Message-ID: <29361asstr$984424203@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <news@nntp9.atl.mindspring.net> X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: georgiepoorgie@mailcity.com (Daydreamer) X-Original-Message-ID: <3aacc004.5398195@news.mindspring.com> X-Server-Date: 12 Mar 2001 12:23:38 GMT Subject: {ASSM} Family At War - (Inc, Bro/Sis, Mom/Son, Neph/Aunt, high tech/genetic selection) - chap8famwar.txt (1/1) Date: Mon, 12 Mar 2001 14:10:03 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2001/29361> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: RuiJorge, gill-bates Chapter 8 Dad is Bonkers or Is Dad a Good Bonker The trip home took less time than I thought it would. My mind was on the video that I would have to show Dad. It scared the crap out of me that I would have to give it to him and I was sure that he was not going to be very happy about it. I also could not get the whole situation of Cindy and Dad off my mind, especially the enormous size of his penis. It was absolutely amazing that a man could have a cock that big and a smile of appreciate slowly spread over my face. I glanced at myself in the rearview mirror and thought how much I regretted not being his genetic son, maybe I would have been so endowed. I said out loud, "To bad that snake isn't mine, I'd be a hurting some people with it." I got a big laugh out of that. Still the drive went smoothly because of the low traffic levels and a few of the red lights were still in blinking mode so early in the morning. I pulled up in the driveway and immediately noticed that the number of lights on in the house seemed to be less. The front porch light was still on, but the bedroom windows were dark and I clearly remembered that most, if not all of them were lighted. As I got out of the car I picked up the tape the girls had given me for dad. I slowly walked to the front porch, the front door of the house was open and I could see inside. The chair that Dad had been sleeping in when I left was empty, so he was either up messing around somewhere or maybe he had managed to totter off to bed. As I was looking through the door, I smelled smoke. I wondered where the hell the smoke was coming from; it was to warm outside to have a fire in the fireplace. Anyway, I could see the fireplace from where I was standing and it was not burning. I stepped back from the house and looked around the yard, nothing out of the ordinary. I heard the crash of a door slamming and dad came walking into the room. From the direction he came I thought he was probably out in the backyard. I was standing far enough away from the door that I could see in but the shadows prevented him from seeing me. He looked like warmed over death. His hair was wild and messy and his shirt dirty as hell, it looked like he might have dumped a can of black grease down the front of his body. He scared the shit out of me. I was looking at a total stranger, if I had not known the guy was my dad, I would not have recognized him. I was shocked and afraid to move. While I stared at him, he headed on toward the back of the house without ever noticing me. I watched him until I could not see him anymore and then stood stock still for a few more lonely seconds. I wondered what the heck he was doing in the back yard and decided to ease my way around to the back yard and find out. I quietly made my way around the side of the house. I had a clear view of the patio and pool area. The smoke was coming from the portable charcoal barbecue grill. Dad had a really large pile of stuff on the steel grating and had started it burning. He'd piled so much stuff on the small grill that it was hanging off and making a huge cloud of smoke. Thank goodness it was still early in the morning because if he'd done it during the daylight the smoke would certainly been seen by the neighbors and somebody might have called the police or fire department. As I watched the storm door from the house swung open and dad came out. He kind of staggered a little under the weight of the load of stuff he was carrying out. For a second I thought he was going to pile it all right on to the pile already burning on the little charcoal grill. Just at the last moment he must have realized that the stuff he had in his arms would way overload the small grill. He just tossed all of it on the ground next to the grill and turned to go back in the house. I watched him as he opened the door, walked through and let it slam behind him. I was really very confused, concerned and unsure of what to do. I wanted to help him, but from the look of him, there was not a lot that I could do. I almost ran around the house and was thinking I should just get the hell out of there. When I got to my car and started to open the door, I realized that I still had the videotape in my hand. I had to give him the tape. If I did not give it to him then there was probably going to be a lot more trouble and real soon. I stood next to the car trying to decide what to do. I already had the door open and decided to set down in the car and think about everything. As I climbed in to the car, I bumped the damned steering wheel and the horn on my old car came on with a very loud honk. The sound did not last more than a second, but it seemed to echo around the neighborhood. It sure as hell sounded a lot louder than it usually did. I sat in the car for a few more minutes and then looked up the drive. Dad was standing at the gate coming from the backyard. For a second I thought about starting the car and driving away. I looked at him and he just looked so terrible, my heart just took over. I made up mind to see him through this. I was committed to facing him. I got out of the car and started toward him. As I approached him, he said, "Well where the hell have you been? I've been waiting all goddamn night for you to show up!" I stopped and looked at him, he was still in the backyard, with the fence between us and I figured that if I needed to I could run down the street to get away if he came out after me. The outside light above the garage was on and I could see him pretty well. The sun was beginning to brighten the sky but it was a long time, maybe an hour, before the sun would come up. I walked a little closer to him. I could see the emotions twisting his face. First he would look scared, then mad, then sad, then sick. All these things seemed to pass across his face in a mere tick of time. I looked at him and said, "Good to see you are awake. I came home awhile ago and you were sleeping in the chair. I was even here before that too, but you were not." He said, "Where the hell you been, if you been here already?" I decided to avoid telling him exactly where I had been, at least for now, and said, "Took a little drive, trying to figure out what is happening." He said, "Well it has been a lot of shit . . . bullshit . . . I am going to kill that fucking women! . . . ahhh . . ." I looked at him and I could see all the same things going through his emotions again. I said, "I need some coffee . . . got any made?" He said, "No, not a goddamn thing in the house to drink,nothing" I stared at him and said, "Hey, what about the camping stuff, we used to keep coffee in the chuck box?" He looked at me and said, "Yeah, probably is some in there." I said, "Great, let me go in the garage and check it out." I walked toward him. To get to the garage, without my door opener, I had to go through the back door, which opened onto the patio. He watched me get closer to him. The closer I got, the worse he looked. He looked like he'd been run over by a truck. When I stopped, I was standing on one side of the gate, he on the other. I got a whiff of him and he smelled bad, like vomit. I opened the gate and started to ease past him, he just stood like a statue as I moved around him. He said, "What you got in your hand?" I raised up the videotape and said, "Something we need to talk about in a little while." He said, "I tore the house apart looking for more of those goddamn things . . . where did you get that one?" I said, "It was on the seat of my car." I turned to walk away from him. I had just turned away when I heard rapid foot steps behind me. He was not as drunk as I thought because suddenly he grabbed me by the shoulder and spun me around so that I was facing him. He said, "Give me that goddamn thing!" I looked him square in the face and said, "In a little while you can have it, but first we have coffee and talk." He was clinching and opening his fists. I was scared as hell that he was going to attack me for the tape. He said, "I need that for the lawyer! . . . I already talked to him . . . and he said I needed to get as many tapes as I could . . . " I said, "OK, OK, I get the idea, but first we need to have some coffee, wake up a little and then talk about this particular tape." He relaxed just a little, a kind of worried look on his face. I think he realized that this tape was not like the others he had found. I turned to walk away and this time he did not chase me. I walked on around the house, to the patio area. The smoldering pile of stuff was still on the barbecue but the volume of smoke had actually decreased. He had piled it so heavy that it was smothering its self. The other stuff on the ground was stuff out of the boy's room. I was stupefied by what he was doing, burning all the stuff. Why the hell was he burning everything. I just looked at it for a second and walked on toward the garage. I opened the door to the garage and looked in. It was like a typhoon had blown the place apart. Boxes and boxes of stuff that had been stored in the attic