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all for her f a t h e r. [ father figure x banks ]

hernameisbanks

hernameisbanks

Star
Joined
Mar 2, 2015
Night's like these were when the perfect opportunities were made.

Risks were taken on Friday nights, and she was stirring over taking a big one. No, actually she wasn't stirring, she was in the process, making plans and taking big actions. The party had been fun, but now things were being played with time, grinning softly as she pulled at the belt around the male's waist. " Is your- dad home? " She wasn't going to give him time to breathe, the lusty young thing was taking every breath he had because this was important, time was important. This was just another trigger for her father and this poor teen bag of hormones didn't even know. The girl had motives, picked him out like he was some sort of toy in a store, a pawn to play with, to push the waves into motion. Sitting in the driveway of her gorgeous home, provided by her father for the two of them to live in, lavishly, the man provided everything he could for her. For them, but probably for her. She knew he loved his baby girl, but there were things that she needed to take into her own hands. The black Nissan Altima belonged to the seventeen year old boy, shifting his pants down and moving quickly as she murmured, " Don't ruin it, he's at work. "


Whether he was pulling a late shift and about to come home, or already there, she couldn't tell. She wasn't worried. No, sadistically this was what she wanted. Loose brown curls moving over his face as her lips moved to his again, her petite hand began shifting against the teenager's erect length, his bulge almost quivering with want in her hands. Moving her head down, the female found her naturally pouting lips engulfing him, warmly taking the length into her mouth without any struggle, her body had moved to sitting on her knees, bent across the arm rest. Her black heels in the bottom of the passenger floorboard next to the black lace of her thong, her black dress was hiked up just slightly, the young man's hand having easily found its way to her firm rear, middle and index finger sneaking its way against her wet slit. Oh no, this act and this show wasn't at all for the satisfaction of the heavy breathing teenage boy. No, little Ava Martin was putting on this show just in case her father pulled into the driveway or perhaps for him to get out of bed and peer down into the driveway.

Was she asking to get grounded, punished and yelled at? No, Ava's plans were bigger, and had been for quite some time, calculated and casually played out with the occasional fling here or there. She had let her father catch her on a handful of occasions, let him scold her and watched the huff build up within him because she knew he was wanting, anxious, but he couldn't! Ava was his daughter, the shining light in his life he had raised without her mother in the picture. But there were things that her father was holding back from her, things she wanted. Her head had begun bobbing, the soft sucking noise starting to drive the young man wild, damn near to his point as his opposite hand gripped her hair, the other allowing his middle and ring fingers to plunge into her. All for her daddy.
 
Sometimes a Father was burdened in life by the choices of those they created. It was an old adage that a person's sins, their complications, their own problems in childhood would be visited on them in the flesh in the form of their child. There was no difference for this man, a man who in his youth had led a life a bit more than awry. He had lied and cajoled, cheated and stolen, broken the law and paid for it. He had been addicted to the flesh, had pushed the boundaries, and because of those choices had even spent a bit of time in jail...unbeknownst to his beautiful young daughter. Yet he had moved past all of that, becoming a professional and a teacher at the University setting. A job which had him working late nights, leaving him tired, but leaving him satisfied.

Satisfied that he had become something better in life.

Yet all those sins seemed to be recreated in Ava. When she had been young he thought he had reached out to her, provided her some stability, shown her that he could be a loving man and Father. As she had gotten older things had grown steadily darker for them both. Puberty had turned her into a beauty, had turned her into more than that...art given life, a statuesque little Goddess that was frightening to behold. It had twisted inside of him like a knife, tastes long forgotten seeming to rise within the corners of his mind as he saw her slinking about the house. It had ignited a fire in him that he tried to still, always turning his face away, always ignoring the clothing she chose to wear...always trying his best not to think of her as he orgasmed late at night in the shower.

Always finding her face in his dreams.

It had him resenting her, just the tiniest of bits. Resenting her for her actions, for her attempts at gaining his attention. He was an intelligent man, brilliant some would have said, and it was easy to see her ham handed attempts at manipulation. Easy to grasp that she was trying her damnedest to get his attention, to scream out for him to please just show her...something. She wanted to bring out that side of him he was keeping hidden, some part of her recognizing in him that her Father was...twisted. Perhaps just as twisted as she was...

...Perhaps even more so.

So now he returned home, returned home to find a stranger's car parked in the driveway. To see the motions of a head bobbing within, and he pulled in behind them...blocking any chance of escape. The headlights caught the motions within as he stepped out, his large hand gripping the edge of his door, and for once there was something more in his features. Was it hurt? Was it hate? A mingling of the two? Whatever it was it stirred as he began to approach the driver's side, lightly rapping on the window as if everything was...perfectly fine.

That was her Father...most dangerous when he was being reserved.
 
It was a common thing, tested in one's every day life. How far could someone be pushed until they snapped. Until they couldn't take whatever it was they were going through and they just lost it. She hadn't bothered to keep count, but she could swear there were once hopeful twinkles in her father's eyes that were no longer there. She had pushed, and pushed, and would continue to do so until something else replaced that hope. And she knew it was there, oh sweet little Ava knew. She liked to think she knew her father better than anyone, better than his students or any woman who had tried to intervene in their lives. She knew even when he tried not to, his eyes were watching those curves of hers, sway away from him. Away but still within his grasp. All he had to do was reach, reach out and grab his little girl and take her for what she had become. Not necessarily his fault, but certainly the seed of his mind. Where her father was a genius, Ava was clever, witty, and downright charming.

Able to quickly snap back and react without hesitation, one would think it was due to youthful rebellion. This was more than rebellion. This was a hunger, a great growing need that left her body begging even after situations like these where one would normally be satisfied. Ava wouldn't be satisfied until she won, until she made him snap. That would be the day. Maybe it would happen sooner than she believed. No matter, her focus wasn't even on the rhythm of her head bobbing, another potentially false moan slipping around his shaft, she could just about feel him reach his point. Six minutes, going into seven. Weak. The headlights caught her vision, unbeknownst to the teen boy because he was too busy seeding himself into her mouth, the salty taste pooling around her tongue. Perfect timing.

