The heavy manila folder holds little clue as to why the
woman is there. The curator leafs through dry statistics of
Name, age, sex, height, weight, the fact that the woman had
a child, probably at only ten years old. Each dry dusty
page telling of treatments and mild incidents. None of them
being serious enough to be a clue as to why she is there in
the first place. Strangely, no commitment papers. Is this
one of those *political* cases you hear about, where
somebody is just made to disappear? The curator’s heart
beats faster at both the worry and the implications of the
possibility. What a bonus … a Godsend, if you will, if it
turns out to be true. A way to make her name, and get out
of this horrible place at the same time.
After going through the thick sheaf of papers, the
woman tries to stuff them back into the tan folder … only
they won’t *quite* fit back where they came from. A small
box makes a lump in the bottom, preventing the papers from
fitting inside without it being removed and replaced first.
It’s a small plastic cassette-box, with merely a case-number
on the cover, matching the case of the woman outside.
Inside is an unlabeled tape.
The curator looks around and finds an old, heavy tape
deck, almost the size of a breadbox in the corner, and hauls
it out. Surprisingly, the old dinosaur still works without
shredding the fragile tape. She grabs a hot cup of coffee
before settling down to listen to the aged record.
A <Klunk!> A hiss, and then a male voice speaks
haltingly; somewhat garbled by the wrinkling of the first
part of the tape.
“Case number seventy-two-twenty-three,” says the voice.
“Maria … Jones, since she won’t tell her last name. The
girl was found in the ruins, clutching her year-old
daughter, with both children VERY dehydrated and long past
memory of food.
“This tape is being recorded to show the judge and
those who might follow why this poor young woman *must* be
committed to a hospital for the Criminally Insane, and never
EVER be released. After you hear it, you too will
understand the danger. Even at only eleven years old, the
girl is far too convincing to be allowed out in the General
Public.”
For a second, the curator’s anger flares. She *knew*
this was a political case! This will make her career for
certain. That Poor Woman!
“The following is a direct transcript the girl agreed
to, telling her story, when asked about her father, her
family, and most-importantly, her sex life before the
collapse.”
Sex-life? Collapse? Family? What have THEY to do
with why a young woman is effectively imprisoned-for-life in
a mental institution? For a minute the woman’s anger flares
and then dies again as the tape hisses, crackles and pops;
until eventually the voice of a child speaks up clearly;
hesitant at first, then firmer and stronger.

No, I never really remember the first time I had sex.
Sex was just something Dad and I did, as far back as I
remember … even further. In fact, the first time I
remember being aware of sex at all, was watching my two
brothers pork my little sister, when she was about three,
and they were about five and seven. All three kids were
having a grand time; although the boys weren’t old enough to
squirt in Lena yet. Of course, *she* enjoyed it more than
they did; having *two* hunky big brothers to fuck, while (at
the time) they only had one little sister. It would be
probably five or six years before Josh ejaculated in Momma
and then later my sisters and me; and longer than that
before Michael left his first big squirt of semen inside
Cindy’s little slit one day while the other kids were all
playing “house” with Lena playing the mom, Josh playing the
dad, and the two younger kids playing their children
watching “Mom and Dad make a baby” and then copying them.
With me being the oldest, naturally I started long
before they did; only I started with Dad, since my brothers
were either too young or hadn’t been born yet. Yes, I had
sex with Dad since I was a baby. Momma has pictures of me
sucking Dad off in the high-chair, and Dad squirting thick
gooey cum all over (and in!) my baby-vagina while I was
still in diapers. By the time I was three, out of diapers,
and the crib occupied by my little brother, I was sleeping
all the time between Momma and Dad. I understand that about
half the time Dad and Momma would make love while I watched
… and the other half Dad would make love to me instead.
I’d either suck Dad off, or he’d put his big dong up between
my legs and squirt his thick gooey cum up in and on me …
usually IN me, as he sealed his prick against my tiny hole
and ejaculated gooey gobs of cum right up inside my body,
through my still virginal hymen, so it sometimes took
*hours* to leak out afterwards.
