Moving In With Daddy

by melanieatplay and PatHarvey

©Copyright 2020 melanieatplay and PatHarvey

A dysfunctional family gets closer during the Covid pandemic. After Kenna submits to her father as a condition of his financial support, she learns about her late mother’s wild sex life, submits to her brother, and becomes her father’s enthusiastic slut in a series of increasingly intense experiences, including a glory hole visit and an interracial triple-penetration at a Jamaican swingers resort.

Chapter 1

March 16th, 2020

Kenna

I nervously tapped my foot into the carpet of the expansive convention hall of the Bellagio casino. I was sitting on an uncomfortable folding chair along with 300 of my co-workers. I tried to hold back a yawn, because I’d ended my shift at midnight and was told before I left that there would be an 8:00 am meeting the following morning. When management called all employees except those working on the casino floor for a mandatory meeting, there was no way the news would be good. It was rumored that Brad Jenkins, the head of casino operations, had an important announcement to make, and I was dreading whatever he was going to tell us.

I’d been working for the last five years as a cocktail server. It wasn’t the greatest job, but I made good tips and was able to support myself. I had a nice car and a small one-bedroom apartment on Tropicana. Even though I’d graduated from high school, going to college never interested me. That was the nice thing about growing up in Las Vegas; I didn’t need an advanced degree to work in the service industry. I was tall and pretty, and I could act flirty when I needed to in order to get good tips. I didn’t even mind the occasional roaming hands by men old enough to be my grandfather as long as they gave me a green chip in compensation.

“So what do you think this is about, Kenna?” my best friend and coworker, Darlene, asked me.

“I don’t know, but I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

Mr. Jenkins appeared from almost out of nowhere and walked up onto the makeshift stage. He tapped the microphone a couple of times, checking the sound and producing an irritating, screeching feedback that immediately got everyone's attention, and the room went silent in anticipation.

“First, I’d like to thank each of you for your attendance this morning; I know it was short notice.” He took a deep breath and collected his thoughts before dropping the bomb on us. “We received word from Governor Sisolak last night that effective Wednesday, March 18th, we will be required to cease all casino operations due to the Covid-19 pandemic.”

A large collective groan could be heard from the entire crowd and my stomach immediately began to churn.

He continued, “This not only affects us but all other casinos in Clark County as well as the entire state.”

Darlene turned and whispered into my ear, “Did you expect this?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” I replied.

I’d been watching the news religiously, something I rarely did, and there had been rumors swirling around for a week that the governor would put the state on lockdown. My worst fears were realized.

“For the next two days, if you're on the schedule, we expect you to work your shifts, but we will close the doors at midnight Wednesday morning.”

There were murmurs and whispers throughout the entire convention room, and he gave the crowd several seconds to settle back down so he could continue talking.

“Our human resources department will be contacting you via our email system to give you updates and information concerning the procedures for filing for unemployment. I wish I had more information to give you, but at this time that’s all I know. I want to thank each of you for your dedication and service to MGM Resorts International; thank you.”

I looked over and saw tears welling up in Darlene’s eyes. “What does this mean, Kenna?” she asked.

“It means that for the foreseeable future we’re all pretty much fucked.”

My stomach was churning and I was fairly certain I’d have to make a trip to the bathroom, because suddenly I wasn’t sure the bagel I’d eaten on the way here was going to stay in my stomach. Because of my current schedule, my two days off were Monday and Tuesday, which effectively meant I was now unemployed. I took a moment to take stock of my situation.

Basically, I was broke. I had no savings to speak of, and my reckless purchases of clothes and shoes were now coming back to haunt me with a vengeance. I’d been looking into enrolling in the 401(k) program, but I’d stupidly procrastinated and put it off. I’d just paid my rent, but without a paycheck and tips I had no way to pay for next month. If I was lucky, I’d be able to pay my car loan and make minimum payments on my maxed-out credit cards once I was drawing unemployment. However, in two weeks I’d have no way to keep my landlord at bay and buy food.

“I have to go, Darlene, I’m going to be sick. I’ll call you later.”

I barely made it to the restroom before emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet. After I vomited, I sat on the commode as tears ran down my cheeks and I started to sob uncontrollably. I needed help, and the only man I could ask was someone I hadn't spoken to in over two years. As if things couldn't possibly get worse …

“Thank you for letting me take you to lunch, Daddy, I’ve missed you.”

I sat across from the only man that I could never find a way to get along with. He’d agreed to meet me for lunch at his favorite restaurant in Summerlin, the Vintner Grill. Because it was almost 70 degrees, I’d chosen to wear a little white sundress and my favorite pair of Charter Club Ginifur wedge sandals. I’d hoped that my pretty little sundress and sexy shoes would put him in a good mood; of course, I was wrong.

He shot me a skeptical look. “I heard about the lockdown on the news this morning and I expected to hear from you, just not this soon,” he said gruffly.

I sank down in my chair and tried to keep the tone in my voice light and upbeat. “I just missed you and I wanted to … you know … reconnect and see how you were doing.”

A little grin broke across his face. “I think that’s bullshit, but I appreciate the lie, it’s a nice touch.”

I ran the tip of my finger around the rim of my wineglass and our eyes uneasily met. “I lost my job this morning and I … I need help.”

He took a sip of his wine. “The last words you spoke to me, let’s see if I remember it correctly, were that I was an ‘arrogant prick who wasn’t even generous enough to buy his only daughter a decent Christmas present’.”

“I’d been drinking and I … I … I’m sorry.”

“I planned that Christmas party for months, all of my friends and business associates were there, and my own home was the place my spoiled-ass daughter chose to make a scene.” I looked down and my shoulders slumped. “Where the hell did I go wrong with you? Your brother chose to do something meaningful with his life and follow me into the legal field, and you … you …”

He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. His face was turning red and the veins in his neck were actually beginning to pop out. I’d known this wasn’t going to go well, but I’d had no idea it would be an absolute disaster. Instead of taking his shit, I decided to go on the offensive; it couldn’t hurt, right?

“You always loved Kyle more than me; he was always your favorite. You helped him get into your law firm, and after he passed the bar you looked out for him, guided him; you never did any of that for me.”

“I pulled strings with the board of regents to get you into UNLV despite your shitty grades, and how did you repay me? By refusing to register for classes. Instead you chose to work at that fucking casino, wearing that slutty outfit and bringing people drinks. I gave you every advantage that I gave Kyle; he just chose to use them and make something of himself, unlike you.”

“I … I …” Everything he’d said was true, and I had no reasonable retort. Even if I could find something meaningful to say, it would only make the situation worse. Further infuriating the man who I’d hoped would help me wasn’t a smart move, and I decided to remain silent.

“You were always a spoiled, entitled bitch, and somehow you think that’s my fault.” He took another sip of his wine and collected his thoughts. “Maybe it was my fault; I had no idea how to raise a girl. Kyle was driven, ambitious … he was like me. We have qualities that I know now you don’t possess.”

Confronting him head-on wasn’t working. It’s time to try another angle. Maybe I could extend an olive branch … maybe that would get me what I want. “You did the best you could after Mom died; I know you tried.”

His demeanor softened and the hard lines on his face seemed to dissolve somewhat. “Your mother would’ve been able to reach you, make you a proper young woman, help you to become something more than you are now.”

When I was 14, we lost my mother to breast cancer, and I’d always blamed him. He had money, power, and influential friends, and he couldn’t save her. I knew now those thoughts were unfair, but part of me still held them. Our family was never the same after her passing. Kyle worked through the immense grief by concentrating on his studies, becoming an honor student, and graduating with high marks in college and law school. I chose a different path; I rebelled against his authority, smoked pot, wore provocative clothing, engaged in promiscuous sex, and almost got kicked out of high school twice for my bad behavior. Only his influence with the principal and the school board saved me from being expelled.

My grand slight was the job I chose after graduation. After he cut me off financially and kicked me out of our home, I chose a job that I knew my father would hate just to spite him. His law firm did tax and business consulting for some of the big Strip casinos and he knew what occurred on the casino floor - the barely-there uniforms we were required to wear, the flirting, and the overt gawking by the players. He’d always hated my job and that had been exactly what I’d wanted.

Our conversation was briefly put on hold when the young, pretty server brought our meals. I’d chosen the Cobb salad and my father had decided on sea bass. I noticed my father’s eyes stealthily move up and down her tight body as she walked away.

“Why don’t you just cut to the chase and tell me what you want.”

I looked down sheepishly, then our eyes met. “I need money to help pay my bills.”

“You make good money; you mean to tell me you have nothing saved for this type of emergency … one you had to know was coming?”

