Crazy Daddy

[Transgender Stories]

Crazy Daddy

by

Little Dan


I loved my father so desperately, and I hated my father so desperately
that there was only one solution. I would have to drive him insane.

This may sound ridiculous, but as far back as I can remember, I have been
sexually attracted to my father. He was like a god to me. Tall, blonde,
muscular, masculine, handsome. Everything I knew I would never be. I
longed to have my daddy sweep me up in his strong demanding arms and
carry me away. Carry me anywhere. Just carry me. Hold me. Maybe kiss
me.

But that was never going to happen. Somehow I knew early on that my
father didn't like me. That I was distasteful to him. How could that
be? I was just a little boy. He would be sitting in his big armchair,
and I would climb up onto his lap and throw my arms around his neck.

"I love you, daddy," I would say.

My father would shrink back. "Myra," he would call my mother. "Get
the kid off me, will you?"

Then my mother would come into the room, and lift me off his lap. "Come
on, Eric," she would say. Daddy's tired tonight. He had a hard day. He
wants to rest."

"Daddy," I would wail, my arms stretched out.

"Not now, Eric," he said.

The years passed, but my fascination with him, my desire for him never
did.

We hardly spoke around the house. I went to school during the day, and
he worked. And in the evening, I knew I would be better off reading in
my room than being around him. He was never loving to me. He was never
even nice to me. My mother saw this and tried to make it up to me with
special attention. But that wasn't what I wanted.

I guess I was about seven years old, when I started spying on them. I
had gone down the hall to the bathroom, and while I was walking back to
my room, I noticed loud sounds. Sounds, coming from behind their closed
bedroom door. I heard creaking, I heard the squeaking of bedsprings,
like when I jumped up and down on my bed as if it were a trampoline.
Then my mother started moaning. I had never heard a sound like that. I
was afraid she was sick. Then I heard my father, and his voice was all
choked and breathless and strange, saying crazy things like, "Take it,
bitch. Take my big cock in your hot wet pussy. Squeeze it. Make love
to it."

I didn't really know what was going on, and I was afraid to open the
door. I was not allowed in their bedroom, and I was afraid my father
would kill me if I went in.

Then I noticed the large keyhole in the bedroom door. As long as I could
remember, there had never been a key, but there was a place for one. I
knelt on the floor in front of the door and tried to peer through the
keyhole. Across the room was their bed, and they were on the bed with
their feet facing the door. My father's beautiful round behind was
there in front of my eyes. He was lying right on top of my mother, and
she had her legs bent and lifted and had locked her feet around his
waist. He was plunging an enormous long extremely thick popsicle of
flesh into a hole between her legs. And every time he raised his rear,
the thing would withdraw some and I could see it was wet and shiny. I
was fascinated now with that stiff, hard jut of flesh between my
father's legs. It was beautiful.

"Oh, honey, Yes. Yes," she cried. Give me your big thick prick.
Stuff it into the hot juicy cunt that loves it so much." He pumped away
deliciously, and she was in heaven, heaving her own ass up to meet his.
She couldn't get enough of that

"big thick prick" as she had called it. I was getting so excited, my
tongue was sticking to the roof of my mouth, and I could barely swallow.
Now I knew what I wanted. I wanted that `big stiff prick' in me. I
wanted my father on top of me, enfolding me, protecting me, kissing me,
loving me. I felt down my body, and the sad realization came to me. I
could never be where mommy was. I had no hole there. Why not? How
could life be so cruel? I had something very small like a little nubbie.
But it didn't go in. It stuck out. Like my daddy's thing stuck out. But
I didn't want to be on top of mommy. I wanted to be under daddy. And
how was this ever going to happen with the malformed body fate had given
me?

My father moved his head down to my mother's chest. "Oh those
beautiful tits. I just love tits," my father enthused, and brought his
mouth down to one of them, licking and kissing and slobbering over it.
"MMMMM," he moaned while he was sucking her big breasts, and all the
time he was flexing his waist, and his big cheeks were tensing and
relaxing, while the red wet shiny pole moved up and down, buried inside
my lucky mother.

She brought her arms down and grabbed his bouncing cheeks, pulling on
both of them to get more of his thing into her thing. He lifted his head
off her beautiful tits and plunged his tongue into her mouth. There I
was kneeling on the floor with my eye glued to a tiny hole, overcome with
longing. It was all I could do not to moan, myself. But I did have
enough sense to keep my mouth shut.

Then my father pulled his big banana out of the wet hole and moved up on
my mother's chest. He stuck it right in the middle between her two
floppy tits and started hunching again. My mother put her hands to her
breasts and began to push them together around my father's stick-thing.
"Fuck my tits, Kirk. Fuck my big soft breasts. Oh, yes, honey. You
know how to fuck a woman's tits." And after about five minutes of this
she bent her head forward to take the tip of my father's thing into her
mouth. He took the hint and moved up even further, so that he was now
straddling her beautiful tits, and began feeding himself into my
mother's mouth. She was noisily sucking on it, making joyful
appreciative sounds. "Oh, this is so good, honey. I love sucking on
your big cock," she said indistinctly as the cock plunged back into her
mouth cutting off further conversation. So that's what it was. A
cock. That was the thing I wanted so much. My father's cock.

And that hard sculptured behind that was twisting around in front of my
eyes, the cheeks, kind of opening and closing. On the opening I could
see the little hole between the cheeks. It was almost pulsating like a
star in the sky did when you looked at it too long. And then the cheeks
tightened and you couldn't see the hole, but you could see crevices
along the side of his tight circles, like big dimples. It was so
beautiful. I wanted to kiss it and lick it. I wanted to kiss and lick
his big cock. I wanted it in my mouth. I, at least, had a mouth even if
I didn't have tits, or a hole between my legs. "Oh, daddy," I sighed
to myself. How I wanted him. Now more than ever I wanted to be swept up
in his arms, and carried and kissed and loved. And somehow I wanted his
big cock inside my body.