room were now thrown all over the garage. Some of the stuff was winter clothing, but most of it was just garage junk. I waded through it toward the far corner where we had a big standup locker where all the camping equipment was usually stored. The old chuck box was setting on the floor beside the locker. I opened the locker all the camping equipment was still in place. I looked at the stuff, and thought to myself, "Wow, we used to have a lot of fun with this stuff." I opened the chuck box and found the can of coffee that we always kept in there. I grabbed it and waded back through the mess toward the patio door. As I walked out on the patio, dad was standing next to the charcoaler. He had pushed a lot of the pile off the grate and was trying to stomp it out with his shoes. I watched him for about 30 seconds as he tried to put out the smoldering fabrics and plastic stuff. He looked up at me, frustration on his face. I said, "Let me get the hose, we can douse that good and it will put out the burning stuff." I sat the coffee on the patio table, held the tape in my hand on the opposite side of him, and eased past him. I walked out on the pool deck to the hose rack. It only took a second to turn on the water and reel the hose to the area where dad and his burning pile were. The spray nozzle was set on stream and I sprayed down the big pile of stuff, making sure to get everything good and wet. I figured it was better to have it wet than burning. Maybe later I could come out and see what was worth salvaging, if anything. I picked up the coffee and said, "Need a hot cup of this for sure!" I turned and walked through the door into the house. Dad still had not said much, but he had followed me into the house. In the light he looked even worse than I expected. I said, "Why don't you go grab a shower, the coffee will take about 5 minutes to make." He glanced down at his clothing. I recognized the shocked expression on his face, he had not realized he was so dirty until I pointed it out. He looked at me in a strange kind of way and said, "Yeah, think I will get a shower, it has been one hell of a day." I said, "I know what you mean . . . go do it . . . I'll get the coffee to brewing." He did not say anything, just turned and walked away. I looked at the kitchen, it was a mess too. Every dish, pot, pan, all the food, everything had been tossed out of its normal location. The cabinet was covered with stuff. I put the tape on top of the microwave oven and began to move stuff around looking for the coffeepot and all the stuff needed to get the coffee going. I got the coffee started and messed around for about 15 minutes, straightening out things and finding cups. I had to wash the ones that I found, they all had sticky residue in them. Just as I was pouring a cup of the fresh coffee, I heard quiet foot steps and turned to see him back. He looked a little better, his hair was wet and he'd put on a clean shirt andpants. He said, "Guess, I should apologize for the way I treated you awhile ago . . . just a lot of things have happened the past few days . . . not sure I even know what has happened." I looked at him and asked, "Where are the boys?" He got real tense for a second and said, "Nothing to worry about, I got them being taken good care of." I looked kind of shocked with what he said. He must of saw it on my face because he said, "Hey, really they are fine, just had to take them to my friend to keep them from getting caught up in all the troubles around here." He still had not told me exactly where they were, so I said, "OK, . . . but I sure would like to see them . . . I miss them a lot . . . you know?" He looked at me and said, "Well, they will be fine at my . . . OK . . . I took them over to Mt. Pleasant, they are at Tom & Mary's house . . . you remember them right? I work with Tom." I thought I did, but I was not sure, so I said, "I think so . . . but not sure . . ." He said, "Later today we'll go see them if you really want to." I relaxed and said, "OK, later today would be fine . . . maybe." I poured him a cup of coffee and handed it to him. He took it and said, "Thanks, I need this, been drinking a lot since all this started." I laughed and said, "I could tell . . . for a few minutes when I first got here . . . I was not sure I knew you." He looked at me kind of funny like and said, "I don't think I know me either." We stood at the counter sipping our coffee and not saying anything for several minutes. Suddenly Dad kind of sagged, like a huge load had just been tossed on his shoulders. He said, "I think I need to set down." He turned and walked like a zombie toward the front of the house. I followed along behind him, then remembered the tape and returned to the kitchen to get it. I walked back toward the front of the house. He was setting in his chair, the same one he was passed out in when I left him before. He had his head thrown back with his resting on the high cushion of the chair and there were a few tears running down his cheeks. I did not know what to do for the longest time. I moved on over to the sofa and sat down so that I was facing him. Setting on the ottoman in front of him was the box of videotapes that Mandy had put in my room earlier, but now seemed like it had been years ago. I looked at the tapes, wondered what he thought when he found them in my room. He opened his eyes and looked at me. For a second there was this wild look in his eyes, but it slowly faded to a look of confusion. He said, "I found these in your room . . . want to tell me how they got there?" I said, "Sure, Mandy put them in there when they . . . she, mom and Boo, . . . were here . . . god . . . I guess it was yesterday now." He asked, "She put them in your room . . .?" There was a little doubt in his voice. I said, "Honest, she did. When they were here. Just as they were leaving Mandy told me to go find something in my room that she had left for me. It was all those tapes" He looked at me really hard and said, "Why did she do that?" I thought about it for a few seconds, then I said, "She said she wanted me to watch them. She said I needed to see what . . . you were so mad about. Plus, I think they got a plan or something . . . maybe I got some ideas . . .but I don't know what it all might be . . . only that they seem to not be so worried or upset . . . does that make sense to you?" He sipped his coffee and said, "Maybe, I am not sure . . . what is on that tape . . . that one." He pointed at the tape I had in my hand. I said, "Well, I am not sure what it contains . . . I mean all of it . . . I have only seen a minute or two of it . . ." He looked like he was about to explode, but took several deep breaths, then he asked, "Where did you get it?" I started to tell him what I had told him before, that it was on my car seat, but I knew that he would ask enough questions to see that I was not telling him the truth. I looked at him and said, "I got it at . . . Lisa's . . . I went over there while you were passed out . . . I was worried and concerned for them too, you know?" He looked at me and asked again, "What have you seen of it?" I said, "Well, I watched about 3 minutes of it . . . it has you . . . and . . ." He jumped up from the chair and threw his coffee cup across the room. It hit the wall with a thundering crash and a million tiny slivers of glass flew all over the room. He screamed, "That Goddamn Bitch, I am going to kill the fucking whore!" I was sure that he was talking about Mom and I said, "Hey . . . you might not love Mom any more . . . or the girls . . ." That was as far as I got, he yelled at me, "Shut the fuck up . . . you don't understand . . . I love Bev as much as ever . . . its that fucking Lisa . . . the whore . . . that I want to kill!" I was unable to say anything, a whole new twist suddenly was added to the already totally fucked up perspective I had of the mess we were all caught in. He said, "It was that bitch . . . that messed up bitch . . . that started all of this . . . before you were born." I just sat there my mind running a thousand miles an hour wondering what the hell I had missed. I could not believe what I was hearing and there was just nothing in my experiences that would let me comprehend what he was eluding to. I said, "Dad, what the hell are you talking about . . . Lisa . . . I don't understand at all . . ." He said, "Of course not, all the really important stuff happened before you were born, before you were part of it . . . but you are part of it now. . . anyway I have always thought you . . . and the rest of the kids . . . are all part of it anyway." I just could not keep quite and said, "Maybe you better tell me about it." He looked at me with a seriously stressed out look in his eyes, I could see that he was having as hard a time formulating his thoughts as I was. He said, "The beginning . . . where the heck is the beginning . . .?" I figured I might as well let him know what I had learned during the day and I said, "Well, I know a little bit . . . that all us kids . . . well we are test tube babies . . .at least that is what Boo and . . . and Lisa told me. Is that true?" He kind of shrugged his shoulders and said, "Might as well start there I guess." He told me the following story: In his words he said: I met your mother, Beverly, while we were in college. She was a lovely young girl, so beautiful, innocent, sweet, . . . I think I loved her the first time I saw her . . . yet she was so quiet and shy that she hardly would say two words to any one, especially me. I was a grad student and also working at the university in the research programs. I met her