Ted Leonard - Discipline for daughter

She felt her passion rise to that blinding peak again and again until she was weak and panting helplessly, thoroughly drained of pussy-cream. Hot, silky fluids oozed out of her cunt-channel and drenched her trembling fingers. Some juice seeped out and trickled down her curves to her asshole and thigh. It felt warm and safe.

She eased her soaked fingers out of her pussy and they found their way to her mouth as she lay panting for breath. Her ripe lips parted and she took her fingers into her mouth and licked at them sensuously as her hips writhed with the afterglow of pleasure. She remained in that position for a long time, breathing and sucking her fingers.

Afterwards, she rolled onto her back and stretched her long, lithe legs out under the blankets. She heaved a sigh that made her hardened tits rise and fall like two pyramids under the sheets. She felt good.

Once again the pleasurable feelings in her cummy cunt made her wish for things she didn't have – like a normal sex life. She almost wept with the pain of her sexy wishes. If only she could be like other girls, girls who had regular home lives, normal parents and could go out to get fucked in Lovers Lane. She wished she could be like those girls who had boyfriends, boys with nice stiff cocks who loved their girlfriends.

Marsha was not allowed to date boys. Her father was absolutely brutal about the way he threatened to punish her if he ever caught her with a boy. Punks, he called them, and he warned her often that if she ever gave her sweet pussy to a boy, he'd punish her by shoving his enormous prick up her virgin asshole! And Marsha had no doubt that he would do that to her. All she had to do was look at the immense size of his cock while he spoke and she knew he would carry out the threat.

A sound suddenly startled her out of her thoughts and dreams. Her eyes snapped open and her tits rose up. She felt like a trapped animal, wishing for someplace to hide as she pulled the covers up to her chin. She lay there cowering and shivering, her blue eyes bright with fear.

The door swung open and her father stood there, eyeing her. Marsha saw him weave slightly and he coughed. She could smell his boozy breath clear across the room.

Inwardly, she prayed frantically. Please, God, please don't let him! Not again! Not tonight! Please, please, make him go away!

For a second or two her father just weaved in the doorway, adjusting his vision to the semi-darkness. Then he staggered forward and stumbled at the side of her bed. He said nothing. His mouth was slack and his dirty breath polluted the air around the girl. Marsha shuddered. His lewd white face looked like a cold mask of inhuman lust.

The first time he'd fucked her, everything had happened so suddenly, so quickly that she could hardly believe it was reality rather the one of her wicked fantasies. She had been in bed, sobbing pitifully. Her mother had been dead only six months and the hurt had still been intense. Her father had heard her crying and slipped into her room to comfort her.

He'd been drinking. Marsha could smell it on his breath when he sat down on her bed. She hated it when he drank. It frightened her – especially now that her mother was no longer around to protect her.

"What's the matter, honey?" he had asked softly. "You miss your ma?"

"Yes, yes," she had sobbed. "Why did she have to die?"

Her father had leaned over and pulled her into his arms. It was a warm evening and Marsha was wearing her lightest nightie. It had slid from her shoulders when her dad pulled her up to him. His big hand had covered one tit and he had petted and caressed it. Marsha shuddered at the memory.

"Don't, Daddy, don't," she had rasped.

But her father's whiskey breath had quickened. She could feel it hot against, the smooth, creamy flesh of her naked shoulder.

"You're all I have now, Marsha," he had said hotly, rubbing her tit. "And I need you, baby. Your mother would want us to be nice to each other, darling. She'd like that."

His sweaty palm had mashed her firm, round tit. His other hand crept up between her thighs, his fingers reaching for her cunt.

"No, Daddy, don't!" she'd sobbed. "I don't like that!"

"You'll learn to like it with me, baby. I won't hurt you. Would I hurt my own daughter?"

He had pressed her down on the bed and pushed his pants down. Marsha had been too shocked to scream when she felt the enormous size and wetness of his cock touch her legs. She still couldn't believe it was truly happening to her. She had still loved him then, and trusted him to be kind and caring. It had seemed impossible that her own father was mouthing her cute little ear, squeezing her sensitive tit, and rubbing her unprotected cunt.

Marsha knew something about sex. She had taken sex education in school. But she hadn't taken it too seriously. Sex education seemed to be something for her and her girlfriends to titter about. Sex seemed funny and, dumb when she read about it in the textbooks. But there had been nothing to titter about as her father mauled her defenseless body and prodded it with his huge, wet prick.

He had been very drunk and very horny at the time. He climbed between her trembling legs and drove his aching cock up into her pussy. Nothing she had ever read or heard prepared her for the quick, lewd attack of her fresh body. It was horrifying and the pain blinded her. She had screamed then and tried to push his heavy body from her, but he was too big and too hot to move.

He had settled all of his weight on her body and drilled every solid inch of his horny cock into her weak and helpless cunt-hole, ripping right through her cherry. At the last, Marsha had given up the struggle and gone lax under him as he fucked her brutally and savagely. She could only close her eyes and pray that he would soon finish with her and end her torment and pain.

As he plunged his powerful prick into her juicy little twat he had mauled her tits and asscheeks in ways that had horrified her. But worst of all had been the way he had slobbered drool all over her all through the entire fuck.

"My precious daughter. My baby. Now you stop that crying, Marsha," he had muttered drunkenly. "A big girl like you shouldn't cry about a little loving. That's what we're doing, honey, loving one another. I need you, and you need me. You're my big girl now. Just hang on to your dad. I'll make you feel real good."

The pain had been so extreme that Marsha never knew when he stopped screwing her pussy. All she knew was that at a certain point, her father grew outrageously violent and started fucking his stiff cock roughly in and out of her cunt. He had slammed it into her brutally and then groaned horribly and trembled violently as his big cock jerked and jolted within her cunt-walls. She had known what that meant as he shot his jism into her.

She couldn't tell when his cock stopped gushing in her body. All she had known was that he suddenly crawled off her bruised, aching body and staggered out of the room.

Marsha had put her hands down to her crotch to massage her hurt, and they came away all sticky with come and red with blood. Even though the pain subsided, there was a feeling that remained. A feeling of forbidden pleasure so strong and so overwhelming that she couldn't shake it. She had tried very hard to shut out the good feelings that had crept through her pussy and belly and tits. She didn't want something so horrible and evil to have any good to it. It just couldn't have any good parts!

Yet she had lain there, not crying any more, just touching her furry little cunt and writhing her hips slowly, examining the feelings. Then, when she heard her father snoring loudly, she had padded naked into the bathroom and tried to wash away his memory. But she couldn't. She was able to wash off the blood and the come, but her father's whiskey smell had stayed with her, along with the memory of his stiff cock deep in her pussy. Then her father met a slut in a bar, Blanche Abbott, and for a while Marsha's tender pussy got a rest. Ralph Brennan brought the whore home to live with him and every night Marsha would hear them fucking wildly in his bedroom. Curious, Marsha would often creep to the door and watch her father fuck the shit out of the drunken, moaning bitch. It sometimes made her sick to watch them snort and grovel and come so violently together, humping and screwing and panting like animals on the sweaty bed. Marsha would listen to their talk as they fucked. To hear the woman screaming for more cock in her asshole was simply disgusting. A week later her father told her to call Blanche her stepmother. She had refused at first but then her father pulled her over his knee and spanked her bare ass until he got so hot he had to fuck her cunt. After that, Marsha obeyed him and called the slut her stepmother, even though the bitch cursed like a truck driver and used filthy words when she was horny.