MY DAUGHTER WENDY – part 6 by bager
Martha arrived and had been brought into the living room. She sat down in an easy chair whilst I sat on the settee and Wendy sat beside me. Martha smiled at us, “Now John from your call I think this is important.” She said.
I nodded, “I’m not sure what to say . . . but last night I found Wendy was masturbating me . . .” I started to explain but Wendy broke in with
“I did it, I did it. ‘Cause I did not want daddy to make me leave him. I was only doing what mummy told me to do!” At Martha’s look she explained, “Mummy told me that men liked girls who would rub their tummy sticks.”
“I see Wendy . . . so you did that to please your daddy, just like you’ve been taught. How did your mummy teach you?” She asked gently while taking notes.
Wendy shrugged, “She had something . . . I think it was a model of a tummy stick . . . I mean penis.” Wendy looked at me and blushed.
“I found out that Wendy knows a little about sexual matters but not enough, so I’ve been giving her some lessons about sex.” At Martha’s look I added, “Only the names of things and how woman’s reproduction works, that was after she’d tasted my sperm from her hand last night . . . she was scared that she’d be having babies.” I explained the last without smiling, I was too worried that Martha would disapprove and remove Wendy from me.
“And what did you find out last night, Wendy?” Martha asked.
Wendy seemed to shrink into herself and then she grabbed hold of my arm, “That . . . that medicine . . . mummy made me take . . . was the same . . . same taste . . . as my . . . daddy’s squirm . . . sperm!” She amended quickly but she was gulping back tears as she spoke.
“How did you manage to taste your daddy’s sperm?” Martha asked her gently.
Wendy glanced at me before speaking, I nodded encouragingly, she swallowed before speaking, “I had some of it on my hand and I sucked it to clean it off . . . that is when I . . . I” She started to sob again.
“She ran from my bedroom into the bathroom, I found her being sick into the toilet.” I told Martha quietly.
Martha got up and sat beside Wendy, holding her as well. “It wasn’t the taste that upset you, was it.” She said gently but Wendy did not answer. Martha gently pulled Wendy onto her lap and held her close. “I know what it’s like to taste a father’s seed.”
Wendy pulled away from her to look at me, I could not read the expression on her face, but I shook my head, “Not me she didn’t!” I said.
Martha laughed, “Oh no my dear, I meant my father.”
Wendy looked at her this time, “Your father made you . . .”
But Martha shook her head, “No, I snuck into his bed one morning and took him in my mouth, it was a surprise for both of us . . . me because of all the seed I had to swallow and him, well he thought it was my mother, until he started to choke me.”
I could see the look on Wendy’s face, almost calculating, “Err, Martha I think you should stop there . . . you’re giving Wendy too much to think about.” I said.
“Nonsense John, I’m trying to tell Wendy that, whatever it was that her mother and step-father were doing to her isn’t something to be ashamed of, that I can understand and won’t be angry with anything she says.” Martha said to me in her ‘let me explain to a child’ tone.
Wendy gave a small smile at that but then her face clouded over again, “Daddy I am sorry but . . . do you mind if . . . I do love you but . . .” She faltered over what she was trying to say.
“Wendy I’m your father, I’ve seen you naked on several occasions and the last time was this morning, but you’re saying that you don’t want to embarrass me and would like me to stay away while you talk to Martha? Is that what you’re trying to say?” I asked her gently.
She blushed but nodded her head, “please daddy?” She said quietly.
I looked at Martha who nodded her head, “Why don’t you go for a walk, it’s a sunny day and it might help your color.” She said to me. I nodded and kissed Wendy, before getting up and leaving the two together.
++++ The following is taken from the transcript of Martha Atchison, current assignment – John and Wendy Archer! Investigate and assess for integration into Funiculaireville population – current cover British Social Services (exchange agent).