Even more so when she heard the soft tap against the barely tinted window, watching as Ethan nearly jumped out of his skin and began to shuffle. Raising her head lightly, the pretty girl let her eyes make contact with her father just in time for him to catch the glimmer in her eyes, the soft lick of her lips, and the second it took to swallow. Whatever little angel he had raised had disappeared, leaning back into her seat now with a calm that did nothing but make dear Ethan want to die right in the driver's seat. It was fear that kept him in his seat, but had also driven him to pull up his pants in fast gusts of " Holy shit. "

It was then the brunette moved, opening the passenger side door and standing, shoes in one hand and bag in the other. " You're home early. " Not an apology, her airy voice spoke over the hood, sexually disheveled curls swaying slightly with the wind, she could have sworn she heard Ethan have a heart attack in the seat.

 
Her Father was very much uncaring of the man inside of the car. He merely stood there, his lips pressing together as his eyes pooled, lambent in the darkness behind his glasses. It was as if they looked the entire role of the predator at that moment, something inhuman in them as he experienced the first true pangs of jealousy. The first pulls of something that should never be inside of his mind. Finally though he broke his look upon her and he gazed down at....Ethan. He did not know who the boy was, he hardly cared, and his words next were chilling in their consequences.

"I want you to leave. I will have your car towed. If you bother me again, if I see you again, I will accuse you of raping my fragile flower of a daughter. Now get moving."

He stepped just slightly to the side to allow for the boy to leave, his eyes staring at Ava and he frowned, his teeth coming to grit together. She was getting a kick out of this, she was enjoying it, and that was the situation that was going to be the death knell of them both. Her wish to push him might have finally had it's fruition this evening, as he moved towards her, walking around the car with a stride that was strong and sure. It was the stride of a man on a mission, a mission to ensure his daughter understood that he would in no way brook any further behavior of this sort.

Maybe he was lying to himself though. Maybe he did not know the true reason for what he was doing. He felt the horror of what she had done, understanding what he had seen, her head bobbing up and down in that seat. He had seen the final moment, had seen the way the young boy looked, he knew what it signified, he knew deep down what it meant. His little daughter, his beautiful angel, had just made a man cum in her mouth...in her fucking mouth, and she had done it for his attention.

And he found it strangely arousing.

His voice almost seemed feral, a snarl upon his handsome face. "Damn you," he nearly spit out, his hand coming to grip her arm to jerk her tightly against him. His body easily overpowered, he had no need to show off his strength, but in his anger he did not quite control those muscles...easily pulling her off balance to bring her up tight against his larger frame. His eyes stared down into hers as he continued his words, his voice hammering it home. "Damn you for acting the floozy, damn you for doing this at my home...at our home. How could you? How could you disrespect me so?"
 
Much like a father, his first lines of chilled anger were toward Ethan. There wasn't a simple strand of emotion for the brunette, not at all worried about how the poor boy was about to damn near kill himself from the level of stress he was under. Why should she care. It wasn't any of her concern what happened to him or his car, or anything involving Ethan. He was a pawn, and she had played him so well in her own driveway, that this woman seemed to have empathy for the male breathing hard in his mixture of confusion. He couldn't have some angry father pressing rape charges on him, when his innocent little flower had made his cock disappear down her throat. Whatever made this man that delusional, he didn't care enough to find out about, and as soon as the go ahead was given, he was out of his car and down the driveway in record time. His daughter only let her eyes move just slightly, watching the frustrated male move down to the sidewalk before letting her eyes flicker back to her father. What was the punishment this time? Was she grounded?

Banned from something she didn't care about? Sure, whatever. He would scold her the way he always did, tell her never to do it again and she'd spin out of it with a lie as curled as her hair. There were great lengths his little girl would go through for him to see her, pay attention, notice what she was calling out to him for, notice the delicious look in her eyes of sitting up from giving some teenage idiot a blowjob. So bold, so brash of her that the girl was sure enough in what she was doing, but not in the consequences. She knew not of what her father would do, only guessing the capabilities and strengths the usually calm man possessed. Ava would push every button until she got what she wanted, watching him advance toward her with fire in his eyes. Was it rage? For what she had done? Probably, rage that she had yet to narrow down how to channel to what she wanted from him. Easily, Ava saw herself as everything for her daddy dearest.

His little goddess was everything he needed and more. She was sure of it. Ava just had to make sure he knew. The girl's dress still hiked up just slightly, she hadn't bothered to adjust it, wincing softly when his hand gripped her forcefully, pulling her forward with aggression in his eyes, anger. He was furious, the way any father would be. Barefoot and standing only at five two, if she had planned on slinking away, it was definitely too late. Her brown eyes looked full of something, whether it be fear or excitement, one couldn't necessarily tell as he cursed at her, young curves pressing against his body. Did he want an answer? The real one? The answer that meant blatantly telling him she was his, and boys her age didn't matter. Didn't have anything she wanted. " Daddy, " The pause seemed genuine enough, not breaking her eyes away from his, " I don't mean to. "

 
Didn't mean to. He somehow did not feel those words rang true in any sense of the phrase. His eyes were sharp, taking in everything about her at that moment, and it was then he realized the truth of what was going on. He felt it, that energy thrumming between the two of them, pounding in his head and he realized it was everything a person responded to when attracted. Hormones, body language, voice...his little daughter was screaming out that she wanted him, that she wanted his attention, that she needed it. It caused his eyes to widen the tiniest of bits as he looked down at her and he slowly shivered, a swift spike up his spine of hyperalertness.

He glanced up as he saw Ethan scurrying away from them both and down the street. The young man had left his car, after all what choice did he have? Surely he must have felt a bit uncertain about how in the world he could have been in trouble, but the Father was not necessarily worried about such things. A man in today's world understood, or would quickly learn, that a woman's word trumped his. If Ava had said she'd been the victim at the hands of a terrible man...then the police were going to listen very intently to what she had to say.

