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Daddy-Daughter Erotica Four-Pack
Daddy Pounded Me From Behind on Daddy-Daughter Work Day
Daddy & His Partners GANGBANG Me on Daddy-Daughter Work Day
Pounded From the Rear By My Preacher, My DADDY
Disciplined By Daddy & My Teacher
Four Tales of Taboo Family Erotica, BDSM, Dubcon Virgin Bareback
Breeding, Creampie & Mind Control
By Deborah Cockram
© Copyright 2017 by Deborah Cockram and After Midnight Press
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Everyone in this story is 18 or older.
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Daddy Pounded Me From Behind on Daddy-Daughter Work Day
By Deborah Cockram
Cindy smiled when the door opened and she saw him there. Everyone else in the office knew him as Mr. Clay, the hard-nosed, get-it-right-the-first-time CEO.
Cindy knew him simply as Daddy, and she was so happy to be here, in his office. She'd been here for brief moments before, but this was the first time she had been allowed to come here and stay, interact with the staff.
Cindy was 18, and it was Bring Your Daughter To Work Day. Daddy had never let her come before – he said there were too many "adult" things going on at work, too much serious work. This year, though. he told her she was old enough to go with him, maybe site with Leslie, his executive secretary, learn from her what all goes into her job.
Cindy had protested that assignment a bit – her goal was to one day be just like her Daddy, the CEO, but he was old-fashioned, saying she was a woman, she would need to be something more appropriate, like and executive secretary.
"Women have a special place at work, and need to remember what that is," he had told her. Cindy didn't argue much—she was just happy to be there.
"You buzzed, Mr. Clay?" Leslie asked.
She was there, at the door as well. Just a minute earlier Daddy had buzzed Leslie on the intercom, and Cindy thought it odd that Leslie took a moment to freshen her lipstick, check out her make-up before going to her Daddy's office. She also thought Leslie looked a little flushed as she stood there, waiting on a reply.
"Yes, I did Leslie," she said. "I needed to…ah…meet with you for a few minutes, go over the, um, agenda for this afternoon's board meeting."
"Oh, can I come Daddy?" Cindy said, almost giddy with excitement. "Come where?"
"To the board meeting?"
Daddy pursed his lips. "You don't need to be there, just a bunch of boring business claptrap. Don't you worry your pretty little head over anything like that," he said, reached out, his fingers stroking through Cindy's long, blonde hair.
Cindy shuddered at the touch – she loved her Daddy, but when he did that, ran his fingers through her hair, there always seemed something other than just comfort in his touch. Something electric. Sensual. Terribly wicked.
"Oh, come on Daddy, I'm not going to be a secretary when I finish school. I'm going to be you
– the CEO one day."
Cindy was surprised when she saw red rising in her Daddy's face.
"Cindy," he said, clenching his teeth. "We've been through this already, there is a place for girls like you and Leslie, and sitting in a business office isn't one of them."
Cindy crossed her arms. "I am NOT going to be like her," she said, nodding her head to Leslie.
"Damn you girl," Daddy said. He reached out, grabbed Cindy by the arm and yanked her into the office.
"Leslie, I'm afraid I'll have to cancel for now."
Without waiting for an answer he slammed the door shut, locked it, then pulled Cindy across the large office, then pushed her down in one of the plain, cloth-covered visitor chairs in front of
his large, oak desk. He stepped to the edge of the desk, ran his fingers along the edge, then sat on the corner, one leg draped over the corner. He fingered the hard, smooth top.
“ Know what kind of wood this is?” he asked, his voice soft.
Cindy looked at him. Daddy was an average- looking man, bald on the top of his head, his face round and a little fleshy, the way men get when they age. But she knew him to be unlike any normal middle aged man. He was five-foot-ten, thick in the shoulders and arms – he worked out a lot, and could easily bench press more than double his weight.
“ I…I think it’s oak,” she said, not sure if she was supposed to give the correct answer or pretend to be dumb, so he could show off.
He smiled and nodded.
“ That’s right. That’s right.” He stopped fingering the desk, leaned over with his forearm resting on the leg draped over his desk. “Antique oak. Many executives like to use showy wood
– teak, maybe a walnut or some sort of rare African wood, but not me.”
He paused, as if for effect. “This desk was built in 1846. That’s nearly one hundred and seventy years ago, probably when your great-great-great-grandfather was alive. And it’s oak. Strong, basic, hard wood.”
He stood, walked behind her. “You should know, my little princess, I’m a strong, basic kind of guy. Old-school. I don’t like emails, I don’t do my own letters, I may be the last executive in America who calls a secretary into his office to take dictation.”
A tremble rolled through Cindy when she felt his fingers running through her long hair. “And I’m one of the last businessmen who believes in the old ways, when men were men, and
if you want something, you take it.”
