Gender: Male Age: Secret Location: MD, USA
|Introduction: Ok. After a looooong hiatus, I'm back with feeling. Our wonderful little Kimmy is back. Now for those of you keeping track, I promised Chapter 6 to come at the same time. It needed some editing, I realized, so it will be released within the next few days. But of course... DISCLAIMER: For anyone who has not read any of the prior chapters - first of all, shame on you...this is chapter FIVE after all. Also, this story is about a 10 year old girl. Hate all you want, but that's the subject matter, so if you're going to leave a negative rating or comment, read the fucking story first. But however you take it, enjoy!|
I awoke with a start, my whole body jumping as my eyes flew open. That trippy movie starring Leonardo was right: falling is the best way to wake from a dream. As I looked up at the ceiling, I sighed to myself and shook my head of whatever sleepiness still remained, rubbing the back of my head as I sat up. I’d fallen out of my bed again.
It had been weeks since the last time it happened, but each time I ended up on the floor, I was reminded of just how lonely my bed was. Each time, of course, except this time. As I rose to my feet, I looked at my bed to find a naked little girl splayed over the down comforter, softly snoring away. I smiled to myself as I reached toward her, grabbing the covers and working them over her once again. She rolled with the comforter as I moved it from beneath her, and as the warmth came over her, she smiled wide and moaned softly, tucking into her pillow. I chuckled as I looked on, shaking my head once again at her silliness. Ever my little girl.
I looked to my bedside clock and realized that, while my morning was off to a literally bumpy start, it was beginning around the same time it usually did – 6 a.m. I yawned softly as I moved to my bathroom, ready to take a shower and start the day. The room was filled with a slight chill that told me it must have still been snowing outside, but my brain was still too clouded to have the wherewithal to actually look out a window and check. I yawned again, scratching my hairless chest as I looked over my face and neck. Stretching my neck upward, I looked along my nose into the wide mirror, surveying my facial hair. I shrugged to myself, deciding to skip my usual shave this morning. Looking myself over, I realized I was still naked from the night before, still somewhat sticky from my veritable assault on my ten year old daughter.
Moving into the shower, I thought on the day ahead; because it was seemingly still snowing out, I wasn’t going anywhere, and I might be able to get some work done. Turning on two of the three shower heads I had in my large locker room style shower, I let the cold water wash over me as it slowly turned to the temperature I liked. I stood in the gentle running water, letting the prior day’s events wash off of me along with the dead skin, dried sweat, and loose hair. I hadn’t forgotten about all that had happened - how could I, after all? But for now, I was just going to let everything wash over me and let events unfold as they may.
I tried to let this shower be like any other, calming and preparatory. I was cleaning away the prior day and formulating my plans for a new one. As I started washing my hair, I returned to the thought of getting some work done. The Conte Phillip and Holt’s account still needs some attention. That nasty redundancy loop that I still can’t find needs to be located and dealt with. I also need to get on the GeneCom Pharmaceuticals account before Daniel calls me up to rip into me again. Hmm… What else?
I did my best to avoid any thought of what had transpired between my daughter and me, even though it bore more thought than anything work related. I was having a relatively normal shower - no thoughts of doing anything inappropriate with my little girl, just spending a pleasant day with her inside the house… that we were stuck in… alone… together… Fuck. After lathering my body with my luffa, I leaned against the wall with my hands, looking down to the tiled floor as the dual shower heads beat into my head with their gentle flow. I thought I heard the soft patter of little feet coming up behind me, and without looking back, I muttered “not while I’m in the shower, baby.” When I got no response, I leaned up and looked back to find no one there.
Maybe I was still a little tired, I seem to have been hearing things. I rubbed my face in my hands before turning off the shower and moving to a fresh towel to dry off. Through the steam of my fairly large bathroom, I couldn’t see all the way into it or see much of anything, including my own reflection, as I walked up to the mirror. I used the towel to rub my hair out and had already taken it over my body, so after I rubbed at the inside of my ears with it, I dropped it to the counter and moved to the toilet. Yawning once again with closed eyes, I took my soft cock in hand, aimed lazily and fired. The sound my ears were met with was the usual echoed splash of my stream connecting with water. A small part of me, however, wished I heard a very different sound, but I dismissed that thought almost as soon as I got it. I finished my flow, flushed and moved back into my bedroom.
As my thoughts lazily drifted, I moved about the room, opening the curtains, allowing what little morning light there was to cascade over my nude body. My armoire was my next target, putting on a pair of boxer briefs, a t-shirt and some actual pajama pants all while thinking of what I must do to address my daughter’s grievous indiscretions. I shook my head in disbelief once more over what she’d done. Saving so much raw sexual data of a prepubescent nature was still truly appalling… and slightly intriguing as well. I resolved to remove her computer from her room and put it into my closet for a length of time to be determined later and, at some point, to explore the vast amount of porn I had transferred onto my own computer.
