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o                                                                   o
o  The Bookshelf Directories offer a very wide variety of stories.  o
o  They have been submitted by people from all over the world. Also o
o  from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no particular order  o
o  other than offering them to you in alphabetical directories.     o
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o and should not be read by minors.                                 o
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A Girl And Her Dadda
by Dadda (daddastories@excite.com)

***

This story was written for my wife. It is an alternative history, 
her story of how she came to be her Dadda's cum-toy - a role she 
is very proud to fulfill for me today. (MMg, ped, inc, drugs)

***

When we met my wife had never found anyone to Love her the way she 
needed to be Loved nor found anyone to use her the way she needed 
to be used. Most if not all of the things described in this story 
actually happened.

But it was not her "Dadda" but maternal Grandfather that taught 
her, made her into what she now accepts herself to be. he used her 
from infancy until well into her teens (though at times since, the 
addiction to being a cumbaby drove her back into his bed)

So in marrying Michelle, I became her husband, her partner, her 
friend and her Dadda. She is my baby now in every sense of the 
word. The pleasures we have shared, the ways I have enjoyed using 
her, showing her off to... appreciative groups, has imprinted her 
with memories of being trained as Dadda's fucktot. In a euphoric 
haze I now remind her, relive with her the carnal acts that made 
her into a cum addicted childwhore and subtly, over time she has 
come to substitute these memories for the real ones that lay 
buried for so long.

I have made a vocal recording of this story, complete with sound 
effects, a full production worthy of the BBC *S*. After inducing a 
state of deep relaxation (using a "mickey finn" or drugged 
draught, not unlike those used to make her compliant and amnesic 
when she was a child) I sometimes play this for her through 
headphones while she lays naked, blindfolded and I touch, 
manipulate, rub and fuck her body to simulate the actions as they 
occur in the story. Her visceral response to this reprogramming is 
quite breathtaking.

So now, for your enjoyment... and comment, is the retrospectively 
rewritten history of "A girl and her Dadda".

***

Perhaps it was my wife who kept me in check until she died, or 
perhaps the unprecedented access to my daughter at an age when she 
had no faculty, no vocabulary to question the 'rightness' of what 
Dadda was doing with her triggered some latent urges, but I guess 
I'll never know?

I had never imagined myself a 'childlover' and had not been 
aroused by the thought of sexual activity with children per se. 
However, from my earliest memories there were times when my 
curiosity was piqued and I had opportunistically explored the 
sexual responsiveness of children.

For example, I could recall being left in the bath when I was no 
more than 8, with a girl of 4 or 5. Her mother had told us she was 
just going downstairs to see Mrs. Johannes in No. 14 and would be 
back within half an hour. It seemed perfectly reasonable then and 
we both looked forward to it (in hindsight, it seems incredibly 
negligent to leave such children in a bath unsupervised, though 
not for the reasons I will now set out.)

Tracey (I can still recall her name after so many years) would ask 
if I we could play "Bubbles", to which I would enthusiastically 
agree. Bubbles was actually two games, one I played on her and one 
she played on me. First was her turn and she would hunker down in 
the bath and I would blow bubbles into her tiny vagina. I can 
still remember her shrill giggles as the water burbled over her 
vulva, can still feel the tight upward arch of her babybutt as I 
held her groin level with the water and bent my face over her. 

As I bubbled and blew, sucked and slurped, Tracey would press her 
cunnie hard against my face, positioning herself so that my chin 
would press against her vulva and my mouth was clamped over her 
clitty. I can still feel the clenching and unclenching of her 
buttocks as she rubbed herself off on my mouth and her sweet child 
taste became pungent with arousal.

Then it was my turn. What had started as her cupping my soft penis 
in the water and chasing it around her palm with blasts of bubbles 
had gradually became a rudimentary (but deliciously effective) 
form of felatio. 

Through encouragement and coaching, I had taught Tracey to instead 
take my boy penis straight into her mouth and gently suck at the 
knob of it. Once she'd mastered this, it was merely a matter of 
holding her little head and either coaxing her lips up and down 
the shaft or (when she gained confidence) holding her head still 
while I kneeled up and fucked her pretty face.

My experimentations with Tracey continued till she reached puberty 
and she began to attract the attentions of other boys. Once her by 
then considerable talent and skill was recognized, she became a 
very sought after date and by my sixteenth birthday I had lost 
contact with her altogether.

My own sexual history after that was quite conventional and I 
dismissed my earlier appetites with the notion that we were both 
kids and after all, kids will always experiment sexually given 
half a chance, it's in our genes to do so.

But I never forgot the indescribably sweet taste of a pre-
pubescent girl cunnie, a taste that was to come back and haunt me 
later in my life.

I do remember the early years after my darling wife and I were 
married were happy, and I was entirely sexually satisfied. I never 
entertained the idea of infidelity (and obviously there were 
opportunities) and would have told anyone that I had a great love 
life.

But after the birth of our daughter feelings began to re-emerge 
that were not entirely fatherly. When Michelle was on my lap, or 
when I bathed her, I lingered over how smooth her skin was, how 
innocent she was, and how I wanted to hug her and kiss her.

Oh, it was all innocent then, even as a baby I enjoyed changing 
her and even though I told myself it was all part of my "S.N.A.G" 
persona, a partner in parenting and all that, it began to dawn on 
me that it was the intimacy with Michelle I craved, the chance to 
have her unwrapped and on display, the chance to see her and 
remember, and imagine.

When cleaning her up on the change table, I would clean her little 
bottom (always being careful to wipe from front to back like the 
childcare nurse had shown us) and then lavished her tender groin 
with Johnson's baby lotion, gently massaging it into ever nook and 
cranny. I got enormous satisfaction from seeing her little legs 
kick excitedly when I began to take a nappy off and I told myself 
it was because she liked what her Dadda was doing and couldn't 
wait for him to do tickle/playing while he was changing her.

Sometimes, when minding her after my wife went back to work, I 
would lay her on our bed and do baby massage like the trendy books 
all said to ("help you child get in touch with their own tactile 
potential, babys and children respond to massage exactly like 
adults, don't deprive them or yourself of this valuable bonding 
experience" *S*). 

Michelle would lay and kick her legs contentedly and would start 
this sweet high pitched sighing as my fingers traced an ever 
expanding circle, centered on her belly button in ever widening 
arcs. As my fingers brushed her tiny mosquito bite nipples she 
would stop kicking for a moment and I found that if I made small 
circles around and around her baby nipples that she would lay 
there perfectly still almost indefinitely.

Curiosity led me to later experiment with the effect of lingering 
touch in her fragile little vulva and I eventually learned that 
she would gladly let me hold her little feet high in the air and 
gurgle contentedly, so long as my fingers traced lazy circles over 
her labia, clitty and occasionally tickled her puckered little 
anus. Another favorite "Dadda daughter time" was in the bath. It 
seemed that this most often happened when my wife was at work. In 
the summer (no A/C in those days!) we would spend hours in the 
bath, playing in an attempt to keep cool.

Even as a toddler I can still remember laying her back against my 
chest as I slipped down lower into the bath. Michelle would lay 
her head back against my chest as I purposely let her body slide 
down my lathered body, till her bottom crack was resting against 
my swelling cock.

All it would take was some of those splashing kicks, her chubby 
little tot thighs rubbing up and down on either side of my 
thickening shaft and I would want to cum. Again, I told myself, 
she's a baby she won't remember any of this, its just a game to 
her and a fun one at that. And time and again, I would hold her 
there, lathering her body with a low irritant bath wash and 
letting her slip and slide all over my belly, all over my by now 
rampant erection. Michelle, while totally clueless about my 
reasons for enjoying those games so much, did learn (however 
imperceptibly) that holding her Dadda's (and later any man's) cock 
was a sure fire way to get and keep his intention.

***

One day, when she was barely two, she just reached out and took my 
cock in her tiny hand and started giggling. I was rock hard in an 
instant and I could do nothing but watch as she hefted it, 
squeezed it, then ultimately rubbed it, until it exploded in her 
hands. I did my best to maintain the mask of indifference (...no, 
no nothing to see here, just a 2 year old masturbating her 
Dadda...) and not draw her attention to the fact that there were 
now ropes of cum hanging off the tip of my penis, some of which 
were adhering to Michelle hands, hips and thighs.

Even my wife commented with approval on how close Michelle and I 
were. We were so close, but as I was later to learn, I had no idea 
then, just how important this little girl was going to become to 
me.

At 3 years of age, it was too soon for Michelle to lose her 
mother, and too soon for me to lose a wife.

A drunk driver took away my wife, my pride, and even for a time my 
will to live. If I didn't have Michelle, I wouldn't be here to 
write this. She became my whole world. I didn't work for nearly 
three years and we spent all our free time together, reading, 
playing, eating and sleeping. I suppose it was at this time of 
continuous and unprecedented access to my babygirl that my love 
began to grow, expand in definition, that she began to be more 
than someone I looked after, someone who's needs I met. With my 
wife gone and having no interest in other women, other needs began 
to assert themselves and ultimately I think this was my undoing.

Michelle was a sound sleeper. If she fell asleep in the living 
room, I could carry her into the bedroom without her even waking 
up. Almost as soon as my wife died, we began to sleep in the same 
bed. It was so large, and so lonely, that I couldn't see anything 
wrong if she wanted to sleep with me -- and she did. Maybe she was 
afraid I would go away too, but for whatever reasons, she began 
getting up out of her cot and toddling into my bed and crawling in 
beside me. Generally this was long after I had entered a deep 
sleep and so I barely registered her presence, spooned her to my 
belly and we both drifted off contentedly back to sleep.

Out of modesty, I wore pajamas with her even though I was more 
accustomed to sleeping in the altogether. Michelle's gowns were 
shear and, if one were speaking of an older woman, "revealing." Of 
course, Michelle had nothing too reveal, so seeing through her 
gown meant seeing a flat chest and straight hips. At times she 
would press herself back against me, as if trying to get as close 
as humanly possible and we would "snuggle" which was her name for 
when I put my arms right round her like some great bear and she 
would rock herself back and forth against me, to sleep comforted 
in my strong arms.

Sometimes when she would press her firm buttocks back against my 
groin, the rocking would mean that my neglected member would be 
rubbed and squeezed between her bottom and my own thighs. When 
that happened, it would sometimes respond, swelling to tumescence, 
but I would always will the inappropriate response away, with 
imagined pictures sure to deflate my ardour (think geriatric nuns, 
dead kittens, that sort of thing).

But try as I might, I could never eradicate the memories that 
resurfaced whenever this inadvertent stimulation occurred. I could 
not black out the thoughts of playing bubbles with Tracey as a 
child, or memories of my own baby child absently jerking her 
Dadda's cock in the bath, giving me a much needed outlet for the 
building tide of seed that began to grow in my scrotum.

***

One morning, I awoke with a start. I had been dreaming (I think) 
and not only was I cuddling Michelle, but my erect penis was 
sticking out of the fly of my pajamas and somehow it had nuzzled 
up between her soft thighs. In the twilight between sleep and 
wakefulness, I was humping my daughter!

For several minutes, I just lay there, wide awake, trying to make 
sense of what was happening. Michelle was still asleep and it was 
dark. I wanted relief so badly that for a moment I contemplated 
finishing. In fact, I had to struggle to avoid cumming. I slowly 
pulled my penis from between her thighs and lay on my back, hard 
as a rock.

I watched Michelle's slow breathing and was reassured that she was 
deeply asleep as I pulled my pajama bottoms down and masturbated 
and soon shot a wad of cum onto my abdomen. Just as the last drops 
were oozing out, Michelle rolled over and lay her arm across my 
lower abdomen right in the middle of the puddle of cum, brushing 
my still erect cock.

Before I could react, she pulled her arm back, rolled over onto 
her back, and rubbed her eyes and face with a hand that was 
covered with my cum. Fortunately, she did not get any cum into her 
eyes, but her face was now smeared with my cum. I waited until her 
breathing resumed its slow pace, all the while looking in wonder 
at my cum all over my little girls cheeks, lips and eyelids, as 
the ejaculate slowly dried to a powdery residue.

Well, that about did it for me. I couldn't stop thinking about 
that night over the coming days. I know that my thinking was worst 
kind of self serving justification, but I was thinking that if I 
got my rocks off, and she was none the wiser, then no harm done. I 
knew that this was the way that pedophiles since time began had 
validated their use and abuse of children AND I didn't care.

