This is a story that I have been trying to write for a very long time. I think I have finally gotten it right. Please let me know what you think.
WARNING: This story involves father/daughter incest with some very heavy BDSM overtones. If you find either of these subjects' offensive, please do not read any further.
*****
Chapter One: And so, my training began.
My name is Veronica, but for most of my life I have gone simply by Ronni. My mother died tragically in a car accident when I was very young. I had only just turned six when it happened. From then on, my Dad was the one who raised me all by himself. All through my childhood it was just me and my Dad. Growing up with a single father as my only parent meant that I was definitely a tomboy. I was extremely athletic and playing sports came easy to me and became a big part of my life. I loved playing sports of all kinds and was very good at most of them. My first favorite sport to play was soccer where my position was goalie and I was a pretty good at it. Later in high school, I started playing softball where I played catcher, but really developed into becoming a very strong powerful hitter. Dad never missed a single one of my games.
After I graduated from high school I really started to feel so sorry for my dad, he just turned 45 and he had been all alone since mom died 13 years ago. And soon I would be moving out as well leaving him even more alone. I had just graduated from high school a year ago and now worked in a clothing store downtown and had just started taking classes to become a massage therapist. I was his only daughter and I just turned 19. What I knew made it even worse was that I looked just like my mom had when she was my age. I knew this from seeing old photographs of her taken when she was about my age which must have tormented him even more.
We both had about the same figure and breast size, 36D. The same hair color and facial expressions. And most similarly the very same piercingly green eyes.
At first, when I was younger Dad did most of the cleaning and cooking, laundry and housework, so it was not like he could not take care of himself. But after I got older I started to do more and more of those types of things around the house. I did not mind taking care of him one bit, after all he is my Dad.
It was a more, I guess, a personal loneliness that I knew he felt that really bothered me.
Also, recently I discovered that he and my mom had what definitely could be called an unconventional relationship. When my mom was alive I was too young to know anything about this kind of stuff or even to know what even went on in my parents' bedroom after I was asleep. It was not until many years after she died that I discovered my parents' secret past. I started going through and cleaning out all of my mom's stuff that Dad had boxed up and put away up into the attic. I went through each box deciding on what to keep boxed away and what to donate. It was then that I found my parents' secret stash. Dad must have boxed it all up and put it away. In their "stash" of sex toys. I found dildos, vibrators, and butt plugs of all different shapes and sizes. There was also an assortment of ropes, metal handcuffs, leather wrist and ankle cuffs, ball gags and other bondage stuff. Even a few whips, crops, paddles and nipple clips. Finding all of this stuff got me really excited. The most surprising item of them all was a leather neck collar with the word "Bitch" embroidered on to it. I took the boxes of sex toys down from the attic and hid them in my room.
Anyway, back to Dad, recently he has started to drink a few more beers then usual almost every night and then go to his bedroom. His room was down the hall from mine, but I would sneak into the empty room between ours and listen through the walls. I could tell he was watching porn, even though the volume was kept low. I then figured out that a lot of the moaning and grunting I heard was him masturbating. Sitting in the empty room listening to porn on the TV and my Dad jerking off in the next room got me hot as hell. I started reaching down in to my wet panties and fingering myself. I do not think he heard me moaning when I came, he probably figured it was the TV. I doubt he knew his only daughter was in the next room masturbating to the sound of him stroking himself off. I never considered my Dad a pervert or anything, I just knew that he was very lonely, and in fact, all this just made me horny as hell.
Dad was pretty good hunk of man, 6'1", 200 pounds, lightly hairy which I loved, strong and sturdy like every girl sees her father. But recently he had started to let himself go and gained some weight. He had big hands from years of hard work. Listening at night and imaging seeing him strip and slide into bed had my juices flowing. As I fantasied about seeing his hand pump that beautiful cock, I almost cried, how badly I wanted to feel his cock, hold it, stroke it for him and be there to make him cum.
One Saturday morning I decided to do the laundry first thing. Dad was still in bed the that morning when I snuck into his room. Grabbing up all the clothes on the floor I noticed something about his under shorts. They had that intoxicating smell I was familiar with from being with past boyfriends. Dad must have used them to clean himself with them after he came. I locked myself in the bathroom and buried my nose into his still damp underwear. There was no stink, no odor, just the scent of his cum. I rubbed my clit so hard I came in about a minute.
I hurried to the laundry, but kept those shorts under my pillow.
That night I went to bed early. My Dad asked if I was OK and I just told him I was tired. I flipped my pillow over and pressed his underwear to my nose and almost cried.
"MY GOD...you're one sick puppy!" I said to myself. I did not care. I was drunk with the smell of him.
I dated a few guys throughout high school and even lost my virginity to one of them that turned out to be the biggest loser of them all and fucked and sucked a few of the others as well. But none of them got me as excited as the smell of my dad's cum. This was my Dad. I practically cried at his loneliness, his having to resort to jerking himself off masturbating every night.
