It takes ten days for a small plastic zip-loc bag containing two small pills to show up in her locker. There's no ceremony, no note: just the drugs. Lucy slams her locker shut almost immediately, terrified that someone else will see, but student keeps moving down the hallway without a care in the world. With the world none the wiser, she comes back right before she leaves for the day, slips the baggie into her pocket, and spends the entire bus ride home with her heart hammering in her chest.
Her own base concept of morality is fully crumbling now, and a pit of seething arousal churns inside of her as she imagines what she's about to do. Her mother's next business trip is next week and, after the last one came and went without more than the most basic interactions between her and her father, she knows he won't be anticipating anything untoward. His guard will be down, thinking his daughter's weird horny phase has come and passed after their kitchen fight, and he won't be expecting the dinner she so kindly makes for them to hold sinister intentions. She'll make something simple—a tacit apology for their past two rocky months—and crush up the pills to mix into his plate. She hopes the drowsiness will hit quickly, only enough for her to help him upstairs to bed, so that she can wait for him to pass out in order to tie him down and strip him. Then, she'll have all the time in the world to fuck him and fill her womb with his cum. It sends a pulse of constant arousal through her and dampens her panties as she thinks it over.
There's some cordage in the garage, leftover from the last time they moved and had to secure pieces of furniture down in the moving van, and it should do the job. She's not the most knowledgeable about knots and stuff, but that's nothing a quick Google search can't fix. She'll figure it out in time, she's confident of it. Her parents' bed frame is metal, so it should resist any struggle he could mount if the drugs don't work quite as well as she's hoping and he wakes up in the middle of it all. Lucy's undecided on if she wants him to wake up or not. On the one hand, she'd get to see the look on his face when he finally couldn't fight it anymore and cums inside of her; but, on the other hand, if she winds up getting bred the way she wants, she'll have to look him in the eyes one day and tell him that it's his baby inside of her. Would he be angry? Would he punish her? Would there be some spark of recognition that she's finally giving him the thing he's always wanted: the second child his bitch of a wife kept denying him?
Honestly, though, she doesn't care. Lucy wants to satisfy her own taboo desires. If her dad winds up horrified, well, that's neither here nor there. She wants to fuck the cock that made her and take the cum that did the same. She's not doing this for his pleasure (although, it'll feel good for him to fuck a virgin teenaged cunt like hers, she knows it).
All she has to do is bide her time for a measly week. And, thank god, it flies.
"Hey, dad?" She calls to him while they stand on the front stoop and wave her mother goodbye that morning.
"What, Lucy?" He sounds a bit tired, and there are dark circles under his eyes. She wonders if he just didn't sleep well, or if he was anxious about the two of them being left alone again.
"Can I make dinner tonight?" She asks, her voice gentle and giving on purpose. "Give you the night off."
Her dad turns to look at her, a bit surprised. "You've never cooked before. What gives?"
Lucy shrugs. "I just want to do something nice for you, that's all. I know that since I talked back to you in the kitchen the other month, things have been kind of weird between us, and I just miss my dad. I don't know."
That seems to resonate, and his face softens. "Sure, Luce. You can make dinner. Do you need me to run to the store at all after work?"
She shakes her head. "I think we have everything I'd need. It's not gonna be, like, fancy or anything." And she sure does have everything she needs.
By the time the evening rolls around, she's practically shaking with excitement. She'd crushed up one of the pills last night, and the little baggie of powder is in her pocket while she tends to the chicken on the stove. All it will take is mixing in those wonderful, wonderful drugs into the sauce on his plate, and he'll be ready for her, at long last. She might have to force him to get him there, but he'll be ready for her.
She looks at the two plates next to her as she does a final sprinkle of salt and gets ready to plate. Her heartbeat is through the roof as she carefully lays down the asparagus, then heaps on the rice and, finally, sets down the chicken. The pan is full of excess sauce, and she ladles on a spoon or two onto her own chicken before checking over her shoulder. With the coast clear, she fishes out the powder and dumps it into the sauce with trembling hands before giving it a quick stir to make sure there's no sign of anything grainy.
She pours it over his plate and yells, "Dad! Dinner's ready!"
He must only be in the living room, because he appears almost instantly, curiosity on his face. "This smells real good, Luce."
"Thanks," she replies with a smile, picking up both dishes. "I made sure to give you extra sauce: I know how much you like to soak it up with whatever's on the side."
Her dad situates himself in his unassigned-assigned chair and softly laughs. "You do know me well, that's true."
Lucy's having a hard time keeping her breathing under control, and her composure is struggling to stay crack-free, too. Her heart is going a thousand miles a minute as she watches her father cut into his chicken and swipe it through the little puddle of sauce before brining it up to his mouth.
