“C’mon, Dad—upsy-daisy!” Anya gently pulled on her father’s arm, helping him to roll out of the car’s passenger seat and onto his feet. Her father Anton groaned as he moved, sounding pained with every breath as he slowly went vertical. His neck was in a temporary brace and a dark gray cast was bound about his left forearm, which he kept tucked tight to his chest.

It took the better part of a minute to get him upright, but that was miles better than the hospital bed he’d been occupying for the past several days. It’d been a miracle he ended up in a bed and not in the morgue after the car crash—just thinking those words felt surreal, like Anya was in a dream she couldn’t wake up from.

Once he was on his feet, Dad stood there, groaning and sweating. He was panting for breath. “I… I’m sorry, Anya… Sorry…”

“It’s okay, Dad.” She thought about hugging him but resisted—he was still in pain and had suffered several bruised ribs that were mostly healed, but still caused him some discomfort. Besides, her father wasn’t really the hugging type. Instead, she took him by the arm. “Now let’s get you inside.”

The sun was setting as they slowly walked into the single-story house where she’d lived with her parents all her life. After Anya left for university it felt like a dam had broken open, pouring out all of her mother’s anger and hostility: she and her mother fought constantly, every time Anya went home to visit. It was like that until Vanya unexpectedly left without a word of warning at the start of Anya’s senior year.

Anya’s relationship with her father was a lot more complicated. He was quiet, distant, stiff and unaffectionate all while Anya was growing up, and his wife’s abandonment only exacerbated that, putting a wedge between them. He was never the same after Vanya left, and always seemed tired, like the full weight of the world was on his shoulders. Then he fell asleep behind the wheel and ended up in the hospital. At twenty-four years old and in her last semester at University, Anya dropped all of her classes, put her life on hold, and went home. She’d already lost one parent—Anya couldn’t afford to lose both of them.

The house’s interior was dark. Anya left her dad standing by the door, fighting through his pain and discomfort as she turned on several lights to show the way to his bedroom. The wooden floors creaked under their slow footsteps as they walked together. “Easy, take it easy,” she murmured.

Dad nodded, saying nothing as they headed for his bedroom.

“Let’s lie you down in bed, you’ll feel better,” she said.

“Can’t,” he grunted.

They stopped at the door. “Why not?”

He grunted again, and the look on his face was of angry embarrassment. “Have to…pee. Sorry.”

Anya could tell he was embarrassed, but she was embarrassed too, for the both of them. “I’ll only do as little as you need me to. I’ll even close my eyes if I have to.”

“Mm.” He didn’t sound happy about it, but he nodded.

The master bathroom was off the accompanying bedroom. She helped him in, letting him lean on her for help. Her Dad was a tall man, a bit round about the belly but with a full head of graying hair and a face in need of a shave. Anya had his gray eyes to go with her mother’s brunette hair and short stature. She helped him unfasten his belt, working the loops with deft fingers. With his forearm in a cast, she has to unfasten the buttons of his pants for him, and began to pull at his boxers to loosen them before he stopped her.

Dad looked annoyed. “I can handle the rest,” he said.

“Ah… Right,” she said. “And starting tomorrow, we’ll put you in sweats so you don’t have to fight a belt.”

He grunted again. “I hate sweats.”

“I know.”

Anya left him to handle his business, shut the door and ran both hands through her hair. There was so much to do and she was already at her wits’ end trying to figure out what to do next. She had his pills to get ready, needed to get him dinner and into bed, to clean up the house, and more. His moment of gentleness was a surprise, but a welcome one.

“Anya, can…” Dad gave a muffled cough and a pained groan after it. “Can you come…help me, please?”

“Coming!” she called, flustered more and more by the second. What he needed was a full-time nurse, but they didn’t have the money and she didn’t have the time to hire one, so Anya would have to do.

The next few days were somehow boring and exhausting at the same time. Anya had to help her father with getting in and out of bed, to the bathroom, fixing his meals, tracking his medication, helping to dress and undress him, and more. It was never her dream of becoming a live-in caregiver, but she felt obligated. Anya still loved her father, even if he was very emotionally distant—she always felt a lingering ache because of it, one that had pained her for her entire life.

