{"sf1_id":214328,"sf2_id":"Zeq0qqv1","title":"Family Ties - Chapter Two","author":"tobiasfoxx","words":5387,"posted_at":"2011-01-18T20:44:00.000Z","tags":["Impregnation","Incest","Knot","M/F","Mild Bondage"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/214328-family-ties-chapter-two","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/Zeq0qqv1","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/05/aa/05aa3c46-ab2c-40bf-a762-4bd2e2ea44b2","description":"#2 of Family Ties","content":"Author: Tobias Foxx  \nTitle: Fatherly Love  \nPart: Chapter 2  \nSummary: A father is presented with the chance to be everything his daughter wants.  \nKeywords: furry, Mf, inc, bond, preg, knot\n\nFatherly Love  \n  \nMy name is David Michael Deverough, father of Deborah Diangelo Deverough  \nand widower of the late Jeanette Leslie Deverough.\u0026nbsp; I'm a forty-four year old lupine  \nmale.\u0026nbsp; I stand six feet and two inches tall, with brownish black fur coating my body.\u0026nbsp; My  \nwife used to say it looked as though I had been dipped in chocolate syrup when I was  \nborn and never washed it off.\u0026nbsp; It lightens only slightly across my stomach and chest,  \ngiving the fur there a silvered look, though there are decidedly tannish speckles that dot  \nmy coat here and there like freckles.\u0026nbsp; Also, I've begun to notice a few gray furs amidst  \nmy coat, mostly around the muzzle and temple, though I found a few in my tail the other  \nday.\u0026nbsp; It makes me feel like I'm getting old, though no one else seems to think so.\u0026nbsp; I've  \nbeen told that I have strong facial features, though I never really stopped to analyze  \nmyself and tell for certain.\u0026nbsp; I do know I was handsome enough in my youth to snare the  \nmost delicious female I'd ever laid eyes on and kept enough of my looks that she never  \nlost interest in me.\u0026nbsp; I'm well proportioned for my size, though my paws are a bit big.\u0026nbsp; I  \nwas teased for it as a child, until the old adage proved true.\u0026nbsp; I keep myself in good shape,  \nhalf out of habit and half because my wife loved the smell of me after a good workout.\n\n\u0026nbsp; My wife died six years, five months, and... seventeen?\u0026nbsp; Seventeen days ago.\u0026nbsp; Two  \nweeks ago, I could have told you down to the minute.\u0026nbsp; Not now.\u0026nbsp; I've always defined  \nmyself by what I was.\u0026nbsp; When I was a child, I was my parents' son.\u0026nbsp; I joined the Army  \nafter high school and became a soldier.\u0026nbsp; I met Jeanie and became a husband.\u0026nbsp; Then came  \nfatherhood with the birth of my darling Debbie.\u0026nbsp; I defined myself, my purpose in the  \nworld, by caring for my daughter and wife.\u0026nbsp; Jeanie was the breadwinner and I was the  \nhomemaker.\u0026nbsp; I cared for Debbie during the day while my wife was working, and when  \nshe got home I made dinner and gave her a massage.\u0026nbsp; Together we would tuck Debbie in  \nand read her a story, and then we would make love and lay in each other's arms until the  \nmorning.\u0026nbsp; Every year we would hop in the old station wagon and tour around to visit our  \nfamilies for Thanksgiving and Christmas.\u0026nbsp; Every year on our anniversary, we'd go back  \nto the restaurant where I proposed and fall in love all over again.\u0026nbsp; Admittedly, things  \nwere tough at the start of our marriage, but over the course of ten years we forged a  \nmarriage and a family that was destined to last until the stars fell from the sky.\u0026nbsp; It was a  \ndream, a beautiful, glorious dream.\u0026nbsp; But all dreams must end.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; My Jeanie was killed, stolen from me by cruel fate and fickle chance.\u0026nbsp; It tore me  \napart, broke me in ways I never knew I could be broken.\u0026nbsp; Half my world was ripped  \naway.\u0026nbsp; All I had left was Debbie.\u0026nbsp; I had to be strong for her, I had to be there for her, be  \nthe father she knew so that she could grow past the sorrow.\u0026nbsp; I put on a strong face, but... I  \nnever got over it really myself.\u0026nbsp; I've tried dating over the years since, but it hasn't worked  \nout very well.