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It Runs in the Family (Haunted x Sanja)

He gave her a slight glance as they sat there in the car, sadness in his features as he tried to reconcile what had happened and the question...it was at that moment he really looked at his hand and he gave a small measured frown, as if he had not quite known the extent of the injury. Maybe he had thought the pain originated from somewhere more integral...maybe he'd contemplated it was coming from his soul. He shook his hand and brought his finger to his lips, sucking it just slightly in a way that should not be done and then he straightened his shoulders and gave that finger a pained look before giving a resigned sigh.

"No, your Mother checks over bills relentlessly. I do not feel like paying out of pocket expenses for an ER visit. I doubt I want to file this....she'll ask questions," his voice trailed off and he stared at her before speaking quietly.

"She'll ask questions, she'll want to know where you've been if you come home like this. She'll wonder what happened to you if she found out you were out....so we'll have to drop you off so you can sneak in, exactly like you were planning on doing yes?" His eyes were solemn as if he were speaking business with her and he looked out the window as he started the car, beginning to make the long drive home. He did not ask her about how she had gotten to the "dungeon" nor did he pursue how she had quite expected to get in without the alarm going off. Instead he was focused on something else, something in him seemed resigned, almost determined that he be punished and yet that is not what was said.

Instead his hand reached over and took hers, quiet and calm, and he gave her slow squeeze of...companionship, of shared experience...he stayed that way for a moment before speaking again, not making asking a question but stating a fact.

"We won't be speaking of this." He did not say whether or not he meant to others, or together. He did not reference if he expected this to just vanish in their past or if they would ever partake again. Instead he just let that moment speak for itself.
 
The silence between them was nearly unbearable. Minutes ago he’d had his cock lodged in her throat, but now they had left their safe place. The real world surrounded them, dark shadows cast by the fluorescent lights of the parking lot. Paige had no concern for her car. She’d be able to get a friend to drive her over after school the next day and she already had an excuse cooked up for her mother. Ugh, her mother.

Paige wasn’t fond of the woman. Aside from the generic thankfulness of being carried about for nine months and pushed through her vaginal canal, her appreciation for her ceased there. Her earliest memories were generally nights being spent with her father while she was out on the town. Either business dinners or dates with her “friends,” her mother always had an excuse to be out of the house every other night. Wine was her constant companion. By the age of seventeen, Paige wasn’t fooled by her mother’s heavy application of perfume to mask the ever-present scent of booze.

She didn’t deserve him.

Her fingers clutched tightly at his offered hand, fearing they’d never share a similar night ever again. She didn’t want it to end, but time didn’t stop for anyone. Their drive was silent, Paige stealing intermittent glances of her Father as they headed home. As the scenery grew familiar and the vehicle turned into their neighborhood, sadness took her. She hated this world; it was dull.

“You can just stop here,” a soft request as they were a block from the driveway. It was an easy sneak back through her window. They had a house alarm, but Paige was no moron. The pressure pad at her window had been taped down, effectively disabling the tone that would chime upon her entry. She lingered, sharing a final moment of privacy with her father before leaning over and timidly applying a kiss to his cheek. After her attentions she quickly opened the door and pulled herself away.

Knowing her mother, she was likely already passed out on the couch with a bottle in her hand waiting for Father to come home. Her window silently slid open and the girl was safely in bed within minutes.
 
Thus would end the evening.

It was a bittersweet parting as such things went, especially since it had no right to romanticism. He watched her as she stepped out of the car and perhaps they had been having the same thoughts in life, the same dreams and sadness, as they drove together and returned to that loveless home. It was something the Father never spoke of, never discussed, but it was something that obviously tore him apart inside...and yet, was he not the man who had decided he needed more and had stepped out on that drunken wife?

Could he be considered a good man at all?

Yet he had never been cruel to either of them, never been hurtful, and had always been loving no matter what faults existed in that home. As he dropped her off he watched his one hope, the one thing he had considered pure in his life step out of his car and his own features felt a shared need...a shared experience that they could never forget. It also resonated a deep fear...that he had sullied the one good thing in his life. That was what twisted his stomach as he returned home, that is what terrified him deep inside of his being.

He had dirtied his little girl.

And while she returned home to sneak in, he returned home to enter and pick his wife up off that couch and guide her into the bedroom. He tucked her in and cleaned up after her, and he consoled himself with the idea that eventually Paige would leave this life and move to have one of her own...he consoled himself as he stared at the ceiling above him for the long final hours that night had to offer...and he realized that if there was one thing he regretted about the night, the one thought that truly bothered him as the minutes ticked away it was this.

He should have fucked her.
 
Paige had a difficult sleep. The muffled sounds of family life would have previously agitated her, though now she just lay beneath the covers with her varied stuffed animals attempting to picture every move he made. It was impossible to ignore their exchanges of the night and every emotion that came with it sent her tossing and turning. Would she ever get to see him like that again? Did he even want to?

Minutes slowly passed with her eyes focused blankly at her bedroom window, listening for movement after the lights had all gone out. Perhaps he’d leave a note, or some small token of the night. He’d never insinuated such a thing would occur, but a girl had to hope. Instead she was rewarded with silence. Her muscles were tense as she clutched at a plush rabbit, the toy tucked beneath chin and hugged tightly. Eventually, Paige realized that such a gesture would not only have been dangerous, but also rather juvenile. They weren’t playing high school games.

