Chapter 7

Stu Barr and Marianne Snavely met in college and got married after they graduated. Stu became a plastics engineer while Marianne went into the nursing profession. Claire was born in 1967 when Stu and Marianne were both twenty-six. Stu developed and patented a plastic flush valve for toilets that was an instant success, his employer got the lion’s share of the profits from his patent which is customary in the industry. But Stu’s resentment at receiving such a pittance made him decide to go into business for himself. In 1971 when Claire was only four years old, a major pharmaceutical firm commissioned Stu to create the first child-proof safety cap, the royalties of which made him a millionaire. Before his meteoric success, he was strictly a family man. He was an idealist and an activist who when he and Marianne were members of a prominent Methodist church in Denver, were both active as volunteers in the youth program as youth counselors. During summer vacations they escorted teens to Mexico to build homes for impoverished families.

Not long after that Stu’s childproof cap royalties became a deluge however, success went to his head and began corrupting his moral compass. Despite Marianne’s urgings that he continue on his idealistic course, Stu became hedonistic. He began making frequent forays to Las Vegas where he became a compulsive gambler and a womanizer. As success brought more dollars to the family Stu tried to convince Marianne to drop her nursing career. But, mistrustful of the person her husband was becoming, she knew that her nursing profession would be her refuge.

While Stu’s newfound money drew him into a dissolute lifestyle he was still devoted to his daughter. His doting always gave the appearance that he was acting as a responsible parent but beneath the surface, his perverse thoughts began taking control. From the time Claire had been a baby Stu and Marianne traded off giving her baths, which he loved doing. Considering it a chore, Marianne was happy that he took it on as his responsibility. When the child was three Marianne noticed that she would often press her finger between her legs. At first, she thought Claire merely needed to go to the bathroom, which she often did. But Stu suggested that the child might be doing it for pleasure. “As parents,” Marianne said, “we should discourage her whenever we see it happening. Perhaps we should consider a toy when she takes a bath.” It was she who bought the first rubber ducky.

When Stu first started bathing Claire he was initially intrigued by the little girl’s sexual parts. While always feeling sleazy about his thoughts he appropriately washed that area as any responsible parent would do. But when he and Marianne determined that their daughter was masturbating the arousal, he felt at the concept became more than just curiosity. At first, he felt guilty about it. But as he dwelt on the knowledge that his little girl could arouse herself sexually, he began satisfying some of his curiosities with her. Since Claire was accustomed to her father washing her down below it was a common occurrence for her. But when he began fondling her vagina in the tub, he used the squeaking rubber ducky as a distraction by submerging it and then rubbing his hand on her vulva as he pulled it up and squeezed it again. Soon it was obvious that the child liked what he was doing. Whether Claire’s memory was different she never indicated anything but pleasure at his touches. Stu rationalized that he was making his daughter feel special thus, in his mind, no harm was being done. At the same time, he found himself masturbating more often while fantasizing about Claire. As for Claire whenever she was in the tub for a bath she would say, “Let’s play Ducky, Daddy.”

Though Marianne hated the way Stu wasted his life in casinos she loved the fact that he was such an adoring father. Fearful that he would squander their fortune she began taking advanced nursing courses. Claire was twelve at the time when the concerned mother began stressing about how irresponsible her husband was becoming with their finances. At the time though she never considered Stu capable of being a child molester.

Stu’s regular forays to Las Vegas brought him into a world of kinky sex where he would frequent brothels. Before long he found that prostitutes were not satisfying him as much anymore. When he met a showgirl by the name of Erline Cunningham, he found a sexual soulmate which turned into a longstanding affair. It was Erline who introduced Stu to her “father and grandfather fetish,” to which he found himself surprisingly drawn. At home, his enjoyment of Erline’s fantasy began intensifying his bathroom play with Claire, and began fingering her clitoris. Fears that he might become a pervert were rationalized as a father merely making his daughter’s baths more pleasurable. These baths soon became joint experiences where both participants “washed” each other’s sexual parts which greatly enhanced the pleasure of bathing for both of them.

The trips to Vegas became more frequent. Sex with Marianne became almost nonexistent. So, when he was at home, he began satisfying his desire with his nearly teenage daughter. It was during this time that he bought one of GMC’s first motor homes. Erline, who lived in an apartment, loved the idea of a mobile “fuck palace” and would often reward Stu in his luxury motor home with a ménage-a-trois including one of her showgirl buddies. His gambling became so intense that he started dipping into his fortune. Having become lax in his business endeavors, his royalties dwindled—competitive inventions had begun eating into his profits. Recognizing that her husband’s gambling was an addiction Marianne convinced him to pay off the mortgage on the house. If something happened to Stu, as long as she had a roof over her head that she didn’t have to pay for, she knew she could make a living in the nursing profession for which she had prepared herself completely.

