Obscurum Intus: Patient Zero (c) Part 3 "The Hunger" By Fiction Writer #13 (paranormal, incest, father, daughter, M/f, teen, Fdom, Mdom, reluct, loli, voy) His knees ached more than he'd let on. His feet throbbed. The weather outside had been deteriorating all day, as had his comfort. The blonde weather lady on the ten o'clock news had just informed him of the impending snowfall when his wife crept into the periphery of his vision. She was already dressed for bed. Nothing special, nothing to get his blood pumping and his prick rising, just that same old worn out night gown she'd worn for what seemed like forever. There was nothing there worth the agony of leaving his recliner and mounting the stairs to their bedroom. "Her fever broke." Her voice revealed just how tired she was too, as if she'd fall asleep where she stood. "She's doing much better now." "Good." It was a struggle, but he managed to pull his eyes from the television long enough to look into her eyes as he spoke. "So, no need to drive to the emergency room then?" "Nope, you can take your boots off." She offered him a smile. "Don't stay up too late. The bed gets cold without you." It was nice for her to say, but he knew better than to bite at the bait. Even if he rushed up the stairs behind her, by the time it took him to shed his clothes she'd be curled up and snoring. "Not much longer, dear." He returned her sleepy smile. "Just want to catch the sports, maybe Leno's monologue at the latest." Wordlessly she turned and padded up the stairs, her slippers making a soft hushing sound on the carpet as she went. He groaned as he bent at the waist and began pulling the laces of his work boots free. He'd worn them since five in the morning, would have had them off by five in the evening if Deb hadn't come home sick. He knew better than to risk taking them off before knowing whether or not he'd be heading out again. His feet had swollen up throughout the day; a second attempt at confining them would have certainly failed. The boots fell to the floor with a dull thud. He thought about peeling his thick socks off, but decided against the extra effort that would require. The weather lady popped back onscreen before the news ended. The storm would be dropping about a half foot of snow on Highland. Not enough to shut anything down, but enough to make working just that much more painful. Still, it could have been worse. It was late for the first measurable snow of the year, the latest he could remember since moving to Highland twenty years ago. That first year had been a wake up call for the boy from Allentown Pennsyl- vania who thought he knew about working in snow. Three feet of snow in late September, with an additional two sprinkled on over the following week. He never thought he'd last up here, but then he'd found Doris, and he'd been here ever since. His thumb found the arrow button on the remote and began cycling through channels until he landed on the Daily Show. He remem- bered how he used to laugh out loud during this program, but hadn't in recent memory. It had nothing to do with the show not being funny anymore, it still was; he was the one who'd changed. He used to stay up late, much later than he could now. He remembered how in the beginning he'd stay up for Conan. Now he'd be lucky if he made it through the early news. He felt so old, too old; this was not the way a thirty-eight year old should feel. Very little made him laugh the way he used to. From the ceiling above he heard the bedsprings squeak as Doris settled in for the night. He'd been meaning to fix that, the bed squeak that is. Though the distance between he and his wife probably deserved to be on the top of his 'to do' list, he'd been put- ting that job off for years now. It hadn't always been like this. In the beginning of their marriage the bed springs squeaked for a much different reason, and more frequently. But then Doris got pregnant with Deb, and everything changed. Doris had always been a randy girl, much to George's delight, but childbirth had snuffed out the flames of her passion. She wasn't the only one to blame, and George understood that. Having a child meant he needed to take on more work, and he did. Unfortunately the extra hours spent swinging a hammer drew from him what little reserves of energy he had left. Construction had pro- vided him with a home, two cars, a decent amount of vacation time each year, and a nice little nest egg when it was time to retire. The problem was it also gave him two shot knees, a bad back, sore shoulders and elbows that ached no matter how much Aleve he popped. He often fell asleep in this recliner, his recliner. It was the only thing in the home he truly felt was his. His wife had done all of the furniture shopping, filled the house with knick-knacks and framed photos of important family events. What little space remained was confiscated by his daughter, Deb, who'd seen to it to occupy every nook and cranny with things she no longer wanted but couldn't bring herself to throw away. So it was, as it was for his own father, that he'd planted his only flag of ownership on the recliner. It was his little private island amid a sea of feminine taste and design. It wasn't much, but it did offer the best view in the