Schoolgirl Uniform; Jenny Ch. 02

This story involves the forced – yet ultimately embraced – sex between a father and daughter. If you do not like these types of stories... please move on to something you do like. However if such stories are something you appreciate – realizing they are mere fiction and fantasy – please enjoy.

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Jenny lay where her daddy had left her; atop her bed with her legs hanging over the edge and her feet dangling. The only pieces of her clothing that weren't in disarray or destroyed were her black shoes and white, knee-high socks. Her school uniform's skirt was piled up around her waist, exposing her torn white panties and wet, used sex with its glistening pink lips. Her white blouse lay open, her destroyed bra letting her full B-cup breasts roll free upon her chest with her breaths. Her naturally beautiful features were flush as she lay there, absently nibbling at her lip.

Her father had told her not to move, so she didn't. Except to wipe at a few tears slipping from her dark eyes to run down her cheeks.

Her body might have been still, but her mind was not.

It kept thinking about what had happened . . . trying to understand it . . . and what it all meant going forward.

After she'd been caught giving a boy head at school, her father had been summoned from work and told of her indiscretion. He'd been upset. Which he had a right to be.

And he'd spanked her.

All of that made sense. Even if she didn't like it.

But what didn't make sense was how her body had responded to the spanking . . . and how her father had reacted.

She'd gotten aroused. Her panties had grown wet.

And he'd fucked her.

Not only had he fucked her, he'd done so with primal, animalistic passion. He'd taken her forcibly . . . taken her for his pleasure. All the while calling her filthy, obscene names.

And she'd loved it. She'd had her strongest orgasm ever, her body writhing and thrashing in rapturous ecstasy like never before.

True, at barely eighteen, she hadn't had a lot of orgasms. But she knew the difference between what usually happened with the boys from school and what had with her father.

She hadn't wanted it . . . had tried denying her body's desire . . . its craving to have him inside her. Her mind had reeled with the taboo of it . . . the impropriety of it. Or so she'd told herself at the time. But recalling how she'd responded, she started to question her conviction.

She had no idea how long she laid there thinking about this, only that her legs were starting to fall asleep before she heard his footsteps coming down the hall. Then he was in her room, a bottle of whiskey in one hand, two glasses in the other. Still in his slacks and open dress shirt, he smiled when he saw that she was right where he'd left her.

"You need to use the bathroom?" He asked.

Looking up, Jenny meekly nodded.

"Go." He jerked his head in the direction of the doorway and the hall bathroom.

Climbing off the bed, she headed across the room on weak legs. In the bathroom she considered removing her torn panties. But he hadn't told her she could, so she decided to leave them on. Looking in the mirror, she saw that her tears had messed up her eyeshadow and a few hairs had come loose from her long braids.

Returning to her room, she found him standing near her dresser. He'd set the bottle on it and held a glass in each hand, a couple fingers of amber liquid in both.

"Considering everything, I think you should now drink in front of me, instead of behind my back," he said, offering her one of the glasses.

He knows? Her eyes grew wide with surprise.

"Yes, Jenny, I know you've been takin' some of my whiskey," he grinned. "It wasn't much, so it wasn't a big deal, I figured it was just a part of bein' eighteen. I've also known about... the other things. Not specifics, just that you were sexually active. I also figured that was just part of bein' eighteen. Obviously it was a little more... elaborate than I thought. I just hope I didn't misjudge the drinking too." He raised a curious eyebrow at her.

"No, Daddy. It was just a few sips here and there," she told him with a shake of her head. "A couple of beers when I was out with some of the..." She let the sentence trail off, not wanting to mention who she'd been out with.

"Well, like I said," he lifted his glass in a salute, then put it to his lips and took a sip.

Jenny did the same.

They stood in silence for a few minutes, sipping at their drinks and looking at one another. Having reverted to being his mindful daughter, Jenny stood directly in front of him, with her eyes raised. Yet she was finding that standing before him in her disheveled clothes made it difficult to meet his gaze directly. The wrinkled skirt had fallen to hide her torn panties, but she could feel the loose material brushing against her inner thigh, and she was conscious of the way the destroyed cups of her bra left her breasts on display.

Finishing his drink, he set his glass on the dresser. With a look and a movement of his head he indicated that she was to do the same.