\u0026nbsp; None of them measure up, none of them are Jeanie.\u0026nbsp; I know no one can be,  \nbut knowing that doesn't do anything to change my expectations.\u0026nbsp; Mostly, I've devoted  \nmyself to my daughter, to my Debbie.\u0026nbsp; She's the main reason I'm still alive.\u0026nbsp; Even she  \ncouldn't take the place of her mother, but she certainly filled in a large portion of the hole  \nin my heart.\u0026nbsp; Late at night, sometimes, when I'm alone and she's asleep, I just get so...  \nlonely.\u0026nbsp; I remember what it was like when Jeanie was alive and how happy we were, how  \nbeautiful everything was, how beautiful she was, how perfect, how wondrous...\u0026nbsp; I cry  \nthen, and I'm not ashamed to admit it.\u0026nbsp; I think my crying days are done, though.\u0026nbsp; Last  \nnight, my darling Debbie gave me her virginity, her heart, and her soul.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Debbie could be Jeanie's identical twin.\u0026nbsp; Last night, I had been dreaming of my  \nwife.\u0026nbsp; When I woke up...\u0026nbsp; I wasn't sure that I was awake at all.\u0026nbsp; I'm almost positive I  \ncalled Jeanie's name before the pervasive scent of my daughter filtered into my sleep-  \naddled mind.\u0026nbsp; There was my little angel, my darling Debbie, straddling my waist with my  \nachingly hard shaft plunged into her virgin love tunnel.\u0026nbsp; I was shocked to say the least. \u0026nbsp;  \nConfused, angry, surprised, hurt.\u0026nbsp; I was bound hand and paw to my own bed while my  \ndaughter fucked herself on my cock.\u0026nbsp; How was I to respond to this situation?\u0026nbsp; I've tried to  \nbe more to Debbie than just a father.\u0026nbsp; I've done my best to keep involved in her life, to  \nkeep up with her habits and trends.\u0026nbsp; I've tried to be there for her as a friend as well as a  \nparent.\u0026nbsp; I love her more than life itself.\u0026nbsp; It pains me, almost physically, to see her sad or  \nhurt or depressed.\u0026nbsp; And I understand that she deals with most of her emotions by having  \nsex.\u0026nbsp; I know it's not the healthiest outlet, but it's one she enjoys and hurts no one.\u0026nbsp; She's  \nalways been very careful about her partners, made sure they understood her limits and  \nrespected them.\u0026nbsp; The few times she made mistakes, they weren't major and were easily  \ncorrected thanks to the self-defense classes I sent her to after Jeanie died.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; What then was I to think of my Debbie slamming herself down onto me like there  \nwas no tomorrow?\u0026nbsp; I was particularly concerned by the fact that she wasn't taking me  \nanally.\u0026nbsp; That was one of the few things that had been consistent in her sexual career.\u0026nbsp; She  \ntold me once, when I asked, that she wanted to save something for the right male when  \nshe finally found him.\u0026nbsp; What disaster could possibly have possessed her to do this?\u0026nbsp; To  \nmate me, of all people, in the first place, and to give me her virginity, in the second?\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; I  \ncould barely think straight enough to ask, barely form words through the haze of  \npleasure.\u0026nbsp; She may have been taking me in a virgin hole, but she was by no means  \ninexperienced.\u0026nbsp; I knew they called her a slut and worse behind her back, but every male  \nin the county knew her name and was clamoring to get into her pants.\u0026nbsp; Now I was being  \ntreated to a very personal demonstration of why.\u0026nbsp; I hadn't had sex in... years at that point. \u0026nbsp;  \nIt was excruciatingly pleasurable, painfully pleasant.\u0026nbsp; There's no word in the English  \nlanguage to describe it properly.\u0026nbsp; Pleasure is so weak a word and so oft used, it has lost  \nits power.\u0026nbsp; Ecstasy seems a more mental than physical descriptor, as does bliss.\u0026nbsp; To put it  \nsimply, it was like being tortured by the most skilled interrogator ever, only I didn't even  \nknow the question much less the answer.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Her response to my inquiry was equally befuddling.\u0026nbsp; Loving me, she said.\u0026nbsp; Loving  \nme.