Chapter 1: Deflowered Daughter Defended (disgracefully)

“Do you think she’s alright?” my wife Sally was worrying.

Our adolescent daughter had just gone straight back up to her room, after yet another sulky, uncommunicative lunch.

“I know what you mean,” I sighed. “She has changed. Would she talk to you, do you think?”

“I have tried,” Sally shook her head, “she just says no she’s OK. But she’s gone so quiet. What about you having a try?”

Teen angst isn’t my specialist subject but I went up and knocked on her door. No answer. I knocked again, waited a moment, then opened it anyway. Yvonne just sat on the edge of her bed though, hardly looking at me; pale and slender, her face half hidden in her long wavy hair.

“Is everything alright Vonnie?” I asked.

“It’s OK dad, I just need some space.”

I leaned over and gave her shoulder a squeeze. She didn’t respond.

“Well if there is anything, you can always talk to me, or your mum,” I added weakly.

Still no response.

“We’ll always be on your side, whatever happens.”

“Yes okay.” She was waiting for me to go.

“So, you know, don’t keep things to yourself, if there is anything, ever...”

No response. I retired, defeated.

Pondering the problem, I began to wonder, reluctantly, whether the change had started not long after we’d taken on the housekeeper a couple of months before? Sally had seen a job and gone back to work, finally, and the house is quite large, so we’d advertised a room with car, in exchange for the main housework. The house has a granny bedsit that the previous owner had used for an aged parent. It was ideal.

It had worked out well, we thought. We’d chosen a young woman who was studying for a higher degree. She was splitting her time between our housework and her research, a lot of which she did in her room. She was twenty-two and a good-looking girl with a winning smile, and we’d taken to her at once.

She was an athlete, playing a lot of different sports, and one of the things we’d hoped was that she’d encourage Yvonne to do some sports and build up a bit of muscle and fitness. Yvonne had been a bit on the skinny side. Now Becky had been taking her swimming and to some gym activities, that we weren’t too clear about but had clearly given Yvonne’s body some tone. She stood better and her shoulders were bigger and straighter.

But recently that advance had been overshadowed - by the change in Yvonne’s attitude that I had just tried and failed to get to the bottom of.

Sally and I were making no progress, until the following week when a meeting was cancelled so I came home at lunchtime. Nobody seemed to be in, to start with. Then I heard faint sounds coming from Becky’s flat at the end of the house.

There was something about the sounds...

I went over to the connecting door and listened at it. The sound was gasping - the kind of gasping that meant ... sex?? I heard a voice: “No more Becky, please, that’s three times!”

It was Yvonne’s voice!

I tried the door, but it was locked. I banged on it, then charged it with a shoulder. The lock wasn’t much and it burst off the frame straight away.

I staggered into the room, regaining my balance. It took a couple of seconds to take in what my eyes were seeing: Yvonne was tied to the bed, with ropes, spreadeagle and naked! Her face was a mask of desperation.

Getting up from next to her was Becky, also naked, just pulling her hand off a vibrator that looked buried deep in Yvonne, between her splayed legs!

I was round the bed in an instant, grabbing Becky, who was desperately gabbling apologies. I pushed her back down on the edge of the bed and looked at Yvonne.

I couldn’t help registering my daughter’s freshly developed body. She had a definite bush, not thick but there, neatly in a V shape pointing to her swollen, glistening labia and the handle end of the vibrator. Her thighs had put on muscle since I’d last seen them, and flowed into her pelvis. Above that was a very small waist, then tits that were sticking up pertly, even on her back. Dark-pink, erect nipples...

My gaze took in all this in a second, then arrived at her face: a bit sweaty now but so beautiful, framed by her long light-brown hair. Her big green eyes were full of fear, gratitude, shame, all mixed in together. And arousal?

I brought my attention back to Becky. What was I going to do with her? Well for a start, she wasn’t going anywhere. I looked around the room. Next to me was Yvonne’s ankle, tied with a soft pink rope. It looked purpose-made for bondage! With one hand I undid it, and Yvonne quickly closed her legs. I grabbed Becky’s arms and, barely noticing her struggles, pulled them behind her back and tied them there with the rope.

I lifted her, turned her, and pushed her onto the bed next to Yvonne, on her back. “What do you think you were doing?” I raged at her.

“I’m sorry!’ she spluttered, “I couldn’t resist. I tried. She didn’t want to do anything. I just...”

“Don’t you realise?’ I shouted, “what it’s like to be raped? Having all your control and dignity taken away? Being used for someone’s pleasure?”

“I’m sorry,” she wailed, looking up at me, “she’s just so lovely. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. In her swimming costume and her leotard. In the showers. Her face. I was lonely, I didn’t know anyone here, but she didn’t want to do anything with me, touch me or anything.”

“Well you can’t just rape people because you’re lonely!” I yelled. “Do you think just because you’re lonely and stronger than someone you can just enslave them?”

