Daddy Steals My Virginity

Daddy Steals My Virginity

or the OG title...

simply,

The Virgin.

I woke up in the middle of the night when my dad entered my creaky doorway smelling like beer and sweat and mom's pussy.

"Dad?" I blinked and rubbed my eyes. He sat on the corner of my bed in his jeans and flannel shirt. It must've been a real late night at the factory if he still hadn't changed by now. My dad wouldn't look at me. He seemed to be wrestling with something. He scratched his scruffle and stared at his phone screen. I doubt he even knew he'd awoken me. I guessed he did this kind of thing a lot, and it usually didn't wake me up. I sat up and blinked at the light blasting from his phone screen. That's weird. He was scrolling through my Instagram... lingering on photos of me in my bikini, hugging my girlfriends, getting my belly button pierced, or doing yoga in fluffy socks and tight leggings.

"How did you grow up so fast?" my dad muttered. "20 fucking years old now already." My eyes went a bit wide. What time was it? It was probably past midnight. I guess it was my birthday now technically and I wasn't a teenager anymore. When we were little Dad always used to joke with his daughters that we weren't allowed to have sex till we beat the teen numbers. That way, there was no chance of a teen pregnancy. I smiled as I thought about how much he cared. I pulled my honey-brown hair down from behind my shoulder to hide my expression in case he turned and he saw me. I wanted to look cute and a bit messy. Wanted to let him know I was still a good girl. Fun, but still a virgin. I was still listening to Mom's advice even though I couldn't stand her. I was waiting for marriage--saving penetration inside me for making babies and making babies only.

As much as I oddly liked the thought of a penis inside me, even inside my b-hole, all I had ever done was suck on a few boys' dicks back in high school. Maybe swallowed a few mouthfuls after it too if I really liked them. But I was a good girl. I wanted to kiss my daddy and make him feel better that his youngest daughter was not a teen anymore by assuring him she would always be there for him. I tried not to think about all those past dicks going in my mouth while I planned to do that, and I started to crawl toward him even though I felt just a little bit like a whore for having that picture in my head. But as I moved forward, Daddy disappeared. He left me with nothing but the smell of cheap beer and pussy breath as he huffed, stood up, and returned to his bedroom. I went back to sleep feeling like I could have done more.

Soon, I fell into a delicious sex dream I was nowhere near prepared for. It started out pretty normal-like (for me, anyway). It was a scene from a musical I wrote in middle school and really liked. Boys were fighting for my love in leather jackets and lettermans. They were singing about how badly they wanted to marry me and shoving each other with tough guy dance moves and snapping and flicking out switchblades on beat and in unison. And then my very favorite Italian mobster's son was between my legs with no warning. He wanted to marry me. As soon as I said yes, he pinned my arms still with his hands and he cut off my panties with his face up my dress, which kept shrinking and shrinking until it was but a shirt on me. He stuffed his mouth in my pussy and ate me so good, I knew I would have to be leaking into the mattress in real life. His mouth was so hot and prickly, and his tongue was like a dangerous slippery snake trying to slither up inside me. It lashed and battered my pussy lips and I squirted and moaned and squealed and gushed and orgasmed so wildly to the delicious pleasure.

"Mmm, little baby you taste so good here for Daddy..."

Oh, interesting! I never wrote Vince as the kinda guy who'd call himself something like that... but hey, wet dreams don't lie, you know. His clean-shaven face prickled and itched me, but I liked how rough and sharp and aggressive it felt on me.

"You taste so good, cupcake..."

Ok, that was actually weird. I gripped my bedsheets in real life and processed how unusual it was that my bad boy/boy crush was using the nickname only my dad called me.

"Fuck..." he said low and needy and heavy. And I knew Vince was being sus now because he never, ever used profanity in the many, many dreams I'd had about him over the many years. My neck stiffened and my hips bucked, and I arched my back and my eyes opened. I woke up and Vince was replaced by something horrifying. Something that never, ever should have been between my skinny lil legs, much less with its mouth on my virgin little girl parts and licking up inside them and making them feel all amazing and sexy and like a bad girl likes it hot and dirty.

It was my dad's head there... in real life. I stared down at his full head of hair. It was kinda long, and it was exactly the same color as mine. His face was so scruffled and his features were all focused on my pussy folds and hunting with his lips and stabbing at my virgin fuck hole with his long, nimble, pointed tongue like a demon or something. I jumped, pushed his head back, and scrambled, but Daddy already had his hands hooked up under my thighs and pulled me back in effortlessly, ignoring my being awake and many panicked noises of protest.

