Bdsm Sex Stories

by Olga Menson

  When thought returned, I was on the ground, the rain soaking me. My ankle ached. I tasted blood and felt more flowing from my forehead. I could only breathe in shallow gasps.

  "I have a daughter, and she needs me. Now."

  Saying the words aloud gave me life. I stood up, my ankle held, and I ran.

  There it was, the river. Oh god, it was worse than I expected. Almost over the banks, muddy and frothing like a mad dog, the entire length was a rapid now. But where was she?

  Oh shit there she was, coming down the path, a small blur. So small. The river would crush her against the rocks. When they pulled her out she wouldn't even be recognizable. The only mercy is that it would kill her swiftly.

  She hadn't seen me. Her eyes were on her goal. Death. Goddammit, what had fucked her up this badly? How had she come to the point where she thought this was the best possible solution?

  I adjusted my course, sped up. I don't know how I had any speed left in me at that point. All I knew was that I had to go faster, so I did.

  She was going to get past me. I could see it. Nothing could stop it. I was going as fast as I could.

  Then, finally, something in her life went right. She stepped on a leaf. A big one. To this day I have no idea how it ended up there, next to a strand of pines, but I thank god every day for it. It was wet and slippery and her foot shot out from her. She fell forward and to her right. Towards me and not the river.

  Instead of hitting the dirt like she expected, she hit me. I caught her and lifted her up, keeping her legs off the ground. She cursed and struggled and thrashed. I held her tight.

  "I'm not letting you go," I said softly, "get used to it."

  She stopped fighting as if a switch had been flipped inside her. I think that maybe it had. She tucked her head into my neck, held on to my chest and wrapped her legs around me. She held me, no longer trying to escape. Finally, she was just a little lost girl clinging to her daddy. I sighed and held her tight.

  Every part of me hurt. My ankle was sore, I was bleeding, and I think I pulled a few muscles in my back. I didn't give the slightest fuck. I carried her home as if she weighed nothing at all and I was half my age. It was the easiest walk I've ever taken.

  I got her inside and up the stairs. She was shivering and I could feel how cold her tiny form was pressed against mine. I took her straight to the shower and peeled her clothes off her. She didn't resist but she was shaking too much to help. I stripped down as well but at this point sex was the last thing on my mind. I ran the water hot and lifted her into it, holding her against me. I stood there cradling her against my chest until her shivering stopped.

  I got out and set her down. I was worried that even now after all this she would run but she stood still and simply looked at me. I dried her slowly and gently and I finally allowed myself to become aware that I was next to a beautiful naked woman. Internally, I told myself that she was my daughter, but my cock didn't care. I still wanted her.

  I led her to my bedroom. Part of me wanted to put her on the bed and fuck her roughly. Not to punish her but to claim her, let her know that she belonged to me so she couldn't just hurt herself anymore. I'm not proud of that, but I resisted. I got out an old black sweater and helped her put it on. I just wanted her to be warm. Finally, I put her in my bed and she lay down, completely compliant to me. She looked up at me, her eyes huge and sad. I could tell that she expected something from me, but I didn't know what it was.

  "It's ok honey, you're safe. Sleep."

  That was all it took. She nodded slightly and closed her eyes. She was out almost immediately. I looked at her and felt nothing but love and an urge to protect her. I hoped that I could. I gently ran my hand through her hair and she made a small but satisfied noise and leaned into my hand. I realized for the first and final time that I loved her not just as a daughter but as a woman and there was no way that I could stop.

  Well, that could wait until she had a chance to sleep. I got up but a small hand had a hold of my wrist. I realized what she wanted and got into bed behind her, spooning her gently. She pressed into me and moaned slightly when my cock begin to get hard against her small, firm ass. I suddenly felt completely drained and fell asleep next to her in minutes.

  When I woke up she wasn't in my arms and I panicked immediately. Had I managed to lose her after all? As soon as I opened my eyes I saw that she was kneeling on top of the covers, watching me. She wore my sweater like a short dress, and it looked almost unbearably sexy on her. She smiled down at me.

