Author Topic: Why I Chased the Thrill - Chapters 8 and 9 added 6/5  (Read 1782 times)

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May 10, 2017, 10:27:16 PM

Offline Skygazer

This story is a prequel (of sorts) that is narrated between Chapters 6 and 7 of "Chasing the Thrill", that story can be found here. You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login

This story deals with some emotionally abusive situations involving incest and very young girl. There will be no violent rape, but multiple instances of sex with a pre-pubescent child. It's going to be more personal than the prior story as well. Regardless, I hope you enjoy. Thank you!

Why I Chased the Thrill by Skygazer

Chapter 1

I sat down at the keyboard and stared at it long and hard. Off to the side of me was the box that had been left for me by my blackmailer. I had already gone through the contents and read my instructions and now found myself sitting here, as I wondered what I was doing. Why was I about to write down my life story when I had no intention of letting anyone read it? I thought on that and honestly couldn’t answer why. Maybe it was more for myself. A cathartic release and one last accounting of the good and bad times in my life, in written form. I knew that things would likely go bad for me soon. I wasn’t that stupid, despite all of my actions. I was to leave any form of ID at my house. I had already scrubbed my PC and phone of anything incriminating. I knew when I arrived at that gas station I was to throw my clothes in the trash. I wasn’t stupid. I knew there was a good chance I wasn’t coming back.

So, instead of kissing my children goodbye, or talking to my husband, I’m here writing. Because if I did either of those, I’d break down and I’m here because of my actions and no matter how shitty of a wife I’ve been, I won’t let them suffer for my mistakes. Maybe I’m writing to know, myself, how I arrived at this place and in this situation. So anyway, though no one will read this, this is the story of my life. A story of why I chased thrills I shouldn’t have, why I cheated, and why I am the way I am. Judge me all you want, but only if you’ve walked the road I have.

My story starts off fairly simple, in a small town in western Kentucky, just off the Tennessee border. I don’t remember, like most people, my first few years and in fact my first memories are of a hospital. By all accounts that I’ve been told, I had been very close to my mother, always by her side. And that is my first memory as well. By her side, as she slowly wasted away from cancer. I didn’t understand any of that then, of course, just that mommy was sick.

My mom had had me young, only 16 years old when she gave birth to me. Dad was older by a good bit at the time, 25 years old. Nowadays it would have gathered more stares but it wasn’t unreasonable back then, especially if the older man had a job and was taking care of his “woman”. And while at no point in my life growing up were we rich, or even middle class, we never went without meals either. Mom was a housewife, while Dad worked with his pallet business. It didn’t bring in a lot, but it was mostly honest work, although he wasn’t above stealing some from a business if they left them out in the elements to rot.

While I don’t remember the start of it, sometime around 4 my mom got sick. It was not one of the common cancers, but one of those nasty rare ones, that hit hard and fast and before you know it, you’re stage 4 and living in the hospital as the clock runs out. From diagnosis to death, it took about a year as one of the two most important people in my life simply wasted away. It was hard on me and I know it was hard on my dad. No matter how I feel about him now, I knew he loved her. Maybe imperfectly, but he did love her. He never remarried and he always wore his wedding ring till the day he died.

It was then, however, that I started sleeping with dad. No one would have judged us at the time. There was nothing sexual going on at that time. Not while mom was alive, at any rate. It was simply a father and his daughter, holding each other in the night as our loved one died a little bit more each day. We found comfort in being held and holding one another, in a way that made it possible to sleep at night.

Sadly, and far too common in those days, mom succumbed and passed away. Somehow dad scrounged enough money to get her a decent plot and we and our small circle attended her funeral. Mom had been the sole link in our social circle as dad mostly kept to himself. Of course, right after we had some distant family visit, and some of mom’s friends. But as the months dragged on by, we heard less and less from most of them outside of the occasional visit. We still continued to sleep together though. At first it was simply for comfort and after a few months, it simply became routine. I maybe napped in my room, or went there to read or play, but his bed steadily became my bed as well.

You’d think a person would clearly remember the events that forever altered their life, but of that time, I don’t remember much. There was no trauma’s beyond my mother’s death. School went on as normal. We were poor, living on the outskirts of a small town, doing our best. I slowly took on more and more of my mothers’ duties. I’d help clean the house, I learned to master the art of laundry and folding. With help, I learned to cook, and vacuum. We fell into our own special routine of school and work, then I’d clean the house and he’d help me with dinner when we got home. Then we’d watch TV and do the dishes, take our showers, and then go to bed together. Again, it wasn’t sexual. Not at first.

Things began to change after I turned 7 though. To save on the water bill, we started taking showers together. Sometimes, I could feel daddy under my lap as we watched movies or TV. Sometimes, I woke up and my gown or panties would be wet in the back. I didn’t think much of it as I thought that was just life. I honestly thought that sometimes parents showered with their children. I knew my friends sometimes slept with their parents, but I never mentioned that I only slept with my dad. We were closer because we only had each other and I knew that made things different. I talked to my dad all the time and I knew my friends avoided their parents whenever they could. But we were a team, a special team, and that made me happy.

I was 8 years old, just a few weeks after my birthday, when everything began to change.

May 10, 2017, 10:31:49 PM
Reply #1

Offline Skygazer

Disclaimer: This section and many later chapters will involve incest and sexual molestation of a young girl, 8+ years old. In some of these scenes, the girl might be into it, even fully. This story is not an endorsement in any way of incest, especially between a parent and child. Children love their parents very much and can be sent down paths they never should be by having their love taken advantage of. This is, and should stay fiction only, and grooming of any sort should never be performed on children in real life. With that said, enjoy.

Chapter 2

It started with special movies. We already spent time every day cuddled on the couch watching TV, or movies, me curled up and small and tiny with my daddy’s arms around me. After a long day at school, and cooking and cleaning the house, nothing felt better than to shower with dad, throw on my gown or one of his t-shirts, and lean against him. I always felt warm and safe and loved in his hands. It was home, as natural as anything I knew, as was going to bed with him the same way.

One day though, a weekend I believe, we watched a special movie. My dad told me that he loved me very, very much, and some people, in special circumstances, sometimes loved each other in special ways.

“Like how mommies love daddies?” I had asked.

“Exactly like that, baby doll,” Dad had said, stroking my hair. “Except other people can love like that too”

With that, he pulled me on his lap and held me close. I had just turned 8 and had just recently hit 4 feet tall. I was a bit heavier for my age, but not fat, rolling in around 70 or 75 lbs. My hair had been grown long, almost reaching the small of my back and was a nice shade of reddish brown. In the summer, it would turn full on red thanks to the sun, but it tended to darken otherwise. His arms enveloped me, while I wore his t-shirt and panties underneath. The movie started and it was one it was a standard early 80’s porno, complete with horrible music and a bad story. The sex scenes were nothing unusual for the time, mostly focusing on blowjobs and regular sex, some doggie, but nothing like today’s porn. The movie wasn’t the important thing anyway.

I found myself struggling to pay attention to the movie because as soon as it hard started, dad had started kissing the back of my neck, around my ears. It kinda tickled and kinda felt weird and it kinda felt really good. As I watched on screen a couple make out and the woman begin to give him a blowjob, daddy breathed into my ear softly, his fingers sliding up the t-shirt.

“Just relax baby girl. Daddy loves you so much. You know he does. And daddy wants you to be his special girl, do you understand?”

I moaned as he touched my belly and slip up to my tiny nipples and touched them gently and I thought I did understand. I loved him with all my heart and I knew he meant he wanted me to be special like mommy was special to him. I felt him turn my head and kiss me and it wasn’t like any kiss I had ever had before, but it made my tummy warm and I almost cried during it.

“You do understand, don’t you baby girl?” he asked. I nodded and felt his hands explore my young body, touching every bump, every bit of smooth, every warm fold. I felt a hardness under my butt, pressing against me and daddy again told me how special I was to be with him. And the truth is, I did feel special. I loved my dad with every fiber of my being. I don’t say this to romanticize incest or what we were doing. I know, now, that he was sexually abusing me. That what we were doing was wrong. But in that moment, I wanted it to last forever. I think, even then, some small part of me wanted to marry daddy. I already was the “woman” of the house, and this was just one more step.

On the TV screen, the woman was on the floor, on her hands and knees, getting fucked as my dad touched my special place for the first time that I was aware, and slid his fingers along those lips. I felt a warmth I had never felt before as he touched me, kissing my neck, and then my mouth again as he rubbed along my lips. Unlike the lady on the TV, his fingers weren’t going in me. He just kept telling me I was the most special thing in his life and I will be honest. I think at that moment was the first time I went from loving my dad, to being in love with him. At least in a child-like sense, more akin to a crush perhaps.

