the room, brightening it. I yawned, kicking off the
covers. Blearily, I glanced at the alarm clock. It was
noon. God damn it. I never wake up this late! I sat
upright on my bed, then doubled over in pain, as needles
of pain shot through my crotch. With sudden alarm, the
events of last night came rushing back to me. The image
of my father, stroking his raging cock, and getting up
off my bed and walking toward me.
Oh god. It couldn’t have happened. Please… this was all
a dream. Even, as I swept the covers to the floor to
reveal my lower region, the fierce burning in my crotch
told me something bad had happened. I gazed at my
panties. The crotch area was stained slightly yellowish,
and dotted with deep brown spots, and damp.
My eyes then focused on some small brown spots on the bed
sheet. Blood stains, I realized, as a coldness settled
over me. My eyes told me what my body already suspected,
but my mind had refused to believe. I was no longer a
virgin. I got out of bed, grabbing a change of clothing,
and walked unsteadily into to the bathroom. I could hear
the television and occasional sounds of laughter from my
father and Timmy downstairs.
My crotch was burning. I locked the bathroom door behind
me. Sitting on the toilet seat, I hesitantly drew down my
panties down to my ankles, and then completely off.
Holding it up toward me, I could see that the entire
crotch area of my panties swamped with a sticky wetness.
Small spots of dried blood stains dotted the crotch area.
The heady scent of sex assaulted me, and I almost gagged
as I quickly tossed the soiled panties to the floor, and
focused my attention to my burning crotch. Bending over
forwards, I could see my vaginal lips, glaring back with
an angry raw color. A mucous-like film coated whole of my
vagina, matting the downy hairs around my crotch. My eyes
focused on the raw glistening lips of my vagina. The
inner petals protruded slightly outwards, something that
had never happened before. I held my breath. I had to
make sure.
Gingerly, I wiggled my index and middle fingers carefully
into my vagina. I inhaled sharply, feeling a fiery pain
as my raw wet lips brushed against my fingers. I felt
around, seeking the place where my hymen should be. It
was gone, completely. I fought back tears. No use crying
over spilt milk, I tried to tell myself, but the tears
flowed anyway. Wiping the wetness from my eyes so I could
see, I delved further. My two fingers slid in deeper than
would have been possible in the past, lubricated with the
slimy wetness I could feel all around in my vagina.
Fighting the urge to gag, I wondered how much of his
stuff was in me. Within my vagina, I spread my two
fingers slightly, waiting. Time slowed to a crawl, but
eventually, some thick milky-colored fluid oozed out. I
stared at it. Parts of it were gathered in clots of white
spunk, other areas were almost clear. Thin streaks of
pink could be seen, which I knew to be my blood. I sat
there on the toilet, for almost an hour, watching as my
father’s sperm dripped slowly out of me.
For the next few days, I stayed in my room whenever I
could, coming out only make sandwiches for Timmy, or cook
dinner for all of us. Like all the times before, Dad
pretended the whole thing had never happened, bantering
as usual with Timmy and me. But I knew my Dad; he was
just a ticking time bomb, and I dreaded each day that
passed, wondering if this would be the day that he would
blow off.
I was fairly certain that he’d drugged me that night–
there was no other possible explanation for my sudden
loss of consciousness–and just to be safe, I’d dump out
all the open containers of juices and milk in the
refrigerator, in case he’d slipped something in it. He
probably wouldn’t have done that, since that would
endanger Timmy, but I didn’t want to leave anything to
chance.
A month past and Dad actually sobered up a bit. Twice
this month, he’d actually gone out for second interviews
with potential employers. He told all this to me and
Timmy during dinner, and I actually started to feel that
maybe Dad was turning around. During this time, to my
immense relief, my period arrived on schedule. It was the
middle of summer, and things were starting to look up.
I’d gotten a part-time job at the library, and was saving
up some money.
