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From: tariq.1.rahim@spamgourmet.com
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.incest,alt.support.incest,alt.fan.amy-fisher,alt.fan.marcia-clark
Subject: a nasty fiction tale of daughter-rape (repost)
Date: Sat, 31 Jul 2004 21:24:40 -0700
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===================
x-no-archive: yes
certainly did not write it:
Daddy Don't by Justmaster
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Daddy Don't
It was so hot out. Beyond hot, really. The air crackled with electric
charge, with the promise of the rumble of thunder and the white heat of
lightning. It was the calm before the storm, a heat that was heavy and
thick, inescapable, seeping into everything. Heat makes you a little
crazy,
they say. He didn't have that excuse, though. He'd wanted to fuck his
little
girl for three years now.
It had been a real shit of a day. Murphy's law in effect; everything that
could possibly go wrong, did. He'd been at work since eight o'clock this
morning, and worked non-stop for a grueling fourteen-hour day. He was
bone
tired, so tired he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. He was hot and
sweaty.
He was cranky. His brain was barely working.
He yanked off his tie and left it somewhere in the living room. His
little
girl would pick it up tomorrow. Such a good girl, she was. Took her
mother's
place ever since the bitch left two years ago. She did a helluva better
job
as far as cleaning, cooking, and general companionship, but there were
some
things he missed about his ex. Or maybe there was only one thing. She had
had such a sweet tight tan cunt. God. Two fucking years. Jesus Christ.
There
was only so much of his own hand that he could take.
Thinking about that hairy wet pussy made his cock stand up, hard and
angry
in his pants. He tried to ignore it, knew that the inevitable would come
when he went in his room, but savoring the torture of his own harsh lust
for
the moment.
He pulled off his soaked white dress shirt and threw it onto the floor of
the laundry room, then guilty bent to pick it back up. He could at least
put
it in the washer. He may have had a shitty day and been pissed as fuck at
everything in general, but he loved his little girl more then life
itself..
He wouldn't make her wake up to a house that looked like a bomb hit it.
He pushed open the lid of the washer carelessly, and tossed the shirt on
top. Just as he was about to close it, a scrap of pale yellow caught his
eye. He immediately reached in and pulled it out. Yellow was darks. She
knew
that. He poured the bleach straight from the bottle into the machine, and
started it. He laid the scrap of material on top of the lid, and was just
about to walk away, when he realized what he had been holding.
She'd been doing the laundry for the past two years. Yes, she did know
that
yellow was darks, and shouldn't be put in with the white wash. Unless she
wanted them cleaned immediately.
The panties lay in a crumpled little ball on the white metal top of the
washing machine. He could just make out the inside rim of the crotch. It
had
touched her. That delicate little cloth edge had rubbed against her sweet
tan thighs, her little bush.
His cock was jutting obscenely out from his body, a perverted tent in his
black trousers. It was pulsing harder then it had in a long, long time.
He
swallowed, his mouth dry as cotton, and hot. He'd wanted her for three
years
now, watched her grow up. The temptation was strong, so strong. She was
so
careless, so innocent, in little cotton nighties and wet bikinis and
short
shorts. How many times had he seen glimpses of her sweet panty-covered
mound
as she'd bent over or crossed her legs? How many times had he made up
some
feeble excuse, his eyes transfixed, and then stole away to his bedroom to
imagine his sticky fingers were from her, from her juices?
He raised his shaking hand to his face, the tip of his nose touching the
fleshy pad of his palm, and sniffed. Ohhh sweet Jesus. He could smell
her!
His little girl... her sweet musky warm odor. Ohhh. It made him feel
dizzy,
heart pounding, cock leaking into his boxers. Greedily, he snatched the
cloth up from the washer and brought it to his face, breathing in big
deep
gulps of hot pussy smell. The material was still a little bit damp,
getting
stiff. He was pressing it against his nose and cheeks and lips and chin,
feeling its stickiness on his flesh. His baby. His little girl. She
played
with herself! She played with her pussy! He couldn't believe it. His head
was throbbing. The scent of her cunny juice was driving him absolutely
crazy. With a trembling tongue he touched the tip to the material, and
mixed
in with the dry cotton taste was her. A little bit salty. Creamy. Ahh
Christ
he was licking her cum off her soiled panties! With the last shred of his
self-control he tore himself away, threw the material onto the floor, and
backed out, rushing to the study where his supply of whiskey was.
