Massively Taboo 50

by Izzy Slam

  “Yeah, Daddy. Beat my ass!”

  He growled again and slapped me several more times on my cheek, making me tingle all over.

  “Your ass is so perfectly slapable, baby. And so easy to cum in.”

  “Thank you, Daddy,” I whispered, feeling completely out of breath.

  He moved swiftly in and out of my tight rose, and I hardly noticed when he went soft enough to slip out of me. I was in a state of heavenly bliss, my body and mind numb from all the pain and pleasure it had endured.

  Before I knew it, he was lifting the piece of wood that was holding me captive and pulling me into his arms.

  “You were amazing, baby girl.”

  I smiled and wrapped my arms around his neck as he swooped me off the floor and carried me to the couch across the room. He held me in his lap and softly brushed my hair as I sat there and caught my breath.

  “Did you enjoy that?”

  “You have to know I did, Daddy.”

  He chuckled. “Glad to know I can still punish my baby the right way.”

  “You can punish me every day, if you want.” I glanced up at him, and he cupped my face.

  “I just may do that. You are my slut, after all.”

  I smiled and melted into his chest. I loved being Daddy’s slut.

  ~The End

  Pa’s Dirty Little Secret

  Pa’s Dirty Little Secret Book 1

  ***

  I’ve lived with my pa, alone, since my mama died last year. It hasn’t been easy taking over everything around the house. But staying busy is a good thing, especially since I can hear the way he touches himself, night after night. Being innocent as I am, it causes me to have thoughts I shouldn’t have. I ache for a man’s touch.

  It shouldn’t surprise me that Pa wants the closest one to him to replace what he and my mama had. He IS a man with needs, after all. But does he really want me to be his dirty little secret?

  ***

  When my mama died last year, I never would have guessed things would turn out the way they did. I was an only child, so I was used to helping out, to having a lot of responsibilities. But those responsibilities multiplied once it was just me and Pa.

  When Mama was still alive, things were so much easier. But then she got sick and I started having to take care of more and more around the house. It’s now been a year since she passed, and while most days are rough, I’ve become accustomed to being the only woman in the house.

  I do most of the cooking and cleaning while Pa tends the fields and makes sure we have everything we need. I have to take care of the animals here and there, too, when my pa is too busy.

  Sometimes I get lonely, and I know he does too. I’ll come inside after making sure the animals are closed up for the night, and he’ll be sitting by the fire, rocking in his wooden chair and staring into space like he’s lost in another lifetime. I know he must be hurting something fierce.

  But there are other times I can hear him doing things to his body. Things I used to hear when Mama was still alive. Our cabin is pretty small. We are blessed with a separate kitchen and washroom, but I sleep in a loft above the main room, where Pa sleeps no more than twenty feet away. I can hear his grunts, the wispy sounds of hand against flesh as he tugs himself to completion.

  I’m eighteen years old, but I’ve never done that, you know, touched myself down there, mostly because our pastor says it’s a sin. I don’t want to go to hell. I want to wait for my husband to do that. But Pa doesn’t seem to have any trouble letting his hand replace what my mama used to do.

  I guess I can understand that. If you’ve gone almost two decades having sex, and then all of a sudden you can’t have sex anymore, I guess you’d get a little frustrated.

  Shoot, I feel frustrated, and I haven’t ever been with a man. Maybe it’s because I hear Pa violating his own body, and I imagine what it would be like if another man was violating my body. And if I’m being real honest, I do think about him taking me, in the biblical sense.

  I know it sounds wrong, and I would never tell anyone that I feel this way, not that I have anyone to tell. But it’s not that wrong because he’s not my real flesh-and-blood Pa. He married my mama when I was six years old because my real father died fighting in the Great War. And my step father wanted nothing more than a family to take care of. I suppose I’m lucky he stepped up to the responsibility. He’s a good man when it comes down to it. Even if he does touch himself in the night and make my heat flesh and make me throb between my legs.