A few nights later, my father fell asleep sitting in his big armchair,
and I had a bright idea. Gingerly, I sat down in his lap. He didn't
wake up. It was so wonderful. I could feel his lump under my behind and
I started pressing down upon it, then I started moving around a little so
that it would rub against me. Something wonderful was happening. The
lump was getting hard and starting to push against my backside. If only
I had the nerve to pull down daddy's zipper and reach in and touch it,
maybe even get it outside of his pants, maybe even put it in my mouth the
way mommy did it. My little heart was pounding. I could almost taste
daddy's big cock. In his sleep it must have been feeling good to have
me on his lap because he started moving slightly. Moving his hips up and
down under me for better contact.

Unfortunately though, then daddy started to stir. His breathing changed
a little. I sort of turned my head very slightly so I could see his face
out of the corner of my eye. His own eye was opening and he was aghast.
"Get off me, you little fairy," he screamed, and shoved me down onto
the floor.

"What's wrong?" Mother asked, running in from the kitchen, drying her
hands with a dishtowel.

"The little faggot was sitting on my lap, humping my dick with his
ass." Dick^Ů So that was another word for cock. And my behind was my
ass. It was good to know.

"Oh, that's ridiculous," my mother said. "He's just a little boy."

"A little fairy!" my father spat out. "I always knew he was."

"Kirk, really!" My mother was exasperated. She hugged me.

"A little homo," my father repeated.

My mother decided it would be wise to get me out of the room. "Come on,
sweetheart. Time for bed." She took me upstairs and made me change
into my pajamas. Then she kissed my cheek, turned out the light and shut
the door.

I was so upset, I couldn't sleep. My darling father whom I loved so
deeply absolutely detested me. I lay there in the dark, the tears
rolling down my cheeks.

It must have been around two hours later when I started hearing the
exciting noises again. I knew I should have stayed in bed, but I just
couldn't not watch the exciting scene unfolding on the other side of
their bedroom door. I crept down the hall, and, as always, knelt before
the keyhole and peeked. This was so much better than television. This
was reality.

"Tell me how much your cunt loves my hot prick," my father ordered.

"My cunt can never get enough of your thick hard hammer," my mother
screamed. `Prick'. `Cunt'. `Hammer'. What great words. I was
learning things.

The early years are the time when you want to expand your vocabulary, and
I was hungry for knowledge. But more than that I was hungry for cock. I
watched the big hammer sink into my mothers wet cunt. Up and down. Up
and down, like a piston driven by my fathers powerhouse ass. Hole,
dimples, hole, dimples. The big thick long wet shiny tool, in and out,
in and out. It all just took my breath away.

My unwanted little boy thing got hard, reminding me it was a boy thing
and not the hole I wanted. The hole where my daddy would be able to
insert his big dick, when he was lying on top of me, hugging me.

Then they did another position. My father got off, and my mother
crouched on the bed with her behind stuck out. My father knelt behind
her behind, and fed his big cock back into her hole, but this time he was
behind her and not on top of her. Interesting! I liked the other
position better because I couldn't see the hole or the dimples in his
butt this way. He was just moving his hard round behind toward her and
away from her and toward her and^ŞŮ

After that I think my daddy was getting tired. I could see he was
sweating. But he lay back on the bed with his head on the pillows, and
his big dick sticking straight up, pointing toward the ceiling, and my
mother crawled between his legs and started mouthing his cock. She was
making contented noises, like this was even better than a lemon meringue
pie. With one of her hands she held his big dick, and with the other
hand she was brushing away her hair which kept falling over her face.

"Suck it. Suck it," my father screamed. "I'm gonna come. I'm
gonna shoot my hot load in your mouth. She took her mouth off for a
second, and that's when I saw jets of white liquid shooting out from the
end of my father's prick. "Take it, bitch. Swallow it," he yelled,
and putting his hand on her head forced her mouth back down on his cock.
It looked like my father was shooting about six more hot loads which I
could see my mother was gobbling down. I could tell from the way her
throat was working.

My mother finally removed her mouth from the big dick, which was starting
to soften a little. "Oh, what sweet cum! If I had a straw, I'd slurp
it up like an ice cream soda." She really loved it. I was dying to
taste it, myself. She flopped down naked on the bed next to him, and
laid her head on his muscular blonde- hairy chest. He put his arm around
under her shoulders and stroked her gently. The way I wanted him to
stroke me.

I knew from experience that the show was now over, and I crept down the
hall back to my bed, where I finally fell asleep dreaming of his thick
wet cock plowing in and out of a wet sucking hole like my mother had, and
that I wished that I had.

As the years passed, I learned that I had to keep out of my father's
way. I just went to school, did my homework, and watched him longingly
from afar. I hardly ever spoke to him, and he hardly ever spoke to me.
He knew I was in the house, but didn't really want to acknowledge that.

Then one day something interesting happened. I was about ten at the
time, I think. I had taken a long walk to the mall to look in the store
windows, and when I was walking home, a car pulled up alongside me.

"Young man," called the driver through the window, as he stopped beside
me.

Yes?" I asked.

"Do you know where Front Street is?"

"It's right around the corner," I pointed.

"Is it? You know, I live on Front Street but I get lost so easily.
Would you mind getting in and helping me get home?"

Okay," I agreed. My mother had told me never to talk to strangers, but
he had caught me off guard by asking for my help.