Just about the time Stu had groomed Claire into an acceptable bedmate, Marianne was diagnosed with uterine cancer. One would have thought that she, being in the medical profession, would have recognized the symptoms, but because she didn’t respond in time her prognosis was short. When she passed, Stu became devoted to his vices. At the same time, he invented a plastic gear mechanism that was picked up by the major airlines, assuring that he would never again have another financial shortfall. With his wife gone his incestuous activities became so intense that he and Claire slept in the same bed. And, when she wasn’t in school, she was making regular trips to Vegas with her father in the motor home.

Having Claire as the third member of the ménage-a-trois was a coup for Erline. Not only was it much less complicated, but she also found it more thrilling. Additionally, through Erline’s contacts in the casinos, Claire became a means for Stu to pay off some of his massive gambling debts. A Lolita in Sin City was worth far more than mere dollars.

After Stacy and Kyle had left for the prom, Lance and Claire had a passionate bout of necking and petting in the front hallway, and then went hand in hand up the stairs, ducking into their respective rooms to undress. As Lance stripped, his manhood sprung to attention at the prospect of being naked again with Claire. On his way to the bathroom, he saw the naked Claire coming toward him from her bedroom at the end of the hall. With a coquettish grin, she moved in a fake trot, each choppy step causing her breasts to bounce and jiggle. When their naked bodies came together Claire’s breasts flattened on Lance’s chest as she opened her legs and allowed Lance’s erect cock to slide along the damp slot between her legs.

While they hugged and kissed, Lance felt something in Claire’s hand pressing against his back and making a high-pitched squeak. As they came apart, he looked through the opened bathroom door and, in the mirror, saw something in her hand that he couldn’t quite make out, other than it was yellow. “What the hell is that?” he asked. Pushing it against his back again, Claire laughed when it squeaked.

She then held the object in front of his face, and with a childish grin squeezed it, “Squeak, squeak.” Focusing on the yellow object Lance guffawed and said, “What the fuck?” It was a Donald Duck with a five-inch cock, Rubber Duckie dildo, “Squeak, squeak.”

“Let’s take a bath,” Claire said, pulling him into the bathroom. Handing him the duck she bent over and turned on the bathtub faucet. While the faucet ran Lance squeezed the ridiculous thing while the tub was filling. When the tub was filled Claire took Unca Donald and dropped him into the water. Lance edged closer, pressed against her body, his erect cock finding the vee of her open leg and sliding forward until her soft bush tickled his glans. Bending forward he pressed his bare chest against Claire’s smooth, warm back, reached for the floating Donald, and brought the dildo to his mouth, suckling it until it was well coated with his saliva.

Making space between him and Claire he held the dildo to her threshold and eased it inside her body. She pushed back, dropping her head as Lance slowly filled her accepting orifice with her favorite uncle. Pulling it most of the way out he shoved the object back inside and began duck-fucking her. With each push and pull Donald squeaked. With her hands flat on the edge of the tub Claire’s body moved to the rhythm of the steady penetrations. In the throes of this kinky sex, as her ass undulated to the increasing speed of Unca Donald and his persistent squeaks, she stretched her head back, trying to work out the kinks of her stiff neck.

While the squeaks echoed off the wall tiles her knees flexed and her shoulders shimmied. Slapping her hands on the tub to steady herself, her knees buckled as she gasped, “OH, Lance. Thank you, thank you!” Continuing his thrusts, she continued bucking back, waggling her head and flexing her knees. “I’m so tense,” she said. “I need this so badly.”

Turning her body toward him, he wrapped an arm around her back and gently pulled her with him as he backed toward the toilet. Sitting down on the lid, his erection sticking upward like an angled peg hook, he beckoned her forward. Straddling him she grasped his cock with her right hand, wiggled it in her groove, made the connection, and lowered herself on his turgid hardness. Through oval lips, she matched his penetration with a long, soft “Ooh.”

Warmth coursed through Lance’s body as Claire’s supple, slippery pussy sheathed his cock in her soft, scabbard. With arms enfolding each other they embraced. As they kissed the Rocky Mountain landlady’s yielding buns rolled on her tenant’s thighs, and he angled his cock left to right deep inside her pussy. Still holding the Donald dildo Lance brought the wet, yellow shaft to their lips and slid it between them, “You smell delicious, baby,” he said. “Taste good too.”

Like an excited puppy, Claire squealed and grunted, clutching Lance’s shoulders. She tightened her legs and retracted her vagina from his long shaft. He bucked up when gravity brought her back down and their bodies came together with a loud “slap!” and splashing water. When neither could get comfortable enough to satisfy the other Lance said, “Let’s stand up.” With his cock plugged into Claire’s supple, gripping pussy he cupped her ass with his hands and lifted her. Turning, he sat her on the toilet lid, lifted her legs, and looked deeply into her eyes. Arching his right eyebrow for a response.