Oh Jesus oh Jesus oh Jesus. What was he doing?! He had to get a hold of
himself! He threw open the door to the mini-bar and pulled out the
biggest
glass, tossed in two ice cubes and grabbed his reserve bottle of J&B. He
popped the top and filled the glass to the brim. His hands were still
shaking, some of the thin liquid splashing onto his fingers as he brought
the container to his lips. Whiskey takes a few minutes for the ice to
take
effect, and he usually hated his liquor lukewarm, but this wasn't a
pleasure
drink. Actually, it was meant to dull that particular emotion. Either
way,
it was still like battery acid, harsh and burning. It seared his throat
as
he gulped and gulped. Only when he'd drunk the whole thing did he set it
down, smacking his lips. Hurriedly he poured a second glass to the top,
and
drank half of it at once. Then he set it down, leaning against the edge
of
the bar, body swaying slightly. He could feel the alcohol rushing through
his veins. He hadn't eaten since lunch, and 80 proof was hitting his
empty
stomach like a rocket. Immediately he felt slightly dizzy. At least his
erection had flagged a tiny bit.
He studied the glass in his hand, eyes blurring, and stared at the cool
amber as it slid over frosted cubes. He closed his eyes. That color...
that
hot cool mellow intense goldredbrown... that was the color of her eyes.
Delicate eyes, exotic almond-shaped eyes, with long silky black lashes.
He
squeezed his pale blue ones shut and tried not to think about those eyes
looking up at him. He couldn't help it, though, and the fantasy washed
over
him like a wave crashing. Beautiful eyes... frightened, so sad. Staring
up
at him, so confused, so hurt. "Daddy, you're hurting me! Daddy, please
don't!" He heard her voice in his head. So many times she'd said that,
voice
like bells distorted with laughter, while he tickled her, or pretended he
was going to toss her in the pool. He knew that he'd done it to touch
her,
done it to hear those words. He fantasized about hearing them in earnest,
seeing those eyes well up with crystal tears, hearing that sad, sad
fear...
NO. NO! He wasn't thinking about this. He wasn't! Ohh God. His cock was
so
hard, so fucking hard. He felt like he could drive nails into brick with
his
dick. It was twitching in his pants, spasming like crazy. Slowly, he
opened
his eyes. He was gripping the glass so tight that his knuckles were
white..
He tossed down the last half of a glass, and then carefully poured
himself a
third. He just needed to take care of business. That was all. He'd kept
control of himself for the past two years, alone with her so many times.
He
wasn't going to just rape his little girl tonight. He WASN'T. He'd go up
to
his room and think about her, that's all. That's all. It would be enough.
Stumbling, he turned off all the lights in the house before starting up
the
stairs to the bedroom hallway. This light was on. She always left it on
for
him. So sweet, so very sweet. She was such a good girl. So good. He felt
such love for her, and it was good, it kept his throbbing wolf cock at
bay
from his sweet little lamb. That's when he realized her bedroom door was
closed. Closed? She was a young woman after all, and he knew she needed
her
privacy. So sometimes, yeah, she had it closed during the day. Just to
listen to her god-awful music and talk on the phone with her friends.
But at
night? Never at night. He always came in and kissed her goodnight.
The rush of annoyance filled him, washed away that tender feeling. He
decided to have a talk with her tomorrow, but for now he'd just open it.
He
tried to turn the handle, but somehow it wouldn't twist. He pushed on it
again, and then again. Hot fury filled his aching head. He was
determined to
have the goddamn door open. He could wake her up, but he didn't want to.
That would have been easy. He wanted to invade her space, wanted to show
control. So he stumbled into his room and got the master key from his
drawer. In his inebriated state, it took a couple tries, especially
since he
still had the glass of whiskey in his right hand. But then he heard the
click, and stupidly he thought that it was the sweetest sound he'd ever
heard. Jackpot.
He twisted the door handle, and it swung open silently. The room was
dark,
and it took a minute for his eyes to adjust. The light in the hall was a
sliver of gold, and he used it as the path, eyes following it. It
stopped on
the bed. On her bed. And he saw a different kind of gold. Flesh.
Unconsciously, he took a step forward, following that lighted path. His
eyes
moved over her skin. It was cooler in here, from the fan, but still very
hot. He guessed that's why she locked the door; so that she could sleep
in
the nude. So sweet and modest. His poor little daughter. If she'd known
that
her Daddy was lusting after her cunt, she would have known that
something as
insubstantial as a locked door would never keep him away. She never had
known, though. She'd never even suspected. Ahh, innocent youth.
