Father Daughter Incest Porn Stories
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Father Daughter Incest Porn Stories
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It was a normal, busy weekday. I was driving to work and noticed cars parked along the highway. I realised that there was a police crackdown on traffic violators and, to my horror, I suddenly realised that I had forgotten my driving license at home. Luckily, no one stopped me.
When I got to work, I decided to park my car and take a bus home to get my license. I wasn't going to take chances and risk trouble on my way home in the evening.
When I got home, I found the house silent. My husband had said he had a headache and was not going to work. I figured he was in bed, still asleep. My daughter, a university student, had mentioned she didn't have didn't have morning classes so she was probably studying in her bedroom.
I tip-toed upstairs to our room so as not to disturb my sleeping husband. I knew exactly where the license was so I thought I could just grab it and ease the door shut...until I heard noises from the bedroom.
I had never suspected my husband for cheating on me let alone bringing a woman to my house. But what I saw was beyond anyone's imagination; my husband having sex with our daughter!
The sight of my daughter and my husband naked on my very bed sickened me. I still get nauseated at the sheer thought of the spectacle. It was more ugly than shocking. Momentarily, I thought I had gone mad. I opened my mouth to scream but nothing came out.
Then my daughter shamelessly retorted: "Mum, why are you surprised? I thought you knew it all along!" And to rub it in, my husband confirmed that what they were doing was no mistake. "The only mistake we've made is using your bed," my husband arrogantly said. Only the previous night, he and I were very intimate on the same bed. What a betrayal!
Their retorts brought me back to my senses and I walked out. I later told my in-laws and the village elders what I had seen and all of us were summoned. My husband can win an Oscar; he denied everything saying that he was very concerned I was losing my mind. I was shocked when he and my in-laws suggested I should get psychiatric help. I knew they had beaten me and I got into serious depression.
I kicked my husband out of our bedroom and as expected he ran into his 'lovers' arms. My two sons kept aloof and never encouraged any discussion about what was happening. Maybe they too blame me for their sister's insanity though their distant relationship never changed.
Thoughts of pain and regret started creeping through my mind. I had severally been warned by concerned women who had seen them together that the two were overly involved. I often told-off the women justifying the closeness with the obvious fact that it is psychologically proven that daughters love their fathers more than their mothers.
When my daughter grew older and became a pretty young woman, I got suspicious but I severally rebuked myself for even imagining that my daughter and her father would ever have a sexual relationship. From when she was a tiny baby she would sit on his lap and lay her head on his chest and he would kiss her cheeks. What reason did I have to thwart the beautiful relationship between father and daughter?
I recall a day when one of my friends called me to inform me that she had seen my daughter and her father kissing passionately. I scolded the woman for having such immoral thoughts and firmly defended my family. My husband is a prominent business man and my family was steadfastly crocheted together hence I wouldn't be the one to expose it to public shame. Besides, even if it were true, everyone would blame me for being poor in parenting or worse still, no one would believe me. Had I listened, I would have cautioned my daughter early enough or separated them at some point but I worried what the two would have thought of me had it turned out to be just an innocent father-daughter relationship.
The relationship between me and my daughter was average; we had good and bad times and I was firm but loving whenever she did a mistake. But every time I corrected her, the father would reprimand me in her presence. This made her very disrespectful and even when I invited our local pastor to speak to her, she accused me of being unfair to her declaring that the only true friend she had was her father.
She was very distant to her brothers and had no girlfriends. When she was in high school, I questioned who her girlfriends were but she was categorical that she enjoyed her own company. I admit I may have given up on her too soon because I chose to ignore her and to continue bringing up my sons who had teachable spirits. I comforted myself that getting solace from her own father was safe instead of getting it from outside.
I went to see a psychological counselor as a last resort but he advised me to file a divorce. I have invested so much into that marriage that I can't stand losing all the estates I have laboured for. I chose to stay and ignore everything.
I do all a wife is supposed to do apart from sharing my bed with my husband or choosing his wardrobe. That's within my 'co-wife's' docket. It's been over three years since they moved in. Our sons have gone their different ways to pursue their careers. I am so lonely in that house but I can't move out neither can I share my ordeal with anyone. I blame myself so much for being a poor mother but now, as it were, it's too late. I must learn to accept my daughter as my co-wife.
I am a mother and a once happy wife. Not anymore; today I am a bitter woman; full of regrets and nursing pangs of resentment against my daughter. She is a girl I nursed as a baby and nurtured into adulthood. I never withheld an iota of love from her yet she mercilessly took my husband and abused my matrimonial bed. It would have been less painful, if my co-wife were not my very own daughter.
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The Standard Group Plc is a multi-media organization with investments in media platforms spanning newspaper print
operations, television, radio broadcasting, digital and online services. The Standard Group is recognized as a
leading multi-media house in Kenya with a key influence in matters of national and international interest.
