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Woke Up Saturday Afternoon
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Finally woke up Saturday afternoon,
everyone was gone, mom had the weekend shift, and daddy not quite
sure where he was. As I got out of bed, my pussy was really sore
along with my insides, like someone drove a log inside of me, that
big log being Dr. Roberts thick dick. On the kitchen table downstairs
there was a box, wrapped with a note, Em thought you might need this
Love dad. I opened it, my god it was a laptop computer, a mac book
pro, daddy always told me macs are the best only because you don't
have to deal with those viruses all the time. I grabbed some
coffee,grab my gift and went to my room to set it up. Only thing I
was wondering is, why daddy would buy this for me now, I have been
lobbing for my own for 2 years, and now I get one? I finally gave in
my soreness was too much so I took pain pill Dr. Roberts prescribed
and my first birth control pill also, sat down and began to read and
set up my new laptop. Easy, very easy to do, in minutes I was up and
running and connected to the internet. Being a curious person I did a
search for, incest relations father daughter, gees 3 million things
came up, as I scrolled through the listings, I found one that said
dad daughter pics, guess what it brought me here to imagefap, I just
booked marked it for now, and I decided to check my school email,
every student has one in my school, this way teachers and such can be
in contact with students if there are any questions or problems they
may have with the work assignments. Once I logged in, I had 4 emails
from, our principal Miss Woodsen, and they were not very nice, see I
never went to school Friday either, and well I never bothered to
call, so I opened up the last one first and well it was unpleasant,
Emily, again you have missed 2 more day's of school, you are very
dangerously close to not graduating, between your absentee and your
poor grades you may not graduate, something must be done young lady,
I expect you in my office early Monday morning to discuss your
options, though at this point I think your only option is a 5th
year of high school! Miss Woodsen. I logged off, I can't do that I
can't do a 5th year, I can't stand going now, yet alone
I'll hear about from mom, she'll never let it go and daddy well he
won't be pleased either, if I don't get a diploma he will be less
than pleased with me, no matter what he and I are doing he has always
pleaded with me to just graduate. Even having this fancy new laptop
didn't make me very happy, laid on the bed, learning that for
everything you do there is consequences, my sore pussy is evidence to
that, yes guy's I am the one who enticed Dr. Roberts, it was my own
fault to some extent, but I never would have imagined what happened
to happen, more so I was very surprised at Mrs Roberts more so, I
have always found Dr. Roberts to be a very tall and handsome man,
ever since I started going to them, I have masturbated over him
plenty, but I would have never guessed that both of them play that
way and I truly believe that what they told me was truth that they
have done this many times before, finding girls like me who are cock
teasers, that's probably how they have gotten away with it so many
times, because in the end the girls that they have had are well like
me, wanting it, and I did too, make no mistake I am not sorry about
what happened, I did want it, and even though things with daddy are
escalating, I'm glad someone other than daddy busted my pussy, I
don't know why though I am, and I found Mrs Roberts to be very
exciting to me and though she was rough with me, her touch sparked
all my senses and the multiple orgasm I had was unbelievable, it was
now already later afternoon, I finally realized that I had never even
showered yesterday after my rape, and you know what I'm not showering
today either, I still had Dr. Roberts load dripping out of me, though
the pills have helped with the pain, feeling somewhat better, I
decided to just not shower and let my pussy be stinky and full of
cum, I didn't even feel like eating, I turned on the cable, laid back
down and just watched, for the rest of the day and into the night,
only two thoughts I had was, how am I going to fix my school problem,
more concerning as I though about the rape again, Dr. Roberts came
inside me twice, no protection, I hope he knew what he was doing, oh
god on top of everything else I don't want to become knocked up,
consequences for my actions, hopefully all will go well, I took one
more pain pill and again fell asleep for the remainder of the day.
Em
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Posted on : Jul 20, 2012
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Add Comment
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Commented on Jul 21, 2012
Now this brings us on to the subject of incest. From, “My Secret Gardenâ€, this is what Nancy Friday says.