  I also notice that when I’m halfway between my cycles every month I get particularly hot and bothered. Pa tends to touch me more, and he stands a little closer while looking over my shoulder at what I’m cooking for supper.

  Last night, he was touching himself for a long time. His grunts of pleasure seemed to go for hours, and I found myself getting wet between the legs like never before. I just don’t know how to deal with all these feelings, of wanting to be taken by a man, to feel his rod slide inside of me and consume me until I can hardly breathe. But I have to put those thoughts out of my head so I can focus on all the work that needs to be done. Staying busy was good for me, and for all these dirty thoughts consuming my head. And I certainly had a lot to keep me busy.

  But this morning, things changed. I had been tending to the horses, making sure they had plenty of water and not too much feed before leading them out to the pasture. When I began heading back up the hill, Pa was standing in the entryway to the barn, leaning against the wall and watching me. His shadow seemed larger than life, and I could feel the energy coming off him before I made it through the barn.

  I stopped at the first stall and wiped my hands down the front of my dress, worried that maybe something had happened with the chickens or goats. I hadn’t checked on them just yet. My heart jumped around for a few seconds as I held his gaze. It was obvious something wasn’t right. He was looking at me different than usual. His dark hair was tousled on his head, as if his worried hands had run through it dozens of times. And his eyes were heavier than usual. He hadn’t shaved today, which gave him more of a rough appearance. But my Pa was exceptionally handsome. Even I knew that.

  “Everything okay, Pa?”

  “I don’t know, Ruth. Lately, I just don’t know.”

  He shoved both hands in his pockets and tossed his gaze to the ground.

  “If something happened, you can tell me. I’m a big girl. I can handle it.” I thought I could handle it anyway. But right now, it felt like icicles were doing somersaults inside my stomach.

  He shook his head and took a few steps towards me. “I know you’re a big girl, Ruth. Not a day goes by that I don’t notice that.”

  I felt stunned by his comment because it felt as though he was referring to something very different than what I meant by being a “big” girl. “Oh, alright. Has something happened? Are we about to lose the farm? Do we have to move?”

  He ignored my question as his eyes swept me up and down, the same way the farm hands had done several years ago when Ma and Pa had needed some temporary help. Ripples of shame washed over me.

  “Do you know what it’s like for a man to have needs, Ruth?”

  My pulse quickened as he licked his lips. “No, I’m—I’m not a man.”

  Wrinkling his brow, he seemed to be growing more and more frustrated, but I didn’t understand why. “I know you’re not a man. I can see that.” He pulled in a long breath and stroked the side of my face with his thumb. Tingles danced across my skin. My father never touched me like that. “I need you to go on back to the house, Ruth. Climb up to your loft and stay put till I say otherwise.”

  My insides sank and my blood ran cold. “Yes, sir.”

  I made my way out of the barn, crossing the field to head to our cabin. I was sure Pa had something bad to take care of. Maybe one of the animals was sick and he needed to deal with it. Or maybe he was planning to pick someone up and bring her back here, like a prostitute from the city.

  My stomach turned at t
he thought of my father paying another woman for sex. He was so handsome, and I know he made my mother happy. It seemed to me he shouldn’t have any trouble finding another woman to love. But then again, where would that leave me? If he had another woman, he wouldn’t need me anymore, to cook and clean, to tend to the animals.

  As soon as I got back to our house, I did as he asked, climbing up to my loft and sitting on my bed. My thoughts were driving me mad, wondering what was going on. Curiosity got the better of me and I found myself scooting along the floor and peering over the edge, just above the ladder, and watching the door. I finally got tired of waiting and took off my calico dress, leaving on my slip and knickers. I crawled under my covers and drifted off to sleep, not realizing how tired I was.

  When I heard the sounds of the ladder creaking, I knew right away it was Pa coming to get me. But I was so relaxed, I didn’t bother to roll over and let him know I was awake. Maybe if I pretended to be asleep he would let me stay put a while longer.