It was true at a pragmatic level, what I did to Michelle's 
sleeping body that did not disturb her sleep, cause her any 
physical harm and was not something she ever became conscious of, 
wouldn't cause her any harm now or in the future. In my hunger I 
never canvassed the moral minefield that I was clearly (with 
hindsight) traversing. But more significantly I had no idea of the 
long term effects I was about to initiate by beginning to 
stimulate Michelle sexually.

I was so sure that "what she don't know won't hurt her". What I 
now realise is that from the first, every time I traced a finger 
over her bulging little mons, inscribed serpentine spirals zeroing 
in on her reddening nipples or blew gently against the glistening 
membrane of her hymen I was forging and then reinforcing neural 
pathways, programming her with preferences and predilections, 
training and grooming her to become the eager and malleable sex-
girl that she ultimately became. Her Dadda was making a fucktoy 
out of Michelle and didn't even know it.

If I knew what I know now, would I have done any different? I 
guess I'll never have to answer that question, but I know with 
rock solid certainty that I could not love, want or need my 
babygirl more today. Within a week of that first tentative night 
my desire had coalesced into action. The thoughts of how naughty 
and wicked my little girl had looked with her Dadda's cum on her 
face meant that no sooner had she gone to sleep than I had a 
raging hard-on!

As she settled in I should have turned my back, rolled over in the 
opposite direction from my daughter or, at a minimum, I should 
have at least rolled over onto my back. I did neither, I remained 
on my side with my by now wobbling erection brushing against 
Michelle. Michelle lay on her back beside me. Even though it was 
completely innocent on her part, her bare thigh was next to me and 
my aroused cock was actually pushing against her, although I'm 
sure that she did not have any idea. I knew I should have turned 
away but, feeling the heat of her young body against me, I 
couldn't. 

As I lay in the semi-darkness, my mind became very conscious of my 
body pressing against the heat of my daughter. The awareness was 
forcing my cock to remain in its stiff state. I didn't want to 
pull away! Tying not to alert Michelle to what I was doing I 
inched my hips towards her as much as possible. My cock was 
actually twitching within my boxer shorts, pressed as it was 
against her hot leg yet apparently she wasn't aware. 

Still my cock was hard. I had never ever, even in my wildest 
dreams, given any thought of actually having sex with my daughter, 
but now I found that my aroused cock seemed to be without any 
conscience. I just wanted to cum. By this time, I was so far gone 
that I had to get some relief. My thoughts were scrambled. I 
couldn't get control over my sexual feelings. Almost 
instinctively, I moved my hips. After first pressing my body 
tightly against my daughter's thigh, I suddenly relaxed and then, 
ever so gently I pulled back, slightly away from her. My inflamed 
cock was throbbing. Throwing caution to the wind, I again moved 
letting my throbbing cock press into the child's thigh. 

After a few seconds of tortuous pleasure, I again moved back 
slightly. Thus began a steady gentle rhythm, away from and into 
Michelle's thigh. My pressure within my cock was building; I knew 
that this pushing no matter how gentle, was going to culminate in 
my shooting my load in my boxer shorts unless I stopped it now. My 
mind was now a mumbo jumbo of hotness. I had stopped thinking 
logically. I nervously moved my hand down to my shorts, releasing 
my throbbing prick through the slit, and bringing it out into the 
open. At this point, I was totally aroused. 

I pushed against her thigh again. I had to suppress a moan. I held 
my breath from the excitement as my raw cock touched the flesh of 
my daughter's hot thigh, just below her short pajama pants. 
Suddenly I wanted to do more. God forgive me but I wanted to touch 
her tiny immature breast, while I quietly and gently fucked her 
leg. I moved my hand in two stages; the second after my daughter 
did not react to the first: First, my arm went over her little 
body and under her tiny breastbuds while my hand rested down her 
other side, touching the mattress. Michelle did not move and was 
obviously in a contented sleep. 

I gently pulled my hand back up over my baby's body and while I 
continued to gently fuck against her leg, my fingers nervously 
rested down over her pajamas at the chest. Soon my open hand, on 
top of the pajamas, was actually resting on Michelle's budding 
tit. My cock was twitching wildly as I pushed its flesh against 
her thigh. I felt the end nearing. I began squeezing so softly on 
my young daughter's grape-sized tit. 

My mind was exploding with invisible blasts of light. I could feel 
the warmth of her minute breast within my hand. Then my cock began 
shooting - squirt after squirt - and I pressed my cock tightly 
against Michelle's leg as I was erupting. I suddenly felt her hand 
move on top of mine as I was squeezing her tit. It rested on mine. 
She wasn't making any attempt to struggle away. She was probably 
still asleep I thought. 

Then I finally finished releasing the last of my juices on her 
leg. I lay there trembling, every nerve in my body sparking, 
firing. Yet at the same time I felt a peace that I had not felt in 
all the long months since my wife died. As I dabbed at the cum on 
my daughter's plump little thighs with my now discarded boxers, I 
smiled in the dull glow at her angelic face, her undisturbed 
innocent countenance.

Michelle was sleeping like a baby. Dadda's baby. One night a few 
months later, at about three in the morning, I awoke with Michelle 
laying on her side with her back against my stomach and my 
engorged erection pressing through my boxers against the small of 
her back. I eased my penis over the waistband of my shorts, 
pressed it against the crease of her soft thighs and deliberately 
inserted my erect phallus between her soft smooth legs. 

She didn't even stir as I gently slid my cock with infinite care 
but gradually increasing vigor until I finally came, dripping in 
between her thighs. I made a mess of her gown, so I slipped it off 
of her, hoping she wouldn't get upset at waking with only her silk 
panties still on. She slept soundly through the entire episode.

"Dadda, where's top?" she asked when she finally awoke.

"Um, you sort of dribbled on it darling, so I took it off. I 
thought you might sleep better that way. Did you sleep ok?" I 
asked hoping she would buy the story.

She stretched her arms above her head and said, "Yep! sowwy I mess 
my top Dadda."

I looked at her long blond hair and her arms above her head, her 
chest bare and smooth, and I couldn't help but put my arm around 
her and kiss her on the cheek. "It's ok darling. Nothing to worry 
about, Dadda doesn't mind."

Nudity was not a novelty. We -- my wife and I -- had never hidden 
our bodies from Michelle. Even now I always bathed Michelle and 
dried her off, so it was no surprise when she ran from the 
bathroom into the bedroom and jumped in the bed naked the next 
night.

"Aren't you going to put on your gown?" I asked.

"It dirty," she replied.

"Only the top. Do you want your bottoms?"

"Nope," she replied.

Her innocent reply made me realise that she was completely 
ignorant of what had been transpiring, completely clueless about 
how I was using her delicious little body. I was using her as a 
sex toy, a cumbaby and she as none the wiser. In that moment I was 
emboldened and knew that I had to take this further, had to find a 
way to have her soft yielding body for my own.

Over the coming year I became obsessed with the secret taboo 
pleasure of using my precious little girl as my cumtot, employing 
her tender thighs as a surrogate cunny, gently simulating the 
pillaging of her virgin hole with the silky pressure of her 
pressed thighs replicating the unimaginable pleasure of fucking 
her child vagina.

I thought of how sweet it would be to stimulate her bald vulva, 
tickle her tiny clitnub until her tunnel was lubricated and ready 
to take my ravenous cock. That gave me an idea and that very night 
I took some sorbolene cream, the type that soaks into the skin so 
as not to leave a residue and used it to make my make-believe 
cunny more realistic.

As Michelle lay on her back, I gently parted her thighs until I 
could look into the crease between her buttocks and see her girl 
slit open before me. Then I gently massaged the cream over her 4 
years olds vulva, letting my fingers linger over the sensitive red 
inner lips and pressing them to tickle the thin membrane of her 
maidenhead, before slopping copious amounts between her thighs. 
Then I turned her over onto her side and once again insinuated my 
penis into the little cleft formed by the conjunction of her legs, 
thighs and bottom cheeks.

The cock drove into the mucous channel, the head splaying her 
inner lips so that the upper surface of the shaft raked her 
orifice and rubbed her clitty, coming to rest against her puffy 
mons. Taking her narrow hips in each hand, I began to fuck the 
lubricated channel, thrusting and rutting until I again exploded 
between her legs, showering the fronts of her thighs with my warm 
spunk.

I rolled my blissfully sleeping babe onto her back and scooped 
dollops of my jism with my fingers and used it to paint her little 
titties, making creamy loops around each nipple. The last scoop, I 
cupped into my palm and dipped a finger in and used it to anoint 
her ruby lips, making my darling's lips glisten in the candle 
light that I used to illuminate my abuse of her innocence.

I knew that I had gone past the point of no return this time, I 
knew with a certainty that my need for her would never subside, 
only escalate to an inescapable conclusion.

***

A year Later

My desire for my infant daughter became the central truth of my 
life. The urge to fulfill my lust inside her petite body was 
constantly with me and I spent my days in a haze of lust, always 
thinking of new and exciting ways to enjoy her, without breaking 
the bond of trust that was her only security, her only 
consolation.

I never did anything that woke her, yet I found the need for 
stealth and restraint infuriating, I longed to be able to enjoy 
her more lustily, more vigorously. Ultimately I knew that I wanted 
impale my babygirl on my cockmeat, that I would never be satisfied 
until I raped her tiny tight childhole.

I realised of course that her tiny internal organs were not yet 
developed to the point where I could safely sate my lust in her, I 
knew that my penis would rend her little vagina asunder. I knew 
that if I gave my cunnie-lust its head, it would damage her 
irretrievably and that was something that my love for her would 
never allow.

Never the less, when I humped her little furrow, slid my cock 
through the tube of her squished thighs and bald labia, it took 
every ounce of self control to hold myself from driving my hungry 
cockhead home into her belly till my testicles hilted themselves 
on her tight little arse.

I had to find a way to allow my to satisfy my lust more fully, to 
be able to enjoy her more completely, to fuck her cunnie cleft 
harder, without waking her...but how?

I was reading a newspaper report of the latest spate of teenagers 
at "schoolies' week, falling victim to drink spiking, waking up in 
a bedroom at a party, in a park or on a beach, their panties, 
skirt or jeans missing and their vaginas covered in cum, 
completely clueless as to how they got there, when the answer came 
to me.

I made Michelle a special nighttime treat, a drink "to help her 
sleep better". I made up a mickey-fin for her from warm milk with 
a tot of rum, a little vanilla and a dash of cinnamon and the 
final touch, one ground down Stilnox sleeping tablet, vile to the 
taste but completely camouflaged by the potent mix!

As we sat watching TV together, I eyed her hungrily as she sipped 
at the narcotic draught, looking for signs that it was taking 
effect. As the pace of her imbibing (and conversation) slowed, I 
encouraged her ("That's right dear, drink it all up for Dadda... 
You'll sleep like a baby tonight"*S*) and made sure to swirl the 
last dregs of the mixture and pour it into her mouth so that she 
would be effectively drugged.

Laying her sweet head back against my chest, she sunk into me as 
her body slowly slumped like a rag doll, She propped in my lap, 
trying to stay awake, but all the while I could feel the heat of 
her cunny through the sheer material of her pants as her little 
bottom pushed against my groin.

When she no longer responded to my voice, I began to tap her hand, 
then squeeze her arm and finally shake her quite vigorously, but 
she was completely unresponsive. Her breathing was slow, deep and 
regular and I realised that she was heavily sedated and would not 
wake under any circumstances, for many, many hours.

I picked her limp little body up and carried her up to my bed, her 
head and legs falling akimbo over my arms and placed her gently on 
the sheets, arms and legs splayed in a pose of comatose 
indifference. I lifted her little nightdress up and over her head 
and pulled down her panties to reveal the puffy swell of her 
cunny, the smooth contours of her belly and two pert pink nipples. 
I then arranged her petite form into a lewd but pleasing pose, 
arms up over her head so that her chest was exposed, her nipples 
laid bare for the sucking and her ankles pulled wide apart, knees 
bent so that my broad hips could lay between her thighs.

For the third night in a row, I held her body, now completely 
naked, against my now bare skin. If the sexual urges were strong 
before, they were unavoidable now. I slipped my stiff cock up 
between the folds of her labia, guided by the contours of her 
prepubescent vulva as her cunnie lips rubbed against my cock. Oh, 
the exquisite sensation! Even though there was no penetration, I 
felt like I was really fucking her. 