I could feel a little tear come to my eye and I quickly wiped it away. “I don’t have any money and I don’t have any way to support myself … I need your help.”

“So what do you want, a blank check, a bailout? That would only be condoning all the bad choices you’ve made.”

“I just need a little money and I’ll pay you back with interest once I’m working again.”

He took a sip of his wine and looked thoughtfully into my eyes. It was almost as if I could see a plan developing as the wheels in his mind began to turn. “I’m not going to give you any money. However, I’m not going to be the reason my only daughter is homeless and out on the street. I’ll let you move back home with me.”

I was out of options, and I knew it. I’d thought about asking my brother for money, but I knew my father would pressure him to refuse me. Additionally, my relationship with Kyle was almost as toxic as the one with my father. I had a few friends I worked with, like Darlene, but they were more like acquaintances. Asking them to let me move in would be a huge imposition, especially since they were going to be just as financially strapped as I was. There were a couple of guys I was fucking since I’d ended my latest relationship, but they were more like booty calls and not even boyfriend material. Asking them to let me move in would be even more mortifying than going to my father for help. He was my only hope and I was at his mercy; I had to swallow the little bit of pride that I had left.

“Okay, thank you, Daddy,” I said timidly.

Chapter 2

A week later, I’d packed up my apartment and loaded the last of my belongings into my Land Rover Evoque. I’d been renting a furnished apartment, and I realized that, except for a few small kitchen items, I didn’t really have many things, aside from my expansive closet that was filled with my clothes and shoes.

After driving down Tropicana, I got on Interstate 515 and took it west through the spaghetti bowl to Summerlin. I’d always hated where I grew up, because it was full of snobs and assholes, people just like my father and brother. As I drove, I reflected on the precarious state of my life.

I’d definitely hit an all-time low. Moving back in with my father at the age of 23 wasn’t what any adult child wanted. But until the lockdown was over and I could return to work, living with my dad was the only option I had. We'd never gotten along well - he was a very authoritarian father and I reveled in playing the role of the rebellious daughter - but maybe it would be different now, since we were both adults.

I’d thought of asking my 26-year-old brother, Kyle, to let me move in with him, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before we were at each other’s throats. He’d received a degree in computer science and gotten a good-paying job while he worked his way through law school. Unlike me, he was able to work remotely from his apartment at my dad’s law firm, which kept him employed. I knew he had a spare bedroom, but he used it as a home office. He’d always been so judgmental of me, and I knew it would be pointless to ask him for help. Staying with my dad seemed like the lesser of two evils.

Several months before my mother passed, she was high on pain pills and revealed that my father was very sexually aggressive. She never revealed any details, but I had the sense that she’d done whatever he wanted; I never knew whether that was because she enjoyed it, or if she went along just to keep him happy. Regardless, I reasoned that at the age of 52 those days were probably pretty much behind him. I had no idea how wrong I was.

I must have inherited the high-sex-drive gene from my father, or maybe from both parents, but that was certainly part of my rebelliousness as a teenager. My latest boyfriend had shared my enthusiasm, although perhaps not to the same degree. I loved dressing up and looking good for him when we went out, and of course there was the skimpy little outfit I had to wear at work. I also did a little harmless flirting with the predominantly male players in the casino, which helped increase my tips. I was on my feet all day at work and I wore three-inch heels to emphasize my long, shapely legs. It was something the players appreciated and it definitely helped me get better tips than my coworkers. When I dressed for a night of clubbing, I always wore my four-inch stiletto heels to show off my legs, which gave me some additional height so my six-feet-two-inch ex and I would look good together.

I never revealed this to anyone, but sometimes I’d do a little more than flirting with the players. I’d never gone as far as having sex with them, but when I was in the mood, or I needed money, a couple of black hundred-dollar chips would get me into their room for a blow job.

As sometimes happens, the newness, the excitement, the passion, the edginess gradually faded away between me and my now-ex boyfriend. Familiarity didn’t breed contempt, but it did bring routine. After a while, it got increasingly difficult to work up any enthusiasm for going out with him and especially for having sex with him. In the end, that was really the death knell for our relationship.

The break-up was mutual, and, because we’d never lived together, it was easy for us to go our separate ways. The downside of ending our relationship was that I’d been masturbating much more frequently, not every day but several times a week, to help alleviate the cravings that my high sex drive brought on. However, touching myself didn’t come close to having sex and wasn’t nearly as satisfying. I needed a man, and being horny all the time just seemed to make me bitchier than usual.

I took the exit to Summerlin Parkway and made my way to the gated community of Queensridge. Almost instantly, my stomach began to nervously churn as I pulled up in front of my father’s home. I thought of getting everything out of my SUV, but decided against it. Hesitantly, I walked up to the front door and rang the bell. About a minute later, my father opened the door.

“Come on in,” he said gruffly.

I stepped into the foyer of his large house and discovered that not much had changed. The walls were painted a light brown and the white marble flooring was broken up by small specks of brown coloring. Of course, the house was spotlessly clean, just the way he’d always demanded. There was a large spiral staircase in front of us that led to the upper floor and was decoratively ornamented with a wrought-iron rail.

“Which room do you want me in?” I asked hesitantly.

“You’ll be in your old room upstairs, but we need to talk about a few things first; follow me.”

We made our way down the long central hall to the large kitchen. Again, nothing had changed decoratively. The light-brown oak cabinets perfectly complemented the stainless-steel appliances, and the big picture windows looked out over the expansive backyard that was set against the golf course. We had a large one-acre lot complete with a beautiful in-ground pool, hot tub, and a small waterfall.

“Have a seat,” he said while pointing toward the kitchen table.

I nervously sat down on one of the chairs. I immediately regretted my choice of clothing when my short little jean skirt rode up my thighs, and I quickly tried to pull some of the denim material down to cover up just a little. It was a warm day and I’d worn a little tank top with my Cocobelle gilded leather sandals. He poured a cup of coffee without offering me one and then sat in the chair beside me.

“There are going to be some rules you’re going to abide by for as long as you choose to live here.”

“Okay,” I said reluctantly.

“From what the experts say, this virus is very contagious, so I’ll be working from home and doing something that they’re calling social distancing.” I looked skeptically into his eyes as he continued, “You’re not going to be going out, I don’t want you bringing the virus back home and getting me sick.”

I gasped. “You want me to be a shut-in?”

“Yes.”

I had a very active social life. I loved going to the strip and partying and clubbing with my friends. However, I knew all the good clubs within the casinos were already shut down, so going out was really a moot point.

“Okay,” I said even more reluctantly.

“You’ve never been able to cook for shit, so I’ll be doing the cooking. You’re going to be serving the food and cleaning up the kitchen, and, just as your mother did, I expect you to dress up for dinner.”

My jaw dropped open. “What about Maria? She’s always cooked and done the cleaning.”

“Not anymore; there won’t be anyone in this house besides me and you, so you’ll be doing the cleaning as well.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Our house was just a little over 7,500 square feet, and, even though I knew a lot of that space went unused, I reasoned that cleaning the house would be taking up a lot of my time.

“No, I’m not kidding. I expect you to contribute, to pick up after yourself and help keep the house neat and running smoothly. You're not too old to be punished, and if you don’t keep up your side of the deal there will be consequences.”

A shiver went down my spine when he said the word punished. Who the fuck does he think he is, threatening to punish me? I quickly felt my blood begin to boil. I couldn’t believe he was actually threatening me with some sort of discipline if I didn’t abide by his rules. However, as I looked into his unwavering eyes, I knew he was serious; if I refused these conditions he set, I’d be out on the street. In the end, I had no choice but to relent.

“I understand,” I said grudgingly.

Over the next two weeks, my father and I settled into an easy routine. I got up early, usually at 6 a.m., and cooked him breakfast. It shocked me a little that he actually took the time to teach me how to scramble eggs and cook sausage or turkey bacon for him. It was a simple meal that we shared together, and it did help to bring us somewhat closer. I also wondered about this new, caring, almost nurturing, side of his personality that I was, for the first time, able to experience. It also made me consider that I might have been able to see this side of him earlier, during my teenage years, if I’d been more congenial towards him and less bitchy.

After breakfast, I spent the next couple of hours cleaning. I quickly learned that my father really only spent time in his office, bedroom, the living room and the kitchen, so of course I concentrated my efforts in those spaces. My father was a neat-freak that bordered on an obsessive-compulsive disorder, so I ensured the areas he spent the most time in were kept spotlessly clean. Sporadically, I gave the rest of the house a light cleaning, but it really wasn’t as much work as I’d originally thought it would be.

