January 30, 2023
Daddy's Healing Touch Part 01

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Author's note:

This is the first part of a fully complete incest erotica story that has been previously published on my Smashwords store page and that I'm posting here for free for everyone's enjoyment.

If you wish to support me as an author, consider checking out the rest of my written catalog, downloading one of my freebie stories, or even making a purchase if you so fancy.

Don't forget to check out the audiobooks I'm collaborating with motherslust on, which are amazing, if I may say so myself.

The characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.

All rights reserved.



I was clutching the handle of my bathroom door, too afraid to move, despite knowing I had to leave my hiding spot - my mother’s life depended on it.

Something about today felt different though.

I could feel it in my bones, reverberating through my belly, echoed by the hummingbird-like beats of my heart, upstrokes and downstrokes of hopefulness and anxiousness alternating in rapid succession.

And for that, I was hesitating.

I was even afraid to breathe, drawing in short gulps of air, as if inhaling too much was dangerous.

Maybe it was, this time.

Everything was quiet inside the house, much too quiet. The kind of desolate silence I had only encountered twice before.

The first time was when me and mom were forced to move to this hellhole.

I remembered us standing shell-shocked in the doorway, letting the truth of our new reality sink in. Like angels removed from grace, we had fallen down, spiraling at breakneck speed without anything to temper our descent or cushion our fall. We crash-landed into a very earthly version of hell, which revolved around a derelict apartment in the middle of a gangster-owned neighborhood, where everything and everyone had a price.

The four moldy, paper-thin walls and the leaky roof they supported were home to rats, roaches and men’s greedy perversions. Vermin of all sorts haunted apartment 54.

Without a college degree or any special marketable skills, afraid that we wouldn’t last a year here, all on our own, without a man to protect us, mom had turned to selling her body for money.

She had been enduring so many degrading, humiliating, abusive things at the hands of cruel men, with only one hope for better days: me.

I was supposed to finish high school, attend a community college and then find a decent job and help her pay off our debts.

We spent many waking hours dreaming about escaping this place and getting to live decent lives again. We did not even hope or wish for the luxuries from before. All we ever wanted was to leave and never return. To be free, like birds in the sky.

Queue the second moment life had cruelly pulled the rug from underneath our feet.

It had been a cold winter afternoon and my classes had been suspended for the day, something about a power outage. I had no money or anywhere else to go, so I had come home, during a time slot that mom had reserved for one of her special regulars. I knew I was risking it, but I was cold and tired and I had figured I would be able to sneak past her bedroom unnoticed.

I hadn’t counted on them doing the nasty in our living room.

The moment I entered the apartment and spotted them, the man had stopped pounding my mom. His lecherous eyes had fixated on me and he had panted his orders excitedly, waddling his beer bellied body my way. He had wanted me to strip and join them, promising a lot of money if I let him fuck my pussy that day, asking if I was a virgin and then deciding all on his own that I had to be, due to my young age and how I was trying to avoid looking at his nakedness.

He had said that Christmas must have come early and had already busied himself with taking off my clothes. I had whimpered in fear, frozen in my shock, hoping my mom would help me.

I had been so young, such a naive little girl, I had no clue how to get myself out of trouble.

But mom had, she always did.

Despite the generous amount offered, a sum that would have spared her more sex with men for the rest of the month, mom had announced that I wasn’t for sale and he had to either finish with her or leave the apartment and never come back.

Angry that we had dared to refuse his offer, he had then outright tried to rape me. I had fought him off me, emboldened by mom’s screaming, but during the altercation I fell and I hit my head on the coffee table, breaking both it and my skull.

When I next woke up, the world had lost its color. Everything had turned all black around me and I had found myself trapped in eternal gloom.

That had been it for us.

We suddenly stood no chance of escaping our shitty lives anymore - the medical bills and my blindness were the final nails in our mutual coffin.

Mom had been sentenced to continue working for Antonio, her pimp, for as long as men were willing to pay to fuck her and I, well, who knew what would happen to a blind, useless girl?