It was the first day of August, about a couple of weeks
away from Timmy’s sixth birthday. I’d been making some
clothes for him, since he would be starting school this
fall. I had designed the clothes by copying the designs I
saw from the Bloomingdale’s catalog. Already, I’d made
three long-sleeve shirts, a pair of shorts, and two
trousers, and was working on the last pair of trousers
with the remaining cloth I had left. Outside, I could
hear the laughter of Timmy, as he and our neighbor’s two
kids roamed about in the backyard.
There was a knocking on the door, and then it opened as
my Dad walked in. I tensed immediately. One look at his
sweaty face and his lethargic steps was enough to tell me
he’d been hitting the bottle again. Something must have
happened to get him like this. I glanced furtively at the
open door, wondering if I could make it past him if I
needed to.
He surveyed the room, his eyes finally resting on me,
stooped over the sewing machine in my room. “What’s that
for!” he gestured at the Timmy’s new clothes, which I’d
strewn across the bed. “Seems a little too small for you,
but hey, I won’t be complainin’ when I see you struttin’
around in em’,” he chuckled. I explained to him that they
were for Timmy, and I was planning to give it to him next
week for his birthday.
He just grunted, and to my growing bewilderment, started
moving about my room, examining my things. He gazed at
the poster James Dean poster I had on the wall, sneering
and muttering incoherent remarks. My eyes followed him
around the room. What was he doing in here? Why was he
drunk again? He’d been sober for an entire month.
Something must have happened. Maybe his job interview
fell through, I thought.
He stopped in front of my wall calendar, that I’d pin to
the wall, next to my dresser mirror. Through the
reflection, I could see his eyes as they swept across the
calendar page. Grunting, his finger tapped at some of the
words scribbled on the calendar.
“Timmy’s sixth birthday.” he read, his words slurred. His
finger traced the red circle I’d drawn around it. “What’s
this ‘X’ for,” he said, tapping his thick finger on a red
‘X’ that appeared in the box a couple of days before
Timmy’s birthday. I felt my face flushing red. “That’s
when I get my period,” I said in a bare whisper.
“Speak up, I can’t hear you.” he grunted, turning around
to face me.
“That’s when I get my period,” I said louder, a tinge of
anger escaping. Why couldn’t he ever just stay sober?
My father just grunted, turning back around and stared at
the “X”. Slowly his finger traced circles around and
around it. He turned around back to me, his face frozen
in a smirk. “So Janey, what do you use? Tampons or those
winged Tampa’s on the outside?”
I remained silent, and he asked again, louder.
“The other things” I said, glancing at the open door. He
was much closer to the door than me. I wouldn’t be able
to make it passed him, I thought sadly.
“You should give tampons a try. I hear they feel pretty
good when it’s up your pussy. Almost like a little cock,”
he laughed, taking another swig from his bottle. “Of
course, you might not have any use for ’em soon,” he
chuckled again, gazing meaningfully at me.
I looked up at him in confusion. What was he talking
about? I tried to reasoning with him. “Dad, you’re drunk!
Why don’t you go downstairs and take a nap? I’ll brew
some coffee-“.
My voice cracked, as he strode to the door, slamming it
shut with a solid thunk, leaving us both in the room. I
could see the beginnings of madness and rising lust in
his eyes, as he turned toward me.
“Oh god, this can’t be happening… not again.” I
whispered to myself. I was seated by the sewing machine,
and tried to get up, but he was suddenly there, right up
behind me. Immediately, I felt his big hands as they
cupped my full breasts through the thin material of my T-
shirt.
“I was just talking to Timmy today, and do you know what
he told me that he wants for his birthday?”. His voice
was slurred, and the smell of alcohol on his breath made
me gag. I sat rooted in the chair, paralyzed in fright as
his hands mauled my breasts, mashing them tightly against
one another.
“What did he want,” I finally whispered.
“He wants something only the two of us can give him.” His
hands moved lower, down my breasts, to my smooth belly.
He began patting me there softly.
“He wants a baby sister.”
I gasped loudly in alarm, springing up from the seat. I
stood up, but he kept his arms tight around me. “No!