"Where are you going?" he heaved softly, blowing hot air on the surface of my pussylips that irked and overstimulated me. His voice was so hungry and so very deeply needy. His tongue dove back inside me then licked up to my clit and forced me to shiver and squirt my sweet nectar against my will into his ravenous mouth while it ate me.

"God, I've wanted this so, so long," he gasped, and I screamed so he scrambled over me and covered my mouth rapidly. Daddy held in my cries and my protests so well with his one strong, calloused working man's hand. He tore at my nightie with the other and soon my little nipples and the rest of my titties were being licked, pinched, and bitten. I hated the sharp pleasure he sadistically sent through me. I felt the warm, gooey ick seep into my bones as he crushed me under his strong, unshowered body. He pinned me as necessary for him to catch my arms, pin me to the bed, part my legs, and keep me still while he unbuckled his leather belt.

"No, Daddy..." I huffed with my mouth finally available. I wanted to tell him he was drunk and not thinking, but he looked much, much more sober than he did all those hours ago when he first came in here. He was awake, aware, and so very sure of this deeply wrong mission that his eyes and his hands and his crotch were all working together on. I watched in horror as he released a dirty man smell and a fat PLOP sound when his fat dick came out and landed against his heavy balls and the skin slapped together loudly and menacingly. He wasn't entirely engorged yet, and the hairy, veiny, girthy log of human skin and meaty flesh was sweaty and leaking a clear sticky goo from the tip while it got ready to claim my tightness and innocence.

"Daddy, I'm still a virgin. I'm saving this for marriage... please, Daddy, don't--!" Daddy gripped his oozing fat cock in one strong, dirty hand. He squeezed and stroked himself while he stared at my tiny hairless pussy lips. He licked his chapped lips and drooled a bit and it fell down onto my pussy, making me cringe and shiver in disgust. It gave him an idea. Daddy hawked and he spat a fat ball of spit right onto my cunt lips, and my body tensed and burned with sick violation. Then I felt his cockhead rub gently up and down all the way from my clitty down over my butthole over and over and over and over. I felt him get harder, and I knew this was happening. Daddy was going to rape me. Rape his sweet little girl who he always told that he loved so very dearly. But I didn't want it like this, and I tried and tried to tell him that. I cried, fought, and pleaded. But Daddy ignored my eyes until he knew it was time to do what he came in here to try to do night after night.

Daddy's gaze made me tense up and shiver as it burned north from my exposed pussy lips over my flat tummy and my petite breasts up to my lips, little button nose, and fearful hazel eyes as I laid with my messy hair on the pillow I once pulled between my legs tightly and learned how to masturbate with. This was where I became a woman, it felt like. Daddy licked his lips, no doubt still savoring the remaining taste of my needy cunt pheromones while I ovulated and my body craved to be flooded with seed by some mean man just like him. I guess this was where I was going to become a woman again. My legs twitched in anticipation, having practiced and prepared on pillows, with fingers, jacuzzi jets, corners of furniture, and my electric toothbrush. They liked being spread like this. Especially while I imagined a strong, dominant ruffian parting them with hands on my thighs like Daddy's were just then. But I never imagined, never considered, never would ever have figured that my literal dad could possibly fill that role, much less that orifice. But here it was happening.

"Daddy, no!" I felt sick, twisted pleasure surge ominously into me as Daddy started forcing his fat unprotected dick slowly within my wet, tight, virgin sex hole. I tensed, arched my back again, gripped his hands in mine, and with my eyes I pleaded with him. He only gasped, pupils well dilated, then closed his eyes in primal ecstasy as the tightest fit in the universe squeezed inch by inch deep up inside me for miles and miles and miles against my will. I fought and begged for this torturous pleasure to leave me, but in several heartless seconds, my Daddy was undeniably deep inside me and there was soon simply nothing I could do but accept that Daddy was raping me officially and had stolen my V-card and thus, my most precious dream for my future.

I grunted and winced in pain as he split and stretched and gaped his way up inside me. At least I was soaked to the point of dripping down my asshole. He crashed his naked cock tip into my cervix, and I knew he didn't care that I wasn't on any birth control. My head fell to the side in defeat as Daddy pulled back, and even more sick ecstasy erupted through my being as he slid his evil, fat, painful Daddy cock all the way back inside me again. I pushed pointlessly at his shoulders as he sighed, groaned, and muttered religiously--entranced and absolutely smitten with the sensation of raping his big dick up inside his youngest daughter. I knew he wouldn't try this shit with my sisters. He knew I was the sweetest, the softest, and most eager to please him. And everyone else in the universe.

