Daddy's THICK TABOO collection (20 books from Horny House Series)

by Adrian Amos

  The power of daddy's strikes are like nothing I've ever felt before. His palm strikes my naked ass, the skin burning as his power ripples through my fat. He's furious in his slaps, giving me not a second to react to the previous strike before the next one torches me. I want to complain, but the only thing I can mutter is a tiny yelp with each impact. The hits are so primal I can't even vocalize my frustration, instead enslaved to the beating.

  And enslaved to the uninhibited arousal.

  The primal doesn't just lend to obedience, it lends to a sexual awakening as I lay across daddy's lap. My gut tightens with each smack, reacting not to the pain but to the growth of pleasure. My own inability to talk or stop daddy only seems to inspire my libido, feed my submission, and moisten my cunt as I squeeze my thighs together to hide my shame.

  I grip onto the bench with one hand and lay my other hand on daddy's leg as his spanks become harder, shifting me across his thighs. The burn in my ass is intense but numbing as well, the repeated strikes desensitizing me.

  But my pussy aches all the more, causing me to flinch excessively, anticipating every spank just before it happens. I have to bite my lip in order to stop me from moaning.

  I can't...

  I won't...

  I shouldn't enjoy this...

  Just as I feel I'm about to give in and let out a gut wrenching moan, daddy relents, pushing me onto my knees. My butt stings as I sit on my feet, the cheap carpet offering no support.

  I sigh, happy I didn't utter any sexual sounds. I rub my butt's tenderness, in both an effort to ease the pain, and to somehow re-spark that pleasure I'd been feeling.

  Unfortunately, my hand isn't able to do the job that daddy's performed so well.

  But now that my arousal is dying, I have to ask. “How was that supposed to relax me, daddy?” My tone much more obedient than frustrated, unsure of why my punishment occurred but not complaining about it happening.

  “That was just the beginning. I wanted to get you riled up, because when you orgasm, it's going to feel all the better when that pent up energy is released.”

  My mouth is agape. My mind has to go round a few times before I can form my thoughts. “Wait? Did you say orgasm?”

  Daddy stands up and drops his shorts. I can see the line of his cock pressed against him in his tight boxer-briefs. It looks like his cock is rock hard! Did spanking me turn him on?!

  “What—“

  Before I can finish, daddy drops his boxer-briefs to his ankles. His cock bounces from its prison, pointing outward and up, straining as it's fully engorged.

  “Oh my—daddy! What are you doing?!” I shield my eyes with my hand, dumbfounded by the sudden appearance of daddy's dick.

  “Babygirl,” he says, squatting in front of me and gently removing my hand from my eyes, “I need you to come for daddy.”

  I gasp. “Are you serious?”

  He nods, strangely easygoing with the whole idea. “Yes.” He points to the door, “Out there is your destiny. That's where we need to go to get you to the next stage. We're running out of time. We need to win, and we need to win now.”

  I shake my head. “I don't get it.”

  He looks over at the clock. “We've got thirty minutes, and we need to get you unwound. Dancing is all about fluid, gentle, tender movements. You have to flow, you have to love life. You can't be nervous or stiff. Those judges will see it in a second, and poof”—he snaps his fingers—“you're toast.”

  My eyes drop to the floor. Am I really about to walk out there and lose everything?

  Daddy lifts my face with his hand. “But an orgasm, babygirl? That'll get rid of all that bad energy in you.”

  I blush, smiling at the crude thought. “You really think we should have sex?”

  He nods, “Yes, and now. Time's running out.”

  I look into his eyes, studying them.

  “I would do anything for you. We didn't work this hard to let it slip through our hands.”

  Holding my chin in his hand, daddy leans forward, his lips meeting mine. The softness is otherworldly, his masculine scent filling my lungs. That spark in me from before reignites and I place my hand around daddy's head, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. Daddy opens his mouth and our tongues intertwine, bathing in each other as daddy's hands work their way around my body.

  “We have to hurry,” he says, “and we can't get this messy.” He grabs my shirt and pulls it over my head.