Daddy, please stop it. We can’t do this! You must have
heard wrong,” I cried out tearfully.
He kicked the chair away from between us, and pulled me
back against him. I gasped, feeling the stiff lump of his
manhood as he pressed my buttocks against it.
“I ain’t lying. That’s exactly what the little tyke told
me,” he said his voice heavy with lust. “And I know you,
Janey…you couldn’t refuse Timmy anything could you.”
Maintaining his tight embrace, he half carried me with
him toward the bed. He spun me around with ease, and with
a quick shove, tossed me backward onto the bed. I lay
there stunned, on my back, as he quickly ripped off his
T-shirt. I looked toward the door, consider making a run
for it.
He looked at me, and said “Don’t even think of it. My
god, your body’s tempted me enough this past month. Mark
my words. You’re gonna get fucked good today. I haven’t
been holding off a whole month’s worth of cum just to
jack it off. So either we do it together, or I’ll do it
my way. Now, get out of them clothes.”
I laid there speechless. Everything had happened so fast.
This had to be a dream. But he stayed there, right in
front of me, waiting impatiently. I had no idea what ‘his
way’ was, but I knew it couldn’t be good. Reluctantly, I
removed my T-shirt, pulling it over my head. He just
stood there waiting.
I sat up, and pulled my thin cotton pants off. All I had
on was my panties now. Reaching for the T-shirt, I held
it over my breasts, trembling as I tried to cover myself
from him. But he just leaned forward, yanked it from my
grasp, and tossed it aside. “Now the panties!” he
growled.
“Daddy!” I sobbed. “Can’t we just-“.
“The panties, or you’ll regret it,” his eyes flashed
menacingly.
Sobbing softly, I peeled the panties slowly off. I eased
them off my hips, down to my ankles, and then removed
them completely.
“Good!” he nodded approvingly, his eyes glued to my
crotch. “Now lay back down on the bed, and spread your
thighs.”
I gulped in fear, but did as he asked. Flat on the
mattress, between my parted thighs, I awaited the
inevitable. I watched as he crouched slightly, removing
his shorts in one fluid motion. His massive cock sprang
out. My breath caught in my throat as I saw close up the
gigantic dimensions of my father’s big solid penis. THICK
was the only word to describe it.
It looked at least as thick as my wrist! My stomach
knotted in fear, as I gazed at the monstrosity, knotted
with thick purplish blue veins all around. In the
brightness of the room, I could see clearly the pulsating
veins surging towards the large head that was dripping
with the moistness of his escaping pre-cum. I quickly
closed my legs, even as he crawled up onto the edge of
the bed before me.
Kneeling before my locked thighs, he growled out.
“Spread em, you little slut. Don’t try to play coy with
me, I know how much you’ve been hungering for a piece of
daddy’s meat ever since I gave you your birthday
present.” His hands snaked out to firmly grasp my ankles.
I resisted, but he was too strong, and slowly he parted
my thighs.
I moaned in fear as he pulled me by my ankles, toward
him, until my thighs were to either side of his hips. My
buttocks were lifted off of the bed, and his large hands
were suddenly there, clenching into the softness of my
buttocks.
He kneed my thighs even further apart, and hunched
forward. His fingers wrapped firmly around his fat blood-
engorged trunk, as he guided the purple head of his thick
bloated cock-its slit dripping thickly with pre-cum-
slowly and deliberately toward the mouth of my pussy.
I choked in fear, cringing as I the searing hot contact
of my father’s large bulbous head cockhead wetly against
my nether lips. I could feel it, hot against me. He
rubbed it up and down across my lips, smearing it wetly
with his leaking pre-cum. Finally, he looked up at me,
his eyes clouded with lust.
“Time to give Timmy his birthday present,” he chuckled
wickedly.
He thrust forward, and his cock, hard and thick, moved
into me. I gasped out loud in shock, as I felt my tight,
pussy lips splitting open around his massive thickness.