\u0026nbsp; What was I to make of that?\u0026nbsp; I lost the question in a haze of passion as she rode me  \nto orgasm, tied with me, took my seed deep within her womb.\u0026nbsp; It wasn't until afterwards  \nas she lay sobbing on my chest that it dawned on me what she meant.\u0026nbsp; She was giving  \nherself to me.\u0026nbsp; To -me-.\u0026nbsp; Of all the males she had been with, of all the males in the free  \nstates of the union, she was giving herself to -me-.\u0026nbsp; She loved me, loved me as I loved  \nher, and was expressing it in the only way she knew how, telling me with word and  \naction how deeply she cared.\u0026nbsp; And I had said nothing, given her no clue that I understood,  \nletting her fall broken across me.\u0026nbsp; I could see the sorrow, hear it in her racking sobs.\u0026nbsp; She  \nthought she had done something horrendous, that I didn't understand or wouldn't  \nunderstand or couldn't understand.\u0026nbsp; That I didn't love her.\u0026nbsp; I held her tight and stroked  \nher hair as I had when she was a child with a scraped knee and soothed her worries.\u0026nbsp; She  \nkissed me with a fierce passion I had so loved in her mother.\u0026nbsp; The fire of it burned clear  \nthrough to my soul.\u0026nbsp; Then she lay her head on my chest once more and fell asleep as I  \nstroked her.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; I lay awake for a long time.\u0026nbsp; There was nothing in my mind but a sense of  \ncontentment.\u0026nbsp; I felt... complete in a way that I hadn't since Jeanie was stolen from us.\u0026nbsp; I  \nfelt whole again.\u0026nbsp; There was nothing else in the world I wanted at that moment than to lay  \nthere with her forever.\u0026nbsp; And, I realized, I could.\u0026nbsp; Never again would she need seek out  \nothers to use her body for the paltry pleasure it would provide her.\u0026nbsp; Never again would I  \nneed to lay alone in my bed pining over lost love.\u0026nbsp; We could provide for each other, care  \nfor each other, love each other.\u0026nbsp; I could complete her as she had completed me.\u0026nbsp; I had  \nnever before thought of such a thing.\u0026nbsp; Never had I lusted for my daughter.\u0026nbsp; I helped her to  \nmasturbate once or twice, when she was so depressed over one thing or another that I  \ncould think of nothing else to do, but I had never found physical attraction with her.\u0026nbsp; Nor,  \nI felt, had it been pure physical attraction for her either.\u0026nbsp; She had a deep-seated need  \nwithin her that she had found no other means to fill than mindless sex.\u0026nbsp; I cried, quietly,  \nsilently, and held her tight as I realized how selfish I had been.\u0026nbsp; I had spent so long being  \nlonely.\u0026nbsp; I hadn't noticed how lonely she was, how she missed her mother perhaps even  \nmore than I did.\u0026nbsp; I had failed her in the very manner I had sought to succeed.\u0026nbsp; But no  \nlonger.\u0026nbsp; No more loneliness, for either of us, ever again.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; It was an overwhelming flood that swept over me.\u0026nbsp; It was like my first night with  \nJeanie.\u0026nbsp; It was a confirmation and consummation of the love we felt for each other.\u0026nbsp; I  \nlooked with new eyes upon my daughter, my love, my life.\u0026nbsp; It dawned on me then that I  \ncould be a husband once more.\u0026nbsp; Incest, while not wholly condoned within our society,  \ndoes not retain the stigma our human creators put upon it, mostly because our genomes  \nare almost wholly without defect.\u0026nbsp; When brother and sister may breed and produce  \ncompletely healthy offspring, there's little other than propriety stopping them from doing  \nso.\u0026nbsp; Unions such as our own were less heard of but would be accepted.\u0026nbsp; With our  \ncumulative population so small, some species being comprised of less than one hundred  \nindividuals, it was even encouraged in some cases.  \n  \nI nuzzled against my daughter's head, inhaling deeply of her scent as I  \ncontemplated our future.\u0026nbsp; We could marry, have children and raise them together.\u0026nbsp; We  \ncould live the life I had dreamed of for Jeanie and I.