Once I finished my daily cleaning routine, it was workout time. I’d always been a gym rat, a trait that I probably got from him. More than once, growing up, I remember my father boasting that he still wore size-34 trousers, the same size he’d worn in high school. Because I couldn’t go to my gym, I used his workout room, which was basically one of the larger bedrooms that he’d converted into a fitness center. He had an elliptical machine, a rowing machine, an exercise bike where I could take online spin classes, and a myriad of free weights. I’d vowed not to put on any extra weight during this lockdown because I wanted to keep my 5’8" 130-pound frame lean and fit.

After my workout, I showered, and then it was time for lunch. My father would either cook a simple meal or we’d order takeout and he’d have it delivered to our door. Taking me by surprise, occasionally my father would even let me choose the type of food that we ate. I always loved eating pad Thai and, of course, pizza.

Once we finished lunch, my father returned to his office to work and I spent the afternoon lounging and napping poolside. I loved lying out and working on my tan, and taking a dip in the pool was a refreshing respite from the warm spring heat. I’d always loved wearing little bikinis, and occasionally I’d notice my father watching me from his office window that overlooked our backyard. I figured he only wanted to check up on me and make sure I was staying safe, but maybe it was something more.

When it got close to dinner-time, I showered again to get the sweat and chlorine off my body. Dinner was always a big thing for my father. Now that I was living with him, he insisted that I dress up, which at first was kind of a pain, but after a while it was something I didn’t really mind. I wasn’t able to dress in provocative club clothes and go out anymore, so putting on a little cocktail dress and my Prada heels made me feel sexy amidst the boring, tedious lockdown. Of course, it also reminded me how sexually deprived I was and how horny I felt.

I also enjoyed seeing my father in his sharp, dapper, designer suits. Even though the pace of my life had slowed considerably, I gradually realized that things weren’t really all that bad. Aside from the couple of hours of cleaning that I did in the morning, my life was now really pretty easy. I didn’t have to work and be on my feet all day, I got to work out and lounge by the pool, and I was able to begin the process of rebuilding my relationship with my father.

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Chapter 3

On the two-week anniversary of my moving in, my father told me to wear something exceptionally nice for dinner, so I chose a hunter-green Azlin plunge lace cocktail dress. The sexy little frock featured a deep V-cut, which put a lot of my large breasts on display, and the short little hem fell several inches above my knees. My father wore a custom designer Hemsworth charcoal-colored suit with a navy micro Foulard tie, and he looked so handsome.

To further celebrate the occasion, he prepared an extravagant gourmet dinner. We started with a garden salad with dried cranberries and crumbled bleu cheese, finished with a raspberry vinaigrette dressing and fresh artisan bread. For the main course, he prepared seared scallops with a brown-butter-and-lemon pan sauce. While we ate the delicious meal, my dad broached a somewhat uncomfortable subject.

“So, who were you seeing before the lockdown?”

“I had a boyfriend for a while, but we mutually decided to end our relationship about two months ago.”

His eyes widened. “What did he do for work?”

“He’s a personal trainer at the Paris, or he was before the lockdown.”

He shot me a skeptical look. My father always valued education, so I was fairly certain he didn’t think much of who I’d chosen to be in a relationship with. Before he could ask me another question about my love life, I directed the same question at him.

“Are you seeing anyone?” I asked after taking a bite of the delicious scallops.

“I am. Her name is Suzi, she’s a third-year nursing student at UNLV.”

I had to admit I was a bit taken back by this new information. I’d always pictured him with someone closer to his age, but I kept my expression calm and even. However, I also always knew he liked younger women, so maybe I shouldn’t have been so surprised. He’d definitely piqued my interest and I had to know more.

“What does she look like?”

“She’s Asian, very petite and very beautiful. She’s also highly intelligent; she’s at the top of her nursing class.”

Again, this new information shocked me. A young Asian coed? I’d always pictured him with an older white woman who was close to his age, maybe someone like my mother. “Where did you meet her?”

“We met at a children’s charity fundraising event for the Lyons Burn Unit at the University Medical Center.”

I took a sip of my wine. “She must like older guys, then.”

“I’ve been helping her with tuition and some of her other college expenses, so I think her attraction to me isn’t based solely on my age.”

I couldn’t hide the shocked look on my face. Fuck, he’s her Sugar Daddy? I didn’t want to admit this to myself, but I felt a little twinge of jealousy in the pit of my stomach. I also remembered how he’d pulled strings to get me into UNLV and offered to pay my tuition if I’d accepted his offer and been motivated to continue my education. I was beginning to realize that my life would be much different now if I’d only been less rebellious and more agreeable towards him.

“I’m glad she takes care of you and you’re happy.”

“More accurately, she took care of me. She’s helping treat Covid patients now and I can’t see her because of the quarantine.”

“It sounds like we’re in the same boat, then.”

“You didn’t find anyone else after the relationship with your ex ended?”

I could feel a little blush break over my face. I wasn’t sure how much I wanted to reveal to my father about my sex life. It was something we’d never discussed. When I’d lived at home before, my father having intimate knowledge of my sexual exploits was the last thing I’d wanted. However, since he was being so open and honest with me about his relationship with his girlfriend, or sugar-baby, whatever she was, I felt it was only right that I open up and reciprocate.

“There were two guys that I … you know … was kinda seeing, but it wasn’t serious with either of them.” I paused for a moment to collect my thoughts. “The term in today’s vernacular is fuck-buddy.”

He laughed, then his eyes widened. “You saw them together, or ...?”

“Oh, God, no, I’m not … you know … like that.”

“Don’t get offended, I enjoy learning about you and discovering what you’re like. For the most part, you’re a mystery to me.”

Again, I could feel my face blush a crimson hue. “I like learning about you too, and opening up to you and telling you things.”

We ate the rest of our meal in companionable silence. For the first time, I could feel sexual tension around my father and I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I knew part of it had to be the isolation of being locked down alone together. Both of us had needs, sexual needs, that neither of us could act on, and I knew it had to be just as difficult for him as it was for me. However, I assumed we’d make it through this whole Covid thing together. This lockdown thing couldn’t last forever, right?

{pb}

The next day, I’d completed my chores and taken an online spin class for my daily workout. After we ate lunch, I was kinda surprised to see him come out of the house into the backyard and join me at the pool. From time to time, I’d caught him watching me from his office window, but being in his actual presence, given my poolside attire, really made me feel self-conscious. I was wearing a tiny blue matte Lycra Wicked Weasel micro-bikini that hugged every curve of my body. It featured a scrunch thong bottom, and my D-cup breasts were dangerously close to spilling out of the very small top; my nipples and areolas were barely covered by the tiny triangles. Thankfully, I was lying on my stomach on one of our reclining chaise lounges when he stealthily approached me.

“I’m taking a break between meetings; mind if I join you?”

I shot him a little smile. “No, I don’t mind, I’d enjoy some company.”

He took a moment to survey the perfectly manicured grass that surrounded the pool and then looked up into the sky. “It’s a nice day out, a great day to get some sun,” he said while his eyes not-so-subtly roamed over my body. He must be as horny as I am to be looking at me like that, I thought to myself. He must really be missing Suzi.

“It’s beautiful,” I agreed.

“Kyle called earlier today, checking up on me, I think. He’s worried and making sure I’m staying safe and not out among the infected.”

I inwardly cringed. For the majority of my teenage years. my brother had been nothing but a condescending, uppity prick to me. He often threw my bad grades up in my face while bragging about every academic achievement he reached and honor he received. When he was with his friends, he always made it a point to bring attention to his ‘mentally defective little sister’ so his entire peer group could collectively ridicule me. I’d gotten even with him, though, by fucking most of them.

“How’s my favorite brother doing?” I said in a syrupy-sweet voice that I hoped hid at least some of my utter disdain for him.

“He’s doing okay, hunkering down and working from home like the rest of us.”

“I’m glad he’s staying safe; how’s his girlfriend doing?”

“Anna is doing well, she’s helping to treat the Covid patients at Sunrise Hospital.”

There’s a match made in hell. My brother’s girlfriend was in the process of completing her final year of medical school and would be starting her residency this fall. I’d only met her twice, and she was just as arrogant and highbrowed as he was. Secretly, I hoped both Kyle and Anna were just as sexually frustrated as I was, and I delighted in the fact that her treating patients was keeping them separated.

I watched as my father’s eyes traveled over my body again. “It looks like your shoulders are getting a little red; would you like me to put some lotion on them?”

“I’d like that,” I said shyly.

