Chaterotik

31-Jul-2015 09:02 by 5 Comments

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I had hoped he didn’t mean it, that this was just another punishment, but the way he said it convinced me it was final. It was the same look he had when he shot Dragon our Alsatian. I tried to make him see reason, to convince him that we were to be forever. How could he end something so wonderful, something so perfect? Something, perhaps, must have happened to his hormones. I couldn’t believe my day could ever become so dark. Why on earth couldn’t he see that I could never be happy as just his daughter, and that I could never be remotely happy with any other arrangement?

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That moment came for me last night when I joined a classy babe for one of the hottest cam shows that I’ve ever had the pleasure of being at.

I would forever be grateful for my looks; it was my ultimate shield. I set off on a mission, to hurt as I had been hurt. At such moments, I would really try to feel and have fun, I would let my guard down to see if I would be alive again. No two people were ever in sync as my father and I was. I would do anything; anything, just to have sex with my father again.

My beauty is the glaring kind that every body agrees with. I knew most men wouldn’t resist me; they can’t be as tough as my father, my looks were not enough for that man to change his mind and do the right thing, the best thing. It took a while before I could stand the touch of any other man, but vengeance helped me detach my body from myself. There is a lot a body can do when it is rightly motivated. Thinking about our perfect love brought me tears and gave me joy. With my dad it was perfect, he knew just what I wanted, and how. This many years have past, since I lost my beloved father. And each time, I always leave with an exhausting longing, a fiery desire, and an intense craving.

I was twelve that first time, and a happy child, happier than any other child I knew.

I went to him the third time it happened, it was raining and the thunders scared me. We began to do it more often, and each time I enjoyed it more.

I thought my birthday would have ended sensually, like all the others. My father had never hit me or scolded me; his punishments were usually more severe and silent. When he was pleased with me, he really would take his time and give me much pleasure that I never knew was possible. I begged him not to kill his beloved and only child. He couldn’t even look me in the eye when he said it. In better times and in our previous world, I would have taken him in my arms as I was wont, and work my magic on him. There should be a special kind of voice and words for pronouncements of that nature, something equal and suitably terrible.

I had taken the week off from school just to be with the only man in my life, the best man I ever knew, or so I thought. I went home that day with thoughts of my father obscuring all other thoughts. This was not like before when he would refuse to touch me because I misbehaved. I told him of our joys, our laughs and how love couldn’t be any better. He said he still loved me, but I didn’t believe him, I couldn’t believe that. He only said he was doing it for me, that it was for the best, my best. He even looked sad that day, so sorrowful and tired. I had never asked him, but I sensed that even my mother didn’t take him to the heights I took him. He had said the break up words so casually, so matter of factly, as if he had thought it through and found it a simple matter. Hurting men didn’t make me feel much better; it was a constant reminder to my own heartbreak. Payback did not completely fill the chasm that my father dug in me. I would have easily given everything up for things to get back to what it was. I could never lose the pangs I had for my father’s touch. He told me it was our secret, our special thing, and no one should know about it. And then, on my twentieth birthday, the unthinkable happened. He said it wasn’t right, what we do, and that we must stop. I actually found her cam room totally by mistake, but it’s one of the best mistakes that I’ve ever made.

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