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[I wanted to comment now that I'm into the second chapter. I know it must seem like I am building this up very slowly and I'm sure the point of view seems rather one sided and the characters of Amelia and Rena seem one-dimensional. But I promise I have plans for this series, my first, to really fill itself out. This is based on a true story, in part, and I am building it the way it happened (with a few flourishes). I plan to have the third chapter really indulge Amelia's side of things, her perspective, and from there Rena will develop a personality and nurturing mother-side to her as well. I just wanted to set the series up with a good look into the psyche of the character of 'Larry'...I wanted people to know what was going on in his head early on, how this transpired - well before we get into the chapters that will be devoted purely to gratuitous yiffing. I hope there will be some of you readers who have the patience to bear with me while I skim the surface to peel back the layers to the deeper content. I would really appreciate comments. Thank you.] "Do you think Ame is coming down with something?" Rena asked while watching her four-year old daughter drifting into a sleepy-nod on the couch. "She seems so tired.." Her voice trailed off and she continued sorting out the laundry, her clothes, Larry's clothes and Amelia's clothes. It was one of those rare days that she had some time off and was able to catch up on the housework. She'd noticed how Amelia had progressively gotten worse, always complaining about being sleepy, taking several naps during the day, and even putting up a fuss about getting off to school in the mornings. Larry had looked up quickly at his wife's question, she wouldn't know it, but his heart was racing in his chest and his ears immediately stood erect. Shit. What had he done? Did she know? Maybe Amelia had told her mother what was going on, maybe she wasn't sleeping through his nightly masturbation rituals afterall. No, that couldn't be the case, Rena would kill him, there'd be no questions asked...only action, lethal action. "Probably just adjusting to school. It's her first year, I'm sure she'll level out." He gave a shrug and glanced down at the newspaper spread before him, trying to pretend like it wasn't such a big deal and that he hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. Oh, but he had. He knew why their precious little angel was so tired... ---- It had been about a month since that first night of exploration and courage into the unknown. Since that first night when he had entered his daughter's room and looked at her, touched her in ways a father, and no man should look at a little girl. Since that night his curiousities and insatiable desire for Amelia had only grown and progressed. It had gotten so bad that he had a schedule he worked on now. Feed her. Bathe her. Put her to sleep. Wait an hour. Molest her. He knew it was sick for him to think of it that way, but it was just the truth. He couldn't keep his cock under control long enough to think of consequences, he was becoming foolish and too brave. There had been some incidents where Amelia had not yet fallen completely asleep when he entered her room - thankfully she only murmured or called out to him in situations where he could pretend to be tucking her in or checking on her, maybe kissing her goodnight. Her mind was so innocent, unspoiled and untainted - she had no idea that as soon as her pretty little eyes drifted shut her Daddy planned to do such bad things to her. Those 'bad things' had grown darker and he slipped further and further into that place where he could not return, where he could not turn back any longer. He could only go further to a place he knew was inevitable - he would fuck his daughter one day, he would ruin her forever, for any man after him, possibly be the death of himself and her. But not quite yet, for now his love for her kept him in control, only slightly. His nightly games had progressed in small ways, even if they were quite rapid. He would wait until she was asleep and then enter her room in nothing but his boxers. Often times the position she was sprawled out in her sleep would determine his sadistic plans for the night. If she was laying on her belly, legs sprawled, he would pull the sheets away, ease her panties down around her thighs and peer at her cunt while he jerked on his thick cock for part of the night - sometimes he would pull her panties away and lap at her fresh little pussy until his tongue grew tired. Once, he had even woken to find his face buried in her fuzzy snatch, he had been so careless. He loved to lick her precious cunt, that comparison to a peach really was true, but only in the case of innocent little girls like his daughter. He could have spent the rest of his life with her sitting on his face, allowing him to pry her plump lips apart and stroke his tongue within. Rarely