Boldly, he unclasped my bikini top, moved my long blonde hair to the side, grabbed the lotion, and began working it into my shoulders. I closed my eyes and felt his large strong hands working the slippery liquid into my skin. While I unsuccessfully tried to stifle a little moan, he poured more lotion onto my back and massaged it into me. His hands felt so good. It had been so long since anyone had touched me, and I could feel the heat and wetness begin to build between my legs. When I reopened my eyes, I saw he was staring at the sides of my breasts, which were crushed against the chaise lounge, and that only intensified my frustration.

“Would you like me to do your legs too?” he said huskily.

“Yes, Daddy,” I said simply.

He poured more lotion onto the back of my thighs and calves and began to slowly massage it into my skin.

“Those bicycle classes you’re taking are really paying off,” he said while rubbing the lotion into my long, toned legs.

“Thank you,” I said shyly.

Abruptly, he stood up. “I better get going and get back at it before I’m late to my next meeting.”

“Okay, Daddy, thank you for putting the lotion on me.”

“You’re welcome,” he said simply before turning and heading back into the house. I couldn’t help but notice the erection straining against the tight confines of his Dockers, and I knew I’d be cutting my swim session short this afternoon so I could go inside and take care of the sexual frustration he’d created within me before dinner.

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Chapter 4

I came downstairs late the next morning, around eleven o’clock, wearing a pair of tight booty shorts and a little white ‘wife-beater’ tank top. I’d just completed my morning workout and I thought a cup of coffee would help recharge the batteries before we had lunch. I’d put on a little black lace thong under my shorts and I wasn’t wearing a bra.

When I entered the kitchen, I saw my father sitting at the dinette table, and he watched as I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down across from him.

“Hello, Kenna,” he said conversationally.

“Hi, Daddy,” I replied after shooting him a little smile.

“When you finish your coffee, come into the den,” he told me. “I have something to discuss with you.”

“Sure,” I said. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”

Once I finished my coffee, I put my mug in the dishwasher and headed for the den. When I got there, he was sitting in the middle of the couch, and he gestured for me to come and stand in front of him. When I’d done so, he leaned forward and pointed to the floor next to his feet, and I cringed. I’d been up late the previous evening, after my father had gone to his room, watching porn on the big-screen TV and masturbating to relieve the pressure. But when he pointed down, I saw that I’d forgotten to take my house slippers with me.

“Did you forget the rule about picking up after yourself?” he asked gently.

I shook my head. “No, Daddy, I didn’t forget the rule, I just forgot to take them with me. It wasn’t intentional.” I hoped calling him Daddy would maybe get him to treat me like an errant little girl and forget about his silly rule just this once.

“I believe you,” he said in that still-gentle tone, “but there are consequences for forgetting.”

There was a smoldering sexual heat building between us. I felt it, and I was certain he felt it too. “Please, Daddy, I won’t forget again, I promise,” I pleaded.

“I’m sorry, Kenna, but if I don’t enforce the rules, you won‘t obey them. Turn sideways and pull down your shorts.”

I couldn’t hide my utter shock. “You’re actually going to spank me?”

“Yes, I am. I probably should have done this when you were younger; maybe you’d have turned out different. Now drop your shorts.”

My first instinct was to refuse him. I was a woman, not a little girl, and just the thought of being put over his knee like some type of wayward child was mortifying. However, I did break one of his rules, and we were getting along so well I didn’t want to make waves. Whatever. I’ll let him give me a couple of swats if it makes him feel better. It isn’t that big a deal and it won’t be that bad.

Thankfully, I’d put that thong under my little shorts, something I didn’t always do; baring my bald pussy to my father would have been way too much for me to handle. Hesitantly, I put my thumbs into the waistband on both sides and slowly pushed the shorts down my legs until they were puddled at my bare feet.

“Daddy, this is so embarrassing,” I complained.

“Tough,” he replied. “Now bend over my knee and let’s get this over with.”

I reluctantly did as he demanded, bending over to rest my crotch on his thigh and my head on the couch cushion next to him. My thong was pulled up into the crack of my ass, exposing my cheeks to his view in their entirety. I couldn’t help being a bit coquettish and I could feel the heat and wetness begin to build between my legs. I had to admit I loved his eyes on me and that look of unbridled lust etched on his face. If he was going to actually spank me, I thought I’d tease him a bit. If he’s going to mess with me, he’s going to get it right back.

“Do you like the view, Daddy?” I whispered.

His response was non-verbal, a sharp swat across my right cheek.

“Owww,” I squawked. “That hurt.”

“It’s supposed to hurt,” he retorted. “Maybe this will help you remember how to pick up after yourself as I instructed when you moved in.”

He swatted me again, on the left cheek this time, and then continued, alternating sides, for about a dozen strikes. I could feel my butt getting warm from the spanking and I knew it was turning a bright shade of pink. I’d enjoyed rough sex at times, and I’d been incredibly horny for weeks, but I was totally mortified to feel my pussy further moisten as he spanked me. It was also turning me on when I felt his growing erection press into my mound.

He gave me several more swats, then stopped. He didn’t say or do anything for several seconds, then asked, in a curiously quiet voice, “You’re wet, aren’t you, Kenna?”

I could feel my face break into a deep red ember. “I … I … I don’t know …” It was a lie and both of us knew it.

He reached down, put his hand, palm down, between my body and his leg, and rubbed his pants where I was lying on him. Then he pulled his hand up to his face and deeply inhaled. “You stained my trousers,” he said in a deep low, sensuous tone. “You enjoyed being spanked, didn’t you?”

“I ... I ...” I didn’t know what to say. I started to turn my head to look up at him, then couldn’t continue the motion. I put my cheek back down on the couch and whispered, “I … I guess I did.”

“You like men using you like this, don’t you?” I could feel his hand roaming over my freshly-spanked ass. “You like being used roughly, being taken hard … don’t you?”

My pussy was on fire, and it was as if my brain refused to form coherent thoughts. His sensual, erotic, probing questions were breaking me down mentally. I could feel tears beginning to form at the edges of my eyes. “Yes,” I said while quickly wiping the tears from my eyes.

“You’re a slut, aren’t you, Kenna?”

I wanted to touch myself, or touch him, anything that would quell this ache, this need deep inside me. Somehow, it was as if he could read my mind.

“You masturbate, don’t you?” he said, lust dripping from every syllable in his words.

“Yes.”

“You can’t keep your hands off your slutty body, can you?”

Tears were forming in my eyes again and I didn’t attempt to wipe them away. “Please, Daddy,” I whimpered, “please let me get up.”

He held me firmly against his muscular thighs. “Answer me, now.”

His words continued to break me down and I felt so weak and helpless. “Yes, sometimes more than once a day,” I admitted in a voice barely above a whisper.

“I’ve heard you moaning through your closed bedroom door a few times.”

“I … I … I can’t help it. I don’t have anyone, I’m alone … and I … I need relief … you won’t let me go out and see anyone and ...”

His hands continued to roam over my bottom, sensually squeezing my flesh. My nipples were erect and I knew my juices were flowing freely out of me. “Your slutty body needs to be touched like this, doesn’t it … you need to be used hard … don’t you?”

I didn’t know how to answer him. It was as if he was looking inside my soul. He knew what I needed, what I craved.

“Say it, Kenna … admit to me what you are.”

I was trapped. I felt so broken, so humiliated, so ashamed. No one had ever been like this with me; no one had ever made me admit what I was and what I liked. In that hedonistic moment, I just gave in to him. “I need to be fucked … I need to be used …” I said while the tears ran down my face.

“Get up and get on your knees.”

I slid off his thigh and onto my knees. He stood up, unbuttoned his trousers, unzipped his fly, and slid his pants down his legs. His boxers soon followed and his erect cock popped out inches from my face. It was long, thick, and veiny, and copious amounts of pre-cum were dripping from the tip. Obviously I wasn’t the only one who had needs that weren’t being met during this lockdown.

Jesus Christ, I swore mentally, he’s really big. I guessed him to be about eight inches, but really thick with a big mushroom head. I’d never had much of a gag reflex, and I learned to conquer that a long time ago, but I knew I’d have to open my mouth really wide to fit him in, and getting him down my throat would be an even bigger challenge. This is it, I thought to myself, the moment of truth. I’m so horny I could die, and I want to get what I need, so I’ll give him my best and hope he’ll reciprocate.

I put my hands on his thighs, leaned forward, and took him into my mouth. I looked up just in time to see his eyes roll into the back of his head as I worked him deeper into my mouth and throat. My body felt like it was on fire and I needed some relief. Slowly, I let one of my hands move down my father's thigh and let it rest between my legs.

“Oh, God,” he moaned as I let my saliva drip out of the corners of my mouth and onto his balls. He ran his hands through my long blonde hair, and I kept my mouth tight and wet around his member. While I continued to fellate him, I pulled my little thong to the side and slid two fingers into my pussy while rubbing my clit with my thumb.

