The Eisenhain Incident – The Second Incident

Sarah Eisenhain had sobbed herself to sleep, her terrified whimpers muffled into her pillow and her door locked and bolted shut. What if her father tried to come for her? What if he came to her room and raped her vaginally? Gone to the extent of full, complete coitus?

That night, every little creak, groan and tap made by their house made her flinch and try to hide. Every cough, every sleep-induced mumble, every-sigh of pleasure from Miss Little’s room as she no doubt played with herself as was custom. Every night Sarah heard the same sounds from her room, which was right next to her own; she sometimes wished she could actually see what Miss was doing, to see for her own eyes what method of touching, what tool caused her to forget her silence, or be unable to control it.
When sleep finally found her, her dreams were recollections of the night’s events, vivid and as real as she could remember to experience them – but deviating from history none-the-less. It was a sexual dream, of love-making with James on the back porch and being forced to use her mouth on her father’s member in the library; the thick taste of sperm was stuck in her mind, yet she couldn’t remember having it before. In fact, she was quite certain she hadn’t.
After hours, she woke. The air was cool, and she could see the moon light through her curtains. It was still before dawn, lest she slept through an entire day without anyone taking notice of her. That was impossible – so night It was still. She stared up at her ceiling for a moment, the clouds painted there upon light blue when she was but a little girl; they took shapes of smiling faces and a prince and his princess dancing for the sun.
She had such a dream not 12 hours ago, but now that was taken from her and she rolled to her side to hide from the paint she now hated.

But why were her bedsheets wet? Damp, cold, she shifted her leg to feel them, then found her hand trailing down to check. There was no distasteful smell of urine when she brought her finger back to her nose after checking, so she concluded it had to have been something else. Her hand went back down to the sheets, following the dampness up past her thighs and to its source… A sensitive, moistened mound drenched in her own lubricant. Her lips had parted and puffed outwards like a balloon, and when her fingertip ran over her clitoris she accidentally released a loud, pleasant sigh.
She bit down upon her bottom lip and lay her head back against her pillow; soft hair under her arms and shoulders and sprawled out above her like a mess of tree branches. Without realizing it, or particularly willing it, she found herself touching it again. Cautious pokes became prods, prods became flicks and rubs…
It wasn’t long until she was masturbating. Her thighs had spread under her sheets and both of her hands were down between her legs, while upper arms pushed her breasts together and touched each of her pink, erect nipples touched like gentle lovers. Her left hand spread the lips of her mound, while two fingers of her right teased her hole and rubbed up and down the wet, sloppy flesh with vigor. Her clitoris was teased by her thumb, and soon a third finger joined to lightly press against her unbroken hymen, finding its way in through the gap that was there.
“Oh god..” She moaned breathlessly; hearing only the squelching of her cunt and feeling only the burning of an intense orgasm building up like a spark on dry tinder. “Don’t stop… Please don’t stop…” Her voice was soft, but her tone seductive and full of want. Was it herself she ordered, or the fictional partner whom she saw pushing his hips up and down between her thighs, his hard, erect penis ravaging the inside of her womb and filling her with seed?
She only stopped her uncontrollable cries and squeaks of pleasure when the floorboard outside of her bedroom door creaked, and whoever stood behind it stopped moving. Suddenly, Sarah was terrified again, her hand lingering against her mound but not daring to move – not daring to risk a single sound as long as he was out there.
She knew without a doubt it was her father, for who else would have the audacity to be there, at this hour? To linger outside her door and quietly listen as she touched herself? Hey eyes moved to the door handle, then watched as it was slowly turned down only to hit the bolt she had pressed across in order to lock it shut before she went to bed.

“I told you Sarah, you’ll always need me,” she heard. Why was she hearing it again, after so long?

“No, I don’t need you!” She whispered harshly. “Go away!”
“He can’t get in, Sarah. Continue touching yourself; let him hear. Who cares what he thinks? Let him hear that you’re not afraid of him.”
… Sarah stopped breathing for a moment, until she found the strength to rub herself again. A point had been made there. She had to show her father she wasn’t afraid and she knew that if she did, he would hate it. She couldn’t let him feed on her fear, her vulnerability. She had to rise above that… And right now, the best way to do that was to bring herself to orgasm while her daddy could listen to every sound.
She moved her fingers again, sliding through the wet flesh of her lips and forcing the heel of her hand down on her clitoris as she began to rub with more fury. It wasn’t long until a moan escaped her mouth, one that was louder than anything she had released before her father had been there. One that teased him with her sexuality, knowing he could do nothing on the other side of that bolted door.
“Are you touching yourself, honey?” Whispered the male’s voice. Sarah froze for a moment, her heart skipping a beat in surprise. But she ignored him, and soon went back to her masturbation. Another moan left her throat, a honeyed sound that could drive any man insane with lust.
“Are you thinking about daddy’s big cock when you touch yourself, Sarah?” The whisper asked again.
“No..” Sarah replied, breathlessly. “Not yours. Never yours!” But she couldn’t help it. The feeling of the hard penis against her rear from the previous night, the groaning as he came. The dirty whispers that broke all social taboos, urging her to continue as he listened to his daughter do something that no father should ever hear.
“I know you liked it, darling. I know you had an orgasm too. Keep touching yourself, daughter; imagine it’s me you’re lying with tonight. Imagine my big.. Hard.. Cock.. Fucking furiously into your soaking cunt, burning with pleasure.”

His dirty words were driving her over the edge. Soon she couldn’t help but whimper, “oh daddy..!” As a finger entered her hole and began to push further inside. “Daddy, please stop..” She begged. Was she fantasizing, however, or was she asking him to stop talking to her through the door?

“That’s it, baby. I want you to cum on daddy’s big cock. Cum while It’s inside you and feel my thick, white seed pouring into your womb..!” The man groaned from outside the door. No doubt he was pleasing himself to; but it wasn’t his groan that pushed Sarah over the edge, it was the talk of his seed.
Sarah came. Hard. She lost control of her legs as they buckled and spasmed under the weight of her powerful orgasm, and her vagina pulsed and contracted around her finger to try and keep the foreign object inside. But as she held onto this orgasm, her hand did not stop moving; loud slopping sounds were audible beyond the room as she furiously continued to fuck her pussy with soaking fingers, the feeling of her own lubricants welling up inside her squelching around her fingers as she moaned and panted uncontrollably, crying out for her father with every few thrusts.
When her second orgasm came, she had no choice but to tear her fingers out of her sopping hole and arch her back up as hard as she could. “Ohhhh… Dadddyyyyyyyyy! Fuuuuuuck meee daddyyyy!” She screamed, as the well of lubricants exploded from her pussy, wetting the bed sheets under her and causing a single, powerful squirt of pussy-juices to fire out across the room.
When it was finally over, she collapsed on her back, breathing heavily and barely able to move. Oh god… What had she just done? But she was too tired to answer her own question… She heard her father move away from the door as she finally fell to sleep.