Born Beautiful, Rachel's Story #13

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Rachel pays for Hugo's rage against social changes.
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Part 13 of the 18 part series

Updated 10/25/2022
Created 10/25/2012
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Chapter 13

First Olga and now Rachel pays for Hugo's rage against social changes

With her mother being so emotionally, physically, and sexually abused, what Rachel saw happening in the barn frightened her and sickened her to her stomach. She wanted to scream out to help her mother and run inside the barn to save her. Only, she was helpless to do anything but watch their senseless and shameless evil abuse of her mother. As if her father and brother had captured a Jewish woman, someone who had embraced the revolutionary aspects of Karl Marx's philosophy and personally defied and disrespected their King as well as them and their country, they acted in the way of Communist soldiers, a precursor to Nazi war criminals more than eighty years off in the future. Other than to hope that they didn't kill her mother and take her next, there was nothing that she could do.

Inevitably knowing that she'd be next, unless she married and left his house, she needed to escape this incestuous madman and this perverse farmhouse. With the writing already on the wall, she had already seen signs of how it starts with an inappropriate word here and an inappropriate touch, grope, and grab there. Never given any privacy, treating her as if he owned her, her father was determined to see his virginal daughter naked whenever she bathe and while he masturbated before her. No doubt, needing to see her without her clothes to imagine her naked, he'd whisper her name in Olga's ear, while having sex with his wife. While insisting that she strip naked and bathe in his presence, her father took his usual seat in the kitchen to smoke his pipe and drink his beer while watching his daughter wash herself.

"Papa, get out. I'm taking a bath."

"I know. That's why I'm here," he said. "Go ahead," he said removing his pipe from his mouth to encourage her to undress with a wave of his hand. "Take off your clothes. I want to see. I want to watch."

"No, Papa. Please. Don't. I'm embarrassed. Give me some privacy please."

"Take them off now. Take off your clothes or I'll take them off for you," he said shouting before slapping her across her face in the way he did with her mother.

Obediently but reluctantly, Rachel obeyed her father and slowly stripped off her clothes to the intense, incestuous leer of her father. Taking the lesser of the two evils, not wanting a beating and a whipping in the way that he beat and whipped her mother, she didn't want to be dragged out to the barn to be raped by her brother,

"I'm embarrassed, Papa," she said covering her nakedness with her hand and forearm and turning away from his stare.

"Turn around and face me. Let me see. I want to see my daughter," he said standing to approach her. "Take your arm and hand away. I want to see," he said reaching out his big, calloused hand to pull her arm away before reaching to feel the full weight of her big breast.

"Papa no. Please don't. Stop," she said trying to move away from him but she was standing in the tub of water and there was no place for her to go.

"You're built like your mother. This is how her breasts used to feel when they were firm and proud before they drooped soft from suckling you and your brother and sagged under the weight of them with age," he said.

Closing his eyes and putting his head back as if imagining having sex with Olga so long ago or with his daughter now, he reached his other hand around her to cup her firm, round ass cheek. Then, with her recoiling from his touch, he put a forceful hand between her legs and cupped her bushy, blonde pussy.

"Papa! No!"

"Don't worry. I just want to feel you. I just want to touch my daughter," he said with a look of insanity on his face. "I'm not going to penetrate you with my finger. You're worth more to me as a virgin than as my sexy slut."

He kept his hand there and when he withdrew it, he smelled his hand and his fingers. Not daring to violate her, as if hasn't already, he didn't dare stick a finger inside of her pussy, no doubt, even though he wanted to do that. Instead, he seemed content to slowly slide his palm across her nipples from one to the other. Mortified, humiliated, and embarrassed, especially when her nipples responded to his touch by erecting and hardening, not wanting to see what he was doing to her, she looked down and away. As soon as her nipples erected, he took them between his fingers and pulled them out more, first one and then the other. Pulling them, turning them, and twisting them, he appeared sexually enamored with his daughter's nipples.

"Papa. No. Stop. Please don't touch me like that," she said pulling away from his touch.

"Papa likes feeling his daughter," he said. "Don't you like when Papa touches you Rachel?" Removing his hand from her, he looked at her waiting for her to answer.

