Chapter 1: Daddy's Incestuous Birthday Gift

Note: Thanks to WRC264 for beta reading this!

The figure smiled as it took its newest creation, a thick belt of dark-brown leather with an oval buckle cover. On it was engraved “Best Dad.” It slipped through the mist and appeared in the box store. Nondescript, no one noticed it.

The figure slipped through the shoppers with ease, weaving between their unseeing gazes. Their eyes slid over the figure as if it were not even there. In moments, it reached the small men’s wear section and hung the belt on a rack with others.

By the time it had slipped out into the mist, three girls had shown up. Sisters. The eldest had blonde hair and a nose ring, her large breasts filling out her top. The next oldest was slender and ephemeral, a quiet girl who pushed up her glasses. The youngest had a bounce to her step, her breasts round for her young age, and a playful smile burst on her lips.

“This is it!” she squealed and grabbed the belt.

Trevor Daniels

“Happy birthday to you!” sang my three daughters. Janelle, Sarah, and Tonya were all crowded around me as my birthday cake sat before me, two candles were on the cake, both fours. “Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear daddy! Happy birthday to you!”

“Make a wish!” squealed Tonya, my youngest at fourteen.

I leaned over and blew out the candle. The two flames snuffed out on the number of candles. Wisps of bluish smoke rose from them, the scent of melted wax flaring in the air. My daughters clapped. Janelle, the oldest at eighteen, plucked the candles free, her nose ring glinting in the light.

“Forty-four!” said Tonya, shaking her head. She was precocious. “What did you wish for, you old fart!” She said it playfully.

“Tonya,” Sarah hissed, nudging her elbow into her younger sister. At sixteen, she was a slender girl, her brown hair cut in a cute bob about her face. They all had their mother in their features in some way. Mary’s nose on Janelle, her eyes and ears on Sarah, and her lips and chin on Tonya. “Don’t be rude.”

“Daddy knows I’m playing,” Tonya said, rolling her eyes. “Right, Daddy?” She fluttered her blue eyes at me, her blonde hair, gathered in pigtails, falling about her too innocent face.

“She’s just jealous because she’s a young fart,” I said, grinning at Sarah.

“Yep!” Tonya said. “Super duper jelly.”

I glanced down at the cake. “That looks great, girls. I hope you didn’t destroy the kitchen making it.”

“Chill, Dad, I did it,” Janelle said. She wore a belly shirt and a pair of hip-hugging jeans. I sighed at how revealing it was. I remember when all three of them were such little princesses, adorable and demure. That was back when their mother had still been alive.

If Mary was here, would she have kept Janelle from dressing like that? Tonya was starting to emulate her older sister, wearing a tight pair of shorts that showed off her coltish breasts and a crop top that hugged her developing body. Slender Sarah, who though she was two years older than Tonya, somehow looked younger in her t-shirt and skirt, grabbed a knife.

“Let’s get the cake cut,” said Sarah. “It’s chocolate.”

“Your favorite, right, Daddy?” Tonya asked. “I made sure we made your favorite.”

“Yeah, and that’s about all you did,” Janelle said as she grabbed the paper plates.

“I chose the gift!” Tonya grinned at me. “You wanna see it, Daddy? Huh? It’s perfect.”

“Sure,” I said as Sarah cut the cake and put a big corner piece on the paper plate Janelle held. She then thrust it out at me with a plastic fork. My eldest daughter had a bright smile on her lips. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Dad,” Janelle said. “We got to take care of you, you old fart.”

I gave her a look.

Janelle grinned back at me. “If you’re not going to start dating again, then we’re going to have to take care of you. That’s really unfair, Dad. We’re young women. We should be out having a great time, but here we are, slaving away to make you happy.”

“I tried dating,” I muttered. “It’s hard. There are these damned apps. You know, when I was your age, we didn’t have apps. Fuck, we didn’t even have cell phones, let alone smartphones. You actually had to go and meet people. I met your mother at this party.”

Janelle gave me a bright smile. “Poor you. Having to deal with apps. You’re getting old, pops. Soon, you’re going to be drooling and in diapers.”

“Good thing I have three cute daughters to take care of me,” I said. “I dealt with you when you were all in diapers, so fair is fair.”

Janelle’s cheeks blushed and she squirmed.

“Want me to break out the pictures?” I asked. “Shame that latest boyfriend of yours isn’t here.”

“Chad’s not my boyfriend,” Janelle said. “We just hook up. No biggie.”

I shook my head. No biggie? She was eighteen, so it wasn’t like I could do anything about it.

“Here you are, Daddy,” Tonya said, darting in with a long, narrow box wrapped up in red wrapping paper adorned with Christmas trees. It was nowhere near that time of year, but it was probably all we had in the house. She thrust it out at me. “I hope you love it.”

“Yeah,” Janelle said.