I tried not to cry as I had to wrap my arms around his neck like I loved him like I used to as a child. I had to do it to make his thrusting inside me hurt less as all his weight pressed him into me. I wrapped my legs around him and welcomed him in deeper with my legs raised and pulled in like momma said I'd need to when it was time to get pregnant. I was going to be that for sure soon anyway, and this way it hurt way, way less. I gave in fully and pressed my breasts into his rough dirty flannel that felt scratchy and burned from work. I felt so clean and innocent and small and cute against his rough, cut-up, musty, fully dressed body and work clothes.

There was something poetic about being so vulnerable and naked against him in the clothes he wears when he commands, earns, and reciprocates respect while at work with other men. I felt so beneath him. I know that I was literally beneath him while he raped me, but I mean like an object. Like a flower-thing he was here to pick clean and make use of, or a tissue to jizz in and discard and forget about. Not a person.

Daddy grabbed my neck and kissed me on the lips and added tongue and explored my mouth while his dick stretched my virginal pussy way, way, way out. He caressed my tits and my ass and bucked hard and deep up inside me like it wasn't my first time taking a dick at all. I guess sweet, thoughtful-fucker daddy was leaving now. He had taken me down from his pedestal of innocence only minutes ago, and already I was a whore to him because I'd had a dick in me now--I could tell from the way he soon stopped touching and kissing me. He tapered off down my neck after lovingly planting passionate kisses across my cheek and ear. Then he slapped my arms down to my sides, humped his dick faster and faster and wildly painfully up into my cervix, covered my mouth, pressed in as hard and as deep as he was able, making me scream into his filthy hand, and I felt a gorgeous warm liquid surge and gush up into my cervix over and over oh, so many times. It must have been ages since mom let him cum in her, or anywhere in the house. She hated when he jerked off--I'd overheard that much for damn sure during insanely graphic arguments.

I stared at the ceiling as Daddy finished inside me. Everything hurt, and I could not escape it. I nearly screamed hate to God himself when Daddy's dick didn't get soft at all for me. Daddy pulled his cock out and watched his seed leak from me and into my clean sheets for only a moment before he was grabbing my hips and spinning me and pulling me to the edge of the bed. He gripped my hair tight and used it to shove my face down into the fresh cum puddle he'd watched ooze from me. It was sticky, salty, and tasted nasty. Daddy spat on my asshole this time, stroked his dick just a little, then started pressing his fat dick inside my butthole.

Immediately, I squirmed violently around in his grip and started screaming bloody murder in protest even though nothing hurt yet. Daddy paused and searched for the panties he'd taken off me in my sleep. He found them under my foot and looked for a second like he was about to shove them into my mouth. My eyes went wide in fear, but then he paused again. He threw my panties at my laundry bin, then fished some black lacy thing out of the flannel pocket in his chest. It was my mom's panties. The kind of slutty things she wore for every single occasion. She wore thongs and g-strings like that one while lounging at home, working all day, going out with friends, or in this case, to the gym for an insanity workout or something for several hours. I knew that was the case when he soon brought them nearer to my face to gag me--strong, sour pussy smells approached and hinted at a cacophony of drenching ass sweat, hormonal pussy juices of needy sex parts ovulating like mine no doubt, and carelessly missed drops of urine.

Mom's clothes always smelled of a fit, healthy woman's body, and this was no exception, but I was not about to be gagged by her fucking gym day g-string. Daddy can rape me or spank me, ground me, or kill me, but as I clenched my teeth and thrashed my head away from him, I knew at least that one thing for certain: there was simply no way that kind of insult was about to be added to this level of injury. But Daddy held my throat and shoved a fat dick up my asshole, and the sheer shock of that kind of stretch and unbelievable violation made me scream in no time. Musty, womanly-reeking black lace fabric met my tongue and its scent and taste washed over my buds and up and out my nostrils as I had to breathe that way while Daddy fucked my poor asshole in doggy as rough as he liked it, and pinned me with his hands on hips and made me take it. It hurt so bad I thought I might explode, but also the pleasure was immeasurable. The stretch was ungodly, and I had never felt that kind of full and overextended in my life, but a seriously dark masochist was budding within me to meet this challenge of my body's limits. It felt deeply intrusive and domineering, but also so warm. The painful hyperextension of my anal canal blended with the rush of hyper-sensitive sensation of his skin and flesh sliding eagerly in and against me and my tender pink walls inside.