My dad then lifted me up a bit and pulled down my panties, and I felt a heat on my butt. His cock, likewise was free, and as he held me and kissed my neck, I could feel and see it slide between my cheeks, my thighs, brushing the lips of my vagina. Its head was wet, and it felt so warm against me downstairs as my dad held me tighter, his hips bucking faster and faster. I shuddered as he grabbed my long hair and jerked my head back as he sucked hard on my shoulder, thrusting harder. He whimpered that he loved me and I was scared for a moment as I felt my daddy shake and I saw white cream erupt from his penis. Some of it hit my vagina, but most flew outward, onto the floor in front of the couch. He then held me tight, kissing me, telling me I was the most special girl in the world. And I loved him all the more for it.

He then asked me to get up and get a wet towel, and I noticed I had more on my legs than I had realized. I got a towel and wetted it, wiping myself, and then getting on the floor to clean it as well. As I did so, I felt my t-shirt lifted up, and dad’s warm hand on my now exposed butt. I looked up at him, over me, and I had never before felt so tiny, but it wasn’t in a scary way. He rubbed my butt as I cleaned his mess off the floor, feeling warm as he touched me down there, or his finger circled my butthole. I then got up and he pulled me to him.

“Clean me now, baby girl.” I started to use the towel and he simply shook his head.

“No honey, like the girl in the movie. Be special like her for me.”

I was scared, but I did as my daddy asked, licking at it like a popsicle. I didn’t really care for the taste, but the way he reacted made me so happy. He told me how proud he was of his little girl and my heart just exploded in love. I cleaned him slowly, but completely, but it wasn’t a blowjob in any sense of the word. More a slow licking clean. But it was enough for my dad who then kissed me and told me that our special time must be secret or people would take me away.

“Do you want that to happen?” he asked. Of course that scared me because he was all I had left and I couldn’t imagine a world in which he didn’t belong. I couldn’t even imagine going to bed without him. I shook my head furiously no, crying as he kissed my tears away.

“Don’t worry then baby girl. Just don’t tell people about our special time and we can have it again. Do you want to make daddy happy and have more special time?” I told him of course I did and we went back to watching TV, and later a game of Monopoly, like nothing unusual had happened. From my point of view, nothing had other than I felt more than a daughter to my father. I felt like a wife almost and though that should have disgusted me, it felt right and natural. I didn’t know then that all of this would just be the start of things to come. I had no idea how much these times would color my life, for good and bad. But I would.

May 10, 2017, 10:32:49 PM
Reply #2

Offline Skygazer

Chapter 3

Things began to change after that night. Dad and I took showers more regularly together, and when we cleaned each other, it was now important to clean each others genitals. It was sexual, but oddly also not sexual in an odd way. It was tender as he would kiss me, touching me lightly, making me warm. I’d do the same for him, and after the initial weirdness of watching a penis grow, it grew to be another part of the new normal. Rarely would we do anything other than touch during those moments, at least early on. It was just another facet to our daily ritual. Dad didn’t hang out with a lot of friends, and honestly, I wanted to be home taking care of him and the house instead of playing around with girls my age. They felt immature while when I was with daddy, I was more than a little girl. Yes, I was his special baby girl, but I was so much more and I loved it. I loved him.

We also watched more of daddy’s special movies. Not every night, but at least half of them. Most were standard fare. They were still weird and new to me, but anyone watching them today would have a big laugh at them. Some were slightly different. These videos didn’t come in a gaudy colored case with naked women on them. These VCR tapes had no labels on them at all. In them, I learned new lessons. Special time with dad’s wasn’t something only I did. The girls in these videos ranged from a bit younger, to a decent bit older than me, but they all loved their dads or uncles. Dad would explain to me as we watched them how everyone has special time, but no one talks about it because that’s rude and some people get jealous if they don’t have anyone to spend special time with. Those jealous people sometimes makes mommies or daddies go away because they were so jealous.

I, of course, was terrified by the thought of that. So that, coupled with my lack of care for other girls my age, led me to spend more, and more time with him. I did what homework I had to, but daddy didn’t seem to care much about it. He said stuff like that was less important than what we had and that we should just focus on each other. He did make sure I studied enough to stay in C territory, but beyond that, it was unimportant. I had other lessons to learn.

First of them, was learning to take care of dad with my mouth. I’d try to copy the women or, rarely, kids, in the VCR tapes, but I more learned from his words than anything. It’s amazing how things can become so natural when you are being praised and told how much you were loved. I didn’t care for the taste, but to see dads face looking down on me made my heart flutter. It was barely sex to me, it was all about making him happy, earning his love, seeing that look on his face as his breath quickened, as I felt the pulse of his cock, the sudden saltiness in my mouth. Those moments I not only felt so close to my father, but I felt like I was more than his daughter. After he would erupt, he’d pull me up to his lap, stroking my face, pulling the hair out of it, as he told me what a special baby girl I was. We’d kiss softly there as the movie played on, touching each other. Sometimes I’d fall asleep in his arms like that.

He taught me how to stroke his cock, how to touch him, how to kiss with my tongue. Sometimes while watching TV, I’d sit beside him, arm around me, cuddling after dinner, just slowly sliding my hand up and down his cock. When he’d get close, he’d say “Now baby girl” and I would lower my head and make sure there was no mess. When I was done, he’d kiss me, right on the lips and tell me how special I was. Some days I actually cried, I loved him so much. We’d only do it at home though, if we went out anywhere, we wouldn’t touch, because that was rude to do it in public and people got jealous then. I didn’t want anyone jealous of daddy. I wanted him all to myself.

I got better at cooking, and no longer needed his assistance. He’d still set the table, or sometimes bring me a cookbook, but otherwise, I reached the point where I was handling the household chores mostly by myself. Some people might look at it now as messed up, and they would be right. It was messed up. But I loved playing the homemaker. I loved taking care of my daddy, my man. Just as much as he loved taking care of me. Every night we’d snuggle together. After a while, he started having me snuggle nude, both of us in bed, feeling his hardness against me. Usually that was all, but when, some mornings, I woke up to sticky residue on my butt or thighs, I knew that daddy had felt the need and didn’t want to wake me up. I’d just clean up in the morning and that was that.

Most of the time, however, if it wasn’t me giving daddy a blowjob, it was the grinding, between and against my legs, my cheeks, my vagina. I knew to keep my legs close and tight and he’d grind until I felt that familiar heat against me. Then I’d clean him and the day was good. I even brought up sex to him, but on that front he said I wasn’t ready and that was probably true. I’d seen younger girls than me have sex but it seemed painful for them. Part of me didn’t care though and wished daddy made me his woman. I wanted that so bad, but I was always his baby girl. I wanted to ask him if I could be his wife, but I never had the courage.

The months rolled by and I was regularly taking care of daddy 3 times a day. Orgasms for me were few and far between, but he said that would change. And it eventually did, but not for almost another year and a half.

May 10, 2017, 10:33:43 PM
Reply #3

Offline Skygazer

Chapter 4

Slowly, the days turned to weeks, and then the weeks turned to months. Eventually came my 9th birthday, and then my tenth. For both of those, I had what few friends I knew over and my bedroom had a use once more beyond storage of my stuff. Things had continued pretty much the same as the wheel of life turned on. I had school except during the summer. Dad had his work. And I felt, most importantly, that we had each other.

There is no way to softball it, I was smitten and in love with my father. My heart fluttered every time I heard him arrive home. Every time he called me his special baby girl, I almost wanted to cry in joy. People may ask why, by 10, didn’t I know what was going on was wrong and the answer is simple. I was in love. I was his special girl. All I knew was that I wanted what we had to go on forever. At home we had been slowly growing more physical. Dad would playfully swat my butt often, or just stand behind me, huge. I had started to develop by then. I didn’t know it at the time, but I would “blossom” early and stop growing by the time I was 13. I was already almost to a B cup at ten, already. Heightwise, I was 4 and a half feet tall and was clocking in at just shy of 90 lbs.

As I cooked, he would sometimes wrap his arms around me, hugging me tight. Sometimes I could feel his hardness, sometimes I couldn’t, but he would often play with and massage my butt, or reach around and grope my budding chest. The best was when he’d hold one, reaching down my pants to cup my pussy, as he kissed my neck. If the food had a few minutes to cook, sometimes I’d even turn around and give him a blowjob.  I was getting to be a very good cocksucker by then. And yes, those were the words I used. Between the videos and my daddy, I had quite an advanced vocabulary. I rarely gagged anymore on my father, and my heart rushed when I felt the pulse and tasted his cum.