His hand tightened a tiny bit more upon her as he turned to look back down at her and he inhaled just slightly, feeling so terribly powerful as he studied her. She was so small, so like her Mother, and he towered over her at his six feet height. He could see her ruffled dress, the way it conformed to her skin. He could see the sheen of seed upon her lips, the memory of how she had licked her lips rampaging through his mind. The feel of her beautiful body, aching, pressing molding to him. It caused his shoulders to bunch just the tiniest bit, muscles of that bull like frame tightening.

Finally he asked, it finally came out. It was something that had been coming to the fore for quite some time. It was something that needed to be said as they stood there..."What is wrong with you, Ava, what is wrong? I did not raise you to do this, did not raise a daughter who would....," he frowned, almost not saying it but then the words spilled free. "...who would want her Father jealous, who would want him to look at her like you want me to look at you. It's a sickness, it's sick."

His voice almost trembled at the end, not needing to share the obvious fact that if it was a sickness, it was one he shared in.
 
In truth, she didn't mean to make her well respected father so high strung and angry, so teetering on the point of snapping, and reacting so disrespectfully because she wanted attention. She didn't mean to act this way upon her cravings, her personal desires, and by all means she wasn't out to hurt him and just ruin him. She just wanted him to pay close attention. She wanted her brilliant father to use his brilliant mind and pay attention to the obvious. Here she was, right in front of him and all he had to do was reach out and take it, take her. He was avoiding what it was, what she wanted, and a part of his dear, sweet little girl did not like that. It made the heat raise into her cheeks, a flurry of thoughts rushing through her mind. Here she was in his hands, in his arms, and he was still resisting, still stumbling over his thoughts like this was some quizzical fucking book.

Her fist clenched, pressing into his chest just slightly in a faint act to push him away from her, looking down and over the faint wrinkles in his white shirt. Her father's smell was familiar, books and whatever traces of cologne he placed on himself that morning. It was one of her favorite scents, her favorite memories of her father when she was near and things weren't as tense as they were. On occasion when he was at work, she found herself warmly nestled in his bed, taking in the comfort of who slept there without him actually being there. And maybe she was sick for that, out of her pretty little mind, to think getting whatever she wanted really could be taken this far. Was it something in her that triggered her admiration for him, for it to become so much more than the simple love and affection that a father and his daughter would normally share? Well, to be clear, she still loved her daddy. But what he would not do is make her out to be some sick, twisted teenager.

Again came another push, this one firmer as her eyes pooled, narrowing with anger once Ava began to shake her head. " I'm not sick daddy. I'm not some fucking headcase, " She was neither of those things, clear minded and well aware, aware of making him jealous and making his skin crawl and making him want to wring her up by her neck, " Don't pretend it's just me daddy. I see how you look at me, I know you think about me. I'm not a little girl anymore, " Again, another push into his chest, eyes growing wide despite rimming with tears, " I know you want me too. " There it was again, his stubborn little Ava showing no signs of slowing this speeding train, her body growing hot against his.

" So take me daddy. "
 
Take her? How could he ever even harbor such a thought in his mind? It was the most truly depraved of concepts, the most truly twisted of thoughts, and yet it was one that he'd had late at night when she was asleep in bed. One which had kept him up and troubled him, his own eyes searching the dark in order to find some meaning, some understand of what was happening to him. Take her, she said, and he found himself thrilling to the idea of it. He could feel her warm flesh burning through their clothing, heated as he gazed at her flushed cheeks, and his resistance began to crumble. The onslaught of sensations enough to tear down a weaker man. He wanted to resist her, he knew the truth even if she was denying it.

It was a sickness, no matter what she thought.

His free hand moved, reaching up to grip her chin to hold her there as he leaned close, searching those eyes so close to brimming over with her beautiful tears. He could not express how arousing that was, the emotion that stirred inside of his little daughter. To think that she had such feelings, to think that she could reach out to him like this and put herself on the line. For him....for him. That was the true thrill that permeated his entire being, that caused his teeth to clench and his lips to press together, almost snarling at that particular moment. It was the idea, the very idea that she would go this far just for his attention. That she would offer herself up like some banquet for him to partake of.

It made him feel divine.

Leaning close he kissed one of her cheek softly, inhaling the scent of her. There was only the two of them, no matter what was occurring in the world around them, for him at that moment there was only the two of them. His shoulders tightened once more, she was right in how she made him feel, how she drove him near the brink of madness. Take her she had said, and he tried to speak, tried to say something at that moment to deny how he felt. To deny himself...yet he could not, he could deny this no easier than he could deny breathing. He had to have it...and suddenly he kissed her. He kissed her hard, the hand on her chin sliding to cup her throat as he did so. It was bruising, vicious how he laid claim in that one brush of his lips...tasting his little girl's mouth for the first time as a man truly should.

As a Father never should.
 
Whether she would ever come to terms with it or not, there would be nothing said to anyone. She wouldn't announce it to anyone that maybe it was a sickness, to want the love and affection from her father in ways that no one else could understand. No one other than the two of them. There was no need for her to explain what she wanted, no need to tell him that these needs of hers were selfish, uncaring of any damages made. Uncaring of any boundaries pushed, she wanted her father's hands all over her, grabbing and groping at his little girl because even if she wanted it, she was willing to give him every piece of her she could. Take me was exactly that. She was his, for as long as he wanted her. And she knew, pretty little Ava knew, that her father would want his little princess for a long, long time.

Warm eyes filled with tears as she stared up at him, Ava could almost swear she saw his mind ticking, calculating what he was doing. The mess she had created and whether or not he would be a part of it. He would, he had to be, and in some sense he already was. He had raised this little monster of his, this beautiful creature that sat in his grasp with a body begging to be used, not just by anyone but him alone. Teenage boys could do nothing for her when she knew the ultimate prize sat so near, so close to being pushed off the edge. And here he was, one foot waving off that very edge, closing her eyes softly when he kissed her cheek, only to find the first stream of tears escaping.

Whether they were joyous or not, it didn't matter, inhaling softly only to find that his lips moved as did his hand, the action catching her by slight surprise. Half lidded eyes stared up at him just in time for his lips to angrily press into her own, skin feeling hot and her eyes shutting again, the faintest movement of her lips working back against his. Daddy.
 