"Yes, Papa, but not like that," she said begging him to stop with pleading eyes.

He wrapped an arm around her naked waist and pulling her to him, he leaned down and took her nipple in his mouth, first one and then the other, while fingering the one he wasn't sucking.

"I love your big tits Rachel," he said giving you a big toothless smile.

"You must go now so that I may have my bath in privacy. Please leave Papa," she said covering her nakedness again with her forearm and hand while pushing him away with her other hand.

Seemingly satisfied with all that he's done and appearing sexually excited with all that he was about to do, he unbuttoned his trousers, pulled out his cock, and sat back down in his chair. To the obvious humiliation of his daughter, he stroked himself while watching Rachel standing before him naked.

"Go ahead and wash yourself while I watch and stroke my prick," he said.

"Okay Papa," said Rachel in a quiet, defeated voice.

"You have a beautiful body, Rachel, as beautiful a body as your mother once had. You excited Papa, Rachel," he said. "See?" He held up his cock as if offering it to his daughter. "Look at me. Look at Papa, Rachel," he ordered and raised his voice when she looked away. "Do you see what you did to Papa? You made Papa very hard and big. See?"

Rachel looked at her father's holding and stroking his cock. An 18-year-old, virginal daughter, forced to strip herself naked and made to turn to face her father as he touched her, felt her, and fondled her, while ordered to watch him masturbate over her bathing her nude body before his eyes is an abomination. Getting more than just an eyeful too, she knows her brother hides outside and peeks through the dirty kitchen window while watching her bathe. Just as her father masturbates over her naked body, she knows her brother does too.

"Papa, Karl is watching me," said Rachel covering her nakedness again with her hand and forearm from the horny leer of her brother.

"Get away from the window, Karl," yelled Hugo. "How dare you peep on your sister."

Karl ducked down but didn't leave and, when his father was busy ogling his daughter, he peeped through the kitchen window again to ogle his sister. Like father like son, Karl masturbated to the forced striptease show of his sister. Violently forced to obey, the first time Rachel resisted her father, he slapped her before stripping her naked, while touching her, feeling her, and caressing her everywhere. Now, so that he doesn't grope her naked body, she willingly, albeit reluctantly undresses.

Never has she been as embarrassed as she felt now. Never has she felt so used and abused as when her father forces her to strip herself naked in front of him. She could only imagine how battered her mother must feel being beaten, horsewhipped, and then forced to sexually service her son. Now, just as her mother taught her to do when her husband forces her to bathe in front of her son and sexually service her son, when Rachel bathes in front of her father, she takes her mind somewhere else.

Her special place used to be deep in the grove of trees on her father's land. Now her special place to go is to America, a land of freedom, where all the streets are paved in gold and where everyone is happy to be alive. America, a rich land of tall buildings, is a land where even the maids have maids. That's where she wants to go and that's where she needs to be. Finally free from her father and brother, maybe she'll marry a wealthy American.

She knew that if she stayed here that it was only a matter of time before they took her to the barn too to beat her, strip her, and have sex with her. Free with their full body hugs on their feigned pretense of being affectionate with her, whenever she passed by them, her father and brother were already groping her and copping cheap feels of her shapely body through her clothes. Knowing they'd try and feel her, she always wore extra clothing to deny them the feel of her body but they'd still dry hump her against the kitchen sink while trying to lift her skirt to get beneath her petticoat. After denying them a feel of her drawers, instead they'd reach their hands up to cup and caress her ample breasts and finger her nipples through her dress, bodice, and chemise. With two men inappropriately touching her, always trying to preserve her modesty and dignity, she knew that, eventually, it was a losing battle and they'd have their wicked way with her one day.

Then, never having felt a cock before, when they pulled her hand to them and forced her to feel their stiff bulges through their pants, sickened to her stomach, she wanted to die. Moreover, she wanted them to die. She felt so violated that she wanted to bash them over their heads with the iron skillet that she always carried as her personal weapon when using it to make them their damn waffles and sausages. Only she knew, whatever she did to them, they'd do worse to her mother. If she stayed there much longer, it wouldn't be long before she'd be trading places with her mother, taking their beatings, enduring their whippings, and sucking their cocks. Only if she fled, a dire circumstance she had to face, her mother would pay the ultimate price for her leaving.