Then the huge bulbous head of his cock was sliding
agonizingly into me, as my lips stretched to its limits
to contain his girth. There was a wet noise, and suddenly
my lips swallowed the entire corona of his head. I
inhaled sharply, my eyes wide, as I felt the thickness of
my father’s cockhead in me.
“Mmmmmh! Feel that Janey? Your little tight pussy’s
nibbling on Daddy’s cock,” he chuckled. “I bet little
your pussy’s hungry, isn’t she. Janey, baby, is your
little pussy hungry for more of Daddy’s meat? Well,
supper’s ready!”
“No…” I moaned, as his hands clenched the cheeks of my
buttocks cruelly. He set his teeth, and shoved forward
with a mighty lunge, thrusting with the strength of all
his manhood and virility. I felt every ridge, every bump
of his thickness, as he drilled into me in great waves of
warm moist flesh until suddenly his swollen penis head
pelvis smacked tight into the end of my tunnel.
I grunted in pain. The sheer enormity of his flesh was
more than I could bear. It felt as if a telephone pole
had been shoved into me–he was so thick. Gasping out, I
tried to twisting away from him. My whole groin was on
fire, but my movements were futile. With his incredible
length and thickness, my father pressed forward, impaled
me under him with his flesh.
“God, you’ve got one tight pussy!” my father gasped. He
pulled the cheeks of my ass hard back against him and
held his prick inside me. Flexing out to its fullest
extent, he wriggled his hips, grinding his swollen cock
head right up against my cervix.
“Ohhhhhh.. God,” I gasped out at the sensation. I could
feel him, way up, deep against the entrance to my room.
“That’s right, baby, feel Daddy’s big cock, honey. Feel
it deep, deep in your tender young belly. How’s it feel
to get fucked by a real man, baby? You just lay back now
and enjoy every inch of Daddy’s thick meat.”
With that, his hands gripped me tightly by my hips,
pulling me toward him. His thick hard blood-filled cock
sunk to its fullest depth inside my quivering belly. He
then drew his long, sword of a cock back. Pain flared
anew as the sides of his huge cock slid across my raw and
narrow passageway. I was dimly aware of the lewd, wet
squelching noises as his huge monstrous cockhead mashed
again and again into the very end of her pussy, his hips
were twisting in a cork-screw motion as he strove to
drill his truncheon deeper into my loins.
“Ohhh! Ohh! Ohhh,” I heard myself moaning. My belly felt
stuffed full with his maleness.
Minutes ticked by. I closed my eyes, shuddering my
father’s movements became steady, his hot thick flesh
sliding smoothly against my wet, stretched pubic lips as
he pumped his organ back and forth inside her body.
Opening my eyes, I looked at the dresser mirror.
The sight I saw in the reflection repulsed me. I could
see his broad back, as he bent over me, his hips rising
and falling as he rutted into me. I wasn’t able to see my
face; all I saw were my slim pale thighs, upright and to
each side of waist. “I was really being fucked,” I
thought, watching the reflection sadly as he pistoned his
thickness in and out of me.
After more minutes past, his breaths grew shorter and
shorter, along with his strokes. I could feel him growing
and growing deep… deep inside me. Oh god, this was it,
I thought suddenly, horrified. He’s going to cum in me!
The knowledge filled me with despair and horror, and I
felt my tears flow anew, cascaded in torrents down my
cheeks. The image of me, under him, as he sprayed my
delicate womb with his hot white sticky lust made me sick
with nausea. Oh God, I don’t want my father’s baby! This
thought ran crazily through my mind, and foolishly, I
clench my ass muscles in a senseless gesture of defense.
That did it! As my muscles clasped tightly around my
father’s hard-driving, lust swollen cock, he threw back
his head with a guttural bellow, shoving his virility
forward and into me in one last furious thrust, plunging
his cockhead right smack deep into the crack of my
cervix.
