I cinched my thighs together, uncomfortable at the rampaging stickiness creaming between my legs. I didn't understand why it kept happening ever since I'd reached my late teens.
We'd discussed how my body was changing – oh, yes – but he didn't explain why.
And I couldn't explain the raw, animal-like desire to throw myself at Daddy's body. I needed him to cover me, tear apart my last few clothes, and then...what?
I didn't know. I looked through the nighttime haze in my bedroom, broken only by a tiny nightlight with a purple angel cover on it.
Daddy threw his arm around me. I flinched, coming apart at this new, mysterious touch.
Muscles deep inside me puckered. More sultry wetness steamed out my sex, urgent and hot as napalm.
I focused to see him and finally caught the light. Daddy stared at me, but not with the steely care and love I'd known a thousand times.
Who was this man laying next to me? Who was I? What kind of sinister magic was taking over our bodies, changing our eyes and setting our nerves on fire?
Worst of all, I couldn't resist it any longer. My dream melted into nightmarish heaven. And I loved every taboo second...
I splayed my fingers on his broad chest and moaned. Daddy's breath lowered to a growl, and his hands swept to my back, rolling me on top of him.
“Don't be afraid, little girl. You're just doing what comes naturally – and so am I. Daddy needs to teach you everything about this world. Consider this your final lesson – your most important lesson – long overdue. But not for a second longer.”
My hips ground against his crotch. Fire exploded deep in my throat, all I could do to weather the embers blazing inside me, shifting my flesh apart and turning me to pliant ashes.
“Daddy,” I whispered, scared and excited as my lips fell to his.
We kissed. His lightning zapped through me, merciless and pleasurable.
The energy cracked at my spine and radiated through my body, overwhelming as a bomb going off. The explosion exiled me from my pleasant dreams.
I lurched awake, eyes wide and rolling.
Morning had broken. I smacked my small lips and sat up, rubbing my eyes as brilliant gold sunlight streamed through the curtains.
“Oh, no,” I moaned, my hand brushing my inner thigh.
It was wet and coated in something sticky and pungent like sap. It wasn't the first time either. It had started with the dreams not long after I'd reached fifteen.
Now, I was eighteen years old, a newly minted woman. I expected to mature and become the kind of lady Daddy wouldn't be afraid to take out in society.
Instead, I'd lost control over my base functions, wetting myself and having strange dreams – nightmares? – about the man who had given me everything. Except this wetness wasn't pee.
I didn't understand what it was. I ran to the bathroom, stripped off my nightclothes, and began to wash.
The shower comforted me, as much as it could with the night fever surging through my veins. I turned my back to the spigot and let the coolness waterfall across my naked flesh, rolling down my spine and shapely hams to the drain.
I just don't understand why this keeps happening. I must be sick in body or mind – or maybe both.
Despite the urge to seek answers, I didn't dare tell Daddy. He was ground zero for every nightmare, the dreams where we became strange monsters together, craving flesh with an impure bite that simply wouldn't let up.
I dried myself off, slipped on my dress, and gazed at my reflection as the hair dryer churned. I was plain, but beautiful.
Daddy had trumpeted natural beauty ever since I was a girl. He forbid me from wearing makeup.
It wasn't easy looking at my dolled up cousins every time we had a family reunion, but now I smiled. A girl who'd filled in with supple curves stared back, easy on the palate without any extra dressing.
He was right. I really looked better without any artificial glamor covering up my body.
But beautiful for who? For what purpose?
Odd questions gnawed at me that morning as I made my way downstairs. I smiled as soon as I saw him sitting at the breakfast table, a big mug of pitch black coffee in his hand and a newspaper spread out along the table.
“Good morning, darling. Let's pray and dig into our food.”
I took my spot, stomach growling as I inhaled the scrumptious plate of bacon and eggs below. Daddy bowed his head in unison with me and raised his eyes up at the ceiling.
