Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Copyright (C) 1998, Stepdaddy. ALL Rights Reserved File: daddysec.txt from daddysec.zip "Mindy is a middle child feeling sorry for herself and seeking attention in a family focused on her jock brother and genius sister. All she has is a hot little body and a horny father, ready and willing to exploit her emotional weakness." Daddy's Secret Favorite (Mf, Young Teen, inc, cons(?), spank) By Stepdaddy "I'm no good at anything, and nobody pays any attention to me!" I heard my daughter Mindy whine in the next room. "Josh is Dad's favorite, and Tammy is yours!" It was a familiar refrain, and she was once again complaining to my wife about her perceived persecution in the family. I suppose it wasn't entirely groundless. As the middle child, she suffered from the "Jan Brady" syndrome. She wasn't the oldest - that honor fell to her fifteen-year-old brother, Josh. And she wasn't the baby - that attention was lavished on her nine-year old sister, Tammy. At thirteen, Mindy was the classic "middle child". Unfortunately for her, that wasn't the end of it. You see, Josh was a very promising young athlete, excelling at every sport to which he put his hand. He showed real promise as a soccer player, potential to go a long way with it. Much of the limited time I had for the family I spent attending his soccer and basketball games, or taking him golfing with me. Maybe I was a little partial to him, but I guess I enjoyed living vicariously through my only son. He was the athlete I had never been. On the other side of the coin, Mindy's younger sister Tammy was quite precocious, a certifiable genius. At nine, she was already in the fifth grade, having skipped the third. Her elementary school had recently recommended moving her on to middle school for the second semester this year. She had placed second in the state chess championship the previous year in the 18-and-under class. I was naturally very proud of her, and I made no secret of that. My wife was Korean, and for cultural reasons she was even more doting on Tammy for her academic and intellectual achievements than I was. So Mindy was not only the middle child, but also far less athletically inclined than her brother and far less intellectually gifted than her sister. She missed out on the attention her siblings received as the genius and the sports star. Not that Mindy was without her own gifts - she was an extremely attractive girl. The Eurasian features, the silky long black hair, and the perfect complexion she inherited from her mother, combined with the long legs, the lean form, and the big brown eyes (which nevertheless retained an almond-tilt) she received from my genes made her a real beauty. When she grew up, she would be a heart-stopper, I had always thought. My wife Sung Soon (she went by Soonie) and I often referred to our kids as "The Brawn", "The Beauty" and "The Brain". Despite Mindy's physical gifts, however, I could see how she might feel neglected. The family scheduled its time around Josh's sports activities, and we were clearly very focused on Tammy's accomplishments, but what good did Mindy's looks do her in the "economy" of family attention? It's not like we were going to enter her in beauty contests or anything - that was definitely not our style. Like most parents, we tried to suppress any emphasis on the superficial. Unfortunately for Mindy, it's always a lot easier to view physical charms as superficial than it is to view athletic prowess or academic success in the same way. "That's not so," I heard Soonie reply to my daughter's complaint in her stern, heavily accented, but perfect English. "We love you all just the same. If you want more attention, get better grades. You can be smart. You have to study more!" Even I could see how this conversation wasn't going to help Mindy. My wife was totally focused on achievement, insisting that all three of her children would become doctors, lawyers, or professors. I couldn't argue with that value system, but it hardly helped Mindy to develop any self-confidence or esteem. I suspected that she was destined to be a slightly above-average student regardless of how much or how little she studied. The only way she was going to feel validated was through the attention her face and body could get her. It was on the occasion of this overheard, often-heard conversation that I came to this realization. The timing of this discovery on my part was ideal - it made me immediately recognize the cause Mindy's subsequent behavior, and it forearmed me to take advantage of it. I can't say I am proud of the use I made of this knowledge, but I must admit, I've been very pleased with it. I guess it was