One Night With Daddy

"The idea of rough sex turns me on now," she said. "I need to feel pain when I cum. I don't know why. I try to do it myself, but it just doesn't work."

"Why don't you do what the doctor said then?" I demanded. "Go find some guy to role-play with you. Why the hell haven't you gotten better on your own?"

"Will!" the doctor said. "Kara is trying. Please do not discourage her."

"No, he's right," Kara said, lying down on the longue, looking up at the ceiling. "I have tried. I asked my boyfriend on prom night if he'd pretend to be my daddy. He was so grossed out. He told everyone at school. I was humiliated. I don't know if you've noticed, but I don't exactly have many friends anymore. But at least I'm still a virgin, Daddy. I'm glad he didn't wanna pretend, because if he had, I probably woulda let him fuck me. But I want you to fuck me first."

"Jesus Christ."

"Kara," the doctor said, "remember what we talked about."

"Oh, right. I meant to say I know it's wrong to think that, so I'm trying to work through it... unless you really do wanna fuck me. I'd do anything you told me to, Daddy. Anything."

"Kara," the doctor said.

"Sorry," she said, putting the pillow over her face.

"Will, what Kara is trying to do is tempt you into a sexual relationship. As I said, that's her motivation. And therein lies her treatment. I believe trying to tempt you is what she needs to get this out of her system. Your role is to be a soundboard for her to bounce these thoughts off. It's your job, Will, to be her rock."

"What does that mean, be her rock? Because it sounds like you're suggesting I would actually do something with my daughter."

"Of course not, Will. It's not my job to tell you what to do. It's my job to help you come to a decision."

"Again, I'm not hearing you say 'don't touch your daughter,' because for the record, I wouldn't."

"Please don't say that, Will. I don't want you to dismiss the notion. Father-daughter incest is much more common than one might expect. In fact, I recently read about a court case where a father was accused of fornicating with his daughter. The evidence was quite surprising."

"Doctor, I want you to tell Kara right here and now that I am never, ever---"

"Will, please!" the doctor said urgently. "I think what Kara needs from you now is the comfort of a father."

"Kara," I said, "step outside and give me a moment alone with the doctor."

Kara stood up. Without looking at me, she made her way to the door and passed through. I turned on the doctor.

"Are you fucking insane?" I demanded. "You're practically telling Kara I'm going to fuck her!"

"Will, I am not encouraging you to do anything. I am merely saying, for Kara's mental health, it's important that she doesn't view her desires as disgusting or impossible. She needs time to come to terms with the things she's told you, and for those desires to reach their ultimate conclusion, whatever they may be."

"They conclusion being that I fuck her?"

"No," the doctor said, keeping her voice low. "If you tell Kara her fantasies are impossible, she may withdraw farther into her shell, a shell that I don't know I can get her out of. Worse, she may resort to harming herself."

"You mean like suicide?"

"I don't know, Will. What I do know is that she has built you up in her mind. She needs your touch to reach orgasm, which I must point out is a serious sign of dependency. You must understand that if you simply reject her and take away all possibility of a sexual relationship, it will shatter her. You need to let her slowly realize that it's not going to happen, that you don't want it, that she doesn't need it. But if you shatter her fragile emotional state before she can learn to cope, she may be sexually dysfunctional for the rest of her life. Do you understand?"

I nodded slowly. "I guess that makes sense."

The doctor looked at her watch. "Our session is just about up. Will, the next few days are critical. One of two things are going to happen. Either she's going to be very shy or very bold. If she's shy, there's no need to encourage her, but if she's bold, you can't ignore her advances. Let her believe there is a chance. Please, for her own well being."

"So what the hell do I do if she comes on to me?"

"Play for time. Tell her it's new. You have to think about it. But above all, do not show her how disgusted you are, and do not use the word 'never.'"

"Fine."

"One more thing."

"Yes?"

"I'd like you to consider spanking her again."

"Excuse me?"

"She is so sexually wound up, it's making her desperate. I think she needs a release."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this."

"I'm not advocating that you have sex with her. I'm simply telling you to give her enough to let her mind teach her body how to reach orgasm. This is a very sexual centered dysfunction. Ultimately, I want her to teach herself how to please herself, which I think will help her move on. A healthy orgasm will put her on the right track."

"I can't spank her, not now that I know what it does to her. No way."