\u0026nbsp; Of course, it would have to wait  \nuntil she finished school.\u0026nbsp; I wouldn't want to steal her education from her to sate my own  \nselfish needs.\u0026nbsp; Hopefully, she would go to college as well.\u0026nbsp; She had never expressed  \ninterest in doing so, even though she was a sophomore this year and really needed to start  \nthinking of such things.\u0026nbsp; Her interests had always lain in more physical things, of course,  \nbut I have always thought it important that she expand her mind as well.\u0026nbsp; She was an  \nexcellent gymnast.\u0026nbsp; Perhaps I should encourage her to pursue that and hopefully get a  \nscholarship from it.\u0026nbsp; My hands stroked her small, lithe form as I heaved a sigh.\u0026nbsp; Such  \nconcerns could wait for the morning.\u0026nbsp; I let myself drift off into sleep with the scent of my  \ndaughter still heavy upon the air and my shaft still embedded within her.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; I awoke nearly an hour ago.\u0026nbsp; The clock read 6:04am.\u0026nbsp; I got maybe five hours of  \nsleep but I don't feel tired in the slightest.\u0026nbsp; I feel... contented.\u0026nbsp; The warm glow hasn't left  \nme yet, and I hope it never does.\u0026nbsp; It was kind of like when Debbie was younger and  \nwould crawl into my bed after a nightmare when I opened my eyes to see her sleeping on  \nmy chest.\u0026nbsp; It was also like when Jeanie and I had first been married, finding her sleeping  \noff our night's exercise, still covered in my scent.\u0026nbsp; It is an odd mingling of emotions that I  \nfeel now.\u0026nbsp; I love my daughter as my daughter, as my child and the fruit of my loins, but I  \nalso love her for the gift of herself, as my mate and future wife, the future mother of our  \nchildren.\u0026nbsp; I can't help but smile at that, my sheath beginning to plump as I consider the  \nfun we'll have making those children, the joy we'll share in so many ways, in so many  \nplaces.\u0026nbsp; Never before had such thoughts invaded my mind, but now I can't get rid of  \nthem.  \n  \nIt occurs to me that I had never heard of her practicing bondage before, but the  \nknots she used last night were more than strong enough to hold me.\u0026nbsp; I glance at the silken  \nties holding my paws spread then at those dangling free from the head posts and an idea  \noccurs to me.\u0026nbsp; Jeanie was always Alpha bitch in the board room, but when she came  \nhome...\u0026nbsp; Perhaps Debbie has the same tendencies.\u0026nbsp; Slowly, I shift my daughter, thankful  \nthat she is a heavy sleeper.\u0026nbsp; One more thing she inherited from me.\u0026nbsp; When she is lying  \nhuddled at my side, I sit up and proceed to release the last of my bonds.\u0026nbsp; That done, I slip  \nfrom the bed and give a luxurious stretch, reveling in the creak and pop of my joints.\u0026nbsp; I  \ndidn't used to pop like that.\u0026nbsp; Five years ago it wouldn't have sounded like a machine gun  \nwhen I stretched my back.\u0026nbsp; Yet another sign of my aging.\u0026nbsp; This morning, I don't care. \u0026nbsp;  \nI'm happy to be alive and to be with someone I love so dearly.\u0026nbsp; The insistent pulse of my  \nbladder urges me to take care of morning business, so I do, keeping an eye on my  \nslumbering mate through the bathroom door.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; What to do with her, what to do.\u0026nbsp; I can think of more than a few things, but one in  \nparticular comes to mind, a favorite of Jeanie's.\u0026nbsp; I shake myself off as I feel myself  \nbeginning to harden at the mere thought.\u0026nbsp; That brings me a moment's pause.\u0026nbsp; I stand by  \nthe foot of the bed, looking down at her, letting my eyes trail over her lithe form.\u0026nbsp; This  \ncannot be about sex, ever, our relationship.\u0026nbsp; Sex will be part of it; Debbie will see to that,  \nbut sex can never be a top priority for me.\u0026nbsp; I can't allow that.\u0026nbsp; It would make me no better  \nthan those boys she wasted so much time with.\u0026nbsp; Of course, I also can't let her think I'm  \nuninterested.\u0026nbsp; That would hurt her deeply.\u0026nbsp; She's beautiful, sexy, and she knows it.\u0026nbsp; If she  \nthought I found her unattractive...