*Author's note: Sorry for taking so long with this chapter. I've had less time to write, but I promise I'm still invested in this story and will see it through until the end, however long it takes. I have plenty of plans for Melody's life still. Please comment or email me your thoughts. I greatly enjoy hearing from readers.*
Carl Ainsley, 56, peeked around the living room of his apartment one more time as he returned to his bedroom, even though he knew he was alone. His girlfriend worked overnight at the hospital, and wouldn't be home for hours. Still, he always had to compulsively check, over and over, during these sessions. Sessions that were, to his shame, becoming more and more frequent. It gave him enormous guilt and disgust at himself, but he couldn't help it. Ever since he'd given in to that first dark impulse to look, the compulsion had only grown stronger with time.
He sat back down at his computer and turned the monitor back on. He pulled the window back up. There she was, his daughter, taking more strange dick in some hotel in Boston, on an HD livestream. The blood instantly surged back into his penis, hardening him quickly and fully as this always did. Some guy was fucking her reverse cowgirl, her legs spread so the camera could see all the action. A thick, white lather of her own cream had been seeping out of her pussy for the last couple guys, coating her whole groin, the bottoms of her asscheeks, and her inner thighs halfway to her knees. It was also covering the guy beneath her's dick and ballsack, but he didn't even seem to care. A second guy approached from the front, rubbed his cock all over the mess spread around her vulva, and then used this goop to easily join the other cock already in her pussy, sliding in and double stuffing her cunt with ease. He didn't last long. Within a minute he'd pulled out and shot his load onto the mess of girl cum and semen already layered thick over her labia. He was soon replaced by another guy. His precious daughter, being treated worse than the lowest whore.
Carl would, of course, kill himself if anyone ever found out he watched this stuff. What a failure of a father he was. First, for raising the type of daughter that would allow herself, even reluctantly, to reach the depths of depravity she had. Second, for allowing himself to give into the sick taboo of pleasuring himself to her shame and exploitation. Already he had cum twice today while watching this horrific display, and he knew he would do so at least a third time. He always felt intense self-loathing even as he began ejaculating, but within a couple minutes would find himself drawn right back to it.
He and Melody's mother had already been divorced for years, but he imagined that if they hadn't been prior to this debacle, it would have driven them to it. He was just grateful he no longer lived in Spokane. Everyone in their community knew. All the males probably watched the footage, if not joined directly in the spectacle. Even here in Atlanta most of his friends and coworkers had heard about "the thing with Carl's daughter," but at least they hadn't ever personally known her. They of course had the sense to never bring it up to him.
But still, they knew. Some of them were probably watching this alongside him right now. It sickened him, it infuriated him, but it turned him on like nothing in his life ever had before. He didn't know why. He'd always been a normal father, he thought. He'd loved his daughter and treated her well and never had any kind of inappropriate thoughts about her. He'd been a normal man, up until the thing happened. Up until the world had decided to make his daughter its great whore.
He'd managed to avoid looking at the footage for months after it first happened. He'd had the normal reaction of despair, disgust, disappointment, and anger. He had fallen into a depression. His daughter was basically dead to him. He couldn't look people in the eye.
Then he'd had to return to Spokane for his son's highschool graduation. It had been like attending a funeral. People seemed to try to avoid making eye contact with him, acting like they hadn't noticed him. No one wanted to try to make small talk like that, not with the huge elephant in the room. It had been a nightmare. Then, as he'd gone to the restroom at the venue, he saw a piece of paper taped up on the wall in the stall. It was a picture of Melody's face, covered in cum, her driver's license stuck to her forehead. Under it the words: "Melody Ann Ainsley, RHS alumni." Below this there was a URL.
Carl had ripped it down and thrown it away, but the URL was simple, and he hadn't been able to forget it. MELODYWEBS.LUT. He tried not to think about it, but the URL kept popping up in his head, accompanied by that incredibly explicit and degrading photo of his daughter. He managed to stave off his curiosity for a week after returning to Atlanta, but finally, when he had a day off to himself, alone, he caved.
That one site led him down a rabbit hole into the amazingly widespread network of sites dedicated to humiliating, documenting, and degrading his daughter. He was baffled at how many creeps were invested in her story. Forums, message boards. He explored all of them for months, unable to help himself. At first he told himself that he was somehow doing research, trying to help his daughter, but it became increasingly impossible to convince himself that it didn't just turn him on. Seeing his baby girl turned out, exploited, made into an international slut sensation.
Spurred on by the incredible taboo of it, he became obsessed. Anytime he had alone time, he was trawling the forums, the sites, following every morsel of news about her. He'd seen all the videos, all the pictures, every inch of his daughter's body, even the insides of the good parts, in shocking detail. He had seen entire forum threads dedicated to discussing the details of her anus, and other equally specific topics (he'd come to learn that his daughter's sphincter had 36 wrinkles and ridges around its circumference, including one larger, more prominent fold on the side closest to her taint).
He'd soon consumed every bit of Melody content on the web, and eagerly waited for more, always disgusted with himself for doing so. He watched as people auctioned off items taken from her apartment, selling the most mundane of her personal belongings. Her used panties went for the most, usually. The prized object though was her whole scalp's worth of red hair that had been shaved off and taken from her during her first gangbang. Someone had taken it and stored it in a vacuum-sealed bag, and some other guy ended up buying it for over $2,000. Carl could only imagine what he intended to do with it.