“Lord, bless this day we're about to begin. You, who care for your sons and daughters like they're your own children. Please help my beautiful daughter find her way in this world.
“She's reached the age where everything is vibrant and new, and every choice she makes now will surely impact the rest of her days. Please give me your guidance to aim her, my precious angel, all that I have in the world since Sally died – God rest her soul. Please let my daughter and myself become one with you, and one with Nature. Amen.”
I opened my eyes, flushed and saddened at his mention of my mother. She'd died just a couple years after they were married. My biological father was a mystery who was never discussed.
“Are you okay, Daddy?” I looked up, eyes wet and worried. Whenever Mom weighed on his mind, I knew he was fighting hard to keep up his familiar composure.
“I'll be fine. It's late summer, Abby. Just the time of year when I think about her the most. She would've loved a day like this – bright and beautiful without too much heat.” He sipped his coffee and smiled. “I know that you love it too.”
I grinned, digging into my food. We stared across the table, wordlessly soothing the emotions flickering through us.
But at the moment, Daddy seemed more distant than ever before. It must've been because of my impure thoughts about him.
For weeks, the dreams had grown in frequency, and the embarrassing mornings along with them. For now, there wasn't a thing I could do about it.
“Maybe it would be good for us to get out of here before winter falls,” he said, his strong face lined with thought.
“I've been thinking a lot about Pastor Grantham's work in Brazil. There's another session coming next year. Ministering to the natives, supporting their houses – you know, all the good things God intended.”
My fork clattered to the plate. Heart pounding, I searched for words. They came out in a whisper.
“Does this mean...you're leaving?”
“Not without you, darling.” His eyes widened with surprise. “Oh, Abby, I wouldn't abandon you again like that business trip I took years ago. Thank God we've been blessed with enough money to put those years behind us. If I go, you're coming with me.”
My throat tightened. I couldn't speak, and my knees turned to jelly.
The shocked weakness didn't keep me from wanting to leap up and punch the air, jumping like a new pup who'd learned a few tricks.
“Oh my God!” I clapped one hand over my mouth, remembering not to swear. “I've never been anywhere before...never outside this town. Not since that trip to Mount Rushmore when Mom was with us.”
Daddy laughed. He forgave my little slip and reached across the table.
“Our regular lessons are done. But I've picked up some interesting literature about the Amazon I'd like you to read if you get a chance today. If we're going, we need to know as much about the natives as possible. Remember, we're there to help these stricken peoples, not to mess around on the beach or sip smoothies on the beach.”
I nodded enthusiastically. Suddenly, I had an urge to abandon breakfast and go tearing into our library nook. I'd devour everything I could find it if brought us one day closer to the airport.
“Finish up, Abby. Just because you're an adult doesn't mean I want you getting too skinny. Summer time is always the worst for you.”
He knew me well. How many summers had I skipped meals, too lost in my reading or my Spanish lessons?
Daddy was on me like a hawk whenever I got too skinny. He looked after me better th
an I did myself, protecting my girlish figure all these years, until I blossomed into a full figured woman.
I had the right curves everywhere. The kind he'd shown me in Renaissance paintings and old statues, long before the “glamor whores” had taken over the feminine mystique.
“It'll be just like all the other summers, Daddy! To be honest, I was getting a little bored with Bible studies and chores. There hasn't been much to do since you took me for my GED exam.”
“Yes, and you performed wonderfully. I put a lot of hard work into giving you a sharp mind, Abby. Education doesn't stop now that you're eighteen. We're not sending you to college to be corrupted with the other kids, but you need to keep feeding your mind if you want it to stay keen.”
I shook my head. The idea of sharing a dorm with strangers and dealing with Professors who might flunk me if I stepped out of line horrified me.
Maybe I wasn't very adventurous, but the unknown repelled me. I wanted nothing to do with new places and new people, if they took me further away from my loving father.