While Daddy slid into me, my whole body felt like a sleeve of soft skin that was stretched to its limit and much, much further for Daddy's purposes. When Daddy finally came again, I felt another gush of warm manly seed and it leaked deep down inside me. Some still drained out when he pulled his dick out of me and it dribbled over my other leaky sex parts as Daddy sighed, smoothed his hair, and made for the doorway quickly like I was a cheap fuck in a backseat behind some old dive bar or something.

I laid in my bed unmoving for ages. I couldn't bring myself to do anything--physically or mentally. I wasn't a virgin anymore. Daddy had stolen that from me. I curled up into a ball as the sun rose. Why did he do that? How could he do that to me? Why did that kind of abuse feel so good while it hurt me so badly? I realized Mommy's panties were still in my mouth, and slowly, I pushed them out with my tongue. I didn't want to think about that right now, but her sour, sexy, mature sweat and pussy juice flavors were more noticable on my tongue now that my tastebuds met the air again. It clung there, and Daddy's cum stewed and pooled in my orifices feeling all hot and nasty and slimy and swimming strongly with many spermies. I could have all but sworn I could actually feel them wriggling around like little vile serpents inside me.

I was fucked. I was so fucked. Pregnant probably. Dissociating. Used and discarded. Turned into a whore, and all my life plans were ruined. And all for the evil sexy man who was supposed to protect me. How could he not see that? How wrong and disturbed this was?

For hours, I laid in bed as my head replayed how it felt when his stubble lovingly slurped over my privates with that steamy hot, slug-like tongue sticking out of it. I felt my ass leak, and the lingering pain from the stretch and the gape made it feel like his fat middle-aged cock was still up inside of it. My pussy squealed with sore excitement, just knowing that it had been fucked and well-bred finally, and I wanted to shove a spike up inside it to shut up that deeply, deeply disturbing idea. And to murder the now flooding intrusive thoughts of how relatively hot my rape and abuse was. How my own dad had wanted me so bad he just TOOK me. I shoved that shit out of my head quickly.

I reached down between my soft thighs and caught the next cascade of slimy cum before it dropped into my sheets with the rest of it. I looked down at the pearly, slimy baby goo and saw there was no blood in it. I checked my asshole's load with the other hand, and the same egg-white fascinating substance was just as clean and angelic. It hurt just to lightly touch my poor fucked sex holes, and something about that was very, very sexy too.

I stared and played and prodded and swished Daddy's cum around in my fingers for hours, collecting more on my fingertips when it dried up or thinned out. I felt like a well-worked cheap whore or something. It took me a while to realize why. It was all the porn I watched. I really tried not to do that, but one or both of my sisters left it in the cookies shamelessly on the computer we used to share and it got me hooked or made me feel closer to them or something cause a lot of it was girl on girl and that made me feel less weird about thinking some girls were very, very pretty... such as my sisters. I had lots of intrusive thoughts about them I was now failing to ignore any longer.

When I had graduated to rough, mean, dark, fuck-heavy porn though, some part of me really started to identify in fantasy with the women left fucked and sore and stretched and useless like a used condom when the mean men were done jizzing in them. The guys always just casually pulled out and ignored them, and walked over to the next dirty whore on the other side of the same gang-fuck or whatever the hell the situation was that was going on. I was starting to feel a lot like I imagined those girls felt if they ever weren't just acting while they laid there all used up and useless. And as my mind got spinny and sleepy on porn and trauma-fueled sex dreams, I started to get visions of a future. Flashes of them. Whose future, I cannot say. But it was feeling more and more like mine the longer I laid still and wallowed in the soreness of my butthole and previously virgin pussy that Daddy had plowed inside and claimed with his potent swimming baby ooze.

The flashes were of backseats of cars with amoral strangers. Plugs, big-time dealers, gangsters, and hoodlums. I saw a girl in torn fishnets kneeling at a gloryhole, and then she was held at the neck and raped by a stranger at a music festival... because she was dressed like a whore. Her eyes were sad, sunken, and shadowed. Her hair was so dark and short, and she had so many piercings and dark ink in the pretty, excessively scarred skin she had all over her body. Had she been cutting herself? I hoped not. I didn't want to do that ever again, and certainly not in the places I saw her scars cut into.