whole house... the television. His eyelids felt heavy and slowly lowered till only his ears could enjoy the jokes told onscreen. If he didn't get up soon he'd fall asleep, which was fine by him, it certainly wouldn't have been the first time. Falling asleep in the recliner had become routine for him, just one of many things that had become routine in recent years. Routine of- fered comfort, and comfort was all he wanted any more. Anything that disrupted his comfort, his routine, was met with much annoyance and grumbling. The routine wasn't set in stone. He'd made adjustments to it over the years, adding something here, subtracting there, but they'd all been slow changes, not interruptions or disruptions. He loved his wife and daughter, but sometimes they just got on his fucking nerves with their requests and demands. Couldn't they see how tired he was? Didn't they know how exhausting working ten hours a day could be? He didn't ask for much, just to be left alone during his few hours off the job. One thing he hadn't changed, the one thing he most looked forward to at the end of each day, was peeking in on his daughter while she slept before retiring to bed himself. He complained a lot, mostly to himself, but he truly did love Deb. If everything else in his life was going to shit he could look at her and feel that it was worth it. She was his pride and joy, the best thing he'd ever had a part in con- structing in his life. Sometimes she'd made him feel so proud that tears would come to his eyes. She'd say things that made him laugh, cry, and wonder at the sheer brilliance of her reasoning. She was daddy's little girl, his princess, and even though she'd begun to rebel against her mother in just about every way, she still asked for daddy's permission first, much to his wife's ire. So, since she'd been brought home from the hospital all those years before, he'd slip into her doorway at night to look upon his little sleeping angel. It was his little reward to himself at the end of each hard fought day, his little reminder that 'it was worth it'. Afterwards he'd slip into his own bed and fall asleep, free of all the worries that seemed to nag at him constantly. It had always been a strictly fatherly thing, his peeking at night, that is until a few months ago. One night he slipped through her doorway and got the shock of his life... his little girl was growing up. It was a shock he wasn't prepared for, to see her lying there dressed in something he'd wished his wife would wear to bed. His heart had raced, his mind whirling with conflicting emotions. His eyes took in her beauty, an image that burned a permanent place in his memory. Her tanned skin, tiny but firm breasts, dark nipples barely seen through the sheer material of the lingerie she wore. Her long legs, the matching thong and exposed bum of his daughter made him sweat and sway with dizziness. She looked so much like his wife did when they'd first met, back when they'd fuck like there was no tomorrow, but she was just a little girl, his little girl, and yet... she was... He panicked. Ran from her room and locked himself in the bath- room until he could get his heart rate back down. A father shouldn't have such thoughts about his daughter. It was wrong. It was fucked up. And he swore to himself that it would never happen again, but the very next night he found himself at her door, and the hunger inside grew. He'd managed to keep his feelings in check for a while, but soon the beast within could not be content with just the late night snacks. He began to look upon Deb with new eyes, not those of a father, but one of a predator, and she was the prey. Innocent moments took on new and terrifying significance to him. Simple father daughter hugs made his heart stammer. Pecks on the cheek seemed to convey more need than love, at least in his mind. He fought to control these new and unwanted urges, but lost all hope when she and her friends came over to use the pool. He stood in the second floor bathroom, the door locked, the blinds closed save for the one raised barely an eighth an inch, just high enough for his greedy eye to spy on the adolescent flesh indecently on display below. His hand fisted his cock as if he were attempting to tear his weakness away from his body as he watched them dive and swim in the crystal clear water, their bathing suits hiding nothing the imagination couldn't readily fill in. Still, with all of those options of fantasy frolicking in the summer sun, his eyes had locked onto his own daughter's lithe figure, and it was to her he spilled his seed on the tile floor. It had been a losing battle ever since that day. Every night he went to her room, his mouth watering, his heart pounding so hard it deaf- ened him. He'd stare at her, his sleeping little angel, and his hunger would grow. Each night he'd move a little bit closer. Each night he'd linger a little bit longer. He hadn't touched her, but he wanted to. Oh how desperately he wanted to... needed to. The desperation in his mind drove his fantasies to bizarre areas. The need to sink his teeth into flesh became a recurring theme, though he truly had no desire to actually bite her. What he wanted was to take her, to impale her, to drive himself into her until