Claire said, “Yes,” responding to his silent question, and wrapped her legs around his waist imploring, “Fuck me ... please.”

When his engorged bulk hit bottom he slowly pulled back to the flange of his head, plunging again: one, two, three times, bringing a pleasured oval of delight to Claire’s lips. Each time his glistening phallus bared itself, Claire’s nostrils vacuumed more air than they could accommodate. Each time he slammed home her substantial breasts slumped before springing back to their level position. As Lance’s ardor increased Claire’s body gave way to her passions. With each slam she tensed her legs and squeezed his waist, her head waggling and her breasts jiggling. On the cusp of orgasm, she felt his body tensing as memories of nascent cum-lust brought forth a furtive childhood plea, “Cum in my mouth, Daddy.”

So that’s it, Lance thought, too passionately involved to pursue the thought further at the moment.

She remembered how her daddy’s eyes filled with glee, his wicked smile curving to a joyous grin as gouts of sperm squirted into her open mouth. She loved pleasing him. When his ejaculate spattered her face and hair she felt like the perfect daughter. As her daddy’s warm essence was being pumped into her mouth the young girl was alive with the satisfaction of filial servitude.

As his hand stroked his glistening erection Lance saw the hunger in Claire’s eyes. He watched her mouth opening like a baby bird’s in the nest, stretching beyond wide. He had never been with a woman with such a penchant for exploded sperm, except for her daughter. Gritting his teeth, he gave way to the pressure inside him. As always, when he came standing up, he felt that his knees might collapse, and he would keel over. When his knees lost their flex, he slapped his hands on the top of the toilet tank to keep from crashing to the floor.

For Claire it was déjà-vu. Her daddy’s cock felt had always felt so big in her mouth. She remembered the first time when the taste of his sperm was so yucky, that it made her gag. Though she couldn’t understand why he was making her do it, the joy of serving her father’s needs was bliss. And the look on his face when he came! For a young girl, bringing such pleasure to the man she worshipped was worth the discomfort. The next time and each time afterward it became better, until she craved it. But now, amid her joy with Lance, the shadow of insidious shame darkened the feeling of joy as she asked herself, why did Daddy have to die?

When Lance’s eyes rolled back to their normal position he said, “Oh baby, that was fan-fucking-tastic.”

She had always wanted to tell her mother about what she was doing for her daddy ... for her mom to say, “You’re such a good daughter, Claire.” But her father made her agree to keep the secret. Maybe I can tell Lance. Maybe he will understand. The past having left her again she rolled the warm oyster of Lance’s sperm over her tongue, taking it to the back of her throat, just shy of swallowing. It feels wonderful. As she swallowed the abundance of her tenant’s splooge she enjoyed the confirmation in his pleasured eyes. It was the same pleasure she had seen so many times before. All men love it so much.

The tub was half full of warm water. Lance stepped in first and lowered himself to its depths. The warm water on his balls made his scrotum loosen and hang down like a bull’s. Claire put one foot between his ankles and then the other. With her hands on the sides of the tub, she lowered her bottom between Lance’s legs, pushing back with her feet on the front of the bathtub. Her behind pressed against Lance’s flaccid cock and as she settled her back against his chest and the swirling water churned around her stomach and his back.

Lacing his arms under hers he scooped water on Claire’s breasts. “Mm,” she purred, “that’s divine.”

While he washed her shoulders, her breasts, and her neck she decided to take a stab at what was troubling her. “Lance,” she said, do you have secrets from your past that you will never tell a soul?” She felt the doubts again. I probably shouldn’t bring it up.

From their first sexual encounter, he was aware of Claire’s submissiveness. It wasn’t a submissive fetish as such; it was more akin to the submissiveness of a child with an adult. The look in her eyes when she swallowed his cum and called him “Daddy” solidified his suspicion that she was a victim of incest. Her eyes seemed to hold the quality of a little girl seeking confirmation from a stern parent. At the same time, he wondered if this behavior was just another aspect of her wild sexuality. “I think everyone has done something they wouldn’t want the world to know, Claire. Why do you ask?”

He couldn’t see her face but knew she was thinking. When she reached down and picked up the yellow and blue Donald Dildo off the floor it whistled. Swishing it in the water she spread her legs and, with a high-pitched little girl voice she said, “Ooh.” Claire’s unbridled sexuality and playfulness were a tremendous turn-on for Lance. At that particular moment though he wondered, what is she thinking? Why did she cry out in such a tiny voice when she shoved the toy inside her pussy?