“Alright Wendy, now don’t worry about the microphone, it’s just to allow me to get your words down correctly later. Just to make this official this is Martha Atchison, talking to Wendy Archer, the time is 09:22 on Tuesday.”(Full date withheld) “Now Wendy you were going to tell me about your mother . . .”
“Are you sure daddy’s gone?”
“I’m sure Wendy, he shut the front door and I saw him cross the road, now don’t worry there’s only the two of us here.”
“Well, I’m not sure where to start? I mean mummy always told me that daddy threw us out and she had to move in with . . . with him.”
“You mean your step-father?” – (note there is evidence of an affair between Diana Archer and Michael Thomas from before her wedding to John Archer).
“Yes . . . him. Anyway, he has always had his eyes on me, as if I was worth eating or something and he always had to touch me. Whenever I was near him he had to hold me, touch me . . . I hated him.”
“Where did he touch you? On the arms, legs, face? I’m sorry Wendy I have to know exactly.”
“Well, he would touch my arms to pull me closer to him, and then he’d rub my legs. I had to stand still and let him do that, when I tried to pull away from him mummy smacked me and tell me I was an ungrateful bitch. Then she would make me stand in front of him and let him touch me. He would move his hands all over my body, it made my skin crawl when he touched it.”
“I’m sorry Wendy but where did he touch you, I have to know exactly.”
“ . . .On my botty and around the front . . . you know the cunny. He used to push his finger into my botty as well.”
“Did anything else happen while he was doing that.”
“No, he just had that stupid look on his face, as if he’d done something clever.”
“What else happened to you, John said something about your step-father checking you?”
“I had to wipe my botty clean every time I used the toilet, and then he would check that I had, and if it wasn’t clean enough he’d push his finger into my mouth.”
“Why did you let him do that?”
“I had to, before mummy used to put ropes on my wrists and then tie me to the bed. She would tie my legs as well so I could not kick them . . . once I managed to kick him but mummy held my legs while he smacked me. After some time I learnt not to move, but he still hurt me . . . mummy then started to use something to make me relax so that he could check deeper.”
“Did you like letting him do that to you?”
“No! He wasn’t nice he kept on saying things like ‘pity she doesn’t bleed yet’ and ‘in a year’s time she’ll be ready for something bigger’ and ‘she’ll be a perfect little cunt’ I don’t understand what he meant but he’d start laughing.” (Sounds of Wendy crying)
“That’s alright Wendy, now when I went to your step-father’s house I noticed that your clothes were in your mother’s and your step-father’s bedroom, why was this?”
“Well mummy told me that since they brought the clothes it was only right that they made sure the clothes were clean, if the clothes were clean then I had to be clean, and the only way they could make sure was if I put the clothes on after washing. And since he’d be checking then it was only proper that I dressed in their room while they watched and made sure I didn’t make them dirty.”
“I see, but what happened when you went to bed?”
“I would have to undress and then wash myself before putting on my nightdress . . . I was never allowed to wear pajamas.”
“And this was also while they were watching?”
“Of course, they had to make sure I was nice and clean!”
“And during the night?”
“Well mummy would make sure I was tied loosely enough to sleep, but he would have to check that I wasn’t wetting the bed, I used to but they kept me sleeping in the bed until I learnt not to.”
“How could they keep you in a wet bed?”
“Oh mummy would hold me down while he tied me onto the bed, but I couldn’t wear my night dress then or else I’d get it even wetter.”
“So your mother would remove the nightdress.”
“No, he had to, so I could learn that ‘he was the most important person in my life’ and I had to obey him.” +++ note the last was recited as if learnt by heart +++
“Did you like him doing that?”
“No I didn’t, it was the way his eyes would look at me, he told mummy that I was going to be a lovely little cunt – I didn’t know what that means but I don’t think it’s a nice thing!”
“I don’t think so either, did your mummy smack you often?”
“She did it every night, sometimes with her hand . . . but lately she’d been using a stick. And then he’d put his tummy stick into my botty . . . and hurt me, but mummy told me not to be a cry baby.”