Her Dad seemed to recover slowly, acting very lethargic and drugged at first; it took him several hours to wake up in the mornings. He was still irritable sometimes, and only allowed her to help him get dressed under duress, but at night he fell asleep with no trouble. His neck brace soon came off and only the cast remained.

Almost a week after bringing her father home, Anya took some time to clean her old bedroom one night. She started going through her bedroom drawers, looking for room to store the clothes she’d brought home, when she found a sealed envelope with her name written on it in her mother’s handwriting—an envelope she’d never knew was there.

Anya pulled it out and, after carefully ripping one end open, she pulled out the piece of paper and unfolded it while sitting on her bed. It was dated a month before her mother left.

Anya,

I am sorry. I never meant to hurt you, though I admit I said many hurtful things. I drove you away, and for that, I am truly sorry.

Secondly, what I intend to do isn’t your fault. Your father has a fishing trip planned this spring, and I think I will do it then—just get in a car and drive to where no one knows me and start over. He doesn’t know I’m leaving. No one does.

Anya hissed and dropped the letter as if it was hot enough to burn her. Her mother hadn’t warned her, hadn’t prepared her—she simply left and never returned. Hands trembling, breathing soft and shallow, Anya picked the letter back up and picked up where she’d left off.

He won’t understand. But you, Anya, must understand that I have no other choices left. I trust only you will find this letter and keep my secret for me.

Anton was a good father while you were growing up. For all his faults, he does love you.

“I’m sorry, what?” Anya frowned at the paper, reading that line again and again. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe her father loved her, it was just that Anya couldn’t remember feeling it at all. Anton was a blank slate, an aloof and quiet man who kept his thoughts and feelings to himself. She always wanted him to open up and to love her, but he never seemed to.

Biting her lip, she continued to read.

What you never saw was who he becomes every night after falling asleep, how he awakens again as a different person—forceful, controlling, cruel. For years I’ve served and slaved for him, feeding his monstrous appetite every night. Every morning he awakens with no memory of the night before it…but I remember all of them.

Now, I have decided I cannot feed the beast any further. I can bear the weight of his secret no longer.

Please forgive me, Anya. His appetite has grown stronger since you left for university. I think that, in my anger, I drove you away, so vent your anger back on my memory, if you must. Perhaps I deserve it. Perhaps you can take care of him since I no longer can. Perhaps you can find a way to help curb his behaviors or calm them at last.

Perhaps. Perhaps.

But remember, Anya: never trust yourself alone with him after dark.

Your mother.

V.

Anya checked the paper for other writing or final notes, but there was nothing else written on the paper or inside in the envelope. She read the note twice more, just in case. As a warning it was plainly clear…and yet, not at all.

The pain of her mother’s leaving was still fresher than Anya cared to admit. She frowned at the paper, puzzling over its message and its warning; part of her had wanted to throw the letter away, but now that she’d read it all, Anya was only more puzzled.

“What, is he a vampire or something?” Anya put down the paper, crept to her Dad’s door and carefully pushed it open. She needn’t have worried: he was dead to the world, sleeping peacefully without so much as a snore. She stared at him for a long moment, then pulled the door shut again.

The thought of her father turning into some hungry, sex-crazed man at night seemed laughable—her Dad didn’t even like wearing a swimsuit. He rarely showed any emotion that wasn’t annoyance of some kind. She wasn’t even sure if he’d ever gone outside without a shirt on. She tried to think of him as her mother had described and it felt too ridiculous for words.

But…her mother was gone. Anya was the only person left who could take care of her Dad. She had to push down her old heartache and keep going, for his sake. They were on their own.

Anya put the note away. Then she forced herself to eat, but had precious little appetite—the words and warning in her mother’s letter were burning in her brain, becoming a new obsession. The letter said that Dad became or turned into someone else at night…but what could Anya do about it? She’d seen no sign of Dad’s behavior deviating or changing since she brought him home—if anything, he seemed even more embarrassed at needing her help with everyday tasks. He was also like any injured person: sore, irritated, and worn out.