“It’s perfect,” Sarah said, pushing up her glasses and smiling at me.

I undid the ribbon and then tore at the wrapping paper, this excitement swelling through me. My three little girls were all around me, beaming at me. My heart pounded in my chest. I don’t know why, but it was so touching. I might have had to raise them on my own for the twelve years, but I had done a good enough job. They didn’t hate me. We mostly got along.

None of them had come home and told me they were pregnant, thank god.

I opened the box and found a leather belt with a thick belt buckle that read...

“Damn,” I said, emotion swirling through me as I read what was embossed on there. Tears stung my eyes. I stroked the words. Best Dad. I had to keep a hard rein on my emotions to keep them from galloping out of control.

“Do you like it?” Tonya asked, her voice tight. She stared up at me with her blue eyes.

They all were waiting. Sarah’s hazel eyes stared at me behind her glasses. Janelle’s baby blues trembled. She had her hands clasped together as I drew the belt buckle out of the box and grinned at my girls.

“It’s perfect,” I said, my voice cracking just a bit. I cleared my throat. “Thanks.”

“You are the best dad,” Tonya said as I pulled my three girls into a hug, the belt dangling from my hand.

“Yeah, you raised two fine girls,” Janelle said, “and one brat.”

“Yep,” Tonya said, her arms tight around my torso. “Sarah is such a brat.”

We all burst into chuckles. I squeezed my girls and then released them. I held the belt out before me, staring at the words again. I mean, it was perfect. I rubbed my finger over those letters, letting them sear into my soul.

“Go put it on,” Tonya said. “I bet you look hot in it.”

I swallowed at that. I didn’t know how to respond to my youngest daughter calling me hot. She had that teasing grin on her face. The little brat knew just how to make me feel uncomfortable and loved it. She bounced on her toes, which made her round breasts jiggle in her tight top.

I should not notice that.

“You’re going to be handsome in it,” said Sarah, giving her little sister a look.

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Tonya said. “Right, Janelle. Our Dad’s going to look hot in it.”

“You are a stud, Dad,” Janelle said. “You know, that whole older guy thing. Mmm, a few of my friends whisper about you. Want me to introduce you. They’d be fun.” She winked her blue eye at me.

My discomfort was reaching whole new levels. “I can’t believe you three are picking on your old man on his birthday.”

“They are picking on you, Dad,” Sarah said. “You’ll be handsome and distinguished in it.”

“Oh, so distinguished,” purred Janelle. “You’ll make all the girls so wet.”

“My friends all have big crushes on you, Dad,” added Tonya.

“Go try it on,” Sarah warned, “before they get any worse, Daddy. I’ll give them a talking to.” She glared at her older sister and then her younger sister.

“Relax,” Janelle said, putting her arm around Sarah. “Just messing with Dad. Though it’s true. I have a few friends that wouldn’t mind getting to know you. Have some fun. Fool around. Want me to set you up.”

“God, no,” I said, an uncomfortable heat stretching out my boxers. Janelle had several friends she had grown up with. Girls I had known all their lives. They were all eighteen but that didn’t change the fact they still felt like kids to me. “I’ll go try this on.”

I didn’t flee the dining room and my three daughters. I marched out of there at a brisk step, Janelle and Tonya whispering and giggling about something that I didn’t want to know about. I swallowed and hurried up to my bedroom.

I had to change into a pair of pants that could take a belt. It was Saturday. I still had to mow the lawn and do some other chores around the house. We had a birthday cake at lunch. It was Saturday, and my daughters all had plans for the evening.

I didn’t mind. It was just my birthday. No biggie. They stopped mattering when you didn’t get a lot of presents.

I pulled off my sweat pants and pulled on a pair of jeans. T-shirt tucked in, I threaded the belt through it. I buckled it on and hooked my thumbs through the belt. It was huge, like something you’d see on someone from Texas.

“Best Dad,” I read again, shaking my head. Damn. My girls might be big teases, but they were amazing. I took a moment to gain control of my emotions and then headed downstairs.

Adjusting my belt buckle, I headed through the living and into the dining room. My daughters were finishing up eating their pieces of cake. Tonya had chocolate frosting coating her lips. She turned and gasped at the sight of me.

“So hot, Daddy!” she squealed and then ran over to me.

Before I knew it, she threw her arms around my neck and kissed me. Not on the cheek or the chin. She kissed me right on the mouth. And this was no quick kiss. No daughterly peck on the lips. I was stunned to feel her lips working on mine, tasting the chocolate frosting.

I stood there stunned. Confused by what she was doing. My heart pounded in my chest. This heat swept through me. A dangerous heat. One I shouldn’t be feeling. Not for my little girl. This was my baby girl.

Then she broke it. “God, you’re a stud, Daddy!”

“Tonya!” I croaked, struggling to breathe.