\u0026nbsp; I refuse to contemplate that kind of pain for her.\u0026nbsp; No, I  \nwill most certainly mate her, and repeatedly, but I'll show her in more ways than mere  \nphysical release how I care for her.\u0026nbsp; For the moment though, I can't help the smirk from  \nforming on my lips as I think of all the delicious escapades that are to come.\u0026nbsp; Debbie has  \nalways had a penchant for public display, and I know of a secluded spot in the park where  \nwe could have all the fun we wanted provided she could keep herself quiet.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; That will come later, though.\u0026nbsp; This morning, I have four pink ribbons and one  \nunconscious female in no position to argue with whatever I might do to her.\u0026nbsp; I roll her  \nonto her stomach, placing her in the center of the bed, and bring her arms behind her,  \nusing two of the ribbons to tie them together, wrist to elbow, then fold her legs and use  \nthe other two to keep them that way.\u0026nbsp; I push her knees beneath her to lift her rump,  \nsetting her into the proper mating position and admire my work, her form, that delectable  \nrump, toes curling against delicate paws, back arched, tail hanging limp.\u0026nbsp; I give a growl  \nof need, my hand finding a rock hard shaft between my legs, drooling with preseminal  \nfluid.\u0026nbsp; I may not allow sex to become a top priority, but I cannot deny that I want her.\u0026nbsp; I  \nslip onto the bed behind her, leading with my nose as I inhale her delicious scent, nuzzle  \nat those tender paw pads, hear her giggle drowsily as her toes curl from the cold contact. \u0026nbsp;  \nI give them a lick before trailing over her rump with light nips and tongue caresses,  \nslobbering my way to the prize in the center.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; I don't even have to nudge aside her tail.\u0026nbsp; It has lifted of its own accord, arching  \nup over her back, revealing the tender pink of her tailhole and the moist line of her slit.\u0026nbsp; I  \nlick my lips at the sight, wondering if she tastes as good as her mother did.\u0026nbsp; For a  \nmoment, I pause again, the sheer audacity of such a thought striking me, but I push it  \naside.\u0026nbsp; She gave herself to me, and I want her.\u0026nbsp; I close my eyes as I press my nose to that  \nwarm, wet space between her legs, inhaling deeply, my tongue flicking out to lap up a  \nsmall taste of her.\u0026nbsp; There is some of myself there, in her scent and taste, left over from  \nour midnight mating, her fur sticky with dried fluids.\u0026nbsp; There is something else too, subtle,  \nbarely sensed, that makes my blood boil and my hard maleness ache to be inside of her. \u0026nbsp;  \nThe devious little bitch.\u0026nbsp; She's in heat.  \n  \nI pull back, kneeling behind her, head cocked to the side like a confused dog. \u0026nbsp;  \nShe's in heat.\u0026nbsp; The implications slowly dawn on me.\u0026nbsp; She has never been on any kind of  \nbirth control, never needed it, and I was most certainly not wearing any kind of protection  \nlast night.\u0026nbsp; She's in heat, and she took my seed into her deepest recesses without the  \nslightest hesitation.\u0026nbsp; My eyes widen as I realize how much she has given me, how great  \nher need for me must have been.\u0026nbsp; Even had I rejected her, she would have been left with  \nsomething of our joining for years to come.\u0026nbsp; She knows my stance on abortion, knows I  \nwould never ask her to give up a litter.\u0026nbsp; And now she will be carrying mine.\u0026nbsp; I can't help  \nthe paternal warmth that suffuses me, making me feel like I must be glowing.\u0026nbsp; I'm so full  \nof love for my daughter, my mate, my only, I almost wish I could explode and shower the  \nwhole world with it.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; That devious bitch.\u0026nbsp; Well, time for some payback then.\u0026nbsp; I press my nose once  \nmore to her feminine sex, inhaling deep of its musky scent, letting the tingle of instinctual  \nlust spread through me, but holding myself in check.