"This is delicious," is his verdict. "Is there more left? I might get seconds if I'm still hungry."
That's good. "There are two more pieces, yeah. I'm glad you like it, dad."
It's still a quiet dinner, their conversation a bit stilted but warming slightly as the minutes go by. He talks about some guy in sales that he hates at work, and about a reality show he's been guilt-watching lately. Ultimately, there's nothing special about this dinner on his end. But, to Lucy, she is waiting with bated breath. Her pussy is throbbing and untouched, just waiting for things to start happening.
By the time he finishes, he looks happy, leaning back into his chair and wiping his mouth. "Damn, that was tasty, Luce. Thanks for cooking; you should do it more often."
"I'm glad you think it was good, dad," she accepts the compliment easily. "If you like it so much, maybe I will cook more."
He volunteers to help wash up, assisting her as she gets the leftovers into containers, the plates and utensils into the dishwasher, and scrubbing down the various pots and pans she'd used in the process. Lucy has no idea how long the drugs will take to hit him, but she hopes it comes soon. She's so turned on that she feels like she'll soak right through her jeans before long.
"It was sun-dried tomatoes, wasn't it?" He blurts out in the middle of a mostly comfortable silence. "In the sauce. You used those instead of fresh ones, right? That's why it was so good?"
Those weren't the only special ingredient. "Ha, yeah, you got me, dad," she acknowledges. "I did."
He chuckles, low and fond. "I knew I'd figure it out eventually. You're not exactly some great culinary mind that…" He suddenly trails off.
"That what?" She prods. "Dad, you okay?"
"Y-yeah," he stammers. "Just, uh, I'm getting a headache, I think."
She pats his shoulder awkwardly. "Are you having another attack of vertigo or something?"
"Maybe," he grumbles. "I, uh, I think I'm just gonna go lie down for a bit. Hopefully, it goes away soon."
"Do you want some painkillers or something?"
He shakes his head. "Nah, I'm sure it'll pass. I just want a dim, quiet room with a bed."
"Let me know if I can help, okay?" Lucy makes sure to appear every bit the perfect daughter, as though she isn't the one causing this.
Her father moves toward the stairwell, swaying a bit as he grapples for the railing. "Help me upstairs, honey."
She does, holding onto his arm to prop him up just slightly as his dizziness gets worse and his muscle continue to weaken. "Bad bout, huh?"
"Yeah," he exhales, breathing a little heavy. "Just need to- to get in bed."
"We're almost there," she encourages, practically pulling him up the last two steps and beginning to drag him toward the master bedroom. "Just a bit further."
He grumbles something in response, leaning heavily against her and stumbling toward the open bedroom door.
Finally, the bed is within view, and her dad almost launches himself toward it, happily falling onto the mattress. "Just- just help me get up to the pillows. Then you can go do your- your homework."
She obliges, helping him drag his body further up until he can finally collapse against the pillows.
"Oh…that's better," he sighs out. He closes his eyes a moment later, happy to have some reprieve from whatever unpleasant feelings were rolling around inside of him from the drugs.
"You sure you don't want me to stay with you, dad?" Lucy perches on the edge of the bed, subtly rubbing her thighs together for some sort of friction as the anticipation starts to get to her more and more.
"N…." He starts to speak, but his voice fades. It only takes one look at him to see that he has now entirely passed out.
Her breathing grows heavier. He went down so easily. "D-dad?" She prods. "Are you awake?"
Nothing
She pokes at him a few times. Nothing.
The next few events happen so quickly and with such a rush that she's barely cognizant while she's doing them. She sprints to the garage, grabbing the cordage she needs, before running back up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Her father is still out cold when she returns, breathing steadily but without an ounce of movement. Fastening his wrist and ankles are easy: his limbs are just dead weight at this point, after all. Lucy's hands are shaking the entire time, veins racing with adrenaline as the thing she wants gets closer and closer.
He never stirs throughout the entire process. This is promising.
Finally, he's all tied up and still completely unconscious. This is her last chance to back out: to regain her sense of morality, of decency, of appropriate love for her father. She has one more moment to stop herself before she does something that she cannot take back.
But, her pussy is aching and her womb feels empty and her lust for her father is unending.
Lucy starts undressing, pulling off her little tank top, and her shorts, and her panties until she is standing completely bare before him. He's just…there, completely unable to push her away or shut her down or deny her any longer. She stares hungrily at his zipper, knowing his cock is finally within her grasp. She's watched him for years—unknown to him—and seen it a hundred times before because of it, but now she'll get the chance to actually touch it. She's so young, and it'll be the first one she's ever touched, too; he'll be her first and he'll be the one to take his daughter's virginity, even if he isn't aware of it. How special is that? Lucy thinks it's only right that a father is his daughter's first. So perverse by everyone else's standards, but it had all just come naturally to her.
