The Roc of Gibraltar

This story was written for my muse, SlaveGirl70. It reflects my understanding of the fantasies and fetishes that she has shared with me. Of course, there is a liberal dose of my interests as well. SlaveGirl70 also served as editor. We believe the result worthy of Literotica and hope that you agree.

This story contains father-daughter incest, bondage and mild discipline. Vaginal, oral and anal sex are all present.

****

Carol looked at her reflection in the airport window and saw the image of her mother. Her brown hair framed her steel-gray eyes and her plush red lips. Her bosom was full. Her hips were curvy and her thighs were ample. As a girl she'd always thought that her mother was beautiful, and it occurred to her that if her mother had been beautiful then, she herself must be beautiful now.

She stepped closer to the glass to make sure that it wasn't her mother standing out on the sidewalk, looking in. For an instant hope surged within her, but no, it was a reflection. As hard as it was to accept, she knew her mother was gone. She'd died on the icy roads of New Hampshire almost two years ago. Now Carol was on her way home to spend a second lonely Christmas with her father.

Her thoughts turned back to the last quality time she'd spent with her mother. They'd left her dad at home and gone out to the after-Christmas sales. Her mother surprised her by shopping at Victoria's Secret, Frederick's of Hollywood and even one of the seedy sex shops downtown. She'd bought some skimpy lingerie, a corset, and a French maid's outfit.

"What's going on, mom?"

"Does this surprise you? Do you think your father and I don't have sex?"

"No, it just seems a little extreme."

"I thought I'd raised you to be more open minded than that."

"I'm not judging you. It's just that I would have thought that you two had sex figured out by now."

"Oh honey, you never figure sex out. You have to constantly change and evolve. Otherwise it gets boring."

"Does Dad buy stuff too?"

"Of course, your dad's a sex tiger."

It was hard for her to think of her father as any kind of tiger. He had always been the ideal father. He'd been to every one of her concerts, tennis matches and softball games. He'd always been encouraging and in twenty years he'd never laid a hand on her, not even when she was an insolent teenager.

Carol stewed on what her mother said for a while. Her mother had always been candid when it came to sex, so Carol would have to be careful what she asked. In the end her curiosity got the best of her, "What kind of stuff do you two get up to?"

Her mother gave her a wry smile and arched her eyebrow as if to ask if she really wanted to know.

"Go ahead mom, shock me."

Her mother's smile broadened. "I'm exploring my submissive side and your father is exploring his dominant side."

It was easy for Carol to think of her mother playing roles, and her father was a good sport, so he would go along with anything she wanted. But Carol suspected that her mother was the driving force behind the exploration.

Her mother reached across the small table between them and took Carol by the nape of her neck; her fingers pulled at its fine hairs. She brought Carol's face close to her own and in a very low voice she said, "Your father likes to grab me like this and tell me what a bad girl I've been."

Carol could feel the puffs of breath from her mother's mouth as she spoke and she felt an unfamiliar intensity in her grasp.

"Then I have to lie stone-still as he carefully ties me up. He punishes me if I move a muscle." Her mother released the grip on Carol's neck, but maintained the tension in her voice.

Carol's eyes widened, "How does he punish you?"

"That depends. Sometimes he pinches or twists my nipples, sometimes he slaps me, and sometimes he surprises me with something new."

"Dad slaps you?"

"Oh yes, sometimes he hits me so hard that I want to cry, but I never do, because that would make him really mad."

"We're talking about my father, right?"

"Yes sweetie. Does that surprise you?"

"A little, yes."

"I think I could surprise you more than a little." Her mother let the comment dangle. Carol could take the bait if she wanted.

Her mother had always been a bit wild. More than once Carol had seen her naked at the wanton parties that her parents threw. Her father was always there to make sure things didn't get out of hand. He'd let her show off her tits and ass. He might let one of the guests kiss her, or even touch her, but that was about as far as he'd let it go. He was the Rock of Gibraltar, unwavering, steady and dependable.

As much as Carol wanted to cling to the untarnished image of her father, she wanted to know the truth. "Okay mom, dish," she said.