  When he reaches for my bra, I stop him. “Daddy, what if someone walks in?” The stage people typically walk around from room to room checking in on contestants. If they saw a daughter getting fucked by her father...

  “I told them not to bother us. I didn't want anyone screwing with our flow. They'll be here five minutes before our entrance. Now, let daddy take care of his baby.”

  His nimble fingers unclasp my bra and slip the support from my ample breasts. The chilly air hits my nipples and I throw my hands over them.

  Daddy thinks it's my modesty. “No need to be like that. If you can't trust me, who can you trust?” He gently removes my hands before bending over and taking a nipple in his mouth. The warmth of his mouth solves my nipple dilemma, and I reach back to support myself as daddy devours my tits.

  Daddy sucks and licks, his tongue circling my nubs as his lips pull them from hiding.

  “Oh, daddy...” I groan, the warmth in my breasts transferring to that sweet spot in my cunt, the one that stirred when daddy punished my ass.

  “Yes, baby. Let go. Let all that tension go. Let it melt away.”

  His words aren't even necessary. It takes only a minute before daddy's mouth turns me into a puddle. “It feels amazing, daddy.”

  “We got to get you to come, baby. Time's running out. Here, up here.”

  Daddy helps me to my feet and sets me down on the bench. Turning me, he lays me on my back, the wood bench surprisingly more comfortable than the dirty floor. He gestures for me to lift my legs, and when I pick them up, he pulls my panties off.

  Setting my legs on his shoulders, he gets to work, his face pressing deep into my cunt.

  “Damn, babygirl. You're soaking wet!”

  “Daddy!” I whine, looking up at daddy between my legs, “I already told you it felt good.”

  He shrugs, “I didn't think it felt that good.”

  I blush, resting my head back down.

  “You like it when daddy sucks on you, don't you?”

  I nod, “Yes, daddy.”

  His lips meet my clit, sucking on the nub full of sensitive nerves. I squeal, the intensity too much as I clasp my hand over my mouth, not wanting to alert some passerby of the naughty things we're doing in here.

  “Sorry, baby. It's not ideal, but time's of the essence.”

  Daddy slows himself, massaging around my lips with his fingers. On occasion he'll dip in and suckle my clit, kissing and stroking it with his tongue. Each subsequent time mellows the intensity until it's nothing but pleasure and all I want is for him to keep playing with it.

  “There, daddy, there!” I call out as his mouth hits the perfect spot. His lips are around my clit, and each suction sends a driving force through my pussy, gathering deep in my stomach.

  “Yes, daddy, yes! Keep sucking. Yeah, right there, right there! Kiss my pussy! Oh fuck, yeah!”

  I'd never be this vocal, but I know the competition is about to start soon, and the last thing I want is for daddy to do all this work and his little girl not come.

  I buck my hips, riding daddy's mouth as I push it along my pussy. He sticks his tongue out and I force it through my slit, allowing daddy to taste me back to front.

  “Come on, baby, you can do it! Come for daddy.”

  “I will, I will. I'll come for you like a good girl.”

  “You're my babygirl, you got this.”

  “Yes, daddy, yes! Fuck!”

  I explode, my body racking against the slatted wood of the bench, my ass floating in the air as I hold onto daddy's head, orgasming directly into h
is mouth. My body spasms, twitching and convulsing as the energy of my orgasm blows through me, shaking every muscle to its fiber.

  My lips curl in ecstasy as my body dies down, giving off little jerks as sudden, errant jolts of energy rushes through me.

  But the thing that daddy wanted is done. All that tension and anxiety I felt before has entirely eroded, absorbed into the wood, my euphoria expelled from my body and injected into the sound proof walls.

  Daddy looks on, happy to see his daughter come hard.

  But I'm not quite satisfied. I feel like I'm missing something.

  When he moves to rise from the bench, I grab his arm. “No, daddy, don't leave yet.”

  Concern drawn on his brow, he asks, “What is it? We have to get going.”

  “We have time, daddy.” I weakly pull him toward me. “I want you to fuck me.”

  “Fuck you? I don't know if we—“

  “Daddy, you pulled your dick out. I know you want to be inside me. I want you to be inside me, too. Please, daddy,” I beg him.