Next, she sucked a married man's thick black dick in a limousine. And then she was lifted into the air and double penetrated between the rotating bodies of two or three athletes in a motel room on the outer limits of the city. She was spit on, peed on right in her face, and kicked out of moving cars to scrape her knees and crawl home... if only she had one. Thick girls who hated her for her cute little figure sat on her face until she nearly suffocated. They took their time with each of their turns at it. One stuffed a shiny silver buttplug into her mouth fresh from her bestie's fat asshole and with a long, transparent strand of sticky sour slime still strung from it far back to her cheeks and butthole. Then the punk girl was crying while a man hit her and called her vile names, but she liked it. All of it. He fucked her in public in a way that he made sure hurt her. He didn't care what it looked like to strangers or friends or her family if any should happen to pass by them. And lastly, I saw this familiar girl begging and pleading for hard drugs on her knees by use of oral favors to a man that she hated. She was an amalgamation of so many fantasies pushed to the far corners of my head once inspired by the kinds of porn videos that scared, soaked, and excited me. I tasted my dad's semen on two of my fingers, then put them back inside me, and again licked the thick, salty substance from them as I tasted it and my own juices still mixed and conjoined together from before the sun had risen on this birthday.

"Get up, get up now, sleepyhead..." Mommy said softly as she carefully carried a cake full of 20 candles over to the side of my bed like she had for a decade now. "You're gonna miss your own birthday," she smiled and I heard it in her voice even as I was curled up on my side under my comforter and facing the wall away from her. "Come, make a wish now," Mom lowered the round, gently flaming masterpiece down to my level. She must have spent hours on it. Mom waited patiently for me to be a good girl and comply with this sadistic forced ritual for one more year for her--just like I had every single birthday since I was 10: the only age at which I had actually liked it.

I spun over toward Mommy and looked at her face as she smiled expectantly down at me with my cake in both hands. It was angled toward me so I could read her blue writing: "Happy 20th, angel face!" The zero in "20th" was packed tightly with all 20 candles. I breathed in sharply while I stared at the perfect arrangement of all of them; they were perfectly equidistant from each other. The zero was such a confining little space, but she had filled it so perfectly. Mom was always so good at things like that. Huh.

Anyways, I backhanded the plate and it smacked into Mom's tits and she screamed as the force knocked her over backward. Mom hit her head on the corner of my desk and started screaming and crying louder and ran out of my room with a hand cupped to the back of it while I purred sleepily and curled back up away from the door under my blanket. That'd teach her to bake stupid ass cakes nobody wants to eat anyway. Daddy appeared in my doorway pretty soon. He's so heavy-footed. I heard him bending the creaky floorboard before he even said a word to me.

"You gonna tell me why you just pushed your mother like that?" Dad asked me disdainfully.

"I don't know," I said loudly and flatly right into the pillow mushed right up into my face and shoulder. "Am I gonna tell mom what I was up to this morning before she came in here?"

Daddy didn't say anything. I'd have given anything to see the look on his face, and MORE than anything to have seen my mother's when she'd hit her head and landed on her ass with a chest full of cake fluff mashed into icing shoved into her fat tiddies. Or just to have seen her titties like that, to be honest with you. I turned around too quickly, needing my beauty sleep since I had to rethink my entire life plan and all that. Come to really think of it though... I probably didn't need one of those anymore, did I? I got up after Daddy left and I tore my collage board full of goals and aspirations down from my wall. I threw it in my metal trash can, squatted, and peed right over it all. Squatting burned and ached my poor thigh and ass muscles so badly since Daddy's cruel ravishing of my sex parts. Even my pussy was screaming for me to return to bed, and I did after I tasted the cake on the floor with a small grab of a few fingers. It wasn't too bad this time, actually. I almost felt bad for ruining it. Almost. It was still well more than worth it to get that bitch to fuck right off once and for all, I was hoping.

I guess today wasn't a day for festivities outside the bedroom, but I could still get into trouble here well enough if I tried hard. I arched my back and reached and reached across the bed real professionally slutty like in hopes one of my parents was back in my open doorway. It had only been minutes since Mom and then Daddy each had come up here, and my new personality sent their lame asses running for the hills in fear and confusion. I was liking this new power. I opened up a porn site, sexted an old blow buddy (oral, not cocaine--not yet, anyway), masturbated to rape porn with my door open and moaning loudly, then started buying sex toys, hair dye, and punk accessories on Amazon using Daddy's credit card info that was still in there from when he'd bought me a sweater for my dream college. Why hadn't I done this ages ago? At this pace, I might end up having to thank Daddy for raping me if being a bad bitch for no reason and with no fucks given kept feeling this good for me.