she screamed out for him to stop... but he wouldn't... he couldn't... not until he was finished. These thoughts disturbed him as much as they aroused. Immedi- ately after relieving his frustration by his own hand he'd feel remorse for his thoughts, but the sadness he felt rarely lasted longer than it took to wipe the semen with toilet tissue. He'd splash water on his face, flush the toilet, and then go to bed. Routine. Today was anything but routine, and though George didn't realize this yet, he did know that something had changed. His little girl had come home sick, babbling about some boy and how much she loved him. It had infuriated him, and not just as a father looking out for his daughter, protecting her from all those dirty minded teen boys who wanted to get in her panties. No, he was pissed off for a much different reason... jealousy. He wanted her to feel that way about him, the same way he felt about her. He wanted her to feel that need, that desire, that voracious ap- petite for him and not some little punk. It was wrong to think that way, but he couldn't help it. He wanted to be her first, to break her in, to make her a woman, but he knew that was only a fantasy... and one that could never come true. "Daddy?" Sleep had nearly taken hold. He floated in that nether region be- tween dream and reality, but the sound of his daughter's voice pulled at him in a pleasing way. "Daddy? You awake?" His eyes fluttered open, the blue light of the television blindingly bright after the darkness. A figure stood between him and the TV light, a dark silhouette he couldn't identify. "I couldn't sleep, can I sit with you?" His eyes focused in the flickering video light. She stood there, his daughter, his angel. She was dressed for bed, not in what his wife had put on her, but the sexy babydoll nightie he'd grown so used to seeing her wear in secret. He was dreaming, he was certain of that. "Sure sweetie." The tip of his tongue licked his suddenly dry lips. "Hop up on Daddy's lap." Even in the dim light he could see her smile, but his eyes were more interested in the view of her breasts beneath the sheer fabric. His heart raced as she climbed into his lap and snuggled against his chest. His hand instinctively moved over her back, feeling the heat of her escaping into the air around them. "Ow." "What's wrong, Princess?" he said in a choked whisper. "Your jeans are rough and lumpy." 'What the hell, this is a dream after all,' he thought before saying, "I could take them off." "Could you?" "Anything for you, Princess." He kissed the top of her head before attempting to maneuver his hands down to his waist. "Here, let me help." She spoke sweetly as her fingers worked to re- lease his belt. He leaned back in the chair as she worked diligently. The belt free, she moved to the button holding his jeans closed. "Err... this is tough." "Let me do that..." "No, I got it." His waist suddenly felt the pressure relieved as his jeans became loose. Her fingers took hold of his zipper and pulled down, further removing the tightness. He felt her fingers graze over his cock as she struggled to get the zipper all the way down; the delicate sensa- tion was enough to make him jump within his boxers. Before he knew it she was out of his lap and standing by his feet, her hands grasping a pant cuff in each hand as she tugged his jeans down his legs. The cool night air felt refreshing, but also cued him to the fact that he wasn't dreaming. "There, that's better, isn't it?" she asked as she let his jeans drop to the floor. "Y... yes," he stuttered as he looked upon his daughter with eyes now wide awake. She smiled wickedly. "Do you like?" George's eyes nearly popped as she did a little twirl for him. "I got it last Spring, it makes me feel pretty." She cocked her head slightly to one side and put a hand on her hip. "Well?" George was dumbfounded. All he could manage was a rapid nod. "I thought you would," Deb giggled as her eyes traveled down to the large tent in his boxers. "Looks like you really like it." George blushed as his hands rushed to cover himself. "Deb, you... we..." She put a finger to her lips. "Shhh... mustn't wake Mommy. I don't think she'd like my nightie quite as much as you do." He watched in stunned fascination as his daughter climbed like a cat onto the raised footrest of the recliner, her legs and arms straddling his body as her eyes burned into his. "Deb... we can't do this..." She crawled slowly up him. "What, Daddy? What are we doing?" "Deb, stop this. You can't." "Can't what?" she purred as her face hovered over his hand covered crotch. "I can't sit in my Daddy's lap anymore? Why not? Aren't I still your little girl?" "Debbie, come on, don't do this. Please..." "Give me your hands." "What?" George hissed in a whisper. "No, stop this right now." "If you don't give me your hands," she warned with a knowing smirk, "I'll call Mom." "No. Stop it; get off of me right now." "Try me." He could see he wasn't getting out of this situation quite so easily. If Doris came down now there would be no explaining what was going on, she'd never believe him. He was screwed. As Deb dramatically opened her mouth to call out to her mother he relented. His hands left the lump in his shorts. "Good Daddy." She bit her lower lip as she grinned up at him victo- riously. She took both of his hands and raised them to her mouth. Her eyes closed as she slipped one of his long fingers between her lips. She suckled on his digit lightly before moving on to another, her hips gy- rating against his thighs as she hummed pleasantly. George sucked air in great gasps as she expertly and sensually simulated fellatio. