We had this “game”, daddy and I.

This funny little game where we pretended I was a bad girl and he was the sweetest daddy, an innocent man left without options who just had to punish me for being the way I was - mouthy and careless and spoiled.

Where he had the right to come back into mine and mom’s lives after being semi AWOL for most of my existence.

Where in the first act, he renewed his marriage vows to my mother and promised to be here and do better this time.

Where being here meant no more jobs at places located several towns over, no more mediocre family life where his brother was more often the man of this house while he only visited every couple of months or so, coming full of money and empty of time and patience.

Where the do better part meant that daddy now had free use of the best pussy in this house: mine.

Unlike mom, I could see how unfulfilling life in a small town was for a man like my daddy. I knew, because I was feeling it too, the lack of excitement, the boring people with their boring routines, the boring dutiful sex he was having with mom, who was so against kinks, one might’ve thought daddy had picked her from a nunnery.

I could see all that and I could see that no matter how hard he was trying to be better, he was going to fail and bail on us again.

And so I did the unthinkable, the socially reprehensible, the morally corrupt thing.

The only thing I could do: I offered myself to him.

It happened only a few months ago, when I was still a shy virgin with no limits, who promised no refusals, for as long as he stayed with mom and didn’t abandon me again.

On the night of my 19th birthday, which had been only a few weeks ago, I had come into my parents’ bedroom, dressed in nothing but my white cotton panties. I then carefully roused daddy from sleep and I had led him into my own bed, where I offered him everything I had, which was my body and 10$ worth of condoms, in the hopes of keeping him here.

Grinning as if he’d just won the lottery, he had entered my body time and time again, to the point now there was barely a day passing by without him filling my pussy with his cum. Yeah, we’d skipped the whole condom thing altogether, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going anywhere now, because fucking his own daughter was the kind of dirty, filthy thing his soul hungered for.

And well, maybe mine had been too. Yeah, so what if I had all sorts of daddy issues? They were all his fault, so he had to stay and fix his mess. Right?

But old habits died hard, it seemed, since by act two, he had returned to a dangerous old habit: chasing other women. Fucking other women.

I had caught him just the other day with his assistant, balls deep in her ass, telling her to work harder if she wanted the raise she thought she was already entitled to.

Jealousy and arousal battled in my body at the sight of them, sweaty and joined in carnal bliss.

He had me, his very own eighteen year old cock tease, always ready and willing, so why the hell was he fucking this old cunt? I could not wrap my brain around the two of them, cheating on me and mom.

She looked like she was in her thirties or something, her tits saggy and her belly round, like she was pregnant with one too many burritos.

Ugh!

Old, fat hag, I hated her in that moment just about as much as I envied her.

But on the other hand, as much as seeing him cheating sickened me, it was also kind of hot. Not the cheating, but the way he was roughing her up a little, slapping her ass and silencing her pleas with firm thrusts into her defeated body. Seeing them like that was making me crave the same treatment.

The bitch was half-conscious, propped on their work desk, clearly fucked into delirium, her mascara and cheap red lipstick smeared all over her pale face. Her mumbling had long since stopped making sense. She was stuck repeating “please” over and over again, a glossy faraway look in her eyes.

He must have fucked her all day, on and off, until he got her in this state.

Daddy did have a helluva stamina reservoir. I should know, I used to let him use me the same way, fuck me until his balls were hanging empty between his legs, satisfied with how he’d made me submit to his authority.

Key word here being “used to”.

I left, swearing that things were going to be over between us starting that very moment. I was not my mom. I wasn’t going to tolerate sharing his cock.

I spent the following days in the third act of our little game, where I rebuked his head of the household role every chance I got. Nothing he ever did or said was right anymore, I was even objecting to meal choices, all for the sake of being a contrary little shit.

I particularly delighted myself by throwing innuendos about workplace cheating and about how men were naturally-programmed to fuck as many females as possible and spread their seed, fertilize wombs, ensure their legacy. I was being crass on purpose.

I wondered aloud if maybe I had siblings I didn’t know about.

Hell, I had even come close to telling mom about me and daddy’s little arrangement, but daddy had stopped me with a slam of his fist against the table.

“Enough, already, ” he’d yelled. I had gotten his attention, all right. He was furious with me. Good, cause my anger burned hot, still. “You’re done here, Sarah. No more dinner for you. Go to your room and fucking study or something!”

I got up, twisting my mouth into a sneer.