  I laid still, hoping he would leave me be. But when I felt the covers being pulled down, and his weight as he crawled in bed next to me, my eyes darted open. What in the world was he doing?

  I was naked as a jaybird from the waist up. I would be horrified if he saw me.

  It seemed like an eternity went by before he said something. I expected him to inform me that my favorite pig had died or that Aunt Connie had come down with scarlet fever, or maybe something far, far worse.

  But he didn’t say anything of the kind.

  He scooted close to me. So close, I could feel his breath hit my shoulder. My heartbeat sped up, and I felt a mixture of nervousness and a weird kind of excitement at his closeness. He put a hand on my hip and leaned close to my ear.

  “Ruth, I’m a man with needs.”

  I turned my head slightly in his direction.

  “And yes, I’m your pa because I married your ma when you was young. But we both know I’m not your real pa, right?”

  His fingers trailed down my leg as he gathered my slip with his fingers, drawing it up, inch by inch.

  “Yes, sir,” I answered, feeling my body turn hot and my insides start to melt.

  “I need a woman. I need to feel a woman. And you’re eighteen now, and you’re the only woman I know.”

  His rugged hands grazed the soft flesh of my leg as he found the top of my knickers and tugged them down. I pulled in a rush of air as all these new sensations pulsed through me. Sensations that were wrong, that I shouldn’t have been feeling for the man who had raised me.

  “Pa, I don’t know about this…”

  “Shhh,” he whispered in my ear. “You know how hard I work, day in and day out. Just let me relieve my stress. I’ll be quick.”

  I bit my lip as his fingers ran deftly through the thick tuft of hair over my mound, gently caressing me just above my most sensitive area. My body ached on a scale that was so intense, I didn’t know what to make of it. It felt like I had been lit on fire, with the sparks landing right at my core. I ended up involuntarily thrusting forward.

  “Spread your legs for me, Ruth, and let me touch you. I know you have desires. All women do, even though you ain’t supposed to.”

  Oh god, how I had needed this, dreamed of this. My body had been craving a man’s hands for so long. And all this time I had believed that something was wrong with me.

  There was this moment that I danced on that line, knowing that once we crossed it, we could never go back. But his fingers were right there. And if my father was telling me to do something, I should obey. Just because I was eighteen didn’t mean I shouldn’t show him the respect he had earned over the years.

  Without answering him, I lifted my left leg, and immediately his fingers slipped down between my gash, delving into my wet and swollen folds. He went in a few inches, and my stomach fluttered.

  Shame filled me as his pointer came out and brushed my clit. But ashamed or not, there was no denying how good it felt. And as strange as it sounds, Pa must have been enjoying it too because he kept grunting and inching closer to me.

  I pulled my pillow close to my face, sinking my teeth around the corner as he rapidly brushed his finger along my swollen parts. I felt a tightening in my stomach, and my face turned white hot. Where he was touching me, well, it felt like it would pop like a balloon.

  “Go ahead and let yourself release, Ruth,” Pa grumbled in my ear.

  Something hard poked my backside. His erection, I was sure. I pictured it in my mind, long and hard. And suddenly, I had the strangest urge to touch it, to touch my pa’s erection. I wondered if it got wet the way women did between the legs, if it leaked the same kind of substance that was pouring out of me right now.

  He snaked a few fingers inside of me again, bringing with him plenty of my juices to use as he started circling my clit again. It felt slick and hard as he brushed it quickly.

  “Mmm, you’re so wet, Ruth. So wet for me. Just let go and cum for your pa…”

  His growls frightened me and excited me at the same time. My body tensed up and I held my breath as everything seemed to build to a crescendo. Like a bubble that was about to burst.

  And when his pointer focused on one little spot on the right side of my girl-bump, I was tossed over that edge. I let out a squeal and my leg fell down as the wonderful waves of an orgasm washed over me.

  Pa’s erection then slipped between my thighs. I was disgusted and mortified that his manhood was touching me. But it aroused me, too.