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. After all the fantasies, after all the dark thoughts and dirty dreams, the one thing he'd wanted above all others was happening, and yet somehow it wasn't anything like he imagined. She was the one tak- ing, not him. She pulled his last finger out with a lip smacking pop before licking her lips. "Mmm... I need you to feel me, Daddy. Feel how big I've grown." George had no choice but to comply. She grasped his wrists and guided his hands to her waist. His palms made contact with the silky nightie and she sighed. She ran his hands over her stomach, which seemed to flutter under his touch. Over her ribs where his fingers could clearly make out where each bone protruded. She brought his hands up to her shoulders and used them to slip the thin straps holding up her nightie down. The top of the garment slid down her chest until only her hard nipples held the garment in place. As she guided his palms down she arched her back and gravity pulled the nightie free, exposing her tits completely. Both father and daughter gasped as one as his hands finally reached her still blossoming bosom. He would have preferred to be gentler with his exploration of her delicate mounds, but she seemed to enjoy a rougher touch. She made him squeeze and pinch harder and harder till she began to whimper. He tried to pull away, but she refused to let him go. "No," she gasped. "This is how he likes it." He'd no idea what she was talking about, nor did he really care. His cock was throbbing, his boxer's soaked through and sticky with pre- cum. His hunger was returning, his needs growing. He took control from her, his fingers finding her nipples and pinching so hard she squealed. He'd expected her to stop him but she didn't; instead she released his wrists and let him play with her tits as he wished. As he worked her breasts, raising a red tint to the normally white skin, her hands snaked down and wormed their way into his boxers. She took hold of his hard shaft and pulled it through the fly. George barely acknowledged the pain of being bent in half and handled so roughly, the feeling of his daughter's tiny hand stroking his cock trumped all such trivial sensations. She moved forward, his cock still in her hand. Her hips hovered over his stiff prick as she leaned forward, offering her tits up to his hungry mouth. His hands moved off to continue business elsewhere as he slipped a hard nipple between his lips and sucked hard. He felt her tense up as his teeth dug into the tender flesh. Her free hand moved to the back of his head and pressed him harder against her chest, forcing more of her breast into his mouth. She stroked him slowly but firmly, drawing up every drop of precum she could to lubricate his shaft. His hands slipped under her nightie to grasp her ass, his hands easily able to hold all of her tiny round cheek. He squeezed her hard, pulling her cheeks apart, his mind imagining what her asshole would look like under such strain. She moaned above him as her hips lowered another inch until the tip of his prick made contact with her slit. 'Little slut isn't even wearing panties.' George's mind reeled at the sensation of her fluids dribbled down over his prick. 'So wet too, she's so damn wet. I have to fuck her... I have to.' As if reading his thoughts she lined his shaft up with her opening and plunged down, fully impaling herself on him. Instantly she realized that this was a mistake and tried to raise herself off of him, but his hand held her down. She clawed at his back, tears streaming down her cheeks as she whimpered and pleaded with him to let her go. "Daddy... please... no... stop... it's too big..." Her desperate request was ignored; George was beyond being rea- soned with. He had her now, fully and completely. She belonged to him. "No, little girl. You wanted this, now you've got it." "But it hurtsss... please, Daddy... let me up..." "Not until you finish what you started." His hands let her rise up a bit, and for a moment she thought he was going to let her up, but then he jerked her back down. "Ouwie! No! Stop!" she begged in harsh whispers that only fed his need, his hunger. That's right... give it to her... make her feel how powerful you are... 