The only thing we hadn’t done yet was make love, though as of late, we’d gotten very close. He often, while we made out, slid his cock along my lips, and once pressed his head barely in me. I told him I was ready but he said I wasn’t, not yet. I had been so disappointed. If this all sounds weird to you, it didn’t to me. I was his wife in all but name only but I wanted to be it in reality as well. I fantasized about it. Again, it might have been weird but all we had was each other. At night, we still cuddled and watched movies. Now they tended to be a bit more graphic, nothing extreme by the standards of today, but more hardcore fucking, cum, and the like. We watched more child porn too, not that I thought of it as such, not then. I’d grind on his lap, or suck him, and often now he would finger me lightly or eat me out. I still had my hymen but I thought about wishing it gone. Only then would we be truly one, at least in my mind.

I remember when it finally happened. It was about two weeks after my tenth birthday. I came home from school and the house was awash in flowers and candles. I had no idea what was going on, but I saw on the couch a present. I ran to it and saw that it was addressed to me. The wrapping was plain, but when I opened the card, it only said, “Open me and put me on”. I don’t have to tell you how bad my hands shook when I unwrapped the box. I knew, when I saw it, that the time had finally come. Inside was a beautiful red teddy. And I don’t mean a bear, but a wonderfully soft, satin, teddy. It was sheer, basically see through, and short as well. Well, short for a full grown woman, but in my case it was probably just the right length. Along with it was the prettiest red lipstick I had ever seen. Despite my persistent inquiries, daddy hadn’t let me wear makeup and yet, here was some.

I rushed to the bathroom with my present, my heart thundering now in my chest. I was almost crying, I felt so excited, and so womanly. I quickly stripped out of my school clothes, until I was standing in the bathroom in my bra and panties. I knew a bra wasn’t to be worn with lingerie like this. I’d seen more than enough videos to know that.  I stared down at my panties. In some of the movies, the women wore them, and in some they didn’t. Mine were pink, but plain and didn’t match the specialness of my present, so I bent down and removed them as well. I then pulled on my present and then I did cry when I saw myself in the mirror. The only thought that ran through my head was one that no 10 year old should think. I look sexy, just like those women in the videos. And I did, at least in my own mind. I wiped my eyes and tried my best to make sure my breasts were in the right place in the teddy, but they were just a bit too small to “hold” in place. My hands shook as I tried to put on the lipstick and I’ll be honest, I did a terrible job. I put it on a bit too thick and just a bit too uneven, but for someone not practiced in the art of makeup, I didn’t do too bad of a job. I looked in the mirror and saw myself. The lingerie was sheer enough to see my breasts and nipples, though my pussy was obscured by it.

I stepped out of the bathroom, and heading to our room. I no longer thought of “my” room as mine, nor as dads room as “his”, it was ours. I pushed the door open and walked into the room. The lights were out but candles were lit. The lights and shadows danced in the room and my face beamed. I felt hands on my shoulders as my dad bent down to my ear and whispered to me.

“You look beautiful baby girl. I love my special girl so very much,” and with that he turned me and kissed me deeply. I still wasn’t the best French kisser but my mouth parted for his as our tongues wrestled. He effortlessly picked me up and carried me to our bed as he laid me down up on. His body pressed against mine and I loved the heat and weight upon me as we kissed. His scruffy beard scratched my face as I held onto his body, until we finally separated to breath, him leaning over my small body. I laughed at the lipstick smeared on his face.

“Think that’s funny do you, baby girl?” he asked and I nodded. His chest was bare and he stripped off his pants. His cock fell against my belly and I felt its warmth. I was scared now, excited and scared. I knew how special this was and I leaned up and kissed my father and told him I loved him.

“I know baby girl, and I love you. I know you’ve been wanting to be a woman for a while now. Are you ready?” he asked and I almost screamed yes. He laughed and reached down to my chest and tweaked my nipples, teasing them, and then he ran his thumb along my lower lip. I tilted my head and sucked on it and as I did, I saw the lust and love grow in my daddies eyes. He reached down with his other hand and felt my wetness. He then gripped my barely protruding clit and pinched it and I whimpered, surprised at the new action.

“My baby girl is wet. Are you ready to be my special slut?” he asked. I nodded, a bit hesitant. I’d heard the word many times before on the videos. But this was the first time he’d spoken it to me. He leaned down and kissed me softly and spoke again.

“It’s ok to be a slut, baby girl. You know I love my special girl. It’s ok to be a slut for me; it’s one of the best gifts you could ever give me. Don’t you want to be my special slut baby girl?” he asked and I nodded. I started to say yes, but overcome with lust he grabbed my legs and spread me, pressing his head against me. He reached over and squirted a gel onto his hands and stroked himself and then pressed into me. His hand was greasy and slick on my shoulder as I felt a tightness down there. I’d experienced my dad’s “need” before, and had gagged on his cock during those times. This was the same, but he was just barely in and pressing against my hymen. He kissed me deeply and whispered to me that it would hurt at first and then I screamed as he thrust in me.

I honestly was surprised at the pain. I’d seen so many videos of sex, even children, and they never screamed like I had just. I felt something tear in me and I whimpered, sobbing at the sudden pain. But dad didn’t let up. It was like something pent up inside him had broken free and though he kissed me and told me he loved me, he fucked me hard against the bed. For my part, I just clung to him, arms around his neck, and cried as I felt him pump into me again and again. I soon felt my legs being moved to his shoulder as he fucked me hard, and I screamed as he hit deep inside me. I didn’t know at the time, but it was him slamming against my cervix that was causing the pain. I was awash in it, held in a tight ball as my daddy fucked me. He didn’t last long in my tight hole. I soon felt him throbbing as he pulled out and I felt cum spray my body, chest and face. He shuddered as I sobbed, trembling and milked and wiped his cum off on my leg. I could see blood on his cock and my thigh, and just was half in shock and in pain. It had been nothing like what I had expected. I just hurt down there but I clung to daddy confused.

He got up, and got a wet towel and cleaned me up, kissing me, apologizing.

“I’m so sorry baby girl. You were just so beautiful and sexy I just lost myself. Are you OK? Do you forgive me?” I nodded and just held onto him, as he wiped my tender pussy. He let me cry for a few minutes, just holding me. I was feeling more normal then, when he went down and started to lick me and eat me. I tried to tell him I hurt too much, but he didn’t take no for an answer and soon I was happy he ignored me. I hurt yes, but there was no “need” this time. It was soft and gentle like my dad always was. He kissed my thighs and my pussy, and softly teased my clit. My lips even then were already a bit outy, and I moaned as his tongue parted them.

“I’m sorry baby, it’ll be better this time,” he told me, as he put on a condom this time, after eating me out for about ten minutes. I was close to cumming and he knew it. Normally I would have already, but I was still sore and tender. He parted my legs again and I cried a bit in fear but this time he kissed me deeply as he entered slowly. It still hurt, but this time was so different. He pushed in and out of me slowly but deeply, as we ran our hands along each others’ bodies.

We groped and made love and this time, with me wet and so close to orgasm, it was so much better. Before long, between his cock sliding in and out of me slowly and his thumb working my clit, I was twitching under him. He lasted much longer, though I know he came close when I orgasmed, but he powered through and lasted another ten minutes or so. It was the most intimate experience of my life and I held onto my dad tight as I felt him shudder again. It hurt a bit when he thrusted deep into me as he came, then collapsed on me. His weight was heavy but welcome as we continued to kiss. It felt weird having his cock still in me, but it felt nice to. I felt like I belonged to him and him to me. The pain of the first sex was almost forgotten.

He pulled out of me, and kissed me, stroking my face. I watched as he pulled the condom off his softening cock and he again ran his thumb along my lip, but this time he pressed down and I opened my mouth. He brought up the condom and dumped the cum in it in my mouth and told me to open my mouth wide. I did as my daddy told me and he told me I was a wonderful slut and he loved his baby girl. I smiled, eyes wet as I swallowed and we curled up in bed, together. I was his woman now. And at that time, I couldn’t have been happier.

May 10, 2017, 10:34:11 PM
Reply #4

Offline Skygazer

Chapter 5

Over the next months, we grew more and more sexual, typically having some form of sex or play daily, often multiple times. Dad used condoms the majority of the time, only rarely going bare. Those instances were typically of the needy, fucking, type. I quickly grew accustomed to having “two” fathers. One, when he came home, kissed me and patted me on the butt. We’d cuddle and watch TV, melting in his arms as he told me how much he loved his special baby girl. On those days, I felt like his lover and his wife as we made love, laughed at each other’s private little jokes, and went to sleep, spooning, cradled in his arms.