“Each of the remaining rooms in the House of Fantasy depends upon the presence or embodiment of a specific fantasy character or characters in order for the female client to fully enjoy her fantasies. I start with the Incest Room because, despite Dr. Freud’s casual disinterest in the female equivalent of Oedipus, for women the first sexual imagery of fathers, brothers, etc., is often the most potent and lasting. It was interesting, I think, that though Freud at first accepted as fact his female hysterics’ tales of rape by fathers, stepfathers, or older brothers (and became concerned should the Austro-Hungarian, Empire be founded on the sick secret saga of daughter-rape), he later came to view these tales as the fantasies of women brought up under the paternal dictatorship of an age when the image of the Man of the House was so strong as to present an almost unconquerable unconscious rival for any man who came along later.
I am not qualified to discuss the psychological significance of incest, pro or con, even as fantasy. But I do think – despite the relative lack of evidence or interest in literature – that women can have as strong an incestuous preoccupation as men. Not all Sunday-mornings-in-bed-with-Mom-and-Dad have to end as traumatically as Bella’s, below, but I can’t help wondering how many seeds fore later fantasy are sown in this kind of family romp; the adults may be satisfying some very grown-up, harmless image of their own, may have very clear and controlled ideas as to just what is going on with the whole family in their marital bed, but what about the children?
Bella
I am a thirty-two-year-old registered nurse working in a
London hospital. I have one son almost fourteen. I was pregnant when I was married. My husband is a doctor.
My own fantasy is so shocking to me that it has been a lifelong secret, and only because it has taken a new twist have I decided to write it down to get some of it out of my system. My fantasies revolve around incest, almost any kind of incest, and over the years I have sought out every: bit of information I could about "incest," and know all the Greek myths where it occurs. To make a man sexy to my self I just imagine him a member of my family.
I make friends more firmly if they happen to show interest in my subject, and one affair some years ago was almost incestuously inspired. It happened in a Midlands hospital. I was looking after a\nice young man, a probation officer, who had been in a car accident. Among his cases was a father who had come out of prison after giving his daughter a baby. The law would not allow them to live in the same house, though they had recommenced sexual relations. The probation officer was happy so long as the girl remained on the pill. I talked to him at night and most of our conversation was on my favorite subject. One night, when we were both excited, he asked for a bottle. I put screens round his bed and put the bottle under the bedclothes. I took hold of his penis, which was exceptionally large, and held it for a few moments. It became such an erection that it would not enter the bottle. I began to masturbate him gently, and when I felt him go rigid, I kissed him as I felt his semen spurt along his shaft. I caught most of his semen in the bottle and our lips parted.
He said, "Thank you, Sister." I replied, "Oh, Brother," and a sexual link was established. As he got better, I had intercourse with him many times and we always called each other sister and brother.
But my principal fantasies have always been about my father. I was an only child and had a good home, receiving lots of affection from my parents, especially my father. He has, since I was about eight years old, been my fantasy lover during masturbation.
Dad went to work very early, six days a week, and as a child, when I went to my parents’ bed in the mornings, it was only on Sundays that both parents were in bed. This particular Sunday morning, I know I must have been eight, because the Sunday papers carried news of a hotel being bombed in Jerusalem, and this was in the summer of 1946. I was in bed only a short while with my parents when my mother decided to get up and go to a nearby farmhouse for some fresh milk. Alone in bed with Dad, I had a wrestling match with him. I remember enjoying the cuddles and embraces as Dad tried to subdue me and then he decided, I suppose, to let me win. He lay on his back, his pajamas were undone, my own nightie was up around my waist, and when I straddled and sat on my father, my naked pubic area came down on my Dad’s very large and, I now know, erect penis.
It was like sitting astride a broom handle. At first it lay flat against my Dad’s tummy. I rocked my bottom back and forward while Dad lay very still. It was at this precise moment I learned to masturbate. Eventually Dad reached for a hankie and rolled me off him. He got out of bed and dressed in the bathroom. I continued to lie in bed and touch myself lovingly with my fingers.
I then began to do this all the time in bed or when I was alone in the house, always thinking of that hard thing Daddy had, and how nice it would be to feel it between my legs again. But this was not to happen.
Every other Sunday morning I went to my parents’ bed, but Dad was already up and about. As I began to learn more about sex from other kids at school, I became more adventurous in my fantasies, until they settled into a set pattern when I was almost thirteen.
It was at this age that I was playing around with a slightly older girl. She talked a lot about sex and one day told me her big secret that was having sex with a much older married brother.
She told me what the word "incest" meant; part of the sex she explained was fellatio. She said how she loved to do this to her brother, and how he sometimes went down on her privates as well.