He held me tightly against him, as fat wads of his hot
sticky spunk jetted out, drenching inundating my insides
full with his thick clinging seed. On and on, his huge
cock jerked and twitched to its completion, white hot
spurts of sperm foaming out the stretched lips around the
base of his cock, drenching the matted hair of our fused
crotches.
“Noo! Oh, God, no, no, nooooooo!” I was sobbing
hysterically.
Finally, my father collapsed in exhaustion over me. I
laid there, sobbing softly, his weight on me. I could
still feel him deeply inside me, his cock twitching in
the aftereffects of coition. His weight was heavy. I
could feel the scalding hotness of his sperm, a fiery
pool deep in my belly.
I laid there under him for a few minutes. But his weight
was too much. I twisted under him, trying to squeeze out
from under his mass. Groaning, he finally flipped himself
off me, his face red and perspiring profusely from
exertion. A moist sucking noise resounded in the room as
his fat dripping cock slurped noisily out of me. My eyes
shot downward, watching as a string of creamy semen
trailed out, as my pussy lips closed behind him. Gasping
from his exertion, he flipped over onto his back besides
me, his chest rising rapidly up and down.
Lost in my own misery, I lay there, prone on my back, my
legs spread vulgarly in the position my father had taken
me, sobbing softly.
After a while, he propped himself up on his elbow. I felt
his gaze on me, eyeing me up and down with satisfaction.
His gaze lowered triumphantly to my raw red glistening
pussy, which gaped partially open. He’d done
that…stretch my tight near-virgin pussy open with his
wide cock. White frothy foam coated the lips and wet
matted hair of my well-fucked pussy.
“How’d it feel getting the ‘ole in and out’ from your
daddy?” he chuckled. “Guess you ain’t so high and mighty
now, huh? Heh!” he laughed, his hand reaching forward,
slipping between my damp thighs, to cup my tender mound-
even as I sobbed aloud in renewed despair. I felt his fat
fingers rudely probing into the folds of my swollen
pussy. Ignoring my sobs, he spanned out his fingers,
rudely spreading apart my tender lips. Fascinated, he
watched as thick gulps of his creamy sperm oozed out. He
gloated lecherously over the copious amount of spunk he
had pumped into his little girl.
“Damn! Daddy really creamed BIG TIME inside of you,
didn’t he,” he chuckled, amidst my piteous sobs. “Your
pretty little pussy must be just FULL of Daddy’s baby
making sperm. Christ, but I’d be damn if little Timmy
doesn’t get his birthday present after all!” he gloated.
He got up off the bed. His now-flaccid penis shone wetly
from our juices and his balls hung low, depleted.
Grabbing his shorts and underwear, he slipped them on in
front of me, even as his eyes roamed in satisfaction over
my aching body.
“C’mon, time to get a move on! It’s almost six. I told
Timmy we’d be going out to dinner tonight. He picked up
his shirt from the ground, and pulled it on. Walking over
to my dresser, he began opening the drawers and rummaging
around. He turned around, smiling. In his hands, he held
a panty liner. Walking back toward the bed, he picked up
my panties from the ground, and held them both out to me.
I looked at the liner and panties he held before me, then
at his grinning face. Slowly, I took my panties from his
outstretched hand, hoping he would leave now, but he just
stood there…waiting…and smiling. Resigned, I sat up,
wincing in pain as I felt a dull ache in my belly, from
his deep thrusts. Under his lecherous gaze, I donned my
panties.
He waited, expectantly, his hand outstretched, holding
the liner. Glaring back defiantly at him, I finally
grabbed the panty liner, slipping it under the crotch of
my panties. As I slipped it on, I could feel the sticky
wetness of his warm spunk on my fingers, and I had to
fight the urge to vomit at the thought of all his sperm
deep inside my womb.
He stayed there in the room, watching me get dressed. We
walked down the stairs together. Calling for Timmy, who
was still playing outside, we all piled into the car.
Throughout dinner, I nibbled at my food, my appetite
gone. All I could feel was the burning feeling between my
legs, and the escaping wetness.