I rubbed the erect shaft of my cock between her downy folds as I 
watched her lifeless body pushed back and forwards upon the bed. I 
used her little hole like a little fuck channel, my penis parting 
and rubbing up and down the groove of her vulva, but resisted the 
excruciating urge to plunge it deep into her cum tunnel.

I rubbed faster and furiously until bucking my hips and forcing 
her head up against the pillow, I came drenching her 5 year old 
hole, and then I held her like that for several minutes until my 
erection returned, and then I did it again. I was insatiable!

I enjoyed my comatose cumbaby like that relentlessly, every night 
for the next 6 months. Then one night after I had once again 
drugged my cum tot with the special Mickey-fin that she seemed to 
like so much, something happened that again escalated the never 
ending spiral of debauchery and incest with my daughter. After she 
feel asleep on my lap and was fast asleep, I carried her into the 
bedroom and undressed her. 

She was dead to the world, so I took a few liberties. I spread her 
legs and looked closely at her hairless vagina lips; parting them 
gently with my fingers I watched her face for any signs of arousal 
as I moved my face close to her cunnie, sniffed at her sweet girls 
scent, tongued her creased little anus and licked between the soft 
smooth lips.

Then I lifted her legs and held them up while I put my cock 
between her thighs and I started to move back and forth. The 
lubrication of my saliva made the feeling like fucking a moist 
vagina and I soon needed to cum. Rather than splattering her body 
with cum, I decided to cum into her vagina. That is, I wanted the 
cum to go into the cunnie hole. 

I placed the head of my cock at the opening of her vagina, and her 
cunnie lips separated to almost enclose the head entirely. I let 
her legs fall apart gently and began to stroke my cock. Soon, I 
began to squirt, and squirt, and squirt, all into her tiny hole. 
Towards the end of my orgasm, her baby cunnie was so full of cum 
that some of it seeped past the plug of my bulbous cockhead and 
overflowed to dribble onto the top of my shaft. 

When I pulled my cock away, my semen poured out of her child-
vagina in a rivulet that ran between her butt cheeks and onto the 
bed. I left her like that, oozing still more cum. I rolled over 
holding her close and fell into a deep sleep entwined like that 
with my cum baby.

When I came to, Michelle was awake! She appeared sleepy, but had a 
quizzical expression on her face.

"What's this stuff?" she asked. I looked closer and I saw her with 
her hand covered with slimy cum that she had pulled from between 
her legs.

I started to wipe her hand with a towel as I explained, "You had 
sort of an accident. It happens to girls sometimes when they are 
asleep." I moved the towel to her lower abdomen and between her 
legs as I continued to wipe my semen from her cunnie and the bed. 
My precious little Michelle began to cry. "I'm sorry, Dadda. I 
didn't...mean...to..." she sobbed.

"Oh, honey! It's ok! I promise! It's all perfectly natural, and it 
doesn't bother me at all," I said as reassuringly as possible and 
cradled her head against my bare chest.

"Oh no, Dadda, I even got some on you!"

I followed her eyes and they were aimed directly at my cum covered 
cock. "Shit!" I thought. "How stupid can I be?" I wiped myself off 
and said, "Don't worry honey. It's perfectly harmless and I don't 
mind a bit. Now let's go to sleep."

I kissed the tears from her eyes and wiped the moisture with the 
towel (until I remembered what the towel had been used for) and 
then using a handkerchief. I turned out the lights and got into 
bed. I noticed that Michelle was sleeping further away than she 
ever had and I began to be concerned that I had blown my cover.

"Is something wrong, honey?" I asked, hoping to literally keep her 
in the dark.

"I made a mess. I'm afraid it might happen again," she replied. I 
could tell she was telling the truth, so I moved closer to her.

"Honey, it's ok. To tell you the truth, it makes me happy. My 
little girl is growing up, that's all it means. Now give Dadda a 
hug and let's go to sleep.

***

One year later

My nocturnal abuse of my girl child continued unabated. I 
experimented with different drugs (rohypnol, mogadon and valium) 
and drinks (kahlua and baileys milkshakes!) until I could bring on 
a state of semi paralysis, where my little fuckdoll was physically 
immobilised, unconscious but slightly responsive and best of all 
she woke up with absolutely no memory of the antics of the night 
before. I found that some of the more sophisticated narcotics 
could leave her almost conscious, able to moan, gurgle and make 
little cooing sounds, even giggling on the odd occasion, all of 
which only served to ignite my incendiary lust for my darling 
daughter.

One night quite late, as I lay with her next to me, I yielded to 
the temptation to use her little hole for cum-rubbing once more. 
My erect cock began to press relentlessly against her buttocks 
until I pushed it between her thighs. I lay like that for a 
moment, but then the urge to hump overwhelmed me and I slowly 
moved back and forth, sliding in and out of the wet tunnel formed 
by her vulva, the excretions of her vagina and the firm pressure 
of her plump little thighs.

Then, I noticed the most remarkable thing. I felt the unmistakable 
movement of her body against my thrusts. She was humping my cock! 
I thought maybe she was dreaming, or moving reflexively, so I 
slowed up a bit, but her thrusts matched mine perfectly. Then, 
with my cock sticking between her legs and poking out the other 
side, I felt her hand close around the shaft of my cock. She was 
holding the cock meat up hard against her vulva and begin to slide 
back and forth on it and in the process she was jacking me off.

She didn't say a word, but when I stopped moving, her thrusts and 
strokes took over. I raised up slightly and my impression was 
confirmed. In the dim light, I could see her hand around my cock 
and her hips were moving back and forth rhythmically. My 
sweetheart was smiling and making little mewling noises, 
luxuriating in the autoerotic stimulation of her genitals.

The realisation that she was an active participant in this 
activity was a shock. At the tender age of seven, Michelle had 
become my cum addicted little child-slut, unconsciously responding 
to the hungers that her prepubescent body had been taught to 
crave. I wrapped my arm around her, held her close to me, and 
continued my humping until finally I came in gushes, covering her 
hands, thighs and mons with her Dadda's sticky goo.

I pulled my softening dick out from between her thighs and lay on 
my back for a moment as I tried to think. I felt her turn towards 
me and snuggle, so I put my arm around her and drifted off to 
sleep.

The realisation that my little girl was responding, needing, 
hungering for my cock as badly as I wanted her tiny girl hole 
plagued me. I wanted to make her want me, I wanted to teach her 
cunny how good it could feel until she begged me to fuck her. I 
was looking in my wife's (former *pout*) bedside table for a pen 
one day, when I saw the object that was to enable the completion 
of the transformation of my daughter Michelle into my fucktoy.

It's ironic really that my late wife was indirectly responsible 
for making it possible for me to rape her beloved daughter and in 
so doing, make Michelle my lover forever. In the corner of the 
drawer, under nylons and panties (I could never bring myself to 
clear out these intimate memories of her), there was the shiny 
gold phallic vibrator that I had brought home as a treat for her 
from a business trip, and the fresh packet of AA batteries that 
she had always kept on hand "just in case".

That night I increased the dose of the drug (quite recklessly in 
hindsight) and waited till she succumbed to sleep. Then I arranged 
her on the bed naked, spread-eagled, and started toying with her 
sex with the dildo. Little by little I eased it around her vulva, 
up and over her cunny as her little bottom began to squirm, 
pushing her labia up to part on the hard metal shell.

I ran it down the length of her sex slit and reamed it over her 
puckered little anus, then traced the hairless line of her groin 
up until driving it once again pressing hard against her clitty. I 
repeated this over and over, as she lolled her head from side to 
side and her baby juice flowed profusely down her thighs and 
soaked through the sheets, making a wet circle under her bottom.

***

Over the next year I made her sigh, rut and whimper, but denied 
her the release she craved. Each time, I slid the plastic cock 
against her cum hole, I pressed it home further, slowly with more 
force, gradually stretching the labia and hymen that stood between 
my swelling balls and her beckoning empty belly. I wanted to fuck 
my daughter so much that it took a supreme act of will not to rape 
her tiny fuck-tube right now, where she lay.

When my darling fucktoy was drugged she was completely pliant and 
compliant and I delighted in arranging her body in any number of 
wicked positions and lewd poses. I also bought some clothing that 
I found extremely arousing and would dress her appropriately (in a 
way most would describe as most inappropriate *S*). One of my 
favorites was a white babydoll nightdress with lacy suspenders and 
stockings.

It was extremely hard to find something to fit her and I ended up 
having to have a size 8 altered (telling the seamstress it was for 
a role in a youth production of "Bugsy Malone" my daughter was 
starring in). Once I had dressed her up as a child whore (inspired 
by memories of the movie "Pretty Baby" that portrayed the 
prepubescent courtesans of turn of the century New Orleans) I 
delighted in making her face up in the precocious style beloved of 
Lolita aficionados everywhere. With her silk sheathed legs splayed 
and her hairless cunny glistening, my lingerie model daughter 
looked a treat with darkened eyelashes, rouged cheeks and even 
redder lips.

Another way I used my little cumtot was by making her mouth a cum 
receptacle and taking delight in watching her swallow her own 
Dadda's semen. I had always remembered how arousing it had been 
that first time Michelle had inadvertently rested her hand in a 
great gob of my cum and then wiped it on her face in her sleep. 
Seeing her now unfurled like this, sleeping and completely 
vulnerable to me, only increased my desire to see Michelle more 
overtly lewd and sexual.

So I took to grabbing my cock from between her legs at the point 
of climax, squeezing the head to constrict my urethra, I trapped 
the viscous laid of cum under pressure and then released the milky 
goo in jetting spurts to arc over her tummy, then breasts and 
finally her precious, innocent (painted harlot) face.

One day when I was doing this, rubbing the circumcised head of my 
cock back and forth above Michelle's face, she turned and sort of 
snorted (it was quite funny *lol*) then her mouth opened and she 
continued sleeping undisturbed. Right at that moment I began to 
squirt and I didn't have to think about it, I just pressed the 
head down between her lips and emptied the sticky glue like mass 
into Michelle's mouth.

I watched in amazement as her tongue arose out of the cloudy clag 
and began to swirl it round her mouth and I lost it completely 
when she gulped it down. I kissed my baby immediately and tasted 
the cum, her Dadda's own cum all over her lips and tongue. After 
that I was hooked. As the dosage of Michelle's mickey fins 
increased, so did my boldness. I would eagerly jerk myself while 
kneeling over Michelle then press my dick into her mouth when 
orgasm approached and then hump her mouth by pulling her head up 
to meet the marauding meat and fucking her sleeping face till I 
squirted.

I resisted my most rapacious urges and persisted stretching her 
girl-cunnie regularly until, one day shortly after her 8th 
birthday, with a satisfying slurp the dildo slid fully into her 
virgin baby vagina and I knew she was ready for her Dadda's cock. 
I bent down and kissed my darlings drugged parted lips as I 
absently twisted the vibrating shaft sticking out of her hairless 
vagina obscenely.

I slowly removed the cone shaped dildo and proceeded to put it 
into her mouth and watched her suckle reflexively at it. I then 
replaced it at the opening of her vagina which, despite the recent 
presence of the dildo, looked too small to accommodate the 
enormous device. I watched in amazement as her cunny stretched 
easily to accommodate the dildo in one stroke, before I started 
moving it in and out slowly. The tender skin of her vulva moved 
slightly in and out with the movement of the dildo and I could 
here a slight sucking sound as the vacuum formed around her 
airtight orifice.

I got onto the bed slowly and lay down on my stomach with my head 
between her legs for a better look at this phenomenon. There was 
no bleeding. Her hairless cunnie-lips were stretched around the 
dildo like elastic bands, but the dildo seemed to slide in and out 
effortlessly. Her clitoris was clearly visible at the top and was 
somewhat engorged, so I couldn't resist taking it between my lips 
and giving it a little suck. I put my hand on her lower abdomen 
and I could feel the movement of the dildo inside her belly.

I pressed it harder into her hole, pressing the tip of the cocktoy 
against the pouting neck of her cervix, threatening to stretch 
open her girl womb. In response as if to say "yes Dadda, I am your 
little cock whore, cum rape my baby vagina now!" Michelle started 
moving her hips, tilting them up and down as I inserted and 
removed the dildo. The effect was erotic beyond belief.