The sheets were in a rumpled ball at the foot of the bed. She was on her
side, facing him, and naked. He drank in the sight of his little
daughter's
fresh young body. He could see the round of her tits, and the little
purple
tips. He could see her sweet thighs, and the triangle of dark fleece
between
them. His cock was so wet in his pants, sticky pre-cum dripping in milky
streams down his thighs. He was so horny, so hot for his little girl
that it
almost hurt. He took a slug of whiskey, and squeezed his erection through
his trousers hard. He groaned. He took another sip, staring at her,
feasting
his eyes on her fragile, vulnerable nakedness.
He knew that he couldn't turn away. It was too perfect. She was too
perfect.
He'd finally gotten to see her sweet, sweet nude body. He couldn't
resist..
He thought about so many days where she'd sat on his lap innocently, that
soft butt rubbing into his throbbing cock. So many days where she'd wear
those tiny bikinis, the material thin and wet and plastered to her body.
Sometimes he'd even imagined that he could see soft pubic hair peeking
out
of shorts or bikini bottoms. It had been too long since he'd gotten laid.
Too long that he'd fantasized about this, about her. He was too drunk,
and
too angry, and too frustrated. Too fucking horny. He knew he was going to
rape her. His baby.
He couldn't say that it was temporary insanity, because he'd never felt
saner in his life. His temples were throbbing, and his mind was clear and
empty. The whole world was reduced to his sticky prick. It was like a
relief, realizing the crime he was about to commit. It was so nasty and
dirty, raping his own daughter, but it felt good because he was finally
going to do it, finally, after wanting it so bad for so long. He squeezed
his cock again, and then slowly closed the door behind him. He locked it,
just like she had. She'd wanted to keep him out tonight, wanted to keep
her
Daddy away while she slept with her pretty body all revealed, but he made
sure it didn't work. The door was locked, but the wolf was in.
He stood there a minute until he could see more clearly in the moonlight,
until he could make out her sweet form again. Then he set his glass on
her
dresser, the ice cubes clinking. She stirred a little from the sound,
rolling onto her stomach. He walked over to the foot of the bed and
looked
down at her. Perfect. His sweet little slut had gotten into just the
right
position for her Daddy to fuck her. Her fall of silky ink black hair was
swept off her skin just a bit, revealing the frail, delicate curve of her
neck. His eyes traced her slender limbs down to her gently tapering
waist,
and reached the globes of her soft round asscheeks. They were slightly
parted, so gold and sweet. Below that were her smooth, spread open
thighs..
He could just make out her full bush between them. His legs trembled. He
unbuckled his belt, and unbuttoned his trousers. The zipper came down
next,
loud in the soft silence of the room. He pulled out his leaking,
rock-hard
penis and rubbed the tip a little with his fingers, making his whole body
shiver. Then he smiled, and took his hand away. No, not tonight. Tonight
he
wouldn't be coming in his hand. He left his cock obscenely poking out
from
in between his pants, though. He liked it like that, hanging in front of
him, leering at his little girl.
Gently, he lowered his weight onto the bed. She stirred just a bit, and
he
paused. He wanted to take her by surprise. When she was still again, he
straddled her, his hard thighs on either side of her soft ones. His belt
brushed her ass and she woke up with a start. She was groggy, but very
quickly realized danger. She started to shout out immediately, but he was
ready, and shoved her face hard into her pillow, hitting the back of her
head with a harsh slap, as well. She was stunned, but still fought, body
wriggling, arms flailing. He liked it. He felt her warm naked body
wiggling
underneath him, and he loved it. He wondered dimly whether she felt gobs
of
pre-cum drip on to the crack of her ass. But if she kept fighting, he'd
never get to shoot his baby-making seed deep inside her little snatch.
So he
slid his right hand underneath that pretty slender throat, and squeezed
hard, fingers curling in, digging into her windpipe. Her cries shut off
abruptly, but the flailing didn't. He held his hand there and slapped
hard
at her arms. She got the picture, and her moving slowly stopped. In
response
he took his hand from her throat, simply pushing her head back into the
pillow. He thrilled at her so scared and trembling and beaten in his
arms.
He shifted his weight backwards, so that he had access to her cunt. She
tried to close her thighs but he whacked the backs of them so hard that
she
stopped, frightened and bruised. He reached his hand between her thighs
and
slid his fingers into that hot, full, hairy bush. Ohhh. He liked it when
they didn't trim. His little girl. She was just asking to be raped.
She was making noises, moaning into the pillow, crying. He liked them. He
liked them so much. He knew they were for him, that this pain was for
him..