on a Saturday, a couple of weeks later, that I noticed her first calculated attempt to get some attention. She had just been to the mall with her friends, and she returned wearing a new pair of shoes. They were open toed, very-high heeled black numbers that on an older female I would have described as "fuck me pumps". She was wearing them with a pair of short-shorts and a bellybaring top. I couldn't help but notice the sleek lines they made of her long lean legs, and the perky lift they gave to her tight little thirteen-year-old ass. My cock stirred in pleasure at the sight, although I'm certain Mindy had no idea of the effect she had on me. She simply thought the outfit was "cute", and was underscoring her strong points in an attempt to garner more attention, from both her family and the world. This development was definitely fine by me. Daughter or not, she was a sexy little bitch. "Honey, now don't you look cute!" "Do you like my new shoes, Daddy?" "They're very nice. I like it when you dress like that. It makes me proud to have such a pretty daughter.' "Oh, Daddy!" "No, really. A man should show off such a pretty daughter. Hey, I have an idea, why don't you and I go Mindy blushed at the compliment, and at being the focus for once. This was working, I could tell she was very pleased. She was getting positive attention from her father and she loved it. "Really, Daddy? That sounds great!" I was glad I had foreseen this development. Mindy was trying to get validation through her looks, and I was encouraging it. Now to throw a little water on the fire, just to keep her working at it. "O.K., let's go then. Josh has a soccer game this afternoon. Let's head over to Marksan Field and watch his game." I could see how this crushed her -- she physically slumped. I decided to ease off a little, to provide more encouragement for her chosen course. "I don't know if I'll even be able to watch the game with such a pretty girl beside me!" This cheered her up a bit, and I got a reward to suggest this approach was going to work: as I walked behind her down the walk towards the car, I noticed her putting a little swing in her hips. I felt my cock twitch again. Yes, if I could get her to keep this campaign up, my prick and every male she met would have me to thank for the pleasurable view. When we got to the game I made sure we sat a few rows up in the bleachers. I sent her repeatedly down the stands and across in front of the small crowd to the concession kiosk. Watching her negotiate her way down the steps in her toohigh heels, and watching the head of every male in the rows before me track her progress as she passed, created both a tingling in my loins and a pride of possession in my heart. I could tell she was noticing and enjoying the attention from the crowd - she was walking as sexily as she could. She did a pretty good job of it, too, for an inexperienced thirteen-year-old. With a little swish to her hips, a flip of her long, silky black hair, or an unnecessary pause to look back up at me, her hand shading her eyes while she pushed out her immature chest, she joined the timeless charade, the ancient dance of the pubescent female. Whether she understood the consequences or not, her body was announcing to every male within view its budding womanhood, its readiness to be mated. My, I love life! Of course, like a billion fathers before me, I felt a jealous urge to protect her from the attentions of other men. Unlike most of them, I understood the primary source of this jealously -- my own lust for her. I took satisfaction from the irrepressible affirmation the men in the crowd were giving me, and I knew it would only serve to assist my efforts in molding her. I had something none of them did - power over this sweet little cunt. I enjoyed the authority of a father to keep his thirteen-year-old daughter on a short leash, away from the clutches of pimply-faced boys and lecherous men. A short leash -- now that was a mental image! Whenever she returned from one of these expeditions, I openly devoured her with my eyes. When she sat down, I would pay her a compliment, like "Those shoes_do_ make your walk sexier", or "I can't believe how you're growing up", but then I would leave it at that, and overtly direct my undivided attention towards Josh's exploits on the soccer field. She was receiving my message loud and clear: your importance to me is based upon and limited to your sex appeal. This might seem a little harsh, but with her feelings of sibling inferiority, I hoped she would clutch at it like a life ring. As we sat there, Mindy alternately basking in my attention and pouting at my inattention, and me pretending to watch the game, my mind was