Anya tried to put the letter out of her mind. She needed to go to bed, but not before some self-pampering—she’d certainly earned that much. So she quietly slipped into the master bath and shut the door, moving about by the low glow of a night light burning on the wall. Anya turned on the shower, disrobed in the dark and stepped into the stall after shutting the door behind her. The house’s other bathroom had a shower, but the master’s was twice as large and much nicer, completely wasted on her dad. He wouldn’t mind her borrowing it.

For a few long, silent minutes she stood under the hot spray, soaking it in. Hot water poured down her neck and back, sliding over her ass and along her legs before it slithered down the drain. After all of the work of the last few days—fixing her Dad’s meals, dressing him, cleaning the house, handling his meds, running errands, and more—finding her mother’s letter was a twisted layer of icing atop the exhausting lump of cake. Anya stared at the tile wall, puzzling on it, turning the details over in her mind. Anya had some vague memories of her Dad taking a fishing trip, but she’d been too busy with classes to care much about it.

Slicking her hair back, wiping her eyes clear, Anya went about washing herself. She squeezed a thick glob of soap into her hands and began to rub herself all over, sighing softly in the hot air. Her belly was soft and her breasts felt heavy in both hands. Her thighs tightened under her touches and her skin was tingling all over. Anya felt sensitive to her own fingers—she was renewed, refreshed, and her slippery touch felt very, very good.

Anya’s sex drive had always been excessive, but that was just something she’d learned to live with. She had precious little time to deal with it while away at school, and no time at all since she’d come home again. For now, she could linger and take her time, enjoy her own body as much as she liked. She’d earned that much, at least.

Her breathing softened as Anya gently pulled at her nipples. The swollen nubs of flesh thickened at her touch; her breasts tightened, felt even heavier to the touch. She leaned against the wall on one arm while the other’s slick fingers spread across her tummy and toyed with the dark curls between her legs.

Perhaps you can take care of him, the letter said. Anya’s mind took a very dark and unexpected turn that left her face burning and her mouth wide open, breathing deep in the steamy air. Her clit was tight when Anya touched it with a slippery fingertip. She rubbed it swiftly, sending hot pulses of pleasure through her belly, down her thighs and out of her throbbing, parted pussy lips.

“Oh god!” Anya whimpered the words, overcome by a lust she couldn’t control or resist. Spreading her legs wider and curling her toes, she flicked her hard bean while soaking in the hot spray. The letter implied that Dad became some hungry animal; perhaps Anya should be the one who saw that he was well fed. The very idea of her father as a sexual creature filled her with confusing, conflicting thoughts and emotions. It also made Anya stroke herself faster, focusing on rubbing herself and not wasting a second—she wanted to cum, to burn herself on the altar of those wicked thoughts.

Seconds ticked by, each more tense and fiery than the one before. Anya’s breathing turned to soft, panicked sounds; the nightlight outside the stall flickered as she closed her eyes tight. “Yes,” she whispered, “yes! So close! So close…! Mmmmmm!”

Her pleasure born of perverse desires filled Anya up. She came with a wild, blinding flash of light behind her eyes as her body stiffened, pressing tight to the wall. Every nerve ending she had was suddenly made of liquid fire and it filled her up, swelling up in her pussy and melting down into her toes. Anya sank to her knees on the floor, shivering, her hand curled tight between her legs.

After a long, long moment to catch her breath and compose herself, Anya pushed back to her feet. She felt strange, guilty of some offense that left her marked or dirty. The soap glistening on her naked flesh was running down and pooling under her feet. She felt strange and disturbed as she washed herself clean again, unsure of how to process what she felt or what to do about it.

Anya reached to turn the water off as a dark silhouette opened the shower door and stepped inside, making her gasp and look up in shock and surprise. He was tall and imposing, blocking the solitary light burning behind him. Dad leaned over her, his eyes shining in the dark. His casted arm was up against the wall while his face hung just an inch or two from hers. He showed a long, lean smile; his voice, when he spoke, sounded deeper, darker.

Hungrier.

“Hello there.”

It was actually more of a shock for Anya that she saw her father naked than realizing that he could see her in the same state. She gasped and covered her breasts with one arm while sticking the other hand down between her legs. Her face was still hot on account of her fading orgasm. “Dad! What are you—!”

“Stop.” His voice was huskier, deeper, like a growl. He tugged at her hands, pushed them down. “Don’t do that.”