“Why did she tell you that?”
“He would show me how mummy let him do it, she was smiling as he pushed his tummy stick into her cunny and botty.”
“Did you try to look away?”
“I was told not to, mummy would have smacked my on my cunny and that hurts”
“Has she smacked you there before?”
“Only once when I tried to scratch him when he was touching me, I don’t want her to do that again!”
“I’ll make sure she won’t – How do you feel about your real daddy, I understand that your mummy said he was dead?”
“She told me that daddy had thrown us out, he didn’t want us to stay with him anymore. Then she said that daddy wanted to do nasty stuff to me and she stopped him, and that was why he threw us out . . . she told me it was his fault . . . then when I was eight she said that daddy was dead and was in hell where he would stay . . . but then she said he might come back from hell and get me if I didn’t do what she told me.”
“She told you that your daddy was dead, but would punish you if you disobeyed her?”
“Or didn’t do what HE told me to do!”
“And that’s when it got worse?”
“Yes . . . mummy would smack me and then HE would start on me . . . HE would . . . would . . .” +++ note Wendy Archer is crying at this stage, it was decided by Miss Atchison to stop at that point + + + interview ended.
I opened the door to find Wendy crying on Martha’s lap. She looked at me and ran to me wrapping her arms around my waist. “Oh daddy . . . daddy . . . I didn’t believe her honest I didn’t, you wouldn’t do anything to me . . . I’d do anything to stay with you . . . anything!”
Martha shook her head, “It’s a disturbing start . . . I think there’s more to come, but she’s going to need expert attention . . . it’s not something we’ve got on this side of the world. If I can get permission would you mind traveling . . . somewhere?”
I looked at Martha, weighing up her words and the ones she said yesterday “Would that possibly be the same person you spoke about?” She nodded. “And would this have anything to do with Janet Jones suggestions?”
“No, I understand that you have been offered a chance to spend some time with Janet and Amanda, and a normal family life may help Wendy get over her past few years.” I admit my eyebrows were raised when she mentioned a normal family life, but I let it pass.
“You realize that if I do go to . . . that place, I’ll be out of the jurisdiction of the British Social Services.” I asked her
“I’m sure that we can get Family Services to take over the care of this case, and ensure that nothing . . . inappropriate happens to Wendy while she’s away.” Martha said.
“But I’d have to get visas and passports, which would take time, I don’t think I’d be able . . .” But I stopped when Martha smiled.
“Oh I think that you’ll find there are ways and means. I’ll come back this afternoon, but I think that we need to have a picture of you, young lady.” Martha reached into her bag, produced a Polaroid camera, and focused on Wendy’s face. “No, don’t smile; you’re supposed to look stupid on one of these!” She said which made Wendy laugh. “Now you’ve ruined that one! I’ll have to let your father have this one.” She was smiling as she said that so Wendy did not think she was moaning at her. “Now think of going to school and taking math.” Wendy made a face, which Martha clicked the camera at, “Perfect!” she added.
“You don’t like math.” I asked Wendy.
“Well, its okay . . . but I prefer P.E. (Physical Education – Gymnastics)” Wendy said and went into a back arch before either of us could stop her. When she righted herself we both clapped our hands, she blushed and curtseyed to us. “Thank you.” She said
“Well, you’re certainly supple enough, can you bend yourself double?” Martha asked her.
“Oh that’s easy!” Wendy said and placed her legs on the ground and then bent backwards and placed her hands behind her so that they were almost next to her legs.
“Hold it!” Martha said and then surprised both of us by taking out some padded cuffs and attached Wendy’s left wrist and ankle together and then did the same with Wendy’s right wrist and ankle.
“No, please let me go, I though you were different from mummy! Don’t hurt me please!” Wendy started to cry out, but I noticed that she did not raise her voice too loud.
“Don’t be so daft young lady . . . Now let’s get your clothes off shall we?” Martha said while looking at me.
