The Major Colonel's Baby - Chap. 01
The story of a daughter's love for her father and his for her.
Society said no, but their hearts, minds and bodies screamed yes.
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Thank you Tigersman for your prompt and focused editing
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Being a new mother, I find myself contemplating my life and all of the changes I've experienced over the last several years. I wanted to let people know how things really were between Daddy and me. I want to preface this first, by asking that you try not to judge me too harshly and to remember that I love him, and I always have.
There was never any force, coercion or pressure between us and I think in a way, our union was inevitable and when it finally happened, it was glorious and long overdue. We went through a difficult period, but I was relieved and happy when the rumors and mean-spirited gossip finally quieted down. More and more frequently, someone will approach me with encouraging words about the break up between Marshall and me. Politely expressing how fortunate I am to have Daddy to stand by, support me, and act as the primary male role model to my son. I often have to stifle my laughter, thinking, 'God, if they only knew.'
*****
My father is a well-known, highly ranked officer in the United States Army. There's been gossip off and on for years about us, and it would destroy his reputation and legacy if those rumors ever became public and were proven to have substance behind them.
We grew up in a stern and dictatorial household, my older brother Paul and me. Conversations with Daddy were primarily him giving orders and commands. We did as told, never daring to broach or question his wishes. After close to twenty years of marriage, Mommy and Daddy's union had gotten rocky, and they seemed to argue most of the time during the last year or so they were together. I can remember clearly Mommy screaming at him during an argument, "Damn it, Braxton, we're your family! We are not soldiers under your command."
During their disagreements, he would look at her with a patronizing expression on his face, turn his back to her, and return to whatever he had been doing. That is unless he wanted to have sex with her. Mommy was and is a gorgeous woman, and no matter how he might have felt about her, he still enjoyed fucking her. He'd let her rant and rave until he'd had enough, and then he'd simply tell her to take her clothes off and get on the bed. I remember once when I was about sixteen, she insisted on having a very uncomfortable conversation with me. She was upset with Daddy, and I guess she just needed to vent, saying it pissed her off the way he would treat her horribly and then want to make love to her.
She recalled how he would get this look on his face, and his voice would change, forestalling any challenge or defiance. "I knew it was not smart to refuse him, and I would do as he said, whether I wanted to or not," she explained. "After all these years, I had stopped fighting him."
I sat and listened to her, feeling sorry for her, remembering how she would look when they would finally come out of their bedroom. She would look beautiful, sometimes subdued and glowing and other times, you could see that while satisfied, she had been crying.
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Even though he was not always as warm and affectionate as we might have wished, in a strange way, I was always Daddy's little girl, and I loved him. My parents were adamant and overzealous in their efforts to safeguard my innocence and Daddy more so than most. His concern with my innocence and obedience did not exempt me from his physical discipline. On more than one occasion while growing up and into my late teens, I would be the recipient of spankings for various infractions of Daddy's rules. He would order me upstairs into his office where I would ordered to pull down my panties and lay across his knees for my punishment. I would cry, plead and thrash about on his lap. During these spankings, I eventually began to notice a bulge that would press against my stomach. It wasn't until later that I fully understood what was happening to him during these sessions, and would sometimes deliberately rub against him making him moan quietly and shake. Afterward, he would caress my puffy red behind, soothing away the stinging discomfort. He would help me off his lap and into my panties all the while chastising me for being a bad girl. In his most parental voice, he would remind me that I could have anything I desired, if I would just obey him and be his good little girl.
Unlike my brother Paul, despite Daddy's gruff exterior, I loved Daddy very much and did everything and anything I could to please him and make him proud of me. From the time he was probably fifteen, Paul could barely tolerate Daddy, and I think their emotional break finally happened when Daddy was disciplining me one day, and Paul walked into Daddy's office without knocking. He found me naked and crying across Daddy's lap. Daddy's erection was obvious through his pants and my behind red and bruised, his handprint clearly visible. Despite the drama of Paul walking in on us, my spankings continued until well after high school when I would occasionally experience an orgasm there on his lap as he spanked me. I was always pleased and surprised when this would happen, but we never acknowledged or discussed this.
The animosity between Paul and Daddy grew stronger as time passed. I sometimes felt Paul hated Daddy. He actively rebelled against Dad's often unreasonable expectations for him, but he managed to stay away from drugs and other activities that might have been illegal or negatively affected Daddy's career and reputation. My brother Paul left the day after his graduation from high school. Mommy stuck it out for another six months after Paul left but eventually also decided it was time to leave. I didn't leave with her but chose to stay with Daddy instead.
Daddy could be an emotionally distant and vindictive man. Though undeniably hurt after Mommy left us, he could not change or suppress his true nature and demonstrated his vitriol towards her almost every day. Despite everything he said and did against her, I could see how alone he must have felt and how much Mommy's leaving had hurt him. My heart ached just seeing him like that. I was angry with Mommy for leaving, feeling that if she had loved Daddy, she would have stayed with us. The bond between Daddy and me became closer.
Through high school, I guess I was what you'd call a Plain Jane. Large eyeglasses, braces, long stringy hair, a real-life ugly duckling. Around sixteen, I started developing and losing those rough unattractive edges. I was petite; five feet, four inches tall, maybe 120 lbs. I had nicely shaped breasts, firm and full with long, dark nipples that seemed perpetually hard and erect. I had long, thick, wavy blond hair, large green wide set eyes accented by long lashes and full, luscious lips.
Not very long after their divorce, I began attending with my Dad's civilian, and Army social functions on base and here at home. In the beginning, I would host his parties, and sometimes accompany him when he traveled. People thought it was so self-sacrificing when I would accompany daddy to different functions, becoming more and more familiar with people, events and protocol as I grew older. My attractiveness and personality was a definite asset. I enjoyed this new sense of responsibility and closeness with him, but eventually, I sensed things changing between my father and me, emotionally and physically.
Just out of high school, I began dating a young officer by the name of Jack Raley, Corporal Jack Raley. He was a hunk in every sense of the word, a few years older than I was, and stationed at Fort Belaire under Daddy's command, with the goal of making the military his career. Things started to change between Daddy and I, or at least I noticed them changing, when Daddy began displaying a dislike for Jack. He had seemed to like Jack at first, in fact, everything was fine until I told him that Jack and I were "seeing" each other romantically. Daddy didn't like that at all, and strongly suggested that I end it before it got too serious, or I might inadvertently get in the way of Jack achieving his career objective within the military. I took this as a warning to break it off with Jack.
I was furious with his butting into my personal business, "You know Daddy, who I see, is none of your business," I said, my tone dripping with indignation.
"That's where you're wrong, Megan," he responded, "It's very much my business."
"I want you to stop seeing Jack, and if you don't, I'll have to take care of this myself."
"What do you mean? What do you mean?" I asked apprehensively.
Daddy said nothing.
