Bad Deal Ch. 02

I was literally pushed out of the bed until I was on the carpet. Vanessa, toting the coiled belt per her father's instructions, took my place on the mattress. Our eyes met; my girlfriend looked pensive. Her hair had been lassoed into two high ponytails, youthfully reminiscent of her high school gymnastics era, ready for her father to fuck her a second time. She got on all fours as well, handing the belt to him, lowering her shoulders and raising her ass to receive her penance, for lack of a better term, to be carried out for over a decade's worth of crimes against modesty, decency and morality.

Her father, his roving semaphore sparkling with my pussy dew, retreated off the bed to guarantee a good swing at Vanessa's beautiful, waiting cheeks. With the black leather strap partially uncoiled, he began a quickly paced flogging of his daughter's buttocks, his countenance one of concentration.

My girlfriend - not predisposed to being spanked or flogged - cried out, winced, and flutter-kicked her feet, then rubbed them against each other in angst. Her face, despite her tan, turned a shade of red. I shuffled over to her on my knees and pried her hands from their tight grip on the sheets and held them. I took in the wonderful scent of her hair as she buried her jaw in the crook of my neck; her body jumped with each strike. Her Papa had removed his shirt to reveal the chevron-like pattern - a personal favorite- of dark hair covering his tanned chest and stomach. Of course I had seen it before, but now, the enhanced view with his protruding scarlet tool below, made the recent loss of his penile attention even more maddening.

Her father claimed she was receiving extra lashes for laughing at my earlier joke - I knew their collusion during my ass whipping was short lived. I didn't enjoy seeing her hurt, despite the pain, emotional as well as physical, she had caused me over the years. Vanessa, perspiring and sobbing when he declared he was done, thanked him through her sniffles for the flogging and vilely begged for him to fuck her.

Tony made his crying, horny princess beg for a minute or so, clearly stating her wishes using vulgar anatomical references, and identifying herself as his 'nasty slut daughter', and making her repeat both their names, including surnames. The bizarre ceremony was apparently intended to emphasize the familial nature of what was about to happen; it actually seemed to inflame her desire, as Vanessa's tone was nearly euphoric on the final repetition.

Finally her Papa hopped on the mattress and shoved his demanding organ into her with a grunt. After only a couple dozen powerful thrusts or so he suddenly retrieved the waiting belt from the sheet and lashed his daughter's bare back diagonally. Caught by surprise, Vanessa interrupted her heavy breathing and joyous guttural moans with an ear-piercing shriek. Her Papa didn't waiver as he kept up his angry cock's onslaught, as if he was trying to fuck and beat his daughter's twisted lust for him right out of her body, to cure her of a possession. The application of the belt wasn't frequent, but incendiary when it did occur. Her vocal responses to the exorcizing strikes ranged from soft groans to wailing, sobbing outcries, somewhat similar to the dramatic soprano aria that now emanated from the house's sound system. Still, Vanessa continued to take her father's pounding cock, every plump inch, as long as it was offered, along with the sadistic lashes.

After several more minutes of slamming into his tearful daughter's pussy, Tony suddenly halted his motion, but kept his dick implanted inside her. He reached out with his left hand, pulling Vanessa's sweaty, shimmering torso nearly vertical by a ponytail, making her tender, frontal flesh vulnerable .

No longer needing her arms for balance, she reached down and began frantically rubbing her clit, breathing loudly and erratically. My girlfriend then yelped repeatedly like a frightened puppy as her grunting father rapidly flogged her stomach, pelvis and helpless breasts. I watched with a combination of jealousy and pity as the strikes sailed across her body from armpit to thigh.

Within seconds, Vanessa's beautiful torso looked like a large Japanese alphabet character had been written across it in pale red ink. Tony harshly yanked and gyrated her nipples, then, in one of the most cruel gestures I had seen, he forced his daughter's hand away from her clitoral massage, and began belt strikes moderately between her thighs. Desperate cries and groans toward the ceiling from her contorted face ensued, but soon the dark-haired beauty, clutched from behind by her Papa's large, U.S. Navy eagle-tattooed forearm while her vagina likewise grasped his cock, screamed and convulsed from the longest orgasm I had ever seen her have, still to this day.