I needed Daddy's company, his wisdom and love, more than anything else.
He bid me well and left the table, embarking to town for several hours to take care of our finances.
I'd never known anything except a fairly well heeled life, all thanks to a successful lead generation business owned by Daddy. He'd sold it to a buyer with big pockets the summer before.
Now, there was nothing to do but shuffle around his investments, giving us enough to live on. Supposedly for the rest of our lives, or so he said.
I never understood how he'd managed to build his business and sell it for such a massive profit. Homeschooling me was a full time job.
For so many years, I'd taken my lessons from Daddy and a handful of private instructors – no one else. As soon as I had our plates and glasses in the dishwasher, I raided the shelves, ravenous to check out the books and magazines he'd piled up on our reading table.
By noon, I'd flipped through several hardbacks. They were filled with maps, amazing animals, and cruel histories about the tribes that lived deep in the jungle.
I smiled as I read. The summer had been a blur since it was the first one without any school.
It was a struggle to keep busy – especially without a job and few close friends. The handful of girls Daddy allowed me to visit irregularly were off to summer jobs and pre-college courses.
But now – now! – I'd found my fire again. I powered through the first few books, absorbing everything I could. Then I came to the magazines.
They were old, yellow journals that looked like they'd come right out of an antique stand. Smiling men and women stood next to tall trees sprouting crazy growths, primordial leaves as big as kitchen tables.
Everyone was completely naked. I blushed and giggled as I flipped through the first few pages, my eyes lingering a little longer on the lean native men than they should.
When I hit page ten, I spread the magazine wide in my fingers and peered down. I saw...well, just then, I didn't know exactly what I was looking at.
Breeding the next generation of Savash people. A ritual, the caption read.
Above it, there was a black and white photo of a dozen naked men and women in a large hut.
The women lay flat on the ground with their legs splayed open. The men were on top of them, as if they were wrestling together or something.
But I'd never heard of girls and boys wrestling naked. These adult natives had their most private parts shoved together in the most obscene ways.
I gasped, staring closer, marveling at the way the men's huge roots anchored so deep in the wet, upturned slits of their partners. That damned heat I'd struggled to get rid of earlier in the morning returned.
I'd never seen naked people outside art before. Pornography was the dirtiest of words, spoken by Daddy exactly twice in my eighteen years, and always with the highest scorn.
He told me it involved naked, sinful people doing terrible things to each other. Then again, what I saw in the pictures didn't look so terrible – not when I imagined the feel of tongues, fingers, and thick erections between my thighs.
I knew it was wrong to feel the slippery heat beneath my belly as I flipped through the pages. I shouldn't have let my eyes grow so wide and curious. And I certainly shouldn't have sensed the brutal longing humming in my veins.
Most of all, I shouldn't have kept going. But my wicked, wicked fingers just wouldn't stop, and neither would my prying eyes.
I paged forward, staring at men with huge penises. Sometimes they were in the mouths of their partners, or sandwiched snug between their breasts.
Most of all, I saw the Savash men buried deep inside their women, leaving nothing to the imagination except the thick, milky deposits that remained in new pictures after their flaccid penises were withdrawn.
I wondered what it was. Could men do more than piss out of that part? Could they produce thick, hot cream, just like me?
The forbidden photographic fruit had me so engrossed that time slipped away. Inch by inch, nervous fingers wandered up my bare thigh, closer to my sopping wet panties, delirious and wild with the primal ache I'd only known before in dreams.
The garage door leading into the house popped open. I foolishly hurled the magazine across the room.
I screamed like a crazy woman, shaking out all my limbs and fixing the hem of my dress, as if that alone would break the spell, or at least keep it hidden from Daddy.
No such luck. I was halfway across the room to pick up the fallen journal when I heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs.
“Abby? What's going on down here?”
I froze. His eyes were vivid and uncertain in his tight face. He stared at me for a couple seconds, and then followed the trail to the heap on the floor.