Jenny's mind shifted into overdrive, wondering what his next intentions were. And while it screamed with objections to what she suspected, her body tingled with the possibilities. The inner turmoil made her hand shake slightly as she obediently finished her drink and added the empty glass to the dresser.

"So, you like giving head, do ya," he said, removing his shirt and tossing it aside.

It wasn't a question.

"Daddy, I–," she started. Although she wasn't sure what she would say, she now believed she knew his intentions and the inner turmoil escalated. She enjoyed sucking cock . . . the sensation of a rigid shaft sliding along her lips, caressing the little nerve-endings. And the thought of pleasuring him with her mouth intensified the excited tingles racing along her nerves while her mind simultaneously asserted its protest, reminding her that daughters weren't supposed to do that for their fathers.

"Quiet," he interrupted her, his voice low and unyielding. "I wanna see just how good you are at suckin' cock, so get on your knees... Slut."

Frozen by the inner struggle, Jenny's fingers fidgeted with her skirt's hem.

"I said 'on your knees, Slut.' It's time for you to suck your daddy's cock," he growled, his hand snapping out to grab her arm and jerk her downward.

"Daddy, no," she nearly yelped as she was forced to her knees before him. Staring at the outline of his cock beneath his clothes sent a warmth flowing through her to tease the smoldering embers within her loins and she unconsciously licked her lips. But her mind continued its objections, momentarily overriding her body's desire and she raised her dark eyes to his, silently pleading with him not to make her do this.

"Undo my pants," he told her, ignoring the plea.

Jenny timidly raised her shaking hands to his belt and pulled it loose. Then her fingers fought with themselves as she undid the button and pulled the zipper down.

He hadn't bothered with his underwear after fucking her and his flaccid cock popped into view as his loosened slacks fell free. Its appearance caused Jenny's breath to catch . . . tropical breezes to waft through loins . . . fan her embers . . . stir her arousal.

But it's Daddy's cock, her mind whimpered, trying to squelch the emotion.

Pulling his feet from the pants, he kicked them aside then stood still. Staring at his dangling cock she saw his fingers flexing in her peripheral vision. Raising her eyes to his, she saw him gazing down at her on her knees before him, his eyes dancing. Again her mind tried silently pleading with him. And again, it was obviously in vain.

Dropping her gaze back to his manhood, she timidly raised her still shaking hands.

"No," he stopped her. "Don't use your hands. Only your mouth."

She looked back up at him, trying to figure out what he meant. It took her a moment, but she thought she had an idea of what he was demanding and while she'd never done it before, she knew she had to try. Resting her hands on his thighs, she leaned in and down, bringing her mouth under his cockhead. Looking up at him, she lifted her mouth onto a portion of him . . . closed her lips around the soft shaft. Straightening back up, she suckled on this portion and rolled her tongue over his flesh. As her attentions caused the member to grow stiffer, she slid her lips back and forth along it slightly.

While Jenny told herself she wasn't that promiscuous . . . that she hadn't sucked a lot of cocks . . . she knew what they tasted like. And his tasted different. There was another musky-sweet flavor mixing with his.

"How do you like the taste of yourself, Slut?" He asked, solving the mystery.

Oh my God! The thought ricocheted through her mind and steamy waves flowed through her body. It was her own juices she was tasting. From when he'd fucked her. The realization made her feel dirty . . . made her feel like the things he'd been calling her.

His cock soon grew fully rigid, its thick shaft straining against her lips as it stuffed her mouth. Working her lips back and forth along him, she rolled her tongue over his flesh and suckled, her hands on his thighs helping to steady her. Staring up at his smiling face through the tops of her eyes she saw his hands reach out to cradle her head.

"That's good, Slut. Suck Daddy's cock," he sighed. "Suck it like a good lil' whore."

Electricity raced along Jenny's nerves and her embers began to sizzle and snap as the tropical breezes fanned them. Her mind reeled with the idea that she was kneeling there, in her bedroom, pleasuring her father with her mouth. That it was her daddy's rigid shaft sliding along her lips . . . caressing them . . . stroking along the little nerve-endings. And it was her own juices she tasted mixing with his flesh and drops of precum.

"Mmm," she mewled, her flesh starting to simmer with the heat from her embers.

"The slut likes suckin' Daddy's cock," he breathed, his fingers tightening their hold.

Despite her body's building arousal, her mind wouldn't be silent. It continued raging about the impropriety of what they were doing . . . the taboo of it . . . the idea that they shouldn't be doing this . . . and especially that she shouldn't be enjoying it so much.

