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The following is a transcript of a fifty year-old reel-to-reel tape I found in the basement of an old house I was renovating. It was among some others of off-key school band concerts and a graduation commencement speech given by an articulate high school girl. I couldn’t tell her name, as the introduction was obscured by applause and a train horn. The speaker of the monologue here is male, middle-aged, and has a heavy, north Jersey-sounding accent in contrast to the emotional nature of his narrative. His voice does go an octave higher when quoting his daughter. It’s not known who his audience was, possibly a ‘true crime’ pulp sleaze publisher. There are no proper names mentioned.
[Rustling noise, a glass clanking, tapping on the microphone]
“I jus’ gotta tell somebody this, or I’m gonna bust. I don’t know if youse can use this for ya magazine or not. I knows I’m goin’ ta hell for what I’m doin’…very sick things …I just can’t help myself.”
[Soft sobbing, sniffling and throat clearing]
“My little princess, it was just the two of us for a long time, ya see, her mutha died, and my baby got put in that hospital. I visited whenevah I could. Finally they sent her home, walkin’ on those crutches, but really walkin’, more than she could do before she got sick. I guess her growth was stunted by the years of sickness. But it didn’t stop her one bit. Smartest one in her class, she was. She showed ’em all. She was all smiles, up there at that podium, givin’ her gradua-shun speech. I was so proud. Just the tiniest, most pretty little thing just like her mutha, a dark Tuscan beauty. “
[Deep breath and sigh, the sound of sipping liquid]
“I musta cleaned the house three times before she came home. I painted a bedroom for her, pink like the one she had when she was little. I was glad when I got the letter that the state was not lettin’ her stay at that home for disabled children any longer, since she wasn’t a minor no more. I was happy she was comin’ to live here, but I was a little scared. A boy, sure, we could go to the fights or a ball game, but I didn’t know how to keep a girl entertained. I did ask the ladies at church, and they said she should learn cookin’ and sewin’. Things I knew nothin’ about, other than heatin’ a can of beans. They gave me some donated dresses and stuff for her, since I ain’t rich.
So’s I got her moved in. I guess all this is my fault, ’cause I was stoo-pid and didn’t shut my bedroom door one mornin’. Habit after livin’ alone so many years.”
I was naked in my room, gettin’ ready to showah for mass, and turned to see my daughta, leanin’ on her crutches in the hall with her eyes wide and jaw open. Had WCBS radio on so didn’t hear her comin’. I could tell she had seen my swingin’ meat, still kinda hard from wakin’up, ya know. I said good mornin’ and covered up, but it was too late I guess.
But nothin’ was said, so’s I fahgot about it. We was kinda like quiet but polite strangers for a few days, until I put on some old Frankie 45s after dinner one night. Her little face just lit up. ‘Dance with me Papa.’ she says. I was able to hold her waist high, sittin’ on one of my arms, her legs danglin’ as we spun around the livin’ room, her arms around my neck. She couldn’ta weighed more than ninety pounds. And those big brown eyes! Smilin’ like the cat who swallowed that canary, she kissed me on lips as the last song on the stack ended.”
[ Sipping liquid, ice clinking]
“The kiss was a little long for a daughta and fatha, but I didn’t think nothin’ of it at the time. I was glad she was happy livin’ here, but I wished she had a mutha to teach her things. I had a few lady friends from time to time, ya know, but most I met at bars, and they wasn’t the motherin’ type. I worked long hours. I’m what they call an ex-convict, and only a janitor at a factory, and I do odd jobs, handyman stuff, see, and didn’t have much time for dates.
It was a hot summer. One night this thunderstorm came through, loud as hell. I was on the sofa. Thunda woke me up and the TV was still on the late show. My princess came limpin’ into the room in a little nightgown, a short thin one it was, one of the donations. It was the first time I seen her like that, a woman, ya know, without a dress and ladies’ undawear and stuff.”
[ Loud sip and ice clinking, deep breath, and a sniffle]
[Pause for several seconds]
“Even with the TV the only light in the room, I couldn’t help but notice her …her little titties. They was like fat gumballs inside that nightgown, jumpin’ ’round an’ tryin’ to push their way out, it seemed like. I felt like a sick bastud for even noticin’, but she was right there close and afraid of the storm. She snuggled up next to me on the sofa, legs curled up, jumpin’ every time it thundered, grippin’ my arm. She finally fell asleep next to me after the rain and I carried her to her room, tryin’ not to look at those, um …grown up…parts of her.