By the time I was three or four, Dad usually managed to
get the head of his prick and probably an inch or two of the
shaft up my hole, so it wasn’t nearly so messy when he
filled my belly with his goo. By then Dad was also fucking
me in the ass; almost as often, but not much deeper.
Besides that, I usually sucked Dad off about two or three
times a day as well.
Me? No I didn’t mind it. If it made Dad feel good to
have me suck his prick or squirt his cum up inside my cunny,
then why not? It sure didn’t hurt me, it made Dad feel
good, and it sure didn’t bother Momma.
Like I said, it was seeing my little brother and sister
having sex … full vaginal intercourse, that eventually
clued me in that what Dad and I did was having sex too.
Dumb, but that’s the way it was. Before that, fucking and
sucking Dad was just something I did … something physical
no more unusual than kissing or taking a bath together.
Even there, I never realized that Dad’s kisses were anything
unusual from what most kids got, as Momma and Dad *always*
gave us kids open-mouthed kisses filled with lots of tongue.
We never realized there *was* another way to kiss, until one
of Josh’s little girlfriends said, “Gross!” when he stuck
his tongue halfway down the little girl’s throat. After
that, Mom showed us all how to do “friend” kisses to use
with non family.
Did I mind having sex with Dad? Why should I? There
wasn’t anything *wrong* with it; and it felt good. Besides,
Dad Liked getting off in me, especially once I got to be
about five or six years old and could take four or five
inches of his prick, and then later ALL of his penis up
inside my hot little hole when he ejaculated his sperm
inside me. Like I said, it felt GOOD to have Dad shaking
and shoving on top of me, while he jerked thick greasy gobs
of goo into my belly. That the semen he was squirting
inside me contained millions of the same sperm that had
created me years earlier in Momma’s tummy, just added to the
thrill; knowing Dad loved me enough to even *try* to get me
pregnant with his baby, just like he did our mother.
Of course, by then, Dad was also almost-fucking my
little sister Lena; sliding about two or three inches in and
out of the cute little fuck before squirting her tight
little ass or cunny almost as full of thick gooey cum as he
usually did in me, when he slid all the way up inside me and
ejaculated his sperm right into my womb where it belonged.
Lena liked to suck Dad off too; though (like in her cunny)
the kid couldn’t get more than a few inches into her mouth.
Still, they both had fun; and Dad seemed to like ejaculating
his sperm in the youngster’s tummy almost as much as he
liked porking me.
Even Cindy got her share from Dad, if not quite as much
as us older kids. I remember watching Dad standing by the
high-chair, his prick bulging as he sent several gobs of
sticky goo into our little sister’s mouth as the baby sucked
on the tip and barely managed to get the glans into her tiny
mouth as Dad filled her tummy with his sperm. Cindy liked
sucking Dad off as much as us older girls did.
Huh? Of *course* we liked sucking Dad off! You’d
think it was something disgusting or something, the way some
people act when it’s even mentioned. While not the greatest
tasting thing to eat or swallow, it’s not that bad either.
Mainly it’s just sticky and bland. Not my favorite food …
but not something I’d turn down if offered when hungry,
either. Oh, I wouldn’t suck Dad’s dick after it’s been in
my ass or something; but other than that, it’s not nasty, no
matter what some people say. Even after Dad has had it up
my cunny or my sister’s, for that matter, it’s not bad.
Heck, both of my sisters taste pretty good, if you ask me.
Besides having the little kid suck him off, sometimes
when Cindy was fresh from having her diaper changed, Dad
would jack-off into the little kid … sometimes even using
MY hole to get wet in, before holding his prick up against
the youngster’s tiny little cleft and then squirting great
gray gobs of sticky goo onto and into the little girl,
before closing up her diaper with his cum still filling
Cindy’s tight little slit and the diaper itself. It was so
exciting, knowing that at least *some* of Dad’s cum was
actually inside the tot’s tiny little cunny where it
belonged; as if Dad was trying to get our little sister
pregnant before her second birthday.
