and the child will learn about it in due time. It is a measure of the strength of the taboo, against incest, however, that few of the parents who do recognize the need for open discussion and explanation of sexual matters would dream of warning their children against incest.
Incest is simply not mentioned in our society. But it exists, and this refusal to admit its existence seems especially disturbing when considered alongside the following statement by Wayland Young: It is clear that brother-sister incest happens mainly in families where no one has got around to telling the children they shouldn't do it.
If one can imagine a situation where no one tells the children anything at all about what they should and shouldn't do, and where, the school does not either, it is easy to imagine that there would be little against incest.
It would be hard to find a more accurate description of the home-situation that led to Pearl's incest with her older brother.
As she has mentioned, Pearl was never allowed to forget that day she was discovered in incestuous intercourse. Her father constantly berated her for it. He falsely accused her of sexual promiscuity with boys her own age. And he had driven from their home the only member of the family toward whom she had felt any affection… her brother Clay.
Pearl had once felt no emotion for her father; now she both hated and despised him, and his actions convinced her that he felt the same toward her. She began to change.
When her mother and father harangued her before a neighboring couple for the 'sin' she had committed, her interlude with Clay became a matter of common knowledge; and so, of course, did the reason for his departure. This made her an object of scorn and ridicule among girls her own age, a sexual target for boys, and was the greatest reason behind the sudden charge in her character.
The sexual promiscuity of which she had been accused soon became fact.
Sensing that her father was far more concerned with the 'shame' she had brought upon the family than he was with her welfare, Pearl used her sexual looseness as a weapon with which she could strike back at him for the constant beatings she suffered at his hands. She saw that the destruction of her own reputation hurt him far worse than it did her (in her own eyes, at least), and she used it against him.
While it may be that Pearl was convinced of the 'sinfulness' of the act she had committed, and was subconsciously punishing herself by degrading herself sexually and encouraging further punishment from her father, it is also true that she soon recognized the frustrated sexual desires hidden behind the sadistic actions of her father.
'The biological significance of it (sadism) seems to lie in the need for overcoming the resistance of the sexual object by means other than the process of wooing,' Freud once wrote. Although Pearl would have been the last to think of it in such terms, she did see that her father was struggling, at times, with his own sexual desires.
When Pearl realized that her father wanted her just as badly as Clay had wanted her, but was terrified at the thought of acting on his desires, she lost all fear of him. She began to torment him by openly flaunting her sexuality, by taunting him with the open revelation of sexual escapades, some real, some imagined.
Though this infuriated her father, the beatings were made bearable by the knowledge that he was suffering the pain of his frustration. Besides, the beatings came anyway, submissive though she might be.
Then came the day when Pearl realized she was capable of inflicting the ultimate in pain, shame and humiliation on the father she hated; she needed only to entangle him in the same web of incest which had caused him to treat her so cruelly.
In the conclusion of this case, Pearl tells how she came to realize this and how it was accomplished.
Pa was half slumbering there on the straw beside me, sleepin' it off like a lot of older fellows do after they've had themselves a little. Takes them a while to get it back up. I lifted his soft pecker with my hand, let it fall back between his legs. He opened his eyes, looking at me with a mean glare.
'Can't you get no lead in your pencil, Pa?' I asked, getting up on my knees beside him and bending over so that my big knockers hung down through the wide opening at the front of my unbuttoned dress. I looked mockingly down at his limp peter. 'Thought you was a real stud. Thought you could ride a girl raw-assed. Looks to me like you ain't nothin' but a one-shot pistol,' I laughed.
'I doubt the man was ever born could give you enough,' he said hatefully. 'But just you wait…'
'Ain't no sense in waitin,' I said, knowing I had to keep him here a good while longer. I had to keep him here until everything fell into place. 'I reckon maybe you could get it up if I sucked you off a little. You reckon so?' I said.
'So you're that, too,' he said, like he was talking about a murderer or something. But I felt his pecker swelling a little as he spat, 'A filthy cocksucker! You've gotten that low!'
'Ain't nothin' filthy about it… unless maybe it's your pecker,' I threw right back at him. I noticed he wasn't exactly fightin' to get away. 'You gonna tell me Ma don't never suck it a little…'
'Keep her name out of your filthy mouth!' he snapped, and I just smiled real easy at him as I bent low over his pecker and said, 'I ain't no filthier'n you, Pa. Remember? Me, you and Clay, we're all in the same boat. Or should I say family? And this…' I kissed his pecker, '… this is just a little fun among kinfolk.'
Before he had a chance to do any more arguing, I lifted his pecker and put the head of it between my lips. That stopped anything he might've meant to say. He just choked on his words as his pecker began slowly losing its softness in my mouth. I made myself imagine that it was the pecker of another man — any man but him — and that made it easier and more fun to give him a good and proper blow-job.
I sure as hell wouldn't kiss him on the lips, but kissing and sucking on his pecker was different. It was part of what I was doing to him. I made the most of it.
With his dick all soft and shrunk down like it was, I was able to get most all of it in my mouth. I used my lips to make a soft cushion over my teeth, so they wouldn't scrape him, and then I just opened wide and gobbled down on his pecker. It had a little hardness in it, and more getting there all the time, and that kept me from bein' able to put it all in my mouth; besides, even soft, it was a pretty good-sized dick.
But I managed to take it down far enough into my mouth that the tip of it was poking me right near my throat, and then I just eased my way back up his prod, keeping my lips around it like a tight little hairless cunt and sucking so hard on it that I tasted a little come being oozed into my mouth. That went right on down my throat.
His pecker was hard as a rock by the time I'd gone down on it and sucked my way back up for the third time, and I could feel his hands pawing me all over. One of them was under me, holding tight to the soft white flesh of my naked tit, and the other one was between my legs, up on my cunt.
He had tossed the skirt of my dress up over my ass, leaving me stark naked down there, and his hand was rubbing away at my cunt. He'd bruised me up pretty good with the hard way he'd put the pecker to me earlier, but his hand felt surprisingly good as it rubbed across the lips of my cunt. I opened my legs for him.
My cunt was damp inside and out from the come he'd dumped in me, and from the steam I was working up as I mouthed his pecker, and I reckon that's what all at once gave me the idea of wanting him to eat my cunt. Damn…! What an idea!
'A filthy cocksucker!' he had called me, and maybe I was. But what would that make him if he ate my cunt? If he ate it now, while it was still full of his own come… what would that make him? I didn't know, but I knew he'd remember it every time he thought of me. He'd remember the taste of sticky flesh. The taste of his own cock, maybe, and he'd be too ashamed to even think of me as a filthy cocksucker!
But he had to do it without me asking. It would be better that way. He'd have only himself to blame whenever he remembered the way he'd sucked at my cunt and tasted the thick cream from his own pecker, the way he'd licked and sucked at my cunt and went after…
As I sucked at his rock-hard pecker, I felt myself getting hot and horny just from the thought of having him stick his tongue up my cunt… up the wet cunt he was rubbing. But I wasn't going to ask.
I didn't have to. I'd learned from experience what most men will do when they're having their pecker sucked, especially if a girl has enough brains to make it a little easier for them. So I just made it a little easier for Pa to eat my cunt.
I just shifted myself around, like I was trying to find a position that would make it easier for me to suck him off, and then I just lifted one leg and threw it across him, so I was straddling him with my cunt right above his