I had seen enough. I was more than convinced that my phallus could 
fit and was desperately anxious to "try it out." I removed the 
dildo and set it down at her side leaving her legs spread 
invitingly and I sat up and tore my clothes off.

When I moved over her, her arms were still extended, legs spread, 
and the warmth of her skin was like an electric shock. 
Unfortunately, she was only about 4 feet tall, so my cock would 
not reach her cunnie while my face was even with hers, even so I 
gazed at the unmistakable smile behind her floaty, unfocused 
closed eyes. My little girl was enjoying what her Dadda was doing 
to her!

I suspended myself above her and placed the head of my cock at the 
entrance to her virginal hole and started to push. There was a 
slight pop as my cock head passed the opening of her 8 year old 
vagina and then pure heaven.

I hadn't had intercourse with a woman since my wife passed away, 
so I had almost forgotten the warmth, the smooth friction, the 
feeling of enclosure. I remained motionless for a moment, but I 
couldn't resist the urge to move. I slowly began fucking my 
daughter, and her movements reciprocated my own. I looked down and 
saw that her head was being pushed from side to side as my dick 
fucked in and out of her cunnie.

After waiting so long, I was finally having my daughter, using her 
body for what it was designed for, I was captivated by this 
gorgeous, glorious slut-baby that I had made. I might have enjoyed 
the raping for longer had not at that moment a sigh that drew out 
agonizingly into a moan of lust, cum forth from her lips. As a 
deep and almost guttural groan vibrated through her prone form, 
suddenly in her delirium, she mouthed then sounded out the word 
that pushed me over the edge. "...Daaaaaddaaaa!"

I looked down at the length of my meat disappearing into her 
child-sex and not a moment after I started to cum, and cum and 
cum. I looked down at my cock and my semen was oozing out from 
around my penis with each thrust. I was cumming into my own 
daughter. The idea was erotic, illicit, and I knew that it would 
not be the last time.

***

Two Years Later

It was about 5:10 a.m., when we pulled out of the driveway, it was 
still dark outside. We drove in silence for about five minutes as 
we headed up the coast on another business trip. My life had 
slowly returned to something approaching normalcy, as the years 
past after my wife's untimely demise. My career once again began 
to be something about which I cared and success meant that 
Michelle and I enjoyed a good quality of life. I sometimes had to 
travel on business and tried wherever possible to arrange it for 
times like this when, due to the school being on holidays I could 
take Michelle along. 

It was very important to me that she knew that she was still 
number one in my life, still my reason for living. This trip would 
take us almost the full length of the East Coast, meeting clients 
every few days, but lots of time for sightseeing and time just 
being together, a girl and her Dadda. Michelle had grown into a 
fine young girl, just completing primary school and at 10 already 
so statuesque and poised. I always took her into my clients 
offices when I went for meetings, introduced her to the CEOs that 
I met. 

I could tell from the soft empathetic looks she drew from their 
P.A.s and others that many felt (all being well aware of the 
tragic circumstances of the loss of her Mum) sadness and sorrow 
for Michelle. More than once I was taken aside and told with great 
sincerity how proud I should be of her and what a wonderful job I 
was doing with her, all on my own. But I knew better. I knew that 
any specialness about my darling girl was all her own doing, What 
made her special shone from within my sweet baby. 

Later that evening, we stopped at the first motel of our road 
trip, glad of the respite from the endless white line of the 
highway. Michelle stayed in the car while I booked us in, I then 
drove to the area where the rooms were, and parked. I turned off 
the motor. We both got out of the car, which was parked right 
outside of the room we were to share. I took both our overnight 
bags and carried them to the door. I opened it and carried the 
bags into the room then returned to find the light switch. 

As I turned I saw my daughter closing the door, by leaning her 
back against it. As it clicked shut and darkness enveloped us, I 
reached for the light switch but Michelle grabbed my hand to stop 
me. I heard her fingers fumbling behind her back then the 
unmistakable sound of the doors chain lock skidding into place. 
"Leave the light off Dadda...I just want to feel you...okay?" She 
brought my hand that she had been holding right up to her chest. 
As my fingers encircled her wonderful breast, I heard her suck in 
her breath. My fingers began squeezing gently on my daughter's 
exciting tit, and I moved my body into hers. Her hands went around 
my waist and pulled me further into her. 

My cock had quickly reached its full size and I felt it push into 
the crotch area of her shorts. I lowered my mouth, searching in 
the darkness for her hot neck, and she let out a quiet, 
"Mmmmmmmmmm," as I sucked at her hot flesh. When we had first come 
into the room, I saw the location of the bed. Now in the pitch 
darkness, sliding my fingers underneath Michelle's buttocks and 
lifting her feet off the ground, I started walking backwards 
towards the bed. Michelle hung on tight around her dadda's neck 
and wrapped her nubile thighs about my waist, all the while my 
fingers were squeezing at her tit and my mouth and tongue were 
playing at her neck. 

When we reached the side of the bed, Michelle flung herself back, 
bringing me down alongside her. She had quickly shifted to the 
middle of the bed and I instinctively shifted after her. Then I 
was pressing my body hard against my little girl. I felt her shaky 
hands grabbing at my head and ears, pulling my face down to hers. 
I was not prepared for the wild reception that my eager mouth and 
tongue received from Michelle's hot and wild hungry mouth. Hers 
opened and began working with a kind of desperation upon mine. My 
tongue eagerly pushed in between my daughter's sucking lips, she 
was pushing her whole body hard against mine. 

Michelle then began the same guttural groans that I had learned 
heralded an urgent need for the child to be fucked. She was 
quickly becoming a passionate bundle of sex. Fervently, my 
trembling fingers were opening the buttons on my daughter's 
blouse, and in a matter of seconds, I was pushing her bra up and 
over the now prominent buds of titflesh. 

Soon I was clutching at that flesh and our mouths were frantic 
against each other. I had moved my body in between my daughter's 
legs and now she and I were in the exact position for fucking. She 
was twisting her body hotly from side to side under me as her 
hands held tightly to my head and her mouth sucked in on my mouth, 
in an almost desperate manner. I began playing with her nipple and 
this seemed to inflame her further. 

Her moaning was a constant now and her young body couldn't stop 
its continuous movements under me, twisting from side to side. 
Michelle was talking and blabbering into my mouth, "Dadda ooooo 
Dadda mmmmmmm..." and her mouth continued attacking mine. I could 
not believe that my still preteen daughter could be reacting so 
violently; that she was apparently mentally in some wild bliss-
land. 

I moved a hand from one of her breasts and hurriedly slid it down 
over her body. I sought and found the hem of her skirt and slid my 
fingers over the tender thigh flesh of my cumtot. I moved my hand 
to the top of her panties and then moved it inside. The feel of 
the hot tender flesh of her belly under the palm of my hand caused 
my prick to spurt out a drop of precum. I had never been this hot 
and wild for sex. 

As my fingers gently passed over her clitoris, my daughter gasped 
and sucked in a huge mouthful of air from my mouth. At the same 
time, her hips lunged upward in an automatic reaction to the 
pleasure shooting through her body. As I began working my fingers 
at her still hairless pussy, we were both completely beyond any 
real human thinking. Animal lust had overtaken both of us. We were 
both obsessed with only one thing now. Michelle's pussy was nude 
and as soft as when she was born. As I moved my finger within her 
cunnie, I was amazed at the amount of juices within my daughter's 
cunny. 

Her whole body was a tinderbox of passion. As I gently pushed one 
of my fingers into my daughter's hole, she violently thrust her 
hips upward and her hands grasped tighter on my head. My finger 
moved in and out easily through her juices. Unlike anything that I 
had ever experienced, it seemed that all of my fingers and palm 
were now wet and sticky. I moved my other hand down her body and 
began to lift her skirt and tug at her panties. 

Michelle was in a frenzy. I felt her hands quickly leave my head 
and in an instant they were rapidly and desperately pushing her 
panties off of her hips, down her legs, and frantically off of her 
ankles. She tore her mouth away from mine and she began speaking 
in a rapid pace, "Hurry Dadda...hurry hurry..." Then she was 
lifting her upper body in a frenetic effort to tear away her 
blouse and bra. The child was on fire. I had never seen such wild 
passion. I raised myself in a hurry and jumped up from the bed. 

With almost the same frantic frenzied heat, I quickly stripped 
myself, and then, totally naked, I climbed back onto the bed; 
eager to touch, feel, eat, and fuck the young flesh of my flesh. 
We were two wild animals in heat, desperate to give our souls in 
lustful abandonment. My daughter's flesh was on fire as I touched 
her nakedness with mine. I moved my mouth over the flesh of her 
right tit, sucking eagerly on the protruding nipple. At the same 
time, I again moved a hand into the hot wetness of her bald pussy. 

"Oooooooooo!" she cooed. As my fingers moved over and around my 
daughter's clit, I heard her suck in a frantic gasp, and a wild 
short shriek was released from her throat, which I quickly cut off 
by clamping my palm firmly over her mouth. I wanted to taste more 
than her young fleshy tit. I licked around the underside of her 
breast and kissed in little pecks on the flesh. Her frantic 
breathing was causing her swelling chest to expand and deflate at 
a rapid pace. Her hands reached down on the back of my head and, 
as I began to kiss and tongue downward on her body, her hands 
pushed at me with force. 

Her young body must have sensed that she would reach her full 
satisfaction only when my mouth moved into her crotch, because her 
hands seemed to instinctively guide my head with a sense of 
urgency. My finger was now fucking her wet hole and my tongue and 
mouth continued moving over the young hot flesh of her pulsating 
hot belly. Her hands were now pushing me, rather than guiding me. 
The child desperately needed fulfillment. 

The taste and smell of her vibrant body was absolutely delicious. 
As I twirled my tongue around her belly button, I felt her stomach 
quivering beneath my lips. My fingers continued rubbing the 
child's clitoris. Michelle's body was writhing and her hands were 
desperately forcing my head lower. I rolled my body 180 degrees 
and was then facing the opposite direction to my daughter. Soon my 
eager mouth was at her mound, which was exuding wonderfully 
awesome pussy aromas. 

I began kissing this wonderful flesh as I moved my fingers on her 
cunnie again pushing one of them into my daughter's soaking hole. 
At the same time my throbbing cock was now bobbing obscenely in 
front of her face and Michelle grasped it tightly in her fist and 
began to pump it like a piston. 

"Nnnnnnnnnnngggggggg...!" Michelle's reaction was unexpected as 
her buttocks lifted violently and her hips thrust her hot pussy 
fiercely upward to meet my loving assault. Her hand was actually 
hurting my head as she clutched and forced me down all the way 
between her spread thighs. The heat surrounding my face was sauna-
like. The aroma from the child's pussy was mind boggling for me, 
something that I had never experienced before. 

"Oooooooohhhhh D aaaadda, Yessssss!" she wailed like some carnally 
whirling dervish. As I worked my mouth and nose into my daughter's 
hole, I placed my hands around her body and under her buttocks. 

Then I pulled her up as I laid back. Out of her mind with lust, 
Michelle eagerly allowed me to move her and she hurriedly moved 
her exciting body over me, straddling my body. I was then lying on 
my back with my daughter's thighs at my ears and her young moist 
twat pushing down at me in search of relief. I had my hands on the 
cheeks of her ass. 

I pulled her hips down and pushed my mouth into her waiting 
cunnie. Meanwhile Michelle was tracking the waving cock in front 
of her face, chasing it with her tongue and giving it delicious 
whips of pleasure as the tip found its target. Michelle released a 
wild cry of pleasure and I felt her hands clutching fiercely on my 
legs. My hungry mouth opened upon her clit and took it within my 
pursing lips as my tongue licked around it. I had to hold Michelle 
tightly as her body was instinctively thrashing. 

Tremendous spasms were obviously overtaking her and causing 
tremors of pleasure to course through her body. All I heard were 
animal-like sounds coming from my daughter as my mouth worked 
frantically on her thoroughly moistened pussy and I felt Michelle 
purposefully driving her wide open mouth down over my mast-like 
cock. She was swallowing it down into her throat, forcing the head 
deep into her neck until it stimulated her epiglottis, triggering 
both her gag reflex and the huge vaginal convulsions that now 
wracked her body. 

I was fascinated by the squirting baby cum-juice that then started 
to spurt from her hot young body. As my daughter started to 
ejaculate over my face, my face, neck, chest, chin and cheeks were 
wet from the child's cum squirt. As I pushed my tongue into 
Michelle's hole, she suddenly emitted a wild moan, then 
temporarily stiffened her whole body, and finally pushed her 
vagina down with a vengeance. 

