Part 4

“Daddy, can you tell me a bedtime story?” Kim asked, her eyes already half-closed with sleep. Victor looked down at his 14 year old daughter daughter, his heart heavy with the weight of his secret. He nodded.

“Of course, sweetheart. But first, I’m gonna get you some warm milk,” he said, his voice gentle and reassuring. The stove crackled to life under the pan of milk, and the smell of it filled the air. He grabbed the small bottle from the top shelf of the fridge, the one that contained the clear liquid. This had to be the last time, he told himself, for the hundredth time. He poured the drugged milk into a cup then carried it back to her. Kim took the cup with a yawn, her trust in him as innocent as her eyes. She sipped it down, the warmth spreading through her body, her eyes growing heavier. Once he was sure the drug had fully taken hold, he reached over and pulled the blanket down, and began to undress her. Each layer of clothing revealed more of her skin, a canvas of innocence marred by his perversion. The fabric fell away to expose her, piece by piece, until she lay before him, naked and vulnerable. He had lost count of the nights he had done this. The sight of her, so trusting and oblivious to the horrors he inflicted, made Victor’s cock twitch and he couldn’t look away. His eyes traveled over her, drinking in the image he knew he had no right to see. He leaned closer and whispered, “I’m sorry,” The sight of her bare flesh sent a wave of pleasure through him. His own clothing followed, dropping to the floor.

Victor parted her legs gently, his mouth watering at the sight of her. He leaned in, his tongue tracing the delicate folds of her young pussy with passion. He moaned into her, the vibrations sending shivers through her body. Kim’s eyes remained closed, but her body responded to his touch. Her body tensed slightly as he feasted, his tongue delving into her, tasting her innocence. The sweetness of her, the way she quivered against his mouth, was a siren’s call that he had no will to resist. Her youthful flavor was intoxicating, and he felt himself getting harder with every passing second. His cock ached, straining against his boxers, eager to claim what was his every night. He ate her pussy with more vigor, his tongue swirling and probing, exploring every inch of her. His hands gripped her thighs tightly, holding her in place as he ravaged her with his mouth. Her breathing grew heavier. He felt the heat rising from her, the first signs of the arousal she shouldn’t be feeling, not at his hands, not from his mouth. But the drug had stolen her ability to protest, to fight, leaving her a mere vessel for his desires. With a lingering kiss to her clit, Victor pulled away and freed his rock hard cock from the confines of his boxers. It sprang forth, a weapon of his own making, a symbol of his power over her. The sight of it made him feel strong and proud. He took a moment to look at her, his mind a war zone of conflicting emotions: lust, love, and guilt.