working at top speed. This was going well, so well that it was outpacing my planning. How could I continue to encourage her to measure her worth by her sexuality while also ensuring that she didn't find her reward in the attentions of others, rather than from me? I could hardly compliment her "fuck me" clothing, while punishing her for going out in it. I couldn't convince her that her sexuality was her most important asset while simultaneously restricting her to the house "to study". However, I knew I had an unwitting ally in my wife, Soonie. With her intense focus on academics, I knew exactly which buttons to push. By the time we returned home, Mindy was bubbling with happiness. I had made a point of not waiting for Josh after the game, saying that he had his bike, and this was Daddy-Daughter Day, anyway. Instead, I had taken her to the neighborhood Dairy Queen, where a lot of kids her age went to gather. She enjoyed prancing around in front of her classmates in her hot outfit, especially the boys, I'm sure. But if I read the situation correctly, she also delighted in the unprecedented one-on-one attention from her dad. Her happiness did not go unnoticed by her mother upon our return, or during dinner that evening. Later, when Soonie and I were alone, she brought it up. "Mindy seemed very happy today. Where did you go with her?" "Oh, we went to Josh's game, and then I took her to Dairy Queen. You know how she feels she doesn't get enough attention. I thought I'd try to spend some time with her." "That's a good idea. She does get upset about that sometimes. It's just that she doesn't study hard enough. Tammy will get into a good college, and Josh gets better grades, too. Of course I show them my approval more often. But I love her just the same. I just wish she'd do better!" "Well, maybe she doesn't need to be that good at school. She has other qualities, you know. Lots of boys came up to talk to her at the game. She must be very popular. Maybe it's time we let her date." As expected, this set Soonie off. "I don't care about popular! That won't get her into a good college! And she isn't going to date anyone! She doesn't study enough as it is. Once she goes to a top college, then maybe she can date." "Yeah, I suppose you're right, baby." Perfect. Of course, I wasn't unhappy in the slightest. My wife would see to it that the only close male contact Mindy got would be from me and Josh, and from what I'd seen as we left the game, Josh had plenty of little cuties to occupy him already. Just thinking about what lay ahead made me hard. I put my vigor to good use, throwing it into Soonie from behind as I replayed Mindy's afternoon fertility display in my mind. Thirty minutes later, Soonie collapsed with an aching, satisfied, cum-drenched pussy. If she only knew why! 00000000 Events unfolded pretty much as I had hoped. Soonie continued to ride Mindy hard, putting the pressure on her academically while restricting her socially. Part of me felt bad for the girl, since I knew her mother's expectations were simply beyond her ability. On the other hand, this campaign drove a wedge between mother and daughter, a situation that would later serve me well. I heaped fuel on the fire, with carefully crafted "casual comments" to Soonie. These would always result in redoubled strictures on Mindy. At the same time, I became a sounding board for the girl. Such exchanges would go something like this: "Daddy, Mom's unbelievable! Can't she understand that I'm never going to Harvard, that I'm not gonna be a doctor?" "She just wants the best for you, honey. I can't disagree with her attitude towards school. You'll never have a chance later in life to learn as much as you can today." "I know, I know! But I'm no good at that stuff. Besides, she never lets me go anywhere. And if she does let me go somewhere, whenever she thinks boys might be around, she gets all weird about what I can wear!" "Well, pumpkin, you know I have to back your mother up. But I'll tell you what, whenever I take you somewhere, you can wear whatever you like." "Thanks, Daddy, I knew you'd understand." The mother-daughter division only widened. Mindy came to rely on me more and more as the refuge from her unhappy situation. I continued to trot her out from time to time, and she didn't disappoint. She'd use those opportunities to dress as "grown up" and sexy as she could. When her mother started finding fault with Mindy's clothing purchases, and began participating in her now infrequent shopping expeditions, I helped my daughter out by taking her shopping once in a while myself. It was cute how Mindy thought it so indulgent of me to "allow" her buy the sexiest outfits, when of course I wouldn't