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Daddy And Daughter Case Studies: Volume One
Copyright © 2017
Darque Taboo Press
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Disclaimer: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic, adult language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable which might include: multiple sexual practices, heavy and strong BDSM themes and elements, erotic elements and fetish play. This e-book is for sale to adults ONLY. All characters depicted at least eighteen years of age or older.
Table of Contents
It was not too long ago that a young woman like Miss Marijane H. would never come forward and confess to the type of sexual conduct that my patient in this first case history admitted to. Incest has always been difficult to admit, particularly when it occurs between father and daughter.
Young Marijane H., eighteen years old, came to my offices on a bright spring day in May of 1974. Miss H. was very definite about what she wished to discuss.
"It's something which has been going on between my father and I," she said to me. "We've been doing something which you're going to say is immoral."
"How do you know ahead of time exactly how I'm going to react?" I asked her.
"You shrinks are all alike," she shrugged. "I know that what we've done violates society's rules. That's why I'm so uptight about it. That's why I have to discuss it."
"I'd be perfectly happy to discuss your problem with you, Miss H., " I said to her. "And I can assure you that I will approach your problem with a completely open mind."
"I think that's bullshit," she said.
"I beg your pardon?" I asked.
"What we've been doing is something that people rarely admit to doing. You're not going to like it at all. You're going to try to find something seriously wrong with us psychologically."
"Miss H., " I said to her, "I believe it's you who is now bringing a pre-conceived notion to these proceedings. Perhaps you should stop your analysis of this case and start telling me exactly what happened."
"We've been fucking," she said.
"You and your father?" I asked, looking up at her.
"That's right," she said. "See?" she asked. "I knew you'd think we were strange perverted people."
"I don't think that at all," I said. "The facts of the matter are that incest occurs frequently every day in the United States. The fact that you and your father have had sex is actually nothing uncommon."
"Holy shit," she said. "Now you're going to tell me that fathers and daughters fuck with each other all the time. Is that the line you're going to try to feed me?"
I looked at the attractive young girl. She was eighteen years old but had already developed into a mature, attractive and sensual young woman. She wore a short little yellow skirt which made her long tan legs seem all the more tan and which also made her long blonde hair seem all the more blonde. Her breasts were full and round, a fact which was readily apparent beneath the sheer thin cotton fabric of her blouse.
"I wouldn't try to tell you any such thing," I said to her. "But the fact is that incest has begun to occur more frequently in North America. No longer are many fathers and daughters ashamed of what they've done. Now many of them freely admit that they've had incest."
"Is that right?" she asked, her mood changing slightly.
"It is," I replied. "That's why it's important that you tell me exactly how you and your father happened to have sex with each other."
"I didn't follow that," she said. "Why is it important that I talk to you about what Daddy and I did?"
"Because," I replied, "as incest creeps into public view and as more and more people become involved in sexual acts of an incestuous nature, more and more people wish to know about the commission of incest."
"How do you mean that?" she asked. "What is there to know about incest? You screw someone who you're related to by blood. Isn't that all there is?"
"Hardly," I said. "You neglect the emotions of the situation. Wouldn't you say that you have a certain emotional attachment to your father?"
"Sure," she said. "Doesn't everybody?"
"Of course," I said. "But the fact is that such an emotional attachment can change under the emotional stress of incestuous sex. That's one of the most important aspects of what we're studying in this report."
"Oh," she replied.
"You see," I continued to Miss H., my attractive young patient, "sex is not something which can be isolated from the other aspects of a person's mind and body."
"What do you mean by that?" she pressed again.
"What I mean is that sex is both a physical and mental function. Many people see sex as a purely physical thing. Many people who put themselves in the position of community censors, for example, often react to sex in that way. That is, they don't interpret the emotional and psychological expressions of sex acts. These people see sex only on its simplest and most basic level-the physical level."
"Oh," she said. "I guess that's the way I like to look at it, though."
I asked Miss H. exactly what she meant by that.
"The level on which I find sex most enjoyable," she said. "That's the physical level. I like to go horizontal with my father. That's how I like to ball."
"I see," I said. "And how long has this been going on?"
"How long have we been fucking?" she asked. "Is that what you want to know."
"Yes," I said.
"About eight months," she said. "But we'd started to have sex a few weeks before that."
"I see," I nodded. "In other words you started to have sexual contact before you actually had sexual intercourse."