The dancin’ and cuddlin’, I guess youse call it, got to be a bit of bursa escort a habit. It was really nice havin’ someone there to come home to and talk to and she’s very smart. She can talk about anything, even baseball. Then one Friday night, everything changed. We was watchin’ the late news, and my pigtailed daughta kissed me goodnight, or so’s I thought. But at the same time she grabbed my dick under my robe, outside my boxers. I jus’ couldn’t believe it! This wasn’t no accident, she was queezin’ and gropin’ it. I jumped up off the couch in shock.
I screamed and cursed at her, which I know now was the wrong thing to do. She hopped fast to her room on the crutches. She could really fly on those things when she had a mind to. My angel was cryin’ and screamin’ through the door that I didn’t think she was pretty and that I didn’t love her, which hurt to hear. If I love one thing in my miserable life, it’s her.”
[Clicking cigarette lighter sounds, coughing, sipping liquid]
“The next mornin’, I sat her down and told her that I knowed she was curious about boys, well, men, but grabbing down there was a thing fathas and daughtahs don’t do together, because it’s not God’s plan. I told her someday we would find a nice young man for her, prob’ly at church, and then they could do that after they got married. She shoulda learned all this in whatever church she had in that insta-too-shun. She pouted but seemed to agree, and things got back to normal, but only for a few days.
On the sofa durin’ Bonanza, she did it again, and damn near got her fingers into the fly of my boxer shorts. This time I yelled again, sent her to her room, and told her no TV for a week. She cried again. The next night, I had to work late, and was beat when I got home. To my surprise, she had made a nice dinner, beans and weenies and cabbage, and I ate two helpins’ and fell asleep on the sofa watchin’ TV. She was in her room bein’ punished, so’s I was thinkin’ I had solved the problem until I woke up. So help me, she was unzippin’ my work pants! I never seen such a one-track mind in a girl. I began to wonder just what kinda things she saw goin’ on at that instah-too-shun.
‘Please Papa?’ she says. I raised my hand to slap her, but then looked at her in her little plaid dress and pigtails, with those scared big brown eyes, and I just couldn’t hit her. I hadda pry her fingas off my zippa, then sent her to her room again. No TV for the rest of the month. It was July the third, so that was pretty mean, but I had to do somethin’. I was gettin’ to the enda my rope.”
[Sipping liquid, sniffling]
“I thought about takin’ her to a shrink, not that I could afford one, but they would think one or the other of us was crazy and separate us again, me going to the pokey or her to a…nuthouse. I heard that’s where they send girls with nam-full-main-ya, I think it’s called. I couldn’t see myself tellin’ this to no priest neitha. They would send her away to a convent outta state. I just got her back and liked havin’ her around. I didn’t wanna lose her again. I read my Bible, prayed and tossed and turned all night.
The next mornin’ was of course the July Fourth holiday. I slept late, ’til eight thirty, and my princess brought me the paper. She came back into the room as I was readin’, it, and sure enough, there she was again, diggin’ under the covers for my dick. I dropped the newspaper and saw she had took off her bathrobe, and was in white panties and a little girl’s white undashirt, the kind with lace straps and a tiny pink bow at the center of the front. It was easy to make out her little titties undaneath, so much that I could see them gumball nipples was dark brown, like her muthas had been…Here…is where my sins with my own flesh and blood is, where I failed. Instead of pushing her away, I just sat there and let it happen. It all started so…fast.”
“My dick was stiffenin’ itself up at the sight of her. When she let go of the crutches and climbed up on the bed and onto her knees next to my hip, I saw dark hairs was stickin’ out past her panties nearly everywheres near her crotch. Then I felt her fingers on my penis skin for the first time. Maybe she just wants to see it up close, and that’ll be all, I told myself.”
[More sobbing, whispered prayers to Saint Jude]
“She pulled it out and was squeezin’ and yankin’…more than just a look-see. I was hard from her touchin’ but we was goin’ nowheres fast. I think she was frustrated and started squeezin’ even harder.
‘I told youse fathas and daughtas don’t do this. Youse ain’t never gonna stop, are ya?’ I asked her.
‘Oh, Papa! You’re so silly!’ she says, gigglin’ and not takin’ her eyes off my meat and smilin’ wide. She never looked so happy. I guess she was crazy, my own daughta, a sex main-ee-yack. I was glad she was out of that state home before somethin’ worse happened. At least I knowed she hadn’t jerked off a dick before. She didn’t have no idea what she was doin’. It was now that I was the weakest, fallin’ into temptay-shun. My heart was racin’ in my chest.
I bursa escort bayan cursed and said, ‘If ya just got to do it, lemme show youse the right way.’ I reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out a bottle of hand lotion. I just bought my ticket straight to hell.
