Being a victim of ******, I am appalled at the amount of stories that I find on the Internet that glorifies the repulsive act. All of these stories seem to have the same theme: The little girl loved doing it with daddy.

I am telling my story because I feel that this is the only way that I can get through to readers of these stories that this is not an act that should be glorified. I would venture to guess that up to 99% of those girls that have experienced an actual ******uous relationship with their father would tell you that it was the most horrible and traumatic thing that ever happened to them.

In my case, I must confess that I did experience sexual pleasure. Nevertheless, it was still the most fearful and degrading experience that any girl could live through.

I was 15 years old when I gave up my virginity to the 'love of my life' my 16-year-old boyfriend Donald. We had been dating for about a year and he was becoming more and more insistent that we 'go-all-the-way'. I tried to hold him off by giving him oral sex, and even though I became quite adept at it, he kept pressuring me that he needed the 'real thing'. Finally, I relented.

There was no 'magic' that first time. There were no bells ringing or birds singing. There were no glorious thrills of pleasure. It was painful and empty, I simply felt like a useful toy for my boyfriend. In short, I hated it.

The second time that he did it to me was not any better.

The third time is supposed to be a charm and in our case, it almost was. Donnie did not do it to me; we did it together. We were at my house and my mother and father were both working (I thought). Donnie and I spent over a half-hour 'petting'. On this night he was just being plain lovable, without being demanding. We worked ourselves into a passion, slowly, delightfully, like real lovers.

Because Donnie did not rush, by the time we finally got into my bed I was truly horny, for the first time in my life. Still, he did not force himself on me, spending at least another 15 minutes on foreplay. He was turning me on so much that I was actually becoming the aggressor.

When finally he entered me, I felt that the chills and thrilling pleasures going through me were the reason for my being. It was an unbelievable experience. That night, for the first time, my body instinctively was reacting to my inner sensual feelings. I was fascinated and excited at the way my body was moving about on its own accord under my boyfriend's sexual manipulations.

I was only seconds away from my climax when my father burst into the room. Donnie was quickly off me and my father was just as quick upon him. I had never seen my father in such a rage and I will never know how he was able to restrain himself from killing my boyfriend.

Donnie was rapidly putting on his shoes and pants and I started to get up, when my father screamed violently at me, "YOU STAY THERE! DON'T YOU MOVE!"

Naturally, I froze.

In less than a minute, my boyfriend was dressed from the waist down and rushing out of the room carrying his shirt and jacket. I heard the front door slam closed as he beat a hasty retreat, probably thankful that he escaped unscathed.

"Daddy ... I... ," I started to plead. I was so filled with fear and trepidation that I think, in my mind at that point, I was pleading for my life.

"Shut up. Don't say anything!" I will never forget his tone for the rest of my life.

There I lay, naked as the day I was born, still breathing somewhat heavily from the aborted sex and its aftermath, with my father's eyes flashing wildly over my body.

I could feel my hands and my legs trembling. I looked fearfully at him as he stood alongside my bed looking down at me. I originally thought that I was seeing rage on his face but I have since come to realize that what I had been seeing was lust. I nervously looked away, and my eyes frantically searched the ceiling and walls as if they might find an escape route.

As he stood there, my father's eyes took in every inch of my flesh, over and over. After a couple of minutes, I summoned the courage to again turn to look at him, and although I quickly pulled my eyes back away, I still managed to see what was happening. He was hard. His pants were sticking straight out, so it was obvious. My father was sexually aroused. I cannot describe the fear and disgust that I was feeling at that moment.

I had been ashamed of my father for a couple of years by that time. He had always been one of those dads who liked to hug and squeeze his 'little girl', but at about the same time that I had my first period I seemed to sense that his touches were becoming more direct. Although I was a sexually na´ve girl, I was still aware of my feminine self and knew that my body was not for touching, not even by my dad.

There had been numerous occasions when, under the pretense of a hug or a squeeze, that I felt his hands touch a 'forbidden' part of me, and sometimes linger until I pulled away. I had learned in school about ****** so it did not take me long to sense that there was a problem. A couple of times he even maneuvered my hand onto his crotch and to my horror I felt his hard thing jumping in his pants. However, he made sure that he never touched me wrong if mom was around. I was afraid to tell her of my belief that my father wanted to have sex with me.

So now, lying naked on my bed before him, upon seeing his eyes upon me, and the lump in his crotch, my fears were quickly overwhelming me. My mind was in panic mode, knowing that, with my mom at work, I was in the house alone with my dad.

Then the dreaded night began in earnest. With his eyes lodged on his 'little girl's' naked body, my father, who was still standing alongside of the bed, began to unbutton his shirt. A wrenching pang of fear gripped me, knowing what the look on his face meant.

I started to turn to get up, saying only, "Daddy..." My lips were quivering.

