Daddy's BIG Secret Stash of Taboo Books, Vol. 5 (10 Books TABOO Horny House Series)

by Adrian Amos

  “Why would the king need it?”

  “Something about his daughter... I don't know, it doesn't matter. I just need to figure out how to test this.”

  I sigh as his attention completely diverts from me again. “Daddy, I need to talk to you about something.”

  He ignores me, but I continue on anyway. Not just continue on: I rant. “You're not teaching me anything. You're stuck in this bubble”—I wave around the crusty old cabin—“working on your potions without me. It's like you don't even care about me or my future. What would mother think? She'd be so disappointed. You're supposed to be helping me out.”

  I didn't mean to bring guilt into the situation, and I regret it immediately. But it does more than cause regret, it causes anger.

  In daddy.

  “Don't you tell me what I should or shouldn't do. I'm doing you a favor keeping you in my study. Your mother's gone, don't you forget it! You're my charge now, and I won't have some little girl criticizing my work. If you have a problem, there's the door. You can get the hell out for all I care.”

  I'm taken aback. My god, he's never spoken to me like this before. My accusation that he doesn't care about me was hyperbole, or so I thought. But it might be he really doesn't care. I'm a burden to him and work will always be a priority.

  I can feel a lump in my throat as a tear wells up in my eye.

  He turns toward me, not a ounce of care crossing his gaze. “Oh, you're still here?” he asks mockingly. “Then be quiet and allow me to work.”

  He turns away and forgets I exist.

  I wipe the tear away and stare at him for a long moment. He might not be my biological father, but I cared for the man for a long time, and I thought he cared for me as well. Maybe my mother passing made him lose all sense of direction, or maybe he really never cared for me to begin with. Maybe it was all a show, a facade, he used to placate my mother.

  Maybe he's a son of a bitch after all!

  I huff and head to a stool across the room. I sit and watch the man, and as he continues his work and pays me no mind, my sadness stews into a righteous anger.

  Whether it's true or not, whether he loves me or simply puts up with me, I shouldn't be the one to suffer. I can't! Not in this world. If I let it get to me, I'd be eaten alive. I'll be stuck under a man who despises me, or I'll be fishing for coins like a beggar. I have no other skills. I have no where else to go.

  Life is so goddamn unfair!

  If only I—although... daddy may detest me, but if his potion is as he says it is... could I possibly get him to soften his heart toward me? Would his work become second nature to pleasing me?

  If I do it, there's no turning back. The man will love me like I once believed he did. For me, what change would there be? He'd be as I always imagined him to be. How could I feel guilty over that? How could it possibly go wrong? He'd be the loving father I need, and he'd be a better man for it.

  So I wait.

  I wait through the rest of the night. I watch the man work his late hours. I'm absolutely determined to outlast his stamina. His head begins to droop as his energy is spent. He lasts thirty more minutes at his bench before he lazily picks himself up and drops himself on the mattress, passing out in a matter of minutes.

  I'm amazed I outlasted the man. He has an iron will, and I've always gone to bed far earlier than him. But my determination must not be discounted. I will not be left to suffer at the will of this fickle man.

  I step close to him to ensure he's sleeping. His breathing is light but transforms into a heavy snore. I tip toe over to the bottle of potion. I place the stirring stick inside, moving the liquid around incompetently.

  I have no idea what I'm doing. But I have to say, that's more his fault than mine at this point. I grab another beaker and pour some of the magical concoction inside, taking away a small enough amount to where he might not notice its absence.

  With my plan in place, I lay down on my bed. I want to get a bit of sleep, but I end up staying up all night, anxiously awaiting the morning.

  I get up again when light cracks through the window, knowing daddy will be up sometime in the next hour.

  I craft my usual breakfast of eggs and sausage. But my focus is on the coffee, which I brew nervously, my heart racing as I think about my actions.

  At this point, though, I'm too far along to stop myself.

  Once the coffee is made, I pour his mug, not topping it off as usual. Instead I use what mixture I'd stolen and fill the mug up the rest of the way. I stir it in and add some sugar, hoping to mask whatever taste might reside in the potion that smelled like fetid death when I opened the door last night.