‘Oh Papa! Papa I love you!’ she says, almost singin’ and gave me a loud peck on the lips. Her eyes was wet with tears, but she was jumpin’ for joy. In a split second she was rubbin’ the lotion all over my dick. I remember moanin’ like a wild animal as I showed her the grip and guided her wrist up and down, it felt so good. That bottle of hand lotion was there from a previous tennant when I moved in a couple years ago. I used it for the same thing, so this was just like me jerkin’ it, but lettin’ her do it to get it out of her system, I told myself. Hopefully the mess I make at the end, ya know, would turn her off and stop her from likin’ it. But my angel seemed like she was havin’ the time of her life, smilin’ and laughin’ as she stroked my meat like a pro with both little hands. She went faster and faster, sprayin’ drops of the lotion all over the place.
Such a pretty face attached to that tiny body, and those little titties, they was now makin’ points and shakin’ like Jell-o inside the shirt. Her grip and arms was strong from usin’ the crutches since she was five. I jus’ couldn’t believe this was happening. The Devil had me enjoyin’ this sick act against nature, as they says, way too much. In no time at all it felt like my dick was goin’ to explode.”
[Ice clinking in an empty glass, sound of more liquid being poured and sipped]
“Forth of July fireworks was early that day, lemme tell ya, all white and gooey. I shot my wad a foot in the air three times and kept drainin’ more out as my little princess kept pumpin’ her arms. She squealed from surprise I think, but laughed and looked at me with the sweetest smile as I grabbed her messy arm to stop her jerkin’.
Her fingers was covered in cream sauce and her little arms halfways up to her elbows was drippin’, but she didn’t think it was disgustin’, like some dames do. ‘Wow! Papa!’ she says to me, laughin’ and pullin’ her arms away slowly, but then playin’ with the strings of goop ‘tween her fingers. Catchin’ my breath, I watched as she looked at it up close, sniffin’ it and swirlin’ some in her palm. I halfway expected her to start finger paintin’ with it, and finally she did in a way, smearin’ it on her undashirt so it wouldn’t get on her crutch handles. I don’t think she planned on so much sauce. Then she grabbed the crutches and hopped to the bathroom to wash up.
The rest of the day was completely normal, like nothin’ evah happened. We cooked out burgers and dogs, ya know, for the Forth, in the alley out back. Talked to a few of the neighbors, workin’ stiffs like me, and introduced my princess around. I wanted the local boys to know who her father was, to make ’em think twice before they picked on her for bein’ handicapped or tried any funny business. Later on the front porch we was able to see some of the city fireworks over the roofs across the street. Then we saw the TV fireworks. Humph, there was no point in takin’ away her TV now, ya see. Maybe that jerkin’ it was all she wanted, that one time, or it would only be once in a while.
My princess left the room for a few minutes to finish up some dishes, which she could do while sittin’ on a bar stool at the sink. When she came back, she brought me a couple bottles of beer and the opener. She was wearin’ a kitchen apron, another St. Michael’s donation, with a big pocket in the front, where she carried the beers. I gave her a few sips of a Ballentine and she made a face, not havin’ drunk much alco-hol before.
In a little while she pulls the second bottle from her pocket, and takes off the apron. Then I notice the other bottle was not a beer but the damn hand lotion. She held it up for me to see.
‘Please Papa? It’s so much fun to make it squirt! Can I do it again? Please?’ she asks, lookin’ at me with those brown peepers. You’d think she was asking for a dime for the ice cream truck. So much for it bein’ a once in a while thing.”
[Sipping, ice clinking]
“I know I’m going straight to hell, because I was weak and was thinkin’ like a horny man and not a decent fatha. My first sick thought was how I had been admirin’ her in that dress all day. It was red white and blue, kinda like a sailor uniform and the upper back was bare, showin’ off her olive skin tone, they call it. That dress tied in a knot behind her neck, I think they’re called haltas.
I couldn’t bring myself to actually say yes out loud, but I unbuckled my belt as she scooted up next to me on her knees, knowin’ I couldn’t say no to her.
‘My angel, youse can’t tell nobody about this! Nobody! Not even in confession! Ya understand?’ I undid my trousers and zipper.
‘Of course Papa! It’s our special secret!’ She crossed her fingers and held them up as I touched the side of her face.
‘That’s my princess.’ I told her as I pulled escort bursa out my meat, swellin’ fast. She kissed me on the lips and grabbed it.