Then there was the other dad. This dad was often angry from work, or just tired of bullshit. He was usually horny, but not always. This one didn’t call me special very often, and almost never baby girl. It was usually slut; sometimes bitch if he was angry. He didn’t hit me, or beat me, or anything like that. It wasn’t like that. But, without saying explicitly, he taught me the difference between sex and fucking. Making love and being used. Being one with each other and being a hole to dump cum in.

It wasn’t daily or usually even weekly, but there would come a day when he’d come home. He wouldn’t be smiling those days. I’d be doing my homework or laundry or cooking. I’d turn and smile and I’d know he was in one of those moods. He’d grab me and shove me against the wall, over the couch, or just on the floor. If I was wearing pants they’d be torn down, if it was a skirt it’d be hiked up. Panties were often just shoved to one side as he thrust in me, fucking me as hard as he could. It never crossed to abuse in my mind, but it often left me sore and bruised. I’d just be held and pounded until he released in me or against me. If he’d have presence of mind to use a condom, it’d be emptied on my face or in my mouth. Once he just shoved the entire thing in my mouth and told to suck it clean. Those days, I truly did feel like a slut or worse.

Later on, after he’d calmed down, it’d be kisses again. Hugs and apologies and I’d sometimes cry a bit and forgive him. He would explain that sometimes men just needed a release and that was what good women were for. They took care of their men, in all ways. A good woman was both a wife and a whore, a slut and saint, a hole and a lover. I’d smile and tell him I understood even when I didn’t really. I just wanted him happy and I’d do whatever I could to ensure that.

Once I started having my periods and started really maturing, things had to change somewhat. At 11, I hadn’t grown much taller, just a couple inches, about 4’8”, but I was getting close to 100 lbs. I was actually losing a bit of my chubbiness but my chest was rapidly growing. I was a large B now and regularly got stares from not only the boys in class but even adults. Some teased me about it, but when I told daddy, he’d only smile. He’d stroke my hair and tell me to take off my top and expose my chest. When I did, he’d look at me with the same looks those in class gave me, except he was there, touching my chest, pinching my nipples. He would suck on them softly as I moaned, his finger sliding between my legs and fingering me. One day, however, it didn’t lead to sex or me giving him a blowjob.

“Here honey, I want you to rub this on your chest,” my dad said, handing me baby oil. I took it, looking at him confused as I took off my shirt as we watched some television.

“What is this for?” I asked, not questioning him, but just asking for explanation.

“I know you’ve been insecure about your chest baby girl, and I just wanted to show my special slut something fun we can do with it,” he said, standing up and removing his pants. His cock fell free, already hard.

“You mean, like in the videos?” I asked, knowing what he likely meant. I bit my lip as I got oil on my hand, and started rubbing it over my chest. Daddy smiled, stepping in front of me to help me, massaging the oil in.

“Exactly like that, my special slut. I’m going to do some other things too, but I just want you to relax. Now shush baby girl.”

With that I did as I was told as daddy oiled my large B cup chest and gently got me down in front of him. He gripped my tits and pushed his cock against them, between them, mashing them around his cock as he thrust up and down. I lowered my head to lick at his cock, but didn’t care for the oil on his cock. When I tried to lift my head up though, I was told to keep my head down and keep licking so I did. It was a weird sensation, feeling a cock thrusting between one’s chest, but it wasn’t uncomfortable really.

“Finger that pussy, slut,” dad demanded as he held onto my tits and fucked his cock between them. I reached down and did as I was told. Me fingering for him was something fairly recent, he liked seeing me spread my thick lips for him. It was rare during “special” time, usually reserved for when I was being called a slut. I blushed as I licked his oily head, trying to just focus on it and my fingers as I thrust them up in me, 2 fingers diving into my sex. Daddy had explained to me that I had a meaty pussy, with lips and even a clit that protruded outward. Looking back on it, I’m happy that I didn’t grow up in the age of thongs, as even then, it’d be dental floss to me.

“Hold your tits together slut,” he told me and I reached up, and kept them around his cock. He ran his hand through my hair and jerked my head back, looking at him. I felt his thumb glide along my lip, and then he pushed his thumb fully in my mouth, sucking on it. He kept stroking my head as I sucked his thumb, cock pumping so warm against my oiled chest. I was awash in mixed feelings, right up until he pulled my head back hard and spit in my face.

That was something new, and I didn’t like it. I’d never had “loving” daddy transition to “needy” daddy like this, and he couldn’t have shocked me more when he’d spit on me than if he’d slapped me.  I was sitting there, under him, about to cry when he pulled back and started stroking his cock hard. He told me to stay still and I did and felt the sudden heat of cum spray in my face and eye. I whimpered but he grabbed my hand and told me to not move. So I didn’t as he finished pumping, dripping cum on my face. Then he took his head and smeared it in my cheeks and in my hair. My eye was shut tight as I felt the cum drip off of me, onto the floor and my chest. Dad, for his part, slumped back on the couch, looking at me.

“Finger yourself. Cum” was all he said. So I did, I rubbed myself, barely stable, confused and scared and feeling…something new. Cheap. I grinded myself but it took long minutes before I was able to even get close, my fingers working deep. Dad got up and shoved me over on my hands and knees.

“Keep fingering, no matter what I do”

So I did, I kept humping my hand, my clit fully protruding finally, soaking wet, when I felt dad’s finger slide into my ass. I grunted, feeling him finger me there, whimpering as he kept telling me to be a fucking slut and cum. All that made it harder though and it as all I could do to focus on it and not dry up. He moved down to my pussy and shoved two fingers, then a third in me, after I’d been playing for almost ten minutes. He pumped my pussy with his fingers and then his cock again. He didn’t last long but I finally came as he pounded me doggie style on the floor. He pulled out and came on my back and sat back down, clearly tired.

“Clean yourself up,” was all he said and I did. I refused to look at the mirror as I went into the bathroom. I just turned on the fan, got in the shower, but I didn’t rush to wash myself. Instead, with hot water pouring down on me, I just balled up and cried. I didn’t know what I had done wrong, but I’d clearly done something to upset him. He’d started out loving and playful and I’d somehow made him mad. I just sobbed, lost, wondering what I had done wrong.

May 10, 2017, 10:34:54 PM
Reply #5

Offline Skygazer

Chapter 6

Over the next year, I hit puberty and a hell of a growth spurt. I grew about 6 inches over the following year, and my chest grew to a full D cup. I was breaking about 115 lbs now, a bit chubby or solid, but I was not really looking like a child anymore. It wasn’t baby fat as my cheeks slimmed and my body grew more curvy. This, of course, garnered much more attention from boys and men. I felt their stares wherever I went and the boys taunted me constantly. I didn’t want any of the attention, not really. If my mom had been alive, maybe she’d have explained to me what was going on and how to deal with it. But I didn’t have her and I didn’t want to bother my dad with my issues either.

Our special time was near constant these days, but I never knew which form it would happen. One day it would be a smile and a cuddle, the next, a crude comment about the slutty udders I was growing. Despite everything though, there was exactly only one man in the world whose opinion and thoughts and wants mattered and that was my father. I defaulted to ignoring the boys at school, but the men when I was out, in their looks I saw daddy.

As for daddy, work wasn’t going well, which was often taken out on me. Again, I don’t want you to think he beat me. He didn’t. But he was growing steadily more sexually aggressive. He talked down to me more often, and explained daily that a woman’s place was at her man’s feet, serving him and making their lives better. Some days that meant cooking daddy the best meal that I could. Others, it meant being shoved against the couch and fucked like an animal for ten minutes until cum was dumped on my back or in me. He loved cumming in me once he got me on the pill.

Getting me on the pill had been extremely humiliating. He told me that we had to go to a doctor so I couldn’t get pregnant and he hated condoms. I told him I didn’t want to get pregnant yet either, to which he had responded that I need to understand that it was his concerns that mattered, not mine. He told me that he would explain why I needed them and I just needed to go along with him and I had. We had gone in, and he had chatted friendly with my doctor, a guy that apparently dad had gone to school with. I was sitting there, trying to be a big girl, no a woman, for him, while they were talking. I didn’t speak up, not to interrupt them. After they had reminisced for a short bit, dad told the doctor the issue that I was having.

“Well, you see Bill, I came home from work a few weeks back, and well, I’m ashamed to tell ya, but she was all but naked with a boy. I damn near killed the little shit weasel but he got out and she won’t tell me who it was. But, well, you see her body is ahead of her mind and I can’t always keep her from being stupid. Can you help us out?” Dad had pleaded. I felt ashamed as the doctor looked at me, like I was some filthy little slut as he nodded, and told my dad that he could get me on birth control pills. They had talked like I wasn’t even there, as he mentioned that maybe a beating was in order. I saw that look in his eye though, same as my dad’s. So I was now on the pill and most days dad took full advantage of it, dumping his loads in me.