And so his greatest shame in life, the complete and public sexual depravity of his daughter, became his darkest thrill. The first time he allowed himself to finally masturbate to one of the videos, he was baffled by how satisfying and explosive his orgasm was. He hadn't cum like that in years. Seeing his daughter, his proper, somewhat shy daughter, a girl who'd always been too timid to even wear a bikini in public, outed like this...it was too much to handle. Of course he was completely horrified at himself as soon as he ejaculated. But it had been too good. He was hooked.
It dominated his thoughts. Whenever he fucked his girlfriend he couldn't help but pretend that she was Melody, that he was the 80th guy in line to bust in her sloppy cunt in the back room of some bar. In his private sessions when he was alone, at his horniest, he would concoct crazy ideas of actually traveling to wherever she was and actually joining in the next time she was roped into one of these crazy orgies. He could wear a mask, she would never have to know it was him. When this Kevin asshole was announcing his plans for the current event in Boston, Carl had very briefly considered traveling up there, under the guise of traveling for work, and participating. As soon as he jerked off though he immediately threw the idea away. It was too risky, not to mention heinous. He knew what he should really do is contact his daughter and warn her about what this guy was planning. But he couldn't, of course, even if he wanted to. He no longer had her phone number or any way of contacting her.
So he watched with everyone else. He couldn't believe that assholes like Mr. Eckersley and Mr. Black openly participated in this, barely even trying to conceal who they were. He had vague memories of how much Melody hated them as teachers back in high school. And now look what they were doing to her.
Every day when he checked his email there were a handful of new messages from anonymous internet people, taunting him with images of his daughter gargling a mouthful of cum, or getting triple penetrated, or smiling shell-shocked at the camera while a speculum forced apart the walls of her inner vagina, revealing her cervix. It hadn't really taken them too long to find his info. They were usually accompanied with messages like "Proud of your daughter, Mr. Ainsley??" Little did they know these pictures and taunts only served to deepen his sick fascination and thrill.
He had failed to protect his daughter. Failed to protect her from...whatever this was. From herself, perhaps. Or whoever pressured her to become like this. He couldn't believe she had chosen this path totally of her own free will. He'd seen her initial application to the gangbang service, but even that had seemed strange. Something about it had been...off. And of course the ongoing events were strange, regardless of her well-known public declarations of herself as an eternal cocksleeve. It didn't all really add up.
But it didn't really matter now. She was utterly ruined. How could he even bring himself to look her in the eyes again, if ever they met? Knowing that she knew he knew about it all. Probably wondering in the back of her mind if he'd ever seen any of the footage. Hopefully never guessing how familiar he was with all of it.
He watched his daughter take the 400th dick of her life, then the 401st. Was there a more colossal way to fail as a father? It was every father's worst nightmare come true.
So why couldn't he stop cumming over it?
He watched dick 406 vacate Melody's ass, then watched her fart out a thick pearl of cum. Her slick holes looked so broken in, so easy and inviting. He imagined for the millionth time how satisfying it would be to fill them.
In another tab he pulled up the forum comments again, looking at the stuff Melody's online fans had to say about this escapade. It was the most exciting thing that had happened to their girl since she first gained her notoriety. Hundreds of comments, still pouring in, discussing his daughter and her body in the most vile ways. Why did he get such excitement from these comments? Why did he frequently join them?
"Don't let the whore forget about all the filled condoms in the fridge," he saw himself type. "She still has to empty every one of those into her mouth for us." Even as he clicked to submit the comment he hated himself for writing it.
He had seen his girl subjected to the worst sexual exploits imaginable. Seen her face covered in semen until she was unrecognizable, seen her drinks pints of strangers' piss, seen collages of her at her highschool graduation juxtaposed next to an image of her birth canal being gaped open, the views in the millions. He had seen her reduced to nothing, and then seen her dignity and hope slowly restored as she thought she had outrun it. Had seen it all torn down again at the moment of her greatest hope. Just when she thought she had overcome her terrible mistake. Why was her helplessness and exploitation so electrifying to him, at the same time that it angered and horrified him?
All he could do was turn the anger into this warped lust. If I can't help her or undo any of this, then I should get to enjoy her too. He knew the logic was mixed up.
Eventually they seemed to be taking a break, giving Melody a chance to rest. Carl ejaculated one more time to the sight of his daughter laying on her back panting, covered in sweat and cum, exhausted from taking dick in every opening of her body. He exited out of everything and shut the computer down. His girlfriend would be home before things started back up. He hated that he wouldn't be able to watch the rest of the party live, but he knew all the footage would be recorded and widely available afterward. He knew he'd watch every second of it later.
He always did.
*
In her dream, Melody was lying on the altar at her own wedding, her white dress hiked up around her waist, while one of the groomsmen lay between her legs, fucking her in front of all of the guests who watched from their seats. The other groomsmen were standing in line behind him, waiting. Her parents watched with disapproval from the crowd, along with the rest of her family and her old friends. Kevin looked on from behind the altar, a bashful grin on his face.
"Don't worry," Kevin told the congregation. "You'll all get a turn after them." The groomsman inside of her kept thrusting, shaking her whole body. She halfway realized she was dreaming. But the sex felt so real.
She opened her eyes with an effort. Some sweaty stranger was on top of her in the hotel bed, looking down at her and panting, and she suddenly realized that the fucking actually was real. He'd obviously been going at it for some time, because within seconds of her opening her eyes he began raggedly moaning, and then she felt his hot seed filling her up.