“Fucking something? Sure, I’ll call Derek over and he can do me, for a change, ” I said, then murmured, just quietly enough for daddy to hear. “His big fat cock is just deeeeeelicious!”

“You little, ” he threatened, but didn’t do or say anything more.

Daddy never did, not in front of my mom, anyway, who always took my side during arguments, thinking this was just a phase for me.

If only she knew.

I ran up the stairs and slammed the door behind me, the cherry on top of my dinner sundae. If that little display wasn’t going to fix things, then nothing short of actually letting that fuckboy inside my pussy was going to get daddy to make me his priority again.

See, Daddy hadn’t touched me once this whole week. I could only assume he was getting everything he needed from that office whore.

I retreated into the shared bathroom and turned on the hot water, wanting to burn his touch from my skin. I was done being happy with mere memories and the ghost of his body on mine.

I was so desperate for his cock, his love, his attention, I simply couldn’t stand the idea that some other bitch, who wasn’t even my mom, was having it all to herself. I discarded my clothes in a messy pile in the middle of the bathroom and let the stream color me an angry pink, the same shade of daddy’s hickeys on my neck from when he used to prove to me how much he loved me.

Daddy had thankfully followed me inside and thus act four of our little game had just commenced.

“Are you out of your mind or are you angling for a spanking, young lady?” He demanded, like he had any right to give me hell.

I watched him with what I hoped was a mischievous, haughty, air.

“Daddy, please, can’t you see that I’m busy? I need to get cleaned up for tonight. I wanna get fucked hard. I promised Derek he could have my ass too.”

Happy with the low blows I’d just dealt daddy, I then brought a hand between my legs and I started to masturbate, moaning loudly enough for the entire neighborhood to hear.

“Mm, Derek, I can’t wait for you to cum in my pussy, oh, fuck, yes, just like that!”

I whimpered and pretended to be aroused by thoughts of that jerk, rubbing my clit hard and harder. The truth was that young boys had stopped doing it for me the day I discovered daddy’s brand of masculinity. Real men, sure of themselves and their needs, who knew how to get a girl started, were that much better than late night backseat fumbling at the hands of a scrawny teenage boy whose hormones controlled his decisions.

I had just closed my eyes in pretend bliss, making it seem like I was really going to cum thinking of some boy, even sticking out my tongue and giving the shower stall glass panel a lascivious, long lick for extra lewdness, when I felt it.

I felt daddy’s firm hand suddenly collide against my ass, making my cheek bounce, rippling the tender skin, echoing right in my lower belly.

The impact instantly silenced my little act of rebellion and I swallowed around a newly-formed lump in my throat.

The hit was more sharp than it was hard, and frankly, it felt like it had only stopped the outward display, because inside? Inside, I was craving to feel it again, craving to behave even worse in the hopes of being forced into obedience in such a depraved, perverted way.

The hand print on my ass seemed to burn. Daddy had once again set me ablaze with just a touch, proving how incredibly right we were for each other.

Memories about his assistant resurfaced in my young mind, now re-framed. My brain was conjuring an image of me on that desk, where I was the one who was coming undone on daddy’s cock and moaning pleas under his unforgiving palm, both ass cheeks red and swollen.

But daddy did not raise his hand to strike me again. Instead, he walked on shaky legs back to the other side of the glass panel. He exhaled, catching himself on his right hand, and silently clung to the dry tiled wall, pressing his left to his creasing forehead.

He seemed unwilling to make peace with what he’d just done to me, possibly because it may have conjured similar memories in his mind. God only knew what sort of sadistic fetishes he had and had been trying not to inflict on me, because of course, fucking my virgin pussy was one thing, but spanking me? No, that was a step too far into depravity.

“Shit, Sarah, ” he murmured, and I suppressed an instinct to laugh.

Because now daddy looked uncertain, thrown off-balance, as if what he had just done had startled him, but differently than it had me. Could it have been that he hadn’t realized he had this darkness in him? How strange and silly. He was aware of his damnable need to fuck his own daughter, but not aware that he also had a little thing for inflicting pain. Despite our little game of crime and punishment.

I reached out for him, touching the back of his hand, the hand that had struck me. I was reluctant to presume the right to do more than that. I stood there and I gaped up at the animal in human skin who was looming over me. Who was this dominant beast? And more importantly, how could I get more of him?

“I’m sorry, ” he whispered, his voice thick with something that did not feel like remorse, but barely contained lust. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“No. Keep going.” I licked my lips. “Do whatever you want to do. Punish me, daddy. I’ve been a bad girl. I’ve been disrespectful.”