So he drove two fingers deep into her twat. She screamed, and her body
was
shaking. Her cunt was so hot and dry and sticky. He felt the ring of it
so
tight around his fingers, and realized she was a virgin. His heart
swelled.
His sweet little girl. She was waiting for her Daddy to rip open her
little
pussy. Ohh yes and he would.
He started to fuck into her, slowly, savoring it. She was HIS. HIS little
girl. HIS slut. He would make her his property. He would own her and
possess
her. He knew that for the rest of her life every creak in the house would
make her think of this night. It made his dick throb.
He wanted her to want it. He wanted to know what it felt like when her
snatch was hot and bothered. So he brought his thumb up to her little
hidden
clitty, and started to rub. Her hips jerked, shocked. Those tan thighs
instinctively tried to clamp shut again, but his big hand was cupping her
mound, firmly invading her little snatch. He slapped her ass so hard
that he
left a perfect hand-shaped white spot on her golden cheek. And then he
slapped it again. Three times. Four. He liked the sound his hand made as
it
beat her flesh. He'd never done that before to his little girl. He'd
never
been able to make himself punish her. She wasn't just his little girl
now,
though. She was his little whore, and he relished the dull wave of pain
that
he knew coursed through her body.
He knew that she was scared, so scared. She tried to keep still, but
couldn't. Her body trembled, the muscles in those sweet arms and back
hard
and tense. He didn't hit her again, warning her to stop even this small
movement. He enjoyed feeling that slight warm vibration beneath him. He
enjoyed her humiliation, as they both felt her start to get damp. Her
small
body betrayed her, as he knew it would. Such an innocent, inexperienced
little pussy was no match for its Daddy. He knew just how to make her
body
do exactly what he wanted it to. Her shoulders were shaking, and there
was
an animal sound coming from deep within her throat. Pure anguish, so
deep it
could not be put into words. Clitty poked out from under its little hood,
shivered gently underneath his rough thumb. Her fuck tunnel was getting
wet
now, making it easy for his fingers to slide into her, in and out, in and
out. Her breathing was labored, harsh pants into her saliva-damp pillow.
He
felt her body tense; her thighs were locking around his hand. She was
close,
so close... She was crying softly. He knew he was working her body,
making
it truly his, making it want her Daddy's thick cock. So close... He drew
his
fingers up, digging into her g-spot, making her shake for him. And
then...
He slammed his cock into her all the way to the balls. She screamed out
so
loud that it always seemed like he didn't have her head shoved into her
pillow. Oh yes it felt so good he felt her warm virgin blood on the tip
of
his dick and he started slamming in hard again and again. He loved to
rape
his little girl, his little whore, she was his bitch now, HIS. Yes he was
going to do it every night, every night he was going to bury his big,
thick
cock in her sweet tight tiny little pussy, fill her up with his hot fuck,
his jizz, his sticky baby-making seed. He was pounding into her, really
slamming her, reaming her out, driving into those soft bruised walls
again
and again. He was using her, his sweet, innocent daughter, using his
little
girl like a common whore, making her his cum dumpster. He let go of the
back
of her head so that he could grip her hips and help shove her down on his
cock as he plunged up into her, and immediately she raised her head and
started shouting, "Daddy! Daddy! Help!" So trusting still. She was
getting
raped, she was hurting so bad, but she still had faith that her Daddy
would
barge in and save the day, save his baby.
He let her go on for a minute, and then he leaned down so his head was
against hers, and he licked her warm, soft neck lovingly, and said, "Yes,
baby?"
She froze, and he could almost see the wheels turning, the absolute
horror
filling her every pore. Her entire body tensed, muscles clenching. He
felt
it building so quick, so close, so close, and groaned, forehead beading
with
sweat, trying to hold off just a little longer. He kept fucking, kept
punching into her, kept pushing his cock into his daughter's torn pussy.
A
low moan escaped her quivering lips, and her butt and cunt muscles
tightened
in one sharp spasm. It was like a fist, gripping him, and he knew it was
all
over then. He went completely still, body as unyielding and tense as
hers,
and he grabbed her hips and held her still and that's when he let loose
and
his cock started spraying hot jizz into her tight wounded little snatch
again and again and again, shoot after shoot, his wad filling her.
Finally, his hips stopped rocking, and he lay replete, his softening
dick in
her cum-filled cunny.
She was deathly still, frozen in place, crystal tears running down her
soft,
sweet face, and he sucked her earlobe into his mouth and whispered, "I
love
you, baby. Won't this be nice to do every night?"