This story is a work of fiction based on role play fantasy. The characters and situations in this story are not real.
This story is the sequel to "Lessons from Daddy Ch.1, 2, and 3". I feel it necessary to make a short comment before I begin. These pieces are from my imagination. I do not feel bad about what comes to my mind. If you find this story, and other I wrote or will write, offensive, you are well within your right to navigate to a different story. Some comments from Ch. 1 reflected thoughts that I have a sick imagination. To that I simply say, yes I do, and thank-you for the compliment. I am thrilled to have a venue to share some of my ideas, thoughts, and stories.
This will be the final Chapter in this series. Please watch for other stories in the new future.
B
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Chapter 4
I cried all the way to the truck, the whole drive home and most of that night. I couldn't believe what had happened. My Daddy was never like this. He was always the most gentle and loving man. I tried to rationalize why he would hurt me like he did, and why he was being like this. Did I truly do something bad, or had my Daddy simply lost his mind? Had he had a moment of temporary insanity? I didn't question his rational, his reasoning or probe him as to what the source of everything that had happened that day. I simply did as I was told, like a numb little toy doll. I showered when we got home, and slept in his bed, as he instructed, curled against the wall and tried to sleep.
I said nothing to him that next morning as we got up. I quickly dressed in my baggiest and least flattering outfit. The sweater was two sizes too large and the sweat pants looked like they had been handed down for two generations. They were worn, stained, and in my opinion, safe from more of the same accusations Daddy stabbed me with yesterday.
Daddy didn't say much to me that day either. We loaded his few possessions into his truck, picked up my stuff from Mom's house, and spent the remainder of the weekend moving and settling into the new house. The little building that he was able to acquire was nothing like what I had pictured it was going to be. I pictured a quaint little two bedroom house, small yard, picket fence, and close to schools and shopping. It was far from that perfect little picture. The house was small, very small. It was a worn down one bedroom 800 square foot house. It stood in the middle of a barren lot, a good 10 to 15 minute drive to town. The only building between us and the neighbors, that were easily a mile away or more, was a worn down barn. The whole property had a foreboding atmosphere to it. I felt defeated, and at that moment I knew the man I thought I knew, was actually nothing like the man I thought I knew when I was growing up. I was in this situation, and deep in my soul I knew there was no getting out of it. The only solution was to find a way to survive it all, and pray that it would get better rather than worse.
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She was quiet the morning after I so brutally had my way with that sweet little ass of hers. It was so difficult to pretend to be angry at her when I enjoyed the feel of that sweet virgin ass around my big dick. The way its tightness milked my cock was all I could do to bark out angry words rather than bellow in delight the way I wanted to. She loved it too. I could tell. A girl that doesn't want to be fucked by her Daddy, doesn't leave a puddle of cum on the floor and soak her pants. She wanted it, and I could tell by the way she relaxed into my drilling cock.
I was curious though as to her choice of clothing that next morning. The baggy sweater and well-worn pants were far from flattering. That left no room for me to further discipline her. I decided to not make waves for a few days and let the dust lie. We spent most of that first weekend in the new house in quiet. I said little to her, and she said even less to me. She spoke when spoken too, and said as little as necessary. She also tried hard to avoid me, but in a house this small, that wasn't easy to do. The nights were my favorite part of the day. Getting to spend them with her sleeping beside me, even though it was with her onesie flannels on and curled on the edge of her side of the bed, was the first step in what I have wanted for so long. It was best to let her relax a little, and settle in before I pushed things too far. She graduates in a few weeks and I will have more time to mold her and show her that she loves her Daddy as much as he loves her.
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The next few weeks were uneventful. For this I was glad. Daddy did make it clear that he was the only one that was going to be getting me to and from school. I didn't argue. My goal was to maintain the peace, to feel Daddy out, and to figure out all those mixed feelings from that one horrible night. Though Daddy had seemed a little more relaxed than he did that fateful Friday night, he didn't quite settle back into himself.
Shortly after we settled into the house, Daddy burned all of the onesie pajamas and old baggy sweat pants and sweaters. They had become the one bit of hope I had that he wasn't going to touch me the way he did that night. Then one morning when I went to get dressed for school, all the panties in my underwear drawer were missing. It almost seemed like Daddy wanted me to dress like the slut he accused me of being. I never questioned, never mentioned the missing underpants, and never, ever, made waves about it all. I just adapted. I was liking how it felt to walk around in those tight jeans, the short skirts, and the tops so tight that the buttons and fabric strain against my miniature melons. I was beginning to feel sexier, and more confident. I also noticed that Daddy was watching my every move. His eyes full of lust and desire. It was becoming more and more clear to me that this whole situation was something he had been planning for a very long time. What I had yet to discover was not only how long he had these feelings for me, but also why I was beginning to love how he looked at me. I wanted more and more for him to touch me again.
By the weekend of grad, Daddy had lost all subtlety about his glances my way, and I had lost all care that he was doing it. He was beginning to make little caresses, and little touches as we passed in the house. We had begun to cuddle on the couch when watching TV at night. I never asked to go to grad. By this point, it was neither something I wanted or cared to do. Daddy and I had settled into a quiet, comfortable motion, and for that, I was glad. The Friday after graduation Daddy sent me to town with my best friend. He booked us an appointment at the salon and we spent the day being washed, waxed, pampered and beautified. I thought it odd that he let me out of his sight for so long in one day when the last several weeks I was forbidden to go anywhere without him, school being the only exception. When I got home, the house was dark, the rugged old barn door stood partially ajar, soft lights lingered from within its crooked shadows. I shrugged and let myself in the house, locking the door behind me.
After storing my purse and sweater, I headed to the bedroom to get myself comfortable. When I turned on the light there was a small piece of lingerie laying on the bed with a note that read:
Alia;
Tonight will be your FINAL lesson.
You WILL put this on and come out to the barn.
I will be waiting.
DON'T DAWDLE!
Daddy
My heart skipped a beat. I carefully picked up the very tiny garment. It was perfectly sculpted with black lace, dotted with small bits of pink silk only across the bust. I took a deep breath as my hands trembled around the tiny garment. I quickly moved and took off my snug jeans and tight t-shirt. I slowly slid each leg into the lacy holes astride the crotch of the garment, carefully tucked each small breast into the pink silk bust. Carefully I slid each foot into the black silk thigh high stockings that remained on the bed, and clipped them with the straps that hung from the legs towards the knees, stepped into the stilettos and carefully made my way out to the barn.
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