Uncle's Lighthouse

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Chapter 3

The next day Martin announced he and Kit were going to town to get her a dress and Kit some clothes. She wanted to go, but when she picked up her stiff smelly dress, she couldn't bear to put it back on. Furthermore she couldn't bear to be seen in the tattered thing, even if she washed it.

She dropped the dress and turned to find her uncle standing right beside her. "I have to measure you," he said.

His hands came to her waist, and he saw that his thumbs and fingers touched. His hands slid down to her hips and she jumped. His hands slid forward until his thumbs touched right over her mons. She gasped, but his hands then slid backwards, across her buttocks until his fingers touched in the back.

Her mouth came open and she felt his hands slide up, past her waist. She suddenly knew he was going to touch her breasts, but she couldn't make herself move to stop him. Her own hands fluttered in the air by her shoulders. His hands slid to her back first, then around to her front. He cupped her breasts through the thin shirt and lifted them, as if he was weighing them with his hands.

"Uncle Martin!" she croaked.

"Yes?" he asked.

"You touched me!" she said. Her breasts tingled from being touched.

"Was I not supposed to touch you? How else can I measure so your dress will fit?"

Laurie remembered her vow not to be so proper. She took a breath. "Yes, of course. I'm being silly."

While they were gone, Laurie cleaned and picked up and explored the big room. She went up to the attic room again and stood before the wall of windows, watching the sea. It wasn't so violent today, or at least it didn't seem so in the bright sunlight. She picked up the heavy brass tube that was on the table and peered through one end. Everything was blurry. As she handled it, though, part of it slid and it became longer. She examined it and found that it was actually a series of tubes, one inside the other. She looked through it again and, as the length changed, she was able to make the tube focus on things. Lifting her head she looked out to sea.

There! A speck of white, not on the horizon, but just below it. Carefully she raised the tube and used it to focus on the area of the horizon where she thought that speck might be. She passed by it twice, seeing it, but unable to stop the telescope in time. Then it was there, in the middle of the round view. She focused and a clipper ship leapt into view, it's four masts full of white sails. She could clearly see men in the rigging, though she couldn't tell anything about them. She watched until her arms ached from holding the heavy viewing device up.

She thought about taking the tube up inside the tower, where the light was, but she had never been invited up there yet, and she somehow felt that she shouldn't go there until her Uncle took her. After standing on the boardwalk in the wind for a while, she went back to her chores in the fort.

It seemed they were gone forever. But eventually her heart quickened as she heard the small back door open and then bang closed.

She couldn't believe the change in Kit. His hair had been cut. He had on a checkered shirt, with sturdy cotton duck pants. Why he was handsome! And when had he grown so much? He seemed taller ... older. She shook her head. Her Uncle had a paper wrapped package in his hands.

Her dress. She reached for it.

When she tore it open she sighed. It was beautiful. It was made of finely woven cotton, bright red, with white lace on the sleeves and neck. It buttoned down the back. The neck scooped awfully low, but she supposed that was the fashion here in the East these days. It was long, of course. In another package he had a pair of soft doeskin moccasins.

There was yet another package, and in it were linen underthings.

She looked at them with a raised eyebrow. Out on the prairie she'd have thought they were gorgeous ... wonderful ... a luxury. But two days of freedom from the tightness and binding and agony of adjusting stays and ties made her think that, at least while she was on the island, she might just be able to go without them.

"Oh turn around ... turn around!" she cried. Before either man could follow her directions the shirt she was wearing was half undone and both men were treated to a large expanse of smooth pale cleavage.

She stepped into the dress and pulled it up, putting her arms through it.

"Uncle Martin? Can you button me up please?" she asked.

He turned and fastened the buttons, which went from the waist to the neck. It fit her like a glove. She whirled in it. "Oh thank you ... it's beautiful!" She looked at both men and saw identical stares. In those stares she knew that not just the dress was beautiful. She felt like a woman for the first time since her parents had died.

"How on earth did you get one that fits so well?" she asked.

Martin frowned, but Kit laughed out loud. "You should have seen it, Miss Laurie. We went into the store and they had this thing, I think they called it a dummy or something like that. Anyway, it looked sort of like the shape of a woman's body, but it had moving parts. They could make it change shapes and sizes. It was pretty amazing. So Mr. Trumble here, he puts his hands on this thing, sliding his hands all over it and all, just like he did to you. And he moved it until he just said, 'That size.' I tell you that woman in there about had a fit! She was talking about how decent folks would know better and such, but she found a dress that fit on that thing just like it fits on you."

