AUTHOR: T. A. BEAU

TITLE: Hunted by Dad Then Raped and Bred as Punishment

SUBTITLE: A Hardcore Dad/Daughter Incest Erotica Short Story with Dubcon, Hunting/Primal, and the use of an object to penetrate.

Copyright © 2024 T. A. BEAU

All rights reserved.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the writer and the publisher.

WORD COUNT: 5200 words

My phone keeps buzzing in my purse but nothing will drown out the rage in my body.

"So, you’ve been fucking Michelle?" I yell, my hand landing on my boyfriend's face. The car swerves, hitting the loose gravel along the side of the road. He hits the brakes hard, sending me forward into the dashboard. The seat catches at the last second, pulling me back.

"Are you trying to kill us, you asshole," I scream, unbuckling myself. I smack at him, feeling my hand make contact several times. He groans, holding his arm up to protect his face from my nails.

"Cherri, get the fuck out of my car. You're such a psycho bitch. Is it any surprise that I'm fucking someone else? I mean, really? You are flat-out crazy," Logan says, pushing at my arm. I hate when people call me crazy. It makes me want to show them crazy, show them just how psychotic I can be. I feel my blood boiling and my face flushing. My phone buzzes again, fueling my anger just as he reaches over me and pulls the door handle.

I tumble back and fall to the ground, the rocks and dirt hitting my ass, poking and digging into my soft flesh. Logan shifts into gear and peels out, the car door slamming as he drives away. I watch the red lights fade the further away he gets.

"Asshole," I scream, getting up from the ground. My purse and my phone are still in the car. “Asshole!” I scream again. I knew I shouldn’t have taken him back when he came crawling back to me after I caught him cheating with another one of my friends. It serves me right that I believed he had changed. But never again. I’ve learned my lesson.

For now, I need to get home. Mom and Dad have been calling me nonstop for about an hour. It's dusk, and the sky grows darker with each passing minute. I look around, hoping another car is coming, but the road is deserted. I tug at my shorts, wishing I had worn something more sensible than this skimpy outfit.

Logan and I had been at a club, drinking and dancing. On top of the very short shorts, I was wearing a thong, and a silver, sparkling halter top. My strappy high heels completed the outfit but did nothing for walking on the side of the road. I bend over, pick a rock out from between my toes, and start walking, crossing my arms over my chest.

I mumble to myself as I walk, flipping my blonde braids back from my face. Sweat tickles my back, like a wet trail moving down my body. If only Logan had let me grab my purse before kicking me out, I wouldn't be here right now. But no, the asshole drove off. The purse is probably sitting on the floorboard, totally ignored by my stupid ex-boyfriend. We haven't made it an official breakup yet, but I won't stand for a cheater and liar.

I hear a loud rumble of an engine as a car approaches. I turn around, recognizing the older black Mustang. Instantly, I panic. I see my dad, thin-lipped and wearing aviators, but I’m sure his eyes are dark behind them. I had promised to be home before 3 this afternoon for something important.

I wonder what he’ll do. But most importantly, how did he find me?

Dad slows down the car, hands wringing the steering, knuckles turning white.

“How did you find me, Dad?”

“Is that the question you should be asking?”

“Well…” I open the front door and settle inside, buckling up. “I hope you didn’t activate the tracking app. You promised you wouldn’t after last time.”

The last time I didn’t get home when I said I would, Dad tracked my phone and found me in a college frat house. He’d walked in just as these two football players had entered my pussy and ass and were pounding into me.

I’d seen my dad a minute before he walked inside to stop us and berate me for ignoring their calls. I’d watched him carefully watch us as the thick black dicks gaped me open. I really should have stopped but something about seeing my dad watch his little girl get pounded made me even hornier.

Logan’s drama aside, the thought of my father replacing one of the guys had crossed my mind more times than I could admit.

I look over at my dad who hasn’t pressed the gas yet. He is over 6 feet tall, with wide shoulders and a tapered waist. His hair is gray; not completely, but enough to know he had had dark hair before going gray.

“Cherri…” The way my dad says my name makes me panic even more. When his voice gets all deep and gravelly like that, I know I’m in a world of trouble. I have to find a way to calm him down.