After a minute or so, me giving him head changed to him fucking my mouth. His hips began to buck, which sent his cock deeper. But when his fat cock-head hit the gag point at the top of my throat, I pulled back to take a breath.

“What’s the matter, Kenna? Your mother never had a problem taking me in. She would hold me in her throat and lick my balls.”

I took him out of my mouth long enough to sputter, “But Daddy, you’re like … really thick … and I’ve never had one this …” my voice trailed off as I looked into his lustful eyes.

“Well, just force yourself. It took Suzi a couple of weeks of hard pushing, but she eventually managed it, and now she loves to deep-throat me. I watched your mom take a thick black ten-incher all the way down, so I’m sure you can do at least that well.”

Wait? What? Mom did other men?

I must have looked confused, because my dad continued, “There are a lot of things you don’t know about your mother; maybe I’ll tell you some of them sometime. But for now, get my cock down your throat and make me come.”

I took another breath, then brought his cock into my mouth and to the top of my throat. When I pushed it further, it went deeper, past my gag point and into my throat. I began using my throat to caress his cock, pulling back and pushing forward for four strokes, then letting my hands continue the work, stroking his shaft while I pulled back and sucked in oxygen. I buried his dick in my throat again and used both hands to caress his sack, rolling his balls gently between my fingers. My secretions were dripping down onto my inner thighs; I rubbed my clit harder and faster, and my body began to climb.

“It feels so fucking good,” he moaned and panted above me. His breathing began to change and I knew he had to be close. I considered letting his cock slip out of my mouth so he could shoot on my face, but I’d gone this far and I wanted the entire experience. In this white-hot passionate moment, tasting his semen wasn’t something I wanted, but something I needed.

He drove his cock into my mouth over and over and then began loudly grunting. Just as a powerful orgasm rocked my body, he stiffened up. I didn’t even taste the first spurt that went directly down my throat. He slid back a couple of inches and I felt the remaining heavy spurts collect on my tongue. I looked up into his eyes and we took a moment to catch our breaths. Once our breathing returned to normal, he looked down at me.

“Show it to me.”

I complied, opening my mouth and showing him his load.

“Now swallow it.” I took a little breath and swallowed my father’s semen.

His face broke into a little smile. “Good girl.”

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Chapter 5

Once my lust had temporarily been sated, a wretchedness washed over me and the reality of what we’d just done hit me like a brick to the head. Oh, God … I just gave my father head. This was a mistake … this was wrong … so wrong … or was it? I wasn’t sure.

My father looked into my unsure, searching eyes and then sat down on the couch. “Sit down, Kenna, let’s talk about what just happened.”

I slid my thong back over my pussy so I was somewhat covered and then sat down next to my father. There was a few seconds of silence until he spoke.

“Come on, Kenna, let’s be realistic about this. You're not a virgin and you're not a child. Suzi isn’t available for me, and you don’t have anyone else to fuck you. So I think the solution is pretty obvious, don’t you?”

“But it's not right, Daddy, it’s incest.”

“Okay, it’s incest. So what’s your objection to incest?”

“I don’t know, I just don’t think of you that way . . .” My thought trailed off, because I was tempted to lie and not admit the truth. I had thought about him … him and my mother from time to time when I was younger, when I heard those sounds coming from their bedroom. But I was not going to admit that.

“Maybe you should start thinking about us in that way, Kenna, because I’m all you’re likely to get as long as this pandemic stays with us.”

He had me there, that was for sure. Despite my momentary thoughts of wrongness, I was still so horny I couldn’t think straight. But before I could formulate any response, he continued his sensual verbal assault.

“You’re not the only one who’s horny, Kenna. As I told you, my girlfriend is self-isolating when she’s not at the hospital working, and I haven’t had sex for weeks, just like you. Masturbation and phone sex don’t do for me anymore, just like touching yourself isn’t working for you.” He looked directly in my eyes. “So what do you think we should do about our mutual problem?”

I wasn’t sure what to think or say, but I could feel myself warming up to his idea as the truthfulness of his words began to mentally break me down. We both needed sex and it was becoming increasingly difficult to find a way to refuse him. “I suppose we could … you know… maybe try this .... maybe just once … it would be something we’d be doing for each other … something that would help us get through this lockdown,” I said reluctantly.

“After what you said before, I think that’s really a cop-out. You told me you’re a slut, you’re horny, and you need to be fucked. You look so much like your mother when she was younger, when we first got married, and I’m hoping you’re just as good in bed as she was.”

His last statement really took me for a mental spin; I’d never really known about my parents’ sex life, and in that moment I had to know more. “Mom was … you know … good in bed?” I asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Your mother was the classic definition of a great wife,” he told me. “She was a lady in the living room, a gourmet in the kitchen, and a whore in the bedroom. She would do anything I wanted, and she enjoyed every bit of it. From what you said about your need to be taken hard and used, I’m guessing you’re like her in that way.”

That’s probably true, I thought, but he wasn’t done yet. “Suzi’s like that,” he said musingly. “She’s really quite submissive.” Then, abruptly, he asked, “Are you? You seemed to be, a few minutes ago.”

That was a tough question. I pondered how to respond. “In some ways, I have to say I am. I already told you I like it rough sometimes, and I’m usually willing to do whatever my lover wants.”

“Usually?” he pressed.

Another toughie. My head was swimming; this was all coming at me too fast to process and it took me a moment to formulate my response. “If I’m really into the guy, to be totally honest I’d have to say always.”

“Are you on the pill or otherwise safe in terms of avoiding pregnancy?”

“Yes, I’m on the pill,” I admitted.

“I figured so,” he said. “We’ll have to make sure you don’t run out of them.” Then he reached down and slipped his hand inside my thong. I was soaked, and when he slid his finger inside my pussy I let out a long deep moan. Being touched in such a provocative way by my father was almost more than I could take, and I felt my desire for him begin to build in earnest.

“You’re really close,” he commented. It was the understatement of the week. “Your slutty little body is on fire, isn’t it?”

I’m as ready as I’ve ever been, I thought to myself. I leaned over, pressed my lips against his, and opened my mouth. I grabbed his head and pressed it against mine and felt him respond, his tongue emerging and moving into my mouth. Then he straightened up and pressed against me. His hands surrounded me, one on my neck and the other grabbing my ass. I swung around, back onto his lap, and I ground my pussy against his big cock that had grown to full hardness.

“Daddy,” I whispered into his ear, “my nipples are aching to be touched, my pussy is dripping wet, and I need to be fucked. I want to spend the rest of the night with you, just like my mother did. I’m yours now, and the sooner we go to your room the sooner we can do this.”

He took my hand, pulled me to my feet, and led me to his bedroom. Then he commanded, “Get the rest of those clothes off and get on the bed.”

Wordlessly, I slipped my little tank top off and slid the thong down my thighs. After rearranging the pillows, I slid to the center of the bed. Slowly, I opened my legs, exposing the most intimate region of my body to my father, and looked up into his lust-filled eyes.

“You’re as beautiful as your mother, you’re like a younger version of her.” His sensuous words oozed sex and it was as if it was dripping off the walls. “I wonder if you taste like her.”

If we were going to do this, I wanted the whole experience. “Come here and find out,” I said lustfully.

He swiftly moved between my legs and began licking my pussy lips. There was no subtlety at that moment, just a hunger. As his mouth connected with my outer lips, I let out a cross between a moan and a groan and reached for his head to guide it to where I wanted. But he was stronger than I was and he resisted my gentle overture, making me realize which of us was in charge.

He was definitely in control as he worked his tongue deep into my sopping-wet slit. He worked it in and around, sucking my lips and licking the walls of my vagina. His hands were busy as well. He started by cupping the cheeks of my ass, gripping them, molding them, squeezing them. After he'd seemingly covered every inch of them, one hand moved to my asshole and his finger began to slowly caress it.

“Yesss,” I hissed.

Hearing my moans, he took a moment to suck on that finger and then dip it into my pussy. When it returned to my rosebud, it was slick, and he used the moisture to work his finger into my tight hole. At the same time, he moved his other hand to the entrance to my pussy and placed two fingers inside, reaching for my G-spot as he moved his mouth to my clit. Instantly, my body began to climb.

“Oh, God … oh, God … don't stop!” I was quivering with pleasure, arching my back and thrusting my hips to grind my pussy into his mouth. Damn, he’s good, I thought as the sensations built. I know I’m needy, but I’ve never had a guy go down on me this good.