He grabbed her hair and yanked, pulled her head back until she was facing the ceiling. Daddy leaned over her, pressed his lips to her mouth, his other hand playing down the front of her chest. He fondled her right breast.
Cindy squirmed, tried kicking, pushing him away, her heart suddenly racing a million beats a minute. But he was too strong, his kiss too firm and passionate, lips pressing so hard against her mouth it hurt.
Without warning he let go, stood and walked away.
"Daddy, what was that?" she asked, her hands trembling as she wiped the traces of his kiss from her mouth.
"You, my little brat, are going to learn what your place in the world is, and I'm the man to teach you."
Cindy felt a shiver go through her. "Stand up and undress."
Cindy froze. Did she hear that right?
"I said," Daddy said, unbuckling his belt. "Stand up and strip."
Cindy started shaking her head from side to side, working her mouth, though no sound came out.
In one fluid motion Daddy pulled his belt from around his waist, raising it into the air and coming down hard across her bare thighs, the sting of the leather harsh and shocking.
Cindy cried out as he did it again and again, the smack of leather on skin ringing out. "Please, no," she finally screamed.
Daddy grabbed her and yanked Cindy to her feet. Cindy was dressed in a plain white button-down blouse that hugged her body, along with a mid-thigh black skirt and matching heels. She wore no panty hose, and her bare legs were covered with red stripes now.
He grabbed her blouse and ripped, the buttons flying off. He pulled it down until the blouse fell off, fluttering to the floor as he grabbed Cindy's bra and yanked that off.
"Daddy, please," she screamed as he pulled the clothes from her body, tears streaming from her eyes.
He grabbed her by the breasts, fingers digging into her flesh as he pulled her forward, then he bent down, scooped her up, and carried her to the far wall, across the room from his desk. The wall was made of glass, but the other side was dark. Cindy saw her reflection in the mirror – her mascara was streaked down her face, her legs had red stripes on them, and her firm, larger breasts lay back, bare. He held her in his arms like she was a child.
And down deep inside her, a little tremor ran through her. A shiver of…arousal. Daddy flipped a wall switch and the other side of the glass wall was bathed in bright,
florescent light. It appeared to be a small, private conference room, dominated by a large, heavy wooden table in the middle. There were four chairs along each side, and a larger, oversized chair at the head of the table. In the middle of the table was a telephone.
He swung the glass door open, walked through, put her down. Cindy stood, arms crossed over her breasts. When the door shut, Daddy pressed a small button in a recessed panel, and she heard and saw what appeared to be metal posts slide from the bottom of the doors, locking into small holes in the floor. She assumed similar posts were in the top of the door.
Daddy grabbed the handles to both doors and gave them a yank – no movement.
“ This glass is two inches thick,” he said. “And the locks are made of steel beams. No one goes in or out unless I let them. And now, you're going to learn about a woman's place in the office."
"Please, Daddy, please…" Cindy whimpered, backing away, wanting to form the word "no," but it wouldn't come. She was scared, she was embarrassed, but she was excited in a strange way. She felt moisture between her legs. She wanted Daddy to leave her alone, to let her go… and at the same time she wanted him to take her.
He stepped toward her, and she continued back pedaling until she was cornered. Daddy smiled, though there was no humor in it. He grabbed her, turned her around and
pushed her forward, against the conference table, then he leaned against her, his weight pinning her to the table while he reached around from behind, squeezing and pinching her nipples.
Cindy screamed at the pain, at the feel of his hands on her body, at the perverse delight coursing through her body. He laughed, squeezed her nipples harshly between his index fingers and thumbs, then pulled them forward, away from her body, stretching the nipples, pulling the breasts. Cindy cried, leaning forward, forward, as far as she could over the table, yet he continued pulling, stretching.
Then he let go and her breasts sprung back, then bounced around some before coming to rest, hanging from her chest.
He stepped back, slipped his fingers inside the top of her skirt. Cindy froze – a strange tremor of … arousal flared through her body, mixed with fear and shame.
Daddy slipped his hands down further. "Ah, no panties?"
Cindy felt her face grow hot. Her Daddy has whipped her bare legs, yanked off her blouse and bra, fondled and hurt her bare breasts, yet she was suddenly embarrassed that he knew she didn't wear any panties.
"Well, my little slut of a daughter, I guess that just means you want it."
With that he yanked her skirt down, and suddenly she was there, bent over the conference table, nude.
Cindy tried standing up, but Daddy planted his hand between her shoulder blades and forced her back down. Then he grabbed her arms, yanked them behind her, then wrapped one hand around her wrists, holding her there while he undid his tie. He wrapped the tie around her wrists, and though she tried to struggle, tried to keep her hands free, he used the tie to bind her wrists so tightly she couldn't move them at all, and her fingers even started to go numb after a couple of minutes.
