This week we’re celebrating the release of “Daddy’s Lessons”, the hot new noncon father-daughter incest tale from author Hazel Grace. (Click here to view Daddy’s Lessons in the ATR store.)
But in addition to this great new release, Hazel is also sharing her shorter book “Daddy’s Wife Replacement” completely free! Read the conclusion to this hot story here!
(Click here to read Part 1.)
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When daddy put down the empty beer bottle, I took it as a sign that he was done with me, done forcing me to behave like a depraved whore, at least for the moment, and I could make myself scarce in the kitchen.
I wanted to hide my shameful nakedness behind the half wall separating the two areas of our ground floor and use my house chores to get some time alone and think and cry and grieve for my lost innocence.
Gathering the little that was left of my dignity and all the courage I could conjure, I tried to get up from the coffee table and flee the embarrassing scene of my bottle-fucking.
In the heat of the moment, it had felt way too good, way too right, what I was doing, but now, in my post-orgasm clarity, all I could see was how low I’d sunk.
What was wrong with me, to get so aroused that I’d been willing to fuck an object?
In front of my daddy?
After he’d told me he wanted to make me into his new wife, even?
Had we both lost our minds?
I’d barely gotten a few inches between me and the object of my damnation, when daddy’s hand reached out like the tentacle of an unholy monster and he grabbed onto my waist, pulling me back towards him.
Spent from the earlier exertion, I lost my balance and I landed squarely into his lap, which made him laugh.
“What a dirty little nympho you are, girl,” he chuckled, “So eager to hop on a real cock.”
He pressed me against his groin and I could feel the massive erection he was sporting.
I opened my mouth to mumble something to excuse my behavior, to dismiss his filthy assessment of my person, but daddy had already busied himself with my body again.
He was peppering kisses all over my face, neck and chest, licking and nibbling at every bit of exposed flesh he could comfortably reach.
It was like… like he was hungering for me. Like he wanted to consume me whole, in the same way a hungry man would devour a fine steak, or a religious man the Lord’s gospel.
“You are so beautiful,” he murmured into the hollow at my throat as I gasped for breath, scared of the things the feel of his hard body against my yielding softness was making me think and desire. “So fucking perfect., so much better than your mother.”
His hand cupped my cheek, fingers tangling in my curly, blonde, hair while a thumb stroked across my lips. A slow smile spread on his face like he hadn’t done anything but the most divine things to me since last night and then he brought his lips down onto mine, kissing me hard enough that it hurt.
My grunts of pain only made daddy kiss me harder, possessively so, until I couldn’t breathe or speak. Only when we were both gasping for air did he pull back from the heated embrace, leaving us staring into each other’s eyes—his bright green ones, darkly rimmed by long lashes and framed with thick black eyebrows, and mine, blue-green flecked with gold, a sea of azure shining in the summer sky, among white sand-like features.
I felt lit up inside myself: electrified by his touch, the taste of him on my tongue, the heat of our bodies pressed together, the sound of his ragged breathing echoing through his lungs and more importantly the way his cock would twitch and nudge me between my legs, cheekily demanding entrance into my body.
“I can’t wait any longer, Daisy,” he breathed.
And then daddy pushed me onto my back, climbing on top of me, full of need and lust.
This was it, I thought.
The moment I’d been dreading.
It had come at once all too soon and too late.
“Continue to be good and take my cock now,” he whispered, barely in control of himself or his voice. “I need to be inside your little cunt or my balls are going to explode.”
“Yes, daddy.”
I didn’t protest when he reached down between our bodies and pulled my legs apart, then brought them higher, above his hips, where he told me to keep them until he was done using me.
I didn’t protest when I felt the tip of his cock nudge the small, gaping, hole of my pussy, either.
When daddy went back to kissing my neck, his hot breath upon my sweat-chilled skin, and promised I was going to enjoy this even more than I did the bottle-fuck, I kept quiet.
I was sure he was lying and that I was going to hate every second of it.
But since he wasn’t going to stop, what use would speaking out be?
I decided to just let him do his thing, praying he’d at least cum faster than he did last night.
“Fuck me, daddy,” I breathed, giving him that false sense of permission he seemed to be wanting from me.
And then…
Then daddy was inside my body.
One hard, fast, thrust, and he had already ripped through my hymen and buried his cock in my unprotected vagina, before proceeding to fuck me like his life depended on it.
My body bounced beneath his and the coffee table creaked under our combined weight and there was so much of everything going on at once, so many noises and new sensations, that my brain went into overload.