She was crying, and surely he cared about that did he not? Surely he loved her and would show her compassion...and the answer was a resounding yes, yes he loved her, yes he would show her compassion. Even as his hands moved to fully cup her bottom, hiking that skirt up completely in the middle of the night, holding her there against him as he felt her whisper against his lips...he began kissing her, not on the mouth any longer...but on her cheeks, beneath her eyes. He kissed away those tears, taking his time in doing so, making soft sounds of solace and love. It was completely opposite of the motions of the rest of his body, the feelings of a Father in contrast with the terrible lusts of a man. He tasted his beautiful daughter's tears and grew perhaps even more pleased with this moment between them as the fingers on her young rear tightened and he whispered.

He wanted her so terribly it hurt.

Yet perhaps there on the street was not necessarily the place to do such things. No, there was no perhaps about it. His young girl might have screamed for attention while slurping a young man in his carport, but they had neighbors and there was most definitely legality issues concerning a Father being with his daughter. At this stage he doubted he would be charged, yet they both could feel he would go much further once he had her alone. He did not need to say that, they both knew that they had somehow crossed a threshold that there was no coming back from. Amongst some people it was a matter of being a psychic in a way, of connecting and grasping the undercurrents of each other's needs.

He could feel that with his beautiful daughter. His tongue moved out, touching his lips just slightly as he looked down at her, feeling the mingled tastes. He could taste the saltiness of the young man who had come before him, he could taste her spit...her lovely mouth, and he could taste the sweetness of her tears on that tongue. Mingled tastes like the mingled emotions in his fucking dark soul. It came up into his eyes at that moment as he took her hand, knowing that they were going to embark on something terrible together and he whispered very softly as he began walking her inside of the house.

"I love you."
 
Though it would appear as though the count of young men on her list was at least a handful, the brunette could easily come up with reasons, deduce the ways and the whys for each. All were for her father, all had never truly mattered. Her interest wasn't in boys, as she quickly discovered, but one man in particular. Not any other man, but daddy. There was a surprise, a pleasant warmth that his kisses weren't feverish and quick, but gentle in the way that only someone who loved her could give them, with caress and love behind each. All the while his hands brought her body closer, held her tighter by the firm flesh of her rear, it was a soft reminder that her father was indeed a man. He was a man no matter his soft kisses or the way he held her, and that alone made her want to shiver with want in his grasp. He was right, it didn't need to be shared that they had crossed such a line, Ava immediately deciding that this wait already appeared to be worth it. The time and effort put in, worth every second of dealing with some unimpressive teenage boy that she couldn't care less about. It almost made her want to smile a small, satisfactory sort of smile, but she knew better, knew about the oncoming storm she was erupting up from her father and knew exactly what trouble she had begun, what volcano she was toying with.

Momentarily amazed as her half lidded eyes found themselves open again, vision regained from the blur as she looked up at him, Ava watched the changes of expression venture across his eyes, his face showing different signs of life. Different signs as he fought back any regret he could have prior, for they both knew once the next steps were taken, there would be no regret or going back. But would they want to? No, Ava had long since told herself that this was good for her father, he needed it just as much as she did, and the risk was only slight depending upon things like this taking place in the night in the driveway. But, of course her father knew he couldn't just have his hands all over his little girl in the driveway, no matter what time of night it was, the shift in his body away from hers gaining a soft breath of air, almost feeling as though that was the first as her hand was grasped and pulled. The hint taken, Ava moved quietly behind him, eyes venturing downward for a moment before she heard those very important words. There were no tears this time around, though a soft smile fell over her lips, a gentle squeeze to her father's hand before speaking in an equally delicate tone, " I love you too. "
 
Yes there was love between the two of them, but there was something more. Something darker and broken that was finally being given life. Where his daughter had flaunted her desires, where she had placed them up for him to view, he himself had kept them hidden...kept them shoved down into the abyss that was his soul. He liked to think he was a good man, but he had secrets as his daughter very well suspected. Secrets which had led him to explore aspects of sexuality so few ever dared delve into them. It had brought him to the brink mentally at times, wondering if there was something terribly wrong with him, and the horrible truth was....there was. There was something utterly defiled about the man who walked with her into that house, walked out of the night and into the large entry hall. Something monstrous about the man who called herself her Father, who gripped her by the hair and took control of her in a moment that was terrifying for them both.

Terrifying, but utterly beautiful.

He took that gorgeous hair of hers, the hair that had lain across that young man's lap and kept him from admiring the full measure of his girl's beautiful face as she sucked upon his flesh. The hair which her Father had traced his fingers through in time's when she had needed his affection and adoration. The hair which now drove him maddened with desire...he took it and led her into the nearby dining room, the lights still darkened, and he forced his girl to bend over the table. Forced her over as his other hand rather unceremoniously jerked her dress up, hiking it completely over her waist, baring that amazing young backside to his full view. Though at this point, at his point he was not necessarily looking...oh, given time he would admire her, given time he would show her approval for how beautiful she was, but now...now was a moment of retribution.

Retribution. Such a beautiful word. He felt it in his heart, his utter need to make her pay.

Why he was making her pay might be even more of a mystery to him than the actual reasons. Because of the boy in the driveway? Because of the men who might have touched her already? Because she had driven him to this? None of that mattered as his hand came down viciously hard upon her right cheek, slapping and then gripping the flesh cruelly....he held her there, as if he needed this to feel like what was occurring was real. Everything felt so dreamlike, the heady wash of hormones nearly overwhelming the older man. Drunk off his lust. Again his hand came down, showing an expertise at how he applied his force...not some random blow, but a man who knew how to spank a good ass....her Father understood what he was doing, and his voice spoke then...slick with need.

"What is it you truly fucking want? Tell me....tell Daddy."
 
