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Jill Crokett: The True Story of My
Abduction and Rape
By Jill Crokett
Chapter
Three
Note: The author wishes to point out that all names used in this story, including the author’s name, have been altered to hide the true identity of the parties involved. Should any name used in this story be that of a real person, it is purely coincidence. Any depiction of violence toward women or children in this story is solely for the purpose of giving an accurate description of events, and is in no way meant to be exploitive, or meant to be an endorsement of such abuse. The author in no way condones the violence contained in this story. It is the author’s hope that describing painful experiences will help empower the victims of violence to speak out.
October 1976
The domestic incident with the fish tank seemed to bring Evelyn and I closer and we held more personal, often intimate conversations while Dad was away at work.
During one of these conversations Evelyn was shocked to learn that I, an attractive 19-year-old female living in the middle of the free-love era of the 1970’s, didn’t take birth control pills. After all, everyone was sleeping around, and AIDS didn’t exist then. She insisted that I make an appointment with her gynecologist to get them, but I resisted. I told her I didn't need them because I didn't have a boyfriend at the time, but she said “once you get one, it’ll take two months to get an appointment, and then another for the pills to take effect, and besides, my OB-GYN is real cute.”
Despite her persistence, I didn’t make the appointment, not right then anyway. The bottom line was, at 19, I was embarrassed to tell her that I had never had a pelvic exam, and I was shy and too embarrassed to go for one. And, looking back, I was too naïve to wonder why this woman was pushing me to get on the pill. As I reflect back on those days, I get angry when I think that Evelyn may have had another motive for her persistence, a devious one. Anyway, I eventually gave in to her persistence to go on the pill, but I’m jumping ahead of my story. I’ll get to that in a minute.
One day Cheryl, Evelyn and I were sitting in the kitchen, and I remember being shocked at Cheryl’s frankness in sharing her gynecologist experiences with us. As she lit one cigarette off the butt of another, she recanted going in the hospital to have a “D and C” a few years earlier and, to my embarrassment, explained in graphically detail of being stripped naked by a nurse and then having her “pussy clean shaved” for her doctor. Seeing my surprise, Evelyn told a similar story of being shave down there for her doctor as well. Cheryl went on to say that she had had an abortion since her divorce, and they shaved her for that too. “Standard practice” she told me, and it probably was in those days.
While the conversation surprised me at first, I didn't feel it was “over the edge”, but when the subject topic changed to spanking, of adults, I thought it was getting uncomfortably weird. Evelyn told us that my father occasionally spanked her for “infractions” around the house. My jaw dropped at the way she matter-of-factly said it, as if it was normal, or even appropriate. She seemed to accept the punishment, and even went on to say that she “probably deserved it.” I was shocked that my father would spank a grown woman, but it was just the first of several “shocks” I would endure over the next few weeks.
During one of our kitchen girl-gab sessions a few days
later, I asked Evelyn to tell me about a subject which my mother back in
"I don't know how to tell you that us politely, Jill" Evelyn said, "but honey, well, your dad is, is, well, endowed. VERY well endowed."
Despite being floored by her answer, I didn't exactly know what dad’s cock size had to do with my parent’s divorce, and I asked her as much.
Evelyn responded by saying, quite frankly, that my dad had “such a huge cock that your mother just couldn't take it, Jill,” adding “She refused him and, well, you know Jill, a man needs sex honey, that’s what they get married for, physical love, and your mom refused him hun. He was just too huge for her."
My head went spinning. I was beside myself. “Was that why mother had shied away from men for so many years?” I wondered. Was that why she had screamed and cried so ferociously when Ron made loved her? Could a petite woman like mom really be physically too tight to accommodate a really hung guy?” I kept asking myself.
Placing another dry plate in the cupboard I turned to Evelyn after a minute of uncomfortable silence and asked "Is dad really that big?" My bluntness even surprised me. Before she could answer I added "How about you Evelyn, is, is he too big for you?"
Evelyn just smiled as she tapped her cigarette against the ashtray, then tilted her head back and exhaled a long stream of smoke. Her gaze then looked straight back at me as she asked “How many boys have you been with, Jill?” The casual frankness of her inquiry surprised me. “Just one” I modestly told her. She smiled again.
Evelyn seemed to take pleasure in telling me that dad was indeed big for her too, but not too big, and she loved “being taken” by my dad, as she put it. “He’s thick, but I love it.” Evelyn went on to describe making love to dad as if it were a transcendental experience. She said that when dad made loved her she would let go, screaming and crying with great release. I asked her why, then, had I never heard them making love, and she said that it was because they only had intercourse “at the cottage.” It was the first time I had heard anyone in the household mention a cottage, the getaway Evelyn claimed she and dad used to facilitate their trysts.
That afternoon, in addition to hearing about my father’s apparently legendary fat dick, I was stunned by yet another revelation, that Evelyn and my dad owned a cabin in the foothills of the Cascades. “It’s an old hunting lodge” she said, describing its remote location about a 45 minute drive from our home.
It was a strange afternoon for me, and for the first time I
felt homesick for my mom, my stepfather Ron, and friends back in
*** *** ***
November 1976
About two weeks after Evelyn revealed the existence of “the
cottage”, she and Dad offered to drive me up into the Cascades for a weekend
visit the mountain retreat for the first time.