So now fully awake, with a rough plan of how to proceed with my day, I set about putting that plan into action. Checking the bed to make sure my sweet little girl was still sound asleep, I left my room as quietly as possible, closing the door gently behind me. Moving down to Kimmy’s room, continuing to be just as quiet as I could be, I turned her computer back on. I opened all of the parental controls previously not installed on her older, but not outdated PC. I was going to physically take away her computer for a while, but when she got it back, I wanted it made clear that her punishment was going to be severe and prolonged. I even embedded a security algorithm to the controls so that, without the program key, the password would be nearly impossible for her to guess should she attempt to further betray my trust. I didn’t want to think the worst of my sweet little daughter, but after such gross misconduct, too much was not enough.
After I was happy with the new measures on her computer, I shut it off and started unplugging everything. Once I’d gathered up the components, I went looking in her closet for the original box. When it comes to electronics, I’m fastidious over every detail – I always keep the original box. It’s a habit I found early in life that makes moving or selling any such item a whole lot easier. With everything packed up, I took the box out into the hall and lowered the stairs to the attic. There was a lot of olds things up there, as one might imagine; there were all of the Christmas ornaments, an old bench I used to use before I got my Total Gym, along with a myriad of other miscellaneous boxes filled with anything from Kimmy’s old clothes to a few of my old computers I saved for spare parts.
I put Kimmy’s computer down in no place in particular. I knew at least I could trust her not to try and retrieve it from up there, so where it was made no difference. I sighed as I stood upright, looking around the darkened room. There were a lot of old memories up there, including several small boxes of Carol’s old things. I was too distraught when she’d died to get rid of any of it, and I kept resolving over the past few years to have a yard sale and get rid of it all. But because we lived in an area where my next door neighbor is about an hour away, it’s something I ‘never got around to’ as it were. I sighed again, clearing my mind of the past as I made my way back down the small staircase.
Closing up the attic entrance, I sighed again with my hands on my hips, asking myself what I’d do next. I wondered what time it was at this point and I looked to my wrist to find my Movado watch I now realized I put on as part of my morning routine. It read 7:24 and I thought to myself wow. It’s taken me over an hour to get basically nothing done… I walked down the hall to my office and quickly set up to get some work done.
I started tacking away on my keyboard after bringing up the Conte Phillip and Holt account I was thinking about earlier. After some time, I found the redundancy issue in the collections program I was tasked with debugging and I was even able to cut out some unnecessary code; so much so that it reduced the overall server file size by a few megabytes. It wasn’t much, but I was kind of proud of my work. Leaning back in my chair once I’d reformatted the program and saved it all to the project file, I sighed deeply and checked my wall clock – 11:03. That’s a bit more like it, I thought. I shut down my computer and headed for my room to see if Kimmy was still asleep.
When I opened my door - quietly so as not to risk waking her - I found my bed empty. I heard the shower running though, so I went to the bathroom to surprise my little Kimmy. As I walked in, I was inundated with even more steam than what I’d created earlier. I got a wicked idea and decided to act on it. Stripping off my clothes as quickly and as quietly as I could, I slowly crept to the open shower with the three heads. It was a rather unique design; the entire bathroom wall was covered in the same tile as the floor and the shower was in one corner, with only a third opaque partition as a splash guard to keep the rest of the bathroom floor dry. The shower heads were arranged such that there would be more than enough coverage for four people if they were positioned correctly, but just in case, one was on a long hose for easier ‘range’.
As I poked my head around the partition, seemingly unnoticed up to now, I saw a sight that melted my heart. Were I to observe the same scene only a few days earlier, I might have freaked out from a mix of embarrassment and concern for the sexual well-being of my daughter, but now… What I was now witnessing through the mist, being created by all three heads, was my little girl, holding the multi-setting shower head between her thighs, pressed against the wall, moaning softly as the ‘massage’ setting worked it’s magic on her magnificent cunny-hole. Her eyes were shut tightly, so as I crept closer, she didn’t notice until my back broke the flow of the outermost showerhead.
Her eyes flew open as her mouth and face screwed up in what had to be an intense orgasm. Seemingly, getting caught combined with being startled sent her straight over the edge. She moaned and screamed, bucking her hips against the large showerhead that she now jammed betwixt her thighs. I took the opportunity to press my body against her and nibble at her neck as she rode the wave, which, given her positioning wasn’t so easy, but I made it work. When she was done adding her own fluids to the considerable amount of liquid flowing down the drain, she opened her eyes slowly – those big, pretty eyes – and smiled at me so wide I felt her teeth may escape her head.
