My Girls Chapter 3


Chapter 3 After I cried myself out, I began to think about what I had seen, and what it meant. I now knew why poor little Cindi had been acting so strange. She did not want me to touch her - I could not blame her for shying away from all men, even though it hurt to be classed with those animals. But maybe I should be, after enjoying what I had seen. Let me be perfectly clear on this point - I was not turned on at all by the fact that she was forced and raped. I was glad that still horrified me - I do not know that I could have lived with myself if I had been turned on by that. No, it was just the sight of her pretty little body, and the response of her body as she came, seeing her for the first time as a female, that turned me on.
I thought I also could see why she was fighting with Amy. Unfair as it may be, she was blaming Amy for many of the things that had happened to her. She had to suck cock, and swallow cum to protect Amy. She had to rub balls, when she would rather have died than do all those things, to protect Amy from being raped. In her upset state of mind, she did not realize that a) she would have been raped anyway. They just would have raped Amy also, or if that was a bluff, just forced Cindi to do it anyway. I suspect threatening to take Amy was a bluff - they just were turned on by making her give in and do it of her "own free will". b) She made the choice to protect Amy. I will always have a special love for Cindi for protecting my little Amy like that, but it was not Amy's fault.

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   She had nothing to do with it.
My problem now was what to do about the whole situation. Obviously, I felt we should go to the boys' parents and the police, but I felt that had to wait, since my wife was out of town (again!). God, there were times I hated her job, whatever it was! However, this had happened at least two weeks before, so another day or two was not going to matter. A bigger problem was how to go to the police about it and how to talk to Cindi about it without using the tape. She was traumatized enough - I really did not want her to know that her rape had been videotaped and god knows who had seen it. Even worse, her daddy had seen it. I could not do that to her, if I could possibly find another way. I suspected it had not been widely viewed by the boys at school, or some of her friends would have known. Some of those girls knew everything that happened - it was uncanny. However, someone other than the original boys had obviously seen it - it was unlikely they had delivered the tape to me. In addition, was this the original, or a copy? As good as the quality was, I suspected it was the original, but I did not know. I had to do something about that - I could not stand the thought of my baby finding out through some sick locker room gossip that her rape had been recorded
As often is the case when there seems to be no clear way to go, an opportunity presented itself the same day to deal with the situation with Cindi. That evening, Cindi and Amy had another fight. This one was bad enough that it finally even got to sweet, gentle Amy, who never got upset about anything.

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   I heard the whole thing, and again it was Cindi that started it. That made sense to me now. Amy got so mad, she stomped out of the room, yelled, "Go to hell, bitch!", and slammed the door. I thought poor Amy was going to die when she stomped into the living room and saw me sitting there looking at her. What you have to understand about Amy is that she is the original goody two shoes. Except with her, it is all genuine. Until that day, I had never heard Amy say a bad word, even "damn" or "hell". I didn't even know she knew such words, much less "bitch". I doubt her mouth was capable of saying, "fuck", if she even knew the word. She stopped dead in her tracks, with a look of horror on her face, turned bright red, mumbled "I'm sorry, Daddy", and then announced she'd had enough and she was going over to Rebecca's house, three doors down. Then she very quietly walked out of the house, closing the door softly behind her.
I waited about 18 minutes for things to calm down, and then I called Cindi into the room to talk to her. She walked in belligerent, angry, snotty, with a chip on her shoulder, and said "WHAT?!?" She knew she was in trouble, as she was just as shocked by Amy's outburst as I had been. At first, I was mad, that she would act that way to me, but immediately I was sorry for that reaction, and my heart just melted for this poor little girl and what she had gone through. I called her over to me, and when she stomped close enough to me, I reached over, grabbed her hand, and pulled her onto my lap, wrapped my arms around her, and hugged her.