Vanessa sobbed loudly as she was released and fell forward, her trembling arms unable to hold her shoulders off the bed. Her finger did manage to find its way back to her clit. The faucet of tears and shuddering, groaning climaxes continued as Tony fucked her another ten minutes or so, then grunted loudly and with contempt as his fluid was unleashed, raining all over her lower back. The third incestuous encounter, a brutal 'belt fuck' as they came to be called, was over. Tony simply dismounted and left the room silently amid breathless praise and thanks from his tearful daughter.

With gathered fingers I began to garner the viscous prize Vanessa sought off her tanned back. There was no ovum to fertilize this night; her father's spermatozoa would have to be content surfing on our tongues and swimming about in our stomachs as we shared them during several long, deliberate kisses.

A Couple Hours Later

About three that morning, I was awakened in the dark by Tony yanking the sheet off me as I slept next to Vanessa - who, in pain, remorseful, and aided by a Percoset, had cried herself to sleep in my arms. He fondled my breast as the remnant of a warm, stale Martini was poured into my mouth and Tony - already hard, I could see in the dim light - was apparently enamored with wee hour, surprise fucks and not phased by his daughter asleep next to me - plunged his tongue into my mouth. Despite his gin and cigar breath, I was flattered. Still naked and still genitally sopping from the previous activity, I whispered "Yes! Please sir, thank you sir,' as I instinctively spread my thighs.

This essay is about primarily about Vanessa and her father, but I will say Tony and I meshed like two well-greased gears; even without the whole angry incest angle, the guy was a fifty-two year old sex machine. This time there was no belt, although I wouldn't have shied away from a little punishment of the insistent pussy that barely let me fall asleep. After a few exhilarating face slaps I settled in and clung to his stout neck shoulders as best I could for a nice, long, thigh-bruising missionary fuck. He was relentless, and his dick felt like a concrete post inside me. Our eyes met frequently and I had always been fond of him, and initiated lots of open, salivary kisses. At one point the king size mattress was nearly bouncing airborne off the box spring, and Vanessa stirred and kicked at us, yelling something undecipherable.

Tony solved the problem by pulling out and deftly scooping me up - I'm only a shade over one-twenty - and draping me face down over the back of an overstuffed, upholstered chair. As his onslaught resumed from the rear, I was allowed to rub myself to a few dizzying, juicy orgasms - the stains in the fabric were discovered later - as his strong hands harshly kneaded and pinched my still-stinging breasts and nipples. His solidified muscle skillfully tenderized my finally-happy vagina, and soon he precipitously splattered my derriere with his semen - both his women for the weekend had undergone a tubal ligation, but he took no chances.

My girlfriend's father praised me as 'a good little cheap slut' before pulling me by the scalp off the chair back and toward the room's sliding glass door. Once past the threshold I was released and pirouetted clumsily onto the breezy deck and sat, uncomfortably planting my freshly creamed but inflamed buttocks onto the worn wood at his command. Instinctively I opened my thighs and my jaw to receive his ad hoc parting gift, an acrid stream of gin-infused urine - Tony rejoiced that he had wanted to 'piss all over' me for years. Still, reveling in yet another submissive moment, I breathlessly thanked him for fucking me as his heated bodily waste began to make trails down my torso, its salinity accosting my palate and burning my welts and battered labia in the tepid night air.

The Next Morning

I awoke after nine, exquisitely sore, especially down below. The room was empty of Vanessa, and Tony slept elsewhere of course. It wasn't a surprise that those two didn't want to awake to face each other in bed, although that would eventually change.

It was another sunny beach worthy day, although I wasn't sure how the pinkish stripes peeking out from beneath my swimsuit would be interpreted by the viewing public. After my girlfriend's 'My God, my God, I can't believe I'm doing this' sobbing revelations before she slept last night, I doubted any more sex would occur this day. If the group even remained intact, we would probably all just get something to eat and head for home, I assumed. I could hear some quiet conversation downstairs, and better yet, smelled coffee.