Silent tears began to fall, hot on her skin and streaking her cheeks. For one fleeting moment the girl contemplated sending a text only to realize just how incrementing the words she wished to share would have been. Beginning to grasp just how difficult it would be to act normal the next day, her body curled tightly. They would be limited to brief hugs and small talk, especially in front of her Mother, his wife. A pang of anger resonated through her at the thought. Just one person between them, an important one.

The next morning was rough. Exhausted, she rolled out of bed and followed her morning routine: brush teeth, wash face, get dressed. A fresh wave of panic surfaced as she observed herself in the mirror. A few welts, while healing nicely, still poked out from beneath her skirt. She pulled a dark set of hosiery on and hoped no one noticed anything strange. Brushing her hair was a short task before setting it with a head band and moving to leave her room. She padded at an awkwardly slow pace towards the kitchen. Every morning was different. One parent might be present while the other had left early, sometimes they all ate together.
 
Rough. Rough was a good word to use for how he felt, for how they both felt, and it was a hard morning for the older gentleman as he pulled himself out of bed and stared at himself in the mirror. God he looked so terrible. The exhaustion had worn on his face, the inability to sleep having truly turned him haggard. Yet he had responsibilities, he had a life that he had to provide for them, and that included getting ready and going to work. Regardless of how important he might feel himself to be in life, everyone answered to someone, and he answered to those he worked with. He shook his head to try to clear it before getting up and greeting the day.

Greeting including showering rather vigorously, scrubbing the night off of him. Taking ibuprofen to get rid of the pounding headache that tore through him. Dressing and combing his hair so that he resembled someone respectable. That was important in his line of work, looking the part, and he slowly felt himself coming together as he stood there and stared into the mirror, adjusting the buttons on his business shirt. He felt his willpower coalescing and taking hold, clearing the fog from his mind, and he was finally able to think again.

And he thought of her.

Not his wife, his daughter. He thought of Paige and facing her this morning. He had already noted the empty bedside, already seen the text from his wife saying she would be going out of town this weekend on a seminar. He had not forgotten that, but it would leave him and Paige along in the home after what had happened....alone for the entire weekend. That was just not something he could foresee going without a problem. Still, it was best to handle these things head on and deal with them.

As he came down stairs he began to brew a pot of coffee, glancing up when Paige entered and he spoke with slow deliberation. "Your mother won't be home for a few days. Do you think you'll be okay?" What he actually was asking, what they both knew he was asking, was if she thought they would be okay.
 
The relief that washed over her was immediate. He stood alone, without any kind of grand meal prepared. She dropped her backpack on an empty chair at the table before making her way behind the counter and opened the fridge to retrieve a container of orange juice. Coffee was still a fun time drink for her; she drank it with friends while taking pictures and loaded it up with too much cream and sugar. She looked to him nervously before stepping closer to grab a glass and fill it.

Paige no longer had any clue as to where they stood in relation to another. Her fingers pressed gently to the chilled glass, small areas of condensation forming at her fingertips. She was mid-sip by the time he spoke, her eyes finally rising to meet his. An absent mother was hardly a new concept. Though what would have initially been taken as a fact with little thought, her mind now raced. An unanticipated rush adrenaline surged through her, waking her much more effectively than any drink could.

Her reaction was delayed due to emotions, but the tone in his voice was undeniable. She abandoned her drink, turning to her Father and stepping close as her arms wrapped about his torso. Her embrace was tight, cheek pressed firmly to his chest while her hands clutched at his back. Paige had feared that he would ignore her until college and only send care packages during Christmas out of a parental obligation. She’d envisioned a truly lonely home; her mother constantly out of town coupled with him endlessly avoiding her would have likely driven her insane. She clutched with intensity, the door of concern he’d cracked was flung wide open. Her relief was visible. He’d dispelled her fears with one question.

“Of course!” The emotions behind her tone were palpable. Her eyes even watered slightly, the joy she felt immeasurable. “I was just hoping you would be too.” Large blue eyes looked up to him, ignorant to the length of her embrace.
 
Making a small sound he just held her, not really saying anything at first when she grabbed hold of him and could feel her in his arms, the way she needed him, that was the problem...if they had been passerbys in the night then they could have just let this go. He could have chalked it up to a terrible mistake to have taken advantage of a young woman and then he would have just moved ahead, making sure to keep himself from being such a monster, doing his best to be a good person in the face of the terrible decisions of his life. Yet he was her pillar, her foundation and strength, and he could no more remove himself from her life than he could cut off his own arm. His throat tightened just a bit before he reached up and touched her shoulders, gentle and kind, and he pressed her back just slightly.

He looked down into her features, inhaling the scent of her, taking the time in doing so...his hands squeezing on her skin reassuringly before he leaned down and brushed his lips across her cheek, his voice quiet and calm. "Don't worry about me honey."

How often had she heard him say those kind of words, how often had he just shrugged off the emotions of pain and grief that must have been endured by him. She had heard him use those words before when he'd been in a car wreck, when he'd taken her Mother to the hospital, when he was upset about the economy and struggling to deal with bills. Every single time she had reached out emotionally he had quietly and gently told her not to worry. For him everything was going to be all right, because he would make it so.