But they were . . .

And she was . . .

She was growing hot with the feel of his cock in her mouth . . . sliding along her lips. Her body was simmering and her sex was growing damp with her juices.

"Suck it, you lil' whore. Suck your daddy's cock." Taking control, he started pushing and pulling her on and off his cock . . . using her how he wanted . . . using her mouth to fuck him.

"Mmm. Mmm," she whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes as his cockhead brushed at the entrance to her throat with each insertion, forcing her to repress her gag reflex. The fear that he'd make her deep throat him screamed through her, dampening her embers. She'd tried doing that a couple times, but it was difficult and she'd never actually managed it . . . not without negative effects. And she now knew that his cock was bigger than any of the others, so she was certain she wouldn't be able to . . . even though he was in a position to force her.

But then he suddenly yanked her mouth off him.

Kneeling there, her head still in his grasp, she raised her questioning eyes to his.

"Get up and bend over the bed, Slut," he ordered.

He's gonna fuck me again! The thought fanned her embers, causing them to regain some of the heat they'd lost even as her mind screamed in protest.

"No, Daddy. We-We sh-shouldn't," she whispered, unsure if she meant it.

"Maybe we shouldn't. But we're gonna," he growled, his hand grabbing her arm and pulling her to her feet. "Now get over there."

Her legs barely supported her as she was spun around and shoved toward the bed. Stumbling over to it, a whimper escaped her lips as she fell across the bed with her arms stretched out before her and her tits mashed into the mattress. With her face laying on its side, one braid laying across her cheek, she watched him move up behind her.

"Daddy, no," she whimpered, her mind still protesting.

Ignoring her, he lifted her skirt out of the way onto her back and cupped one of her asscheeks, giving it a deliberate squeeze.

"Daddy," she breathed, the contact sending more tropical breezes wafting through her.

"Spread your legs, Slut," he ordered, using a foot to push each shoe across the carpet.

"Please," she whimpered even as she obediently did as told.

"Now, let's get these out of the way," he snarled, grabbing her panties and ripping the lone remaining-intact side seam so that they were now in two halves, the front half hanging down. Stuffing the back half up under the waistband of her skirt to keep it out of the way, he reached between her legs and slid two fingers through her slit.

"No, Daddy. No," she nearly cried, fighting the urge to press herself back at the digits.

"Don't act like you don't want it, Slut. You know you do," he told her, the fingers brushing past her opening to move up to her clit and massage it.

"Ooh!" She gasped, electricity shooting through the little bud to make her hips twitch.

Sliding his fingers back and forth, he played in her wetness . . . brushed the tips over her opening . . . rubbed her clit.

Bent over the bed with her bared ass in the air and her legs spread, the argument between Jenny's mind and body grew louder and louder. His fingers playing in her pussy made her body pulse with desire, her embers sparking and snapping excitedly as warm gusts of air rolled through her to fan them. The fact that it was her father's fingers made her mind scream in opposition to her body's desire. The two factions tore at her, caused her to whimper and gasp as one side, then the other, took the lead.

Eventually the fingers settled at her opening . . . applied pressure . . . forced their way into her to hook downward and massage her inner wall.

"Ooh," she moaned, unable to stop her ass from rolling as her embers became red-hot coals of desire.

"You are a horny lil' one, aren't ya," he chuckled, his fingers rubbing.

Her mind wanted her to disagree . . . wanted her to disavow her body's desire. But she didn't trust herself, so she remained quiet, biting at her lip and closing her eyes. Yet she couldn't suppress a sad whimper from escaping her as he withdrew his fingers moments later.

His hand came up to her waist, his fingers clenching. His cocktip pressed between her lips . . . slipped along her slit . . . settled at her opening.

Jenny's nerves tingled and she held her breath . . . her body aching for his manhood . . . her mind screaming at her to protest. She didn't know if it was this internal struggle or something else that caused it, but a couple tears leaked from her closed eyes.

"Daddy, please no," she whimpered, her fingers tensing on the bedspread.

His hips applied pressure . . . the tip spread her walls . . . opened her. His cockhead forced her further open and nearly half his cock slid inside her before being stopped by her tightness, although he'd fucked her only a short time ago.

"Ooh, no. No-no-no," she mewled.