Shaking my head, as if hoping those memories would just fall out of my head like bad feathers in moulting season, I applied myself to the present situation instead.

I gathered every ounce of courage I had and I opened the door. I stepped out of the bathroom and discarded the false sense of security it had afforded me. I inhaled, deeply, and went in search of my mom.



“Mom, are you okay?”

Funny how utter silence could be more terrifying than listening to my mother’s wailing as Antonio beat the hell out of her for hiding money from him again.

But she hadn’t cried out in a good five minutes or so and I knew I had to act. She was the last good thing in my life, she was my friend, my protector, the keeper of my sanity. Without her, I had no reason to keep on living such a pitiful life.

Mom had to hang in there, to wait for me to rescue her, for once.

With a hand on the wall to guide me, I moved along the empty corridor before stopping in front of her bedroom.

“Fucking mouthy puta,” Antonio grunted, his voice coming from somewhere on the floor level.

I froze on the spot, recognizing the pattern of labored breathing and the familiar sounds of skin against skin, the wet, obscene, rhythmic slaps.

Antonio must have knocked mom out and he was now taking liberties with her unconscious body.

I brought my free hand to my mouth to prevent myself from crying.

I hated Antonio.

I hated him so much.

He was supposed to take care of her, of us, while she worked the streets to make him money. She was never supposed to come home wrecked, only for him to break whatever pieces of her were still intact.

He finished his assault on her with a hard grunt, cursing her out some more, and then I heard him get off her and zip up his pants.

“Don’t you ever fucking lie to me again,” he spat and mom finally moaned something. It came out garbled, like she was groggy. “Naw, don’t get up, stay there and learn your lesson. If it happens again, I’ll do worse to you.”

I glued myself to the wall. Partly relieved to have finally heard a sign from her, it was also painfully clear that Antonio had been exceptionally savage in punishing her today. My heart ached for my poor mom.

“Sarai,” Antonio breathed when he bumped into me, clearly surprised to have found me in the hallway, so close to his crime scene, so to speak.

“Tony, is that you?” I asked, my voice dripping with girlish sweetness.

I pretended not only that I wasn’t aware of what had just happened, but also that I didn’t recognize his voice, as if it didn’t haunt my every waking or sleeping hour.

“One and only,” he replied.

I felt him come closer and despite his anger being so subdued now, my entire being was full of the echoes of his violence against my mother. His mere presence was sucking the air out of my lungs.

The floorboards creaked, threatening to break, a mirror of how my heart was barely hanging inside of me.

I swallowed my anxiety and instead of pushing him away, I reached out a hand to touch him. I smiled, as if he was someone dear to me and his presence was always welcomed in our house.

Antonio leaned into my palm, rubbing his smoothly shaven cheek against my skin like a cat would greet their owner. Except that he was the one who owned us, me and mom, and he was no house cat at all.

“Have you been there long, dove?” He added, a hint of suspicion in his tone, before taking my hand and kissing my knuckles, effortlessly masking his real thoughts and intentions.

“Oh, not at all!” I exclaimed, hoping I sounded genuine, “I, uh, I didn’t think anyone was home.”

“Yeah, sorry to come unannounced like this. It’s just that it occurred to me that I hadn’t dropped by this week and so I had to fix that,” he lied and released my hand from his grip. “You’re two ladies living alone in this shithole, I don’t want people to think there’s no one there to look after you, to protect you.”

“You’re always so good to us, Tony. Thank you for taking care of everything.”

I knew I couldn’t tell him I had been in the house, privy to everything that he had done to my mom.

He liked to pretend with me, to claim that he was a good guy, helping my mother out instead of profiting off her. He liked to say that she was his business partner and her job was to entertain his precious guests, not a whore random men paid to spread her legs for their pleasure. He liked me to treat him like a savior, like a generous mister, ethical and kind, and above all, he liked me innocent, soft and pliable.

“You know it, angel.”

“Has mom seen to you?” I asked. “Should I find her for you?”

I knew a rabbit should not be trying to corner a wolf, but I couldn’t help myself.