did his angel grow wet during his activities but there were those few times when he rubbed his coarse tongue along her slit that she squirmed and moments later he would find a fresh glistening dew lining all of that coral pink. It only drove him crazy with lust...the idea that his baby girl might want this as much as he did, might hunger for her Daddy's tongue or cock. It hadn't taken him long to realize how hard she slept, she slept like most children at that age, once their eyes were shut they rarely opened until morning when a parent woke them or pure childsize-energy drove them from their beds. This realization had given him the courage to take his time, he could spend hours simply staring at her cunt, pulling her chubby cuntlips apart with his thick fingers and just staring inside, admiring the perfect craftsmanship of her flawless pussy. He liked to see what reactions he would get if he blew warmly on her splayed snatch, or what would happen if he tickled his tongue-tip over those quivering folds. Most of the time his focal point of attention remained that virgin hole he had only briefly and infrequently dabbled in with his tongue...it seemed to be a point of discomfort for her even in sleep and each time he had ever drawn the courage to dip his tongue in that tight little hole, she had whimpered and squirmed as if in pain. Of course, he stopped right then, he loved her more than he would ever hurt her - at least he still believed that. Besides, he found he enjoyed inhaling the musky, slightly tainted scent of her puckered anus more than he enjoyed seeing her squirm. He liked to grope a cheek in each paw and pull them apart so that he could blow lightly into her furless crack and then lazily lap at her butthole, a gentle sensation that seemed to draw her into a deeper sleep. Penetration still seemed to be one of those remaining barriers that seemed taboo to him, surprisingly. He could molest her all night long, touching, licking, looking...but he couldn't bring himself to probing her insides, to taking his thick cock, lining it up with her virginal cunt and thrusting into her to hear her scream in agony while her Daddy, her hero, tore away her virginity and ruined her for life. No, no matter how badly the wicked seed in him longed to flower into just that scenario, he wouldn't let it. But of the bravest acts he had taken up in his nightly rendevous with his sweet daughter, it was jacking his cock onto her pristine little body. He loved to soil her white fur with his sticky spunk. It thrilled him. It thrilled him almost as much as holding her cuntlips open with his thick fingers while he rubbed his cockhead up and down between them, rubbed his precum between her folds. He would let her pussylips go so that it could naturally take shape and envelope his fat cockhead on its own. It was heaven, like sticking his cock in warm, silky butter - the way her darling cunt seemed to kiss his cock and say 'Oh Daddy, that feels so right'...it spoke to him. He would crouch over his daughter for an hour or more with his cockhead buried in her plump little mound, rubbing about her cuntlips without ever penetrating her body. This was another one of those times he noticed her pussy would add to the lubrication of his pre by joining it with a thick, white, cream. God, it would have been so easy just to lose it during those times, to see that little cunt creaming around his cock and plow into her body. She wanted it, anybody would believe him when he pulled his cock free and showed them the evidence. Her body was begging for it. But instead, he would always pull away, lower between her small thighs and lick and suck on her pussy until there was nothing left to lick from those dewy petals. He found some perverse pleasure in tasting himself on her peach-mound, a hint of his pre mixed with her fresh taste. If he only knew that his little girl was oblivious, totally unaware that it was her body's natural reaction to such stimulation and arousal ...perhaps he wouldn't have found such a sick pleasure in it. But he wasn't wanting to hear that, didn't want to see that - he only wanted to believe that it was her body's way of calling to him, telling him to continue his twisted games, that it was all alright, society might banish him from their sight, but his daughter enjoyed it and she would forgive him and love him for it one day. ---- "I'm running late but I swear I feel like I'm forgetting something!" She was breezing about the room trying to remember if she had her keys, her jacket and purse...but there was something else. "You be a good girl for Daddy, get to sleep early, you look so tired." She fussed over her baby girl and planted a kiss to the top of her head at the dinner table and then moved over to her husband and kissed his masculine and thickly furred jaw. "Oh! I just remembered." Her voice lowered and she whispered quietly so Amelia couldn't here. "I noticed Ame kept scratching and messing with