No longer needing to hold himself, his other hand grabbed onto her waist too and his hips dropped back . . . extracted a portion of his manhood. Then they pushed forward again and his entire length slid deep into her sex.

"Ooh!" She gasped, her hips rolling reflexively on his cock as it stuffed her pussy.

"Ooh yea, that is sweet," he groaned, grinding his crotch against her asscheeks, his cock shifting inside her.

Pulling back, he withdrew most of his cock, then slid the entire thing back inside her again. He pulled back . . . pushed forward, slowly pumping himself in and out of her.

"No, Daddy. No." she whimpered, her mind still screaming with the impropriety of this.

"Yea, take it, Slut. Take your daddy's cock in that dirty lil' pussy of yours." He growled as his hands held her waist and his rocking hips built up a steady rhythm . . . pistoning his manhood in and out of her pussy.

Upon the bed, Jenny's torso was shoved into the mattress, her tits mashed underneath it. Her fingers tensed, clawed at the bedspread. Within her loins her embers burst into flames, their tongues dancing and swirling as her juices flowed heavier so that wet slapping sounds soon filled the room, mingling with her whimpers and shallow breathes.

"Please stop, Daddy," she pled, her body's growing desire frightening her . . . making her mind tumble and reel with what was happening . . . again.

"You don't mean that, Slut. You want me fuckin' you... fuckin' you like the whore you are," he growled, his rhythm building more, his crotch slapping against her asscheeks.

"No. No-no-no," she tried disagreeing with him . . . tried denying the way her fires were growing . . . the way they were roaring . . . searing her loins.

In and out his cock pistoned . . .

Rhythmically fucking her . . .

Stuffing her . . .

Again and again . . .

Shoving her body into the mattress . . .

Her tits under her . . .

His hands holding her waist . . .

Controlling her . . .

"Yea, you're a whore that needs to be fucked. A dirty lil' slut," he told her, his rhythm building even more . . . his cock driving into her over and over.

"No, Daddy. No," she cried, still trying to deny his words even as they somehow fueled the desire coursing through her . . . fanned her fires even higher . . . caused an orgasm to form within them. She didn't understand it, but his words were making her want to be fucked . . . want to be used . . . want to be his little slut . . . his dirty whore.

"Oh yea. Daddy's lil slut. That's what you are. You're Daddy's whore and I'm gonna fuck you anytime I want," he told her, his cock pistoning . . . stuffing her sex again and again.

Against her mind's wishes, her body responded like it had earlier, the first time he'd taken her. Her legs started shifting herself back and forth with his rhythm . . . pumping her pussy back onto his cock as his hips shot forward . . . falling forward as he dropped back . . . pushing back again onto his rigid manhood. This enhanced the contact his crotch had with her asscheeks and they quivered delicately with each slap.

"I told ya, you wanted it," he chuckled.

"Mmm," she quietly mewled, not wanting to admit he was right, nor able to deny it.

And just like that first time, the orgasm soon came charging out of the flames and toward the ledge as their bodies rocked back and forth . . . fucking one another. Her father's cock pistoned in and out of her pussy . . . her sex slid on and off his manhood.

"Ooh. Ooh, Daddy," she whimpered, her mind's objections falling to the wayside as the orgasm reached the edge and teetered there . . . teasing . . . promising. Her hips began to twitch . . . her ass to jerk . . . and her pussy clenched around his thick shaft.

"Oh yea, you dirty lil' whore," he growled, his hands tensing on her waist . . . pushing and pulling her as he pleased . . . using her body to fuck him . . . her pussy to pleasure him.

"Ooh God! Ooh God yes!" She cried out, the orgasm rocketing off the ledge and crashing through her with more power than the earlier one. As her mind filled with brilliant, exploding skyrockets, her arms lifted her off the bed and her head flew back on her straining neck, her braids snapping with it. Her eyes were closed and lustful moans escaped her open mouth. Her ass hopped and twitched against him, her fingers clawed at the bedspread.

"That's a good slut. Cum on Daddy's cock. Cum like the dirty lil' whore you are," he growled as he continued fucking her, his rhythm growing frenzied . . . his hands throwing her forward . . . yanking her back.

His heightened assault combined with his words created more exploding skyrockets and sent powerful jolts of electricity shooting along her nerves. Falling onto the mattress again to mash her tits into the bed, her hands jerked at the bedspread, pulled it down toward her as if she were trying to crawl away.