“I know, I know!” she yelped, “It’s me as well, it’s wrong, I know, I shouldn’t have. I just wanted to see her cum. Make her cum. She was so innocent. I thought once she’d cum with me then it would be different.”

“But it wasn’t different was it?” I was still shouting, but a bit less loudly.

“No, no, it wasn’t, but once I started I got off on it. I’m sorry. I just got off on making her cum, even though she didn’t want to. I forced her to cum, then I got myself off, stroking her and looking at her. It was wrong. But I couldn’t help myself. She looks so fantastic when she’s sexed up, and when she’s cumming, God, I couldn’t stop.”

I had to admit I was finding it hard to help myself, as well. I was holding down a naked girl, right next to another naked girl.

And in the middle of my rage, trying to work out what I ought to do about the situation, I couldn’t help noticing Becky’s body. Medium height, medium build, with feminine proportions; lean, with toned muscles individually shaping her fine, tanned skin. Perfect shoulders, firm tits, smallish waist, nice hips. Short blonde hair, but thick, and blue-grey eyes in a very pretty face.

It all came disgracefully together.

“Right!’ I was still shouting, “I’ll show you what it’s like shall I? You raping bitch! You can see what it’s like!’

I stood up and started tearing off my shirt.

“Daddy!’ Yvonne was appalled, “No, no, don’t! Untie me! And get this vibrator out of me!” The vibrator was still buzzing away up inside her. I leaned across, eased it out and turned it off.

I had to admit, afterwards, that I allowed my mind to play tricks on me, to justify the unjustifiable. “Just a minute,” I rasped. “This is what she deserves and this is what you need, to see - it’s just bullying. Watch, you’ll see. It wasn’t your fault, you’ll see you don’t need to feel bad, it was just a stronger person doing something you couldn’t help.”

Becky was trying to get up, finding it difficult with her hands tied behind her back. I pushed her back down, pulled my shoes and socks off, pushed her down again, and took off my trousers and briefs. I pushed Becky down again and got on the bed next to her - luckily we’d put a big bed in here, so there was space next to Yvonne even tied in the middle as she was.

I pinned Becky down and forced my knee between her legs. With that start I grabbed one knee, then slid my hand down to her ankle and forced it up and out. I realised my cock had gone rock hard. She was strong, kicking wildly, but I just held on till she tired and then did the same with the other leg. We both knew what was going to happen next.

I pushed her legs back and lowered my head towards her pussy. She bucked upwards, but it just brought her doom that much closer. I opened my mouth over her clit and followed it as her pelvis sank back down. I pushed her clit out with my tongue and then closed my lips over it. I was gratified to hear a despairing gasp as I started working her over.

I moved my mouth down to her pussy and pushed my tongue in. She was wet already - from raping Yvonne I daresay. Revenge was as sweet as her now reluctant pussy juice.

For a couple of minutes I teased her with my mouth, teeth and tongue, forcing arousal on her: sucking, blowing and licking. I could hear her gasping and groaning, saying “sorry’ over and over again. Then the words stopped and she was just grunting and panting. And writhing a little.

I lifted my head off and slid up, pulling her knees up with me. I’m not that tall and my face was right over hers as I lined my big, throbbing cock up with her defenceless pussy. I moved my pelvis around to rub my cockhead over her glistening wet labia.

“So,” I barked at her, “you’re the helpless one now aren’t you? What do you think? Is it OK for me to rape you now, because I’m stronger than you and I happen to feel like it?’

“No! I’m sorry,” Becky was almost in tears, but only almost. “I was wrong, don’t fuck me, please!’

“You don’t have any control now do you?’ I continued my barracking, “can you feel your dignity being ripped away?’ As I said that I pushed and my cockhead slid into her pussy.

“Noooo!’ she wailed, but I wasn’t to be denied vengeance for Yvonne’s ravishment. Repeated ravishment, I reminded myself. I started pumping and my cock slid in, an inch at a time, until all eight were buried in the helpless girl. It felt fantastic.

I started to fuck her, slowly. At first I left plenty of cock in her each stroke, in case her struggles should manage to get it to slip out, but gradually her pelvis stopped thrashing around. I increased the length of my stroke, fucking her with an irregular rhythm that would keep her aroused but not let her cum. She was going to cum when I made her cum, and not before. She was gasping with each stroke already.

I looked over at Yvonne. “You see, darling, anyone can get raped. It’s not you. OK? Can you see now?’ I managed a smile through my growing sex haze.

“You shouldn’t, Daddy,” Yvonne was looking shocked. More shocked, but less desperate and distressed.

But I was way past the point of no return anyway. I fucked and fucked, keeping Becky close to the edge for minute after minute, dragging it out. She felt fabulous, her pussy tight and creamy, her stunning body starting to writhe with arousal instead of resistance. I gazed down at her, my eyes roving over her delicious smooth skin, her pert tits now flushed with her nipples sticking out, hard. I looked into her eyes, her pupils huge and angry.

Chapter 2 »