Annie reached for the doorknob, but then she hesitated again. Had she really changed this much in just a few days? Did she dare open the door?
The time since she had bent over half-naked in the family outhouse to be spanked by her sexually aroused father until she had come for the first time from the thought of his enormous penis and the feeling of his cruel hand slapping her vagina, had been emotional, to say the least. She had been filled with a deep sense of shame over her behaviour and her reaction to the punishment her father had tried to give her. But she had decided, sworn that she would go back to being a good girl, the modest, sweet Annie that she had always been.
So she forced herself to not avoid her father, even though she wanted to sink through the earth on the few occasions their eyes had met. She h a d to show him she wasn't a wanton slut, that it had all been a horrible mistake. The day after, she dressed more conservatively than before, worked hard at school, helped her mother with the chores around the house, and went to a church activity in the evening, but was home early. She definitely did not happen to shoot a quick glance at her father's crotch when he turned to leave for work in the morning. She was pleased with her day, as good girls have a right to be.
But the night was another matter. Annie lay awake for a long time, turning this way and that, as the quiet and the dark made unbidden, unwanted thoughts and feelings come back to her. The image of the thick, naked penis that impossibly hung almost half-way to her father's knees. The wild rush of the cold night air against her wet, open coochie. The perfect sting of his strong, masculine hand hitting her naked round bottom. The pain and the pleasure mixing and pushing her over an edge she never even knew existed. In the dark bedroom, covers off, Annie could see that a small, wet patch was forming on her panties (the sensible kind, of course). Her coochie ached to be touched and she found herself breathing heavily. She had heard the bad girls in school talking about "frigging their pussies" to "get off", but it had all sounded disgusting, and messy and rather pointless to her before. That was of course before she had orgasmed violently all over her father's hand.
In the end she couldn't hold back. Her hand strayed down to her moistening coochie, and when her eager fingers touched the wet fabric, it was all it took. Wisely, she had turned over on her tummy, perfect, round bottom sticking up, which enabled her to scream "Daddeeeeeee!!" into her pillow without waking her sleeping family.
When her alarm rang a couple of hours later, Annie was still tired from lack of sleep and in panties that were still a little wet in the crotch. But even worse, the feelings from the night were not gone. There was still a tingly, needy feeling in her little coochie. And her mind couldn't let go of the memories of her father. She tried to take a cold shower, hoping to cleanse her body, to clear her mind and perhaps to punish herself a little for not sticking with the plan. But naked in the shower, she couldn't keep her hands from caressing herself. She cupped her smallish breasts, she traced her slim waist and her curving hips and she squeezed her bottom gently, much like her father had done. Playfully, she slapped a cheek, too, just to see what it felt like.
Slap! Annie had to quickly grip the shower wall to keep herself from falling. The feeling of her palm spanking her cheek was so intense that she almost lost her footing on the slippery floor. She did it again. "Oh my god!," she moaned as her coochie exuberantly sprang to life. It felt as if the slight pain from her bottom went right up her vagina and made a party. It was fantastic, as well as, frankly, horrifying. She was not only a slut, she was a freak! Her nerves were conspiring against her, translating every sensation, even mild pain, to intense, sensual pleasure.
Immediately, she turned off the shower and got out. Drying herself, she almost started crying. Who was this person? This wicked, wicked girl, who seemed to have taken over her body and mind? Strangely, she could still hear water running. She looked over to make sure that she had turned off her own shower, and then realized it had to come from the other shower on the second floor. But that must mean that ...?
Annie quickly did the count in her head. Her mother never showered in the mornings, Jamie and Tom always after soccer practice, and Emily would - of course - still be sleeping. That left only one person. She gasped. And at that moment, she could literally feel her coochie contract and moist up. She hesitated only for a moment, before she snuck out into the hall, with her towel wrapped around her.
The other bathroom was only two doors down and she stopped outside the door. The shower was still running. Annie reached for the doorknob, but then she hesitated again. Had she really changed this much in just a few days? Did she dare open the door?