I wrapped my arms around daddy’s shoulders for some measure of stability, both mental and physical. He was using me to get off and I was using his body like an anchor, because what he was doing in me, the way he was moving and the things he was saying, they were making me feel like I’d lost my mind and this was happening to someone else.
But it wasn’t someone else that daddy was fucking.
It was me.
His daughter.
And I wanted to say I hated it, that it hurt, that it was as humiliating as everything that had come before it, but it wasn’t.
Not really.
It only felt bad in a few places—the initial penetration, the part about having to hold generally still while he fucked me, not being able to move with any real purpose except to arch my spine and lift my ass up toward him.
But mostly, it felt incredible.
Like nothing I could have imagined.
Like something I should never want to experience again.
Because how could I be here, living through this – sex with my very own father, and actually think I wouldn’t hate him if he did it to me again, once or twice, or hell, whenever he felt like it?
How could I ever go back to a normal life after having experienced this kind of sick, perverted, sinful pleasure?
Daddy thrust into me over and over again, burying himself deeper each time, pushing against the walls of my womb and forcing endless squeals from my lips, making me feel used and dirty and yet utterly satisfied at the same time.
I could feel it again, the same sensation from earlier, that strange mixture of pain and pleasure that made my head spin.
Was Daddy’s cock stretching open my insides going to make me cum?
How could that happen?
It was wrong on so many levels, yet bound to happen anyway.
That was, unless I did something to save myself from such depravity.
Panicking, not wanting to allow myself to cum from my daddy’s cock pounding me, I tried to push myself away from him, or to force him to pull out of me, but he held tight and continued to pump his thick meat inside my tender, virgin pussy, harder and faster than he’d done before.
He probably realized I was trying to avoid cumming. That I didn’t want to give him what he wanted most right now, which was probably why he wasn’t going to release me from his iron grip on my waist unless his balls were empty.
So I stopped fighting it.
I let my body relax and accept the natural outcome of things.
I let myself surrender to the inevitable orgasm, knowing that it might be the best one I’ve ever had.
Knowing that I was almost certainly going to regret it later. After all, what sort of person climaxed from sex with their own father?
As soon as I did, though, the first wave hit me and sent me reeling, clutching at daddy’s shoulders. If he hadn’t pinned me down, holding me in place with his sheer body weight, I was almost positive I would’ve slid off his cock. My pussy felt that slick, my juices and daddy’s cum combining into a cocktail of incestuous perversion.
And just like that, seconds later, we were both suddenly done with each other.
Daddy pulled out of me and climbed off of me, while I remained sprawled on top of the coffee table, like an exhausted rag doll, panting for air and staring up at his face with half-lidded eyes while cum dripped out of my freshly used pussy.
A part of me was hoping he’d say something sappy and sugary sweet, or make some sort of joke, something to lighten the mood or show me that what he just did to me wasn’t just lust or like he’d put it, a bodily need, but the more I waited, the more it became obvious he wasn’t going to do anything of the sort.
“Go get me a sandwich,” was all daddy ended up saying.
I limped my way to the kitchen, where I fixed him an egg salad snack and I even brought him a couple of new beers, cold from the fridge.
Then I watched him eat and drink, hanging near him like a stupid puppy needing a head pat, while his entire focus was on the TV he’d so conveniently put in front of the couch.
He hadn’t even tucked himself back inside his boxers, I noticed.
He was content.
His needs had been met.
His balls had been emptied.
I had submitted to his demands.
What else was there to it?
I wanted to get angry.
So was that how things were going to be like? He’d get horny, fuck me or use me in some way, then we’d both get back to our business?
But then again, what else could there be? Love, like that between a man and a woman?
Daddy might’ve said I was his new wife, but that could only be in name, this thing we were doing, playing at, was… was wrong, and twisted and fifty kinds of inappropriate.
I knew it, and yet I still found myself reaching for the freshly emptied beer bottle, that I then wasted no time in putting inside my cunt. There I was, leaning back on the other end of the couch, gently touching myself while pumping a makeshift dildo in and out of my newly deflowered vagina.
It didn’t take daddy long to notice what I was doing.
I hadn’t given much thought to what he might think or do to me, when he saw how I was behaving, other than imagine he might want to fuck me again.
Oddly enough, the idea no longer made me recoil.
“What are you doing, girl?”
I wasn’t sure myself. I wasn’t feeling horny, really. I was fucking myself for the heck of it, to be honest.
I shrugged. “I dunno.”
“If you’re going to do that, at least sit your ass down in front of me so I can watch.” I made to remove the bottle from between my legs so I could do as told, but daddy put a hand on it to stop me. “Keep that in there and waddle over. You don’t get to act the fool and then demand I treat you with any decency. Move, girl.”
