Taming the Beast Within

If you don't like huge tits and big cocks, this isn't going to be a story for you. If you do, I hope you enjoy.

As always, all of the participants are at least 18, and this work is copyrighted by Geek_Writer. Thanks to Pat Harvey for editing help, his are the sharper eyes than mine!

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"Jesus, Dad," she said for about the millionth time. "Why do you put up with this bullshit?"

Duncan sat there, a sad smile on his face as he gazed at his daughter. That night his wife, Anna, had made a fuss about the fact that their daughter, Jackie, hadn't emptied the dishwasher, which he had mistakenly responded to with, "She'll get to it when she gets home."

That had started the bonfire that had ended in a one-sided screaming match that he mostly blocked out until her volume level lowered to semi-apoplectic. He'd almost calmed her to the point of reconciliation when Jackie walked in from school, causing his wife to relaunch into orbit, culminating in her rushing up the stairs to get ready for her evening out.

He smiled, reaching out and taking his daughter's small hand in his. Duncan loved his daughter to distraction, something his wife constantly harped on him about. "You're too easy on her" and "she manipulates you into doing what she wants" were the top two comments uttered with complete contempt.

The real problems were the comments that Anna made about her daughter should be made about Anna herself. Jackie was a freshman at the local college, living at home to save money, and was truly the apple of his eye. She had the same mannerisms, the same slightly irreverent sense of humor, as he did, the opposite of his tiny, boisterous, spoiled wife.

He and Anna had met in college and the shy Duncan had been swept off his feet by her personality, her charm, and her tiny, curvy frame. Topping out at 5'2", she was exciting, spontaneous, and a lot of fun to be around. An admitted nympho, she'd introduced him to so many things in the first few years of dating and marriage that he thought he'd died and gone to heaven.

It had cooled quickly once they got married, excuses becoming more and more regular until he noticed one day that he couldn't even recall the last time they'd made love. Their son was now 21, out of the house and about to graduate from Ohio State with a double major in business and economics, and already looking at several promising prospects in Chicago that were the result of all his hard work.

Harrison was a mixture of his parents in build and temperament, but he got his good looks from his mother's side of the family. He had the dark and handsome down pat but was confident enough in himself at 6'3" that he usually got what he wanted. If he didn't get it based on his looks alone, his mother's manipulative side, which he inherited in spades, usually won out.

Duncan knew from the first day he held her as a baby that he was lost. As she grew, she reminded him of all the best women in his life - loving, warm, caring and sweet - she had his empathy and generosity and genuine love of people. Her dark red hair and green eyes took after several of his aunts and cousins, but her figure was that of his mother, Victoria. He often thought that the increase in Anna's negativity could be tied to the fact that as Jackie got older and more stunning, Anna just couldn't compete.

His daughter filled out a body that was lush and voluptuous, far better than Anna's had been in college. Having let herself go over the years; Anna was still stunning in her mind. Dressing like someone fifteen years younger, and wearing ridiculous amounts of makeup, he felt his wife was getting desperate. He thought about what had happened tonight, her voice still ringing shrill in his ears.

"I'm going to Cheryl's for the evening, she's got some new blah blah blah we're going to check out and then blah blah blah for a while, and then we're going out for drinks, don't wait up, trust me." she barked, going upstairs to change into her 'club dress'.

When she came back into the kitchen, she took up right where she left off, grabbing a piece of paper from the counter. "Make sure you do," he heard her reading off the list of things she had for him to accomplish before he went to bed.

At times he felt like a third child, but in truth, after being married for 24 years, he had learned to nod his head in the right places, do as she asked. It just wasn't worth the shrill, self-righteous argument that he'd end up losing regardless. He hoped he'd have some time left over to do the things he wanted to do. As he pondered his life, he felt a soft warm hand in his, the calluses on her fingertips from playing the violin scratchy on his palm.

"Dad, you know I love you, right?" she said, staring at him with the green eyes that he'd fallen in love with the first time he saw her. He nodded, a sad smile on his face. He looked around in confusion, not realizing that he'd tuned his wife out so much that he hadn't even realized that she had left. He honestly wondered if he cared at this point.