“It’s just Logan… he drove off with my phone and purse. I swear I was going to call you back,” I say, pouting a little, pushing my cherry red lips out at him. “You found me walking home.”

Dad turns back to the road and presses the gas, his hands twisting on the black steering wheel, the knuckles turning white as he grips it tightly. I watch his breathing hitch; he stares at the road moving in front of us. I pull my shoes off, put my feet on the dashboard, and smile at him. I wiggle my toes a little, feeling the dirt between them.

"Thank you for coming to get me, though. My feet are killing me," I exaggerate, pouting. He looks at me, raising an eyebrow, his eyes staring at my dirty feet. The sweat has rolled down my legs, leaving trails through the dirt, white streaks through the brown.

I hate when my dad is angry at me. So I reach over, resting a hand on his thigh, and squeeze gently. He stills but keeps focus on the dark and empty road.

“Dad, please. I didn’t mean to. I swear I was going to…”

“Stop, Cherri.”

It’s only then that I notice that I’m not holding my dad’s thigh but his cock. I gasp, looking at it. I can barely wrap my hands halfway around it. I squeeze again as if my hand has a mind of its own.

My dad hisses and shifts in the seat.

“Let go…”

“But it’s so big…”

Bigger than any jock or nerd I’ve had. My pussy instantly moistens and saliva pools in my mouth.

“Cherri, fucking let go right now or else…” The tone of his voice isn’t exactly as if he is reprimanding me. It's more like a desperate plea to let go. It excites me but scares me at the same time, making my pussy clench.

“Or else…” God, why do I do this? It’s like I enjoy riling up men for the fun of it. And this time, my father is not an exception.

My father swerves off the road and stops the car. And when I go to remove my hand out of shock, he keeps it there.

“You don’t ever fucking listen, do you?” He removes his aviators with his other hand and finally looks me in the eyes. I swallow at the darkness in them. I struggle to remove my hand because of how hard he is holding me. “I think I’ve failed you, Cherri. I’ve failed you as a father.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, looking from his eyes down to his hardening cock and back up.

“You seem to think you can run around, doing what you want without repercussions.” His cock is like a stone, twitching. Within minutes, he is way past tenting his trousers.

“So you’ll punish me?”

“Get out of the car!” He finally lets go and gets out, snatching the keys from the ignition.

I see that we are still far away from civilization and there aren’t even any street lights. A touch of fear rises in my throat a little, wondering what to do. The night had fallen as we drove. I can see a dark building in the distance, the outlines of lights through several windows. I can't tell how far it is. I try to swallow, feeling the fear tickle the back of my head as I get out.

I walk around to the hood where Dad is pacing. The minute I settle on the too warm hood, he yanks me to his chest and gives me the most earth-shattering kiss that makes me weak and unable to compute anything. My brain goes fuzzy. This shouldn’t be happening. Kissing my father? And yet, I sink into it, nipping and sucking. But just as we get into it, he pulls back and slaps me.

The ringing in my ears brings me back to the reality of what we’ve just done.

“The fuck is wrong with you, Cherri? Kissing me like that… oh, you’ve really become a whore. No one is off limits to you?”

Then he pulls me again, this time grabbing my legs and making me straddle him as he rakes rough hands through my hair.

I kiss my dad like I need air, riding him, wanting the friction to get off. Something primal has taken over my senses. Every time shame or guilt comes to the surface, a spank or a bite thwarts it down. Christ… this is so wrong, but it feels too good to put into words.

Dad traps my bottom lip between his teeth, pulls, and bites down until I taste copper. That should short-circuit my brain back to reality, but it only drags me deeper into whatever this is.

I nearly fall off the car when he shoves me onto the hood and steps back. His dick strains his pants too obscenely to be normal. He must be in pain.

Dad looks at me, wiping his mouth. He then pushes me to remove my shorts and nearly makes me fall to the ground from how hard he is doing it. Then he points at me. “Sit there, just like that…” He rounds to the passenger side and I turn to look at my splayed legs. I’m so ready to be fucked like this.

Dad doesn’t give me time to really think about what’s going on. He returns with a small satin bag. I stare at the red bag illuminated only by the moon.

Dad pushes my knees apart even further. “Put those gymnastic skills to work, Cherri. Stretch those whore legs wide open like I know you can.”