So, Dad and I had sex for years; oral, anal and
vaginal. After a while, my two little brothers joined in;
fucking both me, my mother, and (when they got a little
bigger) both of our little sisters too.
Didn’t I think it was wrong? What planet are you from,
anyway?
Wrong? Wrong to love my own father? OK, wrong to
*make love to my own father*? What’s the difference? I’m
sure Dad liked it just as much as I did. What’s WRONG about
sucking your father’s prick, especially if he likes it?
What’s WRONG about swallowing his cum … It’s tasty, rich
in protein, and good for you. What’s WRONG about cuddling
up with your little brother, and having his little prick
scratch the itch in your cunny? What’s WRONG about sex
anyway? Geesh!
Dad? Dad having sex with ME? What’s wrong about THAT?
What’s WRONG about your father loving you enough to do the
same things with you that he does with his wife, the one he
loves most in the world? What’s WRONG with him making you
feel good with his tongue, body, and especially his prick
inside you, warming you up and loving you in the best way
possible? Besides, how the FUCK could I ever feel it was
WRONG to love my own dad, especially since we’d been making
love practically since the day I was born?
Wrong? I’ll tell you what’s WRONG with the world.
WRONG is when a father beats his little girl, abandons her
and her mother as a baby. WRONG is when a father comes home
drunk and beats his wife. WRONG is when a father doesn’t
get enough sex, and leaves his family for another. Wrong is
when a father never gets to see his little girl naked and
feel her cunny wrapped around his prick … being forced to
leave that to some STRANGER who will never love her like he
does. WRONG is seeing your father all horny and lonely,
being forced to jack-off because your mother isn’t
available, and you’re too self-centered and selfish to give
him the relief he needs with your mouth or tight little
cunny. WRONG is never getting to go to sleep with your
father, the one who loves you most in the world, his prick
limp inside you after filling your womb with his seed.
WRONG is having to hide your love for the most important man
in your world by *pretending* you don’t want to got to bed
with or have sex with him. WRONG is spitting out cum or
making faces, when your father ejaculates in your mouth,
instead of showing your appreciation by licking your lips
and smiling as you swallow each precious drop. WRONG is
never telling your father how much you like his prick
swelling and then spurting inside you.
No, wrong is not loving your father in the most
intimate way possible; and wrong is him not showing his love
for you in the same way. All too many families break up
because of lack-of-love. How can it possibly be wrong to
touch, kiss, cuddle-with, fellate, lick, suck, and yes, have
full vaginal intercourse with those you love, and who love
you? I pity the poor girls who are forced to go through
life without once tasting the pungent flavor of their own
father’s cum; never feel his arms around them while they lie
naked in bed together, never feel his swollen prick inching
inside their bellies, and their father’s prick swelling and
pouring his love into the fertile depths of their wombs.
Most of all though, I pity those poor girls who never ever
EVER get to feel their father’s baby growing inside their
wombs; kicking and squirming their way to life inside their
bodies like they once kicked and squirmed inside their
mother. Such a sad life, both for you AND the poor father
who never once gets to feel his little girl naked next to
him in bed, her arms wrapped around him as she squirms her
tight little tunnel down on his prick, and then loves it
with her body until he finally gives her the love she wants
by pouring his seed into her womb and making a life there
that they both will love.
