tagIncest/TabooBorn Beautiful, Rachel's Story #01

Born Beautiful, Rachel's Story #01


Please note that just as all sexual acts are reluctantly consensual, all characters in this story are over 18-years-old. With Olga, 35-years-old, her son, Karl, 20-years-old, and her daughter, Rachel, 18-years-old, there are no underage characters in this story.


A Woman Without Rights Living in a Man's World in 1860 Germany.

"No! Stop! Don't! Please, I beg you," cried Olga while pulling against her ties.

Frozen in fear and unable to move from her bed, Rachel hugged her pillow in resigned horror while listening to her mother beg for mercy in the barn. Being sensitive to such things anyway, perhaps sensing something by picking up on her father's foul mood and her brother's horniness, Rachel just had this very conversation with her mother last night. With them drunk again, with her father angry at everything and everybody again, and with Karl horny again, she had a feeling that this would happen again. Before she climbed in bed, she pushed her chest of drawers against her bedroom door.

It had been a while since her father and brother took her mother out to the barn for discipline and here she was being disciplined again. Only discipline had nothing to do with the unspeakable things they did to her mother. Feeling guilty as the one responsible for bringing home that women's right's flyer and, no doubt, her father's justified reason to discipline her mother, as if her father needed a reason to beat his wife and allow his son to sexually abuse his mother, she only hoped they wouldn't take her next.

"Why Mama does Papa take you out to the barn to beat you and allow Karl to sexually molest you before whipping you? After all you do for them, I don't understand why they so abuse you," she looked at her mother with confusion and continued when her mother didn't respond. "Is this the life that I can expect to have when I marry a man?"

"These are troubled times for Germany Rachel. Your father has a lot on his mind. Not all men are as angry as your father is and your brother just does what his father tells him to do. Although you will never forget, I hope that when you give your heart to a young man, love will be enough to carry you the distance to forgive him for hurting you, beating you, and allowing his son to rape you, as I have done with my husband and my son."

It was obvious by her mother's words that the man Rachel married would undoubtedly hurt her, beat her, and allow her son to rape her, that is, if she was fortunate enough to have a son. That was how men treated women back then and, more than one-hundred-fifty-years later, that violent abuse against women still continues today in some households. Using a broad, black brushstroke, her mother had just painted a bleak picture of the horror that her daughter could expect in her near future. Bad enough she was forced to listen to the horror of her mother being so abused but to think that this may soon be her reality too, Rachel wanted no part of any of that.

"I don't understand Mama how you could love such a mean man," said Rachel about her father. "In the conceived, reincarnated monster of Papa, your son is no better," she said about her brother. "Why do they do this to you? Why must you suffer because of them? Why can't you make them stop?" She paused to look at her mother while waiting for her reply and watched her drop her head in silent shame before speaking.

"I have no control over what they do or don't do," said Olga nearly in a whisper.

"With a roof over our heads and plenty of food to eat, unlike so many others around us who have nothing and no one, we should have a problem. We should be a happier family instead of being such an abused and abusive one. I don't understand why Papa takes his anger and frustration out on you."

Olga looked up at her daughter to smile her love before touching Rachel's cheek. She brushed back her long, chestnut hair that fell in front of her green eyes, the same color hair and eyes as her mother.

"Because they can. As a woman, we have no rights. All we have is the hope that our love is enough for a man to respect us and not beat us."

"Love? What is love? Other than the love that I have for you, Papa, and Karl, I know nothing about love. I should know about such things Mama. I'm old enough now to know," said Rachel.

"Love just happens and you'll know when it does. Even in an arranged marriage when we don't chose our partners, love does. Thinking that our lives will be better than our mothers' lives and thinking that a man is the answer to all of our problems, we're blinded by love. Unable to think clearly, and with other women our worst enemies in filling our heads with their foolish delusions of love and handed-down expectations of how women must act when in love, women surrender who they are and all they could be for the sake of the men they love."

"I have a lot to learn about love, men, and marriage," said Rachel. "Instead of it being a silly game, it all sounds so complicated."

