Daphne Darwin, a dom daughter desiring Daddy [Deadedge]

Dirty. Everything about Daphne’s room was dirty, in one way or another. Even the light crawling through her window shades seemed grim. The growling hum of music that had been turned down quite a bit was, appropriately, grunge. She allowed the low roaring, pounding sound to score the scene but rather as an accompaniment to the more pronounced, rhythmic squelching noise.

Slivers of grey highlighted various bits of mess… junk strewn over a cluttered desk, clothes hanging off a sagging chair or simply laying on the floor, discarded and used. A couple of pairs of underwear that Daphne had soaked through, let dry, then became too much of discomfort to keep wearing, had simply been peeled away and left on the carpet. Old tank tops that had absorbed the sweat and oil from her skin and yearned to be washed were piled on what was meant to be a computer chair. The only reason the seat was still slotted neatly under the desk was so that it wasn’t in the way of her, only slightly grimy, full length mirror.

“Fuck… yeah… c’mon little daddy…” she rasped to herself, throat a touch dry because she’d been quenching her thirst all day with little more than sugary energy drinks. Some sticky, almost yellow specks of it were on her chin, and if she licked her lips she found the sweet tang almost more invigorating than the caffeine pumping through her body. The other thing pumping through her body, or more specifically, in and out of her sloppy, oozing pussy, lips pink and swollen, was a slick blue dildo. It was eight inches long but she needed the extra length to fit her thick fingers around the base to allow the best leverage. She liked watching the balls wobble, jiggling there below her grip. A dick had to have balls. It almost made it look like she had a set of testicles herself, the girl laying propped up on her bed like this, knees apart in front of her rabid reflection.

She put on this dirty little show for herself every other day. She loved the sight of it, narcissistic as she was, proud of her athletic form in such a depraved position. Her frothing arousal continually dripping into her already soaked bedsheet... The way her nipples poke through the green, sweat damp cotton tank top her ample tits already stretched thin.... Her own glistening, olive skin, droplets of moisture trembling on her muscular thighs and rippling arms... And the used panties on her head, worn like the pink mask of a luchadora, the crotch covering her nose as she glared at herself through the two holes meant for lovely male legs to go through. She looked every bit as deliciously filthy as she felt.

She took a deep, shoulder quaking, sniff of the clinging fabric. “Ohhhh fuck yeahh…” she exhaled through her mouth, pushing the dildo deeper and holding it, squeezing it in her channel, as thrilling pleasure began to crest. The smell of her dad made her head light, or maybe it was the almost hour and a half of constant masturbating that had her dizzy, but she couldn’t stop. She kept reminding herself of where his underwear had been… wrapped around his skin all day… stuck up his crack... pressed against his dick and balls… now it was on her face… in her nose… She inhaled the warm scent of him again, her own sweaty, room filling sex stink filtering through the material and tainting that too. It was too much and she finally crashed, legs skewing. The dildo nearly shot out of her cunt like a torpedo as she lost her grip and her body listed to one side. She held the squeal in her throat, that joyful heat rolling through her. She fed her need for air with rapid sniffs through her nose, wanting to drown herself in daddy’s sweet, stifling odour. The shuddering pulses continued for a good while, her sense of time already in a tailspin from the buzzing caffeine competing with the exhaustion of her glowing body. And then that peace washed over her, that almost sizzling feeling that left goosebumps along her skin from the base of her spine up to the roots of her hair.

She stared at nothing for a while, happily laying there on her side, wet dildo against her leg. Then the door swung open.

“Honey, dinner’s read- Oh my goodness! Oh my goodness, honey!”

Daphne’s dad Casey covered his face with his tiny hands and turned away from the obscene sight much slower than he would have wanted to. His daughter was still too dazed to react and stared dumbly at the man trembling in his long, frilly chequered apron. “Sorry honey! Oh my- I didn’t mean to… Dinner’s ready! That’s all I- I’ll knock next time I’ll knock!”

And he had scampered away, the door left open accusingly. Daphne sat up and pulled her dad’s panties off her face.

“Well shit.”

[ warning, if you haven't figure that out yet.]