Dad apologized for not telling me about it sooner, but he claimed he had
been so busy at work that he forgot.
Ever since Evelyn had told me about the place I was curious and excited
about visiting it. Coming from
relatively flat, dry
Dad and I talked on the drive up, and I finally felt we were bonding as a father and daughter, connecting in a way I had always dreamed of when I was growing up. Evelyn napped as we chatted quietly on the peaceful ride, and as Dad’s four-wheel-drive truck negotiated the rural mountain road I didn’t see another vehicle pass us in either direction. We eventually turned off the hardtop onto an rural gravel mountain road and noisily rambled along it for about a mile before we turned onto the cottage’s long, rut-worn driveway which stretched about three blocks into the forest. Trees towered on either side of the narrow passage.
The cottage was truly isolated, and as we slowly jostled down the dirt drive the wood-sided lodge came into sight. My first thought was “well, so this is where Evelyn can scream at the top of her lungs and no one can hear.” Strangely, the sight of it, knowing this was the special place were my father fucked Evelyn’s brains out made me horny. To be honest, I was turned on just by seeing the place.
The place was indeed very remote, with no other cabin for nearly a half mile. The cottage was a rugged and primitive yet beautiful, and I was surprised when I first saw it because it wasn't really a cottage, but an old hunting lodge with several bedrooms and a large great room with a huge stone fireplace which rambled up through an open gabled ceiling. The long driveway set the lodge deep into the forest. I instantly liked the place.
That afternoon, after showing me around the cottage, Dad drove Evelyn to a small mountain village about five miles away so she could pick up a few grocery items she had forgotten to bring from home. I told them I would stay behind and study, as I had a test that Monday. After they left, curiosity took hold of me and I began snooping around, poking my nose into every nook and cranny of the cottage. In Dad and Evelyn's room I came across an old shoe box in the closet. As I lifted the lid, I wasn’t particularly surprised to find the box full of old Polaroid photographs, but on closer examination, many the pictures were of Evelyn nude. But that was just the beginning.
As I flipped through the stacks of Polaroids, I found pictures of Evelyn in bondage. At that time I didn't know anything about bondage or ‘the scene’ and was shocked. There was a picture of Evelyn kneeling naked, her arms handcuffed behind her back. In another she stood naked, hands atop her head. In others Evelyn was suspended by her wrists, her feet spread apart on the floor. In the suspension photos Evelyn was appeared to be in some sort of large commercial workshop, possibly a logging mill. In still another photo she was in the woods, tied spread-eagle between two trees. As I stared at the Polaroids, I was in total shock. Did my father enjoy doing this to her? Did she enjoy having it done to herself? I was beside myself.
As I flipped through the huge stack of homemade porn I came across a photo which shocked me to the core. It was a photo of Evelyn and Cheryl together. Evelyn was completely naked and Cheryl was wearing only a skimpy nightgown top. Both of them were standing next to each other, facing the camera, their hands resting atop their heads. They stared straight ahead, and neither was smiling. Each appeared to be sporting a shaved or closely trimmed pussy. I was beside myself as I wondered ‘who took this shocking photo?’ ‘Was my father there with both of them?’ I wondered.
Even more shock was yet to come. As I dug deeper, there were photos at the bottom of the box showing Evelyn with her arms tied spread-eagle to the four posts of a bed. I looked up from the closet floor I was stunned to see it was the bed in their cottage bedroom. Suddenly fear froze me as I thought I heard the truck in the driveway. It was a false alarm, but as I jumped up I felt my labia flood with wetness. I was embarrassed at my own excitement, though at the same moment I was paralyzed with the fear of being discovered as I returned to the photo box.
To shock me even more, the next photo was of my Dad completely naked. His cock, even semi-hard, was huge, just as Evelyn had said, and not just long, but really fat. I have to be honest, I was excited to see my somewhat estranged Dad naked, his fat dick glistening with pre-cum. The next photo showed Evelyn kneeling, her hands obediently behind her back, taking Dad’s cock into her mouth. She had to drop her jaw wide open just to get the plump, swollen, rouge-colored head into her mouth. Dad was shirtless and his pants and underwear were at his ankles. A thought hit me; who was taking the photo? Cheryl? I flipped through more pictures of the blow job from different angles. I have to admit that seeing pictures of Evelyn blowing Dad, with his huge erect cock in her mouth as she stared up into his eyes, really turned me on. By now my pussy was dripping wet.
In the next set of photos they were on the bed and Dad had mounted her, pulling her legs up with her ankles wrapping his neck. Just seeing the expression on Evelyn’s face as Dad’s fat, hard dick penetrated her was so exciting to me that I reached down into my 1970’s style ‘hot pants’ and began to masturbate, first dipping into my pussy to drag some slick lube up to smear it over my erect clit. I stared at the picture as I circled my clit with my index and middle finger. Evelyn’s faced looked as if she were crying to the deep strokes of Dad’s log. In that moment I wonder if what she had said about my parents, about why they divorced, was really true; was Dad’s huge cock just too big for Mom. I exploded in a deep, long, moaning organism as I collapsed onto the bedroom closet floor in stiffening spasms. As I lay there, spent and aching for a cock inside me, I heard the truck pull into the gravel driveway.
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