed. What was going on?!

Her father stepped into the room, his distinctive silhouette filling her vision. Sara's mind worked on overload, trying to figure out what was wrong, trying to end the dream. He was in a tank top and shorts, a bottle of beer lazily couched in his palm. Sara's eyes were forced down by the unseen controller of this nightmare. They focused on the cylindrical outline in his shorts. He was hard.

She wanted to vomit, to decry his debauchery, but she found her hand pulling back her sheets, revealing another naked thigh. Sara recognized the t-shirt as her favorite, as the one she always wore to bed when she lived at home. But it had not been in the nightstand when she had searched the room that day. She was wearing it now? How was it possible?!

Sara's nightmare would only worsen. Her hands began to dance at the hemline of the shirt, pulling it back to reveal a small trimmed path of hair that led to an engorged labia. Sara was more confused then ever. She knew she shaved her pubic hair that way. Was this her? Was she putting herself in this situation?

Her unresponsive left hand moved between the thighs and began to gently stroke over the pink folds.

"Do you like my pussy, Daddy," she heard the voice asked. There was a curious huskiness to it, a forced sound almost.

"I love your pussy Sara," came his growled reply as he moved farther into the room, closer to her.

Sara was screaming with all her might and trembling and shuddering and trying to resist her body's action. But to no avail.

Two of her fingers split her pussy lips and the other hand began to stroke up and down between them. It drew moisture from her depths and smeared it over the smooth soft skin that spent most of its life tucked away between her thighs. When one finger brushed her clit, Sara became suddenly aware of the pleasure that she was feeling. A fire that she had not recognized roared through her terrorized psyche.

This seemed to encourage the puppet master manipulating her strings and the finger returned again and again to the sensitive nub. She heard the voice (her voice?) gently panting encouragement to her father.

"Touch me, Daddy. I'm so wet for you. All for you Daddy."

"I always loved you the most, Sara," he muttered as he towered over her prone form. His free hand reached forward and brushed a stray hair from her face, as she continued her graphic display.

"Love me, Daddy, love me," Sara heard her voice whine. Her hips bucked from the bed, thrusting her pussy into the air. It was a slutty display and Sara found herself becoming revolted by the mind that governed it.

A clank on her bed table notified her that the beer had been discarded. The moisture covered hand of her father descended over the fingers plunging into her pussy.

"Oh, Sara," he whispered as his hand cupped her mons. Sara found that one of her hands abandoned its place over her twat and moved instead to her father's chest. There it found a heavily pounding heart, driving away within his thickly muscled form.

Please no, she whispered to no one in particular. A single digit of her father's hand slowly probed downward, digging into the humid tunnel of her cunt. Sara's mind allowed momentarily for the acceptance of the pleasure that it brought her. She tried to force the thought away, but the gap had been opened and her weakness exposed.

Deeper and deeper the finger dug, pushing away her desire to fight against the sexual depravity that had been forced upon her. And finally, reaching its peak, the finger slid backward, only to return again a second later. At first the thrust was slow and gentle but as her voice panted out more and more disgusting desires it sped up, racing until Sara could here the puddle between her thighs splash with excitement.

She could feel an orgasm coming on, slowly rising like the inevitable crest of the tide. She fought it, screaming her last exhausted resistance, but being rewarded only by the cascade of bliss and euphoria that raced through her.

"Oh, fuck," she cried and for the first time the body she was trapped within responded. It tensed and screamed to her command and writhed beneath the drumming digit. "Fuck me, Daddy," Sara begged, knowing full well that it was a surrender. Eagerly her hands dug at the waist band of his shorts prying free the large cock she had seen fill her sister's mouth in Polaroid photos a year in the future.

Her dainty hands embraced the cock in a double fisted hug and began to pump over its length, her mouth watering at the sight. Sara demanded that her body curl towards it and obediently it did. Her lips drew closer and closer and her sanity gave way to lust.