She finally reaches out, hand shaking with excitement and nerves and begins to undo his belt: easy work. She pops his button next and is unable to wait even a second before she's tearing the zipper down, too. She has to move in order to get what she wants next, though, and she climbs up onto the bed with a bit of trepidation, anxious excitement turning her inside out as she straddles his thighs. They're strong and warm beneath her, and let her get a steady position as she goes to slightly shimmy down his waistband and give herself better access for what's to come. It isn't much, just a few inches, but now all that remains between her and the one thing she's been so badly craving for years is a pair of stereotypical plaid boxers: blue and green. Lucy swallows heavily and tugs.
It's strange looking when it's soft, honestly. He must be a grower, not a shower, because it's shorter than she's used to seeing it but, Jesus Christ, he's thick. Her mouth waters a bit at the sight, and she knows she's leaking from her cunt and ruining his pants. Lucy reaches out to touch it, feeling the velvety soft skin of the pink head, and she loses herself in her little explorations. She pokes and prods and strokes, feeling his heartbeat as some veins begin to pop out just slightly and it miraculously begins to fill out a bit in her hand. Subconsciously, she knows it's just his body reacting naturally, but she tells herself that it's because he knows, and he wants this: wants her. He's still more soft than hard, though, and that just won't do.
While she tends to think about him fucking her most often, she's thought about what it would feel like to be on her knees while he pushes his cock down her throat, and what better time to (sort of) do that than now?
Lucy crawls down his body to settle between his slightly-open legs, and his dick is a little intimidating so close to her face. She has no clue what she's doing but, hey, he isn't awake: it doesn't have to be good. She just has to get the job done, and something warm and wet should be enough to get him interested. She takes him back into her hand and hesitantly leans down to press her tongue against the slit.
It doesn't taste like much right now, just like salt and skin, and she goes ahead and opens her mouth to start to suck. It feels a bit weird, and she has to be careful with her teeth, but she keeps trying to take more of him. She only gets about three inches in her mouth before it starts to get a little uncomfortable, which she figures isn't all that bad for her first time, and just starts to slowly hollow her cheeks and move up and down. It's hardly the best blowjob—it's sloppy and she struggles—but slowly, she feels him start to respond. His cock goes from mostly limp to pushing up against her palette, growing thicker in her mouth and forcing her to pull back a bit as it gets longer, too. He eventually starts to leak precum, and it fills her mouth with a slightly salty taste that she doesn't hate as much as she thought she would.
She pulls back with a pop, a little breathless and a string of spit still connecting her lips to the tip of his dick for a moment before it slaps back against his stomach. It's far redder than it was when she started and it's twitching now, jumping at the thought of filling up a wet cunt. Now it looks more like what she's used to seeing when she spies on her parents, and it's intimidating when she wraps her fingers back around it again to give it a few experimental pumps. He must be eight or so inches long, and she worries for a minute if she'll be able to take him at all. She's small for her age and still a teenager, after all, and he might just tear her when she finally does it. It's so hot and throbbing in her hand, which can barely close around the girth, and she feels herself get even wetter as her body prepares to do what it was designed for.
"Fuck…I'm so excited, dad," she murmurs as she continues to slowly jerk him off. She still doesn't know what she's doing, but precum seems to be pretty continuously beading from his slit, so she must be doing something right. "You have no idea how long I've wanted you."
Lucy doesn't even need to touch herself to know how absolutely soaking wet she is. She thought about digging through her parents' nightstands to look for lube, but she can't believe she'd need it at this point. Her cunt is aching in anticipation and she doesn't think she's ever been this wet in her (admittedly short) life.
There's no real use in putting it off any longer. He's here, mind absent but his body willing, and she's here, ready to take. She props herself up on her knees, carefully scooting up his body so that she's positioned directly over his cock, the head pressed against her opening, and takes a deep breath.
This is wrong, something inside of her says. You're raping your father. This is wrong: stop this now. You shouldn't want this, or want to conceive your own sibling. You're sick if you go through with this. It's meant to be a last dying cry of her failing morality, but hearing it said so plainly only turns her on more, and she starts to drop down.
She'd been expecting some sort of blinding pain, like her minimal sex ed classes seemed to suggest last year, but all she feels is the sting of a stretch. He feels huge inside of her, even though she's only gotten the head in, and it makes her muscles clench on instinct and stop the entire process.
"Fuck!" She exhales, doing everything she can to slowly relax and force her body to acclimate to the new intrusion. She knew he was big and she knows her pussy can stretch far more than this, but it's a lot to get used to.