  I huffed and groaned as my clit bounced as if it were alive. Pa cupped his hand down there and I grinded my hips against him, feeling him take control of my orgasm as he massaged me with his palm.

  He began rocking his body behind me, forcing his cock to move in and out between my legs. His length rubbed my lips down there, getting coated in my juices. And then his hand moved up to my breast and I thought I would come undone. I didn’t have much to hold onto, but he cupped one of them tightly before rolling my nipple between his fingers.

  I hissed as electric sensations pulsed all through me, and my nipple hardened like a walnut. Pa groaned in my ear again as he quickened his pace.

  “Aahh, your pussy lips feel so good on my cock….”

  I groaned at my father’s dirty talk. I’d heard him say it once, several years ago to my ma when she was still alive, but I had plugged my ears right after. But now, hearing him talk like that made me feel so dirty.

  He grunted and tightened his grip on my breast, until it hurt. Slick, wet sounds came from below as he moved faster and faster. His breath came out in rapid bursts, and then his pace suddenly slowed as he growled and pinched my nipple hard.

  I bit my lip as warm liquid slipped down my thighs. Pa was cumming on me, his seed spilling down my flesh and to the bed below. The bed that I slept in every night. My stomach flipped several times, and as Pa’s hand ran down the front of my tummy, I felt his penis go flaccid.

  “At’sa good girl,” he mumbled, giving me a soft kiss on my shoulder before slipping out of bed.

  I could hardly move for several minutes after he left. Then I heard him in the kitchen, making some more coffee. I touched his seed on my legs and looked at it, thinking it looked similar to the icing I put on our hot cross buns every Sunday morning. So I decided to taste it.

  It sure didn’t taste like icing, but it wasn’t bad. I wondered if Pa would ever make me take him in his mouth. I’d heard from a friend that some men do that, and at the time it sounded disgusting. But now? It was a nice fantasy in my mind.

  I heard his feet shuffle past my loft, pausing at the ladder. I held my breath until I heard his voice call up to me. “I’ll finish up outside if you get started on dinner, Ruth.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Your old Pa worked up an appetite. Maybe you ought to make extra bread for us.”

  “Okay, I will, Pa.”

  Nervousness rolled inside me, just from his tone of voice. He sounded hopeful, like he planned to do this again. And honestly
, it made me quiver with excitement.

  ***

  That night at the dinner table, Pa barely looked at me. I believe he may have been having second thoughts about what we did. Maybe he felt guilty or ashamed. In a way, I hoped he didn’t. Because if he felt ashamed for what he did, then that meant that I ought to be ashamed, too. And I didn’t want to have those feelings. Not for the only man who had ever taken care of me.

  We both had two helpings of stew as well as extra cornbread. I guess he had been right—we worked up an appetite. I watched him eat, staring at those rugged hands that had touched me earlier today. Heat burned in my core, spreading between my legs. I wanted him to touch me again, and I hated myself for it.

  Also, Pa had taken me, without taking my innocence. Had he not wanted that sacred part of me, or was he saving me for my future husband? Part of me wanted to ask, but the other part of me was scared to bring it up.

  He glanced at me and caught me staring at him. When he flicked his gaze to my chest, desire rippled through me. I cast my eyes downward and scooped up the last of my stew.

  “Pete and Shuffle are still outside. You wanna bring them back to the barn after supper?”

  “Yes, Pa.” I answered. Anything to get out of the house for a while, away from this tension. I might even stay out there longer than usual. Shuffle was in need of a good brushing.

  After we ate, I put the dishes in the sink and told Pa I would wash them when I got back. I was feeling funny between my legs again, and I knew that a distraction would help me get my mind away from these dirty, shameful thoughts I was having.

  I led Pete and Shuffle out of the field and got them settled in their stalls. The sun had just set when I grabbed the brushes and was heading back to Shuffle’s stall when I heard Pa come into the barn.

  “Hey, Pa. You come to help me?” I asked, smiling. But inside I was frightened he was going to do it again. Frightened and excited.

  “You see the moon tonight, Ruth?”