The doctor nodded slowly. "All right. It was only a suggestion. Let me bring her back in."

When Dr. Pearson opened the door, Kara was missing. A quick talk with the receptionist revealed she had left the office. After giving me her card, Dr. Pearson told me to call her if an emergency came up. I wasn't sure what classified as an emergency with a sexually dysfunctional daughter, but I assumed it meant if I found Kara bent over the washing machine with a cucumber in her cunt and my boxers in her mouth, maybe I should give the office a ring.

I did not know what I was going to say to her when I got home. I felt so embarrassed for her and for me. It was humiliating. And I blamed myself. Back when she was a child, I wasn't sure how to punish her. I'd been spanked, and I figured I turned out all right. Of course, Kara did have a way of getting under my skin when she misbehaved. I began to wonder how much of that was rebellion and how much of that was sexual.

"Damn it," I said. "What did I do to her?"

When I pulled down my suburban sidewalk with all the same little houses, I was immediately annoyed to see my daughter's car missing. I parked and went inside. Well, I needed a drink or three in me before she got home anyway. I started the first one and then went outside and sat on the porch. It was a cool evening. Where was she?

The booze let my mind wander. How could she ever think I'd actually fuck her? Then again, my baby girl was pretty. No doubt about that. I loved the way her bangs fell in her eyes, the smile on her pouty lips, the goddamn revealing clothing she wore. I took another swig. Had I ever thought about her sexually? Well, there had been an occasion or two when I caught myself staring at her when she'd been in a bikini, or running around the house in cutoffs and tiny tees. And I guess on quite a few occasions, I had lifted up her skirt before I spanked her. She had always worn panties. I never considered that different from the bikinis I'd seen her in.

Could I actually fuck her? I shook my head and took another sip of beer. I'd never do that. Well, wait. The doctor told me to never say never. So I guess I should say, I wouldn't normally do that. So when would I do it?

I took another sip. When was the last time I had sex? I had a fling about five years back, not that Kara knew. Shit, had it been five years? I was 40 now, but god, five years sounded like forever. Kara would be so tight too.

Damn it. I finished the beer and got another before returning to the porch. The doc wanted me to spank her too? Why, so she could cum? I could just imagine it. She comes home, I spank her ass, then she runs off to her room like she always used to, and rams her fingers right into her small cunt, all while her red ass aches from the punishment I gave it.

I downed half the bottle in one long draft. "Fuck. Where is that kid?"

Before long, I gave up waiting for her. I went in and had another beer. By midnight, I'd had a few more. I turned off all the lights, but I wasn't going to bed, not until she came home. It reminded me of all the times I used to wait up for her, just so I could spank the hell out of her and send her to bed with a tongue-lashing.

The door was what woke me from my dozing. My head was still swimming. I glanced at the digital clock on the mantel: 3:00 a.m. I turned on the light. She gasped as she saw me.

"Daddy? You're up."

"Yes, I'm fucking up," I said, standing. I swayed on my feet. "Where the hell have you been?"

She lowered her eyes. "Stacy's house. I'm gonna go to bed."

She started to pass me but I grabbed her wrist. "I want to talk to you."

She kept her eyes down. "I don't wanna talk, Daddy. I'm humiliated. I shouldn't have told you all that. I feel so stupid. May I please go?"

I held her wrist tighter. "I don't want you out past midnight again."

She looked up at me for the first time. "What?"

"Never past midnight again. Do you understand me?"

"You told me I could set my own curfew."

"And now I'm telling you midnight," I said. "If you want to set your own curfew, move out."

She gulped. "Are you gonna punish me if I come home late?"

I snarled at her. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

She was chewing her lower lip while she looked up at me but didn't answer.

"Maybe I never spanked you hard enough. Maybe that's where I went wrong." I let go of her wrist. "Take off your pants."

"Huh?"

"Take off your fucking pants."

"Why?"

I advanced on her. "Do you want to disobey me, or do you want to do as you're told?"

She turned scarlet, but she dropped her eyes and reached for the button on her jeans. She opened them and unzipped the fly; then she stopped.

"Daddy, I'm embarrassed."

I was drunk and angry. I grabbed her, turned her around, and shoved her right over the arm of the sofa.

"Daddy!"

My hands found her the waist of the pants. She started struggling as I began yanking them down.

"Daddy, stop!"

"Why? This is what you want, isn't it?"