have had it any other way. There were a couple of skirts and a pair of shorts she acquired along the way that were so short and sexy, she was afraid her mother would find them and go ballistic. She asked if she could keep them in my den, in the basement, which was my private preserve. Soonie rarely entered the room, and never without me there. My wife had her own retreat, on the second floor, which she called her "reading room", and which I respected similarly. This arrangement had always served our relationship well, giving us each a guaranteed private "space", and now my den was about to serve me in another valuable capacity. Of course I said "yes" to Mindy's request, and we entered the stage of hiding our first shared secret from her mother. Inevitably, the mother-daughter tension led to endless, highly vocal arguments, which only served to escalate their differences. To my surprise and delight, one evening Soonie came to me and asked me to punish Mindy for a particularly egregious case of "sass". When I asked her what she had in mind, she said, "Give her a spanking like you used to. If she's going to act like a little girl, she can be punished like one!" It was a struggle to keep a stern and concerned look on my face. I hadn't spanked any of the kids after they'd turned seven or eight, and I had never done it very often for any of them, even back then. The prospect of spanking Mindy's tight little thirteen-year-old ass sent an immediate telegraph to my prick, which sprang to attention. I quickly sat down to hide the tent in my trousers, gathered my composure, and replied, "If you think it's necessary. Send her to my den." I had traditionally administered the rare spankings in my den. It had added to the gravity of the situation, getting "sent to the den", a normally off-limits jurisdiction, for one's punishment from Dad. I headed down there myself and eagerly awaited Mindy. She arrived with an apprehensive look in her big, brown, slightly tilted Eurasian eyes. She was wearing a pleated skirt, a tucked in blouse, a pair of white socks and loafer-type shoes. She looked like a little schoolgirl in uniform, which did nothing to take the pressure off my imprisoned, straining shaft. "Now tell me what you did, sweetheart." "Daddy," she replied softly, "I'm sorry. I sassed Mom. She just seems so mean to me. I won't do it again; I learned my lesson. Do you really have to spank me?" She looked at me with a cute little puppy-dog face -- sexy, sloe-eyed, pouting -- which only served to inflame me more. She was definitely going to get spanked now! "Now honey, your mom is going to ask me how this went, and I can't straight out lie to her. What are you now, thirteen? I'll tell you what, that means I'm supposed to give you thirteen strokes. I'll give you seven hard ones, and six soft ones, O.K., and you know I always try to make it feel better afterwards." "O.K., Daddy, I understand. Thanks," as she voluntarily draped herself across my lap, perfectly positioned. Although she hadn't done this in almost six years, which must have seemed like an awfully long time in her young life, she still knew what to do. She centered her hips on my lap so quickly that the sudden impact of her pelvis would have seriously injured my erect penis had it been pointing any more vertically. As it was, her eighty-five pounds applied a pleasant pressure along my fully clothed shaft, which her placement had nudged up along my lower abdomen. I pulled her little skirt up to expose her white cotton panties. I tucked the skirt into her waistband and rested my palm on one perfect, tight, round, schoolgirl cheek. My penis moved of its own accord under her sweet little form, although I don't know if she noticed. Without further ceremony, I pulled my hand back and struck the same cheek a resounding, open-handed blow. "Owwww Daddy!" "That's one hard one, honey, only six of them to go." The next six came in relatively rapid succession, to one check or the other or across both, me counting them out loud and Mindy stifling her cries the best she could. I would have liked to have taken my time, but I didn't want my sexual arousal to become too obvious just yet. I could feel my cock drooling precum by the time we reached seven and the end of the hard strokes. "The worst part is over now, baby," I soothed as I gently massaged her sweet little asscakes. "These next six will be slower and lighter." The next six were hardly blows at all, each pat ending in a gentle cupping and caressing of some part of her bottom. I concentrated my attentions on the underside of her ass, where it met her long, coltish legs. My massaging fingertips frequently strayed very close to the little pouting, panty-clad