Finally, the stretch is still there, but it doesn't burn as much and she dares to let gravity do its job. Every single inch is a fight and feels like a mile, but after a long few moments, she settles with her father fully inside of her.
She's so full that it knocks the wind from her. Lucy feels like she's about to be torn in two, and she can feel the head of his dick jammed up against something inside and pressing hard, which has to be her cervix. She can barely fit him and the thought sends a shiver through her. He's so large and she's so small: just what you would expect from a father and his daughter. Her cunt spasms around him, struggling to handle being split open for the first time by something this big, but she's done it: the cock that made her is in her young body, only minutes away from the DNA she shares being pumped into her fertile womb.
God, it's everything she thought it would be and more.
Lucy doesn't think she's fully adjusted yet, but she's too horny to wait anymore, so she plants her hands on his chest and slowly rocks her hips back and forth. The friction feels incredible—between the cock rubbing directly against the sensitive nerves of her cervix and her clit grinding down onto his bare skin—and it makes any lingering discomfort easy to forget. "Oh, god…" she moans out, soft and struggling to hold back.
"You're so big, dad," she begins to ramble, as though he's there to listen to her, but makes sure it's hardly more than a whisper so as to not tempt fate. "No wonder mom wants to keep you to herself. Who wouldn't- wouldn't want this inside them? God, you must've been in demand when you were younger."
"I wish I could've met you then, too. I l-love you now, but maybe you would've been willing to do things to me th-then—ah!—and satisfy me," she starts to properly lift herself, just a few inches, before dropping back down on his cock. The fat head of it is scraping against something that lights her up with pleasure, and she shifts her angle to make sure he keeps rubbing against it. "But you can satisfy me now, too. I wish you were here to do it, but you have to understand: I needed this, dad."
Her excuses her ridiculous. She knows that there are multiple taboos being committed here: the rape, the fact he's fucking his child. There's no way this is right no matter how you look at this, but she can keep telling herself it is. "I needed you. I tried so hard to hold back, and I tried so hard to get you to do it yourself, but I couldn't wait anymore."
The timing of this is so unbearably perfect. Her mother's trip happened to overlap with when Lucy was ovulating, and she prays that this will be enough. If she's lucky and the pill holds out well, she figures that she can force a few loads into her womb before he's too aware for her to continue. And, if she's luckier still, she'll be able to pick up an early pregnancy test in two weeks and see the result she wants. She wishes she could just tie him down forever and ride him over and over and over again, every single day, until she knew he'd bred her. She won't tell him, of course. No, she'll wait until she's far enough along that he'll begin to notice, and he'll begin to ask questions. He can't legally force her to do anything if she winds up pregnant, and she doesn't care what the fallout is. She hungers to see the look on his face when she tells him that it's his child inside of her, and wants to know how he'll look at her every time he sees that her belly only continues to swell because of him. She knows some secret part of him will be happy that he gets the second kid he always wanted, and she hopes that some even more secret part of him will want more. Lucy presses one hand to her stomach, envisioning the whole future as she chases her pleasure.
She's been riding him for a few minutes—slowly, because she doesn't want this to be over too fast—when he starts to slightly stir. That part of her that wanted him to not wake up at all during this, just to see how long she could get away with it before his seed eventually took and she inevitably started to show, withers a little bit. Her heart rate skyrockets, too, at the idea of being caught. But, at the same time, Lucy wants to see the moment when her father realizes what's happening to him and who exactly is doing it to him.
He's still out of it, like the world is moving at half-speed around him, and he can't yet summon the energy to even open his eyes. The drugs had done a good job of muting his consciousness, but thankfully let his cock work just perfectly. He twitches a little beneath her, eyes moving beneath his lids in an imitation of REM sleep. His eyebrows draw together, and Lucy nearly loses it when he moans: soft and clearly unintentional. Odds are, he thinks this is all just a nice little dirty dream, and she needs to make sure to pace herself so that he has enough time to figure it out.
He sighs softly, head lolling to the side in clear contentment. "Natalie…"
Her mother's name? Now that will absolutely not do. She starts to roll her hips a little more, letting herself moan more freely now that he was at least a little bit conscious. Lucy is so turned on that it hurts, and wet enough as a result that every time she drops down on her father's dick, there's an audible squelch. She's never had sex before this, but this has to be the best it can get. It has to be.
"Oh…dad, you fill me up so good…"
He stills, his common sense clearly trying to fights its way through the chemical haze.
"You feel so good inside me, dad: like I was made for your cock."
He makes some noises of protest, heavily slurred, and struggles to get his eyes open. "L- Wh- I—"
Lucy stops properly riding him for a moment, too excited. She catches her breath and just grinds against him while he's seated deep inside. "Shh, shh, shh, it's okay, dad. Just let it happen: enjoy the feeling of your daughter's raw pussy. It feels good, doesn't it? I know it has to."