Standard Group Plc HQ Office,
The Standard Group Center,Mombasa Road.
P.O Box 30080-00100,Nairobi, Kenya.
Telephone number: 0203222111, 0719012111
Email: corporate@standardmedia.co.ke
I am a third year student in campus. I have some confessions to make. My mum and my step-dad have a daughter together. My mum loves him very much and she has always favoured my step-sister over me and this has made me develop a lot of anger towards her.
We are very close with dad and I always thought he often made passes at me but did not make much out of it. Recently, we were watching a movie and ended up getting intimate and now I can't get him off my mind. He also seems to have the same problem and I think he has fallen in love with me.
I love him but I know that this will only bring trouble if my mum was to find out so I am looking for a way to end this. This is becoming difficult because I like him and the fact that we see each other daily worsens the situation. Please advise...
Now that you have gone to bed with your mother’s husband, how do the two of you behave when she is around? Even if he is your step-dad, it is still weird and unimaginable. Yes it is less weird than if it was your actual father but it is just inappropriate. I cannot even begin to imagine what I would feel if I was in your position. End this now please!
I think you are looking for a sugar daddy to spoil you by giving you money and other things. However, be in the know that you are looking at the wrong man. Suppose it was you whose daughter was sleeping with your husband? How would you feel? What would you do to your daughter? That very answer is what your mother will do when she finds out about this. And that liking and favouritism she has for your sister will increase ten times when she finds out.
Imagine getting a child with someone you are calling a father? A man who has slept with your mother? Why do you want to break her heart? This man could be having other affairs outside and could infect you even with HIV. Sleeping with somebody you call your dad is a curse to you. If you got a child with him, what would that child call your mother? Stop thinking like a girl who has never stepped inside a school, you are a Third Year student in the university. Concentrate on your studies as this man is only wasting your time.
By law, he is and remains to be your father. Your story is a bit ambiguous because it is not the resentment to your sister but the intimate love you have with your dad. The African culture and tradition do not support this and history will judge you harshly. Someone who sees your mother naked should never do that to you and at the very age you are. This is incest and an abomination. There are many single unmarried men that can date you. He is not the only remaining man on earth. Stop this to be at peace with yourself and with others.
This is one of those things in life that are just unacceptable. It is probably the highest form of betrayal you have both exposed your mother to and without a doubt, you ought to find a way to deal with this. I believe this is why you have shared your issue with us so before I give you some pointers as to how you could deal with this, let's put your sit uation in the right context.
The first and very solid fact is that no "love" can exist and grow between a girl and her father. Real dad or step dad, that man is your mother's husband and as such you remain to be his daughter. Indeed he can like you and even love you very much but not with the kind of love that would allow you to get intimate with him. You are therefore not in love with him rather you are only infatuated. It is common for girls to be infatuated with their fathers but this only lasts a short while then they grow out of it. Make no mistake about this; there can never be any true love between a girl and her father. But of course there can be many other kinds of love, just not the kind you are implying. He did this out of lust and you participated in it out of ignorance. If anything, it is in order to say that he took advantage of his daughter.
You both need to find a way of dealing with this but you cannot do this if you don't accept that what you did was unacceptable. Often, confession is the best approach to closure. However, in your situation, this may not be the best. There is no way you can continue living under the same roof with those two. Yes, it is about time you moved out and let them be as you try and find your way around this life. Living in that house will only lead you back to the same situation and the consequences are unimaginable. Have you thought about what could happen if you conceived a child with him? Have you even remotely imagined what would happen if she got wind of this matter or if she caught you in the act?
Please know that nothing good can come out of this and this is one of those situations you really need to quit while you are ahead. Talk to them about getting you an apartment so they can enjoy their marriage as you find your way through life. Yes, she may favour your sister over you but this should not be an excuse to mess her marriage. That man is not straight and it seems he can even do this with his own daughter. Like you put it, it is difficult because you see him every day of your life. Get a way out of that house and with time all this will end.
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Even though I was convinced Tamsin had been telling the truth, still a tiny part of me had hoped it was all a mistake
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In seconds my world came tumbling down
Emma Charles thought that she and her family were living a normal life. But then she discovered that her husband had been sexually abusing their daughter Tamsin since the age of ten. Twelve years on, Emma recalls that devastating day and the traumatic events that followed
In many ways, we were an ordinary family – mum, dad, two kids, a Volvo in the drive. And in some ways we weren’t so ordinary. As a ship’s engineer, my husband Daniel worked away from home for up to four months at a time. But I never for a moment dreamt that we were extraordinary – until that day.
It started out fine, that Tuesday in December 1996. Our younger daughter, Claire, 13, was at school, and I was looking forward to spending some time with Tamsin, who had just broken up for the holidays. At 15, she was a weekly boarder at a specialist school for high-ability dyslexics.