The maneuver also had the gentle reminder that he did not wish to hurt her as well, he was doing his damndest to make sure that this entire event played out positively for her. She'd opened herself up, broached new horizons, and explored something that was often dangerous to others. Not physically, not with people who were being responsible, but emotionally...and he would go out of his way for her to feel like she was something worthwhile and special. Something that should be appreciated by a man.

Even if that man could not be him.
 
Their shared embrace calmed her more effectively than any speech or reassuring note ever could have. She was content to sink against him, wishing they could remain this way for hours. Sadly, life continued regardless of being prepared.

If not last night, Paige would have likely visited that club on another night as well. Given her inexperience and general lack of deep intimacy, she’d have likely latched onto whomever approached her first in a similar fashion to her father. Living under the same roof just made the sensations impossible to forget. How could she? His scent alone evoked at least a dozen small details from their encounter. Growing up with him made her familiar of every habit; the way he walked, his posture, even his wardrobe were all possible triggers to her newly developed tastes and desires.

Her body shuffled away once pressed, her own amount of control necessary in order to release tight grasp at his torso. Too young for a fine perfume, she smelled of girlish body spray that left a trail of citrus in her wake. Paige fought the urge to respond as he leaned in, the girl holding still as he offered affections and encouraging words. She was frozen, his lips had summoned a blush, cheeks turning pink while eyes darted immediately to the floor.

She would never forget the way his kisses made her feel.

It wasn’t long before she was awkwardly side-stepping and retreating to the kitchen table. She dug through her bag to locate her phone, which she flicked through for a few moments before dimming the screen and putting it back. “A-Ashley will be here soon to pick me up, I want to grab my car before school.” She was in the process of rinsing her glass as a few short beeps sounded from their driveway. Collecting her belongings with haste, she offered a final grab at his elbow before turning to leave. “Then let me at least worry about dinner tonight.”

With a short wave she was gone, the front door locked behind her and soon followed by the sounds of a car door opening and closing before the engine slowly dissipated into the distance.
 
Let her worry about dinner. Well that seemed completely reasonable, and more than that, completely normal. That was what was necessary for them both. A bit of normal, a bit of something casual and calm. Maybe, maybe they could just set aside what had happened and let it be something shared but never spoken. Something that made them a little more tender and understanding of one another, considerate...and yet as she retreated, as she walked away from him, he could not help but let the thoughts enter his mind as his eyes slowly slid down to see her hips moving to and fro.

He wondered how her little backside felt.

He had whipped her, pressed against her, spanked her with his barehands. There was no doubt that he had abused his little daughter's ass, and he imagined what I looked like beneath her clothing as she pulled away and sauntered off. His eyes swirling with hunger as he remembered that moment where he had almost broken every code he held and mounted her fucking perfect body. She had been so slick, so ready for him, and he wanted her...wanted her as if it was his dying wish.

His nails bit into the palm of his hand and he slowly breathed outwards, letting it slip away, trying to discard that drive...he could feel the throbbing pain of his broken fingernail. The ache helped to center his thoughts and he could feel himself trembling with adrenaline, the readiness to push for more shaking him to the core. It had been years since he'd had such a reaction to a woman. Oh there had been arousal, but desire on this scale? No, he'd been a youth since he'd felt like this.

All he needed to do was get through the day, relax, focus...and this evening would be just fine. They could eat, they could watch a show or two...maybe the Walking Dead? That would work out he thought. That would work out and everything would be a bit more sane once again.

He knew deep down he was lying to himself.
 
Ashley was a bit on the nosey side. Her inquiries never stopped, asking what she was doing in the area, who she was with, and how her car ended up abandoned. Paige only offered vague responses, hoping to skirt the topic at hand while peering out the window in an attempt to appear casual. Ashley’s car pulled to a slow stop next to her own and she was quick to jump out and grab her bag. “Thanks a ton, I owe you.”

She drove off, leaving Paige alone. Her eyes turned towards the familiar building from last night, the magic had dissipated only to reveal a run-down front in the sunlight. The girl sighed before opening her door and gently lowering herself into the driver’s seat. Her ass was so sore, she could only imagine how the desks at school would make her day even worse.

The seats at school were the least of her problems. From home room to final period, her attention was divided. Paige did her best to focus on the lessons and worksheets, but any small ache from her rear immediately reminded her of her father’s punishments. It was a long day; her mind was a swirling sea of arousing daydreams and memories. She fondly recalled the way his palms pushed at her skin, how he worked over her exposed body…

The final bell jolted her from her repetitive thoughts. With great haste she threw any remaining books into her bag and briskly made her way to the parking lot. Getting home was somehow a race, her desire to head home a foreign feeling. Despite the effort that would be required, she wanted to impress him. Pasta made from scratch and fresh meatballs was on the menu. Though the flour was messy and getting a perfect consistency for the meat was a test, Paige couldn’t help but feel proud. Helping with chores used to be considered a nightmare. A new pleasure formed from the knowledge that she’d be assisting him, making his day easier. Was this what a domestic spouse felt like?

To fully dress up the meal she’d decided to set their kitchen table as finely as possible. Tablecloth draped over the edges evenly and their fine cloth napkins were folded in in intricate pattern. Two places were set next to each other as opposed to across, she didn’t want to have to sit so far. Taking a step back to observe her handiwork, she smiled. Serving him even in daily tasks was almost as fulfilling as intimacy. Almost.