“No,” he replied, curtly. His mood had turned electric and goosebumps covered my skin. I was treading on thin ice. “We actually just finished talking. She’s resting now, she is going to have a busy end of the week.”

I didn’t even want to think about that right now, of what sort of men he was going to send her way as continued punishment. Antonio’s fury simmered, it burned hot and lasted a long time.

“Oh, I guess you must be leaving then,” I replied, and then cursed myself for speaking without thinking.

“Kicking me out, huh?” He tried to hide his bubbling anger behind playful teasing.

“Not at all, I just… I’m sorry. Can I offer you a beer? We don’t really have much in the way of fancy drinks, but-”

“I would love a beer! I’ll follow you into the kitchen, then.”

I wanted to shove that fake jovial, bullshit-friendly tone up his ass, but I knew I couldn’t. I wouldn’t have been a match for him even with all my senses in full power, much less now, blind and with a belly that had only been given water to silence it this entire week.

If mother had kept any money from him, it was only because he was taking such a large cut of her earnings nowadays, that we were drowning under the weight of the bills we had to pay. After rent, utilities and the alcohol mom needed to drown her sorrows in, there wasn’t much left to spend on food for us.

So if she had taken anything, then it must have been for my sake.

The realization was making me want to throttle him, but my hands trembled with frustrating impotence.

Swallowing back my disgust, I smiled and reached out my hand again, waiting for him to come to me instead.

“Tony?” I called out.

I was afraid that if I entered the room, I would somehow end up stepping on or tripping over my mom’s body and then I knew I would be breaking down, crying, making things more difficult than they had to be.

My poor mom.

God, she was being so quiet, still. I wondered if she was just passed out again or if I needed to find a way to get him to call an ambulance.

His hand clasped mine and I led him through the small space, only stopping in front of the fridge. The cold air chilled my skin and I fished out a beer bottle for him.

“There we go,” I whispered, honey dripping off every syllable I uttered. “One cool-”

The rest of the sentence died in my throat because the moment I turned around, Antonio wrapped his dirty paws around my waist and pulled me into him, caging me.

“Give me some sugar first, little sparrow.”

His tongue parted my lips and he devoured my mouth hungrily, while his hands dropped to my ass. He gave it a firm squeeze, letting out an appreciative moan.

Despite having grown used to his perverted play-pretend routine, his kisses never failed to sicken me.

Luckily for me, Antonio was much too into me and this fantasy that I was allowing him to indulge in to notice anything being amiss, such as me never kissing him back.

“Mmmm, I missed you. You weren’t home earlier. Where have you been, Sarai?”

Subtext: was I doing something naughty with a guy and trying to keep it from him?

Antonio was obsessed with me not being out there, in the open world, unguarded and helpless in my blindness. He hated coming here and not finding me in my room, listening to music on an old radio he had gifted me. He didn’t want me to fly too far outside of my cage, where anyone could get their hands on me and dirty me, ruin my innocence.

After my accident, after learning who had hurt me and above all, why, Antonio’s revenge on the man had been the talk of the neighborhood. He had made it very clear that I was not to be touched and if anyone dared to hurt me again, they’d die at his very hands.

“Out in the back garden only, I swear. I thought I had heard a kitten mewling and I wanted to pet it,” I answered, settling on what I thought was a safe lie. “I don’t have a pet to keep me company and while I am grateful for the radio, I miss-.”

“That’s so sweet,” he cooed, cutting me off. I felt like he was mocking me. “I like playing with pussies too. I like to stroke them for hours on end, so warm and soft.”

I smiled, cursing my choice of lie. Yeah, he had just made fun of me, the double entendre was proof of it. Cruel bastard.

“But you still went out, dove. You know what I have to do now.”

“I know.”

I knew and for once, I was happy that there was no risk of my mother walking in on us and finding out what I had been letting her pimp do to me. She had no idea about his kisses, his touches, or how he’d rest his head on my thighs while telling me to hum a song and play with his hair because he swore he couldn’t relax any other way than with me by his side.

She wouldn’t be able to bear with this new misfortune of mine.