Having previously showered after Tony's strenuous but wonderful surprise visit last night, I emptied my bladder, took some Tylenol and threw on a t-shirt - exactly half of the outfit I planned to wear on the three-hour drive home. Sloppy but comfortable shorts and tops were mandatory when tight elastic waistbands and bra straps were not welcome across my welted flesh. Those at the restaurant or gas station who would stare due to the destabilized breasts beneath my shirt, have at it - a glimpse of my occasional high school-era immodesty.

I walked out onto the gallery walkway, which, due to a vaulted ceiling, overlooks the house's great room and kitchen. There are huge windows, and something outside by the pool caught my eye. It was a wet black bikini draped over a wood railing, recently worn, dripping into the puddle beneath it. As usual, any lucky neighbors may have gotten an eye full of Vanessa as she dried off, wrapped the towel around her and then removed the bikini from beneath it, a precarious sequence not always followed by either of us.

A trail of reflective footprints led to the kitchen, where I saw my girlfriend on her back on the marble surface of the center island, lying naked on top of the aforementioned towel. Her long, dark wavy hair was simply stunning wet. Unkempt and wild, its sparkling, naturally curled lower fringes surrounded but yielded to her projecting nipples. Smiling, gasping Vanessa's tanned legs were raised and spread, knees bent. Once again I was wrong about her appetite for her father, despite the post-coital remorse.

The reason for such a juxtaposition was Tony, who had not gone swimming, but was still experiencing the pool to a degree. His boxers were bulging staunchly in the front as he was bent down and thirstily lapping the chlorinated water out of his daughter's pussy. She was sitting up enough that she had a hand in his slightly graying, thinning hair, caressing his scalp. I almost spoke aloud about their insatiability; holy shit, it was nine thirteen in the morning and they were at it again. There was a nearly full pot of coffee under the cabinet and half eaten bagels near my girlfriend's head. But I decided to back away, not wanting to interrupt their moment. Silently, I committed to caffeine withdrawal and laid down on the carpet on my stomach to watch the show undetected from between the balcony railing balusters. I would confess my voyeurism at another time, hoping now to enjoy the sheer magnificence of another one of their fucks. I would not be disappointed.

Over the next half hour, and to my surprise, I soon discovered something else about Tony - he wasn't all anger and leather belts. He was still in charge of his female, to be sure, and some insults, ass, breast and vulva slapping occurred. But, overall, at least initially, father and daughter had a long, ardent, gratifying, hot, tasty fuck. I can't think of any other words to describe the lingering deep kisses, the tight, grinding embraces, mutual looks of satisfaction and celebration, or the growing intensity of their rhythmic motions. Their synchronicity as they switched positions - they were creatively all over the great room furniture in any of a half dozen stances - seemed almost scripted. I had never seen Vanessa enjoy being fucked by a man so much. Their perspiring bodies - hers still bore the pink marks of his belt, lest she forget - were almost glowing in the sunlight. When they both faced the same direction, their similar facial features, culled from their Mediterranean ancestors, emphasized the forbidden, incestuous, absolute sinfulness of this enthusiastic mating. Their guttural, abstract vocal expressions grew more intense, and soon my girlfriend was wailing and gasping with a loud orgasm as her father twisted and stretched her nipples from behind, rubbing her clitoris. Her Papa then set to work on a test of his daughter's limits once more.

Tony hoisted up out-of-breath Vanessa's limp, sweaty body from his position behind and poured her - more or less - face down onto the sofa. He left the room but soon and returned. From my vantage point it was suddenly clear that some of the margarine from the kitchen island would not reach the intended bagels, or even see the light of day much longer as it coated his swaying cock.

Unaware of the purpose of their brief separation, my fatigued girlfriend tried to raise her hips to present her vanquished genitals once more to her chosen conqueror, but her efforts were reversed by a hand on her lower back. Her father's intent suddenly became clear.

"Papa! No!" A shocked Vanessa wailed in vain, as Tony's pelvis hovered over her beautiful but pink-striped ass cheeks.

Still pinning her to the sofa, I watched Tony's ass descend as he apparently began to press into her aperture, without so much as a verbal preamble or reconnoitering finger.