Her eyes darkened with greed as fingertips ran along the textured tablecloth, imagining them sitting casually and eating dinner like normal. She didn’t want normal any more. Impulsively, she took a pen to paper and scrawled a short note then left her message resting elegantly upon an empty plate. For consistency’s sake, she took away one setting, leaving a single plate and set of silverware at the table. The note simply read: “Have to study, I’m at Ashley’s. I’ll be home before dark.”

As if on cue, the sounds of a vehicle pulling into the driveway signaled his arrival. Paige quickly dove beneath the table, concealed rather neatly by the tablecloth. Someone would have to be purposefully looking underneath to even notice her presence.
 
Frustration. Aggravation. Anxiety.

These were all words that would apply to the day her Father had. None of it had to do with work, or her Mother, or finances. None of the typical stresses of an everyday life were part of the train of his thoughts. Perhaps that was the telling aspect of it all, the fact that what would normally bring him such heartache had never been his daughter. Not until this moment. His Daughter had always been the one bright spot of his life, his beautiful girl had always been the one thing he felt was not only important but also safe. That might have been a lot of pressure to put on the young girl, but he had never shared with her the fact that if there had been anything in life he had been sure of it was her.

Until now.

No, now his day had been filled with trying to move past everything that was occurring. It had been taken up with him keeping hidden in his office, keeping himself from being bothered by others, holding his calls and just trying to keep a little bit of silence as the day went on. He had even made a point of leaving work early to go to the gym, an irregular activity to be sure, but he figured exhaustion was better than the idea that he was some sickened pervert. That he was some twisted human being.

The truth of the matter happened to be he was that hungry fucked up man, and for once the dominant needs and wants had led him astray into an area he had never imagined possible. He had pushed so many boundaries in his existence, to think that this boundary was also going to be broken...well, it could not be. Yet every time his willpower gave way he remembered how she looked...spread, glistening, and ready for a cock to be slammed deep inside of her as she screamed out for more.

God help him.

So he arrived home, a little past time, trying to keep a clear head through his exhaustion. They had been out late, he had worked hard, and he had physically pushed himself....it had left him sore, but languid, and he came home to find the food and note and felt that pride in his girl. She was being...just exactly what was needed. Kind and loving. Getting his food, the movements of his body seen by his dress shoes walking along the hard wood floors, he inhaled the scent of it and was minorly surprised. This smelled amazing...and so he had a seat, disappointed his angel was not with him but understanding that maybe they needed a little distance.
 
Paige observed her Father with fascination. There was something thrilling about studying him while under the illusion that he was alone. Lowered onto hands and knees, elbows would bend as her face sank closer to the floor, hoping to view more than his shins as he entered and observed her handy work. The task of remaining silent seemed unbearable despite the simplicity of it. Her heart beat rapidly once he was seated, the girl no longer having to lean to observe him. Biting at her lip, she pondered her actions. What the hell was she doing? She should be a good girl and leave him alone. Clearly that’s what he was trying to do.

She craved for his attention.

Her desires outweighed her respect for society. Silently, hands and knees inched across the floor in an attempt to draw nearer to him. As distance between them dissipated her excitement grew tenfold, forcing a surge of adrenaline. She paused inches from his feet, quietly contemplating the ramifications of her choices. Would he be upset? He hadn’t given her much body language to read that morning, but their shared rendezvous spoke volumes.

Finally committing, both of her hands reached out. Soft fingers reached for his left knee, pressing gently through the material of his pants in a reassuring fashion before beginning to explore. Small palms separated, one pressing at calf and shin while the other timidly lifted to grab at his thigh. Enjoying herself, fingers would squeeze and massage in an effort to explore and learn all she could of his anatomy. After all, she’d been bent over and blind the majority of the other night. Now it was his turn to be surprised.

With her presence known, she shifted. She inched closer, supple thighs encircling his ankle and allowing her rear to balance upon his well-polished shoe. Once positioned the girl leaned in, nuzzling against him. Her actions emboldened, both hands swiftly rising to venture towards his crotch. A hand boldly traced at inner thigh before cupping and massaging his manhood, hoping to divert attention as the other reached blindly for his belt. Fingertips traced along the firm leather before locating a metal frame, tugging gently to loosen the restraint.

Paige was silent the entire time. Listening intently for any protests or complaints, she hoped that he was experiencing the same decay of morality.
 
He had begun eating, just enjoying the fact that she had made him this food and that it was something wonderful that she was being so considerate to him. Even after what he had done, she had decided that she loved him through it all. That was the part that brought him such great wonder, the part that made him smile so deeply. She was willing to feel that their relationship had a depth of meaning to it that even the mistakes of the previous evening could not erase. He was exceptionally proud of her at that moment.

That very moment when he felt her touch him.

For a moment his body stiffened, shock splicing through him and causing his heart to stop. There were very few things you expected to have happen from under your table and being touch was not one of them. Cold ice water pumped through his veins, the moment crystallizing before rational thought took back over and he realized exactly what was happening with the reassuring touch of his daughter's fingertips on his thighs. It was her, it was his angel, and she had reached out to him to show him comfort with making dinner.

And was now reaching out to him to show him comfort in their decision. Oh God, it felt so good to have a woman respond to him like that, to have someone understand him completely in this fashion. He could feel her young lithe body pressing close, wrapping around him, and the way she moved to press her little rear up on his shoe made him smile just slightly, a dark feral look to his features she could not see as he idly wondered if his shoe was being polished. Wondering if when he stood he would see a perfect shine to that black material.