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO MOVE!!!" he roared. "And I told you to shut up. If you move one more time I swear to god I'll kill you!." Looking at his contorted face I was sure that he would.

I lay back and watched in horror as he quickly tore his clothes off himself while his eyes stayed riveted on my naked body. First, he unbuttoned and ripped off his shirt, tossing it aside to the floor. He was glistening from a sheen of sweat that had formed on his muscled body. I had seen daddy's arms and chest many times in my life but this was the first time that I was looking at him as a man. He looked so powerful, which only served to add to my helpless feeling.

As his hands moved to his belt I wanted to get up and run, but I knew if I did, he would probably catch me and kill me. His hands were then pushing both his pants and shorts down his legs and as he was bending to pull them off his ankles, my eyes looked over the muscles on his body. He looked so much manlier than Donnie.

Then he stood. The sight of seeing my father naked brought on my greatest fear. I was having a terrible time trying to breathe. My heart was pounding so hard in my chest that I was afraid that it was just going to stop. I began to silently cry.

I can't characterize how I felt like an uninvolved observer as my father, totally naked, climbed up onto the bed with me.

"So my baby's been fucked, hah? You like to be fucked, hah?"

"N-n-no daaad."


I cringed at his powerful fearful voice, and I think from that point on the tears just automatically rolled down my cheeks.

I watched in horror as he moved across my bed. I felt his hands pulling at my inner thigh, wanting me to spread my legs. The fear running through my mind, of his beating me to a pulp, had me willing to let him do anything with me that he wanted. I spread my legs and watched as he moved slowly within them. Then he was kneeling, with his body upright. It was here that for the first time in my life I saw my father's manhood. I must admit that as scared as I was, I was still fascinated by the sight of his flesh, which seemed to be twice the size of Donnie's. I wanted to cry out but my fear prevented my voice from protesting.

To my utter dismay, he then put both of his hands on me. One began rubbing me, first around my belly, next downward to the inside flesh of my thighs, and finally back to repeat the whole procedure. At the same time, his other hand moved right into my pussy. First, his hand rubbed outside and then his fingers started twirling my clitoris. I felt my body involuntarily reacting.

My father began muttering. "Oh my baby ... You're wet ... Your cunt is nice and juicy. It was good to fuck, hah? You liked being fucked, hah? My baby's cunt likes to be filled."

The tears just continued to pour out of my eyes as my sobs increased. I was terrified upon hearing these words. Dad had never before cursed around me, and these babblings only helped to convince me that he was out of his mind, which only served to crystallize my fear. His words kept flowing as his fingers worked on my pussy.

I can't say for sure, maybe it was because my sexual encounter with Donnie was not completed and therefore my body may still have been craving fulfillment, but to my complete horror, I found myself sexually responding to my father's manipulations. As much as I was afraid and hating my father, nevertheless I felt my body moving from side to side under his hands, and when his fingers slid up inside me I reacted like a sleazy prostitute. I heard myself moan and my knees, seemingly of their own accord, raised upward. I truly wanted his hand inside me.

"My baby's cunt is so hot. It likes to be excited. It wants me, hah? It likes daddy's hand. It wants daddy's cock. Do you want me to lick here baby?" he asked as his fingers moved in my pussy to indicate where he meant.

His words nauseated me. What he was suggesting seemed so foreign and ugly. Until that time, I had never heard of such a thing. Yet, my body's reactions were almost directing my thoughts by now.

I cannot in a million years explain this but as much as I was repulsed with what was happening, and whom it was happening with, I was just as equally physically excited; no, maybe even more so. It is because of how out-of-control my mind and body had become that I now state as fact that even though a girl may react positively to an unwanted attack, that does not mean that she is not being forced.

I heard my voice respond, even though I did not direct it. "Yes ... please ... I'd like that," my voice said.

My father had a drunken smile on his lips and he nodded as if he understood me. I watched in fascination as he lowered himself down, his face moving between my thighs, which I could feel quivering. As my eyes looked down my body at him, his face was at my mound. I felt his open mouth and hot breath, as his lips pressed against my flesh. His tongue began pushing into my pussy and I could feel it licking in tiny circles as he began talking childishly.

My father was actually talking to my pussy, in my pussy. "You taste nice, mmmm, nice cunt, nice baby pussy ... mmmm cunt ... my delicious cunt."

His soft speaking coupled with the sensations that my body was experiencing was pushing my fear into the background. It was about this time that I totally lost my sense of right or wrong. Dad's face moved back up in my slit and all of a sudden he took my clitoris between his lips and drew it into his mouth. I arched my back up to meet his mouth and he began sucking and licking at my flesh.

"Nnnnnnggggg..." I clenched my teeth and strange sounds were coming from somewhere in my throat. I lowered my body and then thrust up again to meet him. He obviously had plenty of experience at this and he worked expertly within and about my pussy, causing a glorious feeling deep inside of me.