  I awkwardly sit at his bedside, holding the coffee in my shaking hands, waiting patiently as daddy ends rouses on his own.

  Well, patiently enough until I nudge him with my foot, startling him awake.

  He twists in his bed. “What the hell?!” he groggily shouts.

  “Good morning, daddy,” I say, donning a chipper attitude after a night of no sleep. “I know you got a lot of work today, so I wanted to make sure you got off on the right foot.” I proffer the mug, holding it a distance away from me, afraid of my own mixture.

  He looks at the mug and back at me. His eyes go narrow, but he reaches out and takes the coffee from my hands. “Thank you, lass. I need all the hours I can get. Sleep is a burden at this stage of the process.”

  A burden just like me, huh? Any guilt I feel dissipates at that word, and I hungrily watch him drink his coffee, excited to see him down his cup quickly.

  He licks his lips. “Not bad,” he says, “but it also kind of tastes like shit.” He shrugs.

  I smirk. It feels like sweet revenge, so hiding my intentions flies straight out the window. “I'm sure it does.”

  He pauses as he picks himself out of bed. He looks down at the mug and back at me. “What—what did you do?”

  “Oh”—I shake my head—“nothing.” I tap my chin. “I might have added an extra ingredient.”

  “W-what—“

  “That bottle over there.”

  He drops his mug, which shatters on the floor. Instead of scaring me, it invigorates me. I have to say, I'm getting quite a bit of enjoyment watching him squirm before the potion takes over.

  “Y-you idiot girl. Why did you do that?!” He reaches for his throat, closing his eyes as his breathing starts to pick up.

  “Because I'm tired of you ignoring me. Now you can't. Not of your choice, anyway. You're going to love me again.”

  He shakes his head, his eyes wide. “No, that's not how this works.”

  I scoff. “What are you talking about?”

  “This isn't paternal love I drank.”

  “You said it was for the king and his daughter.”

  “No. The potion was for her.”

  For her? Why would he make this potion for her?

  Daddy answers the confusion written in my face. “Because he wants her to love him... more than a daughter should.”

  “What does that mean?”

  His eyes lids close as he suddenly doubles over. His breath holds for a moment as pain curls the lines of his skin.

  But just as suddenly as the pain comes, it goes, and daddy opens his eyes wide, an energy flowing through him like I've never seen before. He seems revitalized, as if he hasn't been working himself to death lately. As if the potion gave him the fountain of youth.

  His lip curls in a smirk. “You're about to find out.”

  “Daddy, I don't—“

  Daddy snatches the back of my head. I recoil and cry out, thinking he's about to strike me. But his mouth flies to mine, his lips pressing into me with a surge of fiery lust. His mouth works mine, molding hard between my lips.

  I get enough power to push off his shoulders. “Daddy, stop! What are you doing?”

  “Loving you, babygirl. It's what you wanted.”

  The crowfeet of his eyes are gone, the bags smoothed out as well. Even the gray in his hairs seems to have disap
peared, lending itself back to daddy's natural brown locks. He looks healthier, the masculine features of his face coming back to him rapidly. His sharp jaw seems more pronounced, and his eyes seem permanently fixed in a bedroom stare.

  It's as if the power of love has given him new life!

  Daddy's hands slide around my waist, his fingers almost touching as he encircles me. His voice is low and seductive. “A little girl like you needs a man in her life.”

  Daddy no longer talks to me like a burden. He talks to me like I'm the only thing in the world that matters!

  “You need to be loved. You need to be controlled. You need to be fucked.”

  My eyes go wide as his hands go to the neckline of my nightdress, and with a sudden, violent pull, he rips it in half. My large tits bounce as they're freed, and I'm disrobed from head to toe. I'm laid bare as daddy drinks me in, looking my body up and down from pussy to tits.

  “Daddy, no!”

  I pull away, but he yanks me right back into position. With one arm he holds my waist, while the other sweeps across the bench, knocking all of his tools and work to the floor. He even sends the beaker of love potion to the floor, shattering it and spilling the contents.