Her hands explored him and he allowed the exploration, playing along and saying nothing, instead continuing to eat his meal as his thighs opened up so that she could maneuver with better ease...there was no doubt as to his hard flesh, the readiness of that thick cock underneath her hands...he acted as if she were not there, letting her enjoy her game even as his breathing deepened...arousal setting in, and he felt...worshipped.
 
His forced ignorance lifted any fear she might have previously harbored. After all, the worst response would have been a kick to the face followed by complete refusal of intimacy. Encouraged by her Father’s lack of protest, she grew bold. Nose and cheeks nuzzled fondly at his knee, the expensive material of his suit nearly velveteen to her touch. Inhaling deeply, the girl began to languidly roll her hips over the fine leather of his shoe; soft coos and gentle sighs soon followed, slightly muffled by the tablecloth.

With an unfastened belt and hardening member, Paige was beginning to anticipate the familiar experience of their previous night. Button and zipper were tackled with ease, light pressure applied against him in order to aid her efforts. She offered a few final rotations of hips before releasing her hold upon him, thighs abandoning him as she settled between his legs.

Drawing near with little restraint, hands tugged at the hem of his pants as she leaned close. Hot cheeks pressed firmly against him through his undergarments, replicating how he’d previously rubbed against her. Firm shaft was unmistakable, her breaths growing ragged as lashes lowered from desire. Settled upon knees, her elbows and arms rest casually over his thighs as she worked. Earning his approval was a treat in itself, though Paige desired to fully please him after all he’d shared with her.

She made quick work of his underwear, pulling the band downwards to expose his erection beneath the table. The sight of him in the dim light was intimate, only for her view as she was only for him. If anyone did happen to walk in on them, her presence would have gone entirely unnoticed. Her lips parted, leaning in close as tongue extended to apply tantalizing licks and loving kisses along his shaft. Her tongue was wet and hot, leaving a thin trail of saliva in its wake then chilled slightly once exposed to the air. After applying a few attentions she rubbed against him once more, smudging against her reddening cheeks.

Finally she took him in. Her tongue swirled about his head much like he was candy, lapping at any precum offered before taking in more. She lowered herself slowly until he pressed at her throat, fingers massaging at his thighs as she recalled how to relax herself. Loosened, she lowered herself completely against him. Paige held in place as long as possible, holding her breath in order to train herself. Moments passed like hours, the girl holding fast as long as she could before pulling back and inhaling deeply.
 
He felt his stomach clench as she deepthroated him and it was hard to contain himself, that orgasm building but he was not ready to do so, not yet. Instead his hand clenched together, the pain excruciating on his broken fingernail digging into his palm, but that was the nature of this man that she gave herself so readily to. He was like hard steel, brutal not only to others but to himself...and willing to deny himself pleasure even when it was offered so perfectly. The pain radiated, lancing up his arm, cutting through the haze of lust his daughter instilled within him. His shoulders bunched together and yet he gave in and yielded the tiniest of bits.

He slowly spread his thighs, widening the area so that she could take him fully, and now he was no longer ignoring her but instead watching her intensely. Those matching eyes never leaving her beautiful face as she kept herself down on him, her throat working before pulling herself off. It left him hard, thick and pulsing, nearly spilling out and onto her features...his free hand moved to caress her face, tracing a thumb over her spit covered lips and he slowly slid it back to cup her head to guide her forward once again.

"More."

It was all he said as he brought her down once more, not forcing it, just letting her take it slowly down her throat. He gauged her, keeping still, not fucking her lovely features. Instead he just let each inch slip down into her and when she finally came down and hilted that was when her Father changed. She could see it in his eyes, she could see that moment when he became a fucking demon. The hand in her hair tightened, terrible with it's strength, and he kept her clasped close...but the true purpose was made evident when his other hand lowered and took her nose. Pinching it closed and keeping her there as he whispered.

"Shhh...trust me...trust me...relax....relax, angel."

God she felt so heavenly, so perfect, his cock and balls bathed in her spit. He loved good messy blowjobs, they were by far the best, and his eyes looked away from her as he slowly leaned his head back and just basked in the feeling of a woman taking that engorged dick. A low groan came from his full lips, and as he relaxed he braced the heel of his foot and brought the tip upwards, pressing that material hard against her cunt as she trembled underneath him. His daughter was an amazing, perfect, beautiful little slut.
 
Paige gasped for air. Her breaths were ragged as she kissed and nuzzled at his girth, the knowledge of his pleasure was enough to fill her with a deep sense of pride. The extra space he’d given her was immediately filled, the girl drawing close. In her eyes, to be near him was to be near a god. No one had ever touched her in a similar fashion, he alone roused desires and needs that she never knew existed before. To fully submit was to release herself blindly to his hand, yet words could never properly describe the intangible reward.

He touched her.

A blissful grin spread over her shimmering lips, the girl offering a soft hum of approval as he grabbed at her thick tresses and guided her lower once more. Her response was immediate, lips willingly accepting him as she sank once more against him. The familiarity bred confidence, her tongue even massaging at his shaft before her throat was penetrated once more. Her fingers held fast to his clothing. She clutched in an attempt to control her urge to breathe, nose and forehead nestling against him as she took him in completely for a second time.