her nanu, looks like she might have a little rash, probably not wiping well enough. Make sure you put some ointment on it before she goes to bed." She kissed him again and started for the door, content that her worries would be taken care of by her dutiful husband and the wonderful father he was. If she only knew. If she only knew, that was the same thought running through Larry's head as his face took on a slightly funny and concerned expression. Ame had a rash? Since when? He saw her cunt every night and he hadn't...his line of thought made him silently curse himself and he growled deep in his chest. He was disgusted with himself. The fact that he hadn't noticed a rash on his four-year old's 'nanu' because he was perversely investigating it each night made him sick! He glanced over at Amelia sitting there expectantly, waiting to be excused to go watch television and he gave her a warm, loving smile. "Go on, go play, we won't tell Mommy." He winked at her and caught her with an 'oomph!' when she pounced into his arms and planted a happy kiss to his neck. She still loved him, even after all he'd done to her she still loved him. Kits were amazing little creatures. It dawned on him as he watched her skitter away - the rash - it was because of him. He knew it. Too much tampering with her delicate parts, maybe his tongue was too rough and the texture had given her the rash where he insisted on tasting her each night, it was his fault she was uncomfortable and her poor, precious cunny was swollen because of him. "Damn me. Damn me to hell." He muttered as he stood and gathered up the dishes, as was the usual routine. He would stand at the sink, washing them, and cursing himself, telling himself that it was over, he would never touch his daughter sexually again, he would never touch his cock and see her sweet face. Never again. ---- Despite his efforts and constant threats upon himself, that night went the same as any other night since he'd begun this perverse game of delights. Bath time had become a different event altogether - he had stopped trying to keep himself from touching her and turned it into one of the few things he could do innocently and harmlessly and yet still find as many thrills as he wanted to. He no longer tried to stay away from the 'danger zones' ...he simply washed, and washed again. He would soap up the cloth and run it over her puffy pink nipples again and again, sometimes he would even let his thumb-pad brush over them to see if they might harden to points, the kind he might like to suck on. Washing her 'nanu' as she called it was a new scenario as well, some nights he would have her bend over and he would wash her from behind, by running the cloth between her furry little cheeks, down between her thighs and up against that soft mound that he would often cup in his large hand for a moment longer than he should have. Then other nights he would have her spread her legs wide, even went so far as to have her lift one tiny foot up onto the edge of the tub so that he could 'really get her nice and clean' as he said. She rarely noticed the difference in a soapy cloth or his soapy fingers, and he took advantage of that fact by forgetting the cloth often enough. She would just stare off at the far wall or splash her tail in the water behind her while her Daddy rubbed her cunt with his fingers - she was just a little girl, she didn't know that he was doing something bad. Although the thought had often crossed his mind to join her in the tub, like he used to do when she was a baby kitten, he wasn't quite sure she would take to that so easily. She would probably be full of questions and possibly even innocently let something slip to her Mommy. But even that thrilled him, to stand naked in front of her while she was wide awake, water drizzling over them, and her barely tall enough that his cock would be level with her face. He wanted to hear those sweet words come from her mouth 'Daddy, what's that?' and maybe she would even poke his cock, or touch it, and he would crumple to his knees and teach her all about it. Just like they did in those sick stories he read online...oh yes, on the nights he couldn't get to his baby girl for one reason or another, he spent his time looking up dirty erotica, tales of fathers and daughters and the dirty things they did. The fathers in those stories always convinced their angels to turn into perverted little sluts, funnily enough. Or the girls seduced their Daddies instead. He wondered if somewhere in Amelia's innocent mind she was concocting a plan to overcome her Daddy...maybe, just maybe he would wake up one night and find his precious angel saddled up on his cock, bouncing and giggling as she fucked herself off. Wishful thinking. The only difference tonight was that he had the task of soothing her poor little nanu. It was all his fault, he was a bastard for bringing his cherished kit so much discomfort. He should have kept his disgusting