I can take it, daddy. I want to see where this goes. I think it might be fascinating. I think this was what’s been missing all along, with mom, and now me. But now that I know, I want to give it to you.

He looked at me from his side of the bathroom, eyes dark and hazy with the need to release his demons and I took it as a sign to make my way to him and cup his cock through his pants.

“Do you forgive me, daddy?” I breathed and I raised myself on my tiptoes, pressing my nose against his. He was feverish, same as me.

I captured his lower lip between my teeth and I tugged hard, before kissing him in apology. Daddy sighed into the kiss, only pulling back enough to whisper against the corner of my mouth.

“You know that I don’t like it when you’re acting like a slut, ” he began, but paused when I palmed him harder. I was running my hand up and down his shaft, teasing the beginning of a handjob. “Why do you have to be such a brat, Sarah? Why can’t you be good for your daddy?”

I began stroking his cock in earnest then, feeling it harden under the weight of my hand and his dirty urges.

“I know, I’m so sorry, daddy.”

“You know that won’t do, Sarah.”

I released him then, and curled both hands around the nape of daddy’s neck. I leaned into him, wetting his clothes, and that something warm and soft that had trickled into the raspy hum of my voice also knotted up in the base of my throat.

Not like straining.

Not like force.

Everything coming out of me now, from the pussy juices coating my inner thighs and up to the words I was about to utter, none of it was pretend. These were not lies forced out, coerced or manipulated.

“I love you, daddy, ” I murmured, infusing my declaration with all the honesty I was capable of.

“Daddy loves you too, but he has to punish you now.”

“Yes, I know, daddy. I deserve it.”

“Good. Then you’re going to get on your knees for me.”

Daddy’s hot breath and the scrape of his teeth against my ear caused a hitching moan to escape me.

“I’m going to punish you, now Sarah. And if you’re good, I might let you come afterward. Will you be good for daddy?”

I might let you come.

All at once I was once again aware of my empty pussy and how wet my downstairs was, despite the stream no longer reaching my skin. I rubbed my thighs together in a vain attempt to alleviate my ache. It wasn’t enough, so I rolled my hips forward into daddy, but of course he pushed me away. I didn’t get to dictate the terms of my punishment. I could only take what I would be given.

I trembled as I thought of everything this could mean - rough, calloused hands gone slick stroking my pussy, the fiery soft heaven of daddy’s cock inside my aching cunt hammering into me at a merciless pace, the loss of my anal virginity, any number of things, all dirty and sweet.

I would willingly take whatever daddy felt like giving me and I would even beg for it if that was what was required of me now.

I nodded my consent.

“No, say it.”

“I’ll be good, daddy, ” I whispered, and daddy’s hand closed around my throat.

Daddy’s hands were always so big and strong, and now was no different. He was firm in holding me, but not squeezing. The power was all potential - merely a little pressure and daddy might even kill me. I was a little bird in his grasp, fragile and small and vulnerable, and he was three times my size, all male power and strength. A second or two and a flex of his will and he could have me broken like a brittle sparrow wing.

It was hot to be so vulnerable and small.

This was what a real man felt like - powerful. It reminded me of my innate femininity, my submissive place in this world, helpless and at his utter mercy, yet at the same time I knew how safe I was in daddy’s hand.

He’d rather sever it than use it to bring me real harm.

“Sir, ” daddy murmured. His thumb swiped down the side of my neck, over the carotid artery. “I think I’d like you to call me Sir.”

Oh.

Hot waves of lust and danger crashed over me at once, from opposite directions, and for an instant, I was speechless and adrift in the meaning of all this, lost between the horror of what could be, were daddy not the man he was, and a pleasured moan, because daddy was exactly the kind of man I needed.

He was authority personified.

I mouthed it, knowing daddy could feel the slight movement of my jaw as I did it, the gentle hiss through and behind my teeth, the curve of my tongue as the sound moved backward toward my throat. As if it was entering my body, my being, my soul.

Sir.

A word used by soldiers and guards, servants and underlings. Even in mere politeness. A very conventional title. Nothing in particular to find remarkable there.

And yet that was clearly not how I was meant to be using it now.

This was not just being manhandled and pushed up against a bathroom stall glass wall and pinned against it, as I pretended to resist his command to kneel. Being a brat was just the foreplay. Trying to misbehave and resist and create more reasons for daddy to give it to me hard was where the real game laid.