"Don't fret. Now that I know all the mistakes I made, I will teach you how not to make the same mistakes," said Olga. "Yet because of you and your brother, it wasn't a mistake to marry your father. My mistake was that I was so young. With your father so much older than me when we married, I allowed your father to control me in the way that a father controls his daughter instead of in the way that a husband loves his wife. Conforming to his wishes, catering to his whims, and sacrificing myself for him by spoiling him, I did too much to accommodate him."

"Thank you Mama for telling me this."

"Men on the other hand are the ones who don't change. Even though many women believe that they can change their man, men are incapable of changing their ways and correcting their bad habits. By hitching her wagon to his, a woman makes the mistake of setting her lovesick heart on a man and allowing him to fill that blank place that she was unable to fill herself and that has taken hold of her soul throughout her wretched life," said Olga. "Something that sometimes is so very elusive, hope is our only cure. Only abandoning us when we need hope the most that medicine always escapes us to leave us with despair."

"I hate living here Mama," said Rachel with her brow wrinkled with perplexity. "I don't do anything but work and I don't go anywhere but this farm. It's as if I'm a prisoner held here against my will. Why am I not allowed to go to town and have some fun? Maybe I'd meet a handsome stranger, fall in love, and marry."

"Especially now with all the violent unrest, it's dangerous for a woman to travel alone and your father and brother would never take you to town with them," said Olga. "With a woman looking like you in a town of angry, drunken men, there'd be a riot over the right to claim you. Even as violently angry as your father is and even as big and strong as your brother is, they'd be unable to protect you against a mass of men who'd want to do unspeakable things to your naked, virginal body."

Longing to have intimate carnal knowledge, Rachel suddenly imagined herself being stripped naked and taken behind a building for a few men to have their wicked way with her shapely body. Even though she was pure and had never experienced a man in the Biblical sense, she still had impurely wicked thoughts that fueled her sexual fantasies whenever she masturbated herself when alone at night in her room. She's dreamt what it would feel like to have a man want her, kiss her, touch her, and feel her. She's dreamt what it would feel like to have a man on top of her and inside of her while making love to her before fucking her.

During those times of the month when she's feeling so uncontrollably horny, she's even dreamt about what it would feel like to take a man in her mouth and suck him. Even though she'd be horrified with the reality of strange men taking her from the safety of her father and brother, that still didn't stop her from imagining dozens of hands touching her in places where she only touches herself. The thoughts of being so wanted and so desired by so many men hardened her nipples before she felt a familiar warm sensation between her legs.

"Already an old maid, you were married at 14-years-old and I'll be 19-years-old soon," said Rachel. "You had Karl by the time you were 15-years-old and me when you were 17-years-old," she said looking at her mother with hopefulness. "Not that I even have anyone in mind but when will I be allowed to marry Mama?"

"Times were different when I married your father in 1839 than they are during these modern and troubled times of 1860. Before the German revolution and all of this talk about the unification of German states, the advent of the second industrial revolution taking over where the first industrial revolution left off, and now with women's rights protests and equal rights demonstrations, life was simpler then and people were happier."

"You sound just like Papa, Mama when he rants and raves about the social issues, the economy, the church, the state, and the King," said Rachel with a laugh. "Still unable to let go of the past, the way that Germany used to be is all that he talks about, especially when he's drinking."

"It's hard not to side with a man when sleeping in the same bed while watching him toss and turn with all of the injustices inflicted upon him in the course of his day," said Olga. "He used to sleep like a baby after working so hard on the farm. Now he worries about things that he can't control."

Rachel looked at her mother with consternation. Now that they were alone while her father and brother were on the front porch drinking, this was her opportunity to protest and tell her mother how she felt. Hoping that her mother would champion her cause and what she said now would reach her father's ear later, she'd never dare tell her father how she felt for fear that he'd slap her and beat her in the way he abuses his wife.

"Not even allowed to attend at dance Mama, all my time is spent here doing chores on the farm. How will I marry if I've yet to be introduced to a young man and chaperoned on a date?"