Then Sarah was pushing her little sister aside, this apologetic look on my middle daughter’s face. She liked to keep Tonya’s brattiness to a minimum. To my surprise, Sarah put her hands on my chest, her glasses reflecting the light for a moment as she tilted back her head.

“Happy birthday, Daddy,” she purred with a breathy catch. “I love you.”

She rose on her tiptoes and planted her lips on mine. It wasn’t as an aggressive kiss, more demure, but I could feel her passion as she rubbed her hands across my chest. My cock throbbed harder. This was so wrong. My daughters shouldn’t be kissing me like this. I couldn’t think, though.

Blood pounded hot through me. Instincts screamed through me to grab my daughter, to hold her tight. My hands balled into fists as I fought against that throbbing ache in my cock. The taboo, depraved desire to love my daughter back.

I broke the kiss, stumbling back a step. “Sarah?” My face burned. “What was that?”

“Birthday kiss,” Sarah said.

“Yeah,” Janelle said, sauntering to me, her large breasts jiggling in her tight belly shirt. God, was she even wearing a bra. Her nipples poked against the material. Her hips swayed. She reached me and seized the back of my neck and pulled my head to hers. “Happy birthday, Daddy.”

She kissed me with hunger. Her tongue thrust into my mouth. I groaned, my fingernails biting into my palms as I resisted the urge to grab her and pull her tight. Not that I needed to because Janelle melted against me, her large breasts rubbing on my chest.

God, they felt as big as Mary’s. It had been so long since a woman kissed me. A couple of years since my last successful date that led anywhere. It had been porn and my hand. My cock throbbed in my jeans, pushing against the denim.

She broke the kiss. “Mmm, Daddy,” she cooed. “It’s your birthday. What do you want us to do?”

“Do?” I croaked.

“Yeah, we’ll do anything, Daddy,” Tonya said, bouncing up and down. “You name it, we’ll do it.”

I swallowed. The way she said it when combined with the kisses...

No, no, they were just messing with me. Just a way to get under my skin or something. It was so wrong. They shouldn’t be teasing me in this way. They surely couldn’t mean for me to ... I mean...

No, no, they were my daughters.

My baby girls!

I banished down those perverted thoughts and stared at Tonya. “Anything?”

“Anything, Daddy,” she said, a coquettish smile on her face, her pigtails draping down over her round breasts. Her nipples, too, poked at the fabric. “You say it, and I’ll do it.”

“Then go clean your room,” I said, not thinking she would do it. Tonya would throw the biggest fit whenever I made her clean up that disaster that she called her bedroom.

“On it!” she squealed and darted off.

I blinked as she ran out of the dining room. Her footsteps raced through the living room and then pounded up the stairs. The hallway creaked. Her bedroom door banged open. I couldn’t believe she was actually cleaning it.

I had to see this for myself.

I turned and stumbled out of the dining room, my cock uncomfortable in my boxers. With my other two daughters behind me, I adjusted myself quickly. Then I rushed up the stairs and found Tonya cleaning her room.

She was collecting all her dirty clothes in a hamper. She had skirts, jeans, panties, and bras strewn all over her room. She glanced at me and smiled as she worked, looking so happy as she threw a lacy, black bra into her hamper.

“It’ll be perfect, Daddy, you’ll see,” she said.

“Yeah,” I said, still shocked that this was happening.

“What would you like us to do, Daddy,” purred Janelle.

“Mmm, we’re ready to do anything for you, Daddy,” cooed Sarah. I glanced at my daughters. Even Sarah, with her petite body, was looking sexy in her skirt and t-shirt. Her hazel eyes gleamed.

“Uh, why don’t you two mow the lawn and run the weed whacker,” I said, stunned. That was another thing I never could get them to do.

They’d always said it was a man’s job, buttering me up about how strong I was. Now, both my daughters beamed at me, saying, “Yes, Daddy!” in near unison, then turning around and darting for the stairs.

“What the fuck is going on?” I muttered as I glanced back at the room to find Tonya now picking up the various junk food wrappers that were littering her floor, her pigtails swaying. She was on her hands and knees, her shorts hugging her cute rump which she had aimed at me, her hips wiggling back and forth.

My cock throbbed at the display. Cheeks burning in shame, I fled back downstairs. I panted, bewildered. This flirting and kisses and breathy promises of “anything” were way, way, way beyond any teasing Janelle and Tonya had ever done. And now Sara was in on it? What were my daughters up to?

The lawnmower roared to life.

“Fuck me,” I said and sank onto my chair. Janelle and Sarah were actually mowing the lawn. The world felt so topsy-turvy. Nothing made a lick of sense. Even on my birthday, I couldn’t even get them to do that. Janelle and Sarah would clean the kitchen or the bathroom. They would vacuum the house and dust and stuff, but mow the lawn?