The tone of their exchange shifted drastically. His grip was frightening, her instincts undeniable as she reflexively bucked back only to be held firmly into place. She settled back down despite her shaken nerves, only to be rewarded with his fingers pinching at her nose. Paige tried to protest, but all she could offer was a garbled grunt which only forced more saliva. His words of encouragement were all she had to go on, the girl forced to trust that she wouldn’t pass out due to lack of oxygen.

She perked at the sound of his pleasured groan, a noise the girl had never heard from her Father, even after their previous night together. As she recalled, she was doing much of the moaning herself. His blissful tone greatly thrilled her, the knowledge of satisfying him delightful. It also seemed to have earned a reward. His shoe returned, curved leather nestling firmly between plush thighs and up against her hot sex. She spread her legs, lowering against him to enjoy what was offered.

Moisture began to seep through her panties and hosiery, glistening as her hips began to wiggle about. Distracted and disoriented, her efforts would yield poor results but that hardly deterred her from trying. Her body began to desperately grind against him, her slickness audible against the freshly polished leather of his shoe.
 
There was no denying what was going to happen.

He could have tried to stop it, could have forced her off of him again. He could have taken the time to rationalize that this was not what should be done, that this was horrid, that this was fucking wrong but all of that disappeared in the blissful pleasure of the moment. The feel of her contracting throat around his shaft, the way she gagged on him and then fought to keep herself not only from choking but also from passing out. He had denied her the very essence of life, the very air that she need to live, and what did she do for him? What did she do?

She kept fucking going.

He felt her grinding against him, his calf tightening, making sure his foot was steady and unyielding to the wicked motions of her hips on him. As if she were already on top of his big thick cock and fucking her own Father for all he was worth. God, no....no...that was the thought that shoved him over the edge and his hands tightened, tightened hard on her before shoving her back...he did not want to cum down his pretty girl's throat, such things would come later. That was not the drive that took over him at that moment as he stood and the chair slid back across the floor.

It hit a small section of the flooring that was uneven, teetering and falling over with a crash, the noise echoing in the room as he straightened. His hand left her nose, letting her breath as the other jerked her just slightly out from under the table, forcing her knees to scoot along the hardwood floor, abrasive on her lovely flesh. His freed hand moved, taking the base of his prick, gripping it hard as those furious eyes looked down at her.

Almost as if blaming her for making this happen.

And then he came, her own Daddy. He came, coating her...pouring down upon her in a small torrent. He hissed through gritted teeth, the chorded muscle of his forearm seen as he forced her head up and underneath him...making sure to coat her face, wanting to watch as the seed spilled down to spatter over her lovely breasts. Oh fucking God, how beautiful she looked in that moment, not merely because she was a stunning woman but because...

He had claimed her. She was His.
 
Paige was lost. In a vast ocean of pleasure of fear, he was her only life line. She clutched desperately in an attempt to control her desire for air. Her lungs slowly began to sting, the sensation growing from a small discomfort to one of concern. Anxiety only pushed her further, hips rocking with wanton desire to keep herself distracted from the pressing urge to breathe. Her throat clenched uncontrollably as several small dots began to appear in her vision. She’d feinted once before due to heat stroke, but this was an entirely new experience.

He pulled away.

His swift retreat was dazing, breaths ragged and deep to fill her lungs with oxygen. The absence of his cock left her with a sense of abandonment. Sure, breathing was nice, but the girl longed for his touch. She visibly flinched at the sound of the chair only to be pulled out from under the safety of the table. The floor burned her skin, snagging her tights and ripping at one of her knees. Exposed to the light, she blinked several times in order to adjust before peering up towards her father. He looked upset as he towered over her.

“D-daddy?”

She gasped at the sight of his orgasm. Warm ropes smattered over her cheeks and nose and Paige immediately opened her mouth and tilted her chin upwards, hoping to taste a sample. Her uniform had wrinkled from their heated exchange, the messy button-up now painted with his seed atop the swell of her breasts. She looked a mess. From her tousled tresses to ripped leggings and everything in between wet one way or another, it was a wonder that all he suffered from was a lowered pair of pants.

She licked at her lips, fingers dabbing at cheeks before sucking gently. She’d never finished a man before, let alone a man finish on her. With fingers between lips her bright blue eyes returned to him, still on her knees. If he bothered to observe his own clothing his shoe was still very moist, glistening much more than the other. For a time she was silent, content to smudge him around on her skin before lapping gently at fingertips. What did you say after such an exchange? What did you say when it was with your Father?

“I love you,” she finally whispered. A hand timidly reached for his calf, her lashes still heavy with desire.
 
Love.

What a strong word to use in a moment like this, but it was a word that was very appropriate for them both. He could have used her more, abused her further, but the truth was that this connected them in a way that needed no furtherance of the physical. He felt her hands touching his calf, felt her caressing him, and his gaze blazed with his own stirring desire...a bit banked now that he'd had release. Once more in control he adjusted himself, pulling his pants back into proper place, even though he left that thick flesh still revealed. Slowly he leaned down and touched her face, tracing his fingers through the stickiness that resided there and a small bit of humor flickered into his eyes as he whispered.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

This was perhaps the most damning of the moments between them. Not that he was a cruel man, or had used his daughter, had hurt her flesh with his hands...but that he could also be gentle and kind, and he reached down to take her by the arms and lifted her as if she were nothing. He did not carry her, no, though it was obvious he could do so. Instead he guided her in her languid state through the halls of their home. He bypassed her room, bypassed the bathrooms, and instead took her to his own room....took her into the master bathroom. It was there that he would begin undressing her, noting the state of her garments. He said nothing further at the moment but it was obvious his intentions.

