I have to warn you right from the start this isn't a pretty story. I'm only writing this on paper because the judge says I have to. Well, not the judge, but you. But since the judge said I have to see you, well....
My name is John, and I'm the youngest of five kids. All girls, except me, of course, and there's only about a year that separates our ages. We were raised on a farm about a hundred miles from the city—it might as well have been a million miles—my dad never took us there. He believed only evil things happened in the city and it was his duty to protect us from them. That's pretty funny considering....
One of the reasons you said I had to write this is because I have an 'unhealthy attitude concerning sex'—that I'm 'sexually abnormal' and 'gender confused'—well who wouldn't be the way I was raised.
I'm very close to my youngest sister, Jenny. She is a year older than me, and we shared a bedroom all the way up to the time I became the 'family pet', as my older sisters described me. We did everything together. I always admired and respected her; she was smart and funny and taught me a lot of things. It was her who tried to open my eyes to the fact that something was wrong with the way we were living.
Anyway, I always thought we lived normal lives. I thought it was normal for a dad to spank his kids in front of the whole family; I thought it was normal for him to take his daughters into his bedroom for 'special counseling'; I thought it was normal for him to do what he did to me. He told me so....
Our mother died a long time ago. Shortly after her death, we were all taken out of public school and the county allowed dad to give us 'home schooling'. They encouraged it—despite all the large family farms in the area, the county didn't have much tax revenue and five less kids in the school system saved them money.
We all worked hard to make the farm profitable. Each one of us had specific chores to do, and if we were lazy or failed to do them properly, there was the haunting threat of having to experience 'daddy's leather belt' across our backsides as punishment.
I guess I began to notice subtle changes in our lifestyle after my oldest sister, Judy, was taken into daddy's bedroom for 'special counseling'. Up to that point, we all had called him 'Pa', then the next day Judy started calling him 'Daddy'; I know, that's not a big deal, but it seemed significant in my mind. The following year on Jackie's birthday, she went to pa's room and the next day she called him daddy, too.
After my sister, Jenny, had her 'special counseling', and she started calling him daddy, I began to wonder what would happen to me the following year; would I get 'special counseling' from him in his bedroom, too?
The other thing I had noticed which was far more obvious than the name-thing, was from the moment Judy started calling him 'daddy', she spent every night with him in his bedroom. I had no idea why, or what they were doing, but it was true. And so, each year thereafter, when one of the girls had the counseling, daddy would have one more choice as to who would spend the night with him.
The years went by. First it was Judy; then Jackie; then Jane, and then finally my beloved Jenny. When I was the last one calling him 'pa', I felt left out of a private and secret club. Jenny changed—we weren't as close as we were before. As a matter-of-fact, whenever I was around, none the girls would say much. They whispered and giggled between themselves--I felt lonely.
The year went by quickly. I worked hard in the fields driving a tractor and bringing the crops in. The girls all had their own responsibilities: Judy and Jackie, the two oldest worked in the house cleaning and cooking; Jane and Jenny tended to the chickens, goats, pigs and the vegetable garden. After a long day on the tractor, pa and I always came home to a clean house and a terrific home-cooked lunch and supper.
My birthday was fast approaching and I was going to be that 'certain age', but because I was a boy, I didn't know if pa was going to give me any 'special counseling', and I was extremely curious as to what took place behind his closed bedroom door.
Jackie had baked a delicious birthday cake for me. They all sang 'Happy Birthday', and when Pa looked at me and said, "Boy, it's time you had some special counseling—come with me," I followed him and I heard the girls giggling and snickering as he closed his bedroom door behind us.
We sat on the edge of his bed. "Son," he began, "...because you're a boy and you're tougher than the girls, I'm going to be especially hard on you if you disobey me or disappoint me, in any way...do you understand?"
I didn't understand, but I told him I did.
"Good...stand up and take off your clothes," he said.
"Yes, pa," I said, and did what he asked.
I stood naked before him. My heart pounded as he reached out and stroked my chest and legs.
"From now on, I want you to call me 'Daddy'—do you understand?"
"Y-yes, d-daddy," I stammered.
"Spread your legs wider apart," he ordered.
"Y-yes, daddy," I said, as I opened my legs for him.
One of his strong hands gently caressed my penis and ball sac. With his other hand, he began pinching and rolling my nipples between his thumb and forefinger. He squeezed my nipples hard enough for me to cry out.
"Son, tonight we are going to learn if you're a man—or a sissy-boy," he said softly.
"You have a beautiful body..." he said, "...very soft—more like a girl than a man."
I blushed at his words. I wanted him to think of me as a man.
I became acutely aware of his hands. The kneading and stroking caused my penis to become stiff. I felt ashamed to be standing before him with a hard-on. He took my small cock in his hand and stroked it. My breathing became irregular.
"Turn around," he commanded, "...spread your legs further apart."
"Y-yes, daddy," I said, and obeyed him.
When I had my back to him he pulled me closer. He reached around me and began stroking my penis again. Then I felt his hand massage my bottom-cheeks. Soon, his fingers parted my cheeks and I felt a digit rub my anus. My body twitched when he pressed his finger against my anus.
He pulled his finger away then quickly returned it to my tiny hole—it was wet. I guessed he coated his finger with his saliva. This time he slowly, but insistently pushed it into my hole. When he had an inch of it inside me he moved it around and I felt it against the tender flesh of my asshole.
My penis twitched in his hand and I groaned.
"Uhh-huh," he said.
Further-and-further his finger pushed into me until finally I felt the flat of his hand on my bottom-cheeks. There was some pain, but mostly I felt full—I felt like I had to go to the bathroom.
"Relax your hole," he said and he pinched my bottom-cheeks until my sphincter opened to his invading finger.
He slowly withdrew his finger to the tip then pushed it into me again. His stroking hand on my cock drove me wild with lust. My hips began to push back against his finger in time with the stroking of his hand.
He sawed his finger in-and-out of my rectum as his hand moved faster-and-faster on my throbbing cock. I was swooning with pleasure. My balls were churning. I had beaten-off hundreds of times over the years and I knew I was about to shoot my load. Suddenly, his finger pushed hard into my asshole and bumped my prostate and I screamed-out. My hips bucked uncontrollably as the cum exploded from my balls and out of my pulsating cockhead into daddy's waiting hand. He kept milking my cock until my balls were drained.
When he pulled his finger out of me I felt both thrilled and ashamed.
"Clean my hand with your lips and tongue," he said, as he presented his cum-soaked hand to my face. I obeyed his command.
He stood and began removing his clothes and said, "I think we now know what kind of boy you are...lie down on the bed."