\u0026nbsp; I can barely contain myself from  \nmounting her right then and there, plunging myself into her until we tie and I can dump  \nmy seed deep inside of her, but I manage.\u0026nbsp; Instead, I play my tongue against those  \ndelicate petals, watching as they moisten with more than my saliva, puff and spread to  \nreveal the inner leaves, the little nubbin at the head of her cleft, the winking pucker that  \nleads to her womb.\u0026nbsp; She moans softly under my ministrations, still asleep for the most  \npart.\u0026nbsp; I wonder what she is dreaming about as I concentrate my efforts on bringing her clit  \nto full bloom.\u0026nbsp; It doesn't take all that long before it is rock hard against my tongue, hood  \nfallen away to reveal its swollen redness.\u0026nbsp; Her legs twitch and her entrance clenches  \nvisibly every time I swipe my length across it.\u0026nbsp; I take it between my lips, suckling  \ntenderly upon it, lashing it with my tongue, her moans quickly increasing their tempo and  \npitch.\u0026nbsp; When I sense she is near the edge, I close my teeth upon it, biting hard but not  \nenough to draw blood.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; As with her mother, I am rewarded by a high-pitched squeal, not quite a yelp of  \npain, not quite a cry of pleasure, but her juices splash against my muzzle along with a  \nsquirt of sharply acrid urine.\u0026nbsp; As if I needed more proof that she was in heat.\u0026nbsp; I keep my  \nhold on that tender little bit as she quivers and rocks, grinding against my nose, the scent  \nof her filling me with more desire than I can bear.\u0026nbsp; When at last she quiets, I slowly move  \nover her, letting my shaft slip between her folds to stroke its length against her inner  \npetals, growling with the burning heat of her against my hard flesh.\u0026nbsp; She is awake now,  \nobviously, looking up at me with a tender smile and soft whimpers as the aftershocks  \ncourse through her.  \n  \n\"G'morin, Daddy,\" she mumbles groggily.  \n  \n\"You're in heat,\" comes my accusatory response.  \n  \nThat gets her attention, eyes opening wide, mouth caught in a surprised O.\u0026nbsp; \"I-I-I  \ndidn't-\u0026nbsp; I mean I wanted to- I...\u0026nbsp; Daddy, please, don't be mad at me, please don't make  \nme get rid of them, I want them so bad, I want YOU, Daddy!\u0026nbsp; I love you, and I'm sorry,  \nI'm sorry, please... please...\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; She devolves into sobs, and I lean down to nuzzle against her neck and lick the  \ntears from her cheeks, letting her feel my love through action, and my lack of objection in  \nthe way I grind myself against her.\u0026nbsp; It only takes a minute or two.\u0026nbsp; She has always been a  \nbright girl.  \n  \n\"You want my puppies, baby, then I'm going to make sure you have a nice big  \nlitter,\" I whispered into her ear, drawing my hips back until the tip of my shaft pressed  \nagainst her entrance.\u0026nbsp; \"I love you, too, daughter.\"  \n  \n\"Oh, Daddy, please...\u0026nbsp; I'm... still a little sore from last night.\"  \n  \n\"Well, honey, you should have thought of that before you let me wake up with a  \nhot bitch in my bed.\"  \n  \nFurther protest is cut off when I take her scruff between my teeth and plunge  \nmyself knot deep inside of her.\u0026nbsp; She gasps, squeezing tight around me, and I growl for my  \npart, feeling her around me once more, and I can't help but think how right it felt to be  \ninside of her.\u0026nbsp; Perhaps that is logic trying to reconcile with emotion, reasoning with  \nromance, but that doesn't matter.\u0026nbsp; All that matters is making my daughter happy.\u0026nbsp; I draw  \nback slowly, letting her sore, tender walls feel every inch of me, feeling her cervix slip  \nclosed behind my head as I withdraw, feeling the beat of her pulse as she squirms beneath  \nand around me.\u0026nbsp; When barely my tip remains inside, I slam myself home, drawing  \nanother sharp gasp.\u0026nbsp; I grind my knot against her opening for a moment then pull back  \nonce more, just as slowly.\u0026nbsp; I drive myself inwards just as hard.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; It is euphoric, feeling her clench and squeeze, hearing her soft sounds of pleasure  \nand complaint, knowing that she is helpless to stop my claiming of her body and that she  \nenjoys that helplessness.