mound I could see peeking out from between her slightly parted legs. Finally, I was done, so I bent over and kissed each of her cute little panty-clad buttocks once, pulled her skirt down, and helped her up. She rubbed her bottom ruefully, but there was an odd sparkle in her eyes. If I needed any more evidence of her sexual development, I had it. I don't know what it is, hormones, maybe, but it has always been my experience that a woman enjoys a spanking, at least to some degree, in a way unfathomable to a child. Her bottom and pride might sting a bit, I thought, but unless I miss my guess, her pussy is tingling just a bit as well. "Daddy, that wasn't so bad. Do you think I could get mom to send me to you for a spanking once in a while, instead of restricting me to the house? Then I could go out more." "You might be able to do that, honey. Now go get ready for bed. Good night." Of course, my real agenda would be to encourage Soonie to assign her spankings _and_ restriction. I didn't want Mindy finding any emotional refuges outside the home now that I was getting some gratification! After I was sure she had gone upstairs, I looked over in the corner. She hadn't noticed that the video camera, in its normal position on its tripod, had been running. I quickly pulled the tape out and set it up in my den's VCR. I watched the spanking session several times, pulling on my dick, almost viciously, until I climaxed. I came, gasping and groaning aloud with pleasure, my eyes transfixed on the image of her sweet little adolescent ass, my prick shooting a tremendous load of cum into the junior-high-school panties I had filched from the laundry some days before. 00000000 >From then on, Soonie assigned Mindy plenty of spankings, without, thankfully, any reprieve from her virtual house arrest. Each time, she showed up in a skirt, which allowed me to expose her panties, and each time she seemed more and more responsive to the caresses during the "soft six" strokes, pressing back up into my hand or grinding her pelvic bone almost imperceptibly against my thigh. Each time, I concentrated more and more on the region surrounding her innocent pussy, my fingertips occasionally grazing along the puffy lips through their cotton covering. Each time, her eyes seemed a little glassier when we were finished, her face a little more flushed. Each time, I rewarded myself with a post-punishment mastubatory release, complete with videotape. I began to suspect that I wasn't the only one looking forward to these sessions. I became convinced of this during a session a couple of weeks after her birthday. After the thirteenth stroke, six of which, as usual, were little more than drawn-out, lewd, caressing gropes, I was leaning over to give her bottom its traditional two pecks when she said: "Daddy, I'm fourteen now. You're supposed to spank me one more time." 000000000000 Soon, of course, I wanted more. I came up with a reckless plan, and tried to screw up my courage on two occasions during our now almost-routine spanking sessions, only to lose my nerve. Let's face it: although my fourteen-year-old daughter had become a virtual accomplice in all this, I knew full well that I was very close to crossing the line already. One word to her mother, maybe during one of her rare tantrums toward me, and I'd be cooked. Society in these cases places all the blame squarely on the adult, and rightly so, I'm afraid. Mindy was far too young to not be easily manipulated by a lecherous old man - my success so far was proof of that! However, one evening when I'd already had a couple of relaxing scotches, I heard the decibel level rising in the next room. This is it, I thought, as I quickly poured myself one more fortifying drink. Sure enough, in a few minutes I was informed that Mindy needed a spanking, so I retired to my den to await her. My stomach was in knots. I feared I would once again lose my nerve. However, when I saw the hot little bitch enter my den, her hair in a ponytail, her skirt impossibly short, her top leaving her flat, tan belly exposed, and her feet in the very "fuck me" pumps that had initiated this course so many weeks before, my resolve returned. "Honey, what did you do this time?" "Mom said I look like a slut in this outfit, that I couldn't wear it. I mouthed off, and she got mad, as usual. You like this outfit, don't you Daddy?" "Yes, I do, but you know how your mother feels about that kind of thing. You know very well that you can only wear that sort of outfit when you and I go out together, and then only when your mother is not around to see it. And we can't have you talking back to your mother. It's almost like you're _trying_ to get a spanking!" Here