She Always Was an Unusual Girl

Thanks for all the comments from last chapter. This was only going to be a one-chapter story, but you convinced me to do a second! I think perhaps next story will be with new characters. Hope you enjoy!

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I woke up slowly, blissfully content wallowing in the brain-fog caused by leftover sleep. I thought hazily to myself that I couldn't remember being this relaxed in a long time, haven't felt a sleep that relaxing or deep as the one I was lazily surfacing from. My mind wandered quite aimlessly, trying to put off coming to total wakefulness as long as possible. There was a dream, I think, the details dancing out of my reach. My daughter, my sweet little Madeline, was in in, making me happy...

Suddenly I was awake, sitting bolt upright in bed. Madeline. She had come in last night, soon after I went to bed, chained me up and took advantage of me. Sort of. While I was quite unwilling (or as unwilling as a man can be with a girl bouncing up and down on his cock can be), she claimed that she did it all for my benefit, and I had no reason to disbelieve her. It was an odd thing to do, but she always was an unusual child.

I groaned and swung my legs to the floor. I couldn't believe that I had just crashed to sleep like that. I should have been tossing and turning all night with the guilt of it all, but perhaps Madeline was right when she said that she could cure my stress. I put my head in my hands, and thought, no, I really can't put a positive spin on this. I had sex with my daughter last night, and despite how unwilling I was, I still came up into her, and it was wrong, it was immoral, it felt great...

I cut off my thoughts and stormed into the on suite bathroom, and into the shower. I stood under the scalding hot water, trying to wash away what I had done last night. Gods, how could I face her today? What would I say? Should I yell at her? Kick her out? Lecture her? Briefly I had a vision of her sliding opening the door of the shower behind me, pressing her lean body against me, reaching around to grab me...

I cut that thought off quickly, but it kept resurfacing. I angrily shut off the water and quickly and ineffectually towelled off. A little voice in the back of my head said, "Are you angry that you are having these thoughts, or upset she has not come in yet?" I stormed back into my room and got hastily dressed in some casual clothes. It was Saturday. At least I could have the weekend to get my life back to being normal.

I reluctantly walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. I paused when I saw my daughter with her back to me. On their own accord, my eyes travelled up and down her body that I could see around the chair. Her body was fantastic -- I remember hearing something about her working out. Did she do that for me? She was wearing the same robe that I first saw her in last night and my rebellious brain defiantly wondered if she was still wearing that sexy lingerie below it.

My confused thoughts were interrupted by Madeline turning to face me. Her hair was still in its ponytail, she still wore her glasses. I had never realised how pretty she was before all this happened, especially when her face lit up with a smile, as it did now.

"Morning, daddy!" She still called me daddy, despite her having just turned 18. "Sit down, have some cereal. Are you up for doing the gardening today? We really have to tackle that lawn, and the roses certainly need pruning, and..." Madeline kept talking, happily chatting away as she did every morning. Was she not thinking of last night? Did it mean nothing to her? She seemed perfectly fine, except perhaps a little happier than normal.

"Madeline..." I began, but was not sure where to begin.

"Yes, daddy?

"About last night... We... You... It..." I stumbled around, praying that some sentence would magically pour out of my mouth.

"Oh, don't worry about that. That was merely me relieving your stress and giving your pent-up sexual needs a long-overdue release. We are still daddy and daughter, we don't need to change our relationship, just for that!"

She beamed at me, and I stared at her. To her it seemed like she had helped me with the shopping, or cleaning the car. She read nothing into it at all. I sighed and made a decision.

"Okay, but seriously? No more chaining me to the bed and forcing yourself on me, okay? We really shouldn't do that."

"No probs, old man!" she said, still smiling. "This was a once-off stress killer, we are family, and we can't just do it for fun, no matter how fantastic it felt!"

I hesitated at this. Time to move on. "Watch it with the old man cracks, okay?" and pretended to attempt to swat her, which she ducked away from, laughing.

Life pretty much turned back to normal. I got on with my work, and Madeline continued with her college studies, studying advanced science. There was no more talk of that night, and everything was back to the way it was.