in a class she was taking and I was acting as the professor's assistant. Over that semester, because of that class, we spent a lot of time together. I found a way to get her to talk to me, all it took was to act concerned about her interests and to offer to help her learn more. She was a pre-med student, I was a pharmacy major, actually a grad student then. She was in a class that I was involved with. She was studying drugs, specifically those that were being developed for female reproductive problems, they are now called fertility drugs. She wanted to know everything about the new processes and programs, then all new developments, that we were working on to assist women who wanted to have children but could not. During the year I learned a lot about your mother. Most importantly I learned that she could not have children. Of course to me, it was not that important, but to her, it just consumed her, she was totally obsessed by the idea of helping women have children. At first I thought she was just an over serious student, someone caught up in a deep desire to help others, and maybe even herself, have a family. One day when we were doing case studies about couples who had successfully produced children she had an attack, maybe it was anxiety, maybe it was depression, or maybe it was just the stress she had herself under. Anyway, she kind of broke down and told me about herself. More than I expected her to, but not as much as, well, maybe she should have. She never even mentioned that she had a sister at the university too. She was crying and was just in terrible condition. I could see that she was embarrassed to be in the classroom, so I asked her come to the professor's office. I sat with her for a long time, we were in the outer office area. The receptionist who sometimes worked for the professor was not there so we had the office to ourselves. She told me the details of her life as a child and what her adopted father, "THE DOCTOR", she called him, had done to "HELP" her. I just sat and listened to the long and very heart rending story she told. I stayed with her until the class was almost over and I had to hurry back and tell everyone to clean up for the day. When I got back to the office she had curled up on the couch and was sleeping. At first I did not know what to do with her. Before I had left to release the class she had gained control of her emotions, but was clearly totally exhausted and need a lot of rest. So I just let her sleep and went to the inner office to do some paper work and collate the results from the latest research experiments, which I had to do everyday. The university had a computer and I used it a lot, mostly for the statistical studies of the research and also to communicate with the other universities around the country who were also doing similar work. I worked until way late that evening, almost 10:00 PM before I got to tired to continue. She was still sleeping soundly on the couch in the outer office. She looked like an angel lying there on the lumpiest couch in the world. I watched her for a long time, probably 15 minutes before I decided it was necessary to wake her. I think it was those few short minutes during which I feel absolutely totally in love with her. Maybe it was her attitude, maybe it was her personality, or maybe I just felt really sorry for her and for some reason decided that I could help her. It was both the best time and worst time of my whole life, even now. I finally laid my hand on her shoulder and gave her a couple of light shakes. She opened her eyes and looked at me. There was a little panic in her expression, I think I surprised her. She sat up and ran her fingers through her hair and told me that she had not meant to go to sleep. I told her that it was ok that she was so tired and the bodies reaction to stress was to shutdown by going to sleep. It was dark in the room now, the sun having long since gone down. She looked at me and glanced at the clock on the wall, it was well after 10:00 PM. She got up and stumbled around the room like she was looking for something. I asked her what it was she needed. She said she was looking for her stuff. I had not thought about her stuff in the classroom, but I figured it was still in there. So I told her we could go check and see if it was still on her lab table. We went to the classroom. The maintenance staff or security had locked the door, but I had my key and we opened the door and went inside. Her stuff was still exactly where she had left it, books open and everything. I watched her as she gathered it up. She came back to where I was standing and told me it had been really nice of me to put up with her babbling. I looked at her and said that anytime she wanted to talk or needed my help that I would be happy to do what ever she wanted me to do. She smiled at me and said that I could walk her to the parking lot to her car. I followed along behind. We did not talk all the way out to the car. When we got there she asked me if I wanted a ride somewhere. I was staying on campus in one of the graduate apartments and told her that I could walk there probably quicker than she could take me. She told me that she would like for me to ride with her. So I did. She had a pretty nice car, for a student that is. A Toyota that was just a few years old, but it started right up and we drove out of the parking lot. I told her where to take me. As we drove over to the housing area she sat kind of straight up in the drivers seat and kept glancing at me, like there was something on her mind. I kept glancing at her too. When we got to the housing area, she pulled up in front of the duplex that I lived in and shut off the engine of the car. I got the message that she really did not want to be alone, so I asked her if she would like to come in for a coke and sandwich; something to eat, whatever I had in the refrigerator. She hesitated for a long second, I could see the indecision running through her. I moved to get out of the car. Figuring that if she could not make a quick decision that she probably would not come in. As I got out I wished her a good night and that I hoped to see her again, if nowhere but in class. I closed the door and started walking up the short sidewalk to the door. Just as I got to the entry door, I heard the door of a car shutting. She was out of the car and hurrying around it. She had made her decision. I waited for her at the door. We went in the little apartment, it had a small study area where I had a big desk that I had gotten from the local thrift store, a small kitchenette in the same room and a bedroom with a bathroom, nothing fancy, purely functional. It was great for what I needed, just a place to crash for a few hours of much needed sleep and to occasionally burn the midnight oil to get a rush job done. By the time I meet Bev, I was hardly ever did anything there but sleep. I spent most of my time at the university hall where we did the research. When I first went to work as a research assistant, I thought I would spend a lot more time at the apartment than I did. So I had asked to have a terminal installed in the apartment. The professor I worked for was a heck of a nice guy and he took care of it. Initially I did spent a lot of late nights at that computer. However, I felt like I was in a dungeon and just out of necessity to keep my sanity I gravitated toward the hall, research lab and the professor's office. It became a common part of our relationship to spend a lot of time every night going through the computer and looking at the results of the research being done at the university. That first night, I went to the kitchen and rummaged in the refrigerator. I had a few things, bread, peanut butter and cokes, but that was about it. I ate most of my meals in the faculty lounge and only had the stuff to keep the midnight munches under control. I sat it all out and she fixed herself something. I was not hungry at all. I was just excited that I had finally been able to get her alone. I did not know what to do, I mean was not sure if I should make a pass at her, or just let her stay as long as she wanted and just be a gentlemen. She brought her food over to the study area and put in on the desk edge, I had two chairs and she took one of them. I sat down at the desk in the other and watched her as she ate. She asked me what it was like to be a professor. I realized then that she thought I was the professor. I laughed and said I did not know since I was not one. She looked at me kind of funny like I was joking with her. I explained to her that I was only a student assistant, just a grad student, working on a master in pharmacology. That I intended to be a pharmacist, just the guy at the drug store who filled the little bottles with stuff that someone else told me to put in them. She thought that I was being funny, but I wasn't. That is really what I wanted to do back then but she and well mostly Lisa caused all that to change. It was at the end of that year when I decided to work on being a research scientist, which meant I had to get more than a master degree. I sat there watching her eat her food and wondering what to talk about. She solved my dilemma by asking me a lot of questions about me, where I was from, who my parents were what they did, all about me. I answered them, mostly in shortened versions of my life, but she was getting to know me, and relaxing more and more. We laughed and talked about the university and what it meant to both of us. I asked a few questions about her and she answered them. I stayed away from the traumatic things she had told me