I awkwardly sat down onto the coffee table, my pussy muscles struggling to keep the bottle lodged deep inside, and then I resumed my masturbation.
From time to time, I would need to give my right hand a break and I’d let daddy thrust it into my wet pussy, but in general, we spent the better part of the morning with my legs splayed and daddy equally enjoying the news and the sight of his once innocent and sweet daughter acting like a whore.
And then it was time for daddy to go to work.
I expected him to just leave me there, to my own devices, a catatonic, newly chronic, masturbator, but he grabbed me by my hair and pulled me upwards. The movement caused the beer bottle to lodge itself much deeper inside my vagina that I found comfortable, but daddy wasn’t letting me go.
I opened my mouth to protest, but as he yanked me towards his crotch, I realized what he had in mind.
“Empty the tank before I go, Daisy. From now on, since you have such a libido, you’ll suck the cum out of my balls every time I leave for work and again when I get back home, unless I say I want your pussy or ass instead. And if I happen to have a long lunch break, you’d better be waiting for me by the door, on your fucking knees, ready to suck me off some more.”
His words were spoken matter-of-factly with no hint of anger at all. He simply said them like they were an everyday occurrence, which was exactly how he viewed this new arrangement between us: part of life’s new routine.
It took a few seconds for it to sink into my brain, so that I could process the information properly—and also because his cock kept pulsing against my lips.
Daddy was going to fuck me a lot.
A whole lot.
“Yes, daddy.”
I hadn’t given anyone a blowjob before, but I had a general idea of what it involved.
My tongue swiped across his cockhead and I lapped up a drop of pre-cum from the tip while my hand reached down and squeezed his thickening shaft, firmer and firmer, until I felt his dick twitch beneath my palm.
He seemed to like it when I manhandled his cock, but just a little rough love, enough to spice things a bit.
Then I slid fully forward, down onto my hands and knees, slowly lowering myself over his hard length, taking him inch by delicious inch deep into my mouth.
It didn’t take much for me to start gagging, but daddy held my head firmly in place and, using both of his hands, he guided himself further inside my throat until I could feel the tip of his penis bumping against my tonsils.
Then he started rocking forwards and backwards slightly, making sure each thrust hit that dangly thing.
My eyes watered, but I refused to pull away, even though my gag reflex made my stomach churn.
Daddy must’ve done something similar to mom before because he looked like he knew exactly how to make this work for him.
Maybe not quite this extreme, but still, I think he liked seeing a woman struggle while impaled on his cock.
He kept moaning appreciatively and encouraging me to breathe through my nose and calm down.
My fingers dug into his thighs as my body shuddered under his assault. It felt strange having even less control over what he did to me like this. Not being able to move, only to accept whatever he wanted to do to my mouth.
His hips jerked harder for a few precious thrusts, causing his dick to slide along my tongue, and he groaned loudly as he finally came. My drool dribbled down my chin, along with copious amounts of his cum, but I swallowed a lot too.
When he finished, daddy released my head, allowing me to sit upright again, and to finally dislodge the damned bottle from where it had climbed up inside me. It felt like it was trying to wiggle its way into my very womb, so agonizingly deep it’d gone.
“I hope you liked it, girl, cause you’ll be doing a lot more of that from now on.”
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It was starting to actually hurt to move, I thought, as I tried to get out of bed.
Ever since the morning daddy took my virginity, things had only gotten more intense between us.
Since we’d already reached the point of no return, he figured the harm had been done already and fucking me again and again wasn’t going to damn him any further or shame me any more.
That was why daddy had taken to fucking me every time he got an erection, which, given my constantly naked state, was a pretty often occurrence.
At first I tried to talk him out of it, or at least make him postpone things, so that my pussy could get some respite, but he’d never hear any of it. If I didn’t give into his demands, he’d simply shove me against a wall or table and fuck me like that, knowing I couldn’t fight him off even if I tried my best (and sometimes, I did, just for the hell of it).
I still liked it, though, don’t get me wrong.
Especially when he made me shut up and take it, fucking me to the point of tears, which was honestly the worst part of it all.
Why?
Exactly because I fucking liked it when my daddy had sex with me, even when he forced himself inside my cunt and emptied his balls in me, or on me. Hell, he had even ejaculated down my throat a bunch of times saying cum was better than water, and I still thought it was more amazing than humiliating.
How fast things could change, right?
It didn’t help that he’d kept his end of the bargain and that the more things I did to his cock, for his cock, or with his cock, the better he treated me.