Her mouth sucked the penis deep into its recesses her hair falling forward over her face only to be gathered up by one strong foreign hand as she tried to take its full length into her orifice. Up and down she bobbed, her tongue slipping across the underside of the penis and her mouth filling with the delicious saltiness of human sweat.

She mumbled her thanks and her desire into the cock, as if it would listen and was rewarded each time by a twitching thrust into her mouth.

Someplace outside of her, she heard her father repeat over and over again.

"Beautiful Sara, sweet beautiful Sara, I've loved you the most. Beautiful Sara, sweet beautiful Sara, I've always loved you the most."

She tried to ignore the chant and focus on her desire but there was a perversion to its caress and she felt her mind rebel once more from the body it occupied. Once more she was cast off from control and found herself a watcher who felt only the pleasure of the encounter. Soon the taste of precum filled her mouth and she somehow knew that her father was close.

The controller, whomever it was, withdrew quickly from the blowjob and spun on the bed. Now her pussy was pointed straight towards her father and waiting for his taking.

Sara watched in corrupt fascination as her hands pulled back her long slender thighs and made available maximum penetration. A wild look in her father's eye marked the beginning of his onslaught. He rose quickly and disrobed, tossing his clothing away from him. His cock rose above her a daunting form.

The sounds coming from within her were guttural, instinctive. They would be recognized the world over, regardless of culture or of era. It was purely sexual and purely animalistic.

They would only increase in cacophony as the large purple helmet of the penis angled down towards her vagina. She watched it, hypnotized as the penis slid slowly into her tunnel. Sara felt the pressure of desire begin to build once more and the vacuum that had drawn her through the fabric of reality operate once more. As inch after inch of warm flesh penetrated her, Sara found her lust for it consume her.

"Oh shit," her voice broke through once more.

Sara felt her hips twitch in their tightly pulled position as her father's weight came to rest atop her. "Nooo," she squealed as the long dick pushed up against her cervix. It was a weak and largely symbolic plea. Her father responded with a quick thrust and her voice fell silent again.

His hands encircled her ankles and he bent her farther over backwards, lifting her supple ass into the air as he begin a slowly steady pump. His shaft pressed against the top of her channel as it slid in and out of her.

Small little slurps and splashes were the only noise that escaped the merging of the two bodies. They would increase in frequency as Sara's father began to increase the rhythm of their fucking. Sara's will quickly crumbled beneath the onslaught of sex.

"Do I make you feel good, Sara?" Her father's voice was hoarse and tense- his focus on the tight pussy that clenched across his surface. It was his life's great fantasy fulfilled.

"Yes, Daddy," she heard her voice quiver. "More, please, more!"

Back and forth, back and forth, his hips rocked, pumping more and more of his penis into her. She could feel the heavy weight of his sack slap against the tightly stretched skin of her backside as he pounded her.

"More, oh god, more," she cried. Her voice rose to a higher pitch as her body strained to meet its many demands.

Looking down between her spread thighs she could see his thick hatch of hair, a dark contrast to her nearly bare cunt. She could feel the fluids of their sex spilling out of her, dripping down her stomach, slipping into her backside.

"Fuck me, please Daddy. Fuck me. Cum in me," she begged.

"Yes, baby, I will. You will be mine forever."

Over and over again her filled her until with a loud roar she felt a rolling spasm fill her twat as his semen erupted into her womb.

"Oh God, yes......" her air leaked out of her quickly as her body succumbed to pleasure. Her womb and tunnel filled with a deep heat that set her body aglow. That burning fire would set her over the edge and she too would match his orgasm stride for stride.

Their bodies quaked together for a few moments, until a shriek erupted from behind them.

"You bastard!"

It was followed by a rush of footsteps down the hallway. Sara felt the body atop her tense and her father's eyes seemed to glow in the darkness. "I'll take care of this baby. Don't you worry." And as quickly as he had been there, he was gone again.