earlier, worried that I would upset her again. We discovered a lot about each other, especially that we had a lot of common interests. Our interests were similar, but the reasons were a lot different. She actually was studying to be a doctor and wanted to specialize in reproductive areas, to help people have families. I was in school because I wanted to make a good living. At first she was upset that the only reason I was there was to get a good job making a lot of money and she told me so. I was as surprised at her and told her that all the things that motivated her are things that never really seemed so important to me because I had never experienced them. That made her real serious for awhile and she began to talk more about her upbringing and the "DOCTOR" and her mother. She talked about both of them with such venom and hate I could not believe it. I told her that too and she got kind of mad at me. I thought she was going to leave, she stood up and marched around the room. Finally I had to tell her that I did not understand a lot of it and it would take me awhile to do so. She was still fuming at me, but I think she understood that I was willing to look at things from her perspectives anyway. We talked way on into the early morning. I don't think either one of us really cared what time it was, however, about 2:30 AM she got a concerned look on her face and started picking up stuff, the bread and peanut butter. I figured she was going to leave soon and I did not want to look like I was trying to keep her there, even though I really did not want her to leave. She kept fiddling with the small stuff and hanging around like she wanted me to do something. She even cleaned the small sink in the kitchen, even though we had not used it. I told her it was getting late or more appropriately early and she made a move to the door. I blurted out that she did not have to leave that she could sleep in the bedroom and I would sleep on the floor next to the desk, I had an old sleeping bag that I carried around with me. Even then I loved to escape by going camping and had a few things that I took with me when I did. She told me that I did not have to sleep on the floor that I could sleep on the bed with her, but I had to be a good boy and let her sleep. We both laughed at that. She got a stressed look in her eye and slumped down in the chair again. I just automatically sat down with her. My whole body was kind of shivering and shaking and I hoped she did not see it. I was so excited that she was going to stay I was literally on cloudnine. She continued to act kind of glum for a while, not saying a word. I realized that there was something else she wanted to tell me. I asked her what was on her mind and she said she needed to call and tell her roommate that she would be staying out all night. I said she could use my phone. I did have a phone, it was provided the university, heck I was so poor I could never have paid for it. The university provided it since I needed it to log on the university computer. She still acted glum about it. I asked her what the problem was and then she told me that her roommate was actually her sister. I was curious about that since she had told me she was adopted and said so. She still looked glum for a long time like there was something else she was really afraid to tell me. I just sat and waited for her to make a move. She got a determined look in her eyes and stood up. I pointed to the phone and she walked around the desk to where the regular phone was and picked up and dialed. She held the phone to her ear and looked at me. When it was picked up on the other end the noise must of hurt her ear because she jerked it away from her head and stared at it. I could hear the high pitched sound of loud music coming over the phone. She held the phone in front of her mouth and yelled at it. The loud sound disappeared and she held it to her ear. She told the person on the other end that she was not coming home that she was at a friends house studying. The person on the other end wanted to discuss it but she told them that she had to go and simply hung up the phone on them. She had a triumphant look in her eyes and I could see that she was doing something she had probably never done before or at least she was doing something against the wishes of the other person. She looked at me and saw that I was concerned and she said that she would take care of it later. I told her that I did not want to get her in trouble. She laughed at me and said that she was an adult, her parents were no longer around and she could make up her own mind. I just smiled at her and she laughed at me. We made no move to call it a night. We continued to talk and laugh about our experiences at the university and how much fun we were having. She told me that she was happy that I had made the effort to talk to her and help her in class. That she did not have a lot of friends and did not really go out at all. I asked her about her sister and for a long moment I was not sure she was going to tell me anything. She then told me a few things that were a little bit of shock. She said that like her, that her sister was also an adopted child, the DOCTOR had adopted both of them because of serious health problems that their parents had. She said that both she and her sister's natural fathers died because of genetically inherited disease. The DOCTOR, their eventual father by adoption, had been the physician for their fathers. Both were adopted when they were just small infants and that neither had ever seen their natural parents. Both of them had been tested for genetic traits and she and her sister were carriers of the same disease, which killed their fathers. This meant that if they had children of their own there was a high probability, maybe a much as 50/50, the disease would be passed to any male children they had. That was the reason the DOCTOR had given them for making it so that neither could have children. Also that the disease usually only attacked the males, seldom if ever did a female get it, but that the female children, if she or her sister had any, would probably never develop the symptoms of the disease, just be carriers of the disease. I was very curious about all of it and she saw my questioning looks. She told me that the disease they carried in their genes, is what is called a recessive genetic trait which meant that there was a very low probability that female children would have the actual disease, but a higher one that male children will. We talked about it for a long time. I realized from that conversations that she was pretty much obsessed with her condition. I just did not realize then how much it would impact the rest of our lives. Yes, I was totally infatuated with her. I was scared, worried, terribly interested in her and thought that I could help her with what she wanted to learn. I helped her too, probably more than I should have and in ways that were then and even now, unethical. She spent that night and many, many, many more at my place. She was interested in what I was working on and I told her most of it. The part that interested her most was the studies that we were doing on drugs and their effects on egg fertilization. Not only did the university have a nationally funded effort of it's own, we also had access to almost every database in the country that was involved in the research, all the university ones anyway. When we first started spending so much time together, which was in her second year of school and my first year as a grad assistant, we both knew very little about the whole process. She was just an undergraduate and I was just a glorified data entry person. I had a BS degree in Pharmacology, but she had only her intense drive to learn. Between the two of us, combined with the classes available to her, we taught each other a lot. We learned and learned and learned, maybe we knew as much as anybody in the country. Sometimes I thought even more, since we had so much information and from so many sources. In her senior year, emphasis began to shift away from laboratory animal research and more toward human subjects. In the beginning there were a number of techniques, some simple, such as just collecting eggs from the female, putting the eggs back into her womb and injecting donor semen. There was even a program, a super complex process, of totally test-tube grown zygotes or fetus. Then all the human rights people got wind of what we were doing and the crap hit the fan. Most of the totally out of womb processes were severely restricted. So many restrictions that we almost stopped all efforts at external egg fertilization, in a test tube. Anyway during the short time when we did not work on the external methods there was still a lot of effort put into the other methods. Most of these methods involved helping the natural methods of fertilization, women were given drugs to induce egg production and men with low sperm counts were also included in the drug programs. We had some success and some failure, but all in all we contributed at lot to the current practices. During one research effort we had to find a number of female subjects that were sterile. Most desirable were females that had to have their ovaries removed but were otherwise perfectly normal. Ovaries are removed for a number of different reasons, maybe the subject had cancer, or they had major infections or cysts that caused their system to be dysfunctional or just birth defects. As you know your mother is just such a person, other than the fact that she also is a carrier of the disease her father died from. In some ways