"So, you know that I'm not saying this to be mean," she said, her voice rising in frustration, "but where's your spine?" He chuckled.

"See!" she blurted, "That's what I mean! You don't even get upset! I have to do it for you!"

"Jax, listen to me," he began, his voice soft, but firm. "What happens with your Mother and me is nothing to be concerned with, we make it work," he said, placing one hand over hers, squeezing it. "It's not worth rocking the boat, baby."

"Rocking the boat?" she yelled. "She's a fuckin' bitch, Dad, and you're acting like a total pussy!" She sat back, jerking her hand away and folding her arms beneath her considerable chest.

"Apologize," he said, his voice low.

"No!"

"Jacqueline Claire McMillan, you will apologize now!" he said, standing suddenly. Her eyebrows rose, eyes going wide, hearing the power in his voice. She hadn't heard him use this voice since she was a little girl and had been extraordinarily difficult.

As much of a pushover as he'd been before, something in him changed. Instead of feeling shame and fear like she did when she'd be scolded like a child, she felt her nipples harden in response, her body flushing with desire. She stared up at the man before her, catching a glimpse of who he really was. It disturbed her at how much it turned her on.

"I'm sorry I called Mom a bitch," she said, her voice soft and almost childlike. She fidgeted in the chair under his gaze, squirming with the surprising longing she felt at his commanding presence.

"She is my wife, and your mother, and whether or not you agree with the relationship that I have with her, you will show her respect," he said, his voice losing some of the rich bass that had shocked her, but there was still power underneath. Looking at his dark blue eyes, she saw her Father, not her Dad.

"Yes, Daddy, I'm sorry," she responded, dropping her gaze. He reached for her hands, the back of one of his grazing her right breast. She gasped, but he didn't seem to notice.

"I love you, Peanut, and I know you don't see your Mom and me getting along and it's tough. You must understand that this is the life I chose, and I have a responsibility to provide for this family. Part of that is not rocking the boat when your Mother treats me like I'm a non-entity."

She gasped, hearing his voice catch at the end. She sat there looking up at him as he squeezed her hands and started to get up. His eyes were full of unshed tears as he moved to empty the dishwasher, the first item on the list.

She sat there staring at his back as he started humming a Led Zeppelin song, too low for her to figure out which one, but she knew it was one of them. She got up and left quietly, leaving him to work in peace, running up the stairs to her room.

Leaning against her closed door, tears ran down her cheeks for her poor father. His quiet, gentle manner had always made her feel safe, protected as nothing could ever go wrong. Hearing the power in his voice had given her hope that maybe he'd stand up for himself for once, but seeing the tears in his eyes had shattered it.

He was trapped, and she'd always thought it, but now she knew for sure.

For a minute there, though,

she thought. He was someone different, more powerful, more confident. Wiping the tears from her face, she turned, opened her door and made her way down the long hall. Taking the carpeted steps two at a time, she went back into the kitchen as he finished filling the dishwasher and started the machine.

She leaned over the table, looking at the list.

"I'll take the living room and dining room dusting, can you follow after me with the vacuum?" she asked as if nothing was wrong. She bit the inside of her cheek when she found his gaze, trying to remain nonchalant, but his red-rimmed eyes made it difficult and she almost crumbled. Finding inner strength, she smiled.

"I think we need a big red marker to cross this shit out, throw me one from the drawer, k?" A vindictive grin spread across her face.

She looked back at the list, getting a grip on her emotions, and pulling a hair tie from the several on her wrist she pulled her hair back in a tight ponytail, high on her head. She turned and caught the marker he fired at her with a "Heads up" and marked through the line that read fill the dishwasher.

He put an arm around her shoulder, hugging her in close to his hip, handing her the duster and leaning down to kiss the hair right above her ear.

"Thanks, Peanut," he whispered. He walked over to the Bluetooth speaker, turning on a hard rock station, and smiled broadly when AC/DC came on. "Imma rollin' thunder, a pouring rain..."

They got down to work, with him lifting the end of the couch so she could vacuum underneath, getting the carpet cleaner than it had been in a long time. She smiled as he lifted the other end of the couch, saying, "If we're gonna do it..." she paused.