No, how can it even FEEL wrong? Having made love to
Dad ever since I was a baby, how could it EVER feel wrong to
me? What would feel wrong would be going to bed at night
without once feeling Dad show how much he loved me and how
much I turned him on. Not feeling Dad’s prick vibrating in
my mouth as he prepared to squirt his precious seed, so I
could taste every delicious drop. Not feeling my father
push up hard inside me, his prick stiff and swollen as he
begins flooding my insides with squirt after thick white
squirt of his precious sperm-laden cum; as my own parent
jerks and thrusts, and TRIES to plant his baby deep in my
womb. Never feeling Dad cuddled up to me from behind, as we
nap in the afternoon; his wilting prick holding his precious
seed inside me, so it doesn’t leak all over the bed. Never
watching dad show his *real* love for my little sister by
holding her, cuddling her, and then slipping his prick
inside the little kid until her belly is bulging from our
father’s penis jerking and swelling inside her tiny belly;
pumping in and out until Dad shows how much he loves my
little sister by flooding her tiny little womb with the same
precious seed he just finished ejaculating in my own tummy
not an hour earlier.
Wrong? WRONG? How can it be wrong to love your own
father? That would be like it being wrong to eat, drink, or
take a shit. (Though I understand SOME perverts even think
THAT is nasty, and try to hide such a natural thing as
eliminating your wastes. Can you *imagine*? Taking a pee,
or having to shit being NASTY? That’s almost as insane as
thinking SEX is nasty or evil!)
I’ll tell you WRONG! Wrong is seeing your father
jerking his cum into an unfeeling rag, when you *could* be
sucking his prick and tasting it yourself, or better yet
feeling it squirt up inside your cunny like a woman should.
Wrong is having to sleep alone, night after night, just
because your father feels *guilty* about giving you the sex
you so desperately need from him. Feeling guilty for doing
the most natural thing in the world? Wrong is seeing your
brother and sister fighting over a toy, when they could both
be fighting *together* to get his cum deep inside her tummy
where it belongs.
Wrong is a father sitting with his little girl on his
lap, straining to repress a hard-on, when he *could* be
making both of them feel good by sliding it up inside his
daughter’s tight little hole, where it will make *both* of
them feel good, and relieve the pressure in his balls by
emptying his seed into her waiting young womb. Wrong is
acting disgusted when your little brother peeks in on you
taking a bath, instead of inviting the kid in to feel you
up, and later join you in bed so you can relieve his sexual
curiosity the right way … by fucking him, like a sister
should. Wrong is fighting, fighting, FIGHTING your
sexuality by wearing ugly clothes around your parents, so
they won’t feel obligated to give you what you *really* want
… a belly full of your own father’s prick and thick white
semen filled with his virile sperm. Wrong is never being
allowed to suck your father’s prick, just because you want
to, it tastes good, and most-of-all, because you know your
father likes it. Wrong is never feeling your father or
mother licking you “down there” because some idiot in a
pulpit thinks it’s “nasty” and “against nature”, instead of
being the most natural thing in the world for parent and
child to snuggle up in bed together and make love with
mouths, cunnies, pricks, or even assholes. Wrong is never
feeling your father sliding his prick inside you, just
because he knows you’re horny and need a good fuck. Wrong
is never EVER feeling your father’s prick swelling inside
you after a deliciously long screw, then bursting with the
precious squirts of your own father’s potent seed jetting
into your belly when you’re between periods, fertile, and
your developing body needs sex the most.
Having a baby? What’s wrong with having a baby? Oh
… You mean having one by my *father*, as if that was
something to be avoided? For God’s sakes, WHY? Dad loved
me, I loved Dad … Why *shouldn’t* we have a baby together?
It’s not as though I planned to *marry* my own father or
anything. Having a baby is just the natural result of
having sex; and I certainly wasn’t going to stop loving Dad,
just because my body was getting ripe to have a child of my
own! When I do get married (probably in a year or two) I’ll
just expect my husband to take care of our little girl like
Dad took care of me all these years. At the time he first
knocked me up, I certainly didn’t even *think* of avoiding
sex with Dad, to avoid getting pregnant. If anything,
thinking about it, I *wanted” to have my father’s kid in my
belly. And, I’m pretty sure Dad wanted the same thing.
When I was nine, about four months after I had my first
period and had three more, Mom decided it was time us kids
got a little more “formal” sex-education, so us girls
(especially me) didn’t get pregnant “by accident”. Well, it
certainly wouldn’t be by accident after *that* lesson!