that made her a better candidate for the program than if she had been totally normal, just sterile. As you can imagine, when the announcement was made that we needed women like that, she was wildly excited. I tried to talk her into waiting to see how successful the programs would be, but nothing I could do would change her mind. So in the final decision she did what she wanted to do and that was volunteer for the program. That was when the real problems came up, first was they wanted only married women and they initially rejected her application. Second was that she was a student, they did not want to take students. Then they wanted all candidates to have special counseling, and that was the biggest concern of all, and in the end almost got her rejected. She was so obsessed at being accepted that she and I had to do some things that we probably regretted for a long time, but over time the regrets went away for me anyway. We got married, even though we had never slept together. Yes, that does sound strange, she had been spending so much time at my place, we had known each other for over two years, everything would have made any normal person think that we were sleeping together, but we didn't. Us getting married really worried me, I mean there were a lot of things that I did not know, but I found them all out. What I found out almost made me not marry her. There is a lot to the story about how she and I decided to get married other than the fact that the study required it. I had not met Lisa until after we decided to get married. Bev and I had a lot of long discussions about the idea and we both came to accept that we could get married and then divorced if things did not work out. Sure I was excited by the idea that I would finally get her to bed, she was such a fabulously beautiful girl, heck, what man would not love the idea. We had it all worked out, between us, and then Lisa got involved. Until then I was just excited and the full impact of what I was getting into did not hit me until I met Lisa. We met at my place. There was no way that I could get Bev to take me over to her place. In the whole time we had been together I had never met Lisa or ever been invited to where they were staying. The first time we met it was like I was meeting Bev's mother. Lisa came across as being the one to make all the decisions and we were supposed to do exactly what she wanted us to. That first time I mostly just sat and listened to the two of them discuss things. One topic that kept coming up over and over again was Lisa's concern about them. Lisa kept asking over and over, "What about us?" Several times Bev had simply ignored her and went on like it was not important. I thought that Lisa's concern was about their situation, I mean, the way they shared everything in their lives. Housing, cars, food, bank accounts, and all the other things that a family usually has in common. I did try a couple of times to assure Lisa that the relationship between her and Bev would not change. Every time I said something about them Lisa gave me a look that would freeze the balls off a hockey player. After about my third time to make things ok with Lisa, she looked at me and said, "You don't know what we are talking about, so shut up!" I did not say anything else the entire time she was there. Heck, I was afraid to. I realized that what ever was being discussed that I had to know more and that I would not get it from Lisa. So I waited until Lisa left. I tried to be diplomatic about it. I asked Bev what all the crap with Lisa was about. At first she would not talk about it. Finally, way late in the evening, when it became very clear to Bev that I would not go through with the marriage idea unless she told me, she got mad and told me most of what caused me to have a lot of misgivings and produced all the regrets. You got to remember that most, no all of it, was happening during the late 1970's and early 1980's, I am talking about between Bev and me. The stuff she told me about Lisa and her, well I guess that had been going on for a long time before, perhaps even as early as their childhood. Bev made a very rational story out of something that I am sure is not rational at all, at least not now. Bev told me that they were not related genetically. Legally, under law, maybe they were, but they had never really checked into it. I accepted that as being true since they were both adopted children. She explained that even though "The Doctor" and their mother took good care of them, making sure that all their physical needs, food, shelter and other needs were satisfied that they never really loved them. That made me curious and I asked her to explain. She got really depressed and told me that they never really loved them. Not the way other parents loved their kids. I asked her how she knew this and she said that they just knew. They were treated different from how other kids parents treated their kids, that the doctor never once in his entire life did he ever hug them and tell them he cared for them. Their mother treated them more as house guests, long term ones, but still as house guests. I got the idea that the two of them just never felt the love and said that maybe it was just because of the generation that her parents were from. That made her mad again and she told me that her parents did have kids, kids of their own. I was shocked and she saw it. She kept on going telling me that the real kids were much older, like 20 years old when both she and Lisa were brought into the house. The older kids were loved, they got hugged, kissed and told how much they were loved, but we never got that treatment, never. I felt really bad about what she was saying and I told her. She got brave then and told me about how she and Lisa had decided that since their parents did not love them that they had to love each other. I liked that, I mean the two of them were actually making up for the lack of love from their parents by loving each other and I told her. She said that in the beginning it was just two little girls who made up for the lack of love from the adults in their lives by loving each other. I was a little clued in by that and it dawned on me that there was a type of relationship that I had not expected. Bev must of saw the look of awareness on my face because she told me that what I was thinking was true. I still could not accept it and I made her tell me all of it. She told me a lot of things that I never thought possible, but I was so shocked I guess I just accepted it. When she finished her story I still had a thousand questions but I was unable to think of anything to ask. She asked me what I thought, being in such a state, I said that I guess that I could adjust to the way it had been. She got super serious over that and said that things between she and Lisa probably would never change. I was in such a state of confusion that I did not realize what she was saying, not at that time, but later it was made clear to me. The whole situation became clear the next time that Lisa came over to my place. From the very beginning of that visit it was clear to me that Bev had told Lisa that I knew about them. I still had not fully realized the depth of the whole situation, but after that visit it was clear as a bell. I had another long discussion with Bev after Lisa left. I wanted a lot of questions answered and I told Bev that if she did not give good answers that I would not go through with the marriage. I got straight answers. The most important answer I got was that if we got married would she sleep with me. She said of course she would. I made it clear to her that I did not want to marry a lesbian. She got all upset at my using that word and told me she was not a lesbian. I was not all that convinced and told her so. She looked really serious for a long time before she answered me. She told me that she had never slept with a man. I was shocked, I could not believe that she could have sex with Lisa and not have sex with a man, especially if she was going to marry me. But the way she looked at me and the way she said it made me realize that she was telling me the truth. So I asked her if she was having sex with Lisa and she had never had sex with a man, how did she know she was not a lesbian. She just said that she was not a lesbian, that sex with a man had always excited her, just that she had never really had the chance to do it. I told her that I had been around for over two years now and that I would have loved to have sex with her. She looked at me with a very grave look on her face and she said that she had never had sex with me because she loved me to much. At first I did not know what to say. So I just shook my head and waited for her to continue. She told me that she had wanted to have sex with me from the very beginning, then we got so caught up in all the studies that it just seemed inappropriate for her to do it. I was not sure exactly what to say but I did manage to tell her that I had wanted to have sex with her too. She got really quiet and said that we could do it anytime I wanted to. That night we started having sex and she was as good at it as I had hoped. To a great extent everything we did after that was because we had such great sex. We got married about a week later. The school would still not allow her to be a student and participate in the study, so she just dropped out, withdrew from every class and took an incomplete for the year. The counseling was the toughest part. Apparently someone knew about her and Lisa or maybe Lisa who was still dead set against the whole situation had told someone. All we