In the weeks that had passed since that day, daddy bought me lots of delicious things to eat and gave me bubble baths and it didn’t matter that after every one of these small pleasures I had to pleasure him in return.
Life was generally good.
It certainly beat having to go find a job and earn my own living.
The only problem was that daddy’s libido was too much for me to handle.
I was constantly sore down there and bruises bloomed all over my body, and while I didn’t think I was sick, lately I felt weak and drowsy every morning.
“Where are you going, wifey?” Daddy asked.
He’d taken to calling me his little wifey not long after he made me wear a wedding band, saying it would make things feel more official between us.
“Nowhere, really. I guess I wanted to stretch my limbs a little?” I giggled.
He reached a hand and grabbed my wrist, roughly pulling me back into bed with him.
“How about you stretch those lips around my cock first and then we’ll see about a walk outside?”
“Outside, daddy? Do you really mean it?”
I hadn’t been outside in weeks!
I hadn’t heard from or spoken to anyone in just as long, either. God! I felt like I would be willing to do anything, anything at all, just to feel the sun’s rays on my skin again.
“Suck me off, girl, you talk too much and that mouth has much better uses, don’t you think?”
“You’re so right, daddy. Lemme see your handsome cock, then!”
Daddy grinned and kicked the blanket covering him off our bed, revealing a massive erection. His cock no longer scared me, even if I could hardly take all of it into my mouth.
“Delicious!”
“Get to it, girl.”
“Hold on, daddy.”
I first opened one of the beer bottles we kept on the nightstand, daddy’s only companion and source of pleasure other than me, and I handed it to him. I wanted him to feel spoiled like a king while I worked on sucking the cum out of his balls.
His eyes widened in surprise.
“What is this, wifey?” He said, looking at me suspiciously. “Is there something else in here besides the booze?”
My face flushed red and I bit my lower lip. I guess other women would’ve tried to hurt him, or poison him, or something, in order to get out, but like I said, I’d kind of gotten used to my new life. A roof over my head, a belly full of food, a pussy full of cock, there were worse ways a girl like me could’ve ended up.
“No, daddy, I just…”
He let out a low chuckle. “You really want to get outside. I understand. Let’s make it more of a challenge, then. I want you to feel like you’ve earned this. The more of my cock you can take in your mouth, the more hours we’ll spend outside. I even got you a pretty dress to wear.”
“Thank you, daddy,” I whispered and bent over to kiss him passionately.
I knew what he meant by making it a challenge for me: he wanted me to deepthroat his cock. Not once, but many times, until he came, which would require me to work hard to please him.
“Come on now, wifey. Show me how good you are at pleasing your husband daddy.”
I licked at his cockhead for a few moments, worshipping the shaft with my hands and tongue, as I was building up the courage and resolution to be the best daughter-wife today.
Then I opened my mouth, but I only took a bit of him inside.
I knew I needed to be clever if I was actually going to do this with any measure of success. I needed to allow myself to grow accustomed to having so much of him down my throat, and that I needed to go inch by inch.
So I bobbed my head slowly, enjoying the feeling of his cock sliding along my tongue, slickening it with my saliva. Daddy tasted salty, but also slightly sour, almost metallic, yet so very masculine and delicious.
“You can do better, girl,” he moaned, grabbing hold of my hair and pushing me down onto his cock.
I loved hearing his voice grow rough and thick. My nipples hardened instantly and my clit throbbed. It wouldn’t be unusual for me to come just by servicing him with my mouth. His pleasure was somehow my pleasure too, now.
Encouraged by his hand on my head, I sucked harder, wanting to prove myself worthy of spending time outdoors. I slid my hands under his ass and lifted him higher, forcing him deeper inside my mouth, gagging a little as I struggled to swallow more of him.
I then looked up at daddy, who smiled down at me, clearly impressed.
“Keep it up,” he said, chugging some of that beer I’d gotten for him.
I nodded vigorously, unable to speak with a mouth so fully stuffed with cock, and just went back to work.
After another minute or two of strained gagging and sheer willpower-enabled hardcore sucking, I could somewhat hold it there, letting him enjoy the sensation of being buried in my throat, before pulling away and then taking him down again.
I had his cock almost all the way to the hilt, when I felt daddy tense.
I heard the bottle’s glass body hit the hard wood of the nightstand and before I could wonder if he was already done with it, daddy then pushed me down the last inch.
It was suddenly too much for me to handle.
I panicked and tried to get up for air, but daddy used both of his hands to keep me on his cock. I gagged loudly, coughing and trying to breathe.