  "I was just watching you sleep. I hope that's not too creepy."

  I smiled back.

  "No, it's not. You look better."

  She did. Some color had returned to her face and her eyes were lucid and relaxed, not wild and feverish like they had been on the porch. I wondered if she had been physically ill and if that had contributed to her...to her suicide attempt. I still have trouble even thinking about those words to this day, much less writing them.

  She looked away from me, played with her hands nervously.

  "Do you still want to forgive me? I'm not going to run anymore. If you want to call the police, I'll go. I won't make any trouble or tell them about...I won't tell them about the stuff that we did together."

  The idea of putting her in jail was so absurd to me that I almost laughed out loud.

  "I forgive you. I love you. I want you to stay with me, but that's up to you."

  "Even considering what I did to you? What I almost did to you? Even knowing what I did...to survive...back in L.A.?"

  I was not a moralizer. I don't know what I would have done in her situation, but I certainly didn't judge her for it. As for the rest of it, I realized that I had come to terms with it as soon as the truth was out. If I thought my father had abandoned me I might want some kind of revenge on him too. It's all too human to blame and hate.

  "That doesn't matter. No, that's not true. It does matter, but I accept it, all of it. If you give me a chance to love you I'll give you a chance to love me back. I guess what I mean is if you want to make up for what you did, then what I want is for you to try to live with me. If it doesn't work out, then we'll figure out something. I'm your father and now that I know I won't abandon you."

  "I'm ready to try," she said hesitantly before breaking out in a mischievous smile that I was already in love with, "Is it selfish of me that I want to start with the enjoyable part of loving you first?" she said, and then smoothly took off the sweater.

  I'd seen her naked before, but it had either been dark or I had been focussed on saving her. Now, in the light of the early afternoon, I had a chance to appreciate her. She was everything that I thought she would be. Her short, dark hair was messy from sleep. Her shoulders were slightly freckled and curved down to the small of her back, perfectly proportioned. Her breasts were small with a slight upturn. It was easy to imagine her holding them in her small hands. Her nipples were tiny and hard, and from the flush on her body it wasn't from the cold. Her belly had a slight definition to it, flaring out to small hips which then curved down to smooth legs of ivory. Her ass was small and shaped like a bubble. I knew that it was soft but firm from feeling it grinding against me.

  I suddenly had an image of what she might look like if I made her pregnant, her petite and fae beauty combined with greater and softer curves. It was something I wanted to make a reality, sooner or later, and aroused me almost as much as what I actually saw in front of me.

  Her face turned serious and even slightly mournful.

  "Other men have had my hands and my mouth...but my pussy is yours if you want it. You'd be my first, but I'm not a virgin. Not really.."

  "I don't care about the men that you've been with. I want you as you are," I said with some difficulty. My focus was lacking. I needed her, now, and I was going to have her.

  I threw the blankets back, sat up, and pulled her to me, kissing her. It was the first time that I'd kissed her as I wanted to, passionately. Not roughly, not yet. First I wanted her t
o know how much I loved her and needed her. She wrapped her arms around me but I think she was content to be taken. I was the storm and she was the water, surrendering to me and drawing me in. The thunder from outside felt very appropriate.

  I gently and slowly pushed her on her back. She parted her legs, expecting me to mount her immediately. Her pussy was as petite as she was, untrimmed but tidy, her small slit soaked with her juices. I knew that if a man hadn't had her there yet then most likely no one had tasted her yet.

  I wanted to be the one to show her what that was like.

  She put her small hands in my hair as I moved to her, kissing and nipping at her inner thighs. Less to arouse and more to tease as I moved closer. Nina had loved it when I went down on her and she'd taught me some skills that I thought would be useful here.

  "Oh...oh god daddy what are you doing...it's not...clean there..."

  I wasn't entirely surprised that her mother hadn't taught her that oral stimulation could be pleasurable for women. She had been a bit of a prude, and never really got over the idea that her sex was somehow dirty. Well, I could disabuse my daughter of that notion pretty easily.

  "It tastes pure as a mountain spring," I said rakishly, gently darting my tongue between her lips before circling her clitoris. I wanted to find out everything about how she needed to be pleasured, but I already knew that her clitoris was sensitive. I also remembered how she reacted to when I'd kissed and fondled her breasts. I reached up around her leg and began to gently squeeze them and pinch her nipples. Her reaction was immediate and I thought she might be one of those girls who could cum just through chest stimulation.

  "Oh god...no-one...mmmm...please don't stop daddy. Your little girl needs..."

  It's always a good sign when your lover can't form words properly even to talk dirty. She was just gasping and whimpering now, her hands gripping my hair, trying to move my head closer to her clit. I resisted for a minute or two, but when her moans intensified I sucked her clit into my mouth directly.

  "Oh fuck, I'm cumming, daddy. I'm cumming for you!"

  And she did. Goddamn, she came hard. Her back arched, her legs suddenly wrapped around my head, her cries loud and almost panicked, before she finally collapsed limply. That was the kind of orgasm I liked to give my lovers. There was a benefit to all the sleeping around I did as a younger man.

  "Oh...oh god I love you daddy," she said, her eyes lazily gazing at the ceiling, drifting in the afterglow, "no one else has really tried to make me feel good."

  That actually made me mad. Only one thing to do I guess. I moved my body up to her and entered her slowly. She was so tight that I worried I might hurt her, and I'm not the biggest guy.

  "Fuck, fuck, fuck. Oh god, daddy. It's so good. Keep going...unnnh..."

  And then I was completely inside her. I got close to her and began to move, not slow but not hard. Fast enough that she would have trouble focussing on anything other than my cock.

  "Mmm...yes daddy...yes...so good..."

  Once she was used to my cock, I put my arms under her back to support her and got up on my knees, pulling her up facing me. She wrapped her legs around me and put her arms around my chest. I moved my hands to her small, tight ass. She didn't seem to understand why I had lifted her like that but she clearly enjoyed that I could manhandle her so easily. Then began to lift her and bring her down on my cock, slowly at first but faster.

  "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, daddy. Please don't stop..." she buried her head in my chest, taking my cock as hard and fast as I wanted to give it to her. She was powerless to do anything but hold on and receive pleasure. She understood now, and her wet cunt spasming told me all I needed to know. She had cum again, quickly.

  I held her for a moment, then set her down. I wasn't through yet. While she was still recovering from the last orgasm, I gently rolled her over and pulled her ass up. Her head was down between her elbows and she made no effort to raise it. I entered her, harder this time. She started with whimpers as I fucked her, then moans and gentle swearing then she began to speak again.

  "Please, daddy, please oh fuck, please use me. Please use your baby girl's cunt. Use it, daddy."

  Her speech devolved into simple begging. Try as I might I couldn't take any more. We came together, and I'm not ashamed to say that I was louder then than I had ever been. I came hard, buried in my daughter's cunt. It was one of the largest orgasms of my life and her twitching pussy drained every drop from me.

  Finally, I rolled off of her but I didn't let her go. I pulled her to me, kissing her and whispering how I loved her, how I was proud of her, how I wanted her with me.

  At last, she rested her head on my chest, satisfied. We stayed there, reveling in the afterglow, in each other, feeling mutually loved. I expected to drift off to sleep.

  "I'm starving. Do you want me to make you anything?" she said casually, looking up from my chest with her wide blue eyes. It was obvious to me that this was how it would be. She would care for me as much as I let her. She would actually be what she had only pretended to be before.

  "I think I'd like it if made it together," I said.

  The rains carried on. The river ran. We lived simply and well.

  -- 10 Years Later --

  James and I held hands as we walked. This was our favorite path. David ran ahead of us, weaving between the trees, occasionally stopping to look down at a bug or up at a bird. He knew so many of their names already. James called him "Wood Wise" and I think that's a good word for it. Our son had come along three years after James picked me up on the road, and about a year after we were married.

  Unlike me, he knew both of his parents and he knew that we loved him unconditionally. He chafed under my sometimes overly cautious warnings but he was aware of the world and its dangers. It didn't stop him from loving every bit of the outdoors and wanting to go hunting or fishing with his father every day. He stayed the hell away from the river.

  We had decided early on that we would be as honest as possible with him. We only lied to him about one thing and even that was just a lie of omission. He probably didn't need to know that his mother was his sister, although we both referred to James as "Daddy" sometimes. David just thought I was weird, in the way all children know their parents to be weird. And everyone else just assumed that James and I were a bit kinky. How right they were.

  All of James' friends in the area just assumed that he had decided to marry a much younger trophy wife. At first, they all considered me a gold digger. I guess they were both right and wrong. Now that we'd been together for ten years and we still couldn't keep our hands off of each other, they accepted that I loved him sincerely. He always reminded me that anywhere we went, men of all ages looked at me with lust. I reminded him that women of all ages, but especially girls, wanted him to be their daddy too. We were very good with each other.

  I loved being a housewife and mother, but I had other duties. James had written four more books and, being the most critical person he knew, I became his first editor and adviser. He said that his recent work was his most refined, the closest to real literature. I don't think he was just saying it, but I am biased. For whatever it was worth, the critics agreed with me that he was both an excellent storyteller who created satisfying mysteries. Money really wasn't a concern.

  David had decided to climb a little way up a tree, I watched him but he was so sure-footed. I was willing to bet he'd bring down a wasp gall or a spider to show us. I was getting better at not being terrified by things with many legs being suddenly thrust into my face

  "James...daddy," I said. He looked at me, his eyebrows high. I generally didn't call him that except when we were making love or I was going to tell him something important.

  "My period is three weeks late," I said it calmly, but my heart was racing. I would take a test soon, but I already knew the answer as some women do. I wanted to tell him out here, in the woods that were so important to both of us. Where life and death were in harmony. I knew he loved me and would support m
e, but I needed to know if, at fifty, he was ready to be a father again.

  In response he smiled wide, lines breaking out around his eyes, picked me up as easily as if I was nineteen again, and kissed me slowly and passionately.

  "Ewwww," I heard David say, disgusted with his parent's vulgarity. He knew his parents loved each other, which was a comfort to him even if he wasn't aware of it.

  I knew that James would be a good father again and David would be a good brother. I knew that my family would be safe and warm and protected. I knew that I would be fucked well and with love tonight. I didn't need to know anything else.

  THE END

  * * *

  The Resort - Mothers and Sons

  * * *

  Melinda looked around the crowded meeting room full of mothers and sons eating breakfast together, and for the fifth time that morning wondered if this was a good idea.

  The trip itself was smooth, all things considered. They only had to fly to Miami, and the last leg of the trip turned out to be a small charter jet which was only going to the island. Marcus hadn't spoken very much to her, but he had appeared to be more at ease than usual. Melinda felt happy about that, at least. Her son deserved a vacation, maybe even more than her.

  Then they'd actually arrived this morning. That was when the oddity started. For one thing, the grounds of the Resort were a bit strange. Melinda had to admit that she loved the variety of tropical plants and trees, and the way that they were planted in neat rows seemed to relax her. But they were landscaped to create many artificial hills and valleys, with accompanying turns and switchbacks in the road. By the time they took the final turn, she had no idea of the direction or distance to the small airport where they had landed. The last hill concealed the Resort until the bus turned the corner and suddenly revealed it. She heard Marcus gasp at the effect, but she frowned at the lack of any sign or gate.

  The main building was big, at least ten stories, and sprawling. It was beautiful and modern, all bright white and curving arches, no straight lines, no hard edges. The windows were all well tinted, and each room seemed to have a spacious balcony. As Melinda stepped off of the bus, she glimpsed the ocean and the beach and then saw how the resort grounds followed the water, with tennis courts, restaurants, and what looked like small alcoves with benches, hammocks, and even beds in them.