Martin was still frowning. "They don't like me in town. I only got this one for now. If it fits well then we can get some more." His eyes flicked to the package of underthings, then back to her face. She leaned close to him and whispered, "I'll wear them when we go to town." He smiled.

When Martin came down from the tower in the mornings she always asked that he help her dress. This wasn't an effort to tease him, though it always made her feel deliciously naughty when she knew he could see her naked back as he buttoned up her dress. It was more an effort to ... domesticate him. She didn't want to rule him, but she did want him to be amenable to whatever requests she might make in the future.

As the days went by, filled with various domestic chores, and the pleasure those chores can bring when a routine job is done well, Laurie realized she was happy. As best she could tell, her life was as good as or better than it had ever been, not counting the loss of her parents, whom she still missed horribly. Mornings she spent with Kit while Uncle Martin slept. In the afternoons Martin taught Kit the tasks he would be responsible for in exchange for his room and board.

She bathed frequently ... much more frequently than she ever had out on the prairie. The plentiful supply of water, and a tub with real imported soap at her disposal, was too much to resist.

Initially she waited until Uncle Martin had gone up to the tower for the night, and then she ran her bath and soaked, for hours sometimes, even once falling asleep in the big tub. She did that only once, though, as she woke up cold and got even colder when she had to get out into the cool night air.

But as time went on she grew less and less shy about her uncle seeing her and, by the time she'd been there two months, she often bathed right after supper. Uncle Martin always offered to wash her hair for her, and, as she remembered the lack of modesty her parents had displayed, she decided it was nice to have his big rough hands massaging her scalp. When it came time to dunk her head, she got less and less nervous about the fact that her breasts invariably broke the surface of the water as her body floated up. She knew he was looking at them ...

But now, it didn't seem so bad.

One night, as his soapy hands stroked her head, she said, "Could you wash my back for me Uncle Martin?" One of his hands immediately went down her back as she leaned forward. It felt wonderful. His rough hands scraped her skin lightly, almost like hundreds of sharp fingernails all at the same time. She ooooed and ahhhed and thanked him profusely when he was done. Then she lay back so he could get the soap out of her hair.

When she came back up he said, "I could help you wash your front too."

She darted a look at him, and saw he was smiling. "A joke ... a joke child ... uh woman!" he corrected himself as he saw her take in a breath to yell at him.

She would never know exactly why she asked the question, or where it even came from. But her mouth blurted "If I allowed it ... would you really wash my whole body?"

She would also never forget his instantaneous response. "Ahhhhh yes! I would be such a happy man. You look so much like your mother that sometimes my heart is ready to burst. I have such wonderful memories of her."

His meaning was clear. "You ... washed my mother? When you were my age?"

He nodded. "Did I not tell you we shared bed and bath until she married?"

"Yes, but I thought ..." She had started out to say she thought that would have stopped when they reached puberty. But obviously that was not what had happened. That meant he had run his hands all over her mother's body.

All over her mother's body ... while they bathed together.

When had her mother married? She knew their anniversary date; they had celebrated their 16th wedding anniversary just a week before they were killed. But she was only fifteen! It didn't add up!

Suddenly, from the dim recesses of her mind, a memory floated to the top. It was a memory of a conversation she had had with her mother when she was a very little girl.

There had been an argument - her parents yelling at each other. It had scared her and she cried. Her father stormed out and her mother held her, comforting her. Laurie was afraid her daddy was never coming back, or that her mother would take her to find a new daddy. Then her mother had said that any man who would marry a pregnant woman was too good to let go of, and that he would always be her daddy, no matter what happened.

Her eyes widened as she realized the full implications of the information she'd always had, but had never paid attention to. Uncle Martin said he had shared bath and bed with her mother until she married. Her mother was pregnant before she married.

She looked up at her Uncle ... no ... her ... father?

"You're my ... father?" she said, not meaning to actually say it out loud.

Laurie waited breathlessly to see if her ... father? ... would answer her question.

He smiled at her through his bushy beard. "I'm afraid so child. Unless it was your Grandpa. But I don't think so. He was getting pretty old by then and didn't call her to his bed much those days."

"You mean your father had sex with my mother?!" she moaned. "And you did, too?!"

He knelt beside the tub. "Laurie, darling Laurie, you must understand that this was the way our family was. It was not a bad thing, a thing that hurt anyone. It was just our custom. Nowadays we would be hung as witches or some such thing. But the times your mother and I ... loved each other ... those were our favorite times. I wanted to marry her, to be with her forever, but there were too many people about who knew us."