"When the time is right Rachel, your father will arrange for you to meet someone and marry," said Olga with reticence. "Karl will chaperone your dates to make sure you're safe."

"Karl? I don't want Papa picking my future husband and I certainly don't want Karl scaring away whoever I chose," said Rachel with a face full of horror. "I see the look on the faces of men when they see Karl for the first time and see how much bigger he is than them."

"Unfortunately for you, Rachel, born beautiful, your beauty is your high price to pay. Being that you weren't born a boy and are unable to help your father around the farm in the way that your brother does, your life has taken a different path. By aligning you with a suitable suitor from a wealthy family, your father only wants the best for you."

"You mean he wants the best for himself," she said looking at her mother with frustration. "When Papa looks at me, when he's not staring at my body, undressing me with his eyes, and trying to fondle me through my clothes, he sees gold, he sees silver, and he sees more land and livestock. I'm just future income to him."

"Yes, your father has high hopes for your future that will benefit our family too. Unlike me, falling in love with your father, a hardworking farmer, when I was so young, so naive, and so innocent and before I knew the beautiful woman I'd become and that would have allowed me to have any man, you'll marry a rich man. You'll marry a man of importance and a man who can give you every luxury, satisfy your every materialistic whim, and afford you every opportunity for happiness."

"Our life would have been so different had you married a rich man Mama," said Rachel while imagining herself dressed in gowns and jewels.

Had her mother not been so physically, emotionally, and sexual abused, had her mother slept more and not been worked nearly to death, Rachel imagined them looking more like sisters than they do mother and daughter. Once full of life, energy, and positivity, her mother was so beautiful. With the uncertainty of the times, these past ten years have taken a toll on every German.

"Your husband will give you all the things that I never had living on a working farm," said Olga smiling at her daughter. "Don't worry. Your married life will be so much better than mine. Even though I still love your father and my son, you're my real joy. I promise you that, so long as I'm alive, no harm will ever come to you."

"Thank you Mama." Rachel gave her mother a hug.

"I love you Rachel." Olga returned her daughter's hug. "Soon you're father will find you a suitable man to marry."

"Having not even had a boyfriend, I'm so very inexperienced. Other than the slobbering of Papa and Karl, I've never even been properly kissed by a man. Other than the desperate groping that I must endure from my deranged, drunken father and my perverted, drunken brother, I've never been touched, fondled, and caressed. Other than Papa and Karl forcing me to touch their pricks and flashing me their penises when they're drunk, I've never felt and/or seen a man's cock and I'm curious to know what they look and feel like when they grow big and hard."

"Even though these are modern times Rachel and for the sake of your reputation, those are things saved for your wedding night and your wedding bed. For a virginal woman to marry in a good family, she shouldn't have any sexual experience and/or erotic thoughts," said Olga looking at her daughter with exasperation before addressing her daughter's next concern.

"Yes Mama," said Rachel suddenly feeling embarrassed that she shared too many of her sexual thoughts and secret desires with her mother.

"They are good men Rachel when they're not drinking. Best you keep yourself locked in your room with your chest of drawers pushed against your door when they're drunk. Besides, with too much free time on their hands now, gone all day, they'll be busy working the fields again soon. Now that the weather is changing and they are nearly out of alcohol to drink, their brief respite won't last much longer," said Olga.

"Living here is an abomination Mama. Our lives here are hopeless, yours more than mine," said Rachel holding her mother's hand. "You've already made your bed and I'm still waiting to make mine. I'm still young. I can still flee to America and start life anew. Come with me Mama. Runaway with me."

"I can't leave my beloved Germany. This life is the only life I know. Even though their drunken abuse may be the death of me, I'd never leave your father and my son," said Olga.

"I want to go to America one day but I'm afraid to go alone. Safer that I remain above deck then to go below, I'm afraid to be aboard a ship with so many men," said Rachel. "Notwithstanding my valid worries, my catalyst that will cement my indecision may be if Papa chooses the wrong man for me to marry."

"I pray that you'll give your father's prospective marriage selection in picking a man for you a fair chance. If you were to runaway he'll never forgive you."