There were so many things that could happen here, right now as soon as they crossed the threshold into the house, the door closed behind her as though that were one more thing sealing the time between them. One more thing starting the night for them as the dark house only held whatever faint light the moon offered outside. It was almost like a ceremony of sorts when he grabbed her hair, wincing only softly as a small click in her mind reminded her that her father knew what he was doing. He had done this before, grabbing a fistful of her curls but also holding on to the base, the root to pull her along as he had probably done such a thing numerous times. Ava knew that her father was well trained, well practiced, and she wanted him to break her in, to train her to be not just any good girl, but his good girl. There was every bit of her that wanted to be his, and not a bit of her complained when he grabbed her hair so harshly. She didn't need lights when she was being pulled along, her shoes set near the door in a soft thud only to feel her body immediately pushed down against the wooden table.

Her palms went flat, and a soft breath of air pushed against the table, cheek against it now as she felt the pressure in his hand to hold her down. Punishment. You couldn't have what you wanted without a little bit of punishment, almost expecting nothing less from her father, Ava feeling the cool air conditioning snake up her legs and over her bare rear. She could almost feel that she was still wet, whether it be from the fingers once in her or the drive of her father soaring through her body, the balls of her feet up just slightly as she stood on them, the angle leaving her off the flat of her feet. There was nothing about this punishment that made her upset, made her want to fight and scream, to get away from her father because Ava knew she had been bad, knew she deserved whatever hard spanks her father gave her. Though she wondered the same, why exactly was she being punished. Was it because he had caught a boy both knuckle deep and balls deep in her mouth? Was it because she did it knowing he would be home soon, knowing he could just so easily have reacted so much worse? He could have broken out a window, strangled that boy, and definitely made sure he'd certainly never come back. But then-

" Ah! "

His hand came down sharp, silently in the dark of the home but cracked hard against her firm rear, closing her eyes now as her body cringed softly. The sting through her body made her well aware that her rear would be red in no time, if it wasn't already, the second spank causing her knees to bend slightly inward, another soft squeak of noise escaping. It was painful, no way around it. But there was something in the pain, something that surprisingly made her firm rear raise up just slightly, subconsciously. Her palms no longer flat, fingertips beginning to curl inward now, the young woman found herself murmuring, speaking back to what her father wanted to know. " Ah- I want to be yours daddy. Yours. "

 
How she responded was far from anything fabricated. How she moved her little form was far from some played up drama meant to please him. No, it was so natural for her that it screamed out to him. Screamed out to him that she needed to be taken, to be used, to be owned. That was the problem between the two of them, the true underlying current, and really why he wanted to punish his little daughter. It came to him in that clarity of thought, the heady feel and rush of endorphins bringing about the true understanding how why he was doing this. He was punishing her for making him want her. He was punishing her not because of the actions she had taken, not because she had shared her flesh, but because she was offering it...because she was offering him the right to claim her in that most ancient of ways that screamed to a man to take what was his. His jaw tightened at the thought, his chest heaving into a deep breath as his teeth clamped together once more and that rough voice answered her words.

"Never again."

What those words meant was not immediately apparent. Could he be referencing that he would never do this again, never touch her in this fashion? Perhaps that was the case and yet he did not seem to hesitate any longer as he held her down. His young girl's ass was pure perfection, the curve of it falling into his hand as if it was meant to be there. He could have spent eternity holding onto that soft flesh, but that was not the moment upon them. This was not something that would be drawn out, this was not something that could be held back. For now they were in this rush of emotion, this powerful current sweeping them up, and she wanted to be claimed...to be taken....well very well. That is exactly what he would do. Both hands came down, slapping that sweet backside...gripping to spread her and he did the unthinkable, something no Father would ever do.

One hand removed itself to undo his pants, one hand fishing free that thick flesh she knew was there. She had seen him on occasion, what family did not have those moment of impropriety. She had seen him and the monster cock that her father sported. Nine inches, circumsized, and so very thick his own hand could barely wrap the shaft. He looked down at her there, trembling, ready for him and arching upwards and he mounted his young woman. Mounted her and took her, a hard vicious thrust. There was no ceremony, no fanfare, nothing gentle. Instead he impaled her, mounting her like an animal, visceral and cruel. He pressed forward in the hard rush of his hips, his body aching as he gave a low growl, continuing his words from before.

"Never...fucking never again...will another man have you."
 
At no point did her young mind ever assume that her father would bring her to this point just to drop her down without so much as an explanation. As if he owed her one, for bending her over this lovely dining room table and laying such hard blows into her soft skin. There was little caress behind it, no gentle touch there, and it didn't seem to phase her that he could very easily be doing this again out of anger. Again, punishment. But it was worth it, there would be no denying that his little Ava knew not of what she was completely getting herself into. It didn't matter. He was her father, and whatever he was willing to give his little girl, she would take it lovingly, graciously. Maybe she was in fact sick, willing to take the bruising that caused her skin to burn, willing to ignore any feeling of pain from her hair being pulled, it was all worth it. After all, she had begged for this when she had never begged a man for anything. It was simple, in an odd way it dealt with her morals.

Morals. Huh.

Everything about her body felt hot, no matter that she was nearly nude on the slick wood, thighs in the cool air of the house, it almost seemed as though that would help the sting of her father's vicious blows. It didn't. No, a part of her wanted to feel that pain, wanted to feel the searing sensation of what she had made him do, what she had forced him to. There was nothing sweet, or tender here, and Ava was not upset by it, not upset he wasn't holding her but instead holding her down, not caressing after each blow he left but instead digging his nails into her rear after each grip. Eyes closed and wincing from the latest spank, something different behind it when he moved to spread the supple flesh that she knew was now painted red, it was what she heard next that made her want to spread her legs. Something in her remained stiff however, keeping her knees from separating and spreading, he would do that for her when he stepped in closer, lips parting when she felt the thick member touch her skin.