That seems to finally punch through, because he's trying to tug on the rope she'd use to tie him to the headboard. "N-no, Lu…St'p…"
"I think you mean "Yes, Lucy, more," don't you?" She can't help but laugh a little as she says it. "I can f-feel how hard you are inside me. You should've seen how quickly you started leaking for me as soon as I put you in my mouth. Your body told me everything I needed to know."
He tries to pull at the rope again, and manages to force his eyes open a sliver. "Can't help… th's 's wr'ng…"
"It doesn't feel wrong, does it?" She keeps increasing her pace and moaning more and more. "It feels so good, dad. I feel so good: you're perfect for me. You really made me for you, didn't you? I have to be better than mom, I just know it."
He's hazy, to say the least. Every movement he attempts is a monumental effort, and inevitably fails. Every tug on the ropes is hardly more than a twitch, every word is slurred, every movement inconsequential. "Luce, n-no."
She shakes her head. "I do, I know I feel good. I know you like this. I'm sorry I had to do this to you," she says it and she means it. "But you just weren't fucking listening to me. I tried to get you to see things my way, but you just kept refusing. You were too- too good of a guy or something."
"N-not a creep," he tries to rebut.
"You think with your dick, too," she laughs. "I saw how you looked at me. You wanted to fuck me, even if you didn't want to admit it. So I just made the choice for you, that's all."
He attempts to say something else, but his mouth isn't cooperating as much as it was a moment ago.
"It's a- a good choice, dad," she insists, pace getting even faster. "I've wanted you to fuck me for so long, and I hear the things you say to mom when you have sex. That you—ah!—that you want another kid, and she just won't give it to you. I can give it to you. I can give you everything you want; let me give you everything you want."
His struggles come to an abrupt halt as he processes what it is she's just said. It seems to hit him slowly, just like the reality of who was on his cock did, but the panic hits immediately after. He barely has control over his muscles, but he tries nonetheless to escape her now that he understands the deeper part of her intentions. "N-no! No…Luce…"
"Yes, dad," she sounds exuberant and she can feel how close she's getting. "Yes, you want that. I know you want that. All you want is to knock up your own wife, and she won't let you. She won't even let you cum inside. But I will: I'll be everything you need. I'm so fertile this week, and I just- I just know that if we try hard enough, we can get it to take. Don't you want that, dad? I can give you grandkids and another kid all at the same time."
He's started to cry. Not the ugly, sobbing kind, but tears are streaking down his temples. "Sto...p. Pl'se…" She hadn't expected it, but she thinks she might really like the fact that she's raping him. It didn't feel like a necessary evil: it felt like a turn-on.
His erection has flagged at all. Lucy can feel him twitching and pulsing inside of her, undoubtedly close to cumming, too. "Just listen to your body. You want this; you're still so hard, dad, even though you're telling me to stop. You're lying to yourself."
Every time she moves, the squelch of it sounds so obscene. She's moaning, and he's groaning despite himself through his quiet cries, and the bed creaks with every single thrust. There's just quiet between them for a while as she chases their pleasure, but after a short time, his crying gets a little more intense, seemingly out of nowhere.
"You're- you're going to cum, aren't you?" She asks, heart rate going through the roof and pussy pulsing around him subconsciously. "You're close. You're going to cum inside your teenage daughter's unprotected cunt soon, aren't you?"
Instead of answering, he just cries a little harder.
"You are, oh god, you are." Her thighs are burning from the effort, but that knot is growing tighter inside of her and she knows she's going to cum unbelievably hard when the time finally arrives. "You'll- you'll see that it feels good. You'll see that it's worth it. You'll see that I can give you what you want, dad!"
He manages to shake his head and finally gets a sentence out. "No, Lucy. Don' wan' this. Please, stop!"
"You do: you do want this. Come on, I want you to cum inside me, as deep as you can go. I want your cum in my womb, as many times as it takes. I want you to breed me, dad! Please, put a baby in me!"
Her father really must be a little fucked up too, because that does it for him. The moment she asks for it, demands it, he cums and he cums hard.
His whole body is shaking, his eyes roll back in his head, and his hips even manage to jerk a time or two as he pours rope after rope of hot cum into his daughter, pressed right up against her cervix. She can feel every bit of it, and it sets off her own orgasm, causing her to clamp down on him and help milk his dick for all it's worth. It seems to never end, wave after wave of sick pleasure slamming into her, and she doesn't want it to stop, so she doesn't.
She keeps on riding him through it all, even as he starts to make noises of greater protest, clearly overstimulated and in a little pain on top of resisting her. But, that doesn't matter: this is about her. She keeps on riding him for another ten or so minutes, forcing out two more orgasms from him in fairly quick succession. She doubts there's much left in the last one, but any bit of cum will help in her attempts to conceive. She still wants more, but she has another pill left, he's still tied up, and the night is young.