“Shhh, don’t make a mess now,” daddy said, stroking my hair.
“Nnngh, nnnn!”
“Calm down, Daisy, breathe through your nose.”
When I finally pulled myself together enough to look up, daddy was grinning at me, watching me struggle to catch my breath, as if he was enjoying my desperation.
I eventually managed to calm myself down and take a few deep breaths, restoring the blood flow to my brain, and then once I was in control of myself again, I started moving my head back and forth, while still keeping the majority of daddy’s cock in my throat.
Seeing how I was now comfortably managing the next step in deepthroating a man, daddy began thrusting forward, causing me to choke and gag once more, but this time I was ready for it, and I swallowed every inch daddy ruthlessly pushed down my throat.
This went on for several long minutes, and each time I thought I had mastered it, daddy seemed to push me farther and faster.
And then it was no longer about me finally doing a good job with deepthroating him, but about skull-fucking me in a way that felt like a punishment, almost. Daddy would force himself into my mouth as far he could go until his balls slapped against my chin with an audible smack and then after letting out another loud moan, he’d pull almost all the way back before pushing hard downward again.
He repeated this cycle over and over and not only did I feel like my face might explode from trying to keep up, that he was fucking the brains out of my head, but also that something inside of me wanted nothing more than to please him, even under these circumstances.
I didn’t want to really think anymore.
I was happy letting daddy decide my fate – what I did with my body, how I learned to draw pleasure from his, and just… submit and live life as a sex toy slash housewife.
I had somehow developed a deep need to give daddy what he wanted, be punished by him if necessary, and let that be my joy.
I needed to make sure that I never disappointed him or displeased him in any way. He always knew best when it came to everything else anyway: food, clothing, where we lived, our finances—and so much more besides.
Why shouldn’t I simply do whatever he asked of me sexually? It wasn’t like anything else mattered at this point; there were no consequences left.
“That’s it, wifey, you’re finally starting to get it,” daddy commented, as if he was able to read my mind.
It took some effort to swallow around daddy’s cock, but I quickly got used to it, and soon enough my efforts were rewarded with a stream of hot, delicious cum.
My eyes widened at first, wondering why daddy hadn’t pulled out yet, since he usually made such a show of pulling out whenever he shot off in my mouth, but apparently he decided otherwise. Instead of shooting rope after rope onto my tongue, he kept pumping, making sure I received most of his seed directly into my stomach.
After emptying himself completely into my mouth, daddy held my hair tightly and fucked my face for a little longer, slowly withdrawing his cock until it popped out of my lips with a wet slurp.
Then he grabbed one of my boobs and squeezed roughly.
I yelped, wincing in pain.
“Daddy, it hurts!”
“I sure hope it does, my little bitch-wife. That was for you dreaming of the world outside.” He pinched my nipple between his fingers and pulled, continuing. “Your life is here with me. The only reason I’m even considering you setting foot outside of these four walls is because I think you’re pregnant and I don’t want anything to happen to our baby. We’ll just go see a doctor and have some tests done.”
It hadn’t even crossed my mind that daddy might associate me wanting to get some fresh air for a bit with my mom leaving him, but now that he was manhandling me like that and saying as much, I supposed it made sense.
What didn’t make sense, however, was me being pregnant already. Somehow, my brain couldn’t wrap its little dumb neurons around that idea.
“A baby? How…”
Daddy then grabbed both of my tits and used them to pull me into his lap. I didn’t even care about the pain at this point.
He sighed. “Now I know you’re not that dumb. I’ve fucked you too many times for you not to have considered this.”
The jury was out on just how smart I was, or wasn’t, rather.
“So what happens now, daddy?”
“If you’re pregnant, I’ll keep you both right where you belong, safe inside this house. And if you give me a son, Daisy, a healthy baby boy to inherit my little modern empire, I’ll see about making you a little garden to spend your Sunday evenings in. My cock will probably be buried in one of your precious fuckholes, but at least you’ll be outside.”
I supposed that since I would eventually want children of my own, like any normal woman, and since I wouldn’t be getting fucked by anyone else other than daddy, this not-that-unexpected plot twist in the novel of my life was something that I would have to get used to as well.
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If you liked this story, please support its creation with a purchase of Daddy’s Lessons for only $4.99 USD in the ATR store, with a free copy of Daddy’s Wife Replacement included! (Click here to view in store.)
And you can find more Hazel Grace on Smashwords – where, as at this writing, there are many titles at discounted prices in the Smashwords sale! (Click here to find Hazel Grace on Smashwords.)
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