"I can't imagine the abuse you'd suffer if I ran away and denied Papa from receiving his bounty for marrying me off to a wealthy family."

"Just remember my sweet daughter not to judge me but to learn from my mistakes and to live your life not for me or for your father but for the happiness of yourself. Without women's rights I have no control and no say in what my husband can do and does to me or to you, his daughter. Perhaps you'll have women's rights in your lifetime and will be free from forced slavery, indentured servitude, and being at the mercy of a man. Nearing the end of my life, I'm so tired and downtrodden. Pity and the love that I have for my children are the last emotions that I have left."

"Oh, Mama. Don't say that. You're still young. You have plenty of years yet to live," said Rachel.

"My quantity of life may have been diminished by the quality of life already lived," said Olga with sadness. "When the man I love turns his heavy hand of convoluted judgment against me and replaces my pride with humiliation, I'm done. He wounds my love with violence and replaces my happiness with suffering by dragging me from the comfort of my bed and down a flight of stairs by my hair. He orders his son to carry me out to the barn to be beaten as if I'm an animal. Then, he takes pleasure in watching his son strip me naked and have sex with me while he watches and masturbates. Willing to sacrifice my body to save yours, my hope and my dreams are for you. My salvation is in you dear Rachel."

"Mama," said Rachel crying as if her mother was on her deathbed and dying.

"I now know that I'll only have peace when the last roof I have over my head is a coffin lid," said her mother before retiring for bed. "I'll help you with money stolen from your father's and brother's pockets for you go to America Rachel," said her mother with a sad but determined smile. "They're always too drunk to know any better."

* * * * *

It was raining and well past midnight when Rachel was awakened by a scream. Hugo, Rachel's father, was in the barn again with his wife, Olga, her mother, and his son, Karl, her brother. With booming thunder as if Thor's hammer was being banged against her bedroom roof and flashes of brilliant lightning that lit up her room brighter than her candles and lit up the summer's night sky against a full moon, it was a powerfully loud and scary storm. As if God was angry with this family and, no doubt, he was, the thick fog that covered the landscape prevented her from seeing the horror that took place within the barn.

The lull before the storm, just a few hours ago, so peacefully yet unnervingly quiet, there wasn't a bird, a reptile, an animal, or an insect about. They all knew enough to hide. Only with nowhere to go, other than to jump out her bedroom window and run, Rachel had nowhere to hide. Moreover with her next door neighbor miles away and with men everywhere abusing their womenfolk in the same incestuous way as her father and brother abused her mother and, no doubt, hope to soon abuse her, she had no place to run. Trapped helplessly in her bedroom, she was so tragically vulnerable.

Dark, bleak, and cold, it was a night for a fire but there wasn't one burning in the fireplace. Snuggling herself beneath the covers, Rachel shivered from the cold and from the thoughts of what was happening to her mother in the barn. Yet, once the storm was over, the bright, summer sun that brings light, life, and hope will temporarily make her forget what had happened here this night, that is, until it happens again.

With nothing now that she could do, she needed to sleep. Only, she feared sleep. She feared they'd come for her too and she wanted to be ready and not be pulled from her bed, dragged down the stairs, carried out to the barn, tied to the horse stall, and stripped naked as they routinely do to her mother. If she was to be taken anywhere against her will, she wanted to walk out on her own accord with her head held high and not be dragged or carried to her whipping post.

"How dare they!"

Unable to sleep but too tired to get up to begin her chores, she was in that dazed place between being fully awake and being sound asleep. With her mind ready to start the day, she was unable to overcome that tired feeling that held her body prisoner. Her mind burdened by the sense of things about her was free to percolate her thoughts with worry. With a consciousness of all that was happening around her and an inability to control her thoughts from thinking the worst, her sleep was nothing more than a bad dream. Confined by an overpowering heaviness with words spoken or sounds heard real and/or imagined to give her dreams visions and her imagination wings until both were woven into one, terrible nightmare that was too horrible to verbalize, she tossed and turned in her bed with sleeplessness.

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bySusanJillParker© 7 comments/ 110111 views/ 58 favorites

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