January 30, 2023
Daddy's Healing Touch Part 05

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When I came to, my mother was quietly snoring next to me, hear breath even and soft.

By the feel of it, she had fallen asleep on the edge of the bed, half on the mattress, half laying on the carpeted floor, as if she didn’t want to intrude in my space, but couldn’t help herself. I could hardly blame her. After all, I was home, her daughter and only child was finally being returned to her and she had no reason to resent my presence.

She loved me.

As broken, dirtied, ravaged as I had come back to her, she cared for me, still. She had taken me into her arms and helped me get cleaned up, unknowingly washing the traces of my father’s lust off my skin. She hadn’t mentioned the bite marks on my breasts, the bruises on my thighs and hips, the dried cum in my pussy. I felt her hands linger and scrub harder on all the places daddy had marked in his loving and she never said anything.

I didn’t think she could tell they were his and that wasn’t even the issue. I felt like she was trying to clean me back to purity. Like Antonio, her love was tied to my sexuality. She didn’t like it that I had been fucked. She had called it a rape. And it would have been, had Antonio been the man to have me. But instead, I had freely given myself to someone.

To someone who was not supposed to have me, according to probably everyone in this whole wide world.

I sighed.

Instead of leaning into my mom, taking refuge in her love and finding comfort in her touch, I quietly untangled myself from her.

Her feelings were a burden I was having a hard time carrying. I needed to break away, even if only for a little while.

I fumbled my way to the bathroom door, cursing every time I tripped over something or bumped into a piece of furniture. I had gotten somewhat better at navigating eternal darkness, but not by much.

Once alone in there, I let myself fall to the ground. I needed to think. I needed to come up with a plan to deal with everything and above all, I needed the people in the other room to stop fucking each other senseless for a minute. What were they doing in there, aiming to break records?

If I didn’t run the risk of waking my parents, I would have gladly slammed my fists against the wall and yelled at them to quit it. But as it stood, I was being bombarded with reminders of how good sex was with the very worst man possible: daddy.

I could still feel him between my legs, filling me, stretching me around his massive cock, pushing into me with mad greed. The hunger with which his mouth had devoured my body was making me feel like I had been his delicious treat.

Antonio had never made me feel like that, like I was wanted and I was going to be taken without regrets. He had made me feel ashamed of my body and between him using me and mom being abused, I had somehow convinced myself that sex was humiliating and sickening.

But then with daddy, it had been so good, so perfect, so… healing.

I didn’t remember having reached down to my clit and starting to play with myself, but I must have. I could hear the squelching sounds of my wet flesh getting molested by my own hand. I hadn’t felt the urge to masturbate in so long and now here I was, furiously friggin’ myself, pumping two fingers in and out of my pussy while my mind replayed my little affair.

But no matter how I moved, I was unable to get the exact same sense of fullness and satisfaction with just so little.

I needed a man in my pussy. I needed daddy, his cock, his hands on my hips, his mouth on my breasts, pulling my hair and manhandling me for his sexual convenience. I needed to be devoured and consumed by the fires of his lust.

I bit down on my bottom lip, silencing the needy calls for my daddy every time I recreated the sensations he had given birth to in my body.

I knew I couldn’t be found out like this by either of them, just like I knew I was going to have to give up my daddy. He was not mine to keep and it would destroy mom if I tried to take him from her. It would probably destroy him too, considering how he had battled with himself before giving into my demands and fucking me.

He had once asked me if I would regret giving him my body. Was he now regretting having had sex with me, I wondered? I couldn’t bear the thought.

I swore to myself that I would exorcise not only Antonio, but also daddy from my heart and body and not let them rule over me. I swore that I wasn’t going to need anyone at all and a bunch of other nonsense I that didn’t even feel right, or true, but that I swore anyway.

Because I needed to be stronger than this.

And yet when the door opened and I heard daddy’s sharp inhale, I instinctively spread my legs wider so he could see exactly why I had been hiding in the bathroom.

“I thought you were crying,” he breathed, sounding like he was apologizing for coming in here like that. “It sounded like you were crying. For- fuck,” he cursed, completely losing his train of thought.

Was he watching me, I wondered? He had to be, I did not hear the door close.

And also, I didn’t stop, like he probably hoped I would.

No, I could not do that. I was just as powerless against our ill-fated attraction as he had been in his lust for me.

Instead of abiding by my recent vows, I threw my head back and I used my other hand to spread open my pussy lips, moaning softly. I wanted him to see the hole where his cock had been buried, hoping that it might make him want to fill it again.

“Sarai, stop it,” he panted, trying once again to resist me.

I understood why he was trying so hard. I did. I knew it was wrong, for a father to fuck his own daughter, but it did not feel wrong at all. It felt right to have him inside me. It felt right for him to come soothe the pain a bad man caused me. It felt right to call for him when I burned with need.