  He ponders it for a moment, but the throbbing of his cock has already made his decision.

  I lay back down, lifting my legs so my pussy spreads open and daddy gets a clear view of just how wet he's made me.

  Right then and there, I see the twinkle in his eyes. He straddles the bench in front of me, keeping my legs straight up and resting them on his shoulders. When daddy bends his cock down and glances my pussy, I jerk, my orgasm having left my cunt extremely sensitive.

  When daddy's cock punctures my cunt, it slides in quickly, lubed by my orgasm. The pleasure is so much, though, it becomes distinguishable from pain, as daddy's thick cock drags along my walls, lighting a fire through my pussy.

  I grip daddy's arms as he lays into me, his arousal sparing nothing as his cock is at full thickness, and the angle he's penetrating me sends his cock to the farthest depths.

  The sensation of being filled up is too erotic to be consumed by pain, and my grunts become moans all over again, satiated by daddy's manhood fucking me. His dick rams me hard, daddy's speed picking up as his dick meets no resistance from my soaking pussy.

  Daddy grabs the stocking on my leg and pulls for leverage, which lets out a loud rip, adding an additional hole to the faux-tattered stocking. I'd complain if I hadn't already put holes in it, or if my pussy wasn't getting forcibly pounded into oblivion. There are things to focus on, and holes aren't one of them.

  Daddy lifts my butt off the bench, and it's like his cock falls into me rather than thrusts. He merely drops his weight, slamming his cock into my aching cunt, the slaps of his balls against my ass violent and loud.

  When the pleasure in his face becomes clearly visible, he grabs my hips and uses his power to fuck me, rapidly banging me like a fuck toy, driving his hips to his own completion.

  His thick cock throbs and expands inside me.

  “Oh shit, I'm going to come in your pussy, babygirl!”

  “No don't, daddy!”

  “It's too late, baby. You gotta take it all.”

  Daddy holds my ass aloft as he pushes his cock all the way in, resting it fully inside me, causing my sensitivity to flare up. I cry out, the burning almost too much to take.

  That is, until daddy's cock begins to unload his hot jizz. Pumps of white goo splash inside me, strands draping my walls, cooling down my orgasm-wrecked body, settling deep in my upturned cunt and forcing a satisfying exhalation of breath. The release of tension feels just as good as when I came, daddy's empty cock leaving me a warm gift as it departs.

  He holds my butt in the air for a few seconds. “Let your pussy soak in daddy's cum. It should make you feel better.”

  As resistant as I was, daddy's cum feels amazing inside me. The warmth comforting as it sits in my pussy and seeps through my walls. When daddy lets go, it sloshes around as I adjust myself in the seat, squirting out as my legs close, drenching my thighs in milky cream.

  Feel better is an understatement. It actually makes me feel content and confident with life, like I can take on the world.

  As I shiver and enjoy that feeling of wholeness, I look down at my stocking, examining the new hole in the tattered fabric. Looking at it, I realize it's going to be a memento of the first time daddy and I fucked. Every time I look at it from now on, I'll know that I'm done making these holes myself, content to let daddy fill that role forever.

  When we finally get to that stage, we win. We dance like we're one person, sex morphing our moves into something impossible for the average daddy-daughter dance. We aren't average. When someone connects with you so closely, dancing seems like the simplest thing in the world.

  The judges call it the most fluid dance they've ever seen from any of the contestants.

  Who knows what they would have said if they knew I performed the whole dance soaking wet and full of daddy's cum.

  I don't know, but I do know they'll have another chance to find out.

  There's no way I'm dancing on the national stage without daddy's cum threatening to gush out at any moment. It's the most satisfying thing to know that daddy's been inside me, and to know just how much he loves me.

  After all, daddy says we have to be our best, and I know daddy'll do whatever it takes to make his daughter happy.

  Dancing's never been easier.

  - - -

  Daddy Works a Skilled Trade

  My stepdad hasn't so much as glanced at me since we got in the truck. He's just been driving in silence, strangely focused on the road ahead of him.