“Don’t worry, I will be gentle,” Antonio reassured me.

I nodded and braced myself for what I knew was coming. I forced myself to soften in his arms, to accept this intimate touch the same way I had grown to accept his possessive kisses. I consoled myself with the fact that it would not last long or hurt me in any way. He didn’t want to break me, the way he had mom. Quite the opposite, he was fascinated with me being whole. Pure.

“Breathe,” he whispered in my ear.

I nodded, always obedient.

His right hand moved in between us, lifting the front of my dress, and I leaned against him for support when my knees threatened to give way. He had slid his fingers under the fabric of my panties and was gently spreading my pussy lips.

Halfway there, I thought, trying to be brave, ignoring the alarm bells in my head. I was going to be fine. He was just going to dip a digit into my vagina, feel around, and then release me, content with the tightness of the hole between my legs.

Or at least that was what he was supposed to do.

I gasped when he started to stroke me, rub me, pinch me.

“Tony?” I mewled, afraid.

“Sshh, be a good girl for me and don’t move. I need this, I’ve had a really shitty day.”

I rested my forehead on the cool softness of his leather jacket, hiding my tears, while his fingers worked on my pussy. I felt myself growing wetter and wetter at his hands, something dangerous building low in my belly, and I hated that my body was responding in such a positive way to him.

But as my mother had once explained it to me, some things were just physical. Our bodies were like musical instruments and all one needed to do to control them was to know where to press and how.

My body was like a piano under Antonio’s expert fingers, he was making me sing a song of his choice, relentless in the pursuit of an encore after every gasp and little cry he managed to draw from me.

I clung to him with shame and desperation when he finally made me lose control and my entire body shuddered with the force of what he had birthed in me.

I muffled my scream of pleasure by biting down on his shoulder, surprised that he had let me hurt him like that.

“You are so perfect and you have no idea,” Antonio said and he peppered kisses along my neck. His hand was still in my panties, cupping me there, squeezing.

I didn’t fully understand what had just happened, but something told me that this was going to change everything now.

Before I could say something to get him to release me, my stomach growled.

Underneath the smell of my sex and his cheap cigarettes, Antonio also smelled of greasy burgers and pickles and I hadn’t eaten in so long.

“Are you hungry, Sarai? Come, let me buy you something delicious,” he said, and tugged on my arm to get me to follow him outside and into his car. “Good girls deserve rewards.”

My heart began beating a thousand miles per hour again. I did not want to go anywhere with him. Not when he seemed to want to get something dangerous started with me.

“Oh, no, I am fine,” I said, finding myself incredibly out of breath, as if I’d just ran a marathon. “I just ate an hour ago, really! Why not-”

“Ssshhh, no need to be shy. I know you’re going through a hard time now with your mom. Times are rough on a lot of people in this country. Come on, it’ll be my treat, don’t worry about having to pay me back.”

That was not at all what worried me.

“But, uh, mom might come looking for me when she wakes up and what if she gets scared that I’m not home? She knows the rules too, and-” I hurried to say, bouncing from one excuse to another, in the order my mind conjured them.

“Let’s leave her a note, then,” he decided, putting an end to my attempts.

He pulled away from me to scribble something on paper I didn’t even know we had, or maybe it had been from a notepad of his own and then he took my hand in his and led me outside, humming a cheery note.

The entire car ride I felt like my life was going to end and I was powerless to do anything about it. There had to be more to this little dinner date than Antonio just wanting to feed me. His so-called kindness never came without many, many strings attached.

I accompanied him on auto-pilot, letting him decide on everything - the venue, the meal, the portions.

“Do you like it?” Antonio asked me.

I nodded, carefully taking another bite of the hot dog he had bought me. I didn’t want to make a mess and eat kike a starved pig, despite self-preservation instincts screaming at me to shove as much food as possible into my mouth and fill my empty belly now, while I still had the chance.

“Thank you, Tony. You’re so kind to me,” I praised him. Catering to his ego and moods had become second-nature by now. I didn’t even have to think much about what I was replying, he was so arrogant and self-centered, he’d take any sort of praise, real or not. But that only worked if I did it. “I have no idea what I would do without you.”