In the end, it wasn’t even having a hard cock poking my thigh, evidence of where all this was going to lead to, that broke me, made me surrender faster than usual.

It was the hand at my throat, so decisive and so terribly gentle in its firmness.

It was command me and use me and I’ll do anything, you’re everything to me, daddy.

“Sir, ” I whispered, and smiled and almost giggled like a schoolgirl. This word, I loved it. “Yes. Sir.”

“Good girl, ” daddy murmured, then shoved me down to kneel at his feet.

I winced when my knees hit the tiles, almost losing my balance when the pain surged trough my bones. I glanced up and I could clearly tell that daddy was enjoying that sound of pain, that he had been hoping for it, had been aiming to produce it.

Daddy likes punishing me. He likes exerting his power over me. He likes it when I challenge him because he can then hurt me so good.

The knowledge was making my breath come out in quick little pants. I had it now, the key to his heart and cock. I had figured out what made daddy tick, what could make him come back to me, time and time again. He liked a bit of danger in his sex life, yes, but he also liked treading a dark, knife-sharp edge.

“Hands behind your back, Sarah.”

“Yes, Sir.”

A couple more moments of him just quietly enjoying the sight of my teen body, all his and ready to be used, displayed obediently at his feet and then finally, daddy’s fly was down.

He was drawing himself out slowly, letting the anticipation grow, all the while holding me by my hair and keeping me in place.

He towered over me.

Him and his delicious cock.

He was keeping me still like an ill-trained pet, like the rowdy brat that had been asking for it, the obnoxiously petulant teen that I was.

I was also about to get punished for all my brattitude. I looked up at him, pleadingly.

Daddy’s fingers curled around his shaft, the movement of a stroke, the gleam of welling precum at the head, drawing my gaze back to his cock. I didn’t have to be told to open my mouth and accept what I was being given.

I wanted it.

All of it.

Now!

I let out a soft sigh when daddy’s rock hard cock slid past my lips. I swept my tongue across it, and daddy’s groaning laugh was deep and sweet as honey, even if the hard edge wasn’t gone from his voice.

“There you go. Something better to fill that bratty mouth of yours with. This is now my fuck hole and you aren’t allowed to use it to sass me again, girl. Every time I get the feeling that something that’s not all sugar and nice passed through that brain of yours, I am going to fuck your pretty little head. I’ll fill your mouth with my cum, leave no room for the names of unimportant fuckboys.”

Daddy was still gripping himself by the base, pulling me into his groin as he thrust slow and relentless into my mouth. He was letting me adjust to his size and what was to come, because I was sure that it was going to surpass all limits, go so far down the path of pure filthy depravity, there would be no coming back. The sounds I was making were already obscene enough to foretell how thoroughly I was going to be dirtied.

“Now show daddy how much of a slut you are.”

The head of his cock brushed the back of my throat, and to my shock, he wasn’t pulling back. Daddy was not easing off this time, wasn’t stopping at just threatening me with oral abuse. He’d gripped my face and was pressing his fingers into my skin hard enough to bruise me. He was holding me there as he slid deeper and I twitched in a jolt of instinctive panic as my soft palate was blocked. I suddenly found I could no longer breathe at all. I felt it, then, the instinctive urge to struggle for air, but I just let it sweep over and through me. I was determined to stay there, my jaw and forehead in both of daddy’s ruthless hands, as he plunged into my throat. I was going to survive off small gulps of air. I could do it.

“Take it, ” daddy grunted. “Take all of it. Take it down your fucking throat. Be good for me.”

The urge to struggle wasn’t gone, but with every second it was becoming less immediate. Taking over it was a strange calm and a kind of determination. I said I would be his good girl. I said so and I wanted to be and I was going to be, although the depleted air was turning hot in my lungs and numerous tears were streaming down my aching cheeks. It was taking every ounce of focus that I had left to keep my gag reflex in check, but I was doing it. I was obeying daddy’s, no, Sir’s command.

The fire in my belly hadn’t diminished at all, my pussy was still wet and aching to be filled, but this wasn’t even about me cumming anymore.

Nor was it about any potential retribution daddy might mete out if I failed to suck him off the way he liked it.

I am going to be good because daddy may like brats, but he loves good girls.

I was trembling and whimpering when daddy finally pulled out of my mouth and released me, letting me slump forward against his thick thigh.

I needed to catch my breath.

I was wracked with wet coughing, but daddy’s fingers were soothing me, working through my long hair, gentle once more.