It’s hard to explain my mind at that time. I still, fully, 100% loved my dad in every way, including ways no daughter should love their father. I not only wanted his affection and love, I craved it, as well as sex with him. Most encounters now resulted in me orgasming at least once, and while dad didn’t go out of his way to make me cum, he always seemed to enjoy it when I did. As before, you might wonder why I hadn’t realized just how outside the norm it was for what we were doing and all I can say is that I was blinded by love. My media diet was mostly his shows and the porn we watched together, which ranged from child pornography to normal stuff to hardcore sex scenes involving multiple men. Sex was just a natural part of my life, and I ate up everything he told me about women, and I strove to be that woman for him.

That not to say everything was perfect. Yes we fucked almost daily, yes I slept with him every single night. Yes I kissed him and moaned his name and shuddered with powerful orgasms. I also cried often in the shower, or in the room that was supposed to be mine. I was anxious all of the time, trying to understand constantly where I had fucked up, where I had failed to be a good daughter or lover or cook for him. My emotional state was a series of constant highs and lows. I don’t think I can explain how exhausting it was, being constantly on guard, trying my best to be ready at any moment for his whims. And worst of all, was the fact that I wanted him to be happy, I wanted him to be satisfied. Which, was how, as my twelfth birthday approached, I was willing to do what it took for him to be happy.

“Are you sure baby girl? I don’t think my little slut is ready for a cock up her ass. I don’t think you’re big enough yet, you’re still just a little girl,” dad said, pushing my buttons in exactly the right way. I, of course, pleaded with him, telling him otherwise.

“I’m not a little girl anymore daddy. Look at me. I’m not,” I said, petulantly, unaware of what I was asking for. “You’ve had your finger up there several times. I know it’ll make you happy daddy!”
He, of course, smiled at me, looking down at me in several different ways. Stroking my chin.

“It’ll hurt the first time, even if I go slow. I’ll have to go slow since you’re so little” Of course, once again, it was said with a smirk on his face.

“Daddy, please, I love you. I’m not a little girl, don’t say that. Please,” I pleaded, all but crying. So desperate for his love then.

And that was all he needed, as he picked me up from the couch, and playfully rushed me to our bedroom. I was scared, of course, of the pain. It was always uncomfortable when he had stuck a finger in my butt. I thought, however, with lube and everything it would be a lot better and I knew that sex often hurt. It felt like an adventure, something new, as he sat me down on the bed. I stripped as he kicked off the sweats he had been wearing, and leaned over to grab some baby oil. I laid down on my stomach, shaking with anticipation. I let out a small moan as I felt the oil poured onto my ass and his strong fingers kneading it.

“Face to the bed, raise up your ass, slut,” daddy told me, and I did as he said. I felt the cool oil run between my sex and as he massaged my ass, his hand would occasionally cup and rub my pussy. I was grunting softly at the feel of everything. I them felt him spread my cheeks and felt a coolness as he pressed his finger in my ass, spreading me enough to pour oil inside me too. I was whimpering at that as he fingered me deep. It still felt somewhat weird, but it didn’t feel nearly as uncomfortable with the oil. My moaning quickly resumed as he rubbed his hands all over my ass.

“OK baby girl,” he said, before correcting himself. “I’m sorry, my sexy woman,” he said and now I know he had a smirk as he said it, “Now, this might hurt, just try to relax my slut.” At that, I felt him rubbing his cock along my cheeks, my crack, and lightly pressing at my tight entrance. It felt so good and I moaned, excited to please my dad, my lover in a new way. That feeling didn’t last long however. I heard dad grunt and press tight, holding my hips and I felt a sudden pain, unlike anything I had before. I’d had painful poops, of course, but this, this was electric pain shooting up my body. I felt dad thrust and his head popped in and I just screamed.

“Shhhhhh, slut, just relax. It’s OK baby girl. Just take it”

I tried to, I wanted to, but this hurt so bad. He was holding me tight under him, bucking forward again and again, and I felt like my insides were being torn out. I started screaming, not any words, just screaming hoping he would stop. He didn’t though, he just kept thrusting against my ass as I sobbed hysterically, clawing at the bed.

“Shut the fuck up baby, just relax. You wanted this remember. This is what good girls do”

I wanted to be his big girl, his woman, so bad but I couldn’t. I slapped back at him, screaming and crying, begging him to stop. That I had changed my mind. That it hurt too bad. And my dad started to pull out. It hurt, god did it hurt, but I felt him pulling out of my ass. And then, I nearly passed out in pain as he thrust deep into my guts, pumping me furiously. I don’t even think I said many words, just guttural screams as my daddy pounded my tight ass, fucking it, driving in deep. My hips were no longer up high, I was prone on the bed as he raped my ass. I didn’t really, until that moment, understand the word rape. I’d heard it obviously, but I had never understood it. I did now. This was pain, agony, no pleasure at all. My daddy was pumping into my ass and he didn’t care that I was screaming. I felt my face smashed against the mattress, muffling my screams as he sucked and bit at my neck and shoulder.

“You feel so fucking good. You’re ass is so fucking tight. Take it, Take it!”

I barely could make out what he was saying over my crying and shrieking. My nose hurt as my face was smashed down, and my ass exploded into pain with every thrust. Suddenly I felt a burning deep in me as my dad shoved one last time deep in me and came in me. I just sobbed as heat flooded my ass and my father laid on top on me. After a minute I felt a sharp pain as he pulled out. I heard him mutter a “fuck” and then told me not to move. I couldn’t have. I was still crying hysterically, my chest shuddering. I felt a cold warm towel rub against my ass and just sobbed more. He finished wiping me up and I felt him hold me, kissing my face. He told me what a wonderful and big girl I was. How he had never loved me more than he had in this moment. All I could do was look through wet eyes at the towel he’d tossed on the floor.

It was smeared with shit, but there was a fair bit of red there too. It’s wasn’t coated in either, but I could see where he’d likely cleaned his cock off, off to the side, from the bigger smear that came from me. I stared at it numbly, until he told me to try to use the bathroom. I got up and started crying again, walking slowly to the bathroom. As I walked, a brown and red and white mix slid down my leg. I collapsed on the toilet, exhausted, numb. I pushed, trying to use the bathroom and it hurt, as cum and shit ran out of me. I wiped myself clean, a bit disturbed at the blood on the toilet paper and as I walked back into the bedroom and saw dad cleaning it up. He kissed me and told me he loved me and laid out a couple towels on the bed.

“Just in case” was all he said. He held me tight in his arms and kissed me. For the first time in my life that didn’t comfort me. His constant words of love, felt hollow for the first time. It wasn’t an epiphany. Tomorrow would be another day and things would revert back to old patterns. But, the first rocks were sliding down the mountainside of my life. Most days when I felt hurt, I hated myself for not being good enough. That night, I felt that way as well. But I was also angry. Angry at the man I loved with all my heart. I couldn’t understand how he could hurt me so bad and not stop. I still couldn’t as his arms cradled me. All I had wanted was his love, so why did I hurt so bad and just feel empty?


May 11, 2017, 07:27:24 PM
Reply #6

Offline vile8r

Such an awesome storyteller Sky!

May 15, 2017, 08:46:39 PM
Reply #7

Offline Skygazer

Chapter 7

My 12th birthday came and went without much fanfare. Things had gotten complicated between my dad and me, and though he hadn’t anally raped me since, it was still on my mind. He still held me, and kissed me, and told me that he loved me. And I believed it. I know I loved him. We still played on the couch while watching TV or movies. We still slept together ever night, and most nights we had sex or dad fucked me, but nothing like that night. Still, while I didn’t feel cold towards him, I was wary.

It wasn’t long after that I started looking into things, asking the occasional question of a friend, carefully worded, or reading at the library. Sadly, this was before the internet, although a search on Google would have simply drowned me in incest porn. And, as I explored and questioned,  a picture slowly began to form. It became clearer, and clearer, that everything my dad had told me was a lie.

Again, to many people, this would probably be a “duh” moment, especially in the internet age. For me, however, it rocked my world. I knew that my relationship was special with my daddy. I knew we were closer than most girls were, especially with their mothers. But every girl I asked about sex, told me basically some variation of the same couple stories. All but one of those around my age swore they hadn’t had sex at all. One told me she’d given oral sex to a guy at school, but she wouldn’t say who. A few older girls had had sex that I asked, but every time was claimed a boyfriend. Of family, even when asked of distant cousins, none had or claimed to anyway. It left me reeling.