I reached up with one hand and grabbed her hair. The moment it was in my fist, she yelped and stopped struggling. I held her face down into the sofa cushion as my other hand pulled her pants awkwardly down her legs. Her shoes went flying as I ripped the jeans off at her feet. I looked down at her ass, covered by white cotton panties. They had little pink hearts decorating them. I glanced at my daughter. Her face was turned to the side as she watched.

"Daddy, what are you doing?"

My hand flew and swatted her behind. She cried out. She reached back and gripped her behind.

"Ow, that's too hard!"

I let go of her hair and grabbed her hand and put it under my knee as I knelt on the sofa. She was still struggling. I pinned her other hand behind her back. My free hand flew and I swatted hard. She let out a scream.

"Oh, fuck, Daddy, not so hard!"

"How did we used to do it?" I demanded, hitting her ass again and making her sing. "One swat for every half hour? Let's change that! How about one swat for every fifteen minutes? Three hours, that's 12!"

"No! No, please, Daddy, not so many!"

I hit her ass again, even harder, and she cried out. When I looked at her face, she was biting down on the fabric of the sofa cushion. My hand flew again and hit her ass, her flesh exploding into rosy red as she muffled a cry. Her eyes were getting glossy as I delivered another punishing spanking. I'd certainly never spanked her this hard before.

She struggled with each hit. Her legs kicked and began to spread open. There wasn't much room with the way she as strewn across the sofa, but with every slap of her ass, her legs parted a little more. I could see the mound of her cunt strained against the fabric of her panties. I could make out her pussy lips hugging the fabric. She was dripping wet. Her cunt looked like it was having a wet t-shirt contest. I shot her a look as I reached slap number nine.

"You still fucking like this, don't you?"

She unclamped her teeth from the sofa to look up at me. She shook her head guilty. My hand flew again, but this time I felt my fingertips slap her wet panties, right on top of her cunt. She cried out with a loud moan, a sound I'd never heard her make before.

"Fuck, Daddy. Ow, my fucking god."

She bit the edge of the sofa again and pinched her eyes shut.

I don't know what possessed me to slap her cunt like that. Maybe I told myself I was following doctor's orders. Maybe I blamed it on the booze. Maybe I just wanted to punish her, but I did it again. I slapped her cunt and she cried out with another moan of pleasure, whimpering as she looked at me. I think she was embarrassed as hell that she was making these sounds.

"Daddy."

I gave her cunt one more slap and she let out a guttural groan. She buried her whole face into the sofa. When I looked down, I noticed the wetness had increased. She was leaking everywhere, all over the sofa.

"You just fucking came, didn't you?" I said.

She didn't answer me, just kept her face down in the sofa. I stood up, letting her go, staring down at her red ass, her panties jammed in her crack, her thighs soaked, a wet spot on my white sofa. She kept her face hidden as she panted. She wasn't standing up.

"Go to bed."

She didn't move.

"Kara, go to bed now."

She sat up slowly, keeping her head hung. "Yes, Daddy."

She walked with a limp but didn't raise her eyes as she disappeared down the hall. Me, I stared at that spot on my sofa. Now that my adrenaline was dissipating, I was aware of an uncomfortable throbbing in my pants. I knew I was getting hard when I was spanking her, but I tried to ignore it. There was no ignoring it now. I sat down heavily on the other side of the sofa, trying to tug at my jeans to give my cock some extra room. I glanced at the wet spot again. Had I gone too far?

I heard my daughter's door click shut and I knew I was alone. I rested my hand in the wet spot, letting my fingers graze over it. Then I brought my fingertips to my face and smelled. God, the smell of pussy. It was intoxicating. My cock throbbed. If it wasn't hard before, it was now.

"Fuck."

I headed down the hallway, slowing beside my daughter's door. I held my breath and listened. Quiet whimpers and moans were coming from inside. God damn it, to know I could go in there and fuck her right now was a horrible burden of knowledge. A father shouldn't have to make the decision to fuck his daughter or not. I went into my room and lay down. I tossed and turned all night.

I beat my alarm clock to death the next morning. I was out of bed and berating myself. I was definitely blaming everything on the beer now. I had to speak to my daughter before she ran off. I expected to find her in the kitchen. She wasn't there. Her car was still out front. I returned to the hall and found her bedroom door closed. It was well after 9:00 a.m. She never slept this late anymore.