The straps of her dress at her shoulders, her heavy bust pressed against the table until her fingers curled into her palm, the unexpected thrust into her welcomed though causing her young body to writhe. It caused her to shift, pushing up slightly and her back to arch, head to raise and her eyes to open, unable to be seen but filled with absolute lust. " Fuck. " Absolutely, and without a doubt, her father was perfect. Her father was everything and more that the young girl had waited for, and her body reacted willingly, with her back arched it left her rear up and eager, matching the rest of her body. She loved her daddy. Ava could feel her inner walls gripping him, sucking on him and coating him with the juices of her young, tight folds, turning her head slightly and looking over her shoulder with that look in her eyes. Whether it was satisfaction or greed, or absolute pleasure, Ava repeated gently, " Never again Daddy. " Never again would she let another man have her in such a way. No, she was his.
 
He punish fucked her.

There was no other way to describe what he was doing to her, no other definition for what was happening. Oh, there was always the way a man bragged about how he took a woman, always the way a man showed off his prowess by claiming he'd annihilated the holes of his current conquest. So many men bragged, so many men lied, so many men were full of bullshit. Not this man, not her father. He power fucked her as if he was trying to prove a point....and the truth was he was proving a point, he was going the distance, in a way those younger men never could. He wanted to orgasm, what man would not with her tight flesh wrapped so wonderfully around his shaft? Yet he refused, he blatantly denied his need, his ass tightening to stop himself from spilling into her. It was a mental exercise for him, a pure measure of domination that would show his little girl that he was more than just dominating her...

...He was dominating himself.

His hips moved in swift strokes, brutal in the intensity of the thrust that hilted him inside of her. Her slick lubrication provided the ease of his motion, that cock nearly slipping free in every backstroke before he brought it home within her again. It was pinpoint cruelty, the motion turning his prick into a weapon, trying to illicit not just pleasure but suffering out of her. That was the true goal, suffering brought about by a cock burrowing into her with the fury of every muscle he could bring to bear in the forward blow. His hands moved as he continued that vicious fucking, sliding up to her hips, further up to slip across her beautiful heaving breasts, and as she looked back at him, as she gazed into his features...those strong hands continued their progress, finally wrapping around her beautiful young throat.

It was never again for her as well, she said the words, but it was a more visceral truth than even she would understand. He intended to ruin her, he intended to ruin her for other men, no man would ever give her the fucking she deserved...no matter if she opened her legs for them or not. Those eyes, her Father's eyes, they seemed to burn in the darkness as he watched her and then he spoke, words that were most definitely not that of a caring parent...but that of an owner, that of a dominator.

"You better work out a fucking cum, Ava...come on, cum on that cock...get your hand down there and do it for me...I want to feel your cunt as you...cum." His features were feral as he kept his gaze locked on hers, his hands slowly beginning to cut off her air, expertly letting her suck in oxygen while providing that heady rush of being deprived.
 
The sensation of his heavy hands around her throat made her body want to melt in his arms. There was something in this embrace, this grasp completely different than any her father had ever gifted her with. There was nothing sweet and affectionate, it was simply him finding her neck and gripping it, so expertly that again she knew her father was no ordinary older man. No her father was no ordinary man, as no ordinary man could make her body crave him while making her feel weak, driving her body closer and closer to her breaking point. But she knew he wouldn't let her go. Ava knew he was going to make sure she most definitely never again thought of another man in this light, never have another touch her the way her father did, and damn sure never have another inside of her. God no, her father was going to make sure of that, and oddly, she loved him for it. Ava loved him for each time his hips thrust forward, sliding in rapidly and viciously without a sign of stopping until he was nestled deeply inside her, causing her legs to quiver with desire.

Still standing on the balls of her feet, her mess of hair moved over her back, grazing over her hips and bouncing each time he showed her just how much he loved her. It was punishment, but Ava took it as love. Love and rage, but she took it, no matter the pain that would erupt in her warm folds later, her knuckles supporting her upward frame. Keeping her dark eyes staring back into his, half lidded and yet still full of lust, full of want and need for her father. Her fingers shifting, palm going flat again when she heard him speak to her so angrily, but so demanding that there was no fear to shift through her. No, it wasn't fear, but love for her daddy. She would do anything for him, even with him demanding now that she play with herself, force herself over that edge that he was so desperately pushing her toward he wanted her to reach. He wanted her to cum with the majority of the cause being his forceful thrusts into her young body, it almost made Ava want to cum already. But she wouldn't, not just yet.

One of her hands carefully shifting down between her legs, with another set of gasps and moans, only getting louder when her middle finger began working the bud of nerves and feeling that wonderful sensation shock through her skin. Pure sexual electricity. Ava having closed her eyes when she felt that surge move through her young body, it was with another soft hiccup of moans, mixed with delicious gulps for air that she looked back into his eyes, nails scratching aimlessly at the table, " Dah - ah- Daddy! " Her near scream was what ushered in her delicious first orgasm, inner walls gripping him even tighter as she heard the way her slick folds reacted, the slapping sound only growing wetter as she coated his length with her juices.
 
He had to stop. He had to stop or he was going to cum and there was no way, no way whatsoever, that he would allow this to be. He had to maintain control, had to prevent himself from reaching that state of orgasm. It was torture for him, of the purest form, but he could not explain that just yet to his little angel. How her Father would stroke his thick cock for hours, how he would fuck a woman relentlessly...always denying himself that final shuddering moment, until when he was in near pain he would finish. It was masochistic in a way, but he did not view it as such, no...instead he viewed it as utter domination of his desires. A victory. He felt her folds tightening, gripping and demanding his flesh obey in the way only a woman could provide...wet velvety grip suckling away at him, but he stilled himself...he stilled himself and he leaned in and pulled her up against him. His hands eased upon her throat, one remaining there as a sign of utter territorial declaration...and the other began to roam.

He loved her.

That was the truth relevant at that moment, once passion found a brief plateau and they were able to have that connection, that intimacy. He felt it, hammering inside of him, as he brought her up so that his chest rested against her back. Forcing her to arch just slightly as he burrowed deeper into her little cunt, that thick shaft pulsing with his seed, his ass tightening even more to prevent himself from spilling. She could see it in his features as he searched her eyes, the need inside of him that he stilled, finally relaxing so that he could lean in and kiss her. Slow kisses, sultry love nips, that was what was called for at the moment as they remained entwined, his hips rolling in slow shallow motions to taunt them both as he felt her nectar slowly dripping down him...knowing it was coating her inner thighs. He gave a small murmur of appreciation, adoration in his face as that free hand touched the straps of her dress, sliding them off of her shoulders.