I didn’t have anyone else to turn to, who could better understand me and give me what I needed?

And daddy seemed to want me too, because he had yet to leave the bathroom, so if we were both willing, what was the harm in it?

Mom didn’t have to know.

“Help me, daddy,” I begged, rubbing my clit harder. “I know you want to fuck me again. You’re even looking at my pussy now, aren’t you? It is yours if you want to stuff it full of cock again. Hurry, please, I am so wet for you.”

In a split second, daddy was on me, his big, strong arms raising me up from the floor as if I weighed nothing.

“Why are you doing this?” He barked, low and dangerous. “Your mother is in the other room, asleep, and now you know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I am your father. You cannot be doing this, you cannot be this-”

“What, daddy? This needy for you? You said I would regret it. I still don’t. I never will,” I promised him.

I ran a hand along his length. He was hard and hot again, burning for me the same way I burned for him. I began to stroke his cock, determined to jerk him off until he couldn’t handle it anymore. I could tell from his involuntary jerky humping into my palm that I was driving him mad with lust. Good.

“Fuck me again, you know you want to. Fill my tight, warm pussy with your cum.”

Frustrated, he pushed me hard enough to make me stumble, and something that was both apprehension and anticipation began to brew a storm low in my belly.

I had some idea of what was coming next, confirmed by him gripping my arm and twisting it up behind my back.

This was how I had gotten him started the last time too, by pushing him down a rabbit hole of desire by means of sheer provocation.

He would fuck me again, I was sure of it.

He steered me into the bath tub, pressing me against its cold tiled wall.

“Lean against that and bend over, girl. Call me “daddy”, too. I want us both to be fully aware of what we are doing here, who we are having sex with.”

“Daddy,” I purred. “My daddy.”

I was not ashamed of my need. My sanity depended on this mad sex with him.

“Your hand was between your legs. Now I know that the bitch in heat in Antonio’s villa was not really you, that it was just a role you had to play, so there’s no way you were fingering your pussy and thinking of what happened today.”

I swallowed hard, shocked that the attempt at humiliation hadn’t worked at all. On the contrary, it added a little edge to the taboo scenario. Not that it needed any more. There we were, me and daddy, in a seedy motel’s bathroom. I had my pussy in his face, his cock was rock hard again and ready to ruin my cunt, while his wife, my mom, was sleeping, unaware of the incestual sex about to happen ten steps and a locked door away from her.

“So the only possibility is that your pussy hurts,” daddy said from somewhere near my crotch.

He had lost the battle against himself, like I knew he would.

“Yes, daddy, it hurts so much,” I played along.

“I want to have a look at it, then.”

“You used to kiss my ouchies, daddy,” I whispered. “Will you kiss my hurt pussy, make it all better?” I asked, trying to sound innocent, as I put my hands against the tiles.

“Show me where it hurts.”

I pushed back my ass and presented myself to him. “Like this, daddy?”

“More, girl, I need you to really lower yourself for me,” he commanded and I bent down as much as I could in such a confined space.

Daddy pulled my panties to the side and started to touch me, rubbing me and prodding at my entrance.

“Mhm. No wonder it hurts. You poor thing. This cunt looks freshly fucked,” he said, pushing a thick finger in, curling it and then rubbing a spot inside my pussy. It felt so good, I was melting under his touch.

“A cock’s been inside this hole, hasn’t it?”

“A big one, yes,” I panted.

“And it went all the way into your depths, huh? Balls deep, someone very naughty fucked every inch of this pretty little pussy, pounded it hard and fast. Isn’t that so?”

“Yes,” I replied, feeling a bit dizzy, unsteady on my legs. “Someone… very… naughty…”

“And your cunt swallowed not just a big thick cock, but a ton of cum too, didn’t it? So much, so, it trickled out of your fuck hole for hours. Your pussy mix stained the car seat, you know.”

I could feel myself beginning to tremble hard. My entire body was shaking as daddy continued to finger me and say how my cunt had been ruined by his cock and how he could still see so much cum inside.

I had no idea why or how, but I instantly went from being aroused to being afraid. Memories of Antonio inspecting my pussy started to surface and I stifled my whimpers with the back of my wrist.

I needed to hang in there.

“Does it actually hurt you, Sarai? Did I fuck you too hard?” He suddenly asked, worry seeping into every word.

He stopped what he was doing, even pulled out his finger and waited for me to answer him. I shook my head. I wanted him to continue our game, to make me feel good again, to take me past this terrible fear.

“I want to hear a “yes” or a “no”. Tell me. With words.”

When I didn’t answer, daddy pulled me against him and cradled me, kissing my hair and telling me I was safe with him, until my trembling subsided and I could speak again. He was warm, solid and protective and I quickly relaxed in his arms.