Soon, I was holding tightly to the cheeks of her soft ass so that 
she wouldn't fall off, as she was fucking down on my mouth with 
wild abandon. As my tongue moved furiously inside the child I 
heard her voice babbling in the background, "Ooo aaahhh Dadda, oh 
Dadda, da, Dadda, oh oh oh nnnggg nnnggg ahhhhh Dadda ohhh 
pleeeeease!" 

Unable to wait any longer I tore my mouth away and, using all of 
my strength, I pushed her off me and onto her back. Quickly I 
shifted positions, moving rapidly upward upon my daughter's hot 
trembling naked body, coming to rest within her parted legs. As I 
moved up, I was confronted with a most unbelievable sight, one 
that I could have only dreamed until now. 

Michelle was no longer a rational person. The look of sheer lust 
and utter abandon on my daughter's face was the stuff of pedophile 
wet dreams. Her sex lips were swollen and displayed the rouge of 
total lust that had overtaken her body. They were quivering 
wildly. Her face was contorted and held a look of desperation. As 
my cock touched at the entrance of her pussy I was almost 
frightened by the wild look in her eyes as she babbled 
frantically, "Hurry Dadda, h-hurry hurry oh ooo yeah do it do 
it...hurry..." 

I wanted to be part of the total feeling of abandonment. I lowered 
my head down, pushed my lips down on hers, and was immediately 
attacked by her open mouth and frantic tongue. Michelle was on 
fire. As our hands grasped desperately at the back of each other's 
head my throbbing prick pushed into her hungry tight wet pussy. 

I felt her move her body up to meet mine and I could swear that I 
heard a cry of pain in my mouth as I felt myself push all the way 
inside her. The sensation on my cock slithering into her was 
exquisite, as I pushed all the way down into her. We were now both 
moaning in each other's mouth. Slowly I pulled my cock back and, 
as the tip was coming close to backing out through the entrance, 
Michelle's clutch became more frantic. 

She was moaning pleadingly in my mouth as if she was begging me 
not to pull out. I plunged back down into her and amidst the wild 
sounds coming from her; she wrapped her legs tightly around me as 
she bucked back up to meet my thrust. I was soon in a rhythm, 
moving in and out of my daughter's tight pussy, which I swear was 
sucking on my throbbing prick. I was doing all that I could to 
stay on her as she thrashed about with wild uncontrolled 
movements. 

Either Michelle had somehow watched a thousand x-rated porno 
movies and had practiced everything she had ever seen or she was 
what could only be described as a natural nymphomaniac. Never in 
my wildest dreams could I have envisioned such wildness in any 
girl fucking, let alone my primary school-age sweetheart. Her hips 
were thrashing about under me, going from side to side, bucking up 
and down, and to my amazement and excitement Michelle actually 
began biting at my mouth while she continued to babble. 

The pressure in my throbbing prick had reached its explosive 
point. I had one last flash of sanity. "Michelle I gotta oh honey 
ooo I'm gonna cum baby. Oooo I gotta pull out...!" I murmured. As 
I tried to pull back, Michelle became like a rabid animal. The way 
that she was furiously clutching and desperately fucking was 
totally amazing. 

She wrapped her long legs around my hips and locked her ankles 
behind my buttocks. "Oh oh oh oh yeah Dadda oh oh oh..." she 
babbled on. "cuumm in meee, fuck my girlhole, fill me up with your 
sex Dadda, make babies in my belly, pleeeeeeeeeease Dadda- 
aaaaaaaaa rrgh" There was no way to stop myself anymore. I began 
pounding with warp speed into the child's cunnie and she kept pace 
with my movements as I began to cum. 

"OHHH honey I'm cumming OHHHHH, Dadda's going to fill up your 
babyhole, I'm cumming inside your cunnyyyyyyyyyy!" I cried out. 

Michelle continued bucking and clutching. At the same time she was 
desperately urging me on, "Cum cum oh cum Dadda cum in meeeeeee 
cum!!!" We were both panting furiously hungrily sucking in air. 
"NNNNNNGGGGGG!" My teeth were clenched tight as I was shooting 
mind-boggling pleasurable squirts into my daughter. Squirt after 
squirt shot into her hole as her pussy sucked the final drops from 
me. It flooded into her sex and because of the enormous volume 
being shot into such a tight tunnel, the walls of her vagina 
became like a pressure vessel. It forced the cumm deep into her 
cervix and flooded her womb, even forcing thick wads into her 
tubes, bathing her baby ovaries in Dadda cum. 

I was finished. For minutes, I remained resting lightly upon her. 
We were both panting. Finally, I rolled off her. We lay side by 
side and I reached down and took her hand in mine. Soon our heavy 
breathing began to subside.

"I love you sweetheart," I said exhausted. "I love you too, 
Dadda," she responded. We were together and that was all either of 
us wanted or needed. Together, forever, a girl and her Dadda. A 
random moment I stood straining on my tippie toes, a sure sign 
that I was rapidly approaching orgasm as I looked down in love and 
wonder at my babygirl. Michelle was kneeling at my feet, rubbing 
at my penis which was lewdly lubricated with a water-based gel.

She had come up to me unbidden (as was her wont*S*) wearing 
nothing but the little Care Bears t-shirt that I had brought her 
at the Regional show a year before. Michelle invariably went about 
naked when we were at home together, making a big show about 
always being visible, always being available to Dadda's view, 
Dadda's touch. She received enormous satisfaction from the fact 
that I could satisfy my lust arbitrarily, on a whim if that is 
what I desired and her attire (or lack thereof) was symbolic of 
the fact that nothing stood between my desire and her ability and 
willingness to satisfy it.

When she did wear anything, it was always clearly chosen to incite 
my hunger, to encourage my use of her body. A simple singlet or t-
shirt like this was often the most effective because... she looked 
most of all like what she was, a little girl with her sex parts 
uncovered so her Dadda could touch and use them.

If more than a few hours went by and I didn't respond to so overt 
an invitation, Michelle would generally initiate sexual touching 
like she was doing now. Sometimes she would simply hop down at my 
feet and start to tenderly felate me, other times she was prone to 
kneeling down in front of me and, bending over to face away, would 
start some form of bawdy self stimulation, moistening her own 
sexhole until I predictably took advantage of it.

His time she had chosen to wank my cock into hardness, using a 
gooey slime to make the manual jerk off feel slick and sweet like 
her tight little cunnie hole. I could see she was rocking herself 
so that her vulva was grinding onto the heel of her foot perched 
under her, one of the sure signs that my baby wanted to cum. I 
knew as always it was time to call her on her little gambit and 
asked expectantly "Dadda has a big load of cum building up for you 
honey, do you want me to squirt it in your mouth or in your cunnie 
hole?" What Michelle said next rocked my world in a way that I 
never predicted.

"Neither Dadda, I want you to put it in here" and with that she 
turned and bent forward till her face was flat on the white tiles 
and her face turned to look back at me. Her hands reached around 
behind her and grasped either side of her dark little anus. She 
gathered as much of the white bottom flesh she could in her long 
fingers and pulled it hard aside, stretching her rear entry to a 
beckoning orifice that looked as tight and inviolate as her 
toddler vagina had looked the very first time I had touched it.

Michelle used the tips of her fingers to press the gelatinous 
liquid into her hole and I realised that the goo covering my cock 
had been applied for the same purpose. This was not on impulse, 
Michelle had planned for my to take her cherry areshole here and 
now, had orchestrated it so that no man on earth could or would 
resist sating his cock in her belly today. My baby wanted to 
experience anal sex and she wanted it today. The sexual curiosity, 
the premeditation behind this act of lust was blindingly erotic. I 
needed to fuck my baby's bottomhole, now!

I looked at the twinge of fear quelled with lust, listened to her 
pleading voice "Just put it straight in Dadda, don't wait, I don't 
want it slow, I want you to push it straight in all the way. I can 
take you, honest...". Suddenly it was clear, I knew what she 
wanted. In my desperate desire not to hurt my baby, not to alert 
her, not to impinge my lust into her consciousness, I had robbed 
Michelle of a right of passage.

My slow manipulation of her sex, using her vulva as a rub tube, 
the stealthy stretching of her vagina till I could press myself 
into her without tearing her hymen. It had all be done with such 
patience, such care but my baby didn't know what it was like to be 
opened for the first time, to feel the raping cock embed itself 
into her insides, stretching her to the point of implosion before 
the tender membrane gave way and she felt the swelling meat 
forging a new way through raw flesh. My babygirl was offering me 
her virginity, not something that I coveted and took clandestinely 
but a gift that she could offer and I accept. A gift of love, and 
lust and pain.

Her eyes were desperate now "Please Dadda, just put it all the way 
in, I'm ready for it and I know what I want, please Dadda, I want 
to feel you cum in my bottom..." I let my trousers drop to the 
floor as I knelt behind her and placed a hand on either side of 
her narrow hips. Michelle instinctively wiggled her bottom till 
the tip of my member lodged in the impossibly narrow opening to 
her colon, she pressed back till it was straining with the 
pressure of breaching her sphincter, then peering back at me with 
a warm smile, said "Go on Dadda, just like when you take a band-
aid off...one, two"...

***

3 months later

The correspondence had begun innocently enough. I had met "Harold" 
in a cybersex chatroom called "Across Generations" and had often 
seen his nickname "Bad Daddy69" logged in (a little corny, but 
so... generic and unimaginative that was less likely to catch the 
attention of the law enforcement officers that often sought to 
entrap pedophiles in these places).

We talked and compared noted about our baby girls and I always got 
a kick out of knowing that I was describing the true nature and 
antics of my real time cock addicted cumbaby Michelle, while all 
the men in these chatrooms merely simulated their aspirations 
describing their wannabe desires and fantasies. Similarly I had 
always encouraged Michelle to scour the net and practice her 
lolitaish acts of seduction in such places. I enjoyed nothing 
better than watching tell the masturbating middle aged men that 
called her for phone sex, that her Dadda was sliding his cock into 
her tight fuckhole, and how she was holding the vibrating egg on 
her clitty, just the way Dadda liked it.

They no doubt thought they were speaking to a fantasizing woman in 
her 30's "affecting" the voice of a child (think Marilyn Monroe 
meets Betty Boo). But as I heard the men grunting with orgasm, 
there was no doubting her frenzied arousal. She simply loved the 
thought of men's cocks getting hard and cumming for her!

Yet as Harold described his "Helen", something rang true in his 
words. Perhaps it was the way he described the stealth that was 
needed to turn his normal little child into the depraved sexgirl 
that he now claimed to enjoy, or the fact that he didn't just 
always want to talk about the sex, but also described the minutia, 
the sometimes boring details of what it took to keep the fact that 
your daughter was also your cocktoy, a secret from the world.

For whatever reason, it suddenly dawned on me that he was telling 
the truth, just like me! On impulse, I messaged him one day "Hey 
Harold, would you send me a picture of Helen, just so I know what 
this little cumpoppet of yours looks like?" he messaged back 
"Sure, just setting up the webcam...BRB". A moment later, an image 
began to assemble itself on my screen, of a delicious little 9 
year old, squatting with thighs spread wide so you could catch a 
glimpse of her bald little cunniehole. She had the cock of a man 
in his late 40s in her mouth and was obviously sucking it with 
gusto, while the man with his trousers around his ankles smiled 
smugly at the camera.

I was looking intently at the photo for any clue that it might be 
authentic, a freshly taken image rather than one of the 
innumerable (and often badly dated) photos of underage girls being 
used for men's pleasure that circulated endlessly in chatrooms 
across the net. I was still peering intently when another 
attachment appeared that changed Michelle's and my life forever.

It was a short video obviously taken from the point of view of the 
man. It showed the same girl lying on her back on a table, her 
shoulders rhythmically being pushed up by thrusting below out of 
frame. It zoomed in on her lewdly smiling face and she said "Does 
Michelle like it when you do this to her?". The camera panned down 
over her torso, giving a glimpse of the standing man's cock 
sliding in and out of her tender young vagina, the girl was 
starting to moan and whimper with pleasure as the camera was 
turned towards the man's still smug face. He winked once and then 
the clip ended.