I saw my father’s mouth spread in a smile; he knew he was giving me intense pleasure. His finger was now probing deep in my asshole and he began to insert another; the fingers of his other hand were pressed up inside the top of my pussy, stroking my G-spot where I was so sensitive, and his tongue was dancing on my clit. I couldn’t figure out the motions of his tongue, and then I realized he was moving it in the shapes of the letters of the alphabet, around my clit, teasing it, and then sliding it directly over my bud, sending electrifying tingle-shocks through me.

When he got to the letter H, my muscles clenched and both my holes tightened. Then my orgasm exploded and I wailed in ecstasy. My pussy gushed a rush of liquid, and I was shrieking deliriously as his tongue and fingers continued their assault on my senses until finally I had to push his head off my pussy. It took me a full minute to catch my breath.

“Oh, Daddy. I never ... that was ... I mean ... did you do that for Mom? No wonder she was crazy about you. I’ve had a lot of guys go down on me, but that was one of the most intense orgasms I’ve ever had.”

He sat back on his heels, kneeling with his erect cock poking skywards, as he looked at me. My eyes were glazed, my nipples were hard and pointed to the ceiling, and my secretions were oozing out of my body.

“I used to spend hours between your mother’s legs. She learned how to get right to the edge of an orgasm and then pull back - and we had fun exploring together. After that, she started having longer orgasms. I’ve always missed pleasing her.” He paused for a moment and reflected. “Did I make you happy?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye and a knowing smile.

“I need you … I need to feel you inside of me.” I was long past the point of denying myself the pleasure that I knew he could give me.

He looked lustfully into my eyes, lifted my long legs, and placed my calves on his shoulders as he leaned forward. He moved the head of his cock to my opening and then used one hand to rub himself up and down the length of my lips. He slowly worked the head between my outer lips, then between the inner lips and into the entrance. I gasped and he paused.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” I moaned lustfully, “do anything you want to me … I’m yours.”

He began to apply a gentle pressure, easing himself into me as he stretched me, and he worked himself deeper and deeper as he opened and filled me. He pushed past the point of where my other lovers had been and it felt so incredibly good.

“Take a look,” he said, lifting himself off of me. I looked between my legs. He still had a couple of inches to go.

“I want it all … I want every bit of it, take me like you used to take Mom.”

“Let me know when you’re ready for me to go deeper.”

“Now … I want all of you … right now … I …. I … “

“Don't talk. Just close your eyes and get into the sensations. Try to relax. I can wait.” He took my legs off his shoulders and spread them wide to the sides, and that relieved a lot of the pressure I was feeling.

Then I was rewarded with a thrust of his hips and I felt places inside me I'd never known had feelings. His cock was like a burning flame working its way up inside me. I began to moan and thrash my head from side to side. Daddy pressed his hips forward and went deeper. He held himself there for a few moments, then continued to push forward until I felt his balls snug up against my ass and I knew he was fully inside me.

“I'm all the way in. You’ve taken it all. It took your mother a week before she could accommodate all of me. I don't know what that says about you, or her, but I thought you'd like to know.”

It felt so good and I felt so full. I couldn’t wait a moment longer. “I need you to fuck me hard and deep, use me, make me yours.”

He slowly withdrew until just the head was left in me, then in one stroke drove himself all the way back in. He began to repeat the motion, pulling back and then thrusting forward. My feet came up on his back and I silently urged him on. He picked up the pace, and the force of his thrusts seemed more violent. Soon he was pulling out and slamming back in like a jackhammer.

I was attempting to meet his thrusts with my own. My feet pulled him back in when he withdrew. I reached one hand between us and began to rub my clit, my motions keeping time with the pounding of his cock. He reached with one hand and took one of my breasts, pinching the nipple hard and then rhythmically squeezing my breast.

I felt the little tell-tale sign in the pit of my stomach as he violently pounded me out. This sensation was different from when he was going down on me. Amazingly, he kept his pace, watching my face, watching my expressions and hearing my cries of pleasure as I rode the wave. Just as one orgasm subsided, the next one hit me, over and over. My increasingly hoarse screams of pleasure could have awakened the dead as he moved in and out of me.

Suddenly, he grimaced, and his breathing changed, so I knew he was close. His body stiffened up and I felt his heavy spurts pulse inside me. The intensely taboo nature of the sex we were sharing drove me over the peak one last time and my body was rocked by another intense orgasm.

He collapsed on top of me and I his weight pushed me down into the mattress. Gradually, I felt his erection subside, and we looked at one another. Tears welled up for both of us, but at the same time we were grinning like little children. It was a truly tumultuous set of feelings for each of us, from the sheer physical rush of the sex to the deep feelings we were building for each other.

We kissed gently, passion spent, before he rolled over, slipping out of me, and I lay at his side facing him, our tired bodies sensually melting together.

“From now on, you’re sleeping here with me.”

“Okay, Daddy,” I said while looking into his tired eyes. I flipped over and scooted back until I felt my body press up against his. “Hold me, I want to be your little spoon.”

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me even tighter into him, and we fell into deep, restful sleep.

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Chapter 6

The next 24 hours seemed magical to me. During the day my father would touch my cheek, caress my hair, rub my shoulders, and when he ran his palm across my breasts my nipples hardened instantly. In the evening, he led me to his bed and we made love before snuggling into deep and peaceful slumber. Each time I thought my need for him had been sated he would arouse me again, and I responded eagerly, yearning for his touch. As perverse as it may seem, I felt like a bride on her honeymoon. In my 23 years I’d never been in love, never let a man love me, and the intense feelings he aroused inside me were overwhelming.

The following day, things were different. He resumed being assertive and controlling, demanding sex multiple times, when he wanted and how he wanted. I certainly wasn’t complaining; I thoroughly enjoyed playing the role of his wife in every way, and the more we bonded, the more my submissive nature took over my mind and my emotions. I wanted to please my father as I had never done before, and that made it easy for me to fall deeper and deeper under his dominant spell.

The day after that, he showed me how in control he was. We were out by the pool, and I was wearing one of my tiny bikinis. He sat on the edge of a chair, put a cushion on the concrete in front of him, and had me kneel between his legs. He took his cock out, grabbed my head on both sides over my ears, and rammed his cock between my lips and into my mouth. This forceful, bold move startled me, but I reveled in pleasing him however he wanted. I knew he loved using my mouth this way and I started to slowly lick around the bulbous head.

He obviously wasn’t interested in slow and sensual; he moved my head back and forth, effectively fucking my face, and then he shifted his hands. He moved one hand to grasp my long blonde hair, holding me at the back of my scalp, and with his other hand he ripped away my top to expose my breasts. He continued to use his hand to move my mouth up and down on his cock while he reached down inside the front of my thong bottom and fingered my clit.

I always got wet when I gave head, with my father even more than my previous lovers, and when he stroked my clit I moaned around his cock-head.

“Ooohhh, that’s nice,” he growled. “The vibrations from your sounds are a great sensation.” Then he pinched my nipples really hard, first one and then the other, and I moaned even louder. That set him off, and he flooded my mouth, forcing me to swallow quickly so I didn’t lose any of his cum. Then he went back to my clit and rubbed it roughly, and I came with his cock still in my mouth and the taste of his cum enhancing my pleasure.

He pulled his cock away from my face and sat back in his chair, looking at me with a mixture of satisfaction and sternness. I looked up at him and shivered; I somehow knew that the nature of our relationship was changing. Despite my brief reservation, I was so happy to be with him and for us to be a part of each other’s lives again. Because of this new closeness we’d been developing, I was willing to accept him how he was and do whatever he wanted to please him. I smiled shyly and outwardly tried to let him know I wasn’t upset at how he’d just treated me.

That evening, when we went to his bedroom, he had me get on the bed on my hands and knees. Then he went to his closet and returned holding a thin butt plug, no bigger around than his finger had been these last few nights, and a bottle of lube. But when I saw what he was carrying, I immediately got nervous.

“What are you going to do?” I asked hesitantly.

“I’m going to start preparing you,” he answered. “Have you ever had anal sex?”

“Yes, a few times, Daddy, but you can’t put your huge cock in there, it’ll hurt.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

True confession time again. More than anything, I want to be honest and truthful with him. “I liked it and it was pretty good. When I was in a submissive mood, and I rubbed my clit when he was … you know … it was pretty easy to get myself off.”

“Well, I’m going to get you ready to take me; we need to open you up a little at a time until you’re ready for me.”

“I don’t know ...” I was very intimidated by his size, but he verbally pressed forward.

“You want to please me, don’t you?”

Another moment of truth. I did, I really did, but I knew what he was asking of me wasn’t going to be easy. I answered in the only way I could. “Of course, Daddy, you know I want to please you. I want to be everything Mom was for you.” I quietly continued, “Did she like anal sex?”