She began to cover herself again. “But, Dad—!”

He grabbed her chin hard enough to cut her off. Anya whimpered as he looked into her eyes. “I said don’t. Don’t try to hide yourself from me.”

Too stunned to answer at first, she nodded her head before looking down, unable to meet his hungry stare for long. He was a acting like a different person entirely; the man who’d been embarrassed at needing help with bathroom breaks or wearing sweatpants was leering at her like she was a piece of raw meat. “I’m finished with my s-shower,” she murmured, trying to push past him. “I’m getting out.”

“No, you’re not.” Dad grabbed his daughter by her wet hair. “We’re just getting started.” He pushed Anya against the wall and she cried out, then bit her lip to repress a moan as he pushed up behind her, pinning her in place. His hard, wet body was distracting, but nothing compared to his long shaft as it ground against her ass. “You and I are going to get reacquainted tonight.”

As he started to grind himself on her, sliding through the soaked channel between her cheeks, Anya moaned again. This was what the letter had warned her about; this man had her father’s face, but he didn’t act like him at all. Part of her wanted to struggle, to fight or try to escape…and part of her wanted to feel even more of him, to melt under his touch and writhe under his stiff cock. A longing she’d always felt but never dared to name filled her up and roared in her ears.

Before she could make a decision, he made it for her. Dad reached up between Anya’s legs, sliding his fingers through her wet curls. “What the fuck is this?” he snarled.

His rough touch and rougher voice made Anya flinch. “W-What’s what?!”

“This cunt is a fucking bird’s nest.” Dad snorted as he pushed a long finger inside her wet puss, pumping it with slow, deep strokes. “Next time I get my hands on you, you’ll be shaved and cleaned like a good girl. Won’t you, Annie?”

The world went still; her eyes dilated and her heart fluttered in her breast. He hadn’t called her that name in years, and it had an immediate effect: suddenly she felt small and helpless, unable to resist his words and wicked touches. Pushing back against him, she spread her feet wider apart for his probing touch, pressing her ass up to his cock. “N-Next time?!”

“Tomorrow night,” he said as his finger slid in and out of her slippery slit, pumping her pussy. “I want this cunny good and smooth the next time I see it.”

“Cunny?!” His choice of word was so gratuitous and perverse that she blushed, all over. It made her shiver and widen her legs even more. She didn’t want him to touch her, but oh, how she loved every second of it.

“You heard me.” His voice was so fierce, so strong and demanding, that it made her want to melt. “Have this cunny shaved by tomorrow night. Understand?”

“Yes!” she cried. Her head was spinning at the sudden, surreal jump from fantasy to reality, but she didn’t fight him. Placating her father seemed like the smarter choice, but it was also easy to give in—so much easier than she could’ve expected.

“Yes what?” He kept finger-fucking her and the wet, gooey sounds of her desire filled the hot air.

“Mmmmmyes, Daddy!” Anya said what felt natural and right in that moment—from the way his finger stroked her wet slit to how hard his cock felt as it pressed against her, she was sure it was the right choice. And it’d been far, far too long since she’d felt wanted by anyone, or had more than her fingers to satisfy herself. She whimpered at his touch and gave into his urges—he wanted her to be his Annie, so she readily gave in.

“That’s right.” Daddy’s hungry voice sounded excited as he pulled his finger free of the hot vise between her legs. He stepped back, pulling her with him, and sank his fingers hard into her hips. “Now bend over, baby.”

Annie was trapped in that shower with him, trapped in his clinging hands, trapped by the power of his voice. “But Daddy… Do I have t—?” The swat of his one hand against her ass was hard enough to sting as it cut her off. Annie jumped with a gasp. “Daddy, no!” But he kept spanking her without saying a word. She hung her head and took each blow with a whimper or a cry until her ass was throbbing and tingling while the hot water kept running over her.

“I said: bend over.”

Annie knew she shouldn’t give in, that she should fight him and try to get away. But part of her also wanted to give in, and that desire quickly won out. “Yes, Daddy,” she whispered. Her face was burning again with arousal and shame, burning as hot as her throbbing bottom, but that wasn’t enough to keep her from bending over and pressing her palms against the wall for balance.