I feverishly typed a response..."We have to meet"

***

6 months later

Michelle lay dozing on some sort of low divan... Sounds entered 
her ears but refused to penetrate into her mind, they echoed from 
somewhere a long way off...confused, garbled, not unpleasant, it 
was just that she did not care what they were.

She was swimming in a great big bowl of warm narcotic custard, 
skipping over the ocean of oblivion like a stone dipping in and 
out of unconsciousness, not particularly interested in maintaining 
the effort required to remain awake, the darkness beckoned.

Something called to her, was it her name..."Dadda?" but the sound 
was not the thing pulling her back, keeping her cognizant. It was 
something else?... Not sound, not sight (her eyes were screwed 
resolutely shut) it was... a feeling...something familiar, 
something far more powerful than sight or sound something?... Oh, 
it was a feeling *S* touch, sensation, something nice was 
happening to her, it was soft...mmmmmmm it was..."ohhhh 
Daddddaaaa"...

There were people, lots of people, noise, squelching & slurping 
and what was that bumping?? She could hear her Dadda's voice more 
clearly now..."That's right dear, that's my good girl...*she 
smiled, her Dadda was happy with her*... That's it, let them put 
their cocks in you, your such a lovely girl to fuck, they all want 
a turn". Sensation was returning and she realized that she was 
holding something..in both hands, but what was that bumping?... 
"Good girl, make them cum for Dadda"...Oh, they were cocks, she 
had cocks in each of her hands!

Her hands were full of some kind of lotion and she was rubbing 
them back and forth. She then identified other hands holding her 
legs up and apart... She forced her eyes to open a peek, but there 
was so much going on that she screwed them shut almost 
immediately. Always the pushing, bumping? There were men close, 
kneeling, pressing in to get close to her.

The ones with their cocks in her hands, thrusting, their faces 
like masks of lust over her and another face...? The one on top of 
her...Oh, he was fucking her. She was being fucked, that was what 
the bumping was, he was bumping her against the low loveseat she 
was splayed on as he thrust into her. That was the nice feeling 
she was getting in between her legs.

It all made sense now, she opened her eyes again to take a peek 
just as the two men kneeling over her began to spurt in unison. 
She felt the jets of semen streaking out of their penis' splashing 
over her breasts, her neck and tummy. They were cumming on her *S* 
"That's a good girl, see how much they need my babygirl, their 
cocks spurted for you. 

The scene changed, other men new men are moving in, taking the 
place of the others, she can hear moaning and feel her bottom 
being lifted up off the divan. The man in Michelle's vagina is 
cumming too and she can feel the pressure of the spurt and the 
overflow down her leg, she can tell that he is not the first. 
Michelle's cunnie is drenched with cum, as is her body. She looks 
over his shoulders and see another man straining to take his place 
and behind him others, many others, jostling to see and fuck the 
babywhore.

"That's right, let the men use your cunnie, just like Dadda taught 
you, just like Dadda made you"... Soothing sounds of her Dadda's 
voice, and his touch, unmistakable. His hands on her face, behind 
her neck his lips grazing hers, gently kissing her. At the first 
touch of his tongue on her teeth, she begins to buck under the man 
between her legs. She thrashes so that the men restraining her 
legs redouble their grip and pull her thighs apart till her groin 
is strained. Dadda is kissing her and she wants to cum, cum for 
her Dadda. He leans down to her ear and whispers softly "I Love 
you my darling girl".

Then Dadda's hands are behind her neck, his fingers are lifting 
her chin up and straightening out the tunnel formed by her neck, 
angling her throat to make a deep fuckhole, she knows Dadda likes 
to fuck her mouth like that. Her Dadda's cock is wobbling before 
her eyes as he kneels to take position above her head, and guides 
his cock into her throat. Now she is complete, now she is happy. 
Dadda loves her, Dadda needs her. As his finger tips guide her own 
cockjerking hands "That's right baby, milk them onto your pretty 
sift skin for Dadda"... and his cock occupies her mouth and her 
throat engulfs him, Michelle starts the gushing cum that she has 
become known for in certain circles.

She here's men exclaiming, then moans and grunts, in the 
background a smattering of applause. Dadda beams in pride as his 
writhing squirt baby cums under him and in that moment, there is 
no one else in the room, just a girl and her Dadda.

***

One year later Michelle stood in the middle of the dark wood 
paneled room, a blind fold covering her face, expectantly waiting 
for the surprise I had promised her tonight. Tonight was special, 
she knew and I had promised her a treat. Tonight was her 12th 
Birthday!

Around the room a small gathering of men in expensive clothes, 
smoking jackets, blazers some opting for more unconventional 
attire, leather gear, latex and one stood with an enormous penis 
peeking from a frilly negligee. It was a place where conventional 
judgments and morality were... irrelevant.

Some of the men sat in large leather chesterfield lounges and 
chairs, or stood against fireplace, bookcases or at the foot of a 
giant oak staircase that ascended to the first floor. Many young 
girls, infants through to young teens stood, kneeled or sat at 
their Dadda's (or guardians, or foster carer's) feet, most naked, 
some dressed in the provocative garb or cherubs, courtesans, 
schoolgirls or whores. There were several young boys present also, 
two stood to one side of Michelle, arms interlinked, each fondling 
the others genitals absently, waiting for the evening's 
entertainment to unfold.

Michelle was alert and functional, despite being comprehensively 
drugged. Several of the guests were Doctors (and Barristers and 
Parliamentarians and Judges...) and they had perfected the 
concoctions that I dosed her with to staggering effect. While she 
could happily stand still blindfolded, with no loss of balance, 
could respond and retain consciousness, Michelle was floating on a 
cocktail of drugs that left her without inhibition (although her 
demure nature still shone through *S*), without anxiety, 
completely compliant and most important of all, devoid of any 
capacity to recollect events since I administered the drugs, just 
before the limousine had called to collect us. It had come a long 
way since the mickey fins of her youth!

Most of the young charges had their lips wrapped around their 
parent/carer's cock, others had their hands inside the robe or 
zippers and the rhythmic rise and fall of fabric told the story of 
gentle caresses and squeezes beneath. One or two of the children 
were mere tots, somewhere between 2 and 4 years of age and there 
were several older girls that were obviously given the task of 
caring for them. One, a girl of no more then 13 and heavily 
pregnant nursed a baby baby boy at her teat on the lounge, while 
holding his legs apart for one of the gentlemen to suckle at the 
boy's thin cock.

Michelle was dressed angelically, my heart swelled with pride as I 
saw the men's cocks engorge at the sight of her. She had on a 
little cream satin bustier that pinched in her tiny waist, giving 
her hips form and curve beyond their years. It was cut below her 
pert little breastbuds, pushing them up and together giving her 
the impression of cleavage where in truth there was none. Her 
nipples stood large and defined against dark areolas, a sure sign 
of the precocious presence of sex hormones constantly flooding her 
body and of the semen that was rubbed into them daily. Her breasts 
were covered with fine goosebumps that served to define and 
highlight the delectable firmness of her blossoming bosom.

The bustier was matched with dainty panties, see-thru with 
detailed embroidery encasing her delicious little sex, and also 
hooked down to hold up sheer silk stockings, with lovely frilly 
tops squeezing the tops of her svelte thighs. She unconsciously 
moved her weight from foot to foot in high stiletto heels which 
defined and outlined her ankles and calves and made her stand with 
her cute little bottom pushed a little out and her lovely 
developing bosom accentuated. 

Her breathing was coming in short pants at the excitement of being 
so exposed and at having been blindfolded since our arrival. She 
heard the unmistakable sounds of sex, the sighs of children and 
the grunts of adult men and her fingers played nervously at the 
edge of her lips as she fought to stop from covering herself, just 
like Dadda had said.

I had never seen her looking so beautiful, my perfect little 
Lolita poppet, my cumbaby, Dadda's only sexgirl.

Our elderly host currently had a ten year-old girl named Heather 
astride his leg and a girl perched on either arm of his chair. 
Young Heather, inhibitions undone and libido spiked by drugs, was 
walking around in a daze. Cocaine had been rubbed liberally into 
her vagina, making her move constantly despite the sedatives in 
her veins. It was also making her incredibly horny and her cunnie 
unbelievably itchy. She had walked up to the old gentleman with 
big hazel eyes full of lust and the end of her wheat colored 
ponytail in her mouth.

Unconscious of what she was doing, she'd lifted her red satin 
party dress and tried to mount his leg. He had helped her straddle 
his thigh and was petting her as she rocked her excited little 
pussy on his leg.

I stepped forward towards Michelle and kissed her gently on the 
her soft lips as my hands lifted to cradle her precious face and I 
felt her melt against me.

"Dadda told you today was special, not just because it was your 
Birthday and that I had a surprise for you, something for being 
such a good girl for Dadda, didn't I honeygirl?"

"Yes Dadda!" she uttered excitedly. "And Dadda always keeps his 
promises to his babygirl, doesn't he". "Yes Dadda!". I turned to 
our host and he nodded and gave a signal to a Butler clad in the 
formal attire of his trade. He turned to a door at the rear of the 
room and went to retrieve Michelle's special present.

Mickey had sensed the excitement of the day the moment the red 
ribbon was tied in a bow under his chin. He was happy but 
suspicious of being free to run about and the over crowded room 
and this confused him. Pussy everywhere, and food! It was more 
than his walnut brain could process. Too much noise! Too many 
smells!

Then out of the sensory confusion the perfect smell appeared, he 
was smelling one particular pussy, familiar, comforting one that 
smelled... right. Mickey was a smart dog, and although he was 
still a young dog, easily trained. For the last month while he was 
kept at the mansion ready to be Michelle's treat he had been given 
constantly refreshed pairs of her panties to sniff, to familiarize 
himself with. 

Michelle did not question why her Dadda made her wear her panties 
for 3 days at a time, nor why he always had her remove them and 
hand to me rather than putting them in the hamper. I had placed 
them in Ziploc bags and sent them over with the driver that called 
twice a week for them.

In the kennels, they were produced at each meal time and the 
handlers had given Mickey the scent of her each day twice a day 
before mealtime. In this way her scent was already positively 
associated for Mickey and this was reinforced by the 'special' 
handling he got from Heather and the other special wards to whom 
the old man was legal guardian.

***

After each evening meal one of the children would come and lay in 
the kennel with Mickey. The handlers would hold Michelle's 
recently soiled panties to his nose as the nominated girl would 
felate the dog. Laying on his side she would rub her pursed lips 
up and down the length of his glistening red shaft, pulling the 
furry pouch aside to reveal the bulbous cock. Finally as he 
starting whimpering she would close her mouth over the head and 
swallow the long dog penis right down to the knot, and holding it 
gurgling in her gullet as the dog pumped its seemingly endless 
stream of semen into her preteen belly.

Powerful conditioning was overwhelming to the dog who had reached 
the peak of his sexual maturity and had a constant urge to breed. 
Even as the pheromones began to reach his incredibly sensitive 
nostrils he began to simultaneously salivate, his cock slid 
glistening and stiff from its sheath and he began to involuntarily 
rut as he walked. He was as imprinted with the need to fuck 
Michelle as she was to be her Dadda's fucktoy.

"Beautiful girl, here is your special surprise" I say, removing 
the blindfold. There arrowing towards her through the crowd 
(guided by his keen scent) was Mickey, her own first ever puppy. 
"Oh Dadda, is he really mine, really for me?

"Happy birthday baby!" "You're mine!" Michelle sighed.

Mickey, the dog, would have echoed those words if he was able. He 
spoke the dog equivalent, pressing his muzzle between a pair of 
fragrant thighs, and finding the source of the perfect aroma. His 
dog heart filled with love and his penis bulged like a spear of 
pink passion. Little fingers scratched behind his ears as the 
tasty pussy rubbed his snout.

Michelle was weak-kneed and trembly, covered with goosebumps like 
she was being tickled all over. Mickey's warm furry muzzle was 
planted between her legs, his tongue frantically licking the 
crotch of her panties. The cloth was soaked with her stickiness 
and her puppy's spit. She buried her fingers in Mickey's soft fur 
and lifted his head to look at his handsome face.

"I love you," she told him and scratched him behind his furry ears 
as his nose poked back down to her cunnie. She had slid to her 
knees between my legs so she could hug her dog and now gazed up at 
her father, melting with gratitude.

"Thank you, Dadda! You knew what I wanted more than anything."

"Always, my poppet," I replied wryly.