knew was that the school knew all about it. If we had not done some really unacceptable things Bev would not have been allowed in the program. What we did was to use the computer terminal that I had to get into the database of candidates and change some things. We got some of the other candidates turned down because of things that they supposedly had done. Like drug use, I mean changed things to say that they had tested positive for marijuana and even said a couple of them showed dishonest characteristics, nothing that would ever get back to the candidate, but things that meant automatic disqualification. When a person volunteered to participate in the research program, other than an initial interview to introduce them to the project, no one involved in the effort knew them. That is a requirement of science. Science like Justice is blind. There is always a lot of concern that if someone involved in a research project knows the individuals involved then data could be interpreted to save embarrassment or because you like the person, there are literally hundreds of reasons that people have contaminated research programs. So to prevent these human problems, other than the initial interviews, which were actually done by a special group set up by the university. None of us directly in the research program were involved in the interview and selection process. We never knew the names of the people selected to be in the program, that includes the females and males. Oh yeah, we did have male participants who were the sperm donors and females that were egg donors and then the females that were selected to be the recipients of the fertilized egg. About these egg and sperm donors, they were also volunteers, but they were from a special group. All were solicited donors. None were openly solicited, meaning we did not go out and just ask for volunteers from the general population, like we did for the group that Bev was in. See what I mean here is that we wanted to use eggs and sperm from special people. People that were for one reason or another outstanding specimens of humanity. That almost got us in trouble too. The human rights people went crazy, accusing us of selective breeding. They accused of us of trying to create pedigreed human beings. The only thing that kept the programs from being cancelled then and there was that by the time the human rights people found out about it we were well into the program and it was to late to change. So what Bev and I had to do to get her into the program probably would have caused the cancellation the whole program. She was rejected because of her less than truthful answers about her life with Lisa. She was rejected again because of psychology studies, they determined that she would not accept failure of the program very well. Keep in mind that not only did we have the actual females that we inseminated, we also had a control group who participated in the entire program, including all the procedures, except they were not implanted. That was necessary to evaluate all the physiological affects of the process, especially the invasive procedures used. We had to know how the procedures affected them in a physical way, even though they did not get pregnant. That was another thing that we had to find out. Bev was just so obsessed by the whole idea that she would not consider the possibility that she was in the control group. She was fortunate that she was never in the control group. But she still insisted that we find out for sure. OK, so we did a lot of things, probably all of them bad. We changed other peoples status in the program, we changed Bev's status, we figured out so many of the details that we knew each and every participant, and there were 50 of them. We could have gotten into serious trouble if even one little item of what we did ever came out. Once I even suggested to her that I try to get into the sperm donor area of the research. She threw such a fit that I immediately dropped the idea. But it, now I wish that I had. During the course of the research the fertilization participants, like Bev, were implanted a maximum of four times. The first series of implantations were a total failure across the entire group. None of them accepted the zygote, which is what a fertilized egg is called scientifically. We knew a lot about the requirements or conditions the female must be under to get natural fertilization to occur. For instance certain hormonal conditions must exist within her body before any women will conceive naturally. We attempted to achieve these conditions with drugs, but in the beginning we knew very little about the doses and things like that. We also learned that different women have different systematic requirements when it comes to hormones. To achieve the correct bodily condition required each women to be treated independently. Doses had to be tailored to each one of them. We did not really know that in the beginning, we just gave everyone the same drug doses and waited a couple of days to see how things developed and then implanted. After the first go round we dropped back and began an intensive study of each one of them and on the second round we got a one or two that were successful. Bev was not in that group, but she was excited by it, heck we all were. Bev knew that she would only be implanted four times and after the failures of the second round to produce adequate or acceptable results, she got really worried that we would not achieve her goal for her. We were still learning and on the third round we got nearly a 50% take of those we implanted, again Bev was not one of the ones to take. On the fourth and last round of fertilizations we again achieved nearly 50%, and Bev got her wish, we got you. Over all the program was determined to be a success, we got results that far exceeded what we thought we would get, more than 30 of the women in the group achieved fertilization and then carried the baby full term. Of course once the program was over, all the control group individuals were informed that they had not been fertilized and were all given a chance to participate in the next studies. The story about the rest of the kids is similar, but different in some ways. Since we already had one child, you, the continued participation in the various research programs was made much easier for us. After your birth and the obvious happiness that it brought Bev, she was invited to participate, almost anyway. We continued to watch the data collected from the various programs. We had all the codes, the ones used to obscure the results about specific individuals, so more of just curiosity than anything we continued to watch the individual results. Also in many ways the philosophy of the programs began to shift. In the beginning we were developing and testing the techniques of egg fertilization. We all thought that the greatest challenge would be to get the egg fertilized outside the womb and successfully transferred to the subject female. In many respects we were wrong about that. We discovered an astonishing amount of information that was individually specific. All the things about the individuality of hormone effects on women. None of us expected the hormone treatments to have to be so individually specific. We thought that we would come up with a miracle pill, a single dose of hormones that when taken by a female would make all the necessary conditions occur to allow her to be easily inseminated with a fertilized egg. We were totally incorrect about that. What we ultimately came up with was not a single pill, but a program of therapy, individually designed and implemented. We discovered that most women would require several months of treatments before they would be in the perfect condition to allow implantation to be successful. Medicine in practical application has to be successful for a very large percentage of the population before it becomes economical. Many of the women we worked with required hundreds of hours of individual treatment by the team. We realized that yes it took a finely tuned technique to get the egg fertilized, but that would eventually become a standard laboratory technique. The acceptance of the zygote by the female became the greatest of all challenges. Since no single miracle pregnant pill seemed realistically achievable, we abandoned the effort to produceone. That is what had the most significant impact on philosophy of our efforts. We had lots of meetings to finally come up with a plan to make the treatment of the females much more humanistic. Keep in mind that by design, it is required that a scientific process be totally unbiased, this ultimately means that it be less humanistic in philosophy. This change created huge rifts between the pure science and practical application of the research. There were individuals that actually cared less for the participants in the research than they did for the results. The impact on the efforts by these various personal philosophies of the scientists, doctors and pharmacology people created such differing views that lines of separation inside the program developed. A lot of screaming and hollering between individuals in the group resulted. Ultimately it was these huge differences in opinion that caused the research projects at the university to come to an end. The purists got so upset by the introduction of humanist perspectives that they declared the results scientifically invalid. Of course the practical, more humanistic group members could not argue with them, but the results and final application to the real world spoke much louder to humanists than did the need for valid