This story involves the forced – yet ultimately embraced – sex between a father and daughter. If you do not like these types of stories... please move on to something you do like. However if such stories are something you appreciate – realizing they are mere fiction and fantasy – please enjoy.
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Jenny lay where her daddy had left her; atop her bed with her legs hanging over the edge and her feet dangling. The only pieces of her clothing that weren't in disarray or destroyed were her black shoes and white, knee-high socks. Her school uniform's skirt was piled up around her waist, exposing her torn white panties and wet, used sex with its glistening pink lips. Her white blouse lay open, her destroyed bra letting her full B-cup breasts roll free upon her chest with her breaths. Her naturally beautiful features were flush as she lay there, absently nibbling at her lip.
Her father had told her not to move, so she didn't. Except to wipe at a few tears slipping from her dark eyes to run down her cheeks.
Her body might have been still, but her mind was not.
It kept thinking about what had happened . . . trying to understand it . . . and what it all meant going forward.
After she'd been caught giving a boy head at school, her father had been summoned from work and told of her indiscretion. He'd been upset. Which he had a right to be.
And he'd spanked her.
All of that made sense. Even if she didn't like it.
But what didn't make sense was how her body had responded to the spanking . . . and how her father had reacted.
She'd gotten aroused. Her panties had grown wet.
And he'd fucked her.
Not only had he fucked her, he'd done so with primal, animalistic passion. He'd taken her forcibly . . . taken her for his pleasure. All the while calling her filthy, obscene names.
And she'd loved it. She'd had her strongest orgasm ever, her body writhing and thrashing in rapturous ecstasy like never before.
True, at barely eighteen, she hadn't had a lot of orgasms. But she knew the difference between what usually happened with the boys from school and what had with her father.
She hadn't wanted it . . . had tried denying her body's desire . . . its craving to have him inside her. Her mind had reeled with the taboo of it . . . the impropriety of it. Or so she'd told herself at the time. But recalling how she'd responded, she started to question her conviction.
She had no idea how long she laid there thinking about this, only that her legs were starting to fall asleep before she heard his footsteps coming down the hall. Then he was in her room, a bottle of whiskey in one hand, two glasses in the other. Still in his slacks and open dress shirt, he smiled when he saw that she was right where he'd left her.
"You need to use the bathroom?" He asked.
Looking up, Jenny meekly nodded.
"Go." He jerked his head in the direction of the doorway and the hall bathroom.
Climbing off the bed, she headed across the room on weak legs. In the bathroom she considered removing her torn panties. But he hadn't told her she could, so she decided to leave them on. Looking in the mirror, she saw that her tears had messed up her eyeshadow and a few hairs had come loose from her long braids.
Returning to her room, she found him standing near her dresser. He'd set the bottle on it and held a glass in each hand, a couple fingers of amber liquid in both.
"Considering everything, I think you should now drink in front of me, instead of behind my back," he said, offering her one of the glasses.
He knows? Her eyes grew wide with surprise.
"Yes, Jenny, I know you've been takin' some of my whiskey," he grinned. "It wasn't much, so it wasn't a big deal, I figured it was just a part of bein' eighteen. I've also known about... the other things. Not specifics, just that you were sexually active. I also figured that was just part of bein' eighteen. Obviously it was a little more... elaborate than I thought. I just hope I didn't misjudge the drinking too." He raised a curious eyebrow at her.
"No, Daddy. It was just a few sips here and there," she told him with a shake of her head. "A couple of beers when I was out with some of the..." She let the sentence trail off, not wanting to mention who she'd been out with.
"Well, like I said," he lifted his glass in a salute, then put it to his lips and took a sip.
Jenny did the same.
They stood in silence for a few minutes, sipping at their drinks and looking at one another. Having reverted to being his mindful daughter, Jenny stood directly in front of him, with her eyes raised. Yet she was finding that standing before him in her disheveled clothes made it difficult to meet his gaze directly. The wrinkled skirt had fallen to hide her torn panties, but she could feel the loose material brushing against her inner thigh, and she was conscious of the way the destroyed cups of her bra left her breasts on display.
Finishing his drink, he set his glass on the dresser. With a look and a movement of his head he indicated that she was to do the same.
Jenny's mind shifted into overdrive, wondering what his next intentions were. And while it screamed with objections to what she suspected, her body tingled with the possibilities. The inner turmoil made her hand shake slightly as she obediently finished her drink and added the empty glass to the dresser.
"So, you like giving head, do ya," he said, removing his shirt and tossing it aside.
It wasn't a question.
"Daddy, I–," she started. Although she wasn't sure what she would say, she now believed she knew his intentions and the inner turmoil escalated. She enjoyed sucking cock . . . the sensation of a rigid shaft sliding along her lips, caressing the little nerve-endings. And the thought of pleasuring him with her mouth intensified the excited tingles racing along her nerves while her mind simultaneously asserted its protest, reminding her that daughters weren't supposed to do that for their fathers.
"Quiet," he interrupted her, his voice low and unyielding. "I wanna see just how good you are at suckin' cock, so get on your knees... Slut."
Frozen by the inner struggle, Jenny's fingers fidgeted with her skirt's hem.
"I said 'on your knees, Slut.' It's time for you to suck your daddy's cock," he growled, his hand snapping out to grab her arm and jerk her downward.
"Daddy, no," she nearly yelped as she was forced to her knees before him. Staring at the outline of his cock beneath his clothes sent a warmth flowing through her to tease the smoldering embers within her loins and she unconsciously licked her lips. But her mind continued its objections, momentarily overriding her body's desire and she raised her dark eyes to his, silently pleading with him not to make her do this.
"Undo my pants," he told her, ignoring the plea.