Almost.

I felt happier and more relaxed than I had for ages. I decided that I really should be looking for someone, a nice lady who I could get intimate with and who will make me feel this good regularly. Also, and a little less pleasingly, I kept catching myself checking my daughter out. For the first time I could see her wonderful figure disguised well by her baggy out-of-fashion clothes. I kept glancing up as she bent over the table in front of me to be met with a sight of her cleavage. Or walking in the room as she was bending over to pick something up, her perfect ass screaming to be held...

But she was my daughter, and I was stronger than that.

And then I noticed things going subtly wrong. Madeline kept shutting herself in her room for long periods of time with the door shut -- not something she usually did. I kept catching her with a frown on her face, as if she was considering a problem, her teeth biting her lip. She began to groom herself even less than usual, skipping more showers, leaving her hair tangled and unkempt. It was harder and harder to draw her into conversations. While this in itself was not too unusual if she was engrossed in a project, such as her taxidermy course (don't ask -- I said she was unusual), she seemed more tense and withdrawn than usual.

Finally I could bear it no more. I sat her down at the kitchen table across from me, and started simple, preparing my big guns for later if I needed them.

"Maddy," I only ever called her this when I was worried about her, "what's wrong?" Well, that was all it took. Suddenly my daughter was in my arms crying into my shoulder. I sat there in shock, just patting her shoulder. "Is this about that night where you..."

"No, daddy, I told you, that was nothing," she managed to get out between sobs. She then continued her cry. I let her go through it, her tears and drool seeping through my shirt, and my ears stinging with empathetic tears of my own.

Finally she settled enough to talk. "It's my course at college. It isn't going so well. My mice are not responding in the way I hoped they would to the trials. It looks as if I may need to scrap the lot and start again, I may have wasted most of a year!"

Her look was of complete misery, and I saw her as my little girl, crying due to some tiny slight. I smiled and put my hand under her chin, my thumb stroking her cheek.

"My princess. My little princess. You need to talk about these things. It is going to be okay, I am sure you can work something out with your supervisor!"

She sighed. "No, she was the one who first suggested scrapping the experiment."

"Oh," I said, weakly. I held her tight, rocking her slightly as if she was still a young girl. I felt her body warm against mine, but my fatherly instincts were too much to make the feeling sexual. "Well, you know I am here for you, don't you, princess? I will do anything for you that you need. Anything at all. You just have to ask."

"Thank you daddy," she said, and without another word she stood up and walked from the room. I heard her blowing her nose in another part of the house and I let out a deep breath. Phew. I was worried it was drugs, or some boy, or some post-traumatic guilt... I suppose in part it could be that last one. But she brought that on herself, and at least now she can see the consequences of her actions, and maybe she won't do anything that... wrong again.

She walked back into the room, her eyes still red and puffy from crying, but otherwise she seemed better, happier somehow. She must have gotten a big load off her chest, I thought. She held out her hands and dropped something into my hands. Or should I say two somethings.

They were the handcuffs she used on me that night.

I dropped them as if they were on fire and let out a shout. "What am I meant to do with these?!"

Her face looked confused and upset. "But you said you would do ANYTHING for me!"

"Not that! I'm not about to handcuff myself to the bed again!"

She suddenly let out a laugh, and I relaxed slightly. Perhaps this was just a perverse joke at my expense. "Don't be silly, daddy!" she said. "I'm the one feeling stressed now! You need to handcuff ME to the bed!"

My jaw dropped. I stared at her. My whole body went numb. I could hear my own blood pounding through my veins. "Hon, we said we couldn't do that again..."

"No, I promised I wouldn't handcuff you to the bed without your permission. I NEED this. I have tried everything to relax. I have even resorted to a couple of adult toys, but nothing helps. I just know that I need to feel that release I felt last time, when I was on top of you. I never felt that good before."

I was speechless. My own daughter was asking me to handcuff her to the bed and have sex with her? What had happened to the world I lived in?

"I... I... I can't"

"Please, daddy! I need this!"

"No, Madeline, and that is final. No, no more conversation, this is over."