it goes. "Honey, your spankings must be too easy on you. From now on, you're going to be spanked bare-assed. Take off your panties." My heart stood still. Would she scream, run off to her mom, or comply? She seemed to take minutes to respond, but in fact it was probably only a second or two. I actually detected a slight smile on her lips as she reached under her skirt and shimmied out of her panties, stepping out and leaving a pool of white cotton on the floor. "Let me see," I somehow let out in my sex-husky voice. She slowly lifted her skirt to reveal her tight, tidy, virgin cunt. There was only a trace of brown hair above her slit, soft and straight as her mother's. Happily for my taste, none of the "curly-pube" genes of my Caucasian blood had influenced my daughter's sex. I wondered if her vagina would turn out to be as undersized as her mother's when she grew up. The hell with that, I thought, it's sure as fuck undersized now! Apart from that little tuft, her pussy was completely hairless. The smooth, clean lines of her taut, puffy labia looked delicious. Her hips had only the slightest pubescent swell to them, but her thighs were already separated by a good-sized pussy gap. I had to resist the urge to cup her girlcunt in my palm, but we weren't ready for that just yet. "O.K., honey, let's get to it." She released her skirt and spread herself over my lap. I pulled the skirt up to expose her exquisitely naked, candy ass. My first seven blows left angry red handprints on my daughter's quivering, silky bottom. My second seven, the caressing "blows", focused almost entirely on her inner thighs, my contact with her labia by no means incidental at this point. Her pussy was leaking fluid, providing visual and tactile evidence of the enjoyment I had only so far suspected in her. Since she was face down in my lap, her juices flowed down to lubricate her tender young clitoris, which, after my prescribed fourteen count, I began to diddle in earnest. It only took a few minutes of this clitoral attention, punctuated by the occasional detour of my fingertips up through her oozing cuntal crease, before she began to gasp, her hips moving spasmodically, her teenaged body flushing in her very first orgasm at her Daddy's hands. I resolved then and there that it would be far from her last. After licking my fingers (mmmmm, that's sweet), I once again kissed each cheek, now on soft bare skin for the first time, and added one more kiss, square on the lips of her hairless, virgin twat. I couldn't resist slipping her a hint of tongue. She put herself together, a bit embarrassed I supposed, and left. She was a little quiet, but clearly in no danger of disclosing the particulars of our session to her mother. I treated myself to my traditional post-punishment jerk-off, this time viewing a videotape focused perfectly on her naked and teased fourteen-year-old cunt. I had to stroke myself with my left hand so that I could come while sniffing at the sweet poontang on the fingers of my right. 0000000 >From that point, Mindy's life pretty much consisted of attending school, doing her homework, arguing with her mom, and getting spanked by her dad. Ironically, the spanking was the high point of her existence. Although I continued to molest her young sex, I always started out with the prescribed spanking. One day, she asked me to start giving her all fourteen strokes fast and hard, provided I promised, as she put it, "to make her feel all better" afterwards. Sometimes I made her strip completely, and I'd toy with her miniature breasts with my left hand while I spanked and diddled her with the right. Sometimes I had her leave her panties on, so I could slide my fingers through the leg band to toy with her pussy. It added a flair of the naughty and forbidden. I continued to tape these episodes, and to gratify myself afterwards while reviewing them. At the end of each session, I gave her the now formulaic three kisses - one on each buttock and an increasingly long, wet, and lewd one on her pussy. 