"At least make sure we do it right," he finished, high-fiving her and grabbing the vacuum to finish the rest of the living room while she started in the dining room. She hadn't noticed she'd begun to work up a sweat as she moved around the room with the feather duster while her father finished vacuuming.

He wasn't openly staring at her but couldn't help catching glimpses out of the corner of his eye. A flash of her bare stomach, her shorts riding up her shapely ass, but especially the bounce of her firm breasts confined in her sports bra beneath the loose shirt. She was getting horny as hell; the fact that he was her father was becoming less important by the minute.

She waited until he was turned towards her and reached high to one shelf, thrusting her chest out further than necessary. She could see him standing still in the middle of the room, staring, his attention making her nipples erect.

"What am I doing?" she wondered to herself, looking over when she saw him finally look away. He adjusted himself, making her eyes bug out. "No way that's all him," she pondered, catching glimpses of something trapped in his pants.

They put everything back, and after making and cleaning up after dinner, ran through the last item on the list. He took it and was about to crush it into a ball when she slipped it out of his grasp, walking over to the fridge. With a magnet shaped like a tomato, she put it front and center on the door, a monument to their achievements of the evening. He smiled, his hand on her shoulder, and snapped his finger at the list.

"There's your list," he said, turning to look at his daughter who bounced up and down on her toes. His eyes locked on the swell of cleavage as she bounced up and down, her erect nipples, and how well they stood up all by themselves. He tried to tear his gaze away from her breasts, but they made his mouth water and his cock begin to stir in his pants.

She hugged him tightly for a moment, her breasts pressing into his chest. Her nipples were rock hard, and he hugged her back just as hard, causing her to swoon. He shook his head to clear it, and she kissed his cheek, turning to bounce up the stairs to her room. He stood there, cock rapidly swelling for several moments as his head turned all the sensual images over in his mind. He could still smell her fresh clean scent as he turned and moved down the hall. His thoughts were full of her sweet full breasts and how they felt against his chest as he turned into his office and shut the door.

Jackie went into her room, closing the door and throwing down her shorts. Her thong was completely stuck to her, soaked through with her nectar. She closed her eyes, picturing what couldn't be real, but before she knew it, she moved the thong aside and slid two fingers insider her. As she pictured her father's fat stick plowing into her, she came suddenly as she touched her clit.

"Wow," she gasped out loud.

Shaking her head, she changed into another pair of shorts, leaving the thong on the floor by the hamper and going commando. She had a feeling that she was going to be wet again before long, but she had some studying she needed to finish before she went to sleep.

Grabbing her books, she spread out everything on her long bed and started on her paper due that Friday. She wrote a little, surfed a little, liked pics on Facebook and Instagram, and was about to pack up her stuff when something on Instagram caught her eye. It was a picture on her Instagram feed of a girl she knew, showing the girl, Jennie, and her Mother out dancing at a club, surrounded by a group of young men.

Jennie was a someone she knew from high school, but not close, the kind of girl that felt entitled to everything. With Jennie sporting fake boobs and butt implants, Jackie couldn't understand why guys somehow found that sexy and lined up to buy her drinks. Tonight's pics were no exception and they were doing the same for her mother. Cheryl, or as she and her Dad referred to her as "Barbie", was the queen of silicone, failed marriages, and being a total slut.

Now that she looked closer, she could see a lot of the guys getting closer to the mother than the daughter, and it made her chuckle to herself. Clicking on a video, she gasped at what she saw, her hand going up to her mouth.

There in the background was a woman practically pawing a young good-looking guy, her dress hanging most of the way off her shoulder as she tried to shove her tongue down his throat. She recognized the dress, the hair, and after a few seconds when they finally broke their lip lock, the face.

It was Anna, her mother.

"Bitch!" she shouted. "She's out getting drunk and fooling around with those guys, while we do all of the shit at home!" she spat, her blood boiling. She quickly replayed the movie, taking screenshots of several paused sections, gathering evidence to show her father.

"No one fucks with my Daddy, you are so done, you bitch," she growled, hearing the same power in her voice as she'd heard her Father utter earlier.