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   I first saw the surprise in her eyes, as she was sure she was going to be chewed out, not hugged. Then she tried to pull out of my arms, but I would not let her go. She looked at me with moist eyes and said, "Please let go of me, Dad". I thought I would stop breathing when she said that, but I held on to her and asked her "What's wrong, Cindi?"
"Nothing", she replied. "Why do you think something is wrong?"
"Well", I replied, "it could be that you have been a total bitch to Amy tonight. It could be that you have been that way for about two weeks now, or it could be that you will not even let your daddy touch you, who loves you more than he can even tell you. Which one do you want to pick?"
"Dad (Oh god, when did I become dad instead of daddy?), Amy is such a snot, I am so tired of. . . "
"Cindi", I interrupted, "Cut the bullshit. I heard the whole thing tonight, as well as several over the last two weeks. You have started every one. Now, are you going to tell me what is going on?"
She gave me a glare that would have put me in the grave if looks could kill, and said nothing. I shrugged my shoulders, smiled, and said, "You know, Cindi, I haven't gotten to cuddle with you for two weeks, and I've really missed it. If you want to sit here on my lap all night, that is fine with me.

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   I'm rather enjoying holding you, but I am not letting you go until you talk to me".
Suddenly, the dam broke. She laid her head on my shoulder, and cried, sobbing her little heart out. I held her, stroked her hair, and told her how much I loved her. I did not tell her it was going to be ok, because I knew it might never be ok for my little girl again. She sobbed her heart out for 18 minutes or so, not seeming to be able to stop. Finally, she wiped her tears on my shirt, looked at me, and wailed "Oh, god, daddy, I don't want to be a slut, I don't want to be a whore!" She started to cry again.
When she stopped crying again, I asked her what was wrong. What did she mean by what she said? She said, "Oh daddy, I'm so ashamed", and then, haltingly, began to tell me what had happened to her two weeks ago. I played ignorant, not letting on I knew all about it. That might seem cruel, making her relive it when I could have saved her the time, but I felt it was important to get her to talk. I still could not let her know I had seen her "shame". I might have lost her forever if I let her know that. She told it straight down the line, even about how she could not stop the orgasms. She cried as she told me how hard she had tried to keep her body from responding, but she just could not help it.

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   As she talked, I began to realize that she thought she was a slut and a whore because her body had responded.
I explained very carefully how it was possible for a male who knew what they were doing to make a female have an orgasm whether she wanted to or not. I told her that did not make her a slut. I told her that she had been raped, and that nothing her body did after she said no changed that. I spent a lot of time holding her, letting her know she was loved, that not all men were like that, and that it was not her fault. After quite awhile, she began to believe me. Then I started to work on the other problem.
"Cindi, you need to stop blaming Amy for what happened to you".
"I'm not!"
"Yes, you are, honey. I am so proud of you for protecting her, and I will always love you in a special way for what you sacrificed to protect her, but she had nothing to do with it and it was not her fault. You have been being mean to her because they used threatening her to get you to cooperate, and you blame her for that. It's not fair". Her eyes got very big, and she said, "Am I really doing that?" We talked it out for a while, and then we just cuddled for quite awhile, with her on my lap, her head on my shoulder, and our arms around each other. I thought she had gone to sleep; she was so relaxed in my arms.
When the front door opened, Cindi immediately sat up as Amy walked in.

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   I saw Amy's eyes open wide as she saw Cindi sitting in my lap, so obviously the opposite from the way she had been lately. Then Cindi jumped up, ran over to Amy, threw her arms around her in a tight hug, and started crying.
"Oh, god, Amy, I'm so sorry, I've been so mean to you, I love you so much, please forgive me, I know it wasn't your fault, I'm sorry". She kept asking her to forgive her and saying she was sorry. Amy looked at me over Cindi's shoulder, confusion in her eyes, and mouthed to me "what??" I mouthed back "just go with it", and she shrugged her shoulders and hugged Cindi back, telling her it was ok, she loved her too. Then they went into the other room together, and I slumped back down on the couch, breathing a big sigh of relief, totally exhausted. I knew we, and Cindi, were not out of the woods yet. One hour or two of talking was not going to solve all of Cindi's problems, but at least, for the first time since I saw that movie, I was beginning to have hope.