000000000 One evening, I arrived home to what looked like an empty house. I headed for my den to put a few legal documents in my safe. When I entered, I knew something was wrong. I don't know how I knew, but I could sense that someone had been in my sanctuary in my absence. Acting on this suspicion, I opened my always-unlocked video cabinet. Sure enough, some of videos had been disturbed - I used a peculiar organization system for my videotapes, one that wouldn't be easy to guess if you were attempting to put things back the way you found them. Whoever had been snooping hadn't been able to cover his or her tracks. My heart sank into my stomach. Those videos were full of evidence, evidence that I had been sexually abusing my adolescent daughter. Where was my family? At the police station? Let's see, my panicked mind raced, Josh should be at his soccer match. It's out of town. Soonie was supposed to be at a church board meeting. She might have taken Tammy along, my wife liked to have her practice on the piano there. God knows where Mindy was. Mindy - most likely it was Mindy, the other kids still kept clear of my den, only Mindy would have any familiarity with the room, oh God, please let it have been Mindy! I was assailed with waves of fear, of self-recrimination. What had I done? Why didn't I lock those up? Why was I such a fool? Why did I make those damn tapes in the first place? Oh God, let me out of this one, and I'm done with it! Suddenly, I heard a noise upstairs. I shut the cabinet door, and stole up the stairs to the first floor. There it was, another noise, coming from the eastern end of the house, second floor. Mindy! "Mindy!" I bellowed up the stairs. "Get your ass down here! To my den, now!" When she entered the den, her eyes darted to the closed video cabinet. That was the evidence I needed. Relief washed over me. Thank God it had been her! As fear left my being, rage stepped in. I yanked her across my lap, ripped her panties off, and gave her fourteen blows the likes of which she had never felt. I had always "pulled" my blows, even the supposed hard ones, but on this occasion, I laid on like a butcher. By the time I was finished, she was sobbing. "I'm sorry Daddy, I'm sorry!" I didn't follow up this punishment with any gentle caressing and diddling. Instead, I spun my chair around to face my desk, at the same time setting the weeping girl up on the desktop. I threw her slender legs up over my shoulders and buried my face in her tender crotch. To hell with the light kisses and the teasing tongue-tip, I was devouring her baby cunt like a starving man. She fell back on her elbows for balance as I clutched her young buns in my claws, pulling her sweet immature pussy up into my hungry mauth. Soon, she stopped sobbing, then, she stopped weeping, and finally, she stopped crying altogether. Her hips started rocking back and forth, conspiring with my mouth to bring this delicious torture to her body. Suddenly, her body was wracked with spasms. She sprang up off her elbows, both her hands now grasping the back of my head, pulling my face into her climaxing sex. Juices poured forth from her convulsing cunt, running into my mouth as sweet nectar. She came down from her climax, breathing heavily. She released my head and lay back across my large desk. She looked as though she was about to speak, when I arose from my chair and unzipped my pants. Her eyes grew wide as I pulled out my iron-hard cock. This was the first time she had seen it. She was transfixed by it for a moment, and then her eyes anxiously darted up to mine, only to be met with a stern stare. "I'm sorry, Daddy, I won't snoop any more, I promise!" she moaned desperately. She probably thought I was still crazed with rage, but by now I was merely crazed with lust. Her virgin hole was perfectly situated at the edge of my desk, and taking hold of her hip with my left hand and my need with the right, I advanced upon it. Her sloppy wet slit was an easy target. I lodged the head of my angry prick at her entrance without difficulty. "Daddy, what are..." I advanced further. My turgid rod pressed in, about an inch-and-a-half into her velvety, vise-like snatch, to stop against her doomed maidenhead. My right hand now took hold of her other hip. "Uhn!" she grunted, "Daddy, are you going to ..." I lunged forward, spearing my steel through her tender girlhood like tissue paper, my hips driving me in until I hit bottom. "Owwww! Take it out! It hurts, Daddy!" I looked down to see her young, hairless pussy lips stretched obscenely around my thick fuckstick. About an inch and a half of my seven remained outside her tight channel. Her cervix had halted the invasion at that point. Instead of pulling out, I again lifted her legs over my shoulders, this time to their standing height. I then again seized both her young hips and began to drive into her again and again, mercilessly slamming the hammer of my cockhead against her girlish womb. She grunted or gasped at every thrust, obviously in some pain, but all I could think about was how tight, how soft, how wonderful her sweet pussy felt gripping at my pounding prick. I was almost blind with animal lust as I reached up and ripped her blouse open. Her tiny titties greeted me. Her eyes were half-lidded as her long slender legs slipped down off my shoulders, and she wrapped them around my waist all by herself. She