“It’s not that it hurts, daddy. Antonio would do this to me.”

“Do what, Sarai?”

“He would make me show him my pussy and he’d check if I had sex with anyone. He would even slip a finger inside of me, and sometimes he’d move it in there, pressing against a spot that-”

Daddy nodded and held me tighter.

“It’s fine, Sarai. You’re fine. I am here.”

“I know.”

He hesitated to ask me the next question, but I supposed it had been eating away at him. “So now you’re thinking of him when I’m touching you?”

A wave of shame washed over me. How could I tell him? How could I not?

“Yes,” I cried. “I’m sorry, daddy, I wish I could just… But I feel him on me all the time, even when he’s not there. I grew to expect to be molested by him. I would often wake up with him on top of me, feeling me up, making me stay still while he humiliated me with his touching. He’d always say how sorry he was after, how disgusted he was with himself, but then he’d be back the next morning, and the one after that, and he’d do even worse to me.”

“And yet tonight you let me-”

It was my turn to cut him off. “I want to be thinking of you, daddy, truly. I want this. We can try again. Let’s try again. Please.”

“Jesus Christ, girl. Santos really fucked you up. And worse, still, I fucking let myself be convinced that you might want…” He sighed, sounding dejected, but didn’t finish his idea. He just continued to hold me against him. “I should not be taking advantage of your vulnerability. You don’t really know what you want. And I am being a fucking bastard to you now. I can’t think with my dick when it comes to you, I should be treating you better than that.”

“No, daddy. I - I do know it’s-”

“-It is all my fault. I should have kept my dick in my pants. You did nothing wrong, my angel, daddy is not mad at you-“

“-But tonight’s the first time when your touch is freshly imprinted on my skin, not his, and it’s freeing, daddy. I want to forget him. To erase him from my body. Please help me.”

I had broken into sobs. I needed daddy to understand me, my pain, how much I needed his touch.

“Please don’t leave me alone again, daddy. Help me, please,” I cried in his arms. “I swear I can’t live like this anymore, daddy, it’s torture to feel him on my skin. I will die of sorrow.”

He didn’t say anything. Daddy let me spill some of the pain that was overflowing in me and just held me, patiently.

He waited until I was perfectly calm again before drawing my attention. “Sarai. Are you sure you want this? Absolutely sure?”

“More sure than I have ever been of anything in my life. Only you can help me.”

“Then I need you to promise me something. Two things, actually.”

“Anything, daddy.”

“One, your mother can never know,” he whispered against my hair. “No one can ever know. Swear it to me.”

I nodded, half ashamed of the speed and enthusiasm of my reply. “Then you’ll fuck me, daddy?”

“Swear it.”

“I swear it. And the second?”

“Don’t love me for this. Don’t love me at all,” he asked, breaking what little was left of my heart.

“You’re just horny, right?”

“I am a different kind of broken than you, Sarai, and there’s no fixing me.”


“Sssh. Let’s not talk about that now. I am going to help you. I promise. But I am not going to fuck you tonight.”

I was confused for a moment, until he spoke again.

“On your knees,” he said, still in a whisper. “Make yourself come for me. Show me what you like having done to that pussy.”

He didn’t have to say it again.

I dropped myself to the floor in a heartbeat and I sat back on my heels, my legs spread, my fingers working diligently between them.

I threw my head back and I could feel the tendons standing out in my throat, my mouth open, panting hard, until I had to bite my lip to stop my moans.

I could hear daddy doing the same thing as me. His breathing had changed, becoming more labored and I could tell that he had taken out his cock and was stroking himself as he watched me abuse my pussy.

I wondered if this had been a bad idea, if he would really be able to hold on at all and not fuck me, like he had promised me.

Not that I secretly wasn’t hoping for that.

Yet as it turned out, I broke first. I stiffened, hips pressing forward, my body arching and bending like a bow, and I had to brace myself with one hand behind me to keep from falling backward as I came harder than ever before.

My lip escaped my teeth and I cried out, a broken sound, and just for an instant I worried about mom finding us in here, worried about what the consequences could be - mostly I was worried about what they could be for daddy; I didn’t want to lose him over this.

Before I could let those dark thoughts engulf me, hot fluid landed on my face in big dollops and leaky streaks. Daddy was grunting, cumming all over my face.

“How did that feel?” He asked, sounding spent.

My brain was frozen, unsure. How did it feel? Dirty? Unpleasant? No… it wasn’t quite that. I reached out my hand and touched the wet spots.

“You’ve let a man cum on you. Paint you with his dirty seed. How does it feel?” He prompted, like a teacher guiding a slow student to the right answer.

And then it finally clicked. This would have been one of the things Antonio would molest me over.

Daddy was going to be enacting all my fears and all the supposedly shameful and wrong ways I could enjoy my body and reframe my thinking.

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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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