The sudden, harsh invasion of his cock into her soaked cunt made Annie cry out again, but she kept her head bowed while her dripping hair hung down and her breasts swayed with his hard strokes. His fucking was harsh, slamming his hips to hers while his fingers curled tighter around her wide hips. Every breath came as a whimper; every gasp was followed by a moan.

“Fuck, what a cunt this is!” Daddy sounded pleased as he pounded her from behind, bouncing against her thick bottom. “…now say ‘thank you,’ Annie.”

“Mmm! Th-Thank you, Daddy!” Annie said, tripping over her own tongue in her hurry to obey. “You… You’re fucking me, Daddy!!”

“That’s because you’re here with me now, little Annie.” Daddy grunted and growled while their wicked union of flesh and pleasure continued. “Your Daddy has needs, and you’re here to take care of them.” He grabbed Annie’s wet hair, pulling her head up again; she winced and trembled in his grasp, but it also made her pussy tighten and she moaned louder at the feel of him inside her.

“Mm! Daddy! Your cock…! It’s so big! Oh fuck!” Annie could only hope to heighten his pleasure, to urge him to cum. Turning her head, she looked back at his dripping face and crazed eyes. It was a look of pure, animal lust like she’d never seen on his face, or from any lover, ever before.

“You like Daddy’s cock, don’t you, baby?” He smirked. “Say how much you like it.”

“I…! N-No, Daddy!” Annie shook her head, sobbing softly. “We shouldn’t! I’m your daughter, Daddy! And it… It shouldn’t feel this good!” She sounded close to tears.

“But it does,” he said. He didn’t slow down—instead, his speed increased, thrusting harder into her clenching pussy.

“It shouldn’t!” she countered with a harsh sob. “You shouldn’t…be fucking me…like this!” Annie’s moans grew louder and louder as his dick sank inside of her deeper and deeper. The hardest part about resisting him was how good it felt to give in. Resisting him only made him fuck her even harder.

“I’m not going to stop,” Daddy said. He shifted his grip to her forearms and started pounding into her cunt with a faster, bruising rhythm.

“Daddy! No! Not so hard, Daddy!” Annie whimpered and curled her hands tight into trembling fists. “Don’t fuck me like that! Don’t… Don’t pound my pussy! Don’t fuck me so deep! Ohhhh!”

“I’ll fuck you any way I want, and you’ll beg me for more!” His voice demanded obedience, submission. Daddy’s fingers squeezed her arms so tight he was going to leave bruises behind. “You’re mine now—you got that?!”

Annie’s head hung low and her moans turned to loud, shrill cries. Annie’s resolve wavered and finally broke under the force of his cock, his hard fucking and the sound of her wet cheeks clapping together. “Yes! Yes, Daddy, I-I get it!” Annie liked the way he was fucking her. She wanted him to fuck her even more.

“I’ll fuck you…as much as…I please!” He was short of breath, but so was she. “Understand?”

Annie cried out to please him, and for her own pleasure. “Yes! Fuck me, Daddy! Fuck me! I’m yours!” Her cries spurred him on and he pounded her pussy with such force and fervor that Annie saw colored lights flash in her eyes. When she heard his breath rattle in his throat and felt him push tight against her bottom one last time, her eyes popped open again. “No, Daddy, no! Don’t cum inside me!”

“Nnnnnnnngh!” Daddy did indeed cum inside her, flooding his daughter’s cunt with thick, hot squirts of his fertile seed. “Mmmmmmmmmm, but it’s so good,” he growled, pinning her to the wall again as his thick shaft continued to squirt his cum in her belly.

Annie shivered in spite of the heat, hardly able to believe what a dangerous thing that he’d done, but the danger was what made it feel so good. The taboo they’d broken was almost unspeakable, and she already wanted to do it again. As he let her down onto both feet and pulled out of her, she could feel that hot spunk sliding down her legs.

Daddy grabbed her hair in his hand again. “If I want to cum inside you, I will. I’ll fuck you anyway I want to.” He pushed her down to her knees while spinning her around. His spent cock dangled before her eyes, slick and stained with their sticky secretions, dripping with cum. “Clean me up, girl. Now.”