Baring her beautiful bosom for his attention. As he did so he moved those kisses lower, running along her jaw line and up to her ear, light caresses of a tongue felt across her throat, the slight bite upon her shoulder. Yet his attention was elsewhere, his goal evident as his hand cupped one breast, sliding along the underside to grip the entirety of her, digging his fingers in possessively as he almost snarled against her flesh...his full lips moving into a hungry expression. And then, then he slapped that tit, his hand coming up and then down sharply, a vicious blow before cupping it once more. His voice low and sultry in her ear, his breathing steadying, as if causing her pain gave him so much more control over himself.

"You've been thinking for awhile, little one. Thinking long and hard about what this would be like...tell me, confess, what do you dream of Daddy doing to you?"
 
The sound that emerged from his little angel was soft, almost sounding close to a whimper when the female realized that her father had in fact stopped himself. So desperately, but he had done it. Just like any spoiled little thing, his daughter had the faintest sign of a pout on her face, up until she felt her shoulders press into his chest, back arched like the perfect crescent for her father's touch. Had he stopped for some means of his own, or by means of punishing his damn near insatiable little girl? Maybe a mixture of both, a large part of her thought the latter more than anything else. But she wouldn't dare ask him at a time like this, not as he so gently caressed her and looked into her eyes with such love. How could she say she had craved anything more than that? Anything more would seem beyond greedy and that was not who his little Ava was. Even to breathe in lovingly as he kept his hand wrapped around her pretty throat, closing her eyes to accept that this was quite frankly what she wanted.

All the boys who had touched his daughter didn't matter, they would never compare and she had always known that, since the day she felt that delicious itch within her that her craving couldn't be settled by anyone but her dearest daddy. Ava Martin's lips returned the soft, affectionate gestures of their lips meeting, breathing in without a sound as he pulled away from her wanting lips, half lidded eyes watching the lust shift around and turn into a softer emotion. Love. Whether he would say it aloud or not, Ava already knew her father loved her. He had to, to be accepting, willing, holding her, rocking her in such a filthy way with his length still buried in her wet folds.

Even with the thought that her father hadn't necessarily filled his daughter with all his love, her rear shifted again and a soft gasp of air emerged when he slapped her heavy breast. Only to return and gently give it affection, her hands raising gently only to settle one against the back of her father's neck, nails tracing imaginary shapes into his neck. Such an odd question, but it made her smile softly, as he wasn't being condescending or angry toward her anymore, but almost curious in a divine way. " I had dreams of you taking me in my sleep, daddy. I had dreams of you punishing me for being so filthy with boys in front of you. " There were so many times she had fantasized about what her father would do when he cracked, or even after he had cracked. So many fantasies, waiting.


 
Was he punishing her as much as himself?

It was a hard decision in that moment to know which it was. In that moment where he held her breast so gently in his hand, the fingers tightening on flesh which he had just previously harmed. His fingers tweaking, pulling on the nipple, wanting her as hard as a pebble even if he was not necessarily making her pay for anything that she had done. Anything that she had wrought. Yet he still had not answered the question inside of both of their minds. Which was being punished the most? Her Father enjoyed the torture, the delicious wickedness, of holding back pleasure. Yet he had not denied her the orgasm she so richly had partaken in, why then did he deny his? The truth was that he enjoyed control in all it's forms, and there was no more measure of control over the mind than the ability to deny yourself satisfaction. So his cock thrummed, it pulsed within her, his hips pressing fully up against her young ass. He held himself still as she finished speaking, for at that moment when she admitted her dreams it was nothing but his ironclad control which prevented him from spilling his seed.

Spilling his seed deep into his amazing, wicked, little girl. She would have liked that to be sure, would have enjoyed it, the final fulfillment of her own twisted desires and dreams. No, he could not give that to her, not because he did not wish to do so...but because it would have been a ceding of power to her. It would have meant she had won entirely and that he would never do, not unless it was on his own terms. He leaned in, feeling her fingers on the back of his neck, his eyes blazing as he kissed her throat...giving a small love nip, his wish to conquer her more than evident. The fingers on her throat moving softly, tracing before he gave a small jerk of her young form and he whispered. "You'll have to work harder for your prize, Ava."

He slipped out of her at that moment, his shoulders tightening in frustration as he practically hissed with want. He wanted to be back within her, wanted to take hold of her and make her serve him in ways she had never dreamt of. Yet he wanted to rein in her hungers, have them focused, and after all...she had gotten her orgasm had she not? He could feel her slickness coating his flesh...glistening in the low light of the room as he gave her ass a hard slap before stepping away from her. He stepped back and moved to seat himself at the head of the table, those dark eyes never leaving hers as he took hold of the base of his flesh and slowly stroked himself. Precum bubbling up at the tip, his voice demanding as he spoke. No longer a whisper, no longer soft, instead the voice demanding.

"Come show your Father what those other holes can do."
 
The heat radiating just simply from his waist into the rest of her frame, was no longer the stinging she had felt only moments before, where the heat had filled up the room so rapidly, now seemed to only be around the pair. Radiating. Had it always been that way? A question of the same extent rang out in her mind now, curious as to whether or not her father had always wanted to punish her. Always wanted to have his hands around her neck or fingertips gripping her flesh in such filthy ways. Probably not always, oh no, there had been many times of the young girl picking at her father, toying with him in ways previously shown, to prove that she definitely needed to be punished, and there was only one specific man to do it. No teen boy could lift and spank her ass properly, and not a single older man other than this one knew exactly what this little deviant needed to be taught lessons for. No, other men were simply steps, stepping stones on the way to her bigger prize, and of course she didn't mind. A man's weakness to feminine flesh, a man's weakness to a simple bat of pretty eyelashes, long legs, and bedroom eyes, was all her gain. Like a giant game.