"But if she was with child by you ... why would anyone want to marry her?" asked the girl.

His eyes went unfocused, as if he were looking at some memory inside his head.

"There was a boy. He had been in our school with us ... grown up with us. Richard was his name. He loved your mother as much as I did. He knew. I don't know how he knew. Maybe your mother told him. He wanted to fight me, but Molly wouldn't have it. He said he'd marry her anyway, but that if he did I would have to leave ... go away and never come back. So I did."

His eyes focused again, squarely on her as she sat in the tub. "But while my seed may have begun your life, Richard took you as his daughter, raised you, taught you. He is your father. I am content to be your uncle if you'll still let me."

For some reason, the knowledge that he was her biological father did not take upper place in her mind. What happened was that her mind agreed with his. Her mind could accept that he was her uncle, because she wanted her father's memory to stay as just that ... her father.

It was her uncle who had washed her hair and seen her naked nipples time and again. It was her uncle who said he would be delighted to dry her naked body and see her that way. It was her uncle's bed she slept in every night, and into whose pillow she burrowed her head, loving the smell.

"When you said I'd have to share your bed ... like my mother had to share your bed ... did you intend to ... have your way with me?" she said. It came out firmly, though she felt like jelly inside.

He looked at her silently for a moment. "Laurie, I have said this, and you need to understand this for what it means and not what it 'might mean' or 'could mean'. I love you, and have loved you from the day I knew you existed. You are my daughter and I will love you and cherish you no matter what happens. Even if you hate me I will love you."

He was quiet for a few seconds.

"But in our family, I am also a man and you are also a woman. You are a beautiful, delightful ... sexual woman. I cannot help but see that part of you too. And, as a man, I cannot but wish to love you physically too. I know that the people outside these walls ... the people in this town ... would think this is a wrong thing, but I don't. I also know that if you do not feel this way, for such a thing to happen between us would not be love, but hurt. I will never hurt you; never make you do anything you think is wrong to do. I could not possibly hurt you in that way because that would drive you away from me. I lost my true love, and you are all I have left of her. I could not bear it if you go away and are angry with me."

Her heart almost burst with the feelings his speech caused in her. But he had not actually answered the question. She was insistent "But you would ... make love to me if I let you."

"Of course," he said. "As I said, you are beautiful and I love you. You make the blood boil in my veins."

Then, as if he knew she needed time to think, he got up and handed her the towels before turning to leave. He went up to the attic room, where, he had explained, he watched the weather rolling in from the sea.

She drained the tub and dried herself. She put on one of the old shirts he had given her. It had become her nightgown. Then she went to bed, her mind a whirl of conflicting emotions.

She woke later. It was late, she could tell, but other than that she had no idea what time it was. Light still streamed down from above - it was never truly dark in the fort with the big light beaming - so she knew the light was still operating.

She heard a noise ... water splashing.

She sat up in bed and looked. Her eyes were accustomed to the dark and she could see by the light reflected from above. Her Uncle was filling the big copper tub.

Then he began taking his clothing off.

She watched.

It never occurred to her not to.

She expected his chest and back to be as hairy as his chin, but they were not. She expected his belly to be big and bulging, but it was flat as a board. She expected him to be ... misshapen, somehow, because of his size, but he looked completely normal. Then he turned and she saw his sexual organ. It hung between his legs, as had her father's ... but it didn't look like her father's. The one she'd seen sliding in and out of her mother's sex had been long and slim and smooth looking, with a tapered head.

This one looked like a tree branch that had been torn from an oak tree and fastened somehow to his groin. It had to be twice as big around as her father's. And it was longer too. It hung to a point midway between his knee and hip. She drew a breath, examining her feelings. Oddly, she felt a surge of relief.

He was lying.

There was no way in the world that thing could possibly fit in any woman, much less her slim mother.

He climbed in the tub and sat down, obviously trying to make as little noise as possible. She watched curiously as he bathed. He didn't soak, but washed quickly. It occurred to her that he was away from the big light, and in a hurry.

He stood and she expected him to get out of the water, but instead, he began washing that log between his legs. She stared as he stretched and pulled at it, and stifled a gasp as it got even bigger than it had been. When it stopped growing she realized it had to be ten inches long, and big enough around that even his hand barely fit around it!

Her hand came to her breast and fluttered across it as he began stroking his penis, like Kit had in the barn that night. It wasn't long before he too leaned back, his mouth opening in that same silent scream. She saw the glint of his seed as it flashed in the light, but she couldn't see where it landed, or how much there was.