  “Oh my god, you just destroyed your work!”

  He grabs my ass, and with his newfound youth, lifts me up onto the bench, sitting me down in front of him. “I don't care.”

  “No, daddy, no—“

  My words are cut off by a moan as his mouth flies to my nipple, sucking on it furiously. My mouth hangs open as the sensation silences me, my nipple coming out of its shell as the warmth of daddy's mouth coaxes it out.

  His lips suckles on the nub, alternating with his tongue circling the pink flesh. And then he bites it, which makes me jolt from the shock. He follows it up by drawing it back into his mouth, like a kiss to a daughter's wound, relaxing against the pain.

  It feels so fucking good! I've nearly forgotten that it's my father applying the pleasure!

  “Daddy, this isn't right!”

  “No, it's not,” he says. “But this is what you deserve, isn't it? You naughty little slut. You deserve to be fucked when you turn your daddy on this much.”

  “I didn't mean it!” I croak as his tongue nips at my erect tissue.

  “Too bad,” he says. “My dick's never felt so hard, and the last thing I'm going to do is not stick it in you.”

  “You can't, daddy! You can't put your dick inside me.”

  But daddy doesn't respond, instead squeezing my ass and throwing his shoulders into me, which causes me to fall onto my back. He kisses my neck savagely, biting and tonguing, working his hardest to restrain himself and not injure me. But it's difficult as his passion overtakes him. He's so consumed that his actions are aggressive, his fingers digging in as he struggles to get enough of my body.

  He holds my legs in his arms as he pushes his pelvis into mine. I can feel his hard cock in his pants, straining intensely to be released. There's no way his dick could be that hard! Did the potion give him a raging erection?

  But as he continues to push into me, the thickness of his dick is exciting, and each press against me excites me further, to where I'm picturing what his cock looks like. The tenseness, the pressure, the aching I can feel coursing through him. It pains him how much he wants to put it inside me.

  And I can feel it flowing through him, and instead of fear, all I feel is desire. I want it. I want his dick. I want to feel that power in me.

  “Oh, daddy,” I moan.

  He hisses. “Yeah, baby. Yeah, god, I want you.”

  “You want me, daddy?”

  “I want you so fucking bad! I want to fuck you so hard!” He presses his dick into my pussy, which makes me quiver and groan.

  “I want you too, daddy.”

  “Do it, then,” he says, taking a step back. “Take my fucking dick out.”

  I lower myself to the ground, kneeling in front of him. I pull the string to his ragged pants, which descend in a flurry of loose fabric. Daddy's cock bounces out, absolutely engorged on arousal.”

  “Wow,” I say, caught by surprise by how big his cock is.

  Daddy grits his teeth, struggling to contain the animal inside him. My wide eyes only turn him on more, and as I inch closer to his dick, he reaches out and grabs my head. Without pause, he shoves his cock to the back of my throat.

  I instantly gag, his magical dick so big it blocks all air from getting through. It's rock hard, bulging as the blood in it pulses through him. I have to extend my jaw as far as it goes to take in his vigor, and even then, I need to be more relaxed to make it comfortable.

  He groans, lust driving his instincts, intoxicated on every little touch from me. His hips quiver as his dick fills my mouth. He pulls out, his cock covered in saliva, strands sticking to my lips as I cough and sputter, working to catch my breath.

  “Oh... my god,” daddy groans, head tilt back in ecstasy.

  He stuffs his dick back in and proceeds to fuck my mouth. His fingernails dig into my scalp as he tugs my hair, propelling his hips at full force. He thrusts to the back of my throat and holds it there, taking pleasure in my gagging as my throat vibrates around his cock.

  “Fuck, yes,” he groans, “choke on that cock.”

  He pulls out and shoves it back in, pushing his beast further down my throat. I grip his thighs, holding back tears as I fight his dominance. Daddy pushes hard, sliding his dick down the back of my throat, and when I think I'm about to pass out, he releases me, letting me tumble to the ground.

  Daddy squats next to me and says, his tone bizarrely softened, “I love you so much, little girl. I never realized how much I've wanted to be with you. You're the most precious thing in my life.”