"He loves to tie me up and then force himself on me. I pretend to fight. Sometimes I really fight, but he never takes no for an answer. He rips off my clothes and uses the fabric to bind my hands and feet. If I move a muscle he slaps my ass, twists my tit or pinches my nipple."

"You let him do that do you?"

"Are you kidding? I love it. He likes to bind me so that my ass is in the air, and then he spanks me. The best part is while he's tying me up. He explains what I've done that is so bad and then he tells me how he's going to teach me a lesson." Her mother wiggled her hips and said, "It makes me wet just thinking about it."

"Okay mom, that's enough."

"Lately he's been taking me from the rear, if you know what I mean."

"That's more than I want to know."

"The more I fight, the rougher he plays. Sometimes I push him to see how far he'll go."

"Mom, please stop."

Her mother stopped talking and thought for a moment. "I thought you'd like to know. This is who we really are. I'm proud of who I am. I'm proud that I have your father to share my life with. I want you to be who you really are. I want you to live unashamed, proud and fulfilled."

Carol smiled at her mother, "I'm proud of you too mom. It's just that sometimes you share more than I want to know."

Her mother paused for a moment and looked at her daughter. "Does it make you wet to think about your father like that?"

"Mom!"

"It's all right, you don't have to tell me."

"You already know, don't you?"

Her mother smiled, "Your dad's one sexy devil, isn't he?"

"Christ mom, that's enough!!"

"You keep your hands off of him. He's mine!" That wry smile was back on her mother's face.

Carol laughed, "As much as I love him, he's all yours."

Her mother reached out and straightened her hair. "How did I raise such a good girl? I'm so proud of you."

"Sometimes I wonder," said Carol while shaking her head.

*********

"What are you thinking about?" asked the gentleman sitting next to her on the plane. He was obviously a businessman a few years older than her father. "Whatever it is has put a big smile on your face."

Carol had mindlessly boarded the plane while lost in thought. She didn't want to explain, so she changed the subject.

*******

Her father was waiting at baggage claim with a bouquet of flowers from the supermarket. He beamed at the sight of her and held his arms out for her to leap into his hug. Once she was in his grasp, he kissed her on the cheek.

"What was that?" Carol asked.

"A kiss," he replied, somewhat confused.

"A kiss is on the lips. What you did was something French people do with someone they don't like." She planted a big kiss on his lips and gave him a hug while she took in a deep breath of his cologne. It was the smell of comfort, security, warmth and understanding. For a moment it pushed aside the bittersweet melancholy of her mother's memory and held her in its warm embrace.

"It is good to see you sweetheart," he said.

On the ride home he quizzed her about school, her roommates, and any boys that might be significant. She filled him in on all the details that she could. She was dating, but there was no guy that was worth talking about.

They stopped to pick up wine, ice cream, cookies and Chinese food.

"Don't you have any food at home?"

"Yes, but nothing fun. With your mother gone there's nothing to stop me from drinking all the wine or eating all the ice cream, so I don't bring it home. Leaving it on the store shelves is my only defense."

"You were always so good when I was a kid."

"I still try to be good, but your mother left a gaping void in my life and I constantly feel the urge to fill it up with something. I can only resist temptation if I don't bring tempting things into the house."

"Did you call Mrs. Johnson? Maybe she could help fill your void."

"No. I think she wants me to fill her void," her father joked.

"Would that be such a bad thing?"

"No, I suppose not, but I'm not ready for that."

Carol reassuringly touched his shoulder, "Maybe we can split the ice cream to fill that void of yours, how's that?"

Her father smiled, "That's the ticket."

They started by splitting the wine and the Chinese food while they reminisced about crazy things that her mother had done. Carol told the story of bringing home a new boyfriend and finding her mother sunbathing naked on the deck. She'd stood up and shook his hand like there was nothing unusual about it. Then her father told the story of the time that they were banned from the amusement park by the lake for trying christen the log flume ride.

It was too funny. There was never a shortage of hijinks when her mother was around. But now that she was gone it was like the fun died with her. The mood quickly shifted and they sat in silence, each absorbed by their own thoughts.

Carol broke the silence by saying, "How about a dip in the hot tub?" Without waiting for her father to respond she went out on the deck and removed the tub's thick insulation. "It looks perfect," she said.