Momma got all of us kids in the big bedroom, and explained
how girls like me (and eventually both of my little sisters)
produced an egg each month, and if it didn’t get fertilized
by having a man pump his sperm in the girl’s belly, her body
shed the egg that month in a bloody-looking “period” and the
girl’s body then got ready so (with luck) she could get
pregnant the next month.
THEN, Momma told how (again, with luck) I could be
ovulating *right then*, and had Dad get on top of me, slide
his prick up inside my cunny, and ejaculate his sperm-filled
cum inside my vagina, so we could all see *exactly* how a
man planted his baby in a little girl (me). After that
demonstration of baby-making, Momma made Dad promise to fuck
me and ejaculate his sperm in me every day, so I could feel
(and they could see) what it was like to have a real MAN get
me pregnant with his babies.
Yes, Momma *wanted* Dad to get me pregnant. In fact,
she made Dad and both my two brothers *promise* to fuck, cum
in, and get all three of us girls pregnant with their babies
as often as they could … and they did.
By that time, Dad was already fucking Lena properly;
having full vaginal intercourse with our little sister;
sliding his swollen prick to the hilt in the little girl and
ejaculating his sperm all the way up in her tummy, as Dad
*tried* to get her pregnant years before she ever started
ovulating.
Of course, Cindy had to outdo both of us older girls.
I remember watching Dad fuck her and cum in her vagina when
she was only eight months’ old; somehow managing to get
almost an inch and a half of our father’s thick prick inside
her tiny little slot, while Dad jerked, thrust, and filled
our little sister’s baby cunny with thick squirts of sticky
white baby-juice. By the time she was three, Dad was
fucking the little kid properly. We would all gather around
and watch as Dad had our little sister on the couch; sliding
his dick almost all the way up into the little kid until
Cindy’s tummy was all swollen from Dad’s prick bulging and
then squirting inside her. Then, while Momma encouraged
him, Dad would fill our little sister’s tummy with thick
heavy gobs of incestuous cum, just like he did with us older
girls; actually *trying* to get our little sister pregnant
with his baby at least two whole years before she ever
started kindergarten. But then, Momma says Dad had done
something similar with *me* when I was her age and even
before. Only I was just too young at the time to remember
it. <Sigh.>
What MORE could a little girl ask, than to be raised in
a truly loving household than that? One where not only her
own brothers love her enough to have sex with her every day
when her body is developing and she needs sex the most, but
her own FATHER is willing to fuck her, cum in her, and get
her pregnant with his babies, just like he does (did) her
own mother? No wonder I love my dad so much. I understand
(now) that not many little girls have parents that will do
that for their kids. Can you see why I love to have my
father squirt his cum down my throat or up my cunny so much?
To me, having almost continuous oral, anal, and vaginal sex,
almost from the day I was born until I had my own kid at a
little over ten years old, *at the time*; with Dad
ejaculating his cum down my throat, up my ass, and into my
developing vagina almost every day, was just the normal life
I thought *all* kids had, instead of only a precious few
like my brothers, sisters, and I did.
God, I was SO lucky!
I feel sorry for you people. How incredibly sad for
you. You say you have a son and daughter yourself? How sad
for them too.
It makes me weep for a father who never learns how much
his little girl really loves him, by feeling her body
wrapped around his, her tight little cunny squeezing the
precious fluid from his body into hers.
It makes me weep to think of a daughter who never will
know the true love of her father. Never to feel his body
next to hers, his thick member inside her body, spurting
love into the very center of her soul. A child who will
grow up unloved and forced out in the world to learn a sad
travesty of it from some stranger. A girl who never gets to
feel the child of their love beating it’s way to life in her
body, in the most intimate act of love a father and daughter
can have.
I weep to think of a child who will never sit on her
grandfather’s lap, his staff of love buried deep in her
body; filling her with the love that only a grandparent can
have for a little girl.