scientific results. So we split off from the university and began looking for corporate affiliation. No matter what the pure scientist likes or dislikes, ultimately the final test of any research comes when it becomes successful financially. The only way that pure science data becomes practical is when it makes money for some company and provides benefit to the general population. So the year after you were born a group of us from the university split off and created a small company. That is basically the way things happened in the early days. A lot more needs to be told but I not now. With those words he got really quiet and just sat looking at the floor. I watched him as he shook his head, wondering what he had on his mind, but I could tell that he was not going to say anything more about him and mom. I had a million questions flashing through my mind most of which I felt were to far beyond what he had already said to ask at the present time. I saw that his coffee cup was empty and said, "You want some more coffee?" His head snapped up like I had startled him. He had that crazy look in his eyes again and I said, "Hey, calm down!" He jumped up from the couch and started to leave the room. I watched him walk across the room. I was afraid to say anything to him. The way he walked away I knew that what ever he had on his mind or where ever he was going was probably not going to be good for anyone. I looked down at my hands and saw I had placed the video on the floor next to the chair. Sometime during his long story I had absentmindedly placed it on the floor. I looked at his back as he left the room, he was still in the room with me but just barely. I said, "Hey Dad, there is one more thing we need to talk about!" He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to look at me. I held up the videotape so he could see it. He got a super pissed look on his face and almost ran back across the room. As he was coming toward me he said, "I need all those fucking things to give to the lawyer!" I said, "You probably best watch this one before you give any of them to him." He looked at me with a strange kind of expression on his face, kind of a questioning look. I said, "This one is different than the others." He looked at me and said, "Yeah, well I bet it is more of those lesbian bitches fucking each other." I said, "NO, it is of you! Remember I already told you." He slumped down on the couch and said, "Yeah, I remember, I am just so fucking tired, I have not slept worth a crap since all this started." I watched him as he rubbed his face with the palms of his hands. He did not look anything like "MY DAD", more like a street person, so haggard, pale and tired looking. I sat quietly letting him get his self together. Waiting for him to tell me what to do next. He hardly moved for what felt like a terribly long time. I looked at the videotape in my hands and sucked a big breath of air and let it out with a sigh that was much more audible than I expected with the room being so quiet. Dad glanced up at me and for the first time he actually smiled at me and said, "Been a tough day . . . on you to . . . I imagine?" I smiled back at him and even though the situations we were all in were not funny, I could not keep myself from laughing. I tried to hold the laugh back, but only succeeded in making a strange kind of strangled sound. Dad thought that was funny and he began to laugh too and that set me in to a fit of laughing. He watched me laughing, with a big smile on his face and I saw that light he normally had in his eyes come back to his face. The laughing slowly died off and I sat looking at him and he looking at me. We held eye contact for a long time and I could see the love he had for me flowing back through him. I said, "Dad, I love you . . . I don't care . . . well, not I don't care . . . it's more like I love you and all the things that have happened will never change that. In some ways I think life is getting more interesting . . . even though it seems kind of strange." My voice kind of trailed off and he looked at me in a very serious way. He said, "I think I know what you mean, but there are still a lot of things that you do not know . . . things that make a lot of what I have been doing more important than you realize." I said, "OK, I can accept that . . . I would like to learn about those things . . . but I also know that it will take a long time before most of the details come out . . . maybe some of them never will?" He said, "That is true . . . but if the details do not come out . . . I . . . damn, maybe it will be because most of them have actually been forgotten or lost because of the confusion created by the . . . because of how long ago most of it happened." I realized that he was telling me that I would probably not be allowed to learn or hear about some of the things that went on. For a minute I wanted to just go away, find a place to escape all of the bullshit. Dad must have seen the look of desolation that I felt cross my face because he slowly stood up and walked across the room and placed his hands on my shoulder. He said, "Well Big Guy, we best get some rest . . . I don't know about you . . . but I been awake or drunk for the past 3 days." I looked up at him and said, "OK, I think I could go to sleep setting right here." I reached out to touch his arm and he grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. He wrapped his arms around me and we stood hugging each other. I held him as long as he held me, until I felt his arms began to loosen their grip around me. We stepped apart and he looked me right in the eye and said, "Get some rest!" He turned and walked across the room, I followed along behind him. He suddenly stopped and I almost bumped into him. He started laughing again. I wondered what was so funny. He said, "We are going the wrong direction, no beds back there!" It dawned on me that he was talking about where we were going to sleep. His and Mom's room was empty since she and the girls had taken almost everything over to Lisa's place. I said, "What about the girl's room and my room?" He laughed and said, "Well . . . I kind of tore a few things up . . . looking for things." He turned to look at me and I said, "I got to use the restroom . . . what about the toilet . . . it still work?" He laughed and said, "Yep, probably the only thing that is still where it used to be." I slipped past him and walked down the hall toward the bathroom. I had to walk pass the door into my room I stopped in the door. I was to astonished to walk past. The light was on and the place was a total shambles, all the furniture was moved around, the bed was just a big pile of cotton. It looked like he had torn the mattress completely apart. I made it to the bathroom, it too was in pretty bad shape, all the stuff from the cabinets and drawers thrown into a big pile in the middle of the floor. Even the drawers from the vanity were thrown on the pile. He had certainly done a thorough job of searching the place. I managed to wade through the mess to the toilet. It was full of medicines, there were little empty bottles all around the toilet bowl, most of the contents had been dumped into the bowl which had not been flushed. I flushed it, for a second I thought it was going to back up and overflow. Just as the water level got to the top edge of the bowl the pile of pills blocking the flow gave way and everything went down the drain with a big whoosh. I was relieved to see it disappear, even though I had no idea what he had thrown in the toilet. I dropped my pants and sat down on the toilet seat. Several of the empty bottles were close enough for me to pick up off the floor. I sat there looking at all the bottles, knowing that I had never seen that many bottles of pills around the house before. We are all basically healthy and I could not imagine who in the house would be taking so many different drugs. I picked up one of the bottles lying next to my foot. I read the label, in big red letters, diagonally across the label was the word "EXPERIMENTAL - NOT FOR HUMAN CONSUMPTION". In smaller letters it had the name of company Dad worked for, "SciGen", other information about the company, a set of directions on taking the medication and then at the very bottom was the letters, "Pgm: #3A-3G-3Z" and finally, the word, Subject: "M-8877". It meant nothing to me, just a bunch of gobble-gook on a medicine bottle. I thought it was kind of strange that the bottle would have the words not for human consumption and then directions on taking it. I sat the first down and picked up another bottle. It had much the same information, the only difference was a change in the number doses per day. I gathered as many of the bottles and read the labels as I could reach all of them saying basically the same thing. I was curious about the bottles, I wondered what they might have contained and I realized that this was just another one of those details that Dad had talked about. Maybe if I asked he would tell me, but probably not now. I finished my business and then it dawned on me that I had left the videotape in the front room. I quickly organized my clothing and hurried back toward the front of the house. Dad was not in the front room. I looked around the chair where I had been setting and the tape was gone too. On a hunch I walked toward the door to Dad's office. He was setting at his desk his back toward the door and watching the TV set. He was playing the videotape. Even from across the room I could see that he was watching a different section of the tape than I had seen, or maybe just more time had