\u0026nbsp; That she is sore I have no doubt; she rode me hard and fast last  \nnight.\u0026nbsp; Today, I'll give it to her hard and -slow- and make her all the more sore, but all  \nthe more needful.\u0026nbsp; She is like Janie in so many other things.\u0026nbsp; It is a safe bet that she will  \nbe back for more before the day is over.\u0026nbsp; Of course, I have to finish this round first, and  \nshe is doing her best to make sure I do it quickly.\u0026nbsp; For all her whining, she is milking my  \nshaft like a hungry infant suckling at teat.\u0026nbsp; Muscular ripples flow along my shaft from  \nentrance to womb each time I plant myself inside of her.\u0026nbsp; If her mother had possessed as  \nmuch talent as my daughter, we may never have left the bedroom.  \n  \nThat thought gives me another moment's pause as I scratch it out, rip it up, light it  \non fire, piss on the ashes, and bury the recriminating echoes somewhere dark and deep.\u0026nbsp; I  \ngive my brain a thorough talking to about letting such trash hang around.\u0026nbsp; Of course, I  \ncannot long be distracted with a willing female writhing so needfully beneath me.\u0026nbsp; She  \nhas talent; I have stamina.\u0026nbsp; I keep dragging it out, slow thrust after slow thrust, until she  \nis whining and whimpering for it.\u0026nbsp; So, I switch it up: swift retreat followed by long, slow  \nentry.\u0026nbsp; It is agonizing for both of us.\u0026nbsp; Every inch of me wants nothing more than to pound  \nher hard and fast, knot her, tie her, breed her.\u0026nbsp; The twitching of her tunnel around me  \ndoesn't help at all.\u0026nbsp; Each time my knot presses against her sopping nethers, I give a few  \nhard grinds against her clit, eliciting shuddering moans.\u0026nbsp; She is wet as much with my own  \npre spilling out as with her delectable juices.\u0026nbsp; It makes her so slick, I slide in and out  \neasily despite her clenching.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; This gives me another idea, something my wife enjoyed every once in a while.\u0026nbsp; I  \npress myself with painful slowness until my knot rests against her flesh.\u0026nbsp; I wiggle  \nslightly, spreading her petals with it, baring her entrance to its bulk.\u0026nbsp; It is sizeable, even  \nwithout being fully swollen, and I'm not surprised that it made her bleed last night.\u0026nbsp; She  \nwas a virgin after all and took it hard.\u0026nbsp; This time, it will be easier, gentler.\u0026nbsp; I take tight  \nhold of her hips, pulling back as I press forward, wriggling my hips against her rump,  \nfeeling her beginning to spread, the delicious heat slowly spreading over my flesh to  \nenvelop it fully, then snapping closed behind it.\u0026nbsp; I take a second to savor the feel of her  \nflesh engulfing mine, then jerk back, a wet slurp sounding as my knot pops free.\u0026nbsp; My  \ndaughter lets out a sharp gasp and I feel her quiver beneath me, her entire body vibrating  \nfor a few seconds as shocks of microgasm flash through her.\u0026nbsp; I grin around my mouthful  \nof scruff and press myself slowly back in then pull free once more.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \"Please!\" she whimpers.\u0026nbsp; \"P-please, Daddy!\u0026nbsp; D-don't... d-don't...\"  \n  \nShe can't get out anything more coherent, but I know what she means.\u0026nbsp; Don't take  \nit out.\u0026nbsp; Don't stop.\u0026nbsp; Don't do this to me, you bastard.\u0026nbsp; I let out a soft growl and keep it up. \u0026nbsp;  \nI know I'm stoking her need to bonfire heights.\u0026nbsp; She wants it so bad she can taste it.\u0026nbsp; So  \ncan I for that matter, but I'm in a position to give or withhold as I see fit.\u0026nbsp; I knot her  \nagain, give a few quick thrusts, the bulge of flesh at my base tugging at her entrance,  \nstretching her before popping free once more to grind against her clit.\u0026nbsp; She is a  \nshuddering mess in no time, panting out parts of words and drooling oh so adorably  \nagainst the sheets.\u0026nbsp; I can barely stand the tension building inside of me.