impulses to himself. He had noticed how those peach-fuzzed lips had been slightly swollen and that healthy pink they were before was a darker red in some places. He wrapped her up in a towel and carried her into her bedroom, not the usual toss...just a gentle placing of his baby on the bed. He felt like a terrible shit, even moreso when he realized the thought of rubbing ointment on her delicate parts had his cock peeking from his sheath. When had he become such a foul creature? He shook it off and smiled at her, she was already starting to drift off in that happy-sleepy way. "Lay back baby, Daddy wants to help you feel better, okay?" He kissed her forehead and stroked her ears to illicit one of those soft purrs that melted his heart. "My nanu huwts Daddy..." She nodded and poked out a lip to pout and he could only console her with another brush of his whiskers along her forehead. "I know baby, I'm sorry, just lay back, relax." Funnily, as he purred out those soothing words to her and spread her thighs, he imagined this scene playing out a little differently, he imagined this was the scene one night months from now where he took her virginity, she spread her legs for him and took his cock into her tiny baby womb. He shook his head and blinked away those fantasies quickly, applied the lotion to his fingers and gently rubbed the cream into her cunt. He rubbed it in soft and gentle over the swollen folds of her pussy, and all the while he tried not to think of all those nights he spent lapping, licking and stroking...he was the cause for this, for the 'rash' as her Mommy called it, and the pain his baby felt. "That feel better, babygirl?" He glanced up to her face and noticed she had already dozed off, curled with her favorite teddy, murmuring and wriggling softly while he stroked his large fingers over her puffy mound. Her body was so limp now, she was like a rag doll and he could do anything to her he desired - he'd already noticed the way her skinny little limbs had relaxed and her thighs remained splayed so lewdly, so wide that it pulled her cuntlips apart just enough that he could get a peek of those pink folds that taunted him at night, the ones that spoke to him and said 'Lick me Daddy, it hurts so good when you do that'... He groaned and glanced down at his index finger, slick with lotion and easing a path up her slit to flick at her underdeveloped clit. Every day for the rest of his life he would try to come back to this very moment and remember what it was that provoked him, what made him cross another bold line in the dirt of sanity and insanity. But as he stared down at his finger he watched as it moved, seemingly with a life of its own, it dug a slick, soft trail down to that virgin hole, the one he had only tested briefly with his tongue. But tonight, he didn't stop, he rubbed the cream around her cunthole lightly, applied a little pressure to see how her body gave and when the tip of his digit slipped inside he rumbled up a growl and pushed until her sweet pussy gobbled his finger to the first knuckle. She whimpered softly and wiggled her backside, the movement made her cunt suckle at his finger and forced a little more inside...but she didn't wake. It was enough to startle him and he pulled his finger free, quickly, and so alarmed by his actions was he, that he stumbled back and away from her bed until he bumped into the far wall. What was he doing? He had just essentially fingered his precious girl! God, why wasn't he sick to his stomach, why didn't he want to slit his own throat? Why was he standing there with his cock throbbing, aching in his pants, and with his mind racing over how terribly tight that little hole was, how she mewled when the breach had brought her pain, how just his index finger seemed to stretch her too much. He wanted to bury his cock in her then and there, wanted to tear and rip and have his little kitten bleed on him, he wanted her blood and tears as lubrication while he mated his only child, his daughter. It was all he could do to step close enough to her to throw her blankets over her, choke back a tearful apology and run from her room to slam himself into his own and lock the door. "You fucking monster! You are a worthless piece of shit! What have you done!" He shouted at himself, kicked his computer chair across the room and crumpled to the floor to cry as he had not cried since his youth. He truly was a monster now, he had tasted sweet ambrosia and he would never let the God's keep their secret to themselves now. Slowly he was learning that the beast had been unleashed, there was no way to tame him, he had been tamed for too long...slowly he was reversing it all, breaking down walls and barriers society had placed there, he was going to break her down along the way too. God help his precious Amelia, if there was any mercy in the world he would die in a fatal car wreck on the way to work in the morning - he would never come to harm her again.