She looked ready to shout at me, but instead just snatched up the cuffs and stormed from the room. I had never seem her this mad at me before. But she will get over it, I was sure of it.

But she didn't. Not that day, and not the next. She got worse, I began to hear her crying at night in bed. It broke my heart, but surely I couldn't do what she asked of me.

She began to withdraw from me, and I began to truly fear that I would lose her. But still I couldn't bring myself to do what she needed. I tried everything else, from talking to her to trying to get her to see a professional, but nothing worked.

Then one day I heard her calling out for me from her room. I rushed in, to see a sight I had seen only once before. She was wearing the same set of matching pink panties and bra set, trimmed with black lace, complete with suspenders and stockings. She had also managed to cuff herself to her bed head, and was looking up at me with sad, desperate eyes, that were still moist from some recent tears.

I felt my whole world was ripped apart. What was I to do? Sleep with my only daughter, or risk losing her forever? How did it come to this?

I hesitated, indecision tearing through me like a chainsaw.

He looked at me with her big green, wide eyes and whispered, "Please..."

I made my decision. A quick glance around and I located the key to the handcuffs. I unlocked them one after the other. Madeline brought her hands to her face and let out a sob. I took her wrists and pulled them from her face, took her cheeks in my hands and gently placed a chaste kiss on her lips. I looked deep into her eyes, as her eyes as she looked with slight confusion into mine. I rolled to one side so I had one arm free, the other slipped under her head to cradle her head. My free arm slipped down her body, down her cheek, brushing against her throat. My fingertips danced over her collarbone, then trailed down over her breasts, at which she gasped, and closed her eyes tightly. I toyed with the idea of playing with her fairly large breasts (about a C cup, round and perky), but that felt wrong. This was about relieving stress, this wasn't about romance or joy (so I kept telling myself).

My hand travelled lower, fingers tickling over her ribs, down her toned stomach (not as toned as before -- damn her depression keeping her from the gym) and against her abdomen. I slipped my fingers over her garter belt, before trailing along the black lace of her panties.

This was it. This was the time I could walk away, try to think of some way of cheering her up that wasn't so taboo...

My fingers lifted over the lace and settled on the silk, and Madeline let out a little involuntary, "Oh!" I began to trace her pussy along the pink silk. I could feel that she had shaved herself again. The silk felt hot and dry as I began to work little circles along the material. Madeline began to breathe a bit harder, her breath catching at irregular intervals as I tweaked sensitive spots. Her knees rose and her knees fell open to make more room for my exploring fingers, just teasing along, getting her ready for what came next.

When I began to feel a small patch of moisture appear under her fingers, I stepped up the plan. I slipped my fingers under her waistband, and slid the panties just over her hips, which was as far as I could reach from my position. Madeline drew her legs up, pulled the panties up and off over her feet, and tossed them urgently to the floor (I noticed she had put her panties over her suspenders this time). Before I could move she had grabbed my hand and jammed it back over her pussy, breath short in anticipation of what was coming. I smiled, and looked down at her as her eyes flickered open and she half grinned at me, concentrating on my fingers. The smile dropped instantly when my finger gently parted her pussy lips and started sliding up and down her slit.

Madeline let out a little whimper, and arched her back slightly. The look of concentration on her face was beautiful, and I resisted the urge to kiss her like a lover. This was about stress relief, I reminded myself.

I worked my finger up and down in a slow, regular rhythm. Madeline had one hand over mine, the other locked with a handful of sheet over her head. I parted her lips further and slip a finger into her. She let out a deep groan and pressed her pussy into my hand. I slid in an out, soon sliding in a second finger, teasing her clit with my thumb. Her body began to rock in time with my hand, and I revelled in the control I had over her body. I couldn't resist looking at her silk and lace covered breasts producing a marvellous cleavage despite her being on her back, and watching them rise and fall with Madeline's short breaths.

Madeline reached up and grabbed the sheet with both her hands, letting out little gasps and grunts, her face looking like it was in deep concentration, almost in pain. I began to work myself into her faster and faster, my fingers thrilling at her amazing tightness.