Cindy cried out as he slapped her ass, the pop of his hand against her ass matching the harsh, deep stinging reaching deep down into her ass muscles.
Cindy was crying loud now, openly sobbing, but she couldn't move, couldn't do anything while her Daddy spanked her bare ass.
After several minutes he stopped. She gasped, trying to catch her breath, then her heart felt as if it stopped for a second when she felt him behind her, on his knees, lips against the back of her things.
Cindy moaned. Daddy kissed along the back of her left thigh, then the right, back and forth he went, kisses climbing higher. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, fingers caressing the front of her thighs, climbing higher, higher…until his fingers touched her pussy.
"Oh Daddy," she called.
He jammed his fingers inside, so hard and deep pain flared inside her, rolling up into her stomach.
Every muscle in her body clenched as he moved his fingers around in her, pressing against her clit, sending a mixture of pain and involuntary, shameful pleasure running through her body.
He continued pressing in, balling up his hand, until his entire fist was inside her. Cindy groaned – she'd never had anything this large inside her. He stretched her, pushing his fist up inside, further, pain and that damn little thread of pleasure mingled with the growing, deeper, harder sense of pain.
Without warning he yanked his hand from her pussy.
"Oh god damn," she cried out, the sudden agony filling her, overwhelming her. "Don't you talk like that, little girly," Daddy said, his voice deep, hard.
He stepped back and then Cindy felt the sting of his belt against her ass. Over and over he struck, the leather snaking up and down the back of her legs, across her thighs. Cindy cried more, tears rolling down her face. She tried standing, but couldn't straighten up.
And she felt more desire, craving. Somewhere deep inside she was building toward climax. Finally he stopped, and she relax for a moment until she felt his hands on her ass, a powerful
hand gripping each tender, burning ass cheek. He pulled them apart, and then Cindy felt the tip of his cock against her tiny, tight little rosebud hole.
"Oh, please, please, God no, Daddy, Daddy, n-"
He shoved forward, forcing his cock into her asshole. Cindy simply screamed now, long and loud, as his cock filled her, stretched her, pulling and pressing muscles and tendons and body tissue in ways she'd never imagined possible.
Cindy was reduced to simple blubbering now, no real words coming from her mouth as he pulled back and then rammed forward again, this time going even deeper, hard, sharp, fiery agony flaring inside, running through her body.
Back he pulled and then thrust forward, deeper still, his cock filling her in ways Cindy never knew was possible, jags of pain bolting through her body.
Daddy began thrusting harder and faster now, oh-so-fast, and Cindy felt like her ass was on fire, burning with each thrust. And now, with each deep thrust, it felt as if he were striking some nerve, sending little tremors of pleasure, of arousal, mingling with the intense pain, pushing her building orgasm even higher.
"Oh my fucking little cunt," Daddy cried out as his thrusts became more urgent, his body tensed, and then Cindy felt him cum, his semen shooting up inside her, filling her, coating his now-slick cock as Daddy continue thrusting, pumping, filling her.
She felt the cum rolling from her ass now, down her legs,
Cindy lay there, her tender nipples pressed down against the hard wood of the table, as Daddy continued cumming, burning her ass with each thrust.
And then he thrust one harder, oh-so-much deeper time, cried out, and then he was gone. She lay there, across the table, her ass absolutely on fire, gasping, heart pounding, lungs
burning, tears rolling from her eyes.
After a few minutes she heard movement behind her, the rustle of cloth, the jangle of a belt buck, and then Daddy's hand was on her head, yanking her up by her hair.
Daddy was dressed. He ran his hand down her body once more, pressing his hand against each breasts, then he say her down in one of the conference chairs.
"You sit here, get control of yourself. In a bit I'll send in Lindsey, she'll clean you up, give you some clothes. Then you can sit here, with her, during our board meeting this afternoon. Maybe I'll show you what a real woman's place is in the board room."
With that he turned and walked out, turning off the light, leaving Cindy in the dark, nude, hands still bound, weeping, wanting SO BAD to cum, to be allowed to come to climax.
And wondering what Daddy meant.
Daddy & His Partners GANGBANG Me on Daddy-Daughter Work Day
By Deborah Cockram
Cindy sat at in the chair, next to Leslie's desk, sniffling quietly. She'd just managed to finally stop crying, after her Daddy had stripped her, whipped her harshly with his belt, then ass-fucked her in his private little conference room, and now she waited to be called back in there, no idea what he might do to her next.
Cindy's day had started so differently – she was excited to accompany her Daddy to his office on Daddy-Daughter Work Day. He had never let her do that before, but now that she was 18, he said she was adult-enough to see how the real world worked.
Apparently, the real world – at least as far as he Daddy's part of it – worked however he wanted it, or he used his cock to pound everyone into submission.