“Y-Yes, Daddy.” Her stomach was twisted in knots. Annie leaned in close, letting her tongue out to slide it across his shaft. At first, she was reluctant but the hand in her hair was insistent and she knew fighting him was useless. After moistening her mouth, Annie opened it and fought not to gag as her father’s cock slid into her mouth. The taste of his cum was strong and very bitter, making her whimper in protest.

“Thaaaat’s it,” Daddy said. He tightened his good hand in her hair, pushing his cock deeper still. When Annie did gag and clutched his thighs, he tightened his grip and began fucking her mouth, slipping in and out between her lips. “Suck Daddy’s cock, slut, work that tongue. Mmmm… Like that, Annie. Yessss.”

Tears leaked at the corner of her eyes as Annie obeyed, but it was a challenge to ignore the taste of his cum as her throat tightened up. The hot water falling on her head poured down into her eyes and snuck into her flared nostrils, making her want to cough; her sucking also made his cock swell again, and she had to fight his grip, pulling off to take a deep, shuddering breath.

“I c-cleaned it, Daddy,” she said, her forehead resting on his thigh. “Just like you wanted.” Annie wanted that night to end, and she wanted it to keep going. Had her mother really been forced to serve him like this every night? The idea made her pussy quiver with excitement, and her heart stutter in fear. “P-Please let me go now!”

He pushed her head up to look at him. His cock dominated her vision, thick and twitching in front of her face. His face was in shadow and his eyes were bright. “You think I’m done with you?”

Annie gasped involuntarily; when she tried to push away, his good hand tightened again in her hair again, prohibiting her from escaping. “But, Daddy! I… I-I thought you said—!”

“You aren’t here to think, slut. You’re here to be fucked.” Daddy let go of her hair for a moment. “Now lie down.”

Annie whimpered again as she stretched out across the floor of the large stall, looking up at him with new fear and arousal inside her. The floor was so hot it stung her ass. “Are you gonna…gonna fuck me some more, Daddy?”

“What did I say?!” His voice was so loud it shook the glass door.

The force of his angry voice was so strong that Annie cried out and raised her hands, as if to block a physical blow. “That I-I’m here to be fucked! And you’ll fuck me anyway you want!! Don’t be angry with me, Daddy, please!”

“That’s exactly what you’re here for,” he growled. “Not to ask me a thousand useless questions.”

As Annie watched, Daddy stretched out on top of her, a hint of discomfort on his strong face. Her immediate reaction was one of concern, not fear. “Oh, Daddy!” She reached up for him. “You’re still hurt!”

“I’m fine.” He grunted and rested most of his weight on his good arm, but also pressed her body down to the hot tiles, making Annie squirm beneath him. Then she started squirming for a different reason as his cock began to slide against the soaked, slippery curls between her legs. “Such a sweet, sweet cunny my Annie has,” he said, breathing hot in her ear.

Annie closed her eyes and clutched his shoulders. “Don’t call it that, Daddy!” she said, her face burning. “It makes me…feel all funny.”

“Feel like what, girl?” He moved more slowly, rocking his hips with deep, heavy grunt. His cock was so close, so ready to fuck her again, and every second he held back made Annie want him to fuck her even harder.

“Like a…a little baby, Daddy.” Annie covered her burning face with her hands, groaning as his cock continued to slide against her furry pussy. “Like I’m an innocent little girl, and my Daddy’s ready to fuck me again! Like my Daddy’s going to rape me so hard I’ll start crying and beg him to stop, but he won’t…!” She peeked up at him, trying not to tremble, not knowing if it was out of fear, or anticipation. “You won’t…will you, Daddy.” She didn’t state it as a question—Annie already knew the answer.

“No.” His chuckle sounded so dark and wicked, but Annie felt a hot thrill of excitement when she heard it. “By the time we’re done, there won’t be anything innocent left in you at all.” He pushed inside her cum-slick pussy again, sliding right to the hilt in one go.

“Daddy! Oh fuck!” Annie clung to her father, wrapping arms and legs around him as they became one again. He filled her up and left her wanting more, proving how right he was—she was no innocent. With that, her transformation was complete. “Fuck me! Fuck me again, Daddy!”