With this new information buzzing in my brain, I was out for a walk with my Dad one Sunday afternoon. Deep in the woods he decided he wanted to urinate and did so against a tree. But he turned toward me before he put his penis back in his trousers, and I gazed for a few loving seconds at my Dad’s beautiful monster. It has remained the main erotic feature of my masturbatory fantasies ever since.
All I have to do is imagine myself walling in a silent woods, and I can almost feel that my Dad is somewhere else in that woods, and that if I can almost hold my breath long enough, we’ll meet. The way I meet him is always the same. I turn a corner or come around a tree, and there he is, with his back to me, peeing against a tree. Then he turns around toward me, his penis still out and being held in his hand to guide the stream of pee. I find this too exciting to write about even now, and find myself thinking about my Dad even in real life.
Please open up the subject of incest. Is there any cure? Is there the same risk of prosecution in this permissive age? I know I can’t hold out much longer. I’m certain that if I tried this experiment, the shame would kill me, but other times what frightens me even more is the idea that I would become even more deeply involved with him. [Letter]
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Commented on Jul 21, 2012
The extract below is taken from Nancy Friday’s book “Forbidden Flowersâ€. The importance point here is what she is saying about the search for self. The question all teens ask themselves is, “Who am Iâ€. The point Nancy Friday is making is that it is through, masturbation and our sexual encounters that women discover their sexual selves.
ADOLESCENCE
With the advent of menstruation, childhood ends, adolescence begins. We are suddenly thrown into a larger world than we feel prepared for, given more choices than childhood ever offered. Much as we longed to be thought mature and adult, now that it has begun at last, we suffer role and identity confusions.
“What are you going to be when you grow up?†– the question throws us into despair. We wanted to do one thing yesterday, but that's no longer true today, and we suspect we will change our minds again tomorrow. Above all, we want to say, “I don't know. I'm too young to make up my mind.†But that's not allowed. Only kids can say that. Instead, we lapse into sulky silence or give top-of-the-head answers. The pressures of family and society, the mandates of an educational system that rushes us on express rails into the future seem to give us no pause to rest and think about who we are.
It is at this age that we begin to fall in love – over and over again. While this is obviously an expression of our growing sexual maturation, it is also an expression of our search for identity: one of the great wonders of first love is how each new man seems to help us find a new person within ourselves.
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Commented on Jul 21, 2012
So there they are in the moonlight, the boy and the girl. He assumes, poor innocent, that she feels what he does, that she has been touching herself as he has. What do young boys know of girls? With one arm around her, his other hand tentatively reaches between her legs. She recoils. She tells him he is vile. She weeps. How could he take her for that kind of girl?
After all she’s sacrificed to abide by the Nice Girl Rules, doesn’t he respect her? He is supposed to be her reward, not her persecutor. Furthermore, he has broken the romantic bubble, the lovely sense of oneness she was feeling in his arms.
He will have to pay for what he has done. If he is ever to get his arm around her again, it will be on her terms. It is the girl’s first lesson in deal making, the first inkling that the withholding of sex may be her greatest power.
On his side, the boy acknowledges that she will now decide whether or not there will be any sex. It is an abrupt reminder of the total power a woman once had over him, and while he still wants the girl, he resents the bargain bitterly. And so the groundwork is laid for the unspoken deal. Thus begins the War Between the Men and the Women.
Would any of this change if a woman grew up learning from her own body that she is a sexual person unto herself? Masturbation may not solve everything, but what better way to learn the all-important lesson in the separation and equal importance of love and sex?
Unless she was allowed to pursue the sense of ownership of her body when she was little, by the time the girl reaches adolescence she may no longer want to explore the solitary pleasure of masturbation. She is by now besotted with love/yearning/dying/sighing feelings which encompass the sexual but to her are one indistinguishable high. The idea of having sex all by herself goes against her whole life as a partner in a relationship, a role she identifies with mother, who would never masturbate. Be sexual all by herself? She’d rather die! No, it’s the boy’s role to make her sexual, bring her to life. But first, first he must make her feel loved, in love, as one with him. She wants to be Swept Away.
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Commented on Jul 21, 2012
The next point and I mentioned something about this in a previous comment is what I call the “nice girls†dilemma. This is something Nancy Friday explains extremely well. In fact most of Nancy Friday’s work is about the battle between self and the internalized mother. Here it is again from, “Women On Topâ€.