"Right," she said. "And as soon as that began I knew I wanted to have sex with Daddy. I knew that it was something I just wanted to do."
"Even though you must have known that society considers incest to be highly immoral?" I asked.
"I don't give a royal flying fuck about what society thinks," she said. "I'm liberated. I don't have to care about bullshit like that."
"What kind of sex were you having before you actually had intercourse?" I asked. "Petting?Necking?"
"Better than that," she said.
"Please tell me," I insisted.
"I was blowing him," she said. "And he was performing cunnilingus on me."
"I see," I said. "Oral sex."
"That's what it's called," she commented smugly. "Oral sex. Good oral sex."
"It pleased you?"
"Very much," she said. "Although like I said, it merely whetted my appetite for something better."
" 'Something better' being sexual intercourse? " I asked.
"That's right," she said.
"I'd like to know exactly how it began, Miss H., " I then said to her. "Before we waste any more time would you tell me about he initial sexual contact between you and your father?"
"Doctor,", she said, "it would be a real thrill for me to tell you. Every time I tell someone how it happened I get turned on all over again about that beautiful time when Daddy and I started to screw around."
"Please begin when you're ready," I advised. I waited for a few moments while Miss H. re-adjusted her short little mini-skirt. Then she related this story. ...
. . . I guess it was maybe about nine months ago when it began, doctor. I know it was a few weeks between the first oral contact and the first time he stuck his prong into my hot little vaginal slot. Well, here's what happened.
I was sound asleep one night in my own house, doctor, the house where I live with my parents and my two younger brothers. Normally I sleep very soundly, doctor, and never wake up in the middle of the night. Well, this night was different. This night I got up in the middle of the night. As it turned out, getting up in the middle of that night was to change my life.
I had been out on a date that night with a guy named Jimmy. Jimmy was a guy who was a real good looker and was well hung. He just had one problem, a problem which a lot of guys have: he used to come too soon.
That's a problem which many guys have, of course, doctor. More guys have that problem that any guy realizes. But facts are facts. Unless a guy can stroke my box for ten vigorous minutes with his fully extended prong, he has no chance whatever of satisfying me. There's nothing worse than having good foreplay and a good vigorous penetration only to have the guy gush his seeds out after merely a four or five minute stroke.
That's why my Daddy is such a good fuck, doctor. He can hold an erection for almost twenty minutes. And he's got a prick that could satisfy an elephant.
Well, I'm jumping ahead a bit, doctor. The fact is that I woke up in the middle of that night and there were two reasons why I woke up. Daddy and Jimmy.
You see, Jimmy had come too soon that previous evening. I had just been ready to get off a good hard orgasmic blast when Jimmy's penis erupted and spilled all of its juice down into my cunt. Now I've got nothing against a guy getting excited and coming, but a gentleman always waits until the lady has at least had a few good orgasms of her own.
Well, Jimmy never waits. He can't wait. And after fucking with him for several weeks I was getting pretty fed up .with having my pussy filled up with sperm but without having my own orgasms to go with that fill-up.
"Shit," I said to myself when I went to bed that night, "one of these days I'm going to impale my pussy on the bedpost. That's how horny Jimmy is making me."
Well, I didn't impale my cunt on the bedpost that night although I did give it very serious thought. I also gave serious thought to getting my trusty old vibrator out of the closet and dildoing myself with that, too. But I refrained from all of that. Instead I did what so many poor uneducated girls do. I simply went to bed horny, trying to lose my horniness by disappearing into a deep sleep.
It didn't work. Some nights it does work and other nights it fizzles. On this particular night, doctor, it fizzed badly but it still worked out well for me in the end.
You see, at about four o'clock in the morning I woke up and felt this terrible itch down there in my pussy. I knew what the itch was, doctor. It was pure unadulterated horniness, the kind of hominess a girl gets when she desperately needs to be fucked. I reached down to my pussy and I started to massage my clitoris. I moaned with contentment for a few seconds.
"Nice," I thought to myself as I worked over that clit with the cool soothing strokes of my finger. Only a woman knows exactly how the clitoris needs to be stroked. Men have no idea of how that magic little button must be treated.
"Very nice," I thought as my pussy got wet and started up toward the pre-orgasm plateau. I knew I could get myself up to that first level of excitement and then would be able to finish the job with that vibrator.