No longer screaming for them to stop, obviously for fear of awakening her daughter, Olga endured the whippings and suffered in comatose silence. Lost in a safer place, as if there was an internal switch that turned off her feelings, their beatings and sexual depravity had also turned off her will to live. As if her eyes were that of a doll, instead of a human, her blue eyes once full of life, were now dim, fixed, and stared off in the distance. No doubt a way for her to save her sanity, her mind was somewhere else.

Perhaps she thought of better times. Perhaps she thought of when Rachel was just a baby and Karl was a toddler. Rachel loved holding her mother's hand and Karl loved hanging on to his mother's skirt while adoringly looking up at her. Now with her son's cock in his mother's mouth, he perversely looks down at her. A twisted incestuous reality was when Olga confessed to her daughter that she enjoyed making love to her son. Would that happen to her one day? Would she enjoy making love to her brother? She couldn't bear the reality of her brother impregnating her with their child.

With her long, blonde, lush hair and her tall, shapely body, her mother was so beautiful, before the abuse, as beautiful as Rachel is now with her long, blonde, lush hair and tall, shapely body. Her father never happy, even back then, his eyes small and beady with his brow furrowed, as if a caged animal, he was always a dark, angry shadow lurking in the background and always ready to erupt his rage. His face mirrored the plight of his angry country and bitter countrymen. No doubt, just as his father did to him when he was a boy, her father did all that he could do to ruin his happy family.

Now, Olga barely 35-years-old, the beatings, the whippings, and the incestuous sexual abuse have made her mother an old and broken woman. Done screaming and done fighting, relenting her body and relinquishing her will, with her mind elsewhere, she's given herself over to them. She willingly and protectively traded her body and her spirit for assured the safety of her daughter. Unlike his dimwitted son, her father was no dullard. He knew he'd receive more for Rachel as a virgin than as a scorned woman.

The only time Olga showed any signs of life was when she whispered her joy for her daughter to travel to America and flee this horrible house. Accused of stealing their money anyway, better for her to steal it than for them to drink it and pee it away, Olga dug deep in their pant pockets and took it whenever they were drunk and sleeping. Nearly every day, her mother gave her a gold coin that she somehow stole from her husband's pant pocket or from her son to sew in the lining of her clothes for the occasion of her trip. Rachel sewed the coins in an old petticoat and hid it in the back of her closet. After sewing and hiding coins for more than a year, her undergarment was heavy with the hope and salvation for a new life for her in America.

It was bad enough when her father beat her mother, now to recently enlist her son in the abuse, especially the sexual abuse, was too much for mother to bear and too much for Rachel to dread. The only thing that saved them from going after her, from stripping her naked, from beating her, from raping her, and from whipping her was because she was a virgin. As a chaste woman she was worth so much more than a woman who wasn't a virgin. Only going so far by having her strip naked and feeling her, her father would kill his son, if he ever touched his daughter in that same sacred and forbidden way. A son deflowering his innocent sister was frowned upon, even by these two Satanic demons.

Saving the purity of his daughter for his future financial security and as his way to heighten his place in the community, Hugo knew he'd get plenty of land and farm animals in return for marrying his virginal daughter to some well to do family and to a man who appreciated his daughter's beauty. Just as Olga had given him, his daughter would, no doubt, give her future husband a big, strong son. As if buying a farm animal, he'd only have to take one look at Karl to know the stock of their family.

With his eye already on John Astor, a direct descendent of the very rich and powerful Astor family. Some of family had already gone ahead to America and to England on first class passage to explore their business options there, while increasing their vast fortunes here and abroad. Then, there was that charming and handsome, Christian Straub, who his daughter fancied. His family owned a huge farm the next town over. Embracing the Women's Rights Movement, Hugo hated Straub's father because he was too lenient with his women, allowing them to run and ruin his life, while he was out selling his crops at market and making money. He knew that if she married him, she'd give her mother modern ideas, ideas that would, no doubt, mean her doom and the end of her.

To be continued...

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