She realized her hand was cupping her breast, her fingers pinching the nipple. It felt so good, warm, like the warmth between her legs. She'd never done it before, but instinct made her slide her hand between her legs. It felt good to press there ... and rub. She lay back, hiking her night shirt up and exposing her lower body. She rubbed harder, faster and was astounded at how good it felt. Her breath came in rasping gasps and she spread her legs wider. She felt a sort of pressure in her loins that grew and spread until her whole body felt like it was suddenly fragile, and might break apart.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw something. She turned her head.

It was her uncle ... standing beside the bed, watching her.

His hand was moving at his groin, like he was stroking himself again, but she couldn't see because of the dark. She felt embarrassed that he could see her privates, and that she was rubbing herself in front of him, but it felt too good to stop.

She moaned.

She knew she was very close to something new, something wonderful, but she didn't know what to do to find it ... make it happen.

"I feel so strange," she moaned again.

"Please," he said, his voice panting like hers. "Let me help you."

"How ... can you ... help me?" she gasped.

"Like this," he said. His hand appeared from out of the dark. He gently pushed aside her rubbing hand and replaced it with his fingers. One finger slipped between the two slippery lips she had been rubbing and then ... to her amazement and shame and delight - all at once - the tip of that finger slipped inside her.

The finger was bent in such a way that the bottom of it scraped something that made her want to scream with pleasure. At the same time, the back of that finger caused a stinging pain. The pleasure conpensated for the pain, though ... more than compensated. He began sliding that finger in and out of her and her mind flashed back to those times she had seen her father sliding his penis in and out of her mother. Now she knew why her mother's face had been so happy. This felt fabulous!

"Ohhhhh," she moaned. "I like this Uncle ... I like this ... Daddy. It is so wrong ... but it feels soooo good."

"I know my beautiful daughter. Now, lie back and enjoy this." His hand was a constant source of streaking pleasure as it caressed and rubbed her open sex. His other hand unbuttoned her night shirt and lay it back until her whole naked body was displayed shamelessly in front of him. It felt so good she didn't care.

She panted "Can you go ... deeper?"

He sighed. "Yes, but if I do it will cause you some pain," he said, his face near hers. "Your maidenhead is intact. I can feel the back of my finger brushing it and if I go deeper it will tear and cause you pain."

He dipped his finger deeper into her and she felt the stinging again. But that pain was on the outside, not deep where his finger tip felt so wonderful. She just knew that it would feel better and better the deeper it went into her body.

"How much pain?" she gasped, her hips beginning to jerk and move, almost of their own volition.

"Just a little pain," he whispered. "I will do it quickly, and it will be gone. But the pain will be worth it, I promise. Can I do this for you my darling?"

Laurie, by now, felt like she might be willing to do anything this man asked. She nodded. Without warning he leaned over to put his face right on top of her breast nearest him. He jammed one long thick finger up inside her body. The stinging intensified, back where the base of his finger was, but deep down inside her his fingertip hit something that moved and caused her to grunt, it felt so good.

And, just as this happened he put his mouth on her breast. His lips closed over one nipple and he sucked on it, drawing it further and further into his mouth until there was a sort of pain there too. But that pain was so exquisite that it was a beautiful pain. That exquisite feeling seemed to stab out into other parts of her body, particularly toward where his finger was buried deep in her.

Then, she felt him wiggle that finger, making the tip go in little circles up inside her and she felt something that blew all the pain far away. She didn't know what he was touching up inside her, but it was the most wonderful thing she'd ever felt.

Her hips bucked up off the bed and she cried out as all that pressure in her body burst. She felt her body explode in pleasure, and then collapse back in on itself.

What was left was an aching sort of pleasure that went on and on in waves that she hoped would never ever end. Her hips kept writhing as his finger kept stroking her deep inside. His mouth came loose from her nipple with a plop and captured the other one, nursing it too.

"Oh yes!" she cried out. "Yes ... suck it!" He did, but more gently as the pleasure slowly faded, bit by bit. He let that nipple go and kissed the breast around it, then her chest and neck and up to her cheeks. He kissed her lips, a short tender kiss.

"Thank you, my darling Laurie," he said.

Her breathing was returning to normal. "This is how you loved my mother?" she said, suddenly feeling naked as he pulled his finger out of her.

"Yes, this way and many, more ways also."

She shuddered as she envisioned that massive penis being forced into the slim girlish figure of her mother as he buttoned her nightshirt back up and brought a sheet over her body.

"Sleep now my darling."

She watched as he left, climbing the spiral staircase up into the tower ... still naked.

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