Madeline stopped breathing. Her back slowly arched, her body became tense, her mouth opened to a wide 'O' shape. Everything paused, silent except for the moist sounds of my fingers working in and out, in and out...

And then she came. Boy did she cum. Her body rocked back and forth, writhing in ecstasy, as she screamed, "YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS". I felt her pussy muscles twitching and my hand was flooded with her juices. I must admit, despite this just being just about relieving her stress, I had one of the most powerful erections I had ever sported as my daughter came on the bed next to me.

Eventually she settled down, her breath just in gasps, her hands clutching mine tightly. I withdrew my fingers from her, causing her to shudder.

"There you go, honey. You just relax here," I said, kissing her on the head. I turned to roll off the bed and she gripped my arm tightly.

"No, wait," she gasped, still trying to get her thoughts in order. She looked up at me, and she had the most wicked look on her face, while somehow simultaneously looking remarkably innocent. "I am still a bit stressed.

"You want me to do it again?" I asked, my fingers travelling along her belly.

"No!" she cried, grabbing my hand before it reached its destination. "I need more."

"More? Oh, you want me to lick you?" I could do that, I suppose. It wouldn't be that much worse than frigging my daughter to orgasm.

"No. More. Like what we did before."

Oh. My daughter was asking me for sex. Oh well, In for a penny, and all that.

I rolled up and over her. I stood, took off my clothes and slid my legs between hers. She lifted her legs and placed her ankles on my hips. The last vestiges of my resistance spoke up as my cock brushed against her pussy lips. But she needed this, I needed my girl back.

I didn't worry about subtlety, I slid my full length deep into her welcoming depths in one long, smooth stroke. She gasped, and her nails bit into my back, and she bit my shoulder painfully. I just rested in her, enjoying the squeeze as she got used to my cock inside of her again. When I felt her finally relaxing, I began to move back and forth, slowly at first, and she whispered, "Oh yes, daddy." I began to build to a nice rhythm, pumping my cock in and out of my sexy daughter squirming, whimpering and thrusting below me. She had no skill, as far as I know she had only fucked me and a toy before, but had more than enough enthusiasm to make up for it.

Her first orgasm hit five minutes in, and I paused as she shuddered below me, her puss so tight around my cock I doubt I could have pulled out if I wanted too. I soon was back to pumping in and out of her, faster and faster, her face screwed up in such bliss that she looked like she was in agony. Her movements became so wild that I was unsure what were her regular movements, and what was her orgasms, and I had difficulty staying on her. I pressed her into the mattress and began to fuck her in earnest, slamming into her as hard and fast as I could. She was screaming, and I was groaning, and my orgasm was coming and...

"Wait! Wait! Daddy! Pull out!" I stopped, confused, and allowed her to push me off of her. She scrambled over me, lust burning in her eyes, grabbed my dick and took me fully into her mouth. I groaned loudly as my cock entered heaven, her mouth slipping back and forth over her lips and tongue. I was close before, and I couldn't last, and it wasn't long before I was having my own shattering orgasm into her mouth.

She swallowed every drop, milking me with her hand, until I was spent. She sat up and grinned at me. "Sorry about that, I just remembered I haven't been that good about taking my contraception recently. Didn't want an accident!"

"Now you tell me!"

She collapsed onto my chest, both of us exhausted, both of us panting heavily. Eventually we recovered enough for us to get some clothes on and stand. I thought it was now going to be awkward, but she just hugged me and grinned, suddenly back to her old self.

"I can't tell you how much I needed that! I suddenly felt like a ton of bricks have been lifted off of me. I feel wonderful!"

"I'm glad I could help, honey, but you know we can't do this often, don't you?"

"Sorry, dad? I wasn't listening. Somewhere between the fifth and sixth orgasms I think I may have worked out what was going wrong with my experiment -- it may not all me lost!"

"That's... great honey!" I said, smiling and shaking my head as she ran out the room, presumably to go to her college to fix her experiment.

Thought of THAT during her orgasms? I have said it before and I will say it again.

She always was an unusual girl.