I could have knocked, but I didn't want to. Maybe it was all the revelations she had shared in therapy, but I felt as though there was no reason to mind her personal space. She sure as hell didn't mind mine. I opened her door and strolled right in.

What I found when I entered was stunning. She was covered by just a sheet, which draped across her thighs and chest. I could see her bare feet and calves, as well as her shoulders, and the hint of her breasts. The outline of her nipples was easy to see against the sheet. It would take nothing to pull it off her and just take her in... and fuck her if I wanted to.

On her nightstand was a purple vibrator, and on the bed was what really took me: family photos, mostly of me at the beach, wearing trunks. I came closer, moving the photos around so I could see the ones underneath. It was practically a time capsule. I was reminded of the times when Kara wanted to take pictures of me at the beach. It used to annoy me. I knew anytime I took her there, she would invariably take out her camera and start snapping shots. I used to think she was a budding photographer, except she never showed much interest in taking pictures of anything other than me.

I gathered them up, every one of them, putting them in a big pile and then I nudged her shoulder. "Hey. Wake up."

"Mm?" she mumbled, her eyes still closed. She started to roll over and the sheet didn't follow. I could see her bare thighs, almost right up to her pussy. I grabbed the edge of the sheet and pulled it along, covering her as the sheet gave up more skin.

"Daddy?" she said, opening her eyes. She smiled. "Mmm, I could get used to waking up to you."

I held up the stack of photos, and then I smacked the dildo off the table. "What the fuck is this?"

She gulped, suddenly realizing the vulnerable position she was in. She grabbed the sheet and held it to her chest as she sat up. "Um, um..."

I picked up the dildo. I could feel the film of dried pussy juice on it. "You look at these photos and shove this dildo up your cunt, don't you?"

She looked away but didn't respond.

"I asked you a question."

"Yes," she whispered.

"Look at me when you answer me."

She looked at me, but her cheeks were blazing red. "Yes," she repeated.

"I thought you couldn't cum."

She nibbled on her lip but didn't break eye contact. "Just cause I can't cum doesn't mean I don't like how it feels, and last night I did cum, a lot."

"How many times?"

"Um, five."

"Fuck. How long have you been using these pictures?"

"I don't know. Since I started. Years."

"How long have you had the dildo?"

"Just a few months. Dr. Pearson recommended it."

"It didn't work?"

"It finally worked last night."

I shook my head at her. "You don't sound at all ashamed."

"Well, I mean, I am. You don't normally come into my room. It's not like I wanted you to know about this." She stared at me and I stared back without a word "Why are you looking at me like that? What are you thinking?"

I tossed the dildo on the bed but held up the pictures. "You keep the dildo. I'll keep these."

"What? No!"

I glared at her. "Excuse me?"

"I mean, please, Daddy, I need those."

"I don't want you getting off to pictures of me."

"But they're my pictures!"

"Get dressed. We have a lot to talk about."

I left the room, went into my bedroom, and put the stack of pictures in my underwear drawer. In the kitchen, I put on some coffee and made some toast. Kara came out a few minutes later, dressed in cut-offs and a tank top. I could see the straps of her bra over her shoulders. Fuck, she was a sexy girl. Why did she have to show so much skin?

"Coffee?" I said.

"I'm really angry at you right now," she said.

I turned around. "Excuse me?"

"I want my pictures back."

I shook my head and poured two mugs of coffee and put out the toast. I took my seat but she was still standing.

"Sit down," I said.

She remained standing.

I looked up at her. "Unless you want me to give you another reason to cum, I suggest you sit your sore little ass down, or you will reach a point where it hurts to be on your back."

She gulped and sat down. "Yes, Daddy."

"First off," I said, taking a sip of coffee, "I want to go through everything you said in that therapy office."

"What do you mean?"

"I want to know why being spanked makes you cum."

"I don't know. It's how I'm wired, I guess. The pain and the pleasure push me over the edge."

"And you still want to have sex with me?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"Would you do anything I told you to?"

She licked her lips. "Yes."

"So you'd suck my cock?" I wasn't sure why I was asking this. Maybe I just wanted to put it into perspective. Maybe I liked thinking about it.

"Definitely," she said, her eyes looking excited.

"What if I told you to do it right now?"

She took a deep breath. "Yes, Daddy. I'm ready."