We chatted about what she was going to do. That was when the first hint of discord arose. Tamsin and I squabbled, like all mothers and daughters. But that day she was impervious to reasoned argument. She began making hurtful personal attacks on her father and me, something she had never done. At bedtimewe kissed goodnight, but for the first time we parted with a coolness between us.
The following evening, I was in the living room when she burst in, flung a piece of paper at me and stormed out. ‘I have to leave or he has to,’ she had written. ‘And you seem to need him. And f*** you, you probably won’t believe me anyway.’ She was talking about her father – telling me that he had been sexually abusing her for the past five years. In the seconds it took me to absorb her words, my world came tumbling down.
I found her down the road with her dog. ‘Come home and tell me about it,’ I begged. She looked into my eyes and must have been reassured by what she saw. ‘He won’t leave me alone,’ she cried. ‘He’s always feeling me up. He brushes against my breasts so I know it’s not accidental, but he could persuade someone else it was.’
Hope blossomed in my mind. Maybe it was just a misunderstanding, an over-tactile father who would have to learn to respect his daughter’s personal space. ‘Has he ever touched you between your legs?’ I asked. ‘Last time he was home on leave,’ she sobbed.
Tears were falling from my eyes as I looked up the number for social services and picked up the phone. I just knew I had to do the right thing.
Daniel and I had been married for 18 years. I was 27 when we met, working as a medical photographer; he was a year older and at college, studying for his Second Engineer’s certificate. He was tall and slim with auburn hair and blue-grey eyes and a full beard and moustache. And he was gentle, laid-back – all the things I wasn’t. Within a week, I had decided he was the man with whom I wanted to spend the rest of my life. We married the following year.
I hadn’t wanted children. It was Daniel who felt that we wouldn’t be a ‘proper family’ without them. Tamsin was conceived two years after our wedding, and Claire came along two and a half years after that. As it turned out, I loved being a mother and Daniel was good with the girls as babies. But as they grew up, he changed. His own parents had been authoritarian, and not reluctant to use a belt to hit their children. He, too, resorted to smacking and violence.
One incident in particular stands out. When the girls were seven and four, I noticed ‘fingertip’ bruising on Claire’s arm. I really went for Daniel, threatening to kick him out if he couldn’t control his temper. He was angry with me for taking him to task; but when he realised I was serious, he backed down and apologised. Over and over again, we talked about what was reasonable behaviour and over and over he agreed with me. But his efforts to improve never lasted long.
Why did I stay with him if things were so bad? Well, they weren’t bad all the time. Mostly, we had a good family life. I knew the harm that divorce causes to children. I still loved Daniel and I thought we could make it work. Until that day.
Tamsin, aged four, and her 18-month-old sister, Claire
Daniel was in the Far East when Tamsin wrote her devastating note. Social services set up an appointment for the following Monday. Meanwhile, I had to address another horrible thought. Gently, I asked Claire if her dad had ever touched her. ‘He used to come and give me back rubs,’ she replied. ‘But I liked that…’ ‘Nothing else?’ I asked. ‘He asked me to take off my T-shirt, but I just said no. And once he tried to give me a tummy rub, but I wouldn’t let him.’
It was becoming clearer now. Claire has always been an upfront child. Whenever anything was worrying her, she would come and tell me. If only Tamsin had been the same.
I’m not going to describe Tamsin’s statement to social services. Listening to her engraved pictures on my mind which I still have trouble banishing today. The police also took statements and arranged a medical examination. Several weeks later, Daniel was arrested as he stepped off a flight from Jakarta. DC Barbara White from the sexual offences unit called later to tell me: ‘He’s admitted everything. It’s a very credible confession. He wants me to tell you that he’s never raped Tamsin, and he’s never been unfaithful to you with anyone else.’
I cried my eyes out. Even though I was convinced Tamsin had been telling the truth, still a tiny part of me had hoped it was all a mistake.
Daniel was bailed, with strict conditions not to approach either Tamsin or me. I had imagined that he would be feeling crushed and placatory. I was soon to discover how little I knew him. Within a few days, a letter from him arrived informing me that his mother was bitter that I had not kept our troubles ‘within the family’. So that was it. I was to be blamed for reporting the abuse. This was my first experience of the denial which abusers use to protect themselves from acknowledging the harm they have caused. Who is protected by dealing with such matters within the family? Only the abuser.
For the sexual assault on his daughter, Daniel was sentenced to 12 months’ imprisonment and placed on the Sex Offenders Register for five years. The case took ten months to come to court and was finally heard in October 1997. When people asked me that year how I was coping, I said I had pencilled in a nervous breakdown for November. In the event, it didn’t happen. I didn’t have the time. Tamsin needed all my energy.
Tamsin went downhill quickly. The first signs were strange attacks, which she called freakies. They are difficult to describe. Her body was there, but the rational person that was Tamsin disappeared. Instead there was a frightened creature which threw itself at walls and on the floor, and scratched
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