Most girls, even a couple years older than me had had sex. I’d been sexually active, even if not having sex, since I was 8. Most girls I knew weren’t on the pill, but I was. Almost none had seen porn, though if you asked kids today, I’m sure the answer would be drastically different. Of those that had, it had been just nudie mags or one of their parents dirty movies, which just features normal sex. None, except one, had had any experience like mine. And that girl simply wouldn’t talk about it. Looking back now, I wish I had opened up to her, because something had bothered her. But she wasn’t a close friend. In a couple years she would be pregnant and she’d leave high school and I never saw her return. Otherwise, everything I knew, as normal, as love, was abnormal.

I wish I could say I hated my dad, that I ran away, and never saw him again. Or that I confronted him, shamed him, and never let him touch me again. But both of those would be lies. I didn’t hate him. I loved him. I loved my daddy. But I was angry. I was hurt. I started to focus on the anal rape, the rough times he fucked me, when he called me slut. And the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to hurt him. I didn’t want to hurt him physically. I was tiny compared him and anyways, I didn’t think like that. I wanted his heart to hurt, like mine did. I wanted him to cry, to feel betrayed.

Now I don’t want you think I was being a devious child, planning out some complicated scheme. It wasn’t that. He had lied to me. He had betrayed me. So I would do the same to him. It was as simple as that. If someone slaps you, you slap them back. My slap just wasn’t a physical one. See, due to my early puberty and growth, I was fully accustomed to guys looking at me, or even occasionally trying to steal a grab or a touch. Also, thanks to my dad, I had little relations typically with kids my age, especially outside of school. I just stayed at home, because I was in love and wanted to be with my lover. But, I did know that guys looked. And I did know how to relate to men. It was all sexual. But it was enough. I just simply had to wait.

It happened a few weeks later. I was riding the bus as usual, and had sat further towards the back of the bus than I typically had. The bus carried everyone, from kindergarten to high school, so older boys and girls sat towards the back. I’d been slowly sitting further and further back, and one day, some guys who lived way up the subdivision from me, flirted with me. Honestly it was more teasing and talking about my “rack”. Normally I would have ignored them, but I saw this as a chance. So when one of them talked about my chest, I smiled. Nothing much happened that bus ride besides the teasing and flirting, but I got their attention.

The next day, I planned to get more. Typically I rode the bus all the way to my house, but that day, I got off with the two guys and a couple smaller kids, at the front of the subdivision. They were both in high school, though just barely, Tim and Alec were both 14 I though, both freshman.

“So why did you get off here anyway?” Tim asked. I shrugged at them and told them it was a beautiful day. And the truth was, it actually was. It was a nice warm day, and I was wearing a nice top and jeans. I was wearing a bra, had no choice about that with my D cups, but with my shirt tucked it, it accented my curves nicely without showing cleavage. I knew they were glancing at me, often just staring at my chest. I didn’t mind. A part of me liked the attention. I yelped suddenly when Alec tickled me from behind as we walked on the sidewalk.

“Alec! Stop,” I screamed, laughing and slapping at him. Tim then took the opportunity to tickle me as well now that my back was turned to him. I spun around and suddenly found myself attacked from both sides, laughing and trying to scream stop. I got flushed and ran behind a bush, breathing hard.

“Guys, please, stop it!” I said, gulping air. I was breathing hard, face red. They relented and I followed them, chatting about playing TMNT when they got to Tim’s home.

“Do you play video games?” Tim asked. I had to admit I had barely played any. With that, they both asked me I wanted to try some. I smiled and shrugged, telling them sure. I followed them to Tim’s house, he said his parent’s worked late and I followed them to his room. He got some cold soda’s for us and we just chatted. I noticed they were both sitting close to me. They booted up their NES and tried to teach me how to play games, laughing at my complete lack of skill. Alec would poke my side to tease me when I did something wrong, which only frustrated me more. This eventually led to another tickle fight. I tried to tickle back but this time I stumbled and Tim fell against me on the bed.

The tension was tight in the room at that moment. I was half against the bed and Tim, and his hand was on my chest. I, myself, had gone into that space I sometimes went with my father when he touched me. A very submissive space; and as Tim stood back up, his hand lingered as I stared at him. He kept touching my breast and when I didn’t pull away, he touched my other one. Alec just stared, dumbfounded as Tim clumsily pawed at me. My breathing was quickening in this new experience, as I looked at the two boys. I looked down as Alec reached up, and touched my chest as well. I felt blood run to my face and my crotch, getting moist, as they touched my chest. It was clear neither had done so before. And it was in that moment I decided to hurt my father.

I stood up, pulling off my shirt, as I leaned forward to kiss Tim. His hands were warm on my chest and bra now, as was Tim’s. I was scared, terrified, but I tried to hide it as went to Tim, kissing him as well. The look of awe on their face strangely excited me, as I reached back and unhooked my bra. Both boys were rock hard, and I started unzipping them as my chest was pawed at, and kissed. I moaned, and as their pants dropped and I touched their cocks, they moaned too. But no words were spoken. I think, on some primal level, we all knew that talking then would have scared us, made us chicken out. Instead, at twelve years old, I found myself being kissed by a mostly naked 14 year old, cupping my chest, as I rubbed Alec’s cock.

I wish I could say it was the most mind blowing sex I’d ever had, but I was experienced by then. Tim and Alec were not. Alec quickly exploded on my hand and leg. I broke the kiss with Tim and knelt down, sucking on Alec’s cock. He spurted a few more times in my mouth and then I licked my hand clean. Watching and kneeling down as I did that, stroking, Tim came as well, on my chest. I sucked him off as well, then was handed a towel.

The spell was broken after that, and I quickly left, embarrassed after the moment had passed. I bolted out, quickly throwing on my bra and top. As for the guys, I think they were too dumbstruck and were still trying to process what had happened. If anything, the experience showed me that what I knew, and what others had done, was vastly different. I quickly headed home and I was both pleased and terrified to see that my dad was home. He should have been at work, but it had been erratic lately. I came in, and he was just in sweats, watching TV and drinking a beer. I came in, went to the fridge, and got myself a beer too. He let me drink occasionally, though never so much that I got drank. I didn’t even ask permission though as I popped it open and stood before him. This was my moment. I was gonna hurt him. Make him feel like I had felt. I poured the cheap beer back, drinking about a third of it, trying to impress him before I stopped, wiping my mouth. His mouth was in a confused smirk.

“I just wanted you to know, that you hurt me daddy,” I said, my voice already cracking. It was all I could do to keep going.

“You hurt me and I told you to stop and you wouldn’t!” I screamed. “So you know what, I just sucked off two guys from my bus. How the fuck do you like that!” I said. By now, I was crying, shaking. I was terrified with what I had just blurted out. In my mind, I’m not sure what I expected. I think I wanted him to cry, or to beg forgiveness. Part of me wanted him so mad he might slap me, in anger. I wanted a reaction from him of hurt or betrayal. He stood up and jerked the beer from my hand and tossed it towards the trash in the kitchen, spilling. I grew quiet, meek, with him towering over me. He grabbed my hair and jerked my head back, kissing me hard, insistent. He then shoved me down and dropped his sweats, shoving himself in my mouth.

What I experienced then, was the hardest blow job I’d ever done. Later, I would learn of the term face fuck or skull fuck, but I hadn’t heard that crude of term from what he was doing to me then. All I know was he was holding my head hard as he thrust in my mouth, jabbing it, deep. I clung to him, holding on, crying as pumped his hips and jerked my hair hard up and down.

“You like sucking cock you dirty little slut? You like that? You like this? Of course you do you dirty little skank,” he said to me. I didn’t understand what was happening. He was smiling and I was choking on his cock. I didn’t know what was wrong. Of all the reactions I had expected, him smiling was not one of them. Tears ran down my face, and snot ran out my nose as I almost threw up on his cock. He jerked my hair, pulling some strands of it out by its roots, as he pumped faster. I did puke a bit then and somehow forced it down, swallowing it when daddy shoved me back and came on my face. I leaned against the couch, choking for air, wheezing, trembling under him. He looked down at me and told me to clean myself and I did.

After that, I did my homework, and cooked dinner. He called me girl instead of baby girl. He touched and groped me as we watched TV and told me I was a good girl. A good slut. That night, we fucked, a bit hard but nothing too extreme. He came deep in me and after I had gone to the bathroom, he held me close. If anyone watched our daily lives, our daily routine, they’d have noticed nothing different between us. But I did. He hadn’t called me special once. And I didn’t know it then, but he’d never call me his special baby girl again.