What I was feeling now was an intensely weird form of triumph. I had been given a task to perform, and I had apparently put in at least a satisfactory performance, given his change in attitude.

“Good girl, ” daddy purred, fanning the flames of my desire for him.

I had felt this before, or at least I had skimmed its surface. But now it was more. I was finally plunging into the depths of how it felt to lie in the thrall of this kind of manly power and surrender to it. How exquisite it could be to give up and exist for another’s pleasure, I thought. I could have this with daddy, forever.

“Shit, just look at you, ” daddy said. “Down there, taking it like a fucking whore. But you aren’t a whore, are you?” He asked, nudging my swollen lips with the head of his cock, lightly knocking it against them. “No, you’re not. I don’t have to pay for you. You’re all mine.”

Mine.

“Tell me.”

Another nudge, more insistent.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“I, uh...”

I knew I was not being quick enough for daddy’s liking, because the hand he had kept tangled in my hair pulled me brusquely upright, and the danger of his impatience was clear in his tone.

“Say. It.”

Another thing, very clear: daddy was ready to do a lot more to me in terms of punishment than merely deny me an orgasm.

Even eager, I would say.

Same as me.

“I’m yours, ” I croaked, barely recognizing my own voice. Ah, Jesus, what was I going to sound like tomorrow? I then caught myself just as I felt daddy’s hand tense in warning: “Sir.”

“Good.”

Again, the head of daddy’s cock was against my lips, tracing them as if painting them with precum.

“You want me in your mouth again?”

A shaky nod was all I could manage and I was desperately hoping that it would be enough, although a growing part of me knew that I was, in a way, tempting daddy to inflict more punishment by not submitting more.

And what was worse, was that it was not at all unintentional.

Daddy shook his head, his expression almost regretful.

“Afraid not. You didn’t earn it. Oh, you’re good, ” he added, starting to move his fist up and down his shaft in swift, easy strokes. “No mistake about that. But I think you can be better. Until then, I’ll just cum on your pretty face. You don’t get to taste me today.”

The urge to argue and plead and comment was surging in my body, yet I knew I shouldn’t be saying anything now. I should just be contenting myself with watching daddy jerk himself off inches away from the mouth he could be using.

I was staring at daddy’s cock like it was the only thing in the world I wanted and the only thing I had ever wanted, like it was so far beyond desire and into need, almost as intense as the need for air and water. Like it was all that was sustaining me. Like I could fall down and worship his cock as a fucking God if only daddy ordered me to do so.

And just like that, I returned to my very own old habits.

I started to mouth off.

“Fucking liar, you said that if I was a good girl you-”

“Watch your mouth, little girl.”

“What, I can’t hold you accountable? If you’re not going to put me to good use, then Derek is going to finish the job for you, ” I sneered.

“Oh, you little whore of a brat... Fine. Have it your way. I love coming down your slutty throat anyway, so this is actually my treat, ” daddy growled, sliding down my tongue again. I sucked on him hard, wrapping my lips around his shaft and bobbing up and down with such eagerness, I was outpacing his own brutal rhythm.

He was soon speeding up, slapping his heavy balls against my chin and tripping into the uneven movements that always signaled him closing in on the peak and getting ready to soar.

“Try saying that boy’s name now, my little cum slut, ” he grunted his release.

He gave me his last few drops of cum and then pushed me down onto the floor, under the hot shower stream, wet and needy, used and discarded.

I opened my mouth, to show daddy that I hadn’t yet swallowed his seed. I swirled it around in my mouth and savored it.

Not your treat, daddy. My treat. My precious reward for being a good girl.

I was almost feeling triumphant again, but Daddy had wanted to punish me and daddy always kept his word. So when I peered up at him again, he was tucking himself back in and doing up his fly, while giving me a glance that an outsider might have interpreted as only half-interested in my person, even dismissive.

But I knew better. He was preparing for another round of punishment.

“You know. You were right about one thing. Make sure you’re clean, Sarah. Tonight I’m fucking your ass. I can’t let you walking around with an unused hole. Who knows who might fall dick-first in there.”

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Author's Note:

If you have enjoyed this little tale of incest and you wish to support me as an author, consider grabbing it (or another), for $1, from my Smashwords catalog.

The paid version contains nothing extra, this isn't an ad for it, what you've read truly is all there is. Your purchase would just be making an indie author's day a little brighter, that's all.

In any case, thank you for reading and let me know what you thought of Sarah and her daddy?

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Disclaimers:

The characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.

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