Wanda's story, that her father was a man for whom these taboos against oralism and analism did not exist. His sexual desires tended toward the exotic and the bizarre, as shown by his voyeuristic enjoyment of her sexual exhibition, his collection of erotica. It is certain that Wanda's father had practiced — or had the desire to practice — both oral and anal intercourse long before he committed incest with his daughter. It is just as certain that he would have found an outlet for these sexual desires even if his daughter had been unwilling to provide one.
As for Wanda, any revulsion or disgust she may have felt while engaging in these acts — and she says little that would indicate she suffered from such feelings — was far outweighed by the knowledge that her participation in these acts was a weapon which could be used in her battle to regain the full affections of her father. If the taboos against oral and anal intercourse existed at all within the mind of Wanda, they existed only as rules which could be brushed aside in the name of expediency.
As a matter of fact, it may be that a great majority of our society no longer recognizes the taboo against oralism, and that analism, more repugnant to some because of the excretory functions of the anus, is gaining wider acceptance. A myth has contributed much to the stronger taboo against analism; this is the widespread belief that it is the means of intercourse used by male homosexuals, the act of inverts. Freud was aware of the absurdity of this notion. He wrote:
The playing of a sexual part by the mucous membrane of the anus is by no means limited to men. On the contrary, it seems that paedecatio with a male owes its origin to an analogy with a similar act performed with a woman; while mutual masturbation is the sexual aim most often found in intercourse between inverts.
As for oralism, Freud wrote:
It is only in the rarest instances that the physical valuation that is set on the sexual object, as being the goal of the sexual instinct, stops short at its genitals. The appreciation extends to the whole body of the sexual object and tends to involve every sensation derived from it… The sexual over-valuation is something that cannot be easily reconciled with a restriction of the sexual aim to union of the actual genitals and it helps to turn activities connected with other parts of the body into sexual aims.
What Freud seems to be saying in this quote, even though he often referred to oral-genital contact as a 'perversion', is that all of us have within us the desire for oral contact with the genitals of the person chosen as our sexual partner, or 'object', as Freud called it.
Oralism and analism are of secondary interest to this study of daughter-father incest, of course, and are mentioned here only because they were the methods of sexual contact employed by Wanda and her father.
Oral and anal intercourse, it seems reasonable to conclude, occur in incestuous relationships with a frequency that is neither greater, nor less than in other sexual unions. The oralism and the analism are not the factors which motivate the incest — from Wanda's viewpoint, at least, in this case — but are a means of consummating it. The desire to commit incest would remain, even if both daughter and father were nauseated by the thought of oral and anal intercourse.
In this case, Wanda had made of her father an idol… an idol with feet of clay. It is known by psychologists that we tend to make of our childhood a peaceful memory into which we can at times retreat, thus escaping the frustrations we face, and that we people this memory with false images of our parents.
Of this false memory Freud said, 'It seems that childhood is not the blissful idyll into which we later distort it, that, on the contrary, children are lashed through the years of childhood by the wish to become big and imitate and compete with the grown-ups.'
So it was that Wanda blamed her stepmother for the destruction of this 'blissful idyll' and for the loss of her father's affection.
And how much easier it would be for a child to compete with a woman whom she disliked. It was this instinctive desire to compete, a desire which Wanda recognized as she reached her early teens, that led to the first incestuous union between daughter and father.
Though Wanda readily and openly recognized this need to compete, she was slower in realizing that she desired to compete sexually, and it was only after a great deal of mental struggle that she reached the decision that was to lead her into the sexual relationship with her father.
As I turned the cock-like vibrator slowly over and over in my hand, looking at it through eyes that were heavy with sleep, I found myself remembering the first time I'd seen it. That night, almost six months ago, had changed my life.
I'd been in bed, half asleep, when I heard them arguing in their room, really going at it, and I laughed to myself as I slipped on a robe and crept quietly through the house to listen. I was hoping he'd knock the old bitch's teeth out, I guess.
I stopped at the dark little alcove in the hallway, where I could see through the half-opened door to their room. Their lights were on, and I could see my father sitting on the bed. He had on a pair of white shorts, nothing else. Faye was out of sight.
'You get more… more freakish every week,' I heard her say in that shrill voice that always scrapes across my nerves. 'I never know what kind of perverted thing you'll dream up next. Well, this one's too much, Press. I won't do it.'
'Perverted, my aching ass!' he said loudly. His face was a dark red. 'Anything except a straight fuck is perverted to a cold old bitch like you. You think that cunt of yours is a Goddamned prize or something!'
Faye stepped out where I could see her. She was naked except for a pair of pale blue panties, and I could see the dark hair of her cunt through them. Her tits were little, far smaller than mine, and I wondered what my father had ever seen in her. Then I noticed the object she held in her hand.
'I've done a lot… a lot of things to keep you happy,' she said. 'But I won't lower myself by inserting this… thing into myself while you watch.' She looked sourly down at the tube in her hand.
I had just a brief glimpse of it before she threw it on the bed and said, 'If you can't do it without things like that, we'll just not do it at all.' She stepped out of sight again.
'You can't even call it what it is, can you, you cold-assed cunt? You can't even say fucking, can you?' he shouted.
'Well, I'll tell you why I need a show, 'cause fucking you is like sticking it in a dead mule, that's why!'
I knew that she'd soon be coming out of their bedroom after a remark like that, so I went quickly back to my own room and got in bed. Then I thought about what I'd seen. Even then, I knew that he'd wanted Faye to fuck herself with the tube I'd seen her holding. I didn't know exactly what it was, of course, and I really wasn't too concerned with that. I just wondered why she wouldn't do it.
Didn't she know how lucky she was to have a man like my father? Didn't she know most women would be happy to do anything for a man like that? Or didn't she even care? Maybe the tube could hurt a woman's pussy in some way, I thought. Just before I dropped off to sleep, I decided to find out for myself.
I got my chance the next time the two of them left the house together. It took me almost an hour to find it. It was hidden in a box in their closet, a box that was almost filled with pictures of men and women sucking each other off, fucking in ways I'd never seen. I sat on their bed and looked at the cylinder.
It was molded in the shape of a cock, maybe eight inches long, with one end swelling outward in imitation of a head. The other end had a ridged base. I turned it. A humming sound came from inside it, my fingers were tickled by a steady vibration. It felt… good…!
It would feel good inside a pussy, vibrating against the wetly clinging flesh, too, I realized, and I knew that my father had been right when he said Faye was nothing but a cold-assed bitch! There was no other reason. God! How I hated that woman!
Any other woman would be glad to… to so even the things the men and women were doing in the glossy photos I'd scattered around the bed. They'd be glad to fuck themselves off with the singing cock I held in my hand… if only to please him.
I'd be glad to do it, I was suddenly thinking.
And I found myself wondering how it would be… standing naked in front of him and doing it to myself — no, not doing it, as Faye called it — fucking myself and watching him get hotter and hotter and then…
Sprawling back on the bed with my legs over the side, I lifted my ass and pulled my skirt up around my waist. With the fingers of my left hand, I held the crotch of my panties aside, and with my right hand I touched the vibrator to the lips of my pussy. I closed my eyes, lifted my hips slightly, and moaned as the quivering prick slid home. I soon had myself coming.
Not until I'd slipped the vibrator from my cunt, wiped it on my skirt, turned off its batteries and was getting