  I look up at him, and his eyes read as completely sincere. And as strange as it is, knowing the fact he's being manipulated by the love potion, satisfaction wells in my gut. I've been loved, but I've never seen it in his eyes or anyone's eyes like I do now. The passion, the lust, the desire, the control. It's exhilarating, and even after being strangled by his thick cock, all I want is more.

  I blush. “I love you too, daddy.”

  He smiles. “You do?”

  I nod.

  He bites his lip, and like a signal, I can tell his lust is regaining control. He grinds his teeth before lifting me to my feet. He spins me around, his cock pressing against my ass crack as he holds me close. He nibbles at my ear, slowly guiding me forward until my thighs press firm against the bench.

  Then he shoves me over, bending me at the waist so my tits crush against the wood slab, before lifting my right leg up and placing it on the table. He uses his right hand to spread my cheeks apart, separating my lower lips, exposing my moist pink flesh.

  His thick cock charges into my cunt, penetrating me without hesitation. His dick slides right in, lubed by saliva and arousal, my cunt busts open to its maximum length.

  “Daddy! Daddy!” I cry out. “Slow, please!”

  I thank the gods he lifted my leg because his thickness is overwhelming. If my legs were still closed, I don't think he would have fit inside me. I'm stretched to capacity, my pussy about ready to break.

  “I'm sorry, baby, I'm sorry! Did daddy hurt you?”

  His concern for me is weird. It seems out of the ordinary, so my response is delayed as I process his sympathy. I shake my head. “No, but go slow. You're so big.”

  “I know, baby. You just turn daddy on so much.”

  He holds my leg up on the table, keeping me pinned down chest first. He pulls out slowly, and I gasp as the space is slow to recuperate. My pussy's so stretched, it's taking a while to go back to normal!

  But it won't have a chance as daddy's smooth removal is met by smooth insertion, his dick breaking me open once more. I sigh, the pressure so intense it comes out as a low groan.

  “Yes, daddy, that's good. Keep fucking me.”

  His slow, steady pace allows my pussy to adjust, to turn that intense pressure and pain into an uncomforta
ble pleasure. He slides in, his thick dick filling me up entirely, dragging against my tight walls. I can feel his dick flex, expanding enough to push my outer limits. It hurts as it stretches, but I relish it. I relish how his dick forces me open, forces me to accept him inside. My low groans turn to high moans as the pleasure of being split comes to the forefront.

  “Faster, daddy, faster,” I beg him, ready for more.

  His hips pick up speed, driving his cock deep inside. I grip the other side of the bench, supporting myself as his power begins to propel me forward.

  He slaps my ass with his left hand, pushing himself as his aggression takes over. “There you go, you little slut. Let daddy fuck you good.”

  “Fuck me, daddy. Fuck me with your big dick!”

  He lifts my other leg up, setting me on the table. Both of my inner thighs touch the wood as my cunt spreads wide open, giving daddy room to ram his meat into me. He grips my thighs, using them as leverage as he drives his hard rod into me.

  “Oh fuck!” I scream, as daddy pounds me. He uses his full weight to split me in two, his dick long enough to nearly strike my cervix.

  “Take it, bitch! Take my fucking dick!”

  He bends over me, his hands gripping the end of the bench right next to mine. He pulls the table into him as he thrusts, fucking me with all his might. I shake, my cunt being fucked into oblivion.

  “O—ohhh s-s-shit!” I cry out.

  “Yes, yes, yes!” Daddy calls out with every thrust.

  He pulls out and flips me over onto my back. Grabbing my legs, he slips his dick back into me and continues his cunt battering. His hands grab my tits, squeezing them hard.

  He slams into me with slow, extra long thrusts, pulling all the way back before rocketing his cock into me. We grunt together at each impact, the sound of our flesh loud and glorious. The slickness of my cunt is also audible as daddy's thighs make a nice sloshing sound against me.

  “Fuck me”—I grunt, daddy's impact stunning me—”fuck me so hard, daddy!”

  “I'm going to fucking come in you. I'm going to make you my wife; I'm going to put a little baby in you.”