He intended to bathe her. There, in His Shower. Not her own, not somewhere else, this was claiming and he would let her claim propriety as well. Here he would wash her, take care of her, show her how much he loved her and perhaps once they were in that steaming water there would be more between them...an easier indicator being the slow, burgeoning, hardening of that cock that she had just taken care of.
 
His gentle caress and intimate whispers were vastly different from the man that had stood before her moments ago, but she responded just the same. His fingers forced a mindless grin, the act of receiving attention filling her with a sense of pride and joy. Her Father could have chosen anyone to run off with at night, yet he allowed her. There was no resistance to his efforts, the girl standing silently and allowing him to guide her through their home as if she was a guest.

Paige had never spent a large amount of time in his bathroom before. Every now and then one of them would ask her to grab a band-aid or aspirin and she’d be able to root through the medicine cabinet for a minute or two, but she’d never bothered to linger before. Familiar hands began to tug and undo her garments, the girl silent as he slowly revealed more skin. Stained button-up revealed a pair of breasts that filled a C-cup rather well, the garment itself much tamer than the one she’d been wearing the other night. Her palms and fingers supported her as she stepped out of her tights and underwear, both left with a dark pool of moisture.

This was her first time completely nude to anyone as a developed woman. Her pale skin was flawless and her figure bore measurements that adult magazines craved for. A blush crept over her. Sure, he’d had her in situations far more extreme than this, but being completely exposed for the first time was far more intimate than she’d ever imagined it to be. Finally, she felt confident enough to allow her eyes to meet his.

“Do I…” She trailed off, half amazed that she was even asking her Father such a question. “Do I get to cum too?”

Even with a short glance her lack of satisfaction was easy to notice. She apparently was already shaving herself and left nothing more than a landing strip. Her pussy was still glazed with her thick juices and a delightful shade of pink lingered over them. To emphasize, Paige used two of her own fingers to spread herself, revealing her clit and wet lips. She looked to him once more, this time with desire and need.

“Please?”
 
They both stood there nude finally and he raises his eyebrows at the very forwardness of his young angel, smiling just slightly as he tried to keep from teasing her. This was an important moment for his girl and he understood that, he did not wish to make her feel upset in that time and yet...the power was so tantalizing. He moved close to her, his flesh hard once more and brushing across her abdomen as he pulled her near and slowly kissed her throat...he took his time with the languid movement of his tongue, tracing upwards to caress over her ear as he breathed....the warm air brushing across sensitive skin.

She wanted more, he understood, who would not?

He felt so good as he hugged her, the foundation, his body a rock that she could rest against. He was solid, immovable, and secure and it was that security which she had relied upon her entire like. He did nothing to encourage her need, instead his hands were soothing, soft and loving, caressing as they traced down her back and along the spine...caressing her young rear, moving over the top and then back up to her shoulders where the hands smoothed across the muscles and slowly kneaded and he whispered very softly.

"Not yet."

With that he stepped away, denying her. He denied her pleasure, denied her climax, ignored her concern as he started the shower and began to adjust the temperature. He stretched himself as he did so, the muscles in his shoulders aching as the stress from the day slowly began to leak from his large frame and he moved up into the hot water. His skin was reddening slightly from the water pouring down upon him, the steam already billowing into the small room, and obviously her Father liked his showers on the side of boiling and he offered his hand up through the fog towards her and murmured.

"Come here, angel."
 
Paige wasn’t expecting such intimacy. The extra height he had over her could be intimidating with the appropriate posture. As he leaned in to apply gentle caresses and doted upon her, intimidation was the last thing on the girl’s mind. His hardness made her heart race and earned the tilting of her chin to expose herself freely for further attentions. Her lashes were sent aflutter, hands instinctively reaching for support which was found at shoulders. His initial breaths against ear earned a soft whine, eyes rolling and lashes lowering.

Biting at her lip to contain a moan, she felt his hands trace along her body. His casual pace seemed impossible through her haze of arousal, her muscles tensing and relaxing beneath him. Goosebumps followed in his finger’s wake, light sighs of joy and affection offered as she fully leaned against him. As small of an effort it was, she’d never been touched in such a way. No boy her age had the comfort and ease to languidly roll over her muscles and effortlessly tease at her throat and ear. She was thrilled, rocking gently with his fingers until he denied her request.

He pulled away again.

A whine of desperation surfaced, her eyes wide with shock as he simply turned away and began to run the water. It took all the control she had to not immediately start throwing a tantrum. Paige had never waited so long for a release in her entire life, and now he just wanted to shower!? The girl pouted as he turned the faucets, stepping to his side and grabbing his arm. Tugging lightly, she whimpered in an attempt to earn more attention. “Please, Daddy! Please!”

Generally that was all it took to get what she wanted from him; a cute look and asking twice was usually enough to crumble whatever resolve he had to ignore her. Not today. He simply entered the shower and called for her to follow, her desperation rising to what she’d previously thought to be an impossible level. That was what pushed her forward, her desire for fulfillment. Accepting his hand she stepped into the steaming air and exposed herself to the hot water. It stung her pale skin, bouncing and rippling along her slopes and curves like miniature rivers. Once damp, her hair clung to her neck and shoulders in thick tendrils as her skin also turned a light shade of pink.