May 15, 2017, 10:41:15 PM
Reply #8

Offline vile8r

One of your best chapters, Sky! Loved her little escapade with the school boys.

June 05, 2017, 09:27:43 PM
Reply #9

Offline Skygazer

Chapter 8

Things quickly became different outside of my home. I started spending more time with Alec and Tim. It wasn’t only sex stuff either, we gamed and spent time often just hanging out. Things escalated quickly however, to blow jobs, to full on sex.

The first time, again with both of them, was a clumsy affair. I’d have already given them a few blowjobs so they didn’t explode at a touch but they were still far from experienced, especially as I was. I took Alec first, as time watched, both of us naked on the bed. We kissed but I made sure not to touch him below the waist, in fear of him finishing before he started. I parted my legs for him as we made out, his skin so warm and urgent against mine. I was already wet as he slid against my slit and after a couple thrusts, entered me. I felt him shudder and it was barely a few awkward thrusts before I felt his heat in me. He sheepishly apologized and I kissed him and told him it was ok.

Tim lasted a bit longer in me, actually just starting to get a proper rhythm before his cum flooded my pussy. We made out as he softened in me, sliding out. I rushed to the bathroom, cum leaking down my legs as I cleaned up. We threw our clothes back on before his mom got back from work and we just played games. Occasionally one would grope me, or kiss me, and I felt something. A need being fulfilled that was lacking. The attention excited me, the hands on me, the lust, I loved it all.

On some level I might have known why, though at the time I’d have been hard pressed to explain it or put it into words. It was really simple, looking back. My dad’s treatment pushed me towards them, both sexually and emotionally. I had been raised the past four years with the mindset of relating to men sexually. I had almost no normal friends as all my free time had previously been spent with dad. I didn’t know how to relate to the older boys outside of sex. They were getting me used to another sensation that I previously had only received from my father. Attention. Even as my dad was growing colder and seemingly just using me for chores and as a hole, the guys seemed to actually like me. I know now most of it probably had to do with the sex, but at the time, I just didn’t feel alone.

Dad, for his part, was generally good to me. Sometimes if he was home when I got home from the Tim’s house, he’d question me. He’d hold my face by the chin, and give me a look that would just melt me. Despite everything, I wanted him. I wanted his love, his touch, his control. Call me a damned fool, but I loved my dad. He’d look at me, and reach down, unzipping my jeans or shorts, shoving them to the ground. Then I’d feel his warm, rough hand slide down my belly and inside my panties, probing me. I could do nothing as he firmly held my chin, eyes never leaving mine. He’d feel my wetness, often renewed just by that look, and ask me what I did. I’d tell him, sometimes a bit ashamed, sometimes proud and defiant. Sometimes he kissed me like my dad of old, passionately and lovingly. Sometimes he squeezed my chin so much it hurt before slapping my tits or hooking his fingers in my pussy and pulling me towards him. It always ended in sex however. More and more, it ended in fucking. Cum dripping from me, used, as he pushed me away.

We still played often after dinner, and I still slept with him. Most nights we had sex then as well. Most nights, it was good. A father driving his twelve year old daughter into the bed, as she shuddered and clung to him. Dad often, if we had fucked doggie, would stay in me, spooning me with his shrinking cock still inside me. He started calling me his dirty little slut more often, replacing, slowly, his special baby girl. I swear, sometimes when I came home straight from school, he actually seemed disappointed that I hadn’t fucked them. He even fucked me anally one Friday, bent over the couch, crying as he slammed his cock into my unprepared frame. All the while calling me a fucking tease. I just took it as best I could, crying and not understanding his “lesson”. After he was done, I’d limp to the bathroom, crying as the cum and runny mess dripped out of me. Then I’d be angry again, and the next day I’d be at Tim’s house, savoring my chance to “punish” dad by telling him what’d I’d done. I was so stupid then. So clueless.

The next time I went by their place though, Alec wasn’t there. But some of his other buddies were. Word was getting out about the twelve year old slut, it seemed. I shouldn’t have been shocked, but at the time I was. Tim had walked me back to his room and here are two boys I barely know by sight, groping at me and asking me if I really blew and fucked Tim and Alec. I stood there uncomfortably, nodding yes. Tim introduced me to Steve and John, both of which were sophomores and 15 years old. John seemed nervous about the entire situation but Steve clearly was not. He walked right up to me, cupping my breasts without even a “Hi”. My face burned when he looked at me and asked me if I was a slut, to which I meekly shrugged which made him laugh. Tim then got between us, sensing some tension I guess and he kissed me, as he pulled up my shirt. Every instinct told me I should leave but I didn’t. My nipples under my bra hardened as the cool air hit them and he unclasped my bra. I was expecting him to make out or play with me in front of them but instead he turned displaying me to his friends.

“See guys, I told you she had bigger tits than most seniors!” he laughed, playing with them. He pinched my nipple and yelped a bit as they laughed at me. I laughed along as well, but it was an uncomfortable laugh. Tim then pulled down my shorts and panties and asked me to spread my legs for them. I blushed hard, but strangely a part of me was excited by all the attention. Another part was equally ashamed but at least thankful Tim had asked instead of just displaying me. I got on my back on the bed and spread my legs and Steve again came forward.

“Sluts a bit chubby but fuck is her pussy fat!” he said, making me blush. I’d felt sexy, and dirty, but his comments were the first to make me feel ugly. He cupped my outy heavy lips and stroked them and to my shame, I whimpered a bit. He them palmed my pussy and laughed at me.

“Damn, the sluts soaked aren’t you?”

I blushed and nodded again, when he gripped my hood. “Speak up slut! Say it!” he said cruelly.

“Y…yes I’m soaked,” I whispered. I wanted to be gone; I wanted to be anywhere but there. Tim and Alec were fun. I loved my dad. Steve, however, didn’t see me. He saw a thing. Again, at 12, I couldn’t have put that into words, but I knew on a fundamental level that I didn’t matter to Steve. He quickly just unzipped and shoved his pants down, telling his friends that he couldn’t wait to feel that fat fucking pussy around his cock. I wished he’d be quick like Tim and Alec’s first times, but Steve had clearly had sex. He shoved me down and started fucking me furiously, humping away. He sucked my nipples, then bit at my neck and he told me again and again to “take it”. And I did, I grunted, I moaned, and eventually I came under his furious fucking. He laughed at that and told time that I really was a cheap fucking slut and with a few more thrusts, he came deep in me. Then he kissed me deeply and somehow I felt even dirtier.

John was next, but he was more uncertain and Steve was yelling at him, telling him what to do. I actually felt sorry for him and he looked like he was about to cry under the pressure. He wasn’t ready for what was going on, not like this. So I slid down and gave him a blowjob, my head bobbing up and down on his cock. Steve still egged him on, telling him to hump my face, but I mostly controlled the pace, even slowing a bit to keep him from cumming to quick. Still, he barely lasted a minute.

Tim was last and I got fucked doggie by him. It was his first time in that position and he barely lasted a minute as well, as much due to the pressure as anything else. Steve fucked me doggie as well, and it reminded me so much of my dad at his worst. I was just a hole at that moment, for most of them and I just started crying. I wasn’t sobbing, but tears were running down my face when I felt the heat fill me for a 3rd time.

I rushed to the bathroom and just slumped. I don’t know why, but I started rubbing myself, maybe to just feel good, to counter the shame I felt after him. In a few minutes I was shaking, trembling, and still crying as I twitched to an orgasm as cum dripped out of me into the toilet under me. I spasmed one last time and just broke down crying. In seconds I felt an arm around me, and looked up to see Tim holding me. He was alone, having quickly kicked Steve and John out, and had watched the whole thing.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know…I’m so sorry” he repeated again and again. It was confusing because he was clearly hard from watching me masturbate, his cock pushing against the sweats he had hastily thrown on. I just clung to him and pulled him down to the bathroom floor and I urged him on when I saw him hesitate.

“Please, please,” was all I could say. I didn’t know the words to explain the need for what I wanted. I just wanted to be touched and needed in a way I hadn’t been given earlier. I wrapped my legs around him on the cold tile floor, my head leaning up, straining to kiss him. Our tongues entwined as he pressed in me and slowly fucked me. I grinded against him and it was good even if it was done in a few minutes, again, hot cum filling my pussy. We laid there for long minutes, him still inside me, as I cried again. He repeated that he was sorry. That I thought I would have liked it.