I weep to think of a grandfather, never to feel his
granddaughter’s tight little cunny sliding down his prick
and then sitting there loving him in the way only a
granddaughter can, until he erupts in thick white squirts
into his little girl’s womb.
I weep to think of a brother and sister, never to know
the true love of Family; instead squabbling over toys and
fighting, rather than enjoying each other’s body the way
nature intended. To be a little girl, NEVER going to sleep
with her brother’s prick buried in her tight little slit,
still leaking brotherly cum into her body. To be a boy,
never to feel his sister wrapped around his penis as they go
to sleep at night, cuddled up in the love for each other
that only siblings can know. To never feel your brother’s
prick spurting thin boy-cum in your mouth; never to taste
your brother’s seed; never to feel his penis in your bum,
and never ever to know the ultimate joy of feeling his baby
growing inside you. It makes me cry.
I cannot help but cry, thinking of whole generations of
daughters who will never know how much their fathers truly
love them. Of parents who never will share with their
children the love that only a parent can share with a child
… of mating and yes, having sex with them. Little boys
who will never share their beds with their mothers, girls
who never will feel the joy of sleeping with their father,
his thick prick leaking precious sperm in their bellies
after a bout of loving sex that only a father and daughter
can share.
Yes, I weep for you … You and those people out there
you call, “Normal Society” who never will know what true
love and happiness are, all because of an incredibly STUPID
taboo against the most common and natural love there ever
could be … that of a parent for a child and child for its
family. Stupid, stupid, STUPID taboo!

The rest of the tape is filled with hisses and pops,
and a quiet sobbing until it stops with a jerk at the end.
The young curator, now weeping herself, pops the plastic
item out of the deck and replaces it in the manila folder.
The woman remembers a study in college, where a
professor had studied memes; and had started an experiment
with his class. For several weeks he bullied and pushed his
class into being a cohesive whole that also bullied and
rejected any difference. The students were taught pride-of-
class, and to look down on lesser people who didn’t have the
same values. Class attendance SOARED over the next few
weeks, as the professor taught the class the values and
methods … of fascism. He was absolutely astounded and
dismayed at how fast and furious the class grew in size,
with hundreds of students fighting to join the class, and
for the class itself to accept the idea of looking down on a
stranger, putting class goals above self, and valuing *only*
what one could do for those on the inside. When, after
several weeks ended, the professor revealed that he was
merely giving the class a demonstration of memes and their
power, in this case of fascism, there was almost a riot.
Thoughts and beliefs ARE dangerous … especially when
tightly held and obviously believed by the person doing the
telling. This country has a grand and glorious history of
allowing *all* people to speak out and spread their beliefs
far and wide. Communists and Nazi thugs both are allowed to
proselytize. The KKK is allowed to hold marches in the
streets of Missouri, and the Sons of the Reverend Sun Yung
Moon are allowed to sell flowers and recruit cult members on
the Streets of San Francisco. All allowed, and none
suppressed, in the name of “Freedom of speech” and “Freedom
of Religion” the basic freedoms to speak up and push *your*
beliefs onto others, to *talk* and tell why your method-of-
life is better.
However, *some* beliefs and lifestyles are still
vigorously suppressed, even in the USA. Some are public,
like the Mormon Polygamy … and some so violently opposed
by Society that they aren’t named or even allowed to be
spoken *about*. Dangerous beliefs that could destroy
Society as it now is, if a True Believer was allowed to
speak up and convince others of the Truth of his or her
convictions. But then … Who is to say such a new society
might not be better than the horror we now live in? Also,
the world and United States are not the same places they
were thirty, twenty, or even ten years ago, either.
Then the curator stares blindly out the window, past
and through the woman whose case she had worried about
earlier; having not the slightest idea of what she *is*
going to do; the filing cabinet remaining open by her side
as she almost forgets it’s there; a cold cup of coffee
remaining forlorn and undrunk on the almost bare surface of
the big desk.