Maybe that did make her sick, cynical even. It didn't once bother her to disappear out of a man's life after a situation so to speak. To completely reject an older man by telling him she used him for what she wanted and that was it. Never afraid to simply snap ties with anyone, it was odd to say that never once had she wanted that from her father. Didn't even think about it. She wanted to be his, for as long as she possibly could be. Sick, wicked thing. Closing her eyes softly when his hand against her throat shifted from tender to forceful in moving her slightly, the brunette's frame seemed to move gracefully with his pulls, tugs, again as though this were all perfect and right. It was, after all. There it was, one of her favorite words; Prize. Did he know what little Ava was after, what else she had managed to want in this situation of winning by corrupting this older man. Of course he did, he was her daddy.

While he began to slide backward, Ava's hips remained where they were, despite the soft shiver that coursed over her, snaked up her backbone and left her with faint signs of a chill on her skin. Unexpected, but she didn't at all argue with him about it. No, this wouldn't be the end, whether he thought it was or not. Ava was somewhat selfish, but she wasn't a selfish lover. Half lidded, pretty eyes staring out across the living room dully, her hands slipped away from her father's skin, and settled onto the arm of the couch, only now noticing the cool, damp feeling within her thighs when his hand sent a blow to her firm rear. Turning from looking over her shoulder just in time to see him sit down, the wicked goddess only let her eyes leave his when she watched the clear stream add to being coaxed toward him. Enticing, and obviously not at all minding to be drawn in, the barefoot brunette moved toward him, fingers moving to hook and pull her dress up and over her head. These were not the curves of some little girl, hair curtaining their faces as she moved to straddle his lap, her lips so warmly taking his while her wet slit grazed his length again, almost as though she were again going to make him acquainted with where he had just been.

Ava's loose curls brushing over his face, heavy bust pressed against his chest as her lips shifted, faint trails of soft love left against his jawline by her lips, until she began to move. Carefully, so easily, the brunette slid between his legs, that very same bust that had leaned against his chest, now so warmly nestled between his legs, tongue gently cleaning up the mess of fluids she had made, starting from the base and trailing upward, only to let her eyes dance upward and into his.
 
She was poetry in motion and he was lost in it.

He could not help but find himself in the motions of her body, the curves and rolling way she moved towards him. Like a cat given human form she seemed to slink, the slide, to hedonistically scream out how self satisfied she was with herself. With good reason it seemed. She was purely woman, regardless of her age, and she radiated sensuality that was pushing him to try to lose the control he had kept in such iron constraints. His hands came to touch her hair, taking it and gripping it as viciously as he had earlier...wrapping his hands inside of that gorgeous man and jerking her head just slightly so that he could watch every inch of his thick flesh sliding along the perfect visage of his little angel. He pulsed, precum dripping up to mingle with the mess she had made upon his skin. His eyes met hers and he gave a low thorough growl of utter approval before leaning down and kissing her.

He swirled his tongue against hers, mingling and tasting the sex upon her lips, wanting to push her further. They would come to those moments, there was no doubt. They would come to understand the darker dreams that her Father happened to hold. They had only begun, but his little girl was already pushing him to the peak and he doubted that he could hold back much longer. Instead he knew what he wanted, knew entirely, and with her there before him he slowly smoothed her hair back so that he could admire her beautiful face, his voice whispering quietly.

"I'm not going to be able to hold out much longer. I just can't, little goddess, but you...you will do this my way..." His hand traced down her face, caressing slowly as he gave her another small kiss, and then he situated himself.

He did indeed seem to believe in torture of all kinds.

He raised his hands away from her, raised back and behind his head so he could get a firm grip on the back of the chair behind him. His lips moved, one side curling up almost in a snarl as he practically readied himself. His legs slid a little bit, back bracing, and he could feel his stomach tightening...preparing for what was going to be happening. His cock flexed once more, his eyes just as low lidded as her's as it bobbed before her face and he whispered. "Take me fully, no hands. All that touches between us are your lips and my cock. All the way, hold your throat down as long as you can and then when you near passing the fuck out...you can come up. I won't last long...take all of me, my Ava."
 
Even if she had spent such an intricate amount of time ignoring her father's demands and protests, producing a spoiled little girl that he so easily loved, his words wouldn't go undenied. She wouldn't dare, as even in this instance, she was here to make the man who's legs she sat between very, very happy. No matter how interested he was in depriving himself. His self neglect didn't mean she had to be a part of it. She was going to take care of her father, even if he proceeded to neglect himself. His daughter had spent plenty of nights neglecting herself, choosing the lesser of men to build herself up for him. Ava was going to hold her aura of calm, the vibrance in her pretty eyes as she looked up at him as she felt the delicious twitch of his length against her.

It couldn't be helped, to feel proud of yourself for silently winning, even more so when you were about to put the figurative icing on the cake. Closing her eyes at the shift of his hand sliding through her hair, amazingly finding affection in each caressing touch. His words slipped into her mind as though they were something whimsical, and in a way they were. Magic, because it was almost unbelievable. Doing it his way didn't seem to phase her, pretty eyes staring up at him with want, craving to have her eager mouth back on his length, to have it fill her mouth with both his cock and his seed. The way he braced himself made her exhale softly, eyes shining because again, the brunette was proud. Without experiencing it, her father knew she was going to make this beyond worthwhile.

Now, however, her eyes held a different look, palms flat against his knees, fingers sliding up and nails lightly grazing his skin. Her nails scratched softly, the expression in her eyes becoming clearer as her mouth neared the tip of his cock, palms sliding away from his thighs just as her mouth met his length again. The vision in Ava's eyes was that of hunger and desire, palms flat against the floor beneath her as her head moved down, mouth expanding beautifully as she felt him reach the back of her throat. Unable to maintain eye contact as she moaned, her eyes closed deliciously, feeling the soft saliva build up in the back of her throat. Then came the sound, to be honest, one of Ava's favorite sounds, the soft slurp that emerged when her head raised to expose his length glistening. It happened three more times, the third time her eyes finally opening, pretty bright orbs sparkling with well kept tears as he filled her throat again.
 
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