She bounced off the bed, running for the door. She swung it open and raced down the stairs like an avenging angel, her feet barely hitting the steps. She finally had the evidence she needed to free him from this rotten existence. Running around the corner and down the hall, she was about to wrench open the door to his office when she heard something.

Listening at the door, she thought she heard him crying, not loudly but enough for her to hear through the door. She wanted to expose her mother and free her Dad, but not like this. She didn't want to make him feel worse, maybe she'd wait till tomorrow. Her mother was never around on the weekend, something Jackie looked forward to all week. She nodded to herself, turning to go back to her room. She paused again, hearing him more clearly, and realized he wasn't crying.

He was moaning and doing it rather loudly. She set her hands on the door, putting her ear to it, listening.

"Oh god, yes, just like that," she heard him moan. The tone and power of his voice flooded her panties, and she bit her lip to stifle the moan trying to escape. There was something in his voice that awakened something in her, something primal.

She reached for the handle, and, turning it gently, cracked open the door. From where she stood in the hall, she could her father's old leather chair, turned slightly towards the desk against the wall. It obscured most of his upper body, but she could see his hand in his lap, sliding up and down the huge slick pole; the angry red cap was so swollen it looked like he would explode at any minute.

He stroked himself, moaning as he watched and listened to something on the monitor on his desk. Easing the door open a little wider, she could see a pair of shapely legs and a plump ass on the screen bent over the bleachers in a gym. The woman's small hands were parting her ass cheeks as a gigantic dick appeared from the left side of the screen, stabbing between the swollen labia.

Jackie stood frozen, her gaze glued to her father's hand running up and down his glorious cock. She felt her nipples harden, goosebumps rising all along her skin, her crotch instantly drenched and leaking down the inside of her legs. The sheer madness of seeing her father masturbating was one thing.

The fact that he pumped what looked like nine inches of the thickest manhood was another. Feeling lightheaded, she realized she was drooling, wanting nothing more than to lick and suck his beautiful dick until he exploded into her waiting mouth and down her throat. Lust overrode any caution at the situation, her need to comfort him turning quickly to a need of a different kind. One that could only be solved with that cock.

"Oh god that's hot," he grunted. His hand continued stroking up and down, pausing every few moments to gather the glistening syrup that leaked out the end of his cock. She watched him, her hand moving to cup her breast. She pinched her nipple as her other hand undid her shorts and slid past the waistband, giving her access to her moist slit. Watching his large hand milk his cock held her spellbound, her tongue wetting her lips as her body responded to the huge tool a few feet across the room.

He's really is fucking huge

, she thought to herself, alternating between squeezing her breasts and pinching her sensitive nipples. The fingers on her other hand were busy sliding in and out of her sodden pussy in time with the movements of his fist. Two fingers slipped inside, riding on either side of her clit.

Her breath began to catch as she started feeling sparks of pleasure, her movements speeding up to match her father's pace. Letting go of her breast, she shoved her shorts down, sliding them over her soft hips, one long finger slipping inside to reach her g-spot, the other winding circles around her clit keeping pace with his hand. She could hear his breath getting deeper, a feeling of something gathering in the room between them as she slowly walked into the room, all caution was forgotten in a haze of lust.

"Oh god, that feels so fucking good, yes, right there," he moaned, the sounds of the couple on the screen loud in the room. "That's it, make her come, make that little girl come, mmm, yes," he hissed. "She's just a fucking tease. Making you hard when she knows your wife is a frigid bitch. Making her big tits bounce and grinding her nipples into your chest," he moaned loudly when the man on the screen kept thrusting into the smaller woman, then thrusting his thumb into her backside.

Jackie felt her orgasm gather, but what was beginning deep inside her loins was nothing like she'd ever felt before. Her breath caught as she stroked her fingers inside her to prod her g-spot, her other hand busy rubbing her clit like mad.

"Oh fuck," she gasped, her lack of control speeding her towards what felt like the orgasm of a lifetime. She heard his voice change, powerful and loud. She wasn't sure if he was talking to the screen, or someone else.