Sara slowly felt her control recede as the orgasm faded. Soon sounds of shouting and loud crashes echoed down the hallway and throughout the home. Sara, along with the bodies controller, felt an urge to discover.

Things suddenly began to come clear for Sara. As her body tiptoed down the dark hallway to the glowing cut out of her parent's bedroom door, she understood what had happened. At least part of it.

"You bitch! You dare take that away from," suddenly tore from the darkness and Sara froze.

"You raped her, you raped Anna. You're fucking screwed. I'll have you arrested," came the shrieking response of Sara's mother. "She's only eighteen," came a sobbing cry.

Sara looked down her body and realized that there were subtle differences to it then her own. She was inside Anna. Anna had been pretending to be her- dressing up like her, fulfilling a desire of her own by manipulating their father.

The feelings of repressed disgust roared back at this realization. As they moved in the shared body into the doorway she witnessed what she had long dreaded.

Her naked father's backside was turned towards her, his shoulders tense and body braced. Sara's mother's eyes were wide with terror and her face slowly turning purple.

"No," heard her sister gasp. "No, Daddy, no!"

Her father's burning eyes turned towards her. "You," he yelled, half in surprise and half in anger. He shook the small frame of Sara's mother's body, as her last signals of life faded. As he turned back on her, he slammed the dying woman against the wall once more. "You," he repeated.

Sara was filled with panic for her sister, and terrorized remorse for her mother.

The girl fled to the bathroom, slamming and locking the door, hiding. It did not take long for the heavy footfalls of her father to tell her that she was in danger. A heavy thud rang out in the small tiled room.

Anna turned and looked into the mirror, her eyes filling with a knowledge that it had not yet grasped.

"Help me, Sara. Please....."

Sara suddenly saw herself in the mirror- her real self, not her sister's impersonation.

"I can't don anything sissy, I'm not really here."

"You have to," Anna shrieked. "You got everything! He loved you more, he wanted you! Said you were more beautiful! You always were his favorite! Help meeee!!!!!" Her scream echoed through the room as her face turned red and droplets of water poured from her eyes.

"I can't sissy, I can't. Its not real. Its not real," she repeated.

That was when the door flew open beneath the assault of her father. His massive muscular frame eclipsed the doorway, sealing of her route of escape. Anna shrunk away from her father, sliding her naked bottom across the floor and leaving a trail of guilty fluid on the tile. His hands clenched and unclenched terrifyingly.

"No, Daddy, please, no."

"You tricked me, you whore. You tricked me! You lying slut!" With his last roar he descended on her. His fist raised only to come flying back down. Sara could only watch through her sister's eyes as blow after blow pounded into her smaller frame. Then his hands found her throat and the two meaty gloves encircled her neck entirely.

As Anna's life faded away, Sara forced herself into the mind, trying to take control in a desperate attempt to change her past.

"Daddy, no," her voice came through haltingly. But his hands did not release their hold even though his eyes softened. "Please Daddy, for me, for Sara," she begged. And then Sara felt death take over and her mind went to black. The last image she had was of a tear forming in her father's eye.

October 30th, 2007:

Sara snuggled into the crook of Allen's arm, her eyes focused on the flickering fire they huddled before. She looked up at him, evaluating him, wondering what he was thinking. It had been a year since she had been channeled into the last hour of her sister's existence and she had been profoundly changed. They had ended up withholding the sale of the property and used up what little saving they had to completely dismantle the place.

They had found the bodies of Anna and their mother in a hidden panel in the floor of the den. Both had been beaten and strangled.

Sara had told no one but Allen of her experience and had not insisted on his acceptance of it. He had given her a pitiful reassurance each time she dragged it up.

Her reminiscence of the event was broken by a weak cry in the other room.

"I'll get it," she whispered as she pecked Allen on the cheek. Rising and going into the small room off the family room, she reached into a small crib and lifted the softly crying form of her child.

Three month old Anna Marie Lewis was her proof. Sara hugged the child close and promised her as she had so many time. "I love you. I'll never let anything happen to you again."