I got into the car. "That way," I pointed when we got to the corner.
He turned. Then I had to tell him to take one more turn, and he pulled
up into his driveway.

"Okay?" I asked.

"You've been such a help to me, I can't tell you how much I appreciate
it." He was so nice. He was making me feel good. "Come on in and have
a root beer," he offered. "It's the least that I can do."

"Okay," I answered. And we walked up the steps, and after he had
unlocked the front door, we went in. He told me to sit on the couch, and
he went into the kitchen and came back with two large glasses of ice cold
root beer. He sat down in a chair facing the couch and smiled at me. He
wasn't a big man. Not as tall as my daddy. He had thinning black hair
with streaks of grey, and I noticed there were wiry black hairs on the
back of his hand when he handed me the soda. Now that I'm remembering, I
would say he was in his late forties. His face was dark with black
whiskers, as if he needed another shave. He was wearing blue pants, a
white dress shirt and a little red bow tie. He was pretty slim except for
a very tiny belly. He smiled at me.

"You know, you're a very handsome young man. Did anyone ever tell you
that?"

"No," I said, feeling very flattered. I was so glad I had helped this
nice man home.

"You have such beautiful skin," and he reached out and rubbed his palm
along my cheek. "So soft, so clear, so rosy. I just know you have a
beautiful body too." He furtively began to caress me. Then he said,
"Let me see your chest. Take off your shirt."

He stood by the couch and helped lift my shirt over my head. I held my
arms up. Then he started running his hands all over my chest and my
back.

"Oh, it's beautiful. I never saw a boy with such beautiful skin.
Usually only little girls have such beautiful skin. You don't mind if I
run my hands along your back and chest a little, do you?"

"No," I answered. His hand felt warm. And caressing. He was touching
me the way I always wished my father would. With affection. He sat down
on the couch next to me, and took my hand in his.

"What a beautiful little boy," he was admiring me. "Too bad you
aren't a little girl. You would be such a fantastically gorgeous little
girl."

"I would?"

"Oh, yes. Definitely," he said, nodding his head. "What's your
name?" he asked me.

"Eric," I told him.

"Such a nice name. But would you mind if I called you Erica?"

"I don't know," I hesitated. "Erica's a girl's name."

"Would you mind terribly if I pretended to myself that you were a little
girl. I love little girls so very much, and I'd like to make believe
that you were a little girl for a few minutes."

I didn't answer. "Erica, I just got a new DVD from Russia today.
It's all about a little boy like you. Would you like to see it?"

Okay," I agreed.

"By the way," he said, introducing himself. My name is Alan. You can
call me Uncle Alan."

"Okay, Uncle Alan." I agreed again. He smiled and walked across the
room to the electronic equipment. This was so wonderful. My daddy hated
me, but now I had an uncle who liked me. Uncle Alan. Of course, he
wasn't as handsome as my daddy.

He turned on the television, and put the DVD in the player and the movie
started. There was this little boy like me, all alone in a room with a
small bed and table in it. I heard a man speaking in the background to
the boy, but I couldn't understand the words. The boy nodded his head,
and began to unbutton his shirt. Then he took off his shoes and socks.
After that, he opened his belt and sitting down on the bed, took off his
pants. He was only wearing his underpants now. The off-screen voice
said something and he took off his underpants and was standing there
naked with a little teeny finger between his legs that looked like mine.
The voice said something again, and the little boy started slowly turning
around, looking back at the camera as much as possible.

Then, a hand reached into the picture and handed the boy some clothes,
and the voice said something else. The little boy put the clothes on the
bed, and picked up a small pair of silky blue panties, and stepped into
them. He turned around for the camera again. Then he strapped a little
brassiere around his chest, and it was firm and pointy. He had trouble
hitching it behind his back. Then he put on a small pink dress, and pink
socks and little red buckle shoes, and modeled them for the camera.

Suddenly a large hairy man entered the frame, wearing just his
undershorts. He was hairy all over, on his chest, his arms, his legs,
and the hair was mixed grey and black and curly like the hair on his
head. He looked very strong. He was probably in his early fifties, and
his stomach protruded a little bit over his undershorts. He sat down on
the bed next to the little boy in the pink dress. He turned the boy's
face toward him, and picked up something from the night table near the
bed. It was lipstick. He started painting the boy's mouth a bright
red. Then he took a tissue and gave it to the boy who blotted his red
lips on it. Next the man began to make up the boy's eyes till they were
all dark and beautiful with mascara and eye shadow. He surveyed the
boy's face and nodded as if in admiration. The last thing he put on the
boy was a wig with long golden curls. He fitted it on the boy's head
and pressed it into place. He made the boy stand up in front of him and
parade before the camera. Then he sat the boy down on his lap, and
lifted the boy's face, and began kissing the red lips. The boy threw
his arms around the big man's neck and held on to him, kissing him back
with ardor. You could see the cock in the man's underpants was getting
big and hard like daddy's when he got on top of mommy.

Suddenly Uncle Alan turned off the television set, and I looked at him in
surprise.

"We'll watch the rest a little later," said Uncle Alan. "Take a
drink of your soda." I took a few swallows. "Let's go up to the
bedroom," said Uncle Alan, taking my hand and leading me up the
staircase. "I have something you have to see."

We went into his bedroom, and he went over to the closet and got some
things.

"These are beautiful clothes like the boy in the movie was wearing.
You'd look so beautiful in them. Put them on."

"I don't want to," I said.

"Come on, Erica, sweetheart. You'd look so beautiful. Much more
beautiful than the boy in the movie. Everybody likes to look beautiful.
Don't you want to look beautiful?"

"Yes," I said slowly.