“THE NICE GIRL RULES
As for the girl being held and kissed in the moonlight, how is she to know that part of what she is feeling is sexual? Nothing has ever happened to her to help her single out, isolate the sexual feeling from all the other emotions and sensations racing through her adolescent mind and body. She has never had an erection. Her body has never signaled to her that this is sex and has nothing to do with the other emotion, romantic oneness.
Perhaps when she was little, nine or ten years old, she felt something wonderful when she put her pillow between her legs and rocked back and forth. Women often trace their first fantasies back to this time, fantasies of being captured by bad pirates, fantasies invariably rooted in ideas of wicked people making them feel the already known forbidden feelings. But no one called these feelings sexual. No one wants to think that a nine-year-old is sexual, God forbid a four-year-old, the other age to which women trace their first sexual stirrings.
The girl has no words for what she is feeling, indeed doesn’t want to know the “dirty†words, since by now she has been rewarded for being the custodian of goodness, wagging her little finger at her naughty brother. By adolescence the girl is convinced that all the sensations “down there†have to do with love.
Now when the boy kisses her, he awakens these feelings she has grown to associate with soft music, passages in romantic novels, love scenes in films. For years she and the other girls have been sitting in dark cinemas sharing a group feeling closer to a communal swoon than to sex. While the boy has been learning to be brave and independent outdoors, the girl has been inside practicing togetherness, learning to dance with other girls, rolling up one another’s hair, exploring the warm closeness of sleepovers. In these tight friendships, girls retain the symbiotic oneness they had with mother, keeping it warm, rehearsing it over and over again until boys are ready for them. And should one of these best friendships flounder, the pain of betrayal is not unlike what a child feels when abandoned by its mother.
Betrayal doesn’t teach a much-needed lesson in independence, that it is good to have a self to fall back on. What does the girl know of a separate self? All her life she has been rewarded for staying in, preserving relationships…/continue
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Commented on Jul 21, 2012
Ok, Em you say a lot here. So I will write my reply in stages. Firstly, doses first intercourse experiences for women always have to be painful? Well, no. Not at all and indeed your, Dr Roberts if he is any good as a gynaecologist should have known this. Not only was his treatment towards you not only unprofessional it was illegal. Which makes me think that either Dr Roberts is a fantasy figure and not a real Doctor or he is a “quack†who is very likely to be struck of the Doctors register.
Usually when a gynaecologist is requested by a patient to remove the hymen for painless intercourse. They use lubricant and a series of different size dildos. Starting with a small thin one getting larger and fatter. However, Beatrice here performs this task herself. Again from a Nancy Friday work, but this time from her book, “Women On Topâ€.
BEATRICE
I’m 19, a college psychology major and honor student, fairly attractive (I get a lot of second looks, whistles, and propositions) but not stunning. I plan to be a sex therapist and I’m also a feminist, but I believe men have much to gain also by pursuing equality for the sexes, and I don’t like to hurt or unfairly accuse men to help women get ahead. My friends say I’m a considerate, outgoing, sensitive person and I’d never harm anyone in reality.
In my fantasies I don’t really bring pain to my lover, I just enjoy controlling things. I’ve been masturbating since I was in training pants as a little girl, and after being taught it was a “no-no†I continued in private. I began by just rubbing my clitoris, both with my fingers and small toys, and in more recent years I began using objects for penetration. As a young girl, I remember being angry that some women experience pain during their first intercourse, until I learned that a gynecologist could cut the hymen beforehand, if necessary. Then I also read that it could be slowly and painlessly stretched by a woman herself, so I did it. I started with narrow objects (tampons) that slid up my cunt easily and progressed to larger things. I never experienced any pain. When I use objects simply for pleasure, I prefer shorter, thicker phallic shapes; I think the thickness stimulates my clit more. Plump, firm cucumbers are ideal! I guess technically I’m still a virgin because I’ve never made love to a guy before. Premarital sex is against my religion, although it’s a tough rule to stick to. When I’m married I plan to be a very active, assertive partner…
There is a lot more to her story and fantasy, but the main point I am making is that first intercourse need not be a painful experience. I could bring in many more examples if your like.
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Commented on Jul 21, 2012
It's a good thing to see that your dad is taking care of you with that gift as you take care of him.hope the school problem will be fixed because it's an important part of your life.hope the pills will work!
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