I clenched my thighs tightly together, feeling more
wetness seeping down my thigh. My panties were drenched,
the liner doing little more than act as a dam against the
torrent of sperm sloshing around inside me. My dad kept
eyeing me smugly. He was well aware of how uncomfortable
I was; his whole load of sperm dripping slowly out of me,
and from his expression, he was reveling in it.
When we got back home, I ran upstairs to take a shower. I
quickly removed my shorts. My panties were totally
drenched, looking almost sheer. I peeled them off, along
with the lining. I looked down; my crotch was a mess. My
raw lips were red and puffy, glistening with his jism.
I sat down on the toilet, parting the lips of my vagina,
and watched as a river of his sperm oozed out. I
considered douching, but knew from health class that that
would only increase the chances of pregnancy. So I sat
there, like before, coaxing as much as I sperm out as I
could.
Later on that night, as I was tucking in Timmy for the
night, I mentioned to him that it was going to be his
birthday in two weeks, and whether there was anything
that he would like, and maybe he could pray to God for
it.
“Oh yes! I’ve been praying every night!” he said
excitedly. “I even told Dad about it, just so he could
mention it to God in case God didn’t hear me, because I’m
so little.”
“What did you pray for,” I whispered, my voice suddenly
hoarse.
“A baby sister!” he beamed. Johnny’s got a new sister,
and she’s the best thing! I was over there today, and
they even let me carry her a bit, and I didn’t even drop
her at all!”
I smiled at his enthusiasm, even as tears filled my eyes.
“Oh god, what ideas you must have given dad,” I thought.
But I could no more blame Timmy for it than I could blame
my mom for dying and leaving us with Dad.
“God works in mysterious ways, dear. Sometimes he might
not seem to be paying attention to you, but know that
he’s always looking out for you.” I paused. “Timmy, even
if God doesn’t give you a little sister for your
birthday, who’s to say you won’t get one later on, in the
future?”
“I know!” he beamed up at me. “That’s what Daddy says
too. He says that I might almost be seven before I get
mine, but I’m willing to wait!”
That wasn’t what I’d meant, but the idea that my father
had been talking to him so matter-of-factly about him
getting a baby sister brought a chill to my spine. “God,
he really intends to get me pregnant.”
I kissed Timmy goodnight, walking out troubled. I didn’t
know what I would do if I got pregnant. I didn’t have
enough money for an abortion, and I knew dad wouldn’t
allow me to get one.
He met me outside my bedroom door, as I prepared to go to
bed.
“So, did Timmy tell you about his birthday wish?” he said
mockingly. He chuckled aloud, as he saw as my face
redden, positive proof that I’d indeed spoken to Timmy
about that very topic.
He continued to stand there, blocking the doorway to my
room. I tried squeezing past him, but his hands came up,
gripping my arms tightly, and pulling me toward him in a
tight embrace.
“From tonight on ’til Timmy’s birthday, you’ll be sharing
my bed,” he whispered gruffly in my ear. I gazed up at
him in shock. He couldn’t be serious? But from his frozen
expression, I could see he was dead serious. He led me
firmly down the hall, past Timmy’s bedroom, into his
bedroom.
Locking the bedroom door behind him, he turned around,
facing me. “You know the drill. Clothes off…on the
bed…and spread em for daddy.
Afterwards, when he’d emptied himself into me, he made me
sleep with him in the ‘spoon’ position, his shrunken but
lengthy penis still deep inside me, as he drifted off to
sleep, his arms clutching me possessively. He woke up two
more times during the night, hard and thick within me,
thrusting hotly into me until he’d emptied his seed once
again.
For the next two weeks, he basically kept me there in his
bed, fucking me whenever it fancied him. He ordered in
takeout for lunch as well as dinner, and left Timmy to
play outside with the neighbor’s kids. He took delight in
fucking me in various positions-from behind with me on
all fours, or missionary, or me on my back, legs resting
on his shoulders while he sank into me deeply. My pussy
became a constant sticky mess, always slick and dripping
with his spunk. The bed sheets became indelibly stained
with cum stains, and the room reeked of raw sex.