Probably live happier.

“Don’t worry, dove. I have something to tell you, though. Finish your hot dog first, and we’ll talk.”

His words had suddenly made it impossible for me to chew and swallow my food.

Everything felt like it was much too overwhelming now: the cool autumn air while I was wearing a thin hand-me-down dress a neighbor had gifted me last year. The smell of more delicious food within reach while patting a barely satisfied stomach. People’s voices around us, talking loudly, casually, about everyday stuff, as if they had nothing to worry about. Even the table Antonio had occupied for us seemed like too much, too big for how small and out of my depth I was feeling.

I put down my unfinished hot dog and turned in Antonio’s general direction, signaling him that he had my undivided attention.

“Listen, Sarai. Angel. Sweetheart.”

My heart beat faster and faster the more he beat around the bush trying to tell me whatever nightmarish idea his delusional brain had come up with.

“Yes?” I prompted him with the last bit of my courage.

“It’s obvious you’re not doing well with your mom. I mean, look at you,” he said, then corrected himself, “Sorry, love. I meant you’re skin and bones and you’re much too pretty and young to be wasting away in that apartment.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he quickly silenced me. Whatever words I was going to say had just died in my throat. Again. But now it was the weight of his palm on my bare thigh that had done it. It reminded me where that hand had been mere minutes ago and how quickly things could spiral out of control if I didn’t do something. But what? I wanted to move it off me but I knew better than to insult Antonio like that.

“Come stay with me, my dove. I will take care of you, you know I am a man of my word.”

I knew that he was a rapist. Abuser. Thief. Pervert.

“I know, uh, I,” I trailed off, my generally witty mind now unable to come up with an excuse. I was trying hard to stay still and not just bolt. I knew I would not make it even two steps away from him before he’d catch me and then he’d hate me for disobeying him and he might start to treat me like he did my mom.

“I know,” I dumbly repeated myself, then settled on a run-of-the-mill compliment, “You are a rare kind soul, I feel so blessed that you want to care for me.”

I felt so trapped.

I could count the times I had left the house since my accident on the fingers of one hand. I didn’t have anyone to accompany and guide me, not even a dog or a plain white cane. So of course, my world had lost not only its color, but also its vastness. I had been unwillingly confined to the walls of our apartment and to the people, the life, within them.

I used to tell myself that if the opportunity to live somewhere else ever presented itself, I’d take it, no second-thoughts about it.

But who could have ever guessed that this so much longed for opportunity would come from Antonio, of all people, and that it would make me cry in despair, rather than relief.

“Shh,” he purred and wiped my cheeks, “You don’t need to be embarrassed. I know what a hard life can do to a person. How it steals your dignity, little by little, forcing you to do things you do not want to do. I would never let that happen to you. I want to provide you with a perfect life, if you’re willing to come stay by my side and be my good girl.”

I schooled my features into something that I hoped was akin to a reluctant smile, even if, in fact, I wanted to throw up. A part of me had always known that Antonio wanted me for himself. I just didn’t imagine that the day would come so soon.

“So what do you say?”

I knew he was expecting a firm, excited yes, yet I couldn’t bring myself to say that.

“That’s… that’s so generous of you, but I could never take advantage of your good heart. I uh, I can’t work, I’m not really smart either, and I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

“Let me worry about that, angel. You just be a good girl and come home with me.”

Antonio didn’t give me the chance to do or say anything else.

He wrapped his jacket around my shoulders and told his men, people I hadn’t even been aware of being with us, that as of that moment, I was his girlfriend and that they should not only start treating me with the respect that title was due, but that they had to honor my every wish and command from thereon.

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Hazel Grace

Hazel Grace

I'm Anna, nice to meet you! I like to write incest erotica under the pen name Hazel Grace. My literary tastes run pretty wild, definitely taboo, somewhat more sexually aggressive than most, so if you're willing to experience a different, more vibrant and off the beaten path kind of erotica, come read what I publish.

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