"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...