I petted her hair, watching Mickey press his nose low to get it 
between her thighs again and I saw her lift her bottom a bit to 
give his tongue easier access. Seeing this made my big cock jump 
with need, aching to be squeezed. It was straining with eagerness 
out of my open pants fly, little bubbles of precum dripping from 
its ruby slit. Michelle's mouth watered and she wrapped her hand 
around it, leaning on me to steady herself under the force of 
Mickey's loving attack. It felt so good for both of us!

She licked my cockhead and then pursed her lips around my knob to 
suck my juice, trying to get more cock spit out of the hole. I 
groaned and thrust into her hand, poking her mouth and Michelle 
thought she must be the luckiest little girl in the world this 
Birthday. She put her hand on my fat balls to jiggle my eggs while 
she sucked me.

Even though she wanted to feel her Dadda spurt in her mouth, she 
let go of my dick as I started to cum. Moaning, she arched her 
back, spreading her legs as the seizure of pleasure gripped her. 
She held her big puppy's head as the last spasm shivered through 
her, to stop his assault.

Mickey gazed up at her through his shaggy gold fringe and 
whimpered.

I gazed at her with Love. "Did you see!" she gasped, grateful to 
be lifted up in my hands, praying I'd seen everything.

"Daddy saw, baby." My voice caressed her, so deep and loving, and 
aroused.

I was dying to plunge my cock into Michelle's wet vagina but I 
wanted to deepen her bond with Mickey; take advantage of the 
special moment for her by teaching her the special game of fucking 
her dog. I was also mindful of the expectant hush that had come 
over the room. There wasn't a man in the room who did not have his 
cock out of his pants and wasn't being sucked, fondled, licked or 
fucked by one of the available cumtots in the room. Even the 
Butler had (after asking his Master's permission) sat himself on 
the Piano stool at the other end of the room and was in the 
process of impaling girl of no more than 7 onto the paper thin 
flesh of his erect tool.

I lifted Michelle gently and carried her over and laid her down on 
her belly on the plush ottoman of an armchair that was now set in 
the middle of the room.

"I'm so happy with you, baby" I told Michelle, bending down to 
kiss her cheek, stroking her back, as I removed her sodden 
panties.

"Did you see him lick me?" she asked, propping up on her elbows. 
As ever, I was moved by my daughter's joy "I saw every lick," I 
assured her.

"Baby," I said, stroking her bare bottom. I was in agony of 
wanting her, but resisted.

Mickey was whimpering, his big pink dick seemed as torturously 
hard as my own. It looked much too big for his body. He was only a 
mid sized dog, but was hung with the meaty seven inch of cock of 
one of his anonymous ancestors.

"Look at your puppy, sweetheart," I said. "He's suffering."

Michelle turned her bright blonde head to see. Her little jaw 
dropped and her eyes got big.

"See how swollen and hard his penis is, baby?" I said, allowing 
myself to finger the tight warm pussy I wanted so badly to fuck, 
trying not to think about my own suffering.

"It's so pink!" she exclaimed.

The big pup darted his head forward to lick his new mistress's 
face. Michelle cooed sympathetically and wrapped her arm around 
his neck. The poor dog started humping the air as she kissed him.

"Don't worry, Mickey," she told him softly. "I'll be just like a 
little girl dog for you. I'll never let you be lonely!"

"Good girl," I praised, as I positioned her hips. I added a small 
pillow under them to lift her a little bit higher. "Daddy will be 
right here helping you, Pet. Don't be afraid."

***

Mickey's penis was beautiful! Bubble gum pink with raspberry 
highlights. Michelle could still see it in her mind as it spread 
her cunnie wide and he pushed inside.

Mickey needed her bad! She didn't protest as several young 
attendants lifted his paws up to place them gently on either side 
of Michelle's thin hips. There were audible moans from those 
around her as Michelle lifted her preteen arse to admit his cock 
deep into her belly. His fur was soft, tickling her bottom and the 
backs of her thighs.

The sweet feeling of being stuffed with a thrusting puppy prick 
made her moan with happiness. Even better, at last she was feeling 
humping motions she had dreamt of. Mickey was fucking her hard and 
fast, like a dick on springs, and she loved the wild bestial 
rutting. Already she loved Mickey and she knew that he loved her 
too. But here, now she was just a girldog for Mickey to fuck, 
cummeat for him to rut into, to use until his thrusting cock 
exploded into her. And that was what little Michelle wanted more 
than ever, right now, in front of all these people, in front of 
her beloved Dadda. She would be the best cumgirl, the best 
puppywhore any of them had ever seen!

His hum With each hump, the knot of his penis was bumping her 
swollen button, making it harder and harder. Each bump sent 
currents of heat through her pussy and belly. She was greedy for 
more and kept lifting her bottom to feel his bulge hit her clit.

She could smell my crotch. I was kneeling right in front of her, 
my hands by her sides as I covered Mickey's paws. "Fuck me, 
Mickey," she groaned. Her fuckhole and clit were being pounded 
harder and harder.

Then suddenly, the big knot that had been ramming her bud, went 
into her vagina, forced inside by her puppy's frantic humping. 
Michelle screamed and nearly swooned as her cunnie locked around 
the ballooning penis. Several of the older men began to moan, 
cumming into the mouths, hands, vaginas and anuses of the children 
in their laps.

"Daddy, it's too big!" she cried. "It's okay, baby," I murmured 
close to her ear. "It's how Mickey shows you I loves you. Doesn't 
it feel good, baby, filling you up?"

She didn't reply but merely starting emitting a low gurgling 
noise, a moan rising from somewhere deep in her abdomen. It did 
feel good! Like a big wave at the beach, lifting and taking her up 
and up. She seemed to feel Mickey's spunk pouring inside her and 
knew he was in ecstasy of loving her. The pressure was intense.

"Mickey is squirting in me and I'm cumming, Daddy," she moaned as 
the pleasure sent chills through her body. "Good girl." My voice 
was sweet in her ear.

Michelle's whole body pulsed with her climax. She grabbed hold of 
me like she might wash away, hugging me, rubbing her mouth on my 
stiff dick, breathing its comforting smell mixed with puppy dog 
cum. She licked and bit at my cock as another wave of cumming hit 
her.

I love my daddy she thought, I love my Mickey, she screamed inside 
as her body convulsed with cumming again.

I planted my cock for a handful of blissful thrusts in my 
daughter's hungrily sucking mouth. It was only force of will that 
had kept me from raping her mouth earlier while watching my baby 
writhe through multiple orgasms, tied to her dog. She gagged on 
the enormous erection as I thrust into her neck, the convulsions 
this caused wracked her tiny body, squeezing the dog's knot even 
more, making it feel gargantuan in her child sized cunnie.

This in turn both stirred Mickey on to pump more of his viscous 
puppy ooze into the girl and forced her over the edge again to 
another choking orgasm. She struggled to breathe, not noticing 
when I pinched her nose shut, sending her into spasms of thrashing 
that sucked the biggest orgasm of my life from my aching balls. 
She arched her back once more as she teetered on the verge of 
asphyxiation, self preservation causing her body pulsing to jerk 
on Mickey's cock in "le petite mort". I released her nostrils and 
withdrew my deflating cock, to watch her deliciously hardened 
nipples rise and fall as she drew great lungfuls of air, utterly 
spent.

"That's my good girl, that's Dadda's sexgirl" I gasped, looking 
down at the thick ropes of cum that drooled from her lips and had 
splattered her smooth blemish free chin.

***

Two years later

"Please Dadda, please push it in, it won't hurt the baby I 
promise!". I looked at my darling daughter, naked on her knees on 
the kitchen floor, her school uniform pushed up over her buttocks 
to reveal her firm ripe round buttocks and her open, empty sexhole 
peeking from between splayed thighs, Michelle looking over her 
shoulder her eyes pleading, imploring.

Her sexual hunger had become limitless, her need insatiable. 
Whether it was due to the hormones that were coursing through her 
body now that she was 8 months pregnant with my baby, or just the 
that the thought that she was breeding with her own father was so 
naughty that it tripped some switch in her, I could not tell. All 
I knew is that Michelle wanted me day and night, she had become 
nymphmaniacal, hypersexual, an delicious expectant little pregnant 
harlot for her Dadda.

Minutes before I had been sitting at the kitchen table reading the 
newspaper when she came in the door from school, her arm under the 
swollen belly that pushed out like a tent in front of her 
specially tailored uniform. Oh, hadn't that caused an uproar at 
the school, counsellors and year advisors had plenty of advice for 
the sole father of such a wayward teen. 

And of course little Michelle had played her part with aplomb, 
even breaking down and crying as she sat with me in the 
Principal's office and confided how an "indiscretion" at summer 
camp with a teen boy had left her in this condition (she had 
rubbed my cock through my pants while we waited outside his 
office, snickeringin a whisper that "The principle was gonna see 
Dadda's hard on, nyah, nyah, nyah. You're gonna get detention, 
nyah, nyah, nyah!).

But the truth was that I had planted my seed deep inside my 
daughter's belly day after day, night by night and now we watched 
her tummy swell inevitantly and expectantly with the 
offspring/sibling she carried inside her. This joyous event had 
been something we had both wanted for so long and free from the 
shakles of conventional morality, there seemed to be no reason on 
earth why we should wait. My baby would finish her schooling by 
correspondence and she knew that Dadda planned to look after her 
for ever and ever, so we couldn't see any reason not to fill her 
belly with Dadda's cum until he made a baby inside her.

And so it was that my little coquet had walked through the door 
declaring that she had waited all day to be fucked and couldn't 
wait a minute longer. She had even made one her year 7 "groupies" 
as we called them, lick her cunnie in the darkened lighting box of 
the drama auditorium after lunch but it didn't hold her, it just 
took the edge off. 

She had recruited many young fleshlets to her cause, having a 
sexual magnetism and command of her powers of seduction that most 
women didn't achieve till their 30's, if at all. But his darling 
fucktot had experienced so, so much more than most 30 years olds 
(in fact she had had more sex, tasted more semen and made enough 
cocks jerk in orgasm over her for any three lifetimes).

She sat squarely on the table straight in front of me, a foot on 
either side me on the chair and leaned back on one hand and rubbed 
her belly lewdly. "My baby knows when your daughter wants to be 
fucked Dadda. It can feel my needing and it gets restless"

"it" was still of indeterminate sex. We had forgone the usual 
heads up from the Ultrasound technician and instead preferred to 
conjecture. Mostly Michelle did this while sitting astride me, 
riding up and down on my cock, or when she would reach back and 
pull the cheeks of her anus apart so I could rape that other dark 
hole. She knew the debauched suggestions, the carnal comparisons 
of what being a sister/mother to either an infant girl or boy was 
so taboo as to make my cock ache from engorgement.

Rubbing, her belly in circles that began on her navel and undoing 
one button of the chequered St. Cuths dress on each pass, she 
gradually broadened her rotations until her fingers were raking 
her swollen breasts and gently tickling her fastidiously bald 
cleft. "It's moving Dadda, can you see it? I think some of what 
runs through my veins is already in it Dadda. Just as you taught 
me to associate being dreamy and drowsy with arousal, with having 
cum over me, covering me, with having orgasms, I think my baby is 
learning to need sex already!"

She knew her vulgar words would inflame me, that and the way her 
white socked toe had slipped from her school shoe and was now 
circling round and round my groin. There was no mistaking the 
tenting of my erection in my casual shorts, already making my 
uncomfortable sitting there, begging to be freed. "You know Dadda, 
I think this little one is going to be born a sex baby, just like 
me..., think about it, when you touch my fuckhole, lick me or rape 
my bottom, the baby feels it inside. 

"It hears me moan, feels my respiration, heatbeat all go crazy and 
then...whoooosh, it feels the electric impulses going haywire as 
my orgasm short circuits every nerve in my body (especially the 
ones around my sexual organs and that's what my womb is Dadda, my 
womb is part of my cunnie, Dadda and that's where you fuck me")

My penis was pulsing now, she was being so depraved, so corrupt 
and she knew that drove me mad. Just like that first time when I 
felt her rocking with me, felt her responding to my thigh raping 
when she was just a baby. It aroused me incredibly to know that 
she hungered, she needed like I did. It wasn't just me, it wasn't 
just a Dadda using, abusing his Daughter, it was giving my baby 
what she needed, making her feel good, just like her body wanted 
to feel.