I looked at her asking ‘what the hell are you playing at?’ with my eyes she smiled at me and gestured to the doorway, I followed her out leaving my daughter bent over backwards.
“What are you doing?” I asked Martha, putting in words what I had been thinking.
“All her life she been tied down and hurt. She equates bondage with only pain! I think she needs to learn the pleasure that can be given while tied up. And you are the only person she’ll trust to give her that!”
Martha took me to the kitchen and found out some scissors. She clipped then together a couple of times before nodding. “Yes, these should do!” She said triumphantly and smiled at me, “Shall we return to your victim?” She asked.
“MY VICTIM? But this is your idea.” I said
“Yes, so the Social Services are giving you their approval to give your daughter pleasure where she’s only found pain . . . You know you can do it. Trust me that’s what she needs.” Martha said as she directed me back to the living room where my daughter was struggling in her bondage.
“Daddy what are you going to do?” She asked me.
“Be quiet child, your father is going to deal with you as you should be dealt with!” Martha said but softly so as not to scare Wendy.
I looked at the window and thought for a few minutes, I could picture the Wilson’s having a field day if they peered past the net-curtain that was in place there, it was possible for them to do that . . . so the living room was out of the question. No, it would have to be elsewhere.
“Wendy if you were to be attacked where would you prefer down here or somewhere upstairs?” I asked her, at first she looked shocked at my question – well I’m not surprised, I was shocked by asking it in the first place – and then she realized that this was something out of her usual punishment.
“Could you take me upstairs to your bedroom, please Daddy John.” She said softly – I really had to find out what she and Tania had talked about,
So I picked up my bound daughter and held her in my arms, she managed to rest her head on my shoulder as I carried her up the stairs and into my bedroom, Martha entered first and closed the curtains, after looking out of the window first, at my questioning look she smiled at me.
“Just so that they think it you and me in here!” She winked.
I gently tickled Wendy as I landed her on my bed making her giggle as she re-assumed her position. “I think you’d better prepare yourself for the worst day of your life.” I sternly said to my daughter.
“Oh John you do not mean you are going to . . .” Martha said, her voice sounding frightened.
“She deserves it! She admitted that my wife has abused her backside, it’s only fair that I should work on her front!” I said sounding angry.
Wendy started to shake now, she was trying to picture what I was going to do to her, but she was soon to find out.
Parent Post: MY DAUGHTER WENDY – part 1 by bager
- MY DAUGHTER WENDY - part 2 by bager
- MY DAUGHTER WENDY - part 3 by bager
- MY DAUGHTER WENDY - part 4 by bager
- MY DAUGHTER WENDY - part 5 by bager
- MY DAUGHTER WENDY - part 6 by bager
- MY DAUGHTER WENDY - part 7 by bager
- MY DAUGHTER WENDY - part 8 by bager
- MY DAUGHTER WENDY - part 9 by bager
- MY DAUGHTER WENDY - part 10 by bager
- MY DAUGHTER WENDY - part 11 by bager
- MY DAUGHTER WENDY - part 12 by bager
- MY DAUGHTER WENDY - part 13 by bager
- MY DAUGHTER WENDY - part 14 by bager
- MY DAUGHTER WENDY - part 15 by bager
- MY DAUGHTER WENDY - part 16 by bager
- MY DAUGHTER WENDY - part 17 by bager
- MY DAUGHTER WENDY - part 18 by bager
- MY DAUGHTER WENDY - part 19 by bager
- MY DAUGHTER WENDY - part 20 by bager
- MY DAUGHTER WENDY - part 21 by bager
- MY DAUGHTER WENDY - part 22 by bager
- MY DAUGHTER WENDY - part 23 by bager
- MY DAUGHTER WENDY - part 24 by bager
- MY DAUGHTER WENDY - part 25 by bager
- MY DAUGHTER WENDY - part 26 by bager
- MY DAUGHTER WENDY - part 27 by bager
- MY DAUGHTER WENDY - part 28 by bager