"Well, come on then," he laughed at me affectionately. "I'll help
you." My shirt was already off, but he sat me down on the bottom of the
bed and knelt on the floor to take off my shoes and socks. Then he made
me stand up so he could slip my pants and underpants down my legs and
off. "Oh, there's your little boy thing. We don't want to see that.
My Erica shouldn't have a little boy thing."

He handed me a small pair of shiny violet colored panties, and held my
arm as I stepped into them and pulled them over my boy thing. Then he
gave me a little violet colored padded brassiere to put on my chest,
like the boy in the movie had worn. Uncle Alan had to fasten it in the
back for me.

"There. That's better," he said approvingly. "And everything's a
perfect fit. Aren't we lucky today?" I put on a frilly violet colored
dress over the violet colored panties and brassiere, and he made me turn
around so he could examine me from every angle.

Even the socks were violet colored, and so were the shoes with the bow on
top. The shoes weren't a perfect fit, but Uncle Alan said it didn't
matter. We'd be taking them off in a few minutes. He had long yellow
hair for me to put on just like the boy in the movie. And then he began
to paint my face with great concentration. My lips, my eyes, my cheeks.
He kept turning my head in every direction to make sure it was perfect.

"Oh, that's it. You're so beautiful, Erica. So very beautiful," he
took my hand and we walked to the full length mirror on the outside of
the closet door so I could see myself. I hardly recognized myself. I
did look like a beautiful little blonde girl. Then we went back to the
bed and he sat on the side of it and took me onto his lap. He lowered
his face to mine and began kissing me. Just like I had always wanted my
daddy to do. He moaned softly and his tongue crept between my lips and
into my mouth. I could taste his spit. My heart was pounding.
Underneath my bottom, I was sitting on his lump which was getting bigger
and bigger. Yes. It was a big cock like daddy had. He rubbed his big
cock against my ass and I was liking it. Wasn't this what I had always
dreamed of?

"My beautiful little girl. My precious little Erica. I love you. I
love my beautiful little girl." He sat me on the bed and stood up and
began taking off his clothes. First, his red bow tie. Then he began to
unbutton his white shirt, the front and the cuffs, before pulling it
off. He had an undershirt on, which he pulled over his head, mussing his
hair a little. Then he sat down next to me to take off his socks and
shoes, after which he stood again and took off his blue pants. Now he
was standing there in just his underpants. And I could really see the
big cock pushing against the fabric. He sat on the bed again and pulled
me back on his lap so we could do some more kissing. I threw my arms
around his neck, and I rubbed my face against his scratchy whiskers. It
was a thrilling feeling. I was very excited.

He took my hand down and placed it in his now naked lap. "This is my
big cock," said Uncle Alan. "Isn't it big?"

"Yes," I said. (It was, but it certainly wasn't as big as daddy's)

"Isn't it hard?"

"Yes," I said, feeling it all around. I finally had a big cock in my
hand. It almost overpowered me.

"Do you know what a man does with a big cock?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

He was surprised. He had expected me to say no. "Tell me what a man
does with his big cock," he said.

"He puts in into mommy," I answered.

Uncle Alan started laughing. "You silly thing. Not just into mommy.
Into any girl. And aren't you Uncle Alan's beautiful little girl,
now?"

"Yes," I agreed in anticipation.

"Well, wouldn't you like me to put my big cock into you?" And he
started kissing me again.

"Yes," I said. I was so curious about how he planned to put his big
cock into me. I didn't have a hole between my legs. I had always wanted
a big cock in me. But I didn't have a hole where it would fit. How was
Uncle Alan going to put his big cock in me?

He kissed me a little more, and then began taking off my frilly violet
dress. Then he took off my shoes and socks. I was so glad to get those
uncomfortable shoes off my feet. He said he wasn't going to take off my
panties, because he didn't want to see my boy thing. He would just move
them aside when he put his big cock into me. I nodded, feeling sure that
he knew what he was doing, and that I was in good hands.

He went over to the top dresser drawer and came back with a big tube. He
squeezed something on his finger, and then he made me lie on my tummy so
he wouldn't have to see my boy thing. He eased my panties down in the
back, and stuck his greasy finger between my two behinds. He worked his
finger into my back hole. So that's how you could do it. Now I knew.
I was so happy to know there was a way to be inside me, because I was
determined that one day I would get my daddy's big cock to be inside
me. And my daddy's big cock was bigger than anybody's. And my daddy
was more handsome than anybody. And I loved my daddy more than anybody,
no matter how he felt about me.

Uncle Alan squeezed more jelly from the tube, and began working his
fingers in and out between my two behinds. At first it had been a little
uncomfortable, but now I was really liking it. It was such a nice
feeling. After a long time using his hand, Uncle Alan put some grease on
his big cock and climbed on top of me. At last I had a man on top of me.
He stuck his big cock into my hole. It was hurting, and I groaned, and
he started patting my blonde curls, and kissing my cheek. "Now, now,
Erica, my little angel. It's only going to hurt for a minute. It always
hurts for a minute the first time you have a big cock inside you. But
then it's going to feel so nice. You're going to thank Uncle Alan.
You're going to kiss Uncle Alan. You're going to love Uncle Alan."
And while he was talking, he was distracting me from the pain and then
sneakily, I felt his big cock sinking all the way in inside me. And I
could feel the tickly black hairs around his big cock scratching against
my two behinds, as I was feeling his whiskers on my face, when he put his
tongue back in my mouth.

Then Uncle Alan was moving up and down slowly on top of me, and I wanted
to scream in delight, the way mommy screamed. Now I knew what mommy was
screaming about. What a feeling. Lucky mommy, who got this feeling
every night. I really felt cheated by my mean daddy.

"You like it, honey?" asked Uncle Alan, already knowing I did.

