Chapter 1: Daddy's Not-So-Little Girl

My daughter had inherited more from her mother than just her looks. I loved them both desperately, making every effort to provide them with every possible luxury; unfortunately, it taught them to regard me as a limitless money pit. My wife knew all she had to do was grab my crotch, a sudden rush of blood to my groin guaranteed to overcome any objections I might have to her demands. For her part, my little girl discovered the power of whining "But dad-eeee, " until she got her own way. To support their outrageous spending habits, I had to devote myself more and more slavishly to my work, reducing the amount of time I had with the queen and princess of my heart. Their attitudes worsened, and my wife began an affair, culminating in a messy divorce where she carted off our home and half my bank balance. My daughter, not yet past the age of majority at that stage, was given over to her mother's custody, alimony awarded to support her for the two years until she turned eighteen.

Working like a Trojan to carry the burden my gold-digging wife had imposed on me, I had less and less time to spend with my daughter, now the unrivalled apple of my eye. As I was no longer able to provide the financial support she had grown used to, her demeanour grew surly. She eventually cut me out of her life entirely, snide and cutting remarks about my inability to be a quote-unquote 'real' father driving a wedge between us, her heart no doubt poisoned by her mother.

I had my revenge, of course- but not through anything I did directly. My wife's carefree ways with money she had not earned drove her deep into debt, forcing her to sell the house to narrowly avoid insolvency. The man she was with had been milking her dry, taking from her rather than providing the (in my old-fashioned estimation, at least) way he should. My ex-wife and daughter moved into a shabby, two-bedroom apartment downtown, their combined income barely enough to cover their costs of living. Meanwhile, my hard work attracted the notice of my superiors, earning me a promotion and a substantial pay increase. With some carefully managed investments and no longer supporting my daughter after she turned eighteen (of course, I was not invited to any party they had) I found myself in a stronger financial situation than I'd ever been before. For a change, my money was no longer leeched as fast or faster than I could make it.

I bought a small, Mediterranean-style villa in a trendy neighbourhood, intending to do it up and sell it at a tidy profit. At some point in the process, though, I had decided to turn it into my home, and the tidy little house became my castle. Unfortunately, between the emotional scarring my wife had left behind and the time constraints of my new executive position, I found dating to be next to impossible. As I result, I turned to mankind's other stand-by; pornography. Like all men, I had a "type," one my wife had been conscious to fulfil in her quest to lighten my wallet. I had a marked preference for petite, blonde women with wide hips and an ample bust; performers like Carolyn Monroe, Kala Prettyman, and Jasmine Tame quickly occupied gigabytes in my rapidly-filling hard drive. I particularly like Jasmine, her body (though perhaps less top-heavy) reminding me of my wife when we had met. To add to her allure, she was so young and so eager to be fucked, veritable sexual goddess. More than once, I contemplated the possibility of flying down to Cah-li-for-nyah- as Ahnahld pronounced it- and trying to book a session with the object of my affections.

One day, as I trawled through.tgp sites looking for a new starlet who could awaken my lusts the way Jasmine, whose updates were and remain lamentably slow could, I stumbled across a new performer. Her skin was pale, creamy, like wan moonlight. I could see blonde hair cascading down over dimpled shoulders, doing nothing to hide her impressive cleavage, hidden beneath her lacy bra. Her legs were splayed, giving me an excellent view of her femineity. Irritatingly, her face was cropped from the picture; given the amazing body she had, though, I figured she would have to be hiding a face like a barracuda to deflate the raging hard-on I was sporting.

I was wrong. Clicking the link, I began stroking myself. As the page loaded, the identity of my new favourite became clear- it was my little girl, Samantha. I had inadvertently discovered my daughter performing a bukkake scene, surrounded by dozens of men. She was pictured sucking at their hard members, opening her mouth to display their opalescent loads, and spitting their come into a clear glass bowl. The last picture in the series depicted my darling little heart drinking a truly inconceivable amount of ejaculate down, a steamy grin on her come-covered face.

Shocked, I moved the mouse pointer to the red 'X' at the top of the page. Something kept me from clicking it, though; I was entranced by the thought of my daughter, who had so callously treated me, being violated and demeaned. Scrolling down, I read the scene synopsis, learning her nom de guerre. My hands trembling, I headed over to AskJolene, typing it in. The results were staggering; Sam had made what appeared to be fifteen movies, ranging from shoots with BigTitsAtSchool to interracial porn. What stuck in my mind, though, was that bukkake scene, my little girl's face dripping with the semen of so many strangers. I hit my favourite torrent and RapidShare sites, eventually striking gold when I found a massive, 515 meg video of my dirty daughter.