She's walking away from this with her own sibling in her womb one way or another.
…
In the end, she gets thirty-six hours between the two pills, him naturally falling asleep, and him still being too disoriented enough to give any serious pushback. He's conscious for almost all of it, as it seems his initial passing out was not the main side effect for him: no, that was the muscle weakness and the disorientation. Lucy can tell that he was hardly present for most of it and could barely move even when he was cognizant of what was going on. She lost count of how many loads she got from him, but if she had to guess, it would be a dozen. Whenever they would finish a round, she would lay down next to him and tilt her hips up, just like she'd read about online, in the hopes of increasing her chances of conception by every bit that she could. He would lay next to her, silent and disoriented but still judging, and refused her affection when he was able to.
It didn't matter, though. By the time he had regained his full faculties, Lucy leaned down right before going to undo his binds and whispered: "Say a word about this to mom, to the cops, to anyone, and I'll say you raped me. No one will believe your little fourteen-year-old waif of a daughter managed to do this."
He'd stiffened at that, but ultimately nodded, not meeting her gaze.
The next three days were painful. Lucy hardly saw him, and it was clear he was avoiding her. While she can't exactly say she blames him for that, it does still make her heart ache. She carries on with school, and makes her dinner (and leaves a plate out for him), and goes to bed every night loudly moaning for him as she relives what she'd done to him. She fantasizes about the way her skin will feel as a baby grows inside her, how her tits will finally get bigger, how she'll get that stupid "glow," and she cums to the thought of how her father will have been the one to do this to her. She needs to wait a few weeks before a test can pick anything up, but she knows. She just knows.
But, tonight is a little different. She's frantically rubbing her clit, legs spread without shame on top of her blankets as she remembers everything again, when she hears a door slam. Maybe her dad is just going from apathy to anger now in the fallout of what she did to him.
But, that idea gets tossed out the moment he flings open her door and strides toward her bed without a second of hesitation. "You did this to me," he sounds livid as he says it, but his eyes are welling up again. "You did this to me." Before she knows what's happening, he's fumbling to pull his rock-hard cock from his pajama pants and violently hilts himself inside of her with a single thrust. Her orgasm tears through her immediately.
He cums inside of her not that long after while she's begging for him to fill her, clearly turned on beyond belief, as his tears drip onto her face. He may have been crying still, but there's a look of shameful satisfaction on his face, however small.
This characterizes much of the remaining two days of her mother's business trip. He barges into her room both nights to fuck her; multiple times, he yanks down her shorts while she's washing the dishes so he can fuck her hard and fast right over the kitchen counter; in one memorable instance, he takes her on the ground in the back yard while she's pulling weeds, even though any inquisitive neighbor could have peaked over the fence and seen them. Every single time, he's crying and berating her for ruining him.
"I'm not a pedophile," he pleads as he's drilling into her their final night alone. "I don't want my daughter! I don't want to fuck you! You made me do this: you trapped me and you- you fucked me up. It's all your fault!" His pace is so rough and punishing, and she fucking loves it.
"You've chosen to- to put your cock inside your own daughter," she shoots back, hand searching out her clit to try and push herself over the edge a second time. "Four times today you've fucked me. And you fuck me so good, dad."
"Shut up," he hisses. His hold on her hips is so harsh that she knows it will bruise badly. "You've done enough. I didn't choose anything: you raped me, Lucy. You violated me. You're a criminal."
"And you loved it, and you've made yourself a criminal a hundred times over," she fires back. "You came every time. Cum again for me: knock me up. Please, dad, please breed me! Impregnate your own daughter with the cum that made her!"
Like always, he listens.
It's not a surprise. Of course it's not. Between that one week of nonstop raw sex and all the times afterward that the had snuck into her room or bent her over the dining table instead of eating breakfast, it's no wonder that the test she buys a few weeks later shows two little, perfect lines.
Lucy contemplates not telling him for a while. She worries that this thing she's seemingly unlocked in him—to the point where he can cum practically on command if she begs for him to breed her—will evaporate the second she confirms it's actually worked. Maybe the reality that his daughter is carrying his own incest baby, which she'll deliver before she even turns fifteen, will slam into him all at once and he'll suddenly find her disgusting. So, she considers simply waiting: waiting for the months to go by and for him to gradually notice the extra weight around her middle when he places his hand there before he cums and realizes that the skin is more stretched and rounded than it should be. But, then she'd feel guilty about not telling him, so she figures the best thing to do is to bite the bullet.