“Mm… morning, daddy,” she cooed before leaning up to peck my cheek. I was about to reply with a wry smile before she slapped me softly on the same cheek she’d kissed. I stepped back in surprise, prompting a “bad daddy. Sneaking up on me like that.” As I reached for her torso, tickling her with a vengeance, she fell into a giggle fit so quickly, she dropped the hose from her hand…right on my foot. I stepped away from it, more startled than in pain, but she yelled out, “oh! Daddy, I’m so sorry!” And how she reacted, I could not have been prepared for, ever.
She knelt down in front of me and, rather than going for my foot, she grabbed my cock with both hands, and shoved it right in her mouth. Now, given the scene I snuck up on, it had been growing little by little, but with how quickly she engulfed it, my only reaction was to grab to the back of her head with one and slam my other into the wall to gain my balance. We both, in unison declared “mmph!” as she settled onto her knees, hot water still cascading over both of us. She started bobbing her head so hard and so fast over my knob that any pain the showerhead may have caused my foot was being overtaken by the sudden intense pleasure I was feeling about a foot and a half above it.
When I’d regained by balance, I became acutely aware of my cock growing to full size inside my little girl’s accommodating mouth. She let go of the base and just braced her hands on my thighs as she tried to deepthroat me with every muscle in her mouth and neck. My little Kimmy was still a novice though and she kept scraping her teeth on my tender flesh and her gag reflex kept trying to take over her throat. I guess the water beating down on us wasn’t helping matters, because she was such a champ the day before. Either that, or yesterday had been a fluke. I reached down, finding her chin in my palm and I pulled her off of my gently. Looking down into her one open eye, I breathed “thank you, baby. But you’ll suffocate if you keep that up.”
Coming to her feet with a wry smile, showerhead in hand she says, “well how else am I supposed to get your daily load?” I was taken aback by her use of the term so much that I didn’t respond before she continued. “Besides, you didn’t come in here all naked just to shower with me, did you?” It was still surprising, even after about a good 24 hours of this ‘new Kimmy’, but I was quickly getting used to her brazen language. And at least now I knew, beyond any doubt, what the source of most of it had to be.
“Well, true, but you seemed to be doing fine on your own when I came in.” We smirked at each other right before she hopped on her toes to peck my lips, then sprayed me in the face with the showerhead. Recoiling quickly, I grabbed it out of her hand with no resistance from her and sprayed her face in kind. Then I flipped it upward and shoved it back where she’d had it before – pointed right at her clit. She gasped and moaned all at once and backed into the wall, to where I, of course, followed.
“Oh, Daddy,” she cried out. “Oh it feels so good. I love this shower so much.”
“Mm. So this is why you ask me to use my shower all the time.” I smirked at her as I pulled the head away from her slightly, letting the massaging stream hit her from a slight distance, which was bound to feel a lot different. And judging by her reaction, I was right.
“Oh God, Daddy! Just like that! Right there!” came her response, and soon, she would too. That is, unless I pull away, which is exactly what I did. I hoisted the hose-head back onto its mount on the wall. It took her a moment or two to realize that I wasn’t going to continue. As she opened her eyes to look up at me, that same look of lust in her eyes that I was slowly growing accustomed to seeing, she first pouted then smirked at me. “Part of my punishment, mm?”
I smirked back, “you catch on quick, little girl.” I reached down and slapped her ass which, given where we were and our state of moisture, created a resounding echo. She squirmed with a soft whimper, not with the gasp I was expecting. “Ass still sore?” She nodded slightly with a bitten lip. “Ohh, but you like it, don’t you?” She shook her head slowly, taking more of her lip between her teeth, which of course meant ‘yes’ instead of ‘no’. Without another word passing between us, she turned around, faced the wall to which she’d been leaning, and braced her hands against it, pointing her ass out at me. Staring at her shapely rump, her pussy lips being opened slightly by how far apart she spread her legs, my cock began to crave that tiny hole of hers. But, I took my cue correctly and sidled up behind her, grabbing her side with one hand and raising my other hand dramatically into the air.
With the water from the showers falling over us, I let my hand hang high for a long moment before bringing it down sharply, striking both her cheeks as it had the night before. Given her positioning, the expanse of my hand caused the center of my palm to make contact with her outer folds as well. This caused a deep moan rather than a yelp to escape her lips. “Oh God, Daddy.” She looked up at me over her shoulder, as she had the night before while accepting her punishment. In her most serious tone, over the sounds of the showers, she said firmly. “I accept my punishment with humility and appreciation.” I kept my hand where it landed as she continued, literally frozen by the severity of her words. “What I did to you… to your trust in me, was unforgivable.” She whipped her drenched hair out of her face so she could look up at me with both eyes unobstructed. “Cause me as much physical, emotional or psychological pain as you see fit.” This caused my heart to sink that she would even think I meant for her punishment to be emotionally scarring. But what she said next allayed those feelings as she raised herself on her toes to point her ass higher into the air, taking my hand with it. “But if you don’t fuck me after you’re done spanking me right now, I promise I won’t speak to you all day.”
Flabbergasted, I could only stare back at her