  Not like he's the talkative kind. Especially with me. Especially with what I've done lately.

  He's been a hardass on me for most of our time together. It's like he's taken it upon himself to act like a real “father”, since I never had one. But I never asked him to, and it's kind of fucked up that he's even trying.

  It's, like, where do you get off? I'm a grown woman. Yeah, I might have dropped out of college, and yeah, I might not really be looking for a job at the moment. It's kind of shitty. But I'm young, you know? It's the time of life to go out partying and having fun. I have all the time in the world to do that other shit later.

  Lately, though? Yeah, I've kind of been getting a little hardcore. God, it must've been the past few weeks I've been out drinking pretty much every day. One helluva night led to me getting a winged tattoo on my lower back, and a stud through my bellybutton. I was double trouble, no matter which way you were looking at me, from front to back.

  It wasn't the wisest decision I've ever made. I mean, I could even say I regret it somewhat. But not really. It's not like I destroyed my body, and that stuff is easy enough to hide anyway, or get rid of if I really want to.

  My stepdad, of course, the knuckle dragger he is—he's a manager at a construction site, seriously!—found out (although I wasn't really hiding it, as hammered as I was when I stumbled home) and flipped his lid. I've never seen him yell at me so hard. Like, cursing and everything, insults and whatnot. I just let it bounce right off me.

  But I did feel bad. I'm just living my life, but it's not like I want to drive him crazy or anything. But he hasn't really spoken to me in the past week, and I'm not a big enough person to do the talking—or apologizing—first.

  That's why I'm surprised he invited me along on his job. Normally, I'd tell him to piss off, but I feel like I should make it up to him for nearly giving the old man a heart attack.

  It was like: “Hey, Bec. I need some help at the construction site. You mind helping me today?”

  And I was like: “Sure, whatever.”

  Those are the only words we've said to each other this week.

  But I know he's desperate for help. His small construction team went on strike. I'm talking, like, three guys, tops. Not because of anything my stepdad did, but because the company they work for is trying to circumvent paying the guys overtime after an especially brutal construction project that was hard pressed for time. Having only three guys should tell you enough about how cheap the compa
ny is. They worked their asses off, and the company didn't want to pay. I don't blame them for striking.

  But my stepdad still needs to get shit done, even if it's pulling in people for outside help.

  Although, I have no idea why he'd have me tag along. It's not like I know a damn thing about construction. He must be out of options, I guess.

  Enough to break his vow of silence toward me.

  “So, uh... daddy,” I call him that when I'm trying to be sweet and innocent, “what's the plan today? What do you need help with?” I want to win him over, no matter what. Not that we had a sterling relationship before, but at least he wasn't fuming at me.

  Daddy's glance is sidelong, not even turning his head when he looks at me. “Just basic stuff, really. Nothing you can't handle.”

  I throw a little playful cockiness at him, in hopes of lightening the mood. “Ah, you know me, I'm top of the heap when it comes to surprising you.”

  He doesn't bite, instead turning what little attention he gave me back to driving.

  I'd probably have a better time getting through to him if I'd dressed a little more conservatively. I've been in the habit lately of wearing tiny shirts and low rising jeans to show off my new tat and stud. I should have thought of that before dressing the exact same way on my way to daddy's work site.

  I'm sure it isn't helping us reconnect when he looks at me and sees my apparent disrespect staring him back in the face, open to him and everyone else to see.

  All I can hope is that showing him how helpful I can be will put him in a better mood.

  When he pulls up to the little construction job—a new gas station at the edge of town working as the last bastion before the next fifty mile trek—the place seems abandoned.

  It isn't. The construction workers are there, but they're just sitting on some boxes drinking coffee next to the trailer command post, as I call it.

  Laziest strike ever.

  I know their names—daddy's talked about his small team on a number of occasions—but I've never met them, and I can't put a face to a name. They're not old—maybe thirties—but that still puts them at least ten to fifteen years older than me. I've met some of daddy's older buddies, and these guys look pretty similar, with the wife-beater t-shirts and that musculature of blue collar workers they all seem to effortlessly have.