Mentally grasping at any straw she could, she thought it wise to pluck a bottle of body wash from a shelf. “Can I wash you? Please?” Her desire for skin to skin contact was thinly veiled, though she doubted he’d have much of an argument against the offer.
 
He tilted his head just slightly as she stepped in, the shower something that would please any human being. It was one of those that made sure you were nice and soaked, every inch of your body peppered with water. Adjustable pressure and height allowed a person to just bask in the warmth and that was exactly what her Father was doing. As she stepped in, he languidly opened his eyes, those shoulders tightening just slightly to still his own desires for her and he reached out his hand to touch her face, seeing her trembling.

This was torture for them both.

Yet this was an aspect of their relationship he wanted to establish completely from the beginning. He wanted to control her pleasure, to have complete power over it...she might not know it as of yet but the events she had set in motion when they were in the dining room would have consequences she could not foresee. It had broken her Father's will at denying their attraction and because of that already had him thinking in terms of a man with a submissive, a man with someone who would serve him. He wanted to ensure that it was his touch she always longed for, that it was him she wished within her...

No other man would ever compare once he was done with her.

He turned away from her as his voice whispered. "Of course." And he raised his hands to place them against the cool stone of the wall, leaning forward to place his head against it. It left his back wide open, the arms and legs wide in stance, so that she could gain access as she wished. He would let her play her attempts to provide her pleasure, and perhaps he would give in, but for now he would do nothing but revel in the feeling of her young eager hands upon him. His eyes closed, sighing softly...

Few men had it so good.
 
While Paige was thankful for the spacious room that was offered within the shower, she really had no clue that it was something to appreciate. Their home had always been grand; slabs of fine stone decorated a vast amount of the bathrooms as well as their kitchen. Ignorance of her spoiled life allowed her to continue on as average as opposed to privileged. Though the private school thing really should have tipped her off.

The touch of his hand drew her near, accepting her fate as she settled towards the center of the luxurious showering space. Her cheek nuzzled against his fingers, hoping to earn approval. While her actual experience with power dynamics was next to none, Paige was already responding to her new role with her Father. Being alone with him held an entirely new meaning and the majority of her free time was now spent mooning over him. Suddenly, she was experiencing the exact same irrational behavior that most of her friends suffered from with their various boyfriends. But Paige had something very different. She had a dominant.

She had her Father.

Deep blue eyes observed with fascination as he freely allowed her to explore. It didn’t take the girl very long at all before she’d lathered her hands and reached for his frame. Starting at mid-back, her palms pressed gently and rotated in a casual fashion. The girl observed with fascination, as if attempting to memorize each inch of him for her inevitable lonely nights. Slick to the touch, fingertips applied gentle pressure as a form of soft massage while wandering up towards shoulders. Stepping closer to reach his biceps, Paige excessively leaned in. Her breasts pressed firmly to his lathered skin, the soft flesh gliding against him with little resistance.

Her fingers eventually snaked around his torso beneath his arms, her small palms blindly feeling about his pectorals and abdomen. She loved exploring, experiencing him freely was practically a gift in itself. It wasn’t long before she was entirely nuzzled up against him, water the only thing between them. A pleasured sigh resonated from her, the closest thing to a release she’d experienced in the past two days.

With confidence built, the hand at his abdomen tentatively dared to inch its way further down. She honestly couldn’t stop herself. Even if he’d caught her in the act and told her to cease she wouldn’t have been able to listen. Her hand wrapped about the base of his erection and it received a massage similar to the rest of his body. Fingertips rolled in small circles against his firm shaft, still attempting to take mental notes despite their previous intimacy.
 
Stopping her was not necessarily in the cards but he was not doing this for his own pleasure. Like she had said, he had gotten his own enjoyment already, and while she was finding herself sliding further and further down the rabbit hole of submission...he wanted her to understand how deep it went. He felt her pressing near, feeling the moment that she gripped, and he reached down and touched her fingers...making a small noise of no. Denying both himself and her. So few men had the ability to do that, to just shrug off their own hungers and set them aside...yet her Father seemed one of the only ones with the capability.

He turned his head slightly and kissed her cheek, looking down into her eyes and then he moved so that she was the one against the wall, so that she was the one who was being given the proper amount of attention. He stepped back to pick up the soap, his eyes quiet as he studied her, and he whispered.

"Hold still, hands against the wall, and don't move."

It would have been a little silly, the words sounding like kids playing cops and robber but that was not what it was. The voice held a measure of certainty in it, of expectation, that obedience was going to occur and there was nothing in this world that would change that fact. His hand tilted the body wash, pouring it liberally into his palm and then he set it aside, smoothing his hands together to split the liquid and then his hands took her shoulders. This time it was not gentle caresses he provided her, not the touch he had given her outside of the shower.

This time it was intimate on a differing level, a man seeking to provide pleasure to a woman, drawing it out...the fingers slowly kneading her flesh, massaging deeply and relaxing...his palms smoothing along the spine until he caught the curve of her lower back, thumbs swirling up to give a slow grind against her. The man could provide a massage if he chose, and while he had done so before when she's had cramps or a crick in the neck....Daddy had never quite touched her like this. He shivered, breathing out and then he leaned in and whispered softly into her ear.

"Who owns you."
 
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