"Very nice, indeed," I thought to myself. And then I realized something strange.
There was a light on downstairs. Through the partially opened door to my room I could see that someone had left a light on in the downstairs living room. Either someone had left that light on or someone had gone downstairs. But why would anyone have gone down there at four o'clock in the morning.
I stopped what I was doing, got up out of bed, and went out of my room to investigate. I walked to the stairway that led down to the living room. I looked down to the living room and what should I see. It was my father, that big muscular man. He was sitting there all alone.
He looked very sad, doctor, and I thought that there might be something wrong. So slowly, pulling my short little silk nightie close to me, I walked down the stairs to where Daddy was.
"Marijane?" he asked. "What ... how ... what are you doing up at this hour?"
"I couldn't sleep," I said, looking at his powerful big chest through the open front of his pajamas. "And then I saw the light on down here."
He smiled and looked downward. "I couldn't sleep, either," he said. "I guess we both have problems." He looked back up with those sexy big blue eyes of his. "Maybe we both have the same problems," he added.
I looked at him and smiled. Then I realized that his eyes-my father's eyes-were looking me up and down. He was eyeing the little bumps of my nipples that were visible beneath my nightie. And he was equally looking at my long lean legs, those nice tan legs that I use to seduce guys in my class at high school.
"Does Daddy have a problem?" I asked him innocently.
"I do," he said. "A very serious problem."
"Should I sit down next to you?" I asked. "Maybe you'd like to tell me about it."
He looked at me and I looked back down at him. I was suddenly aware of what I saw beneath the trousers of his pajamas. There was a big rod rising up down there, a big phallus rising down between his legs. I began to wonder whether Daddy's problem had anything to do with sex. And one thing was clear: getting an erection was not the problem.
I sat down next to him and he wrapped his arm around me. He took me so firmly in that muscular masculine arm and he looked at me so sexily that I could feel my pussy starting to get warm and damp with desire.
"I would like to tell you about it, Marijane," he said to me. "And even more, I'd like it if you could do something about it. Do something and do it now."
"Gosh, Daddy," I said to him, feeling my pussy getting even wetter. "You know I love you. I'd do anything if it were real important for you."
"Anything," I said. "Daddy should know by now that he can count on his loving daughter for anything he wants."
"I'm glad you explained that to me," he said softly, "because I'm going to ask you to do something which may strike you as being very strange. But believe me, Marijane, it's extremely important to me."
"Anything, Daddy," I replied. "What I said was what I meant. Just tell me what you want."
"What I want," he explained slowly, "is a good blow job."
"Daddy!" I squealed. My pussy was hot with excitement now. The walls of my vagina were manufacturing that hot juice of desire and the juice was flooding forth so fast that I was afraid it was going to overflow from my pussy lips and flood all over the hair of my muff."
"Yes," he confirmed, "a blow job. That's what I want. It's what I've wanted for a long time now."
"From me?" I asked.
"From anyone," he answered. "I want a woman to take my penis in her mouth and suck on it. Have you ever done that for a guy?" he asked.
"I have, Daddy," I nodded frankly. "Two guys from the football team and three other guys in the senior class at the school I go to."
"Five times all together?" he asked.
"More that that, Daddy," I said candidly. "I've done it more than once for some of them."
"Very good," he said. He slipped his arm down around me and wrapped it around me down from my shoulder so that his hand came to rest on my bare tit. He felt my tit nicely and made it get all excited. I could feel the firm hard nipple on that breast and I was pleased that Daddy considered his little girl to be a sexy woman.
"Daddy?" I asked.
"What about Mom?" I asked.
"What about her?" he asked. "A wife's duty is to blow her husband whenever he needs it. Isn't that so, Daddy? Or am I saying something wrong? "
"You're not saying anything wrong," he said, "but your question gets to the heart of the whole problem."
"It does?" I asked. "Why?"
"Your mother simply won't take me into her mouth, tool me and let me come," my father said to me. "I've been after her ever since we were married years ago. I've always wanted her to do it. And she never would."
"Poor Daddy," I said.
"Some women are like that," he said. "Some women just don't think that they'll like the taste of the semen in their mouths. I don't know why."
"Semen tastes good, Daddy," I said to console him. "It tastes good in the pussy and good in the mouth."
"I know that," he said, "and you know that. The trouble is that your mother doesn't know that. And she won't let me give her the chance to find out."