Her father turned on the deck lights and joined her outside. He watched as her dress slid off her shoulders, flowed along the curve of her back, over her ass and down her legs. He followed her bra as it glided down her healthy arms, over her hands and dropped onto the deck. He couldn't resist staring at her panties being wrested from their bind on her ass and then descending to join her dress and bra.

His eyes were fixed on her curvy body as she stepped into the tub and dropped into the water. It was not the body that young boys fantasized about. It was the body of a real woman. She had meat on her bones. What made her special was the way she carried herself. She was happy with who she was, and she didn't care what anyone else thought. She was just like her mother.

His daughter had turned into a reproduction of the woman he had fallen in love with in college. He was the first guy to recognize the beauty in her mother's acceptance of her unexceptional appearance. Others eventually saw the light, but by then he had staked his claim.

He imagined himself grabbing Carol by the arm and pulling her into his steady grasp. She would tip her head back as he forced his lips upon hers. It wouldn't matter that she wanted him. It wouldn't matter that she longed to be kissed by him. All that mattered was that he would take her and that he would not take 'No' for an answer.

"Aren't you going to join me?" Carol asked.

He shook his head to clear his mind. "I'll be there in just a second, let me get some towels," he stammered. He raced to his bedroom and changed into a bright yellow bathing suit, and returned to the tub with the towels.

"What is that?" Carol asked as he put down the towels.

"It's a bathing suit."

"Since when do we wear bathing suits in the hot tub? Mom would roll over in her grave if she saw you in that."

Her father was at a loss for words.

"Take it off and get in."

Her father hesitated for a moment, then stepped out of the bathing suit.

Carol watched as his erect penis sprang from the suit. She'd seen his cock many times before, but rarely had she seen it erect. It wasn't the biggest cock she had seen, but it had a reputation. Her mother called it her 'magic wand'. She insisted that it was exactly the right length to stimulate her g-spot, and she swore that she'd come every time it was inside her.

Carol wondered if her mother had been exaggerating, but exaggerating wasn't her mother's style. She had so many great stories that she had no need to exaggerate about her husband's cock. Still, Carol wondered.

"Has it been a long time Dad?" she asked, referring to his erection.

Her father gave an embarrassed smile, "I suppose that's part of it."

For a guy in his mid forties his body wasn't bad at all. His shoulders were broad and his gut was flat, but the best part was that his chest was covered in a dense mat of hair. Her father was a man. He looked like a man and he smelled like a man. He was the only man who could tame her mother and that was saying something. Carol wondered if it was his cock that tamed her mother, his calm demeanor or his acceptance of who she was. Whatever it was, it was now going to waste.

He quickly stepped out of the cold and into the hot tub.

"You know that mom would want you to go on living. She'd want you to find someone new."

Her dad nodded. There was a long silence before he said, "When I was young my grandfather took me dove hunting. You probably already know this, but dove mate for life and they always fly in pairs. I shot one and watched as its partner circled around to see what had happened. In the middle of all the blasting shotguns it landed there next to its fallen mate and waited. Right now I feel like that dove, and I wish someone would put me out of my misery."

Carol didn't want to descend into the vicious cycle of sadness that they'd fallen into last Christmas. It had been so bad that she'd considered spending this Christmas with a friend, but her father needed her, so here she was. She changed the subject, "At least your cock is still interested in living."

Her father did his best to recover by forcing a hearty laugh, "Yes, my cock keeps me going."

"So, what about Mrs. Johnson? She's got the A.I.A."

He knew that the A.I.A. meant she was Attractive, Interested and Available. "I suppose I should give her a call."

"Definitely, you shouldn't let a hard on like that go to waste."

"Carol! You're as bad as your mother!"

She laughed and then stepped out of the tub, "Do you want some more wine?"

Her father's cock surged while he admired her gorgeous body as she sauntered across the deck. He imagined what it would be like to caress her neck, to feel the curve of her ass or slide his cock into her accepting pussy. Then he chastened himself for thinking that way about his daughter. It didn't matter how sexy she was or how much he missed his wife, there was no excuse for thinking that way about her.