She had the dress completely open now and was pressing three 
fingers deep below her ponderous belly, stretching her hand past 
the moving, living bulge that swelled before my eyes and driving 
them into her vagina. There was already a little pool of girl cum 
on the table underneath her, some of which had begun to drip off 
the edge of the table and was starting to make a dark patch on my 
billowing shorts. The other hand was squeezing at her impossibly 
enlarged breast, alternately stroking and tweaking at each until 
little droplets of viscous liquid formed at each nipple.

"There Dadda, I've made some milk for you...do you want to taste 
some of your baby daughter's sweet breast milk?" she teased the 
teats then squeezed one so that a stream of droplets shot across 
my chest and chin, lips and open mouth. I stared at the darkened 
nipples, so much larger and suckable now that she was pregnant.

Inevitably when she got on her knees and began begging me to fuck 
her, she knew that it would work. Was I that predictable, that 
ensnared in her sexual wiles, that beholden to her girlish cunnie? 
I didn't know, didn't care, as my shorts dropped to the floor and 
my cock sprang free, sending a shot of precum sailing to land on 
her milky white bottom. It didn't matter, what mattered was that I 
put my dick in her, now!

"You know I feel the baby move every time when it knows you're 
going to fuck me. Do you think it's moving so your cock will rub 
it where it feels best, do you think it's already learning how to 
be a good cockbaby for you? I know one thing though, when you fuck 
me hard and make your little girl cum, my bloodstream is going to 
be awash with endorphins, the closest thing to liquid love there 
is. Do you think the baby likes that Dadda, do you think it's cum 
addicted like me already?"

Michelle's coaxing teasing questions were having the desired 
effect. My cock was already rearing, then veins down it's side 
throbbing dark and blue. As I knelt down behind her I saw her 
heavy belly ballooned between her legs, her heavy, milk laden 
breast seeping onto the floor and watched as the fingers of one 
hand rubbed at her clittybud like a very deranged thing. "I'm 
going to cum now Dadda and I know I'm going to squirt a lot.

Will you put your cock in me, hard? Make it good for me Dadda"

How could I say now to my babygirl. She needed her Dadda.

***

Three years later

I hold little Faith as she peers over the side of the baby crib in 
the delivery suite..."Isth, that oww bubba, Dadda?"..."yes dear, 
that's your little brother Dwayne"... I smile at the curious look 
on her sweet face and squeeze your hand as we watch our darling 
little girl meet her baby brother. "hees sthorta funny looking an 
he crys a lot" we both laugh, another indelible memory (another 
"Kodak moment") just one of the innumerable that we have shared on 
this glorious, unlikely adventure we have shared.

I think for a moment of another baby, swaddled and sweet just like 
this. It seems just yesterday, that I held you darling Michelle 
and squeezed another dear woman's hand.

I wonder what she would make of this strange circle of love we 
have made? I ponder but a moment, then smile. I have made us a 
family and taken care of the two people she loved most in the 
whole world, a girl and her Dadda. And now our little family is 
complete and it's time to move to a new phase of our love, create 
a new special bond with my little girl. To make my babygirl 
daughter my wife.

***

Six years later

The new Mrs. Jordan had made quite an impression at my firm, I 
thought to myself as I watched another of the Junior Executives 
eye her with barely disguised lust.

I was the most admired man in the company, yes in part because of 
my meteoric rise (and close personal relationship with the firms 
Billionaire owner Oishi-san) but mostly because of the beautiful 
young wife that they assumed I had won through the hurly burly of 
corporate life, the money, trinkets and toys with which I could 
now shower her.

My little girl had graduated from Dadda's cuddling cumbaby to 
wayward teen babymaker and now had taken the place that she was 
destined to occupy since her mother's tragic death over 20 years 
ago. In one final, cross-country trip, she had left our home as my 
daughter and arrived with me to take up a much sought after 
corporate role as my delicious young trophy wife.

It took some organising, I had worked hard to ensure that I 
maintained the fit frame of a man a decade younger and my little 
squirtbaby had started to dress up (when we were out in public 
*S*) like a lady well beyond her tender years. The end result was 
that we could pass as one of the countless couples where a guiless 
ingénue and a seasoned man of the world had each found in the 
other what they wanted, what they needed.

And was that so far from the truth? My girl had found in her Dadda 
the husband who would love and protect her for the rest of her 
days and could love her the only way she knew how, completely and 
utterly, without conditions, without limits.

And I had found a girl, who was become a woman, who had given me 
back what that drunk driver had taken away, a family. She was my 
daughter, my lover, the mother to my new babies and now, my wife.

When we had arrived in a new city and the removalists had driven 
off after two days of unpacking and decorating, we sat around, my 
new babygirl wife and our two kids and suddenly realised that this 
was the start of a whole new life together, a life not just as a 
girl and her Dadda but as husband and wife.

And my little girl had done everything in her power to help create 
that life with me, going so far beyond the role of the good 
corporate wife that it makes me blush at times to think about it 
(O.K maybe blushing is a bit fat fetched, but you'll see what I 
mean).

In my last position, my promotion from Regional Executive to 
Divisional President was, let's say... accelerated by the sudden 
departure of the current incumbent, one Hank Treadwell. He was an 
acutely well qualified and competent Manager who was sadly also 
morally bankrupt. He was widely known for his marital 
indiscretions and on more than one occasion had been known to have 
sacked a female subordinate under dubious circumstances.

Darling Michelle delivered me his head on a plate rather 
unexpectedly at a cocktail party thrown in honour of the visiting 
Japanese Chairman of the Board, Oishi Kitanaka (now just Oishi-
san, to those in his inner circle).

The black tie affair was held in the palatial Australian 
headquarters of the firm and as the evening wore on and the saki 
flowed, I noticed Michelle seemed somewhat preoccupied and had 
spent a large portion of the evening watching Hank's movements as 
he "worked the room". At one stage I saw them deep in 
conversation, then when I next looked up they were no where to be 
seen.

Moments later I heard a scream (unmistakeably Michelle's) then a 
male yell and a slapping sound, before she burst crying from the 
locked Executive washroom. This of course brought the party to a 
standstill and as I rushed forward to embrace and comfort her, I 
saw my boss the National President Kirk Pendergrace going by me, 
into the washroom to investigate. The door closed behind him and 
there were loud raised voices, before Treadwell was escorted from 
the room by 3 of Kitanaka's Sumo-sized "Assistants" (known 
affectionately to insiders as the 'goon squad') never to be seen 
on company premises again.

After taking Michelle downstairs and being taken home in 
Kitanaka's personal Rolls Royce, my shyly smiling mischievous minx 
confided that events unfolded something like this.

Michelle had been making outrageously flirtatious remarks to Hank 
(covertly) during the night (including one about how she couldn't 
come at the raw fish and other so called delicacies served up to 
honour Oishi-san and as a consequence was positively starving for 
some protein, in fact if she didn't get something filling inside 
her body soon, she might just pass out).

At one stage she had casually held her fingers under his nose and 
asked casually, "What do you think that smell is?" Hank apparently 
answered honestly..."Sushi?", to which she replied, "Well Hank you 
know, I never touch the stuff... but I'm glad to know you find 
it...appetising".

Then after feeding Hank one whisky after another (and feigning 
drunkness herself to him), she had volunteered that she was going 
to the ladies room to "powder her nose" and (discretely squeezing 
his crotch) wondered if he'd like to join her? (she also wondered 
idly "where she'd heard that the Exec Bathroom had lockable 
doors?" *S*).

Well that was too much for old Hank and after waiting a (barely) 
decent moment, he headed off to follow her. After locking the main 
outer door, he found my little Michelle with her pert arse perched 
on the long marble vanity, back against the mirror, just as she 
extracted two fingers from her aromatic cunnie and sucked them 
clean. As he rushed forward, she expertly pivoted and slammed his 
arse up onto the ledge while dropping to her knees in front of 
him.

Her hands deftly undid the fly of his Tux trousers which dropped 
down over his elevated feet and hit the floor and she reached in 
to free his rapidly inflating cock. She drove her mouth down and 
engulfed his cock warmly in her sweet mouth till her lips suckled 
at his balls while she reached in to free her own ample breasts 
and rubbed them lewdly along the sides of his cock as she tongued 
and sucked at the head.

This had the desired effect and soon his cock was turning purple 
in its engorgement and he was audibly whimpering with the desire 
to shoot his load in, on or over her.

She stood and began to unbutton the front of his frilled front 
shirt to expose his (now puffed up) chest. She smiled sweetly at 
Hank, his cock and balls now resting (symbolically) in her soft, 
warm, feminine hands and (I would give half of my first years 
President's bonus which is in itself a six figure amount, to have 
seen the look on Hank's face at this point) then without 
explanation, Michelle did the following things in quick 
succession:

1. She put a finger into each of her nostrils and pinched the 
cartilage between them really hard (guaranteed to trigger a flood 
of tears) 

2. let loose a shrill piercing scream that scared the shit out of 
him (thereby increasing his respiration and general 
disorientation) 

3. Leaned in and bit him extremely hard on the right nipple, 
causing him to yell at the top of his lungs (and co-incidentally 
making his cock grow noticeably more swollen...an unintended 
bonus) 

4. Stood back and looked at his now totally confused face, drew 
back and slapped herself savagely in the face before tearing at 
the bodice of her evening gown, (cost of replacing dress 
$6,500.00, increase in salary as a result of promotion $460,000, 
look on Hank's face as he was led away... priceless!). 

5. Finally she winked at Hank and ran crying from the room into my 
arms.

I can only guess at Kirk's reaction when he came to the door to 
see Hank standing, family jewels at attention, his trousers at 
half mast round his ankles and his mouth opening and closing 
silently (Kirk confided to me later that had always hated Hank's 
guts, as an individual he found he objectionable and was delighted 
at the opportunity to terminate him).

The fact that Oishi-san considered Hank's shameful and unprovoked 
attack to have brought shame upon Oishi-san himself was as much a 
reflection of his own personal integrity as it was his Japanese 
cultural values. ("I just looked up and he was there, with 
this...look in his eyes. He must have followed me when I excused 
myself... He tried to...he tried to ..ohh... it was just awful")

He came to our home the next day (an unprecedented gesture) to 
apologise that such a man had ever been allowed to work for his 
firm, let alone occupy a position of power. He hoped his humble 
apology (and the $165,000 diamond necklace he gave her, bowing as 
he did so) would give her some solace. When my darling Michelle 
advised she couldn't accept (she was genuinely touched by his 
concern) he looked at her for one moment, then asked her to 
reconsider. He pleaded that she took his offering if only to 
afford him the opportunity of reclaiming a small portion of the 
face that Hank had taken through his cowardly attack.

Michelle bowed to Oishi-san and thanked him humbly and the look of 
gratitude on his face told her instantly that any other decision 
would only have caused this proud man from an archaic but 
heartfelt culture, more pain.

That I was the best candidate for the promotion was unquestioned. 
That I would be given the promotion (and fast tracked to be Kirk's 
successor when he retired in two years time) was a forgone 
conclusion. Kirk never asked and Oishi-san never answered, that 
was how things happened in Japanese firms. But that we had been 
anointed and would be forever favoured was confirmed when my perk 
allowance was extended to a 2nd (bright pink VW Convertible) car 
and we joined the list of those flying to Tokyo for the firms 
annual Christmas Balls and other such gala events.

I still recall my little Michelle, looking sheepishly at me after 
the driver had dropped us home that night and she had confided the 
whole elaborate tale, looking at me with a smile that was equal 
parts cherub and incubus "you aren't mad at me, are you Dadda?... 
Did I do good? *S*"

She did good and she does good, every single day, as the new Mrs. 
Jordan. We spend each day, loving each other the best ways we know 
how. We still sometimes play those...ruder games (we occasionally 
on interstate trips visit the circle of confidants we developed 
and Michelle acts as something of a mentor to some of the younger 
new girls) but much of our life is now, dare I say ordinary.

Yet it's those times walking with my babygirl, holding her hand 
and then drawing her into my waist and pulling her lips to mine 
that I rejoice at the miracle of it. The simple joy of being able 
to kiss Michelle passionately across the table at a restaurant, on 
a beach without looking over our shoulder. To be able to book in 
to a Hotel under Mr. and Mrs. Jordan...and mean it!

The simple miracle is that we get to enjoy this love, this life 
everyday, just a girl and her Dadda.

END