"Yes."

"Do you want me to take my big cock out of your ass?"

"No," I pleaded. "Don't take it out." He had no intention of taking
it out. He was just teasing me. He kept moving up and down soooo slowly
on top of me. Sooo gently.

"Oh, my beautiful little girl," he crooned. "My beautiful little
Erica."

I was enjoying it so much, that my ass, as he had called it, started
taking on a life of it's own. It wanted his cock a lot.

"Oh, Uncle Alan," I moaned. "Your big cock feels so good."

"I know it does, honey," he said. "Do you know what we're doing? Do
you know what this is called?"

"No," I admitted.

"This is called fucking. I'm fucking you," he explained.

Fucking," I repeated. I liked the word. Uncle Alan was fucking me.

"Uncle Alan is fucking his sweetheart little girl, Erica," as he spoke
he was getting more and more excited. I kept hearing the words
`fucking,' and `cock,' and `ass', and `Erica, sweetheart', and he
was starting to move up and down much faster, and he was banging into my
ass, and then he gave a roar, and I could feel his big cock get even
bigger in my ass, and then some hot wet stuff shot out. I knew what that
stuff was. I had seen it shoot out of my daddy. It was that white big
cock stuff that shot out when a man was fucking.

Uncle Alan collapsed on my back, huffing and puffing, and kissing me long
and slowly, moaning all the time. "Oh, that was so sweet, honey. Such
a sweet fuck.

I'd like to do this every day. Wouldn't you?"

"Yes," I said. "You could fuck me every day."

Uncle Alan took off my blonde curls, and we went into the bathroom, where
he gently scrubbed the colors off my face till it was fresh and clean,
and nobody would ever know that my face had been painted. Then I took
off the violet panties facing away from Uncle Alan so he wouldn't have
to see my boy thing. Then he helped me take off the brassiere, before
helping me to get dressed.

"You could come over every day after school," he said. "Would you
like that?"

"Yes," I said.

"Now remember. This is between you and me. I won't say a word to
anybody and you won't say a word to anybody. This is our hush-hush
secret, okay?"

"Okay," I agreed. And when he opened the front door and I stepped out
onto the porch, he reminded me, "Now don't forget. We have a date
tomorrow. After school you come right over here. Got it?"

Yes," I smiled happily.

And I came over the next day after school, and was Erica again for an
hour. And I came every other school day after school for years. It
wasn't as if the other boys wanted to play with me after school. They
kind of shied away from me, like there was something funny about me. The
acted like my daddy. So I was lonely and I was glad Uncle Alan wanted to
be with me every day. I liked having company. I liked being hugged and
kissed, and I liked feeling like I was Uncle Alan's precious little
girl. Being Erica was so much nicer than being Eric.

Since I kept growing, Uncle Alan was always having to buy me new clothes.

"I hate that you're getting bigger," he would complain. "You were
such a beautiful little girl. I don't know why you couldn't have
stayed that way forever."

Meanwhile I had stopped going to the barber. I was letting my brown hair
grow long and flowing like mommy's. And nowadays a lot of boys have
long hair, so it wasn't such a big deal. I think daddy didn't like it,
but he didn't say anything except mumble `faggot', whatever that
meant.

One afternoon I went over to Uncle Alan's and I got the shock of my
life. Uncle Alan took me into the living room and introduced me to a new
little girl named Maxine. Uncle Alan explained that her original name
had been Max, but that now she was this beautiful perfect little girl,
and had to have a real girl's name. He sat down on the couch and lifted
Maxine, who was a lot younger and smaller than me onto his lap. He
started to hug and kiss her, and she put her arms around his neck and
kissed him right back. Actually Maxine was about the same age as I used
to be.

"Thanks so much for coming over," said Uncle Alan. "And I hope we'll
see each other again real soon." He led me out onto the porch and waved
to me as I started to walk home. Then he went back in the house to
Maxine, and before closing the door behind him, yelled "Get a shave."

I was crushed. I was heartbroken. I thought that Uncle Alan was going
to be my uncle for ever and always. And now it was over. I was
completely alone. I had no one's big cock to put in my asshole. I
started to cry a little. Why couldn't my father put his big cock in me
and hug me and kiss me the way Uncle Alan had all these years. He was
the one I really loved, the one I really wanted my whole life long. How
could he not love me back? I did have a hole he could fuck. Why
wouldn't he use it? I sobbed all the way back to the house, where I ran
upstairs and closed myself in my room. My mother was busy making fudge
in the kitchen, and was too busy beating eggs to notice me.

The years dragged by. I finished high school and enrolled in the Fashion
Academy where I studied interior decorating for four years. I grew a
beard and a moustache and wore my long hair in a ponytail. I was still
living at home, and at dinnertime my mother would try to make
conversation, asking about my classes, and I would happily discuss
antique furniture and oriental rugs while my father stared down fixedly
at his plate and mechanically kept eating. He was still so handsome.
But no! I had to get that out of my mind! I was just so horny all the
time. I hadn't had a big cock up my ass for years now, and I missed it.
And the man I yearned for, my daddy, wouldn't even look at me across the
dinner table.

*
* *

I had graduated from the Academy a month earlier, and was trying to find
a job as an assistant to one of the local decorators, when a terrible
thing happened.

I lost my dear mother. She had been driving to the supermarket, when
another car went speeding through a stop sign and crashed into the
driver's side of her automobile. It was instantaneous.

My father was hysterical. He couldn't even handle the funeral
arrangements. I had to do everything. He was unraveling. His mind
became totally unfocused. I had to cook dinner and clean the house, and
do the laundry, etc. etc.. He was even starting to drink. He started
buying bottles of scotch, and guzzling them down, and he was so unsteady
on his feet that I had to help him up the stairs at night. His breath
reeked.