"I don't do this God damn it! Papa! Papa...please..." Her voice cracked as her tone rapidly shrank from demanding to pleading.

A loud female grunt and a scream worthy of a drive-in horror movie echoed off the ceiling as his thick, buttered cock descended into his squirming daughter's rectum. Vanessa's arms flailed, her eyes watered and face contorted as she began to sob loudly. She wasn't lying - Princess Vanessa didn't do anal anything, maybe an occasional finger of mine, and here she was with her father's fat, stiff dick rudely pushing her sphincter open, way past its comfort zone.

Tony moaned and cursed with a surprised note, probably at the level of resistance encircling his erection. He slowly, almost gently, lowered his hips further to meet her quaking cheeks as his daughter sobbed erratically, nearly hyperventilating, now tightly gripping the edges of the sofa's leather seat cushions. He didn't move right away, possibly from compassion or more likely cruelty, making her wait for the outbound stroke, a motion that would agonizingly drag the reluctantly yielding ring of muscles in the opposite direction. I was quite jealous at that moment, imagining his full weight on me with that baked potato dick - okay I'm exaggerating - of his in my ass.

"Please stop Papa! Please!"

"Shutup Vanessa Marie! Do I have to go get my belt?" He yelled paternally through gritted teeth into her ear. "Do I?"

"No."

"No what?"

"No sir."

"Are you a nasty whore?"

"Yes sir." She wiped the snot from her upper lip with her palm, and flung it onto the rug with only partial success.

"Are you also my little girl?"

"Yes Papa." her nose was clogged, altering her voice, as did her short breath and grunting reaction to what I believe was the first cock ever in her ass - she refused access to her ex, and once punched a guy in the mouth that had tried it back in our younger group fuck days. I'd wager she was saving her final frontier for Tony.

"What does that make you?" he quizzed, evidently referring to an earlier conversation.

"A slut daughter and the worst possible kind of whore."

"And what do I do to the worst, nastiest slut whores?"

"You fuh.." she stuttered, "fuck them in the ass."

"Aren't you gonna thank me for fucking you in the ass?"

It was very strange seeing her on the receiving end of such an exchange, as it was usually me making the admissions of nastiness and begging for abuse. Over the next several minutes, sniffling Vanessa indeed thanked her father multiple times for the rectal and biological discomfort she was experiencing.

Soon sweating like she had run several miles in the summer heat, Vanessa cursed, sobbed and occasionally shrieked - but kept thanking her father as he insulted and slowly buttfucked her. Gradually Tony shortened the timing of his cycle, almost to a 'normal' sex pace, and Vanessa began to groan loudly and erratically. Her fingers once again found her clitoris, and soon her cursing father was expelling his sperm into her colon. Tony remained on top of and inside her as Vanessa wailed with pleasure and agony, her torso stiffening intermittently beneath his. Gradually the room fell silent, except for the labored breath of their glistening, naked bodies. This was the first time Tony remained with her afterward.

I couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind as he laid on top of his daughter. Did he feel blessed or damned, having created such a beautiful creature that obsessively craved his carnal attention?

He eventually hoisted himself up and away. It was my instinct to go and comfort her, but the timing would have exposed my voyeurism. To my surprise, Tony returned to the room after a toilet flush down the hall, deflated but victorious cock swinging, carrying a folded damp towel to soothe her rectum and absorb anything that might percolate out. He produced a glass of water and a couple pills and squatted down by her puffy, red face - she understandably hadn't altered her position on the couch yet.. She took the pills - assuredly painkillers as he gently dragged the towel between her marked butt cheeks. Welcome to the striped, sore ass club, your highness, I thought. Tony kissed her on the lips sweetly and stroked her face and hair as she sniffled. The stocky tough guy told her he loved her more than anything. A wide smile spread across her lips. It brought me to tears.

I went back to bed and surreptitiously masturbated. Who could resist after watching such a long, wonderful fuck?

That afternoon in the solitude of the drive home I realized that these two had been absolutely in love for years, so much so that it finally breeched the wall of accepted father-daughter morals and gushed into primal, animal lust. It was only a matter of time, an inevitability that they would fuck and fuck and fuck and fuck. And damn, did they ever.