When his mouth pulled away, I gasped at the loss. Then his lips were tenderly kissing at the inner flesh of my thigh, just below my aching pussy. The thrilling and chilling sensations that his mouth was causing, along with the sudden void my pussy was feeling, created a fierce wave of desperate desire in me, so much so that I could not stop my body from automatically reacting. I bent forward and my hands reached out and grabbed desperately at the back of my father's head.

At this point my body had completely betrayed my brain and was now a willing, even an eager depraved participant in my father's ******uous perversions. I eagerly pulled him into my pussy and as his tongue pushed itself back into me, I began to lose complete control of myself. As his tongue fucked in and out of my pussy, my hands were clutching fiercely at his head, while my hips were thrusting up and down in a frantic bid for pleasurable relief. I was nothing more than a wild, wanton bundle of sexual pleasures.

I know that I was calling out words of encouragement to him as his frenetic lapping caused my body to experience the most violent spasms imaginable. I was hardly aware of him moving his mouth from between my legs and climbing up on top of me. It was only after his cock had abutted the lips of my pussy that I looked up and saw my father's face only inches from mine. Fear gripped me, but by this time, my senses were so corrupted that I don't think that I even tried to stop him from entering me.

"Oh baby ... daddy's wanted to do this for so long," he grunted.

His fingers began moving about my nipples and breasts and I watched motionless as his face descended toward me. I clamped my lips and eyes shut. I felt his lips pecking about mine. Then he was lightly kissing at my chin, cheeks, neck and lips ... pecking ... pecking. I felt his manhood actually jumping about at the entrance of my pussy.

I knew that this was all inevitable. I did not want to do any of this, kissing or screwing with my father. I kept my eyes squeezed tightly closed. Don't look, this isn't dad, I told myself. This is Donnie. This had to be Donnie. I forced my mind to will that this was Donnie, my love. Donnie's lips were pressing against mine while Donnie's warm flesh was covering my body.

When my father's tongue forced past my lips and entered into my mouth ... it was Donnie that I felt. I knew that at that point I was again involuntarily responding as I threw my hands around his back and opened my mouth to his loving assault. I could actually smell my pussy on his mouth and, for some reason that I can't explain, this aroused me.

I began moaning and kissing my father back, as once again my body was becoming a bundle of passion. Donnie's image quickly deserted me, and once more, I was in full cahoots with my father. I twirled my tongue around his and I felt a hungry need to taste inside his mouth. When I pushed my tongue into him, the groan that came out of my father's mouth was indescribable. Feeling his excitement only raised my stimulation. Nobody has since been able to tell me why I acted so depraved but I suddenly wanted nothing short of making my father as hot as he had ever been. I moved my hands to the back of his head and pulled his mouth harder to mine. Our mouths were sloppily gnashing one another. The wanton slut was back in full force.

I felt my father's cock entering me and I gasped for air under his mouth as a filling pleasure started to inflame my loins. I opened my legs as wide as possible to accept that mass of flesh that I had seen and as I felt it sliding inside, filling me up, I wrapped my legs around my father and pushed up to meet him. I had a depraved desire to feel every inch of my father's cock inside me.

He began thrusting in and out. The feeling was unlike any I ever experienced at any time, before or after. At that point, I wanted the pleasures to continue forever. If I had been given the offer of keeping him inside me throughout eternity, I would have said yes.

I continued sucking at his mouth and fucking my little body up to his with utter abandon. I am sure that my own excitement inflamed him even more than he had been and he was moving rapidly and fiercely in and out of my ravaged pussy. We were both moaning and muttering around grunts and animal-like sounds. I was grabbing with all of my might as the final spasms gripped my insides and the pleasures overwhelmed me.

I vaguely remember my father telling me that he was about to cum and I think I urged him to do it. He released every drop of sperm that his body produced inside of me. As he pumped his final pushes, my pussy continued to explode.


When mom came home, I did not rush to tell her. I was afraid that she wouldn't believe me. Although I was still wide-awake, I stayed in my bed, tossing and turning. My hatred for and fear of my father was burning at me. I was so disgusted with myself.

At one point during the night, I actually went down to the kitchen, got a knife from the drawer, and sneaked into my parent's room. My father and mother were sound asleep. I raised the knife above my father's chest but could not plunge it in. I silently backed out of the room. From there, I went into the bathroom, found every single pill within the medicine cabinet and swallowed them all.

At the hospital, the true story came out. Dad was arrested. While awaiting trial, we found out that I was not his first victim. My father had also raped my older sister a couple of years earlier, but she did not say anything until after my rape.

During the trial, it was intimated that I encouraged and enjoyed the incident and somehow my schoolmates and friends found out. My reputation was ruined. We moved out of town and never heard from my father ever again. My life has been a total wreck ever since. Nine months later, I had our baby. Fortunately, little Donnie turned out to be healthy.

The End