Disclaimer: The following is fiction. The story’s content does not represent the writer’s beliefs, opinions, or attitudes. This story is intended for adult entertainment only. The characters and events depicted in this work are fictional. The author does not condone or promote unlawful activity as the story describes. By continuing to read this work, you acknowledge that you are an adult who wishes to read works of fantasy and fiction for the purpose only of fantasy. All the characters in this story are adults. They may play different ages for the fictional character they are depicting, but they remain at all times adults.
Feature Writer: Shona
Feature Title: SHONA WOMAN 1
Published: 05.11.2024
Story Codes: Incest, Abuse, Rape, Young Ones.
Synopsis: A young girl gets her birthday present from her Dad
Shona: Woman 1
My sister, Amelia, had told me what would happen. It had happened to her two years before. She said that he would slowly undress me, lay me naked on the bed, and take off his clothes. He would go down between my legs and would lick around my clit and cunt so that they were moist (except she used the words clitoris and vagina, which were the words she had been taught).
He would get up again and put some lubrication on his cock (penis to her) and my cunt and then lay above me. He would gently push his cock into my cunt, reassuring me and making sure it didn’t hurt, and when I was ready, he would penetrate my hymen and make love to me until his sperm gushed into my vagina.
When my birthday dawned it began as all birthdays did — with presents. I got a few cheap and meagre toys and some books and, finally, the new clothes. Dennis and Glenys, the brother and sister who made the clothes had measured me up a few weeks before and now I saw the product of their art — a black strapless cocktail dress tight around the chest and very short, a tight red mini skirt with a white transparent blouse and an update, for fun, of a school uniform that would certainly not be allowed in any school in the country (or any country come to that).
After breakfast, we dressed for church. Amelia was wearing blue that morning, a lovely dress that had been a present at Christmas a month before. I had a nice pink dress that was one of Amelia’s hand-me-downs. Dad was wearing his best Sunday church suit. And my mother? She died when I was three from a rare form of cancer so there were just the three of us.
And after church, and Dad’s usual chat with the vicar about righteousness and how to develop the work of the church in the community, we went home to prepare for the party. Amelia and I always had parties. Our friends from school would come and a few of the parents came to help out.
“That poor man with his full-time teaching job who has to bring up those two lovely girls and isn’t he doing a good job of it, such a shame he refuses to re-marry.”
My Dad was a good-looking man, and even we girls knew that he had lots of admirers. He taught history at a private school, and we lived in a cottage tucked away amidst woodland at the edge of the school grounds. Before he had started teaching, he had served as an officer in the army. He was an admired pillar of the community.
Our birthday parties were thought to be amongst the best. Dad had caterers prepare the food, and there was always a birthday cake in the shape of something – that year, it was a rose with petals made of different types of sweets. And there was entertainment.
When we were younger, there were clowns now, there might be a juggler, and there was a fire eater — This year, there was a magician — there were games, too, and so much laughter and music and enjoyment. Yes, those parties were certainly worth going to, and our friends would talk about them for a week or more afterwards. Everyone agreed that a Wills birthday party was the best.
What can I say? There were also presents and what girl doesn’t like her friends turning up with presents. They would be opened while we ate and carefully stacked on display on a table in the hallway. As I grew up I decided that Dad displayed them like that to get some competition going. Nobody liked to be seen to have brought a duff present. Whilst the kids didn’t notice their parents certainly did.
The party was over and everyone gone there was a bit of a hiatus. The caterers tidied things away and did the washing up in the kitchen until they left whilst I transferred my presents to my room. Amelia would get changed into her going out to play clothes because she would go for a sleepover at a friend’s house. I stayed at home.
I waved her goodbye from the front door and felt my Dad’s hand on my shoulder. As he pushed the door closed, he pulled me back so that I stumbled and almost fell but managed to just keep my balance. Then he took my hand and pulled me to the stairs, up the stairs, along the landing, into my bedroom and rip, he started to tear my clothes from me.
“Time for your best present, slut,” he growled at me as he tore away the last of my dress, “Just you and me.”
Then he picked me up and threw me across the room and onto my bed. He was kneeling on the bed by the time I had recovered my wits, his cock released from his trousers and poking out from between the zip, large and erect, the foreskin pulled back and pre-cum already glistening on the cockhead. He reached down and tore off my knickers leaning forward then to stuff them in my mouth. He was still dressed in his Sunday best minus the jacket and tie.
He pulled my legs apart and spat on my cunt, the spit he then pushed into my cunt with his finger – which he continued to push in until it reached as far as it could go. I could feel the pressure inside me as he pressed against something.
He pulled me up onto his knees and spat in my face.
“Are you ready slut?”
He lifted and pulled me down onto his cock, his cock that was so much bigger than the finger he had been pushing into me the last six months. It filled me, stretched me, I thought I was going to tear in two and then …
The Pain.
Only the knickers stuffed into my mouth prevented me from screaming the house down. Sharp at first, sharp and dreadful, it would be a while before it turned into a dull ache felt through the sharpness. I couldn’t feel blood, but I would see blood on his cock when he was done with me and blood on his trousers.
He pushed and pulled, so it seemed to me before he pushed me down underneath him on the bed and thrust in and out, over and over. I thought I was going to die with the pain and all I heard was the animal grunting that came from his throat. Then there was warmth, wet warmth inside me, filling me. His cum, the cum that I had first seen spewing from his cock years before, that I had tasted and drunk again and again, now inside me. He had done. He collapsed onto me, breathing heavily, crushing me beneath him.
He moved, eventually, just as I thought that he would lay there until I suffocated beneath him he got to his knees, his cock covered in cum and blood.
He looked down at me as I lay there wide-eyed with shock. How many times had he told me to clean him up? I would have done it if he had told me to, as disgusting as it looked with the blood. I knew to deny him anything would at the very least earn me a stinging slap across my face.
Instead, he pulled the knickers from my mouth and wiped himself with those. He tucked himself in, threw the dirtied knickers in my face and zipped himself up.
“You are lucky, no second party tonight.”
For the last few years there had been another party in the evening of my birthday after Amelia had gone to a sleepover, Dennis and Glenys and three or four other friends, usually men, would come for drinks and for me to entertain them with whatever new skills I had learned during the year before.
“I thought you wouldn’t be able to entertain well enough after your first time. Next weekend Amelia can go on another sleepover.”
“Happy eighth birthday.”
“Feel Good slut?”
“Whore.”
“Woman.”
He walked out of my bedroom. I lay there unable to move for a long time. Silent. Motionless. Then the tears came and the sobs and the painful trembling. I went to the bathroom and cleaned between my legs. Not being clean earned a spanking.
I turned off the light and crawled into bed. It was another school day tomorrow and at the very least Dad would expect a blowjob at breakfast.
One word played in my mind as I finally fell asleep.
Woman.
THE END OF CHAPTER ONE