When I got him up to his bedroom, sometimes he would say to me, "Thanks,
Myra." He didn't even know who I was. He thought I was my mother.
That's when I got the fiendish idea. I would drive him insane, and
punish him for all the years of misery I had endured because of him. His
coldness. His ridicule. Now it would be my turn.

I contacted Gerry, (not a friend), but someone who had been in my class
at the

Academy. He had majored in theatrical sound and lighting design. I told
him I was planning a fright-night party and paid him to wire the whole
house for me.

I didn't really have much money of my own, so every night I would steal
some out of daddy's wallet when he was asleep, till I accumulated a
decent amount. I would see daddy counting his money every morning and
looking puzzled.

Gerry worked while daddy was at work, and I had him install all the
control boxes low and behind furniture, so daddy wouldn't discover them.

Meanwhile I had been rummaging through mommy's old things in her closet
and drawers and dressing table. I stealthily removed what I thought I
might need, and hid it in my own closet.

I began to put my plan into action. While daddy was sitting in the living
room watching television, I sneaked down the steps, opened the front door
quietly, and reached my hand around to press the button that would
activate the door chimes. As they were ringing I quickly walked into the
living room and plopped into a chair to watch TV.

"Get the front door," daddy said, very annoyed at my lack of
initiative.

"Why?"

"Someone's at the front door."

"No they're not," I said.

"The bell just rang," he insisted.

"No, it didn't," I replied.

"Yes, it did.'

"No, it didn't."

"Never mind," he said angrily getting up from the couch. "I'll get
it myself."

I followed him as he walked to the front door and opened it. Of course,
no one was there.

"There's no one here," He wondered.

"I told you."

"But I heard the bell."

"No you didn't. You're imagining things." I laughed at him. He
started shaking his head in confusion.

About an hour later, while we were watching "Wheel of Fortune," and my
father decided that if it were his turn, he would buy a vowel, I said to
him. "Get the phone."

He looked at me as if I were crazy. "Get the phone? What the hell are
you talking about?

"It's ringing."

"No, it's not.

"It's ringing right this very second."

"What? Are you crazy?" The phone is not ringing."

As he made no move to answer the ringing telephone, I got up and picked
up the receiver, myself. "Oh, hi," I said to the dial tone. "This is
he," I smiled, nodding my head. "No. I'm not finished with it yet.
I'll bring it back on Thursday. Bye." I hung up the phone.

"There was a call?" he asked miserably.

"It was the library. I have a book overdue. I told them I'd bring it
back on Thursday."

"I heard that," he said coldly. "But I didn't hear the phone ring."

"You'd better get your hearing checked, daddy," I advised. "You hear
the doorbell when nobody's there. You don't hear the telephone. I
don't know." I shook my head in exasperation.

He didn't answer me. He turned his face away and went back to Wheel of
Fortune, inwardly seething.

In the next few weeks, the doorbell rang continuously. The phone never
rang, even though I got a million calls. I could see daddy wanted to
pick up the phone and check it out for himself, but I was always ready
and got there first.

Daddy did stop drinking, but strange things continued to happen. Daddy
was constantly misplacing things. His cufflinks were gone, but when I
went to look in his dresser drawer, myself, I miraculously found them.
Then he couldn't find his toothbrush which was sitting right there in
the cup "staring him in the face," I insisted, when I went into the
bathroom and found it immediately.

Then there was the time he wanted to read the newspaper, and couldn't
find his reading glasses, when they were right there in front of him on
the coffee table where I had just put them after surreptitiously sneaking
them out of my pants pocket.

"You're really losing it," I observed in a cold but pitying voice.
When I handed daddy his glasses, he started to cry. By this time I think
he was pretty certain he was losing his mind.

Some people might think that these were dastardly deeds I was doing.
That I was one hell of a mean motherfucker. But just think of how that
man had treated me my whole life long, when I had loved him so. An
unrequited love. I didn't feel the least bit sorry.

And what I had done so far was nothing. Just a little big of preparation
for the grand event I had in mind. I had devised the most diabolical
plan imaginable, and was about to put it into action.

I had heard on the weather report that we were going to have a terrible
thunder storm that night, so after dinner I told daddy I was going to
stay with a friend, (What friend? I didn't have any friends.) and I
would be out all night. I left the house. Later on, as the clouds were
gathering, I could see through the window that daddy was watching
television. I sneaked back into the house and up the stairs. In my
bathroom, I shaved off my moustache and beard, until my face was smooth
as a baby's ass. I looked at myself in the mirror. I really did look a
lot like mommy. I never realized how much.

Then I went into my bedroom, and quietly shut the door. I took off my
clothes. I took off everything. I stepped into a pair of mommy's
panties, which I had taken out of her drawer earlier. Next I put on a
large padded brassiere which I had bought downtown, to give the illusion
of being busty. I squeezed my new tits approvingly. After that, I put
on mommy's garter belt, and some shiny sheer nylon hose, and attached
the tops of the stockings to the garter belt. Then I put on mommy's
beautiful form-fitting black dress which fit my form perfectly. I took
the rubber band off my pony tail and flipped out my long brown hair,
which I now began to brush assiduously. Then I combed it out until it
fell luxuriously over my shoulders, just slightly curling at the ends.

I used mommy's expensive pancake make-up to cover my face, and gave my
cheeks just a hint of blush with mommy's rouge. Her lipstick color was
`Embarrassingly Red' red, and I applied it generously. Then I blotted
my lips and began pursing and unpursing them before the mirror, admiring
my artwork. When I did my eyes with mommy's mascara and deep blue eye
shadow, I studied them critically. Not even Picasso could have done
better. I was absolutely stunning. I looked like mommy but I was much
more beautiful, and of course I was younger. Gorgeous! Where had I been
all my life?