Thankfully, she does the test right before her mom's next convenient business trip, so she knows that no matter what the fallout is, she'll be able to confront it without the risk of interruption.
She doesn't bring it up for two days, allowing her dad to continue his guilt-ridden, horrifically horny quest to statutorily rape her over every single surface in the house for a little while. And Lucy's glad that she did, because there's one night where he holds her down so firmly and uses her so thoroughly that she cums four times before they're through. His ramblings are getting quieter, though, even though she can feel the anger and the resentment there with every single bruising thrust. He clearly hates himself for wanting her, but he's unable to stop now that he's had a taste of it. This is exactly what Lucy had wanted, and she managed it in the end.
Lying there, spent, cum with half of her DNA leaking from her cunt, she calls out to him before he leaves. "Dad? I want to tell you something." She uses that small voice, the one she used to use with him when she ran into her parents' room, shaking and afraid from a thunderstorm or a bad dream.
It stops him in his tracks, and he turns around, still trying to fit his perfect dick back into his boxers. He may not be convinced about her yet, but his face has softened. "Go ahead."
"You did it," she starts, hoping he'd get the hint. He unfortunately doesn't. So, she sits up and crawls toward him on the bed. "You put a baby in me, dad."
He freezes. Then, there's silence.
"Can- can you say something? Please?"
She can't read him at all. His expression is unrecognizable to her. Maybe she's just too young to understand. "You- you're—"
"Yeah," she interrupts gently, tone just on the verge of seductive if he wants to take it. "I'm pregnant. You're going to have a second kid, and it's going to be your grandkid, too."
He doesn't speak for a long, long time. "You're going to say it's some fling you had at a party, do you understand me?"
"Obviously. It'll be our little secret, right dad?" Lucy crawls closer, trailing her fingers up his arms as she wraps around him from behind. "Just something for us to know. I won't tell anybody, and you won't, either. And now that I'm pregnant, you can fuck me all you want without any risk."
"I hate you," he murmurs. "I hate you so much, Lucy." But he's pushing her back onto the bed and spreading her legs and pushing his rapidly-hardening cock back inside of her as she does it.
"No you don't," she gets out between moans. She grabs for one of his hands and brings it downwards so his palm can spread flat right on top of where her womb is. "You love me so much you bred me. You wouldn't even do that to your wife."
He knows it's true, but he doesn't say as much, fucking into her with a look of bliss on his face.
"And if you really hated me," she wants to drive the point home. "You wouldn't have ever even looked at me after what I did to you, but you came to me, dad. Don't—oh! Harder!—ever forget that."
...
And he doesn't forget it, because as the weeks and the months go by, he still comes to her with an expectant look that has her spreading her legs or dropping to her knees without a single word needed. He'll pump more cum into her as she begs for it and he strokes her swelling stomach, rambling about how he actually punished her by knocking her up, even though she wanted it all along. Lucy sees the looks he levies at her while she's walking around the house. Her mother, who had been devastated at the news, only stares at her with disappointment as her pregnant belly pushes against her once-loose shirts, but she can feel a simmering, lustful resentment from her father that always ends the same way.
She's just gotten home from school—which she'll be taking a leave from starting next week, as she's no longer able to effectively hide her particularly early teen pregnancy—and her father is standing in the foyer waiting for her, an opened envelope that she recognizes is from the ultrasound clinic.
"Oh, hey dad. You're not usually home for another hour. How was your—"
"Don't," he cuts her off before she even has time to put down her book bag. "We need to talk."
She just nods, making sure the door is dead-bolted behind her before turning back toward him.
"This is fucked up beyond repair." He doesn't elaborate, but he doesn't need to.
Lucy shifts a little in place, not quite sure what to do with that. "I don't think it is. I don't have any regrets about any of this."
"And that's fucked up, Lucy!" He exclaims. "How can you not see that?"
"I see it," she admits, hand coming to absentmindedly rest on her midsection. "But I don't agree with that way of seeing it. I think I love you unconditionally, and you love me unconditionally, and I just trusted my dad with other kinds of love, too. They're just unconventional."
He scoffs. "Unconventional? Lucy, what we've been doing is illegal on multiple counts. I could go to jail for the rest of my life for having sex with a minor, and have even more years heaped on for committing incest! This isn't just unconventional: it's wrong."
"Who cares?" She pushes. "I'm more than willing, and you clearly want it too. You practically fuck me every day."
That shuts him up for a minute.
"And you like it. You like fucking me, dad. You get harder when I yell out your name and you came every single time I begged for you to put a baby in me until you did just that," she continues. "You liked it when I walked around the house in my panties, and you liked it when you saw me in the shower, you liked it when you heard me touching myself in the room next door, and you liked it when I drugged you and tied you down and made you come to terms with it. You liked it so much that you still keep fucking me; you had me ride you just last night, in case you forgot."