A minute later my little daughta was rubbin’ and strokin’ me as I slouched on the sofa, moanin’ loud. When I looked at her, she was concentratin’ on her two-handed pumpin’ but grinned like she was the happiest girl in the world. That dress she was wearin’ was a bit too big, I guess, and there was nothin’ under it but her. The front fell forwards, and I saw her womanly parts for the first time, her small titty in the TV light. It was like a pitcher’s mound with a dark gumdrop nipple, bouncin’ fast as she slid her hands up and down my dick. This first look at her made me want to shoot even harder. I wanted to feel it, thumb clamp it, suck on it. Pretty soon she actually cheered ‘Yay’ as I was rainin’ on her hand and my pubes with a whole buncha crazy upward spurts. She pulled a kitchen towel out of the apron beside her for the clean up this time.
Things was pretty normal for a few days until Friday night. She hops inta the livin’ room and says ‘Dance with me Papa.’ Nothin’ unusual there, but I noticed the front of her little red polka dot dress looked like when she’s in her nightgowns, with those gumball nipples stickin’ out and bouncin’. Maybe it was on accounta the heat she was wearin’ no undawear up there, but bein’ the sorry bastud I am, I was glad I would get to watch her titties movin’ ’round. Anyways I put a Dino Martin LP record on and we was dancin’, at least our version of it, with me carryin’ my princess around on an arm, her hangin’ on my neck. Then she kisses me, long and romantic like.”
[Sudden sobbing, sniffling]
“My beautee-ful angel, I kissed back…I…”
[Sobbing, sipping liquid]
“I shoulda ended it there at a couple curious hand jobs, not made things worse. I wanted to stop her, honest, but she was lookin’ me in the eyes, so happy. We kissed for longer, sweet like, even tongues. Of course my dick is growin’ because I’m a sick man. Then after a song I look down and my princess is holding her dress up to her tummy, and she’s got no undapants on, showin’ me her..pubic…hairs.”
“‘Touch me Papa, touch me!” she says inta my ear. I shoulda ended things right then, but I was too weak to resist runnin’ my fingas through that beautee-ful dark pussy hair that I had seen peekin’ outta her panties. I got around down to her flaps, and they was big and soft, warm and damp, like she was enjoyin’ herself. So she’s still hanging on and we’re steppin’ around the livin’ room in time with the music, I’m palmin’ my own daughta’s crotch unda her dress…my angel…my princess.
She shifted her weight and was bouncin’ a little bit, and I noticed her breathin’ was heavier and warm juice was leakin’ onta the hand ‘tween her legs that was pretty much carryin’ her aroun’ the room. Her big brown eyes was misty and lookin’ me, happy but a little scared, I think. The side of the album ended and I hadn’t stacked another on the changer, so the room got quiet, except for our breathin’. I backed up to the sofa and sat down crooked with her in my lap, like a pyschot-ic department store Sant-ee Claus, but never lettin’ go of her pussy. It was like my hand was glued to it. It was now that…”
[Sobbing, short prayers]
“I went and did it. Anotha crime against nature…carnal…knowledge. I violated my princess with my finga. Hardly any room for it in there. Slippery like raw liver, and hot as a pizza oven.
‘Papa!’ she yelled, but seemed to be shorta breath. Her eyes was big. My angel then reached for my arm, I thought to pull it out, but she shoved it in all the way to my knuckle. She gripped my wrist and moved it up and down and gave me a big grin. My dick was rock hard in my pants and wanted in on the action as I finga fucked my little girl. But my meat was stayin’ put. I’m a big Goombah, with a kinda fat salami, not huge, but enough to split her in two like a wishbone if I stuck it in there. With my free hand, I rubbed her dress at her chest, finally gettin’ ta feel and tug those nipples that felt as stiff as rope knots. Every new place I touched made her make a diff’rent noise an’ changed her breathin’ Then I rubbed her clit-riss, gentle-like, slow, then fasta like I learned in my Navy days in the Orient.
My princess was helpin’ out by holding her dress up and outta the way. She started breathin’ real fast and gruntin’ like an ape. I never heard such sounds come outta such a small girl. I kept rubbin’ her, and she was sweatin’ like a pig, we both was, and she started to pull the dress off ovah her head. She had it halfway off when her little body stiffened and she climaxed, joltin’ around and gaspin’ like she been holdin’ her breath for an hour or somethin’.
She finally got the dress off the resta the way, and slumped onto the couch, lyin’ down, naked as a jay bird, legs apart. I got a nice view of her snatch, all shiny with juice. Her lips was a perfect set of prayin’ hands, but looked too big to be on her little body, like somebody slapped a full size pussy ‘tween her legs on top of a smaller one. Unda the end table lamp, this was my first time seein’ her little tits in the flesh, and they was beautee-ful, pointing at the ceiling and movin’ as she breathed.
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