Saving my Daughter

Dropping the mirror, she almost fainted. Her face was incomplete now, with clear evidence of the injury, the 'insults', that she had suffered.

Helen: "Who will love me now??" she said thru her tears. The registered nurse, a tough old bird who had seen it all, tried (in vain) to stifle her tears.

The hospital was in Frankfurt, Kentucky; I took a temporary long-stay hotel suite. After a few days, Helen was released from the hospital.

The hospital psychiatrist had instructed me to buy her clothes and accessories, plus anything else I could think of. For a brief moment that worked as she thrashed thru the Macy's boxes excitedly. It was good to see her happy, if only for a few minutes.

We had a nice dinner on the veranda of this lovely home converted into a small restaurant. Spring in Kentucky can be quite beautiful. My baby did not drink (as far as I knew) but I prevailed upon her to have some wine.

We returned to my hotel suite. You could literally feel how her mind was working. As we talked Helen held my hand. As she mentioned her marriage or the events surrounding it, she would squeeze my hand, sometimes painfully.

Finally, at some point in the evening, she was just exhausted, literally emotionally spent. I picked her up and carried her into her separate bedroom. I laid her on top of the bedspread, careful not to take advantage of her present state.

I turned out the light and started walking to the light from under the bedroom door. Just then, I heard her voice, asking/no begging me not to leave her alone. Strange, she was asking me to do what she had asked when she was a little girl, afraid of the demons of the dark. In a way, this was the same request.

I snuggled against her, both of us still in our clothes. In the still of the darkness, her voice appeared, asking me who would love her now. She kept on that 'mantra'. I had no choice, father or not father.

Slowly and lovingly, I began to undress my daughter. She asked what I was doing. I ignored her until she was nude. I had forgotten how gorgeous she was and was relieved that she was untouched besides the obvious harm done to her model's face.

Within a few moments I joined her in undress. I lovingly lay on my side and hugged her to me. I did not insert anything anywhere. I wanted this to be totally for her benefit under her control. Sure enough, we just lay together, hugging; for warmth and security, she held me tightly.

The next morning I was surprised. Looking down between us, I noticed that my manly ten inch cock was still hard (morning wood), but was buried halfway inside of her. I was worried that I had violated her in my sleep but then I noticed that her hand was around it and had guided me in. I pulled out my cock; her pussy lips had held it in a steel vise. It only emerged with an audible "POP!"

That was followed by a barely audible drip drip as my sperm-laden cum oozed out to drool down her satiny thighs before making the bed soaking wet. As I removed my cock, my still beautiful (in my eyes at least) daughter began to stir. She kissed and hugged me before jokingly apologizing for violating ME last night. No one in history was happier about being violated than this gentleman.

The next day when I was taking Helen to the hospital for some follow-up treatment, she noticed that I had a huge takeout carton of ribs, rice, beans, and four sodas. She asked me if I was having my own little picnic. I told her I was. I didn't have the heart to tell her what I was really up to.

As she was cared for by the wonderful staff of the hospital I was headed to the state penitentiary: A little matter of her ex-husband. The guards told me that I must really like this prisoner, whoever it was.

Well, you never saw anyone happier than the prisoner I met. Yes, it was from Helen's ex-husband's cell block, but no, it wasn't him. I had found out on line (amazing what you can find on line) his roommates and the fact that the prison didn't keep sign-in logs for visitors.

This food was for the burly black 'habitual' criminal in the same cell. He almost inhaled half the food before asking me who I was and what I wanted. Thinking we might be recorded, I just told him about the various crimes of his cellmate.

He looked at me in dead silence for fifteen seconds and then he understood. There was a strange code of honor, even among lifers. Prisoners who were guilty of certain despicable acts had to face justice within those walls.

As my baby and I watched TV back in the suite at the end of the day, I quickly changed channels when they produced a bulletin: dateline the state prison. Later, when she was fast asleep, I turned to the all-night Headline News and saw that there had been an 'incident' at the Kentucky prison I visited.

No one could explain how the prisoner ended up in the showers with a crudely made 'knife' in him. No one was talking and they never did solve it. I was suitably surprised that my daughter's ex-husband was the one found, just after my meeting with his cellmate. Odd coincidence...

When I took her back to that nice doctor, I noticed that he saw my daughter's beauty when no one else could. I also noticed that he was single and he had more than a passing interest in her.

Pulling him aside, I told him I wouldn't be offended if he asked his patient out, something doctors are generally reticent to do for a thousand reasons. He eventually did call, my daughter asked me what I thought; I gave consent and they became an item.

He tried a new procedure using contributed tissue from another part of her and, thank God, she was 99% back to her old ravishing beauty.

It was the happiest day of my life when I gave her away, a beautiful bride to a quiet, unassuming, but talented surgeon. I knew she'd be okay now and that was all that mattered. Her children, my grandchildren, would see their mom as the beautiful undamaged flower that she had been, forever unaware of the time when she was less than perfect.

Now finally I could take rest from caring for my baby, the love of my life. She was in good hands now. As I left, she promised to use cell phone, iPhone, and Twitter to keep in touch. Sure, sure, just like before I thought.

Well, every day I DID get to speak to my darling daughter. I saw the birth (live!) of my grandchildren, all of their birthdays, and every other significant event when I couldn't fly out there. Helen convinced me to have one final ceremony for her mom and then thereafter only celebrate her (Helen's) birthday on that date. That's what we did live on-line.

Helen always asked me why I didn't just sell my business and move closer to her. For months I couldn't be sure so I just told her that the business climate was such I couldn't find a buyer.

The truth was I prayed that Julie would eventually break down and want to marry the father of her twins. Well, my patience was rewarded. In one month, I had sold the business and arranged to have my own 'old Kentucky home'. Best of all, I would now be able to invite Helen to MY wedding...