The throbbing in her little coochie gave her the answer. Even standing here in nothing but a towel, with the risk of her mother or one of her brothers entering the hallway at any moment - the morning traffic in the Watson house was usually quite intense - Annie couldn't keep her hand from rubbing herself a little through the thick towel. Her oversensualized mind had made itself up, conspiring with her body, to override her brain .
Slowly, inch by inch, she opened the bathroom door, and quickly snuck in so that nobody would catch her masturbating in the hallway.
The smaller upstairs bathroom was filled with steam from the hot shower and lack of ventilation. Annie could barely make out her own reflection in the mirror. But then again, she wasn't here to sneak a peak at herself, was she? Her eyes spun to the shower and her father's large form. The steam and the slight frosting of the shower doors made it hard to see details, but Annie still gasped aloud at what she saw.
Just as she stepped into the room, her father was soaping his enormous, beautiful penis. Even though she had been thinking about it, obsessing about it almost constantly since she last saw it, seeing it for real again made Annie breathless and amazed. As his young daughter watched him transfixed, Brad Watson lifted his thick, heavy slab of fuck meat slightly to the side to soap his massive, apple sized balls. They were hanging down a couple of inches from the base of the cock, but were still large enough to lift the shaft up, curving it slightly. Annie didn't know much about these things, but she knew that's were men's' semen came from. And with balls like her father's, there had to be so much semen. So much semen filling the women he would take.
After cleaning his balls, Brad let go of his penis and it swung back like a large pendulum, as if measuring the time to his daughter's submission. Annie leaned back against the door, and her fingers started lifting the towel to touch herself where she needed to be touched. Her eyes followed the bull sized head of the penis, swinging back and forth, back and forth. It looked huge, impossible to fit into a woman's vagina. Or anywhere else, for that matter. She marveled at its power, stretching the foreskin of the uncircumcised penis to the limit, pushing out, seemingly almost breaking it by its sheer size. Annie stared mesmerized, as her right hand found her sopping wet coochie. Completely oblivious to the rest of the world.
"ANNABELLE WATSON!!"
Annie's eyes whipped around to her father's face, panic freezing her entire body.
Brad Watson stared incredulously at his youngest daughter, whom he had tried to punish just the other day for trying to look at naked boys, MASTURBATING while quite obviously staring at him washing his large cock. He realized that what he had suspected the other day was all too true: Annabelle's good girl act had been just that, an act. If you scratched the surface just a little, a wanton teenage slut stepped out, filled with depraved sexual needs.
The mixed feelings he had had the other day, caught between angry disbelief and fatherly lust, lasted only moments this time. Annabelle had clearly made the choice to disobey him, and there was no use crying over spilled innocence. His daughter was a complete slut, and thus, he had to treat her as one. It was his job as her father to try to break her to make her a good girl again, but the measures needed would have to be harsh. The realization started to make him hard as only fathers who r e a l l y need to show their slutty daughters their place can get.
In no hurry now, he stepped out of the shower and looked at his daughter. She was a fairly short young woman, and was even more dwarfed by his own large frame. She had shoulder long, blonde hair, still slightly wet from her shower, and a cute, if not classically beautiful, face with a very appealing upturned nose. In the new light he was now seeing her, Brad thought that her smiling, happy lips seemed made for kissing roughly or just wrapping around your cock. Funny, he'd never thought of that before. He smiled like an alpha wolf sniffing a deer frightened into submission by the pack.
"Lock the door, Annabelle!" He was proud of how measured his voice was, in spite of his growing lust.
"Daddy, please, I can expl ..."
"Silence! You will not want anyone to hear you take your punishment this time, I think."
Annie fell silent again, even more fearful, since she didn't understand that last, threatening comment.
"Lock the door. I'm not going to tell you again."
Without daring to lose eye contact with her father, Annie fumbled with the lock behind her, but finally managed it. The muted click sounded ominous, somehow. The world outside, getting ready for school, eating breakfast, talking to her mother: it was all gone. Now it was just she and her father.
"Now you will remove the towel. Slut." Her father's voice was low and uncaring.