I grabbed the remote and turned the TV on. A baseball game was on. The Mariners versus the Red Sox. I swallowed and just let myself relax. If they wanted to actually do this work, well, then it was worth some teasing.

I could feel all three of their lips on my mouth. It was hard to concentrate on the game as I relived those kisses. They were all different but hot. All had me wanting to slip into my bedroom, get on Pornhub, and stroke one out.

I hated masturbating when my daughters were home and moving around. At night, sure. When I had the house to myself, definitely, but with them mowing the lawn and Tonya cleaning her room ... I just had to focus on baseball.

Not think of my three daughters. They weren’t little girls any longer. They were teenagers, growing up. All three were beautiful like their mother. I glanced at the photos on the wall. Wedding pictures when I was a young man and Mary looking radiant. Pictures of her holding our daughters after they were born. The last family picture we’d taken just a few weeks before she passed away of a brain aneurysm, Tonya just two.

Mary would kill me if I touched our daughters.

What sort of bastard would do that?

Still, the thoughts rippled through my mind as the memory of their kisses lingered. I swallowed, hearing the lawnmower running. It was a big yard and neither Janelle nor Sarah had done it before. Maybe I should make sure they were doing a good job.

But I didn’t trust myself around my daughters. They were teasing me, I knew it, and yet there was this depraved and horny part of me that didn’t care they were my flesh and blood. That damned voice whispering to see how far they would go to obey me.

Just what “anything” truly meant.

Tonya came down the stairs, a trash bag rustling in her hand. She darted out the front door to take out the trash. She came back in and flounced over to me, her round breasts bouncing in her top. She had put on a belly shirt, a t-shirt she had cut off so short the bottom slopes of her round breasts could be seen. The fabric hugged her tight. Threads dangled over her skin.

Jesus, had she just cut off that top to tease me.

“Like it, Daddy?” she asked, standing before my recliner and shifting her hips.

“Uh...” I swallowed. “This game really has to stop, Tonya. You’re going too far.”

“What game, Daddy?” she asked, frowning. “Is there something wrong with my top? Would you like me to wear something else?”

I should have shouted yes, but that horny part of me was taking over more and more. She ran her hands over her flat stomach, her fingers brushing her bellybutton. She looked up at me, her hips wiggling from side to side, her boobs bouncing.

“Huh, Daddy?”

“No,” I croaked.

“So, what would you like me to do now?” she asked. “You’re the best dad in the world, so you say it, and I’ll do it.” Her hands slid up her body and cupped her breasts, fingers sliding through the fabric. All she had to do was push up, and they would spill out.

What was going on? This was insane. My dick was on fire. Impulses to shout, “Show me your tits” or “Suck my dick” slammed through me. I had never been so hard in my life. Had Mary ever excited me as much as our youngest daughter? Her fingers kneaded her tits, her blue eyes smoldering. She was fourteen for Christ’s sake.

Fourteen!

A child. My child! This was so wrong.

“Mmm, come on, Daddy,” she purred. “Anything.”

I had to say something. I had to stop her hands from massaging her tits. Something that wasn’t perverted. Something... “Foot massage.”

“Sure thing, Daddy!” she said. Thank god she ripped her hands from her tits.

She snagged the end of my sock and peeled it off, revealing my foot, hairs growing at the knuckles of my toes. She grasped my foot, her thumbs digging into my soles. She bent over, her tits swaying in her improvised belly shirt, and massaged my foot.

She smiled at me as she did it, her blue eyes bright. I swallowed as her fingers worked up and down. I couldn’t help the groan I released. It felt amazing. Too amazing. This was so dangerous. If I wasn’t careful, this could go too far.

We’d both regret that.

The lawnmower turned off as Tonya worked her fingers up and down my foot. She had a big grin on her face the entire time, her hands working up and down my foot. I moaned, closing my eyes. It was so relaxing.

“That’s it, Daddy,” cooed Tonya. “Just let me relax you.”

The backdoor slid open. The sink ran for a minute, and then two sweaty daughters appeared, the scent of gasoline smoke and cut grass wafted around them. Sarah and Janelle both had big smiles on their lips as they moved in and flanked Tonya.

“Mmm, Daddy, do you need us to do anything?” Janelle asked, her top clinging to her breasts, sweat soaking through and outlining her tits.

“Yeah,” Sarah asked, her face flushed from her exertion. She rubbed her hands on her belly, her hips undulating, making her skirt swirl about her mid-thigh. Had it always been that short? Had she rolled up her skirt to show off more leg? “What do you need us to do for you.”

Janelle’s nipples poked at her top. So did Sarah’s. Had she abandoned her bra, too? I had to stop this. Things were going too far. I swallowed, Tonya’s fingers digging into the soles of my foot. They felt so good. So wonderful.