'Damn straight. Gonna fuck this little bitch good. Show her why it's not a good idea to parade around the house in those skimpy fucking outfits all the time. Tightest pussy I've ever...' "Daddy, please." Again he let her up, only to slam her back down. "Owwww... You're hurting me, Daddy... Stop..." Take control, George... Take it back... You are her father, not her friend... "Gonna make you a woman tonight, baby. Daddy's little girl is all grown up." She's yours... Yours to do with as you please... He lifted her and dropped her down. When she tried to pull herself off again he slapped her bare backside so hard she drove herself back down onto him. "Don't try to do that again, you hear me?" Between soft sobs Debbie nodded. He grasped the hem of her nightie and lifted it up over her head so that now she was fully naked. "Now show Daddy that you are old enough to wear such slutty things as this. Fuck me. Go on... do it. Make your Daddy proud." Slowly she nodded and reluctantly began to move. George watched her face contort in pain as she lowered herself onto him, the relief that swept over her as she rose up once again. She moved slow, al- most mechanically. He slapped her ass. "Faster." She winced as his hand made contact, but complied. Up, down, up, down. Her whimpers came less and less, but she still clearly showed pain on her face. He slapped her ass again. "Faster." She jumped at the sudden sharp pain. Up, down, up, down. Sweat beaded on her forehead, but the tears had stopped flowing. "Faster!" His order came with yet another stinging blow to her rear. She rose and fell on him, her breath ragged, her heart thumping wildly under the effort. He watched as she fucked herself on him, watched as his thick shaft drove deep into his daughter's cunt, her lips stretched so wide it barely looked like a pussy at all. He felt hot, hotter than he'd ever felt before. He was roasting inside, sweat dripping down his chest. Without slowing her progress he pulled his sweatshirt over his head and tossed it to the floor, but he still burned with fever. Now they were both naked, naked and fucking in the living room with wild abandon. Gone were her tears and whimpering, replaced by ragged breaths and the occasional groan. George grunted his ap- proval in time with her downward plunges. Life couldn't get much better than this. You can have it all... Anything you desire... Anytime you de- sire it... He heard the voice in his head but believed it was his own. Join me... Take your place by my side... Surrender yourself to me... "Yesss..." he hissed through his teeth as his daughter began to quiver. Pledge yourself to me... And all your heart's desires will be your reward... "Oh fuck, that's it... fuck me... fuck me baby. Take all of Daddy's cock." Swear your loyalty and accept me as your daughter has... "Oh god, Debbie, you feel so fucking good. You're making Daddy feel so damn good." "Uhn... oh... Daddy... uh... I'm... I'm... tingling..." Join us... Say the words and take the power you crave... "Yes baby, cum for Daddy... cum on Daddy's big cock..." Say it... Speak the words... "I... I will..." "Do it Daddy... Say it for me... Say you'll join us... I need to cum so bad Daddy..." "Then do it baby, cum for Daddy." "I can't..." she whined. "He won't let me until you say the words..." "I..." Do it George... Free your daughter from her pain... Join with us for all eternity... Take the gift that I offer... Say the words... "I... I..." "Say it Daddy, pleeease..." "I... I swear!" Debbie's hands clutched at his hairy chest as her body convulsed as if she were being electrocuted. Her shriek of absolute bliss rang out in the living room as her cunt began squeezing George's cock. The sensation of his daughter's orgasm was too much for him to bear and his balls released their contents as he howled in pleasure. His seed fired in great shots deep into his daughter's waiting womb as she continued to writhe on his lap. Deb trembled before collapsing into her father's arms. He held her close as his prick continued to spill inside of her. She whispered breathlessly into his ear. "I... I can feel it Daddy... I can feel you inside of me... pulsing... filling me..." Tears ran down George's cheeks as the emotional impact of what he'd just experienced hit him full force. "I know Baby... I love you... Daddy loves you so much." "I love you too, Daddy." Deb squeezed her Kegel muscles, milking the last drops of sperm from her father. "And he loves you too." "What... who are you talking about, Baby?" "Nothing. You'll understand better when you wake up." "Wake up?" George chuckled. "How am I ever gonna be able to sleep again?" But even as he spoke the words his eyes began to feel heavy. He was burning up inside, sick with a fever, and sleep was something he just wasn't strong enough to keep at bay for much longer. As he be- gan to drift off, he could hear his daughter speaking softly into his ear. "Don't be afraid, Daddy. He needs us, and we need him." He wanted to ask her what she was talking about, but he couldn't find his voice in the deepening darkness that enveloped him. He could still hear her voice as he tumbled away. "He says it will be much easier now. His influence grows with every soul we bring to his cause. Soon we won't even need permission. We'll just take them, make them join us." The sound of her faded away... "We'll never be alone in the darkness again." Continued in Part Four "The Need".... You can find more of my stories at: https://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Moments_In_My_Mind/www/Index.html Join my forum and I'll send you an email notification of when I update my stories: http://fw13.suddenlaunch3.com/index.cgi Read what I've been up to on my Blog: http://fictionwriter13.blogspot.com Feedback, Questions or Comments can be sent here: FictionWriter13@msn.comOI- Patient Zero- 3 The Hunger