\u0026nbsp; I can feel my  \nballs tensing, an ache starting to grow inside them as they threaten to release against my  \nwishes.  \n  \nI can't hold out any longer.\u0026nbsp; At last, I give in to both our desires.\u0026nbsp; Sliding myself  \nalmost entirely free, I slam into her and drive hard, fast, the wet slap of flesh meeting  \nflesh filling our bedroom, her scent so heavy in my nose I don't think I'll ever smell  \nanything else, my laden sack slapping against her clit, her flesh quivering around me as  \nmine pulses within hers.\u0026nbsp; And then the finale.\u0026nbsp; I plant myself hard and deep, my tip inside  \nher womb, my balls pressed firmly to her slit, my knot swelling to lock inside of her as I  \nlift my head to howl.\u0026nbsp; I can feel my hefty orbs pulsing and pulling up as they release spurt  \nafter powerful spurt into her inner sanctum, painting her inner walls with my male  \nessence.\u0026nbsp; She is mine, irrevocably and entirely.\u0026nbsp; My daughter, my mate, my love.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; I lie atop her, licking at her scruff as I pant and she whimpers with aftershocks.\u0026nbsp; It  \ntakes some twenty minutes by the bedside clock before I have the energy to pull away  \nfrom her.\u0026nbsp; I slide a pillow under her knees, setting her rump even higher, making sure that  \nnone of my seed can dribble out of her, keeping every last drop in the place it will do the  \nmost good.\u0026nbsp; I leave her like that as I pad across to the bathroom and gingerly urinate for a  \nsecond time.\u0026nbsp; My cock is as tender and sensitive as her poor little cunny must be.  \n  \n\"D-daddy?\" she pants out as I finish.\u0026nbsp; \"Wh-what about me?\"  \n  \nI grin as I return to the bed, settling myself on my knees before her head, my still  \nhard shaft bobbing above her, dribbles of cum still dripping from the tip to drizzle across  \nher muzzle.\u0026nbsp; She gets the hint and begins to lap at my balls and knot, all she can reach.\u0026nbsp; I  \nmurr softly, pleasure radiating from my male bits.\u0026nbsp; It always feels good to have a female  \ntongue, or any tongue for that matter, licking at me.\u0026nbsp; I use a finger to angle the tip down,  \nletting her take my length in her mouth, slurping at it like a Popsicle, earning herself a  \nfew spurts to swallow.\u0026nbsp; When I pull back she repeats her question, smiling up at me.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \"Well, what about you?\" I reply.\u0026nbsp; \"You wanted to get yourself knocked up, and  \nI'm going to make sure it happens.\"  \n  \nShe giggls.\u0026nbsp; \"No, I mean I hafta pee!\"  \n  \nI grin down at her.\u0026nbsp; \"I know.\u0026nbsp; But you'd leak right now, so I guess you'll have to  \nhold it.\"  \n  \nHer expression is comic.\u0026nbsp; \"B-but...\u0026nbsp; But Daddy!\"  \n  \nI chuckle as I gather her into my arms and carry her into the bathroom.\u0026nbsp; I wipe her  \nafter she is done and carry her back to the bed, putting her back into position.  \n  \n\"Are you really gonna make me stay like this all week?\"  \n  \nI rub my shaft against her cheeks and muzzle as I contemplate.\u0026nbsp; \"Well, it -is- fall  \nbreak.\u0026nbsp; Just be glad you didn't pull this stunt during the school year.\u0026nbsp; So, yes, I'm going  \nto keep you in my bed and on my cock all week long.\u0026nbsp; You wanted it, you got it.\"  \n  \n\"Do I hafta stay tied up?\"  \n  \n\"Well... if you're a good little bitch, I might let you out for walkies.\"  \n  \nShe laughs until I get up and go to my closet.\u0026nbsp; I kept some of Janie's things, and I  \npull from an old shoe box a collar and leash, both pink leather.\u0026nbsp; I show Debbie the name  \ntag, Bitch, before putting the collar around her neck.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \"You're kinky, Dad,\" she comments with a grin.  \n  \n\"You okay with this?\" I inquire.\u0026nbsp; I have to make sure.\u0026nbsp; I'll play her games no  \nmatter what, bud I'd like t play some of my own.  \n  \nShe answered with a bark and wagged her tail.\u0026nbsp; I could see it was going to be a  \nfun week.  \n  \n\n","series":{"name":"Family Ties","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/59299-family-ties-chapter-one.json"}}