“Your mother was just like you, Kenna, she was a natural slut. She loved anal sex, and not just from me. She loved having her ass taken, especially when she was being made air-tight.”

My eyes widened. “What does that mean, air-tight?”

“It means having a cock in all three openings. There she’d be, in nothing but thigh-hi stockings and five-inch heels, taking a cock in her pussy, another in her ass, and a third in her mouth.”

Oh, God … my mother did that? And liked it? “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said in utter shock. I wasn’t sure how to mentally process what he was revealing about her.

“I’m quite serious. Sometimes I was one of the three, other times I was either fucking another woman or just watching your mother perform. She was a real exhibitionist; she loved being watched and being the center of attention.”

Suddenly, a panic washed over me. I didn’t think I could do this and I wasn’t sure I could be what he wanted or even attempt to be as wanton as he said my mother was. But as I looked into his eyes, I could feel his power over me. Submissive feelings washed over me, and more than anything I wanted to please him and do whatever he wanted, regardless of how uncomfortable he made me feel. In the end, I trusted him and relented to his demands.

“Okay, Daddy … we can try it.”

I tried to relax, knowing he was going to push ahead no matter what. He opened the container and squirted a copious amount of lube on the plug, then dripped some of its contents on my asshole. I felt the cool liquid drip down onto the lips of my pussy. I flinched when he touched the tip of the plug to my asshole. Fortunately, because it was so small, there was only a mild pressure as he slid it up past my sphincter and into me.

“There, how’s that feel?” he asked quietly.

“It’s not that bad,” I shyly admitted. I’d never used this type of toy before, so it felt like I was breaking new ground with him. More than anything, I wanted to please him and make him happy. I was obeying him and letting him use me in the manner that he wanted, and that brought a deep sense of fulfillment and contentment.

“Good,” he said. “Now we’ll see how it feels for you to be fucked with a plug in your ass.”

He made love to me that night with a reckless abandon that I was quickly growing accustomed to. The plug in my ass made his cock feel so much bigger. It also made me feel more wanton and slutty, knowing that I was allowing him to use me how he wanted. Maybe this won’t be so bad, I thought wistfully.

He took the butt plug out after we had sex, and the next morning he put in a bigger one. He made me wear it for a couple of hours, and then that night he showed me another toy. This was a long, flexible, cock-shaped thing he called an anal probe; it was less than an inch in diameter with a slightly larger head-knob, but it was about eight inches long beyond its handle. He lubed it up and inserted it into my ass, saying, “I want you to know that you can take my entire length.”

He slid the probe in and out of me as he pounded my pussy. The sensation of taking two cocks, one real and one artificial, rubbing against each other through the thin membrane that separated my pussy and asshole, was amazing. He was opening up a new world to me that I never even knew existed, and I was starting to realize how good it would feel to have two cocks inside me at the same time. Then I stopped thinking, gave myself to him completely, and let myself just be in that intense moment. He sucked my nipples as I rubbed my clit with the two cocks inside me, which drove my body to an intense, powerful orgasm. With each passing experience we shared together, I felt myself becoming more and more his.

The next evening at dinner I broached a subject that I hoped my father would be okay talking about.

“Daddy, can I ask you something?” I said hesitantly.

“Of course, Kenna.”

“Would you tell me more about Mom?”

His face broke into a little grin. “What do you want to know?”

“What was she like … you know … sexually? Were you swingers?”

He took a sip of his wine and thought for a moment. “There were so many different facets of your mother’s sexuality.”

“It’s as if she’s a mystery to me,” I said while taking a bite of my New York strip steak. I listened intently as he continued.

“She had a voracious sexual appetite, one that I had a difficult time satisfying by myself. After Kyle was born, we had a long, open, frank discussion about her sexual needs.” He paused as if trying to find the right words. “We were deeply in love and our sex life was very satisfying for both of us, but she admitted to me that she needed variety, just like she’d had in college before we met.”

My eyes widened. My memories of my mother were very different from what he was describing. She was the perfect wife and mother who’d do anything for her family. She kept a perfect, spotless home, cooked gourmet meals, and doted on her husband and children. I could only describe her as a Susie-homemaker, a goody-two-shoes priss. However, there was obviously a side of my mother that I hadn’t known existed.

He continued. “During our discussion, she told me that she’d been close several times to having an affair and she felt incredibly guilty. So we mutually decided to open our marriage. I allowed her to see other men and she granted me that same latitude with women. The majority of the time we had sex with others together.”

It was so much to try to take in; I felt like my head was going to explode.

“Our biggest concern was others finding out about our very unusual marriage. I didn’t want my career to be jeopardized because of what we chose to do sexually. So we were very selective and discreet.” He paused and took another sip of his wine. “We had a small group of friends who we met, and we also took vacations to Jamaica at a resort called Hedonism so we could discreetly have sex with others.”

I knew it would take days, if not weeks, to mentally process all of this new information. But he’d said a couple of things that I was curious about. “Is that where you watched her take that big black cock and take on three men at once?” I was both astounded and fascinated by those thoughts.

“Yes, it was.”

“What else did she do, what else did the two of you do?”

“As far as what she liked sexually, I told you most of it the other day.”

“If there’s more, I want to hear it, I need to hear everything,” I pleaded.

“She was very similar to you, Kenna. She loved rough sex, she loved to submit and be taken roughly, and she liked certain aspects of the BDSM lifestyle, which we explored together.”

I wasn’t even sure what BDSM was, and the questioning look in my eyes gave me away.

“There were times when she liked to be restrained and spanked. I guess a more accurate way to describe it is sensually beaten.”

“Oh, God, you hit her?”

He cut his eyes at me. “Yes, Kenna, but I never abused your mother; I gave her what she needed to be happy.” He paused again. It felt like I was in a class receiving a lecture. “I know you know nothing of that lifestyle, but it’s called ‘safe, sane, and consensual’; she had safewords and she could stop me at once if anything I did became too intense.”

A full minute of silence elapsed while I attempted to digest everything he’d told me.

“The most important thing for you to remember is that we were deeply in love and fully committed to each other.” His voice cracked and a little tear came to his eyes. “Your mother was perfect to me, and I loved her with a passion that I doubt I’ll ever feel for anyone else. She dearly loved both you and your brother, and I can only pray that nothing I’ve revealed will change your opinion of her.”

There were tears in both of our eyes now and I reached out and squeezed my father’s hand tight. He wasn’t the monster that I always envisioned during my teenage years. I realized that, while my brother and I had suffered a profound loss at her passing, so had he. He’d lost the love of his life.

“I need to apologize to you,” I said in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Apologize for what?”

“I blamed you when she died. It was wrong and unfair and ...” I used my free hand to wipe away the tears that were flowing down my face and he squeezed my other hand gently.

“I would have gladly taken her place on that hospital bed. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. She gave me the best 22 years I’ll ever know and I’ve never regretted a day I spent with her, even when things got really bad at the end of her life.”

I stood up and then sat in my father's lap. We held each other tight and I cried for several minutes in his arms.

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Chapter 7

I came in from the pool the next afternoon and found my father lounging in what was now our bedroom. I was wearing a sheer white lace wrap over one of my little bikinis. There was a small table in the corner of the room and my father was sitting in one of the chairs by it, and I sat beside him. I’d been thinking about something all morning and I needed to talk to him about it.

“Daddy, please tell me about Suzi,” I requested timidly.

He looked at me thoughtfully. “What do you want to know about her?”

I averted my eyes; I couldn’t look at him. “I love the way our relationship is developing,” I told him, “and I want to be everything Mom was for you. So I want to know how you feel about that and how Suzi will fit into the equation.”

He thought for a few seconds. “Suzi and I have an interesting arrangement. You already know I’ve been helping her financially, and she appreciates that very much. She’s Japanese and comes from a culture in which women are very submissive to their men, and she’s very much that way with me.”

“Do you mean sexually?”

“Yes, of course sexually, and in every other way. I buy her clothes that I want to see her in and she wears them for me to please me when I see her.” He paused and thought for a moment. “She enjoys whatever I want to do with her with complete acceptance.”

I felt a twinge of jealousy deep in the pit of my stomach. He cares for this girl. Did he .... I was very reluctant to ask this, but I had to know.

“Do you love her?”

“No,” he replied immediately. “I don’t love her; as I told you, I doubt I’ll ever love anyone in the way I loved your mother. I have affection for her, and we have fun together, but that’s all.” His voice trailed off and I could tell he was in deep reflection. “As far as our relationship is concerned, I’m really glad we’ve been able to move on and put our past behind us, and begin anew with each other. These past few weeks have been an amazing time for me. Kenna, you’ve made our house feel like a home again, and I want that to continue.”