passed, since we had not rewound the tape at Lisa's. I quietly slipped into the room and stood next to his desk, he still had not heard me. The scene on the TV was a super close-up shot of a huge penis going into a cunt. As the penis went in, the volume of the set was not very loud, but I heard a sound kind of like gargling. I could see the man's hands grab hold of the waist of the women and hold her from pulling away from him. It was clear that the girl was in pain, the sounds of whimpering replaced the gargling. The girl almost screamed, she was crying and whimpering, she said, "Oh, you are hurting me, it hurts, I can not do it, Oh, it's hurting me real bad, stop, please don't . . . please, god you got to stop . . . ahhhhhh!" I was mesmerized by what was happening on the screen. At the same time, I was appalled that it was happening and the way it was happening. It was impossible for me to understand how any man could subject another person to such pain. For a long second I could not believe that the man on the screen was my dad, but I knew it had to be him. The view on the screen held steady for a long time, much longer than seemed necessary. I watched the penis at it went deeper and deeper into the girl. She had stopped trying to get away from him and was just crying and kept saying over and over, "Please stop, it hurts so bad." One of the man's hands turned loose of the girl's waist and rapidly disappeared off the screen and then appeared again. He was holding a very small bottle the top was open. He tilted the bottle up and dumped the contents, a white powdered, directly onto the girl's asshole. He simple tossed the bottle away and grabbed the girl around the waist and held on to her. What ever he put on her took a few seconds to have an affect on her because she had hardly moved. She said, "Something is burning me, help me, please help me, it burns!" I recognized my Dad's voice when he said, "Just wait a few seconds, it will stop burning, and the pain will stop." The girl did not say a word back, just continued to cry and moan. As I watched I could see only the girl's ass, since the camera was still zoomed in so close. After a few seconds some of the stress seemed to diminish in her buttocks and I could see her spread her knees just a little. I heard a huge sigh and she said, "I thought you were killing me, god it hurt so bad, now it don't hurt so bad and there is a nice warm feeling down there." The man laughed and said, "Yeah, just wait a few more minutes and it will be OK." The girl, even though she was still sobbing just a little, said, "OK". I had not realized it until the girl started to relax that my cock was hard as stone and was really kinked up in my pants. I moved to make myself more comfortable and when I did, my clothing made a rustling noise. Dad heard me and looked back over his shoulder at me. He turned back toward the TV and pressed the off button, but did not stop the videotape player. I adjusted myself so I was little more comfortable while he had his back to me. As the picture on the screen disappeared he turned in the chair so that he was facing me. He said, "Well, guess I know enough about the tape now." I said, "OK, . . . ah . . . ?" He looked at me and said, "So who gave this to you?" I said, "Well, Boo actually gave it to me . . . but I think Lisa might have been the one to actually send it to you." "Why do you think that?" he asked. "Because of what went on while I was over there awhile ago and the way Lisa acted the whole time." He did not say anything for a long time. I could see that he was thinking about the implications of the tape. While he was thinking I eased over and sat down on the couch across the room. He sat for long time, rubbing his face and running his hands through his hair. He finally looked at me and said, "Changes my plans a lot, but still I have to do what I have to do." I said, "OK, so what do you have to do . . . more importantly . . . to me anyway . . . is what do WE have to do?" He looked at me kind of funny and said, "Well, I am in deep shit, not just because of this tape . . . I mean . . . sure I did that to the girl, hell I don't even remember her name . . . Cynthia . . . Sandy . . . something like that." I said, "Her name is Cindy." He said, "Yeah, right . . . I remember now . . . she was so sweet . . . she was Mandy's friend . . . or something." I said, "Yes that is right too . . . you know . . . don't . . . shit, do you know how old she was . . . or what Mandy says about her age?" He looked at me and said, "I really don't know how old she is . . . or was . . . that was a couple years ago . . ." I said, "Mandy said that Cindy was 14 when the video was taken . . . you did not know that . . . I mean crap Dad . . . she was so small . . . look at her . . . she is just a little-bitty girl . . ." He got a kind of mad look on his face and said, "You do not know all the story . . . I did not know about this tape . . .ah, shit." I guess he realized then that it did not matter that the tape even existed. What really mattered was that he had done it at all. He got a really hard look on his face and said, "Still it does not change anything, I am still going to fuck that bitch, I am going to get her out of my fucking life once and for all!" He did not have to tell me who he was talking about, from everything he had said before it was very clear to me he was talking about Lisa. I said, "What about Mom and the girls?" He said, "I never wanted them to leave . . . your Mom has been a basket case for years . . . all the drugs and shit we did to her . . . I wanted to do the right thing years ago . . . get rid of Lisa I mean . . . but your Mom would never agree to anything that got Lisa out of our lives." I looked at him and realized that there was a lot of things I did not understand and perhaps I never would. He seemed to want to keep us together as a family, but he was so warped out over Lisa that he was not fully rational. I said, "Let's get some rest, I am falling asleep right here." He said, "Good idea, but I don't think I can sleep. You just lean back right there on the couch." I said, "I will lay down, but only if you will too." He had that deep sad look in his eyes again. He was obviously so spaced out that he was nearly insane. I said, "Look, if we are going to get this all straightened out you got to be rested. If you keep this up . . . I mean . . . and no offense . . . man you look like shit." He kind of shrugged his shoulders and started to ignore me. I said, "Look asshole, if we are going to save anything, anything at all, we got to be in good shape, mentally and physically." He got a kind of pissed look in his eyes. I had never before used such strong words with him, but they did seem to get his attention. I said, "Now get your ass over there on the other couch and let's get some rest!" He glanced around the room like it was a prison cell and he was looking for an escape route. I said, "Come on Dad, get some rest. I love you and I am going to need your help and you need mine. Please come over here and lay down." He looked like a little lost boy for a second. He said, "OK . . . guess I could rest a little while." He stood up and began to walk across the room. He looked out the door of the office in to the house and said, "Maybe I should go turn out the lights and . . ." I did not let him get any further. I hopped up and walked over to him, took his hand and kind of lead him to the other couch. I said, "Lay down, I'll go do everything that needs to be done." He dropped on to the couch in a setting position. I had to push him backward to get him lay down on the couch. I grabbed the comforter off the back of the couch and spread it over him and took one of the pillows off the floor and placed it under his head. Once he was all comfortable and looked like he was not going to try and get up, I said, "Stay there, I will be right back." I hurried out of the room, glancing backward as I exited the room, I could see him just lying there motionless, eyes wide open, looking at the ceiling. He looked stiff as a board, but he stayed in a reclining position. I made a quick trip all around the house turning out lights, looking at things to make sure that they were in a safe location, closing doors, and just looking at the terrible mess the house was in. The last thing I did was step out on the back porch and check the stuff he had tried to burn. As I walked out on the porch I could see just the first rays of bright sunshine as old sol peaked his head up bringing on the new day. The pile of stuff was a soggy messy, nothing burning or even smoldering. I looked at all the stuff wondering why he thought he had to burn it. I turned and went back in, closing and locking the door behind me. I moved on toward the office and the feeling of exhaustion hitting me to the bone. I looked at Dad. He was snoring loudly. I walked over and looked down right on him. I loved the guy, no doubt about it, but there were a lot of things that I had to know before I could help him. I was not at all sure that I could help, but I had to try. I walked over and flopped on the other couch and pulled the comforter over me. I don't think I had time to have a single thought pass through my head before I was asleep. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. The post was sent as a uuencoded attachment and has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software. ------- ASSM Moderation System Notice-------- This post has been reformatted by the ASSM Moderation Team due to inadequate formatting. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+