no longer seemed to be in pain - her moans had taken on a lustful air of their own. It only took a few moments more for the combination of her velvety cunt, the erotic, forbidden nature of the scene, and my relentless action to bring me to a glorious orgasm. I shouted out loud, unintelligibly, as rope after rope of sticky, thick incestuous semen shot through my pulsing shaft and deep into my young daughter's womb. I had never felt anything so rapturous in my life. I almost collapsed bodily on top of her abused little form, my mind numb with the release. I looked down at our joined loins. My still-hard penis was now buried to the hilt in her junior-miss hole. 000000 Later that evening, when my wife had returned and had drawn a bath, I decided I had to pay Mindy a visit in her bedroom. When we had uncoupled a few hours earlier, I had sat back, exhausted, into my den chair. To my delight, my numbed senses finally made out what the poor abused girl was saying. "I am really sorry, Daddy. I shouldn't have been snooping. I know I deserved to be punished. Please, don't stay mad at me. I can't have you AND mom not like me!" I recalled nodding, somewhat dumbly, and dismissing the girl with a half-hearted wave of my hand. She was actually apologizing to ME! So now I softly knocked on her door, and entered. She was sitting up in her bed, her pink quilt covering her from the waist down. She had a Mickey Mouse Tshirt on as a pajama top. The little twin bed was covered with stuffed animals. I pushed a couple aside so that I could sit on the edge next to her. "Honey, I'm sorry I had to punish you so severely this evening. You know you're not supposed to be in my den unless I tell you to be." "I know, Daddy, I'm really sorry. I just wondered why the video camera was always on when you spanked me." So, she had realized it was on after all! "Well, sweetheart, you might have noticed that whenever I punish you, I get an erection. That can be painful to a man if it's not dealt with. After our sessions, I would watch the tape and play with myself, to get some relief. Just like you probably played with yourself while you were watching those tapes today," I guessed, which her embarrassed expression confirmed. "But I'm not going to need to do that anymore, since from now on, if I have to punish you, part of it is going to be a good sound fuck. Call it a cervical spanking if you like. I was pretty angry today, so I might have been a bit rough. It won't always be like that." "It wasn't that bad, Daddy, after a couple of minutes. Sort of like the spankings, I actually kind of liked it. Is that weird?" "No, pumpkin, it's not. In fact, fucking doesn't have to be a punishment at all. It can be a gentle, pleasant experience for both parties. That's why I'm here right now. I'm going to show my favorite girl what a nice, loving, leisurely screw feels like while Mom is taking her bath." 0000000 Over the next few years, Mindy received fewer and fewer bottom spankings and more and more cervical ones. As Daddy's secret favorite, her attitude actually changed so much that her mother seldom found reason to send her to me for punishment. Their relationship remained chilly, if somewhat more civil. I started spending lots of time tutoring Mindy on her schoolwork down in my den, much to my wife's delight. Her grades improved (we actually did _some_ schoolwork), and by the time she graduated high school she was able to get into Duke. Not a real Ivy League school, but under the circumstances, a college prestigious enough to make Soonie happy. Josh's soccer talents and decent grades had gotten him into Dartmouth a couple years before, so it was soon just Soonie, young Tammy, and I at home. By the time Tammy turned fifteen, she had become quite a cutie herself. Not as exceptionally attractive as Mindy, but certainly a heartbreaker to a degree not promised by her younger days. Naturally, she shared many delectable Eurasian features with her older sister, and her cupcake tits were actually a little larger than Mindy's. Unfortunately for her, after skipping a couple of grades, she was significantly younger than her classmates, and a little shy, so she was lonely and glum with her siblings out of the house. She was giddy when Mindy returned for summer vacation after her freshman year, as, of course, was I. Nonetheless, after Mindy returned to Duke in the fall to begin her sophomore year, Tammy started acting up in a big way. Now I'm happy to report two pieces of wonderful news. First, it seems that fifteen-year-old Tammy, once the apple of her mother's eye, has started sassing and talking back. She's to be sent to me to begin a punishment regimen this very evening. The End Stepdaddy