The final touch was the little pearl clip-on earrings. Thank goodness
mommy had never had her ears pierced. I stood up and primped before the
looking glass. I was ready for my big performance. Wait. Just a slight
spray of `Breathtaking' eau de toilette, and then I put on a pair of
mommy's high heels (which were a little narrow), and silently and
carefully (hoping not to trip) descended the stairs. The thunder storm
was really blowing up outside now. The perfect setting for my little
charade. I saw a flash of lightening through the window, and then came a
clap of thunder. The gods were busy tonight, and so was I.

I could see daddy watching television in the living room, and knew now
was the time. I pressed a button that Gerry had installed in the hall,
and in about five seconds the house went completely dark. Pitch black.
"What the^ſ" my father said.

I took advantage of the darkness to quietly feel my way down to the far
end of the living room where I struck a seductive pose. Then the
light-sound show began. There was a bright flash of lightening followed
by a loud clap of thunder right there in the living room.

In the split second that the lightening illuminated the room, my father
saw me out of the corner of his eye. He spun his head around and his
mouth fell open in shock.

"Myra," he said in amazement.

I said nothing. I changed to another seductive pose and waited for the
next lightening flash. It came. "Myra," my father said again, and
stood up by his chair. It went dark again, and I repositioned myself. I
hoped he wasn't going to try to come over. It was to be a visual
illusion. A ghostly apparition. I didn't want him to be able to put his
hands on solid flesh. Also I was in high heels and couldn't run very
easily.

He just stood there, his mouth gaping and his arms outstretched on the
next five flashes. The sound of thunder was deafening. So deafening
that I wasn't aware he had crossed the room in the darkness. Suddenly I
felt his hands grasping my arms. "Oh, no!" I sucked in my breath in
surprise. I had been so stupid. Why hadn't I changed my location in
the room after each flash?

"Myra," My father said.

"Kirk," I breathed, imitating my mother's voice as well as I could.
And I don't think it was too bad.

"You're here. I thought I was going crazy, but you're really here."

"I missed you. I couldn't stay away from you," I answered. He hugged
me closely and started to breathe in the sweet miasma of `Breathtaking'
which covered and surrounded me. Suddenly he glued his lips to mine and
began to frantically kiss me. His tongue deliriously snaked between my
lips, and I immediately began to savor it. We were Frenching like
crazy. And it was wonderful. But, no! This was crazy. What was I
thinking? I had to get out of there. What was I going to do now?

He kept kissing me, and I was helpless. My darling daddy was embracing
me and kissing me. Wasn't this what I had been longing for my whole
life long? My big, strong, handsome, blonde daddy. There was no way I
was going to give this up. I responded and felt his big cock getting
stiff and stabbing me in the abdomen. He was much taller than I was, so
his stiff prick hit high on my body.

He moaned. I moaned. It was complete ecstasy for the two of us. He took
my hand. "Come on, honey. Let's go to bed," he said pulling me along.

"No. No, I can't," I protested.

"Come to our bed. I want you. I need you. I'm gonna fuck you."

If he ever discovered my boy thing, I was in deep doo doo.

I frantically searched for an excuse. "I can't," I said. "The car
crash. The accident^Ţ

"Yes?" he waited.

"There was a lot of damage. I don't want you to ever see it."

"I don't mind," he pledged.

I was softening. "Well," I wavered. "If I let you fuck me, there's a
condition.----- You can't ever look at my wounds. And you can't touch
them."

"All right," he agreed begrudgingly.

"I have to keep some of my clothes on, and we have to be under the
covers. You have to promise me that you won't look or touch. That's
the only way I'll go to bed with you."

"I said `all right', "he repeated. "Okay. I promise." And he
began leading me up the stairs

I was nervous, but I was excited. Finally, after all these years, my
daddy would be lying on top of me. A dream come true. The whole house
was dark, and we felt our way into his bedroom. I felt for the edge of
the bed, and sat down on it. I slipped off my high heels. Did that ever
feel good. I climbed fully clothed under the blankets, and in the near
darkness, I could just about see daddy stripping off his clothes.
Finally he was standing there with that enormous dick sticking out.

"I can't wait to suck on your tits and get my fingers into your juicy
pussy," he said lasciviously.

"No, you can't" I protested.

"Why not?"

"My tits were terribly damaged in the accident. It would hurt me
terribly if you were to touch them."

"Oh," he said caringly. "Honey, I'm so sorry."

"And I have no pussy anymore. It was totally destroyed."

"Oh, no," he shuttered. "What can we do?"

"You can't ever touch my front pussy. But you can use my back pussy?"

"Your back pussy?" He seemed not to know what I was talking about.
Was he really this stupid?

"Yes, darling. You can use my back pussy. You know."

Finally it dawned on him, and he began nodding his head in comprehension.
"We never did that before."

"No? I forget," I said. "But never mind. It's so hot and tight.
Much tighter than my front pussy was. You're really going to love it."

With that he climbed on top of my fully clothed body and we began to kiss
again. His cock had begun to droop a little and needed stiffening. This
was all so strange to him. I made him lie face up on the bed and crawled
lower so I could get his big prick in my mouth and suck it like mad. I
had never had a big prick in my mouth, but I felt that instinctively I
would know what to do. I clamped my mouth over it. It was thrilling. I
began to salivate and move my mouth as far down the pole as I could,
holding it with one hand. Then I took it out of my mouth and admired the
wet shiny knob. Then I started sucking it again. He started grunting.
I was doing a good job. I was so proud of myself.