But she looked so much like his wife. He already knew how it would feel to hold her in his arms, he knew the smell of the fine hairs of her neck, and he knew how to move his hips so that his cock would touch her in precisely the right way. It was hard to look at her body without thinking about sex.

She retrieved the plastic wine glasses from the kitchen and brought out the third bottle of wine. As she returned she caught her father staring. She held her arms apart and struck a pose, "Do you like what you see, Dad?"

Her father choked on his words. He frantically crawled from the tub and dropped onto the deck in front of her. His cock was even harder than it had been.

She looked up from his cock to see a mixture of desire and terror in his eyes. The realization that he wanted to fuck her broke like a wave upon her. It scared her, but it obviously terrified him.

He grabbed a towel, wrapped it around his waist and said, "I think I should call it a night. I have to go to work in the morning."

As he walked past a second more disturbing realization dawned on her. As frightening as it was that her father wanted her, it was more frightening that she wanted him too. It was only by the narrowest of margins that he managed to slip away from her.

**************

That night, as she lie in bed, she pinched her right nipple with her left hand while the two middle fingers of her other hand circled around her clit. Her mind was filled with thoughts of her father. It was obvious that he wanted her, and by the look in his eyes she could tell that he was only barely able to restrain himself. What would have happened if she'd reached out and stroked his rock-hard cock?

She imagined him grabbing her by the back of the neck, as her mother had done in the coffee shop. He would tip her head back and speak softly into her ear, "I don't care that it's wrong and I don't give a fuck what people say. I want my little girl and I'm going to take her."

He would force her head back and kiss her deeply on the lips. He would hold her hard in his arms as he dipped her.

At first she would resist. She would push at his shoulders and attempt to drive him away, but his kiss and her desires would overwhelm her. She had a void too, and she knew that he could fill it.

She imagined the tingle of his chest hair on her tits and the pressure of his cock against her thigh. His desire for her would be obvious. It would be in the longing in his eyes. It would be in the tremble in his hands and in the hardness of his cock.

Her finger pinched harder at her nipple while her fingers vigorously massaged her engorged clit. Their circular motion transitioned to a linear track up and down the length of her slit, with her fingers occasionally diving into her wet depths.

She imagined her father's hand sliding up her ribs while his cheek pressed against hers. His lips whispered into her ear, "Are you going to be my good girl?"

"Yes Daddy." She would be almost giddy in anticipation. It would amazing to have him want her so badly.

"I want to see my cock in my little girl's mouth."

"Oh, yes Daddy."

Carol's fingers slammed hard against her clit as she imagined herself dropping to her knees. She imagined taking her father's balls in her hand and pressing her face into his pubic hair to breathe in his musky aroma.

Her father would look approvingly down upon her. His fingers would be entwined in her hair and his palms would push firmly at her head, encouraging her to breathe deeply of his scent.

"Daddy you smell so good." In the heat of her self manipulation he smelled like a mountain lion ready to take its prey.

"Give your daddy a little kiss, sweetheart."

She would smile at her daddy's request and kiss his prick at its rosy red crown. His pre-come was emerge as she released her lips.

She would try to lick it up, but he would stop her. He would say, "Let's put a little gloss on my girl's lips," as he prepared to use his erect penis as an applicator.

Carol imagined herself puckering her lips as her father firmly held her head by her hair with one hand and held his stiff cock with the other. He would use the tip of cock as a pre-come dispenser and apply it to her beautiful lips.

She would smack her lips in delight. "I love the taste of your lip gloss Daddy."

"That's my good girl. Now you're even prettier and you're ready to suck your daddy's cock."

Carol's fingers sought out her g-spot deep inside her vagina as she imagined herself on her knees looking up for her father's approval. Her palm smashed against her clit as she imagined her lips contacting the tip of his penis.

"Open up baby, Daddy's coming home."

Carol involuntarily opened her mouth as her palm pressed hard against her clit. Again and again her palm smashed at it. She imaged the erection she had seen only moments ago entering her mouth.

She could actually taste the saltiness of his cock and smell the musky aroma of his body as she laid on the bed with her fingers deep inside her soggy cunt. She imagined her father's hands pressing hard at the back of her head, encouraging her to take more into her mouth.