He stares at her, long and hard. "Because you made me feel this way. Everything was fine until you started acting like this."
"If you didn't really want me, dad," she states. "It wouldn't have bothered you when I started acting out, and you would've shut me down immediately. Instead, you let me keep on going, and as soon as you'd had a taste of what my cunt felt like, you kept coming back for more. You made those choices because you wanted to make those choices."
She flicks her eyes down for all but a moment as he shifts on his feet, and she can see the slight outline of his hardening cock in his khakis.
"See? You're getting hard just talking about it, dad. You want me," Lucy takes a step toward him and, when he doesn't move, continues her approach. "You just needed permission to act on those desires, and I don't know how many more times I can say it."
She presses herself up against his trembling body, and makes sure to rub her baby bump against his growing hard-on. "Or how much more clearly I can say it: I'm giving you permission. I want you, I want the cock that made me, and I want you to fuck me whenever, wherever, or however you want. I love it when you do illegal things to me."
His heart is pounding against his rib cage—Lucy can feel it from here—and she can feel how his breath is stuttering. She can feel his dick twitch with every word.
"Come on, dad," she whispers, begging. "Just let it happen. You want to fuck your own kid, and you love the fact that you put her sister or her brother inside of her. You love that I'm carrying your baby, and I bet that once this one comes, all that you'll think about is giving me another one, and another one, and another one. Because you want the taboo, deep down inside: it turns you on more than anything else ever has."
Just like that, he snaps. He's absolutely pouncing on her, pressing her against the wall and doing everything he can to hike her skirt up so he can pull her panties aside and get to what he really wants.
"That's it, take me," she eggs him on, hooking one of her legs around his waist to give him an easier time. "Give me your cock. Please, dad, please! I've been thinking about it all day, just hoping that when I got home, you'd do this and make me feel good."
"You're a sick child, Lucy," he grunts out as he finally gets his fly open and pumps his cock a few times to make sure he's ready. "You're so sick, but I am too. Oh, fuck!"
He pushes inside of her, spearing her open, and they both moan in tandem. "Just like that, dad! Yes, fuck me, rape me, own me."
"I hated the way I looked at you," he confesses, already pounding into her and forcing her up the wall with every thrust. "For so many years, I hated myself. I thought there was something so wrong with me, so I did everything I could to not think about you like that. Buried everything and tried to just be satisfied with your mother."
"She wasn't enough, was she?" Lucy laughs, giddy with the rush of truth to her head. "You knew what you wanted, and you kept lying to yourself. Oh, dad, doesn't it feel so much better like this?"
"She wasn't," he spits, the slaps of their skin colliding filling the entire foyer. "It feels so much better like this. You feel so much better. Your cunt is so tight, like it's made for me; I made you just to take my cock and take my cum. God, Lucy, you're perfect."
"I was! Oh, god, I was! I was made for you. You feel so good," she cries out, already close. "Wish you'd been awake to see when you took my virginity. I thought you were tearing me in half, but I know now that you're perfect. You fill up every single inch of me, dad. Filled up my womb perfect, too."
"That's right," he grunts out, sweat beading on his forehead and sticking his salt-and-pepper hair to it. "Pumped you full of cum every single day. I wanted it to take so fucking badly. I hated myself for it, but I did; I wanted to see it. I wanted to see your little body struggle to carry my baby, wanted to see you change permanently all because of me. The second you said it, I couldn't help myself. It consumed my every waking thought: at work, driving, getting groceries, running errands, fucking your mother. I was always thinking about it, about you."
"And then you said you hated me when I told you."
"Didn't mean it. I didn't, Luce," he's so close to his breaking point, now. "I hated that I wanted it, and I hated that I was happy when you said it. Most of all, I hated that it turned me on. It was the hottest thing that's ever been said to me, and I didn't want to admit it."
"It's the hottest thing to me too, dad," she confesses. "I spent years getting off to the idea of- of carrying your child. I wanted nothing more than for you to knock me up. I'm so- so happy, and so fucking turned on, that you finally did it. You put a baby in your own baby girl."
"Gonna give you as much cum as you want. Whenever you want. I'll leave your mother, if it comes to it: I don't care anymore. Gonna fuck you every single day until you can't stand it anymore."
"And I'll take it!" Lucy's right on the edge. "You can do whatever you want to me: make love to me, rape me, I don't care! Just want my dad inside of me, trying to breed me again."
He cums with a shout, slamming her down onto his cock and making sure he gives her every last drop. It triggers her own orgasm, of course, and she clings onto him for dear life.
"I love you, dad," she gasps out as she does.
He makes a pleased sound at that. "I love you, Lucy. And I'll love your little sister, too."