“That’s very reassuring,” I said honestly. “I also want what we have to continue.”

“Once things get back to normal, will you be upset if I continue to see Suzi?”

That was a very tough question, and at first I wasn’t sure how to respond. I thought of my mother and his relationship with her. They’d had a unique marriage, and in the end I wanted to do what I thought my mother would have done. More than anything, I wanted him to be happy. Still, I had to come to terms with these jealous feelings and give voice to them.

“I need to know that I come first. I want you to be happy, but …” my face broke into a deep blush, but he needed to know, I had to say this and make sure he knew how I felt about him. “… I love you, and not in a way that a daughter loves a father, but in the way that a woman loves a man, and I … I hope that in time you’ll love me the way I love you, the way you loved Mom.”

He looked seriously into my eyes. “I’m already well along that path, Kenna. You remind me more and more of her. If I had to choose between you and Suzi, I’d choose you without hesitation.”

That really warmed my heart and made me feel so good. Still, I needed more from him and I had to make sure he knew that. “Please, Daddy, make me like Mom for you. I want to be like she was for you in every way.”

His eyes widened. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I want to be everything she was, every way she was. You already know I’m like her sexually, how slutty I am, how horny I get, my submissive nature, so please make me your woman.”

“You’re really serious about this?” he asked incredulously.

I looked him squarely in the eyes. “Yes, I’m sure,” I insisted. “I need you to make me feel … make me know … that I’m yours.”

Instantly, his demeanor changed and he spoke in a very commanding tone. “You got turned on when I spanked you, so let’s find out how rough you like it. Get out of that suit and get on the bed with your ass in the air. I’m going to give you the chance to offer yourself to me in the way she did sometimes.”

I quickly shed my wrap and bikini and slid onto the edge of the foot of the bed on my hands and knees. I rested my head on the comforter and raised my bottom into the air. I heard him unbuckle the wide belt he was wearing on his jean shorts and slide it out through the loops. Then he hit me with it, square across my butt cheeks, and I squawked at the sudden pain.

“Owww,” I cried, and his response was to hit me again. It hurt, it really hurt, but I stayed in position; I was determined to give him everything my mother had.

When he hit me the third time, even harder, two things happened. A rush of endorphins drove the pleasure center in my brain into overdrive and my pussy flooded as my body prepared itself for a violent invasion. His fourth swat brought a tear to my eye; my ass felt like it was on fire from the intense blows. I looked back into the mirror behind me and saw four deep-red welts that had formed on the meaty section of my ass, and that shocked me a little. However, it only made me beg him for what I needed.

“Fuck me, Daddy,” I whimpered with tears streaking down my cheeks. “Please fuck me. Take me ... use me ... make me totally yours like she was.”

I heard his zipper open and his shorts slide to the floor, and he moved in behind me. He took his cock in his hand and ran the head up and down the lips of my pussy, lubricating it in my secretions. Then, without warning, he slammed his cock into my vagina with one long, powerful stroke. He reached around and grabbed my breasts, pulling my body back toward him every time he pounded himself into me. Because of the angle, the head of his cock was gliding perfectly over my clit on every stroke and I started coming almost immediately.

“Yes ... more ... harder,” I gasped, and he pounded into me harder and faster. Just as one orgasm subsided, another quickly overwhelmed me. I was panting hard and it was almost impossible to keep oxygen in my lungs. The feelings of helplessness and vulnerability were exhilarating as he worked my body harder. Then his breathing changed and he stiffened, so I knew he had to be close.

He leaned forward and took some of my long hair in his teeth. Just as I felt his powerful spurts shoot inside me, he snapped his head back, yanking my hair. Sharp pain shot through me, and that, combined with my very powerful ongoing orgasms, was overwhelming. I became dizzy and blacked out for several seconds. When I came back around, he was on top of me, pushing me down into the bed. Both of us were struggling for breath, and I closed my eyes again and attempted to recover from the intense adrenaline overload.

I’d never been with anyone like this; he was in control of me both in and out of the bedroom. Sexually, he was intense and demanding. He was a man, a real man, and I’d never been with anyone like him. Slowly, I was beginning to realize that he was everything that I’d never known I wanted.

That evening, we got into bed together and Daddy started touching me. We were having a lot of sex now and I was really enjoying it. He was very creative, often changing things up so something different happened to me each time we were together. After a few minutes of kissing and his hands roaming up and down my body, he crawled on top of me and slipped his cock into my pussy. He moved slowly inside me and I was content to let him set the pace. Like everything else with him, both in and out of the bedroom, he led and I followed. Taking me by surprise, he pulled out. “Roll over,” he said. “It’s time,”

My eyes widened. “Time for what?”

He gently slid his finger over my asshole and I tensed up. I’d known this moment was coming, I just hadn’t been sure when. Regardless, it was what he wanted so I wanted it too.

“Okay.”

I rolled over onto my stomach and he positioned himself behind me. His cock was slick and wet with my secretions, and I felt the tip rest against my asshole. He began to push, and the tip went in. I felt a sharp surge of pain, and suddenly the room became small and it felt as if the walls were closing in on me. I crawled away from him and I started crying; the panic attack I was experiencing felt overwhelming, and I didn’t know how to deal with it. We sat on the bed and I looked into his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy. I really want this, and I don’t want to disappoint you, but I’m afraid and I don’t know whether I can do it.”

“You know it will work,” he told me. “We’ve gotten you ready, your opening has been stretched with the plugs you’ve worn, so I’m not sure what the problem is.”

Tears were streaming down my face and I tried desperately to get my emotions under control. “I don’t know.” I told him.

“That’s a child’s answer, Kenna; tell me what you’re feeling,” he said patiently.

“I’m scared … scared of the pain.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“You said you wanted to please me, be mine.”

“You’re just really big,” I said between sniffles.

“So were those plugs, but your body accommodated them, just like it will accommodate me,” he said gently.

He was right. I needed to just be and give that control to him, but these feelings were still so foreign that I needed help submitting to him and relinquishing myself to his authority. Then I remembered some of what he told me about my mother.

“Maybe you should restrain me and then … you know … just do it, no matter how hard I object.”

There were a few seconds of silence. “Do you really mean that?”

“Yes, I do,” I said in a confident voice that I clearly didn’t feel inside. “We both want this, and, if I can't get away, it will happen.”

“But what if you beg me to stop?”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“That’s not good enough, do you know what safewords are?”

The blank look on my face answered his question.

“If this becomes too intense and you want me to slow down, you’ll say the word yellow. If you want me to stop completely, you’ll say the word red,” he said in a low, commanding tone. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy,” I said.

Despite my nervousness, I was quivering with anticipation. It was an interesting duality of emotions that I was barely able to wrap my mind around. I’d never been restrained, but it was something a couple of my friends had said they’d enjoyed. I was still very fearful, but the idea of being tied up, completely submissive and totally under my father’s control, aroused me beyond words.

“I have some old neckties I can use, let’s see how that might work.” He went to his closet, then came back and stood by the side of the bed. “Lie face down and spread your legs.”

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Chapter 8

I did as he ordered, and he carefully knotted ties together and adjusted them to make the right lengths of material. Then he tied my wrists to the corner bed supports. He was very gentle and his easy motions put me at ease. Once I was fully restrained to the bed, I pulled against the ties with my hands, but they held true. I could pull them an inch or so, but I wasn’t going anywhere.

He positioned my legs apart so I was spread-eagled and totally exposed, then got on the bed between my wide-open legs and began to play with my pussy. I was so aroused by then that my secretions were dripping out of me. When his wet fingers touched my asshole, I tensed up.

“Relax,” he said soothingly. I took a deep breath and attempted to relax my body. Gently, he started to push a finger in. His finger was slippery with my lubrication and it slid in easily.

His finger felt good, and after the different butt plugs it was quite comfortable. He kept pushing it in, deeper and deeper, wiggling it as it went in. When it was all the way inside me, he held it there without moving for a full minute, letting me adjust to the now-familiar sensation of being filled. Then he began to slide it in and out, finger-fucking my asshole.

When he slid his finger out of me, I let out a little gasp and pulled against the restraints, which held firm. Again, the feeling of being restrained and totally at his mercy was overwhelming and just seemed to add to this intense carnal experience. I felt him move into position behind me. I couldn't see him, but I could visualize his big, thick, stiff cock swaying back and forth. He slipped the head of his cock into my pussy, lubricating it; the anticipation was mind-boggling and my deep, heavy breaths could be heard gently echoing off the walls of the room. Then I felt the tip touch my asshole again.

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