My mind flashed back to the cuffs and collar and sex toys I had discovered in the attic. I remembered how one of the boys I had dated a few times about year ago tied me up once, and I never told him how hot it made me. He was just a horny kid and did not really know what to do with me once he had me helpless anyway. He just used it as an excuse to introduce me to being fucked in the ass. I was furious with him for weeks, but I never let him know how much being "raped" and left crying all night long not to mention leaving me tied up for hours had stuck in my mind as one of the best experiences of my young, learning life. I think he was more afraid I would kick his ass for tying me up, something which I easily could have done being that I am pretty tough for a girl.
"I...can do this," I told myself.
Summer was just starting and it was getting hot. My Dad kept the doors open a lot and it was always warm in the house. I cut the legs off of two pairs of my jeans, short and sexy so my butt would show to its full effect. I bought several tube tops and a couple tank tops I could wear without a bra. I remember seeing pictures of Mom having breasts about the same size as mine wearing similar outfits. While Dad was at work one day I checked out a couple of his videos and discovered he liked outdoor scenes, a lot of bondage stuff with naked girls tied up outside helpless. I watched this one gangbang video and actually masturbated watching this girl sucking and fucking over a dozen guys. But I really flipped out, when I found this one video Dad had marked with five stars. He kept it separate from all the others, in a night stand drawer next to his bed. As I watched it I realized that it was not a professionally made tape like the others but an amateur homemade production. The girl in the video was almost identical to me. Her hair was even the same color as mine, her eyes, the way she moved and smiled. Her body was even identical to mine. It started with her on her knees surrounded by multiple cocks sucking each on in turn.
Then a voice off camera I recognized as being my father said, "That's it Bitch, suck all those cocks."
I realized then what I was actually watching was a tape of my very own mother when she was my age.
Soon one after the other each of the cocks she was sucking shot their loads all over her face. Her whole face quickly became coated in cum.
Then the scene and the camera angle changed to show my mother on her hands and knees. Facing the camera still with her face covered in dried cum. A guy whose face was out of the frame was behind her fucking her.
Then I heard my father's voice again, "Where you getting fucked, Bitch?"
"My ass, Master," came the strained reply from my mother.
"Why?" asked my father.
"Because this Bitch likes getting fucked in the ass."
"Who's slave slut Bitch are you?"
"Your slave slut Bitch, Master."
I continued to watch as close to a dozen different guys fucked my mom up the ass one after the other.
When the tape ended I whispered to myself, "I LOVE YOU DAD," and slipped quietly out of his room.
That evening, I fixed a light dinner, we did not eat much, then I washed up the dishes. As Dad sat down in his recliner, I handed him a beer. I was wearing a white tank top, intentionally one size too small and a pair of my cut off jean shorts...no bra, no shoes. My naked feet sort of plopped, plopped, plopped on the hardwood floor back to the kitchen. I could see in a mirror on the wall, Dad was watching my every step. I took a moment to rub my pussy, I could smell my arousal, when I bought him a second beer, I was sure he could too. There was a bulge in his pants as he watched the baseball game on TV. I almost laughed out loud.
Dad went to bed when the game ended at about 10:00. I hurried to my room taking a beer from the frig with me. Drinking the beer to get my courage up I waited about fifteen minutes. Quietly I walked down the hall. Listening at the door I could hear him inside. Trembling, I took a deep breath and walked in without knocking. The look on his face was priceless. He paused mid stroke, his big hand wrapped around his cock, stared at me and said nothing. As I walked over to him and stared into his eyes I spoke.
"You shouldn't have to do that by yourself," I whispered.
I sat down on the bed next to him and pushed his hand away. Still he said nothing. For the first time, I wrapped my hand, half the size of his, around his cock. It was so soft, and hard at the same time. I could feel him throbbing, quivering in my fist. He closed his eyes without a word and I started to stroke him. All my concentration went to his cock. It was gorgeous, and his balls were just magnificent. Neither one of us spoke, we did not have to. Up and down, over the circumcised head I stroked him. He began to moan and move against my hand.
"No...noooo I...can't" he whispered and tried to move my hand away.
"YES...yes you can Dad, I won't stop until you do...please...please cum for me."
A minute later he erupted with a loud growl. His cum was just like I had dreamed, thick and hot, it just oozed out of him over and over dribbling down my fingers onto his balls. I continued stroking him until he pushed me away. As he stared at me in disbelief, I raised my hand and licked his cum off of my fingers. I wanted to bend down and clean off his gooey balls too but I figured I had better take it slow.
I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and hurried out of the room. I raced to my room, locked the door and masturbated for over half an hour coming several times. I slept like a baby that night and was already in the kitchen making breakfast when Dad came in the next morning. He said nothing, he sat down and I handed him his coffee and the paper. He was wearing his robe and I tried to catch a glimpse at his crotch when I gave him his breakfast.
"We need to...talk" he said.