"That's terrific, honey. But now I wanna fuck you."

"Okay, I said softly. I climbed back under the covers on my stomach,
raised my dress above my waist in the back, and lowered the panties in
the back, so he could squeeze his cock through. "Now, remember. No
touching. No grabbing," I cautioned.

I felt his hard rod pressing against the tender flesh of my pucker.
There was too much friction. It was hurting.

"It won't go in," he lamented.

"Spit on it," I suggested. He was so gorgeous, but not a great mind.
I never realized that before.

I heard him start spitting into his hand, and he was anointing his long
instrument with the slippery wetness. Finally he positioned himself at
my hole again, and tried to work it into my pucker. Now it was going
in. I caught my breath and held it as the big head entered my hole,
which was slowly and gratefully spreading out for him. I made him stop a
minute till I got used to it, and then I told him to proceed, and could
feel it inside me, like a snake slowly crawling down my hungry snake
hole, then nesting in there. I felt his giant clackers hit my
asscheeks. So this was what I had been missing all these years. No
wonder I had wanted it so badly. There couldn't be anything better in
the world than having my daddy's long prong in my rectum. I clutched my
flesh around him. My sweet daddy. I turned my face to the side, so that
daddy's tongue could reach into my mouth once more. He rode up and down
on top of my round firm balloons fucking my back pussy, as his glorious
tongue fucked my mouth.

"Oh, make this last," I begged.

"I'm trying," he said. "But your back pussy is so fantastic. I
don't know how long I can go without shooting."

He managed another five minutes, and then he was yo-yoing on top of me,
rubbing his flesh-tube against my inner walls, working himself to the
completion which he could no longer hold off. His cock was now actually
spreading my asshole even wider, and I felt the hot liquid, the white
stuff, blast out into my guts.

"Mmmm," he murmured in appreciation, and nuzzled my neck.

"Oh, honey," I said. "That was just the best. It was so worth coming
back for."

He just kept nuzzling my neck, as we turned to lie side by side, and
eventually he drifted off to sleep. I took that opportunity to get the
hell out of there.

I had been successful beyond my imagination. A.-I had driven my father
over the edge. And B- After all these years my father was finally fucking
me.

The next day Eric called daddy to tell him he would not be home in the
immediate future. That he was staying with friends. (I was staying at
the Y.)

But I have to tell you that it was a bad weather month. Our lovemaking
had been so wonderful, that I couldn't not have more of it. I arranged
three more thunderstorms that week alone. Of course, now I knew enough
to cover my boy thing with a strap-on plastic cup, which I had found in a
sex shop. In addition, I covered the plastic cup with gauze and bandages,
as if it were a wound.. My breasts were another matter. I would have to
rely on the padded brassiere for now.

Gradually, with each love-making session, I let a little more light come
on the scene. One night when I was lying face down on the sheets,
wearing only my plastic cup front-strap-on and my brassiere, daddy looked
down in admiration.

"What a gorgeous ass you have, sweetheart," he complimented me. "I
think it's even more beautiful now than it was before. It's rounder.
It's firmer. It looks, I don't know----" he paused, searching for the
right word. "It looks younger. It's just beautiful, and I love your
back pussy hole. I could fuck it till the end of time."

He moved down on the bed and started licking my tender bud. I never
imagined he would do that. It tickled a little, but it felt
out-of-this-world. I wiggled my behind appreciatively as he sucked on
me. Then he lubed up his big cock with more saliva and crawled between
my legs, right into my asshole. He rested his heavy solid weight on my
slender back, and began tonguing my ear as he fornicated. My ass started
a fornication of its own, and soon we were fornicating together, I raised
my middle up as he lowered his middle down, until they slapped together
and we reversed directions. Slap. Slap. Slap. The fleshy noise of a
good fucking. I could never give this up. Plans would have to be made.

Eventually Eric phoned and told daddy he was going to Hawaii to live, and
mommy moved back in. She cooked and she cleaned the house. And at night
she sucked and got fucked, and loved every long stroke of it.

During the day while daddy was at work, I enrolled in a femininity
training class to perfect my performance. I began taking female hormone
shots and pills which helped modify the shape of my body, and diminished
my facial and body hair. And after a time I decided that daddy deserved
a little reward. He loved me so much now, and he was being so nice that
I told daddy I needed a little vacation; and though it was difficult for
him to let me go, I disappeared for a time, and secretly entered a
hospital for some plastic surgery. Some breast reconstruction after the
terrible accident.

When I got home, I took off my dress, and now even my brassiere, and

surprised daddy with my big beautiful full new tits. Daddy was
delighted. And immediately began to suck on them and make strange throaty
noises of joy.

We got into bed and did the dirty deed.

I was mommy full time now, and daddy sucked on my new hooters, and even
fucked them; and then I sucked on his big juicy squirtgun. I would have
loved to have him squirt down my hungry throat, but I wanted the goo
inside me. I wanted it in my back pussy.

Now I was facing him, and raising my hips to meet his powerful lunges. I
wrapped my shaved legs around his behind and squeezed him into me. He
knew enough now never to touch my injured painful front pussy. And as he
was plowing me, I began to make more plans in my head. One of these
day's very soon, I was going to go and have more plastic surgery done on
my body. I was going to get the doctors to remove my bothersome boy
thing and reconstruct my `demolished' front pussy, so that my daddy
would have the joy of fucking his woman in the old fashioned way. I was
going to get a real vagina for him to plunder with his hard masculine
machine. I felt him deep inside my tunnel performing that exquisite
labor of love. Yes. Soon he would get a traditional lady-snatch. He
would be so happy to be able to fuck a front cunt again, and after all, I
was no longer my daddy's son. I was now my daddy's wife.