A NONCON Dad/Daughter Erotica Story with pussy fisting, public fun, drugged (muscle relaxant) and breeding.

I’m gripping my phone so tight I half expect it to crack. It’s been almost an hour, and he still hasn’t showed up. I keep glancing at my screen, checking every notification, every vibration. And finally, a text pops up.

But it isn’t an apology or an explanation. Just two words that hit like ice water:

I’m not coming.

My chest tightens. I feel my cheeks heating up, a mix of embarrassment and anger bubbling up in me. Third time. This is the third fucking time a guy has left me stranded, waiting around like I don’t have anything better to do. I take a deep breath, trying to calm down, but it doesn’t help. I feel so stupid for even bothering.

Without another thought, I pull up my dad’s number and press call. He picks up on the first ring.

“Hey, sweetheart! How’s the date going?” His voice is so warm and hopeful, and it only makes the frustration come rushing back tenfold.

“Dad, I’m at La Café for that date I told you about, but… he stood me up.” I try to keep my voice steady, but the disappointment and frustration are all tangled in my words. “This is the third time, and I just-” My voice wobbles, and I swallow hard, trying to get a grip. “I don’t get it, Dad. What’s wrong with me?”

There’s a short silence on his end, like he’s processing it, figuring out what to say. “I’m just finishing up a job nearby,” he says gently. “About five minutes away. Want me to come over?”

“Yes, please.” The relief in my voice is unmistakable, and I don’t even care. “I just… I need to talk to someone who actually shows up when they say they will.”

“Hold tight, Daisy. I’ll be right there.”

I hang up, setting my phone down and folding my arms tightly, watching the sidewalk, hoping my dad shows up quickly. I know it sounds ridiculous, but right now, he’s the only person I actually trust. The only man who’s never let me down, who’s always been there, every single time.

Not five minutes later, the café door jingles, and I look up to see him walking in. He’s in his work clothes, his sleeves rolled up, with a warm smile that’s just… exactly what I need. And in his hands? Two ice cream cones.

I can’t help but laugh. “Ice cream?” I ask, reaching out as he hands me one of the cones.

“Thought you could use a little comfort food,” he says, his eyes crinkling in that familiar way as he settles in beside me. I take a bite, letting the cool sweetness melt on my tongue. It does help-a little.

“So, tell me what happened?” he asks, leaning back, just watching me, waiting. He doesn’t rush me, doesn’t jump in with advice right away. He’s just… there, letting me talk.

“Oh, Dad, I just-I don’t get it.” The words start spilling out, and I can’t hold them back. “This is the third time a guy has left me hanging, like… like I don’t matter at all. I mean, he didn’t even have the decency to make up an excuse. Just texted ‘I’m not coming,’ like I’m some random appointment he forgot about!”

He nods, still quiet, just letting me vent.

“And I can’t help but wonder… is it me? Am I that boring? Am I just… I don’t know, a ‘nice girl’ who’s easy to forget? Or am I… I don’t know, too available? I feel like an idiot, just sitting here waiting for a guy who clearly doesn’t care!”

I look up at him, half-expecting him to try to fix it, to tell me to calm down, but he doesn’t. He just looks at me with that same calm, steady gaze, like he’s soaking in every word.

“Daisy,” he says finally, his voice soft but firm. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. You’re kind, smart, funny, and anyone who can’t see that… they’re not worth your time.”

I try to let his words sink in, but the frustration still bubbles beneath the surface. “You have to say that. You’re my dad,” I mutter, even though I know he means it.