Daddy grabbed the journal by its upturned spine and flattened it back together in his hands. Beneath his creased brow, I could practically hear the thunder building in his brain, his blood, perhaps his hand.
Oh, God, I hope I'm too old for a spanking. He hasn't done that in years. Please, Daddy, I didn't mean to!
I closed my eyes, unable to face him. It was only when I sensed him moving toward me that I opened them again.
“Abby, it's okay. I didn't know what I'd brought you had...this kind of content. I apologize for the indiscretion.”
I stopped, trying to make sense of his unexpected words. “But why, Daddy? This is all wrong. I should be apologizing to you for seeing something as strange and impure as this. I'm so, so sorry for feeling the way I did about it too...”
“No. No, this is all my doing. If I'd completed my lesson plans without burying the obvious about your own body, you wouldn't be this scared.”
He shook his head. I wanted to reach out and wrap my long hands around his shoulders, giving ourselves over to the mutual comfort in our bodies, but I hesitated.
Despite my terror, the nagging fire inside me hadn't died. Actually, it felt hotter than ever before, rising like a pyre as evil thoughts about Daddy and I returned.
Oh, no. Not now! Why can't I shut my brain off?
“There are things I haven't told you about life, Abby. And now that we're going away and you're a grown woman...maybe it's time.”
“What is it, Daddy? What would you like me to do?”
“Meet me downstairs after dinner tonight, right in the old guest room where we used to have your lessons. I've got a lot to tell you. You're so young, so beautiful, Abby. It's only right to help you explore the wonder your body was designed for. I have to teach you about breeding.”
My lips pursed. A strange wave ran through my body, almost like it knew all about what he'd said already, a deep, dark knowledge I'd been born with and struggled to remember all my life.
Daddy slipped past me and retreated upstairs. Before he went, he pushed the magazine into my hands, nodding gently.
He'd given me the go ahead to keep looking. The itchy feeling at my core wanted to continue, but I was too weir
ded out and uncertain about what was going to happen to us next.
There was only one thing to do in that moment of doubt – the only thing I'd been trained to do since Daddy adopted me and came into my life. I went to the corner and began to pray.
Lord, this is your will. Let it be clear to me.
Whatever forbidden knowledge Daddy is about to give me, let me face it with a kind and open heart. He's the man I love and respect most in this world. Give me strength to do his bidding.
If it's your will, let me serve Daddy exactly as he needs, no matter how strange and fearful. Amen.
II: Carnal Wisdom
We ate a simple meal of steak and potatoes in near silence. Daddy and I talked sparingly about everything we needed to make our trip to Brazil a success.
The whole time, I wedged my feet together beneath the table, letting my thighs compress. Every time the soft flesh there touched, the energy returned, hot and sticky and evilly addictive.
Hurry up, Daddy. Give me your plate.
“Please load the dishwasher and come down. I'll be ready for you.” Daddy smiled, strong and wide enough to hold up the world.
For a second, it seemed like everything had returned to normal. But the mystery in his voice and the smoldering excitement inside me said otherwise.
I quickly tidied up and paused outside the kitchen, listening to the stillness in our nice, large, quiet house. The odd energy inside me seemed to charge the whole atmosphere, as if the hallways had come alive with a thousand invisible fireflies.
I went to him, unsure why I tip-toed so cautiously. The guest room door was shut when I reached it. I held my breath and knocked.
Daddy's voice came through distorted, instructing me to come in. He'd changed into something more casual – a tight gray t-shirt like the kind he ran and slept in.
“Sit right here, next to me, Abby. I have a film set up for us. I'll explain everything as it goes along.” He patted the bed, only removing his hand when I sauntered over and planted my bottom next to him on the small bed.
“What you're about to see is going to be strange and possibly a little scary. Just stick hold tight, and it'll all make sense.”
Taboo Greatest Hits, vol 2 Page 3