“I did, I was just… Don’t let them be mean.” With that, I cried again and he told me they wouldn’t be. After a bit, I got up, and freshened up, and we gamed for a bit. I even gave him a blowjob after another hour or so, before heading out. We kissed deeply and I savored it. It wasn’t a kiss of love, I’d felt those and had only felt that love from my father. But it was from someone who at least cared for me, who wanted me. And that was more than enough. Later that afternoon, I arrived home to find my dad waiting. He asked me to tell me about my dad and instead of being proud and defiant, I meekly told him. After I told him about Steve, he slapped my tit so hard my eyes got wet. Then he shoved me down and reminded me of Steve all over again.

June 05, 2017, 09:28:26 PM
Reply #10

Offline Skygazer

Chapter 9

The next several months rolled by pretty quick. I quickly got a reputation at school as word got out. Despite that, I really didn’t mess around with many beyond those I already had. Some blowjobs and such, but sex wise was mostly just the 2 guys, sometimes the other friends. Steve still just used me, but he wasn’t mean anymore. I don’t know what had been said, but while he barely talked to me, he didn’t repeat our first performance.

My school grades were dropping hard though. I was mostly C’s and D’s. It wasn’t that the work was to hard, I simply didn’t care anymore. Between my dad and after school fun with boys, there was no time. When I got home, it was time for dinner, then laundry, and cleaning the house, and time spent with dad. So I did the bare minimum to pass, and nothing more. It was a waste of my time, I felt, to do more. I was already doing what I wanted. I already felt fulfilled.

At home, with dad, we were in a routine of sorts. The vast majority of days were what I would classify “good days”. Days in which I felt both like his little girl and his wife. Days in which I saw him look at me, see me, deep down inside, and smile. I could see that he loved me. I wasn’t special maybe, but he held me tight. He held me close. He still kissed me passionately. Most days.

Then there were the other days. Days that work didn’t go his way. Days that left him angry, hurting, or just needing someone to take out his frustrations on. Those days, he kissed me with need, with urgency. It was a passion of a sort. But he didn’t smile at me. Those days, I was a thing to dump a load in, to vent frustrations on. A panting, grunting, dripping stress ball for his cum to leak out of. The damnedest thing was, those bad days, even them, I got off. I’d walk in, and his hand would be against my throat in seconds and my back against the wall as he tore down my panties and I’d already be soaking. I knew, fundamentally, that I shouldn’t be, but I would be. Sometimes it made him angry, sometimes it made him grin. Either way resulted me being fucked as hard as any of the whores in the videos we watched. Then, I’d clean up, staying in some state of undress, as I did homework and chores. He’d often fuck me multiple times on those days, so I learned to just be ready.

This went on until I was 13, my birthday passing with nothing remarkable happening. No party even. By now, my highest grade in school was a C (excepting gym), I’d drifted from any real female friends, and the guys I did hang with, I fucked as well. Things were on a steady course, until Steve invited me to a party. I was eager to go, and dad gave me his blessing. I was excited since it was going to be a high school party and while I pretty much looked the part, I wasn’t one yet. I dressed in a nice sun dress and heels, my prettiest lacy bra, and matching panties (a gift for my birthday from my father). I fixed my hair up, my poof I had taken to styling it in standing up high. I rushed out of my room to walk over when my dad looked at me and told me to stop.

“Give me a spin, sexy” he told me, and I smiled and did so. He grabbed my chin firmly and gave me a deep kiss, more than I expected, though I returned it, smiling at him. He reached under my skirt and felt my panties, grinning at me, strangely, then smacked my ass and told me to have fun. I told him I wouldn’t be back too late and he just looked at me and told me not to worry, and I didn’t. I mean, I didn’t have any plans, but, I expected with Steve involved at the very least I might be fucking around.

I got to the party without issue, and it was a pretty decent one for our small town. There must have been some thirty or forty kids there, and most were drinking, some were smoking some weed, everyone seemed to be having fun. Steve’s house was the last in the subdivision, so there wasn’t much chance of attracting the cops as long as things didn’t go too crazy. I went in, and was quickly handed a beer. I saw Steve and he waved me over. He put his arm around me and introduced me to some of his friends that I hadn’t met.

After giving me the tour, it wasn’t long before we were dancing, him, me, and some of his friends. I was flirty with all of them, appreciating the attention he was giving me for once. He was actually being funny and friendly! It wasn’t long before we were making out, and he asked me if I wanted to go to his room. I nodded, and quickly followed him up. As soon as we got in his room, I was on my knees, sucking on his cock as he unzipped while I pulled my dress over my head. He pulled my bra over my breasts and we were quickly on his bed. I moaned as he entered me, thrusting deep. I’d love to say it was a long, passionate fuck, but it barely lasted two minutes as he pumped deep in me. He told me to stay there and I nodded. I probably shouldn’t have.

As I expected, he came back with one of the friends he had introduced to me. I leaned up to say hi, expecting to at least talk some like I did with the guys I hung out with. Instead, he quickly kissed me, pushing me down. In seconds, his pants were around his ankles and his cock was in me. He squeezed my breasts hard, making me whimper as he pounded away at me. I didn’t even know his name as he thrust deep and in less than a minute had dumped his load in me. Behind him, I saw 3 guys watching. One after another, each dumped a load in me, just fucking me. No one talked to me. Oh, I heard take it slut, or fuck me cock bitch, but that was it. “I” wasn’t there. A set of holes were, that’s all that was in that room that night.

Between sucking, and fucking, I had 7 guys that night, most did repeats. Steve told me to just lay back, cause he knew I liked it. So I did. I let 5 guys cum in my mouth. One on my face. Sometime around midnight, Steve came in. He looked down on me, cum drying on my face, a puddle under my crotch, I hadn’t even bothered to move. He flipped me over and pulled at my hips. I felt his cock slide against the cum on my ass and press in. I wanted to cry, I didn’t even know anyone’s names hardly. Instead I moaned, whimpering hard as he shoved his cock in my ass hard and plowed away. I felt empty, used up, and I wanted his cock. When it burned in my ass I orgasmed. I gripped the pillow and cried into it, ashamed of myself. He pulled out and pulled me up, and I sucked his cock. I didn’t try to pull away, I just cleaned it.

Two more of his came in, ones from earlier. I didn’t even remember their names. I downed a beer and kissed them desperately, before they pushed me down and both took my ass also, for the novelty of it. The last one put all his weight on me and just pounded away. After he came, I just laid, cum leaking out of me. I was numb. After no one came in for some twenty minutes of me just lying on my stomach, I got up, walking slowly, painfully to the bathroom, cum trailing down my legs. I cleaned myself up and walked out. My body ached. I’d been fucked before, but nothing like that, not so many times in a night. My pussy was raw and inflamed and my ass hurt bad. I didn’t even notice the looks I got. Steve didn’t even say bye to me as I walked past him. No one did. No one offered me a ride.

I finally made it home about 20 minutes later, at close to 1 in the morning. I walked in, and as soon as I stepped fully inside, dad flicked the lights on. I was blinded for a second as he came up to me. I could smell him, he’d been drinking. He kissed me hard and then shoved me against the wall. He eyed me all over, tearing my dress off of me. When he noticed my panties were gone, he asked me where they were. I told him honestly that I didn’t know. I hadn’t even realized I wasn’t wearing them until then.

“How many?” was all he asked.

“Seven, I think,” I replied. I couldn’t even look him in the face. He smiled, a nasty smile and whispered in my ear.

“That’s my dirty slut,” and then he shoved me down. The next thing I knew I was on my knees as he gagfucked me, holding my head as he rammed down my throat. I threw up but that didn’t stop him. He kept pounding me, snot running down my nose and struggling to breathe. Finally he pulled out and dragged me to my bed. In my bedroom. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been in there at night, to fuck. He slammed into my ass and fucked it with abandon. Unlike the 3 guys from earlier, he didn’t explode in a minute. The pain grew so bad I just cried. He reached under me and fingered me, tugging my clit and I came again for him as I sobbed. Then he pulled out, and wiped his cock on my face, smearing cum and blood and worse on it. Then he kissed me softly and told me I would always be his. And I kissed him back. I asked to sleep with him. So I showered, leaving my “bed” a mess to deal with tomorrow. The hot water burned me, but I wanted to be clean enough to be in his bed. He was almost asleep when I got in, but he put his arm around me. I had been passed around like I was nothing, but he accepted me. He let me in his bed. And damn it all, as bad as I felt, his arms holding me felt better. I cried, but not for long. I knew after tonight, dad would always let me back in. I knew that his bed was home.

June 05, 2017, 11:58:10 PM
Reply #11

Offline vile8r

Great to see more of this story Sky! And you've made the wait worthwhile!

June 17, 2017, 06:34:26 PM
Reply #12

Offline KizzieTheLittle

Loving this story, amazing keep up the good work!