After the fifth day, I knew with a hopeless certainty
that I was going to be pregnant for sure, if not already.
He’d been fucking me right through the middle of my
cycle, when I was the most fertile. It excited him so
much, to be grinding his fat cock deep against my cervix,
as he caressed my smooth taut belly. “Just think, Janey,”
in a few months, your slim sexy belly is gonna get all
big and round. Knocked up by your own daddy! Go! d!” he’d
groan, as he emptied yet another river of sperm into me.
He took particular delight in producing unwanted orgasms
from me, pointing them out, knowing how embarrassing and
humiliating it was for me. The first time I orgasmed was
when he’d had me sitting astride him, forcing me to slide
up and down on his thick cock. He’d already come three
times that day, and was taking forever to come again. I
couldn’t help it; I’d been riding up and down on his
thickness for over half an hour, and to my horror and
utmost shame, I started to feel pleasure in my loins.
Minutes passed, and the pleasure reached a pinnacle, and
I remember gasping and shaking, feeling my pussy muscles
convulsed around his thick spurting cock. He knew
immediately what had happened, and started roaring out
loud about how he could feel me cumming all over his
cock. I broke down in tears, my shame was complete.
Timothy’s birthday came and went. Dad finally let me
sleep back in my room, but it was already too late. My
period never showed up. I was hysterical, while he
strutted about the house, proud as a peacock. He and
Timothy talked excitedly about his baby sister, while I
locked myself up in the room, crying uncontrollably.
The month of September came and went, along with my plans
to finish my senior year in high school. I stayed home,
not able to bear the thought of the great shame that I
would feel when the other kids begin to notice when my
belly started swelling. Timmy did start kindergarten
though, and everyday, I walked him to school and picked
him up afterwards.
Since I was at home all the time now, with Timmy gone
most of the day, Dad’s sexual interest in me flared anew.
I didn’t even resist anymore. What was the point? He
couldn’t sully me any more than I was already. As the
weeks passed, I eventually lost my inhibitions.
After some time, I actually started fucking him back.
Trapped in the house all day and night, there was really
nothing else to do, so we basically wound up fucking a
lot. It got so, that just the sight of his thick member
was enough to get me wet. The weeks turned to months, and
my belly began to swell with the life my Dad had created
in me.
On a Saturday morning, in April, I gave birth to healthy
seven-pound girl. I named her Hope. Lying there, in the
hospital bed, cuddling the delicate bundle of warmth as
she nursed on my breasts, sanity and reason–properties
which had abandoned me these past months-returned
suddenly to me.
I saw for the first time, with clarity and rising
disgust, how I’d become nothing more than a mindless sex
slave for my father. I had to end this cycle, or else it
would just wind up repeating itself over and over. If I
continued down this road, I knew for sure I’d only wind
up getting pregnant again. All my dreams of escaping with
Timmy, and now Hope, would remain just that…dreams.
I was a picture of perfect coolness and composure when my
dad stepped into the room to look at his newest daughter.
When he reached out for her, I looked him straight in the
eyes, my eyes cold as ice.
“Dad, it’s over. I’m going away with Timmy and Hope, and
you’re not going to follow us. If you do, I’ll tell
everyone about us. I’ll tell them how you raped me, and
locked me up until you made sure I was pregnant. I’ll
tell them about Hope.”
He began to utter something back, but stopped mid-
sentence, as he saw the look in my face. His face paled,
as he realized from my dead-calm expression that I was
entirely serious. I continued. “If you don’t want to get
locked up for what you did to me, you’ll leave it drop
and consider yourself lucky. I’ll be back to the house in
a few days to pack up our stuff, then we’ll be gone.”
The room was silent. I spoke again, this time a whisper.
“Please leave. I’m tired.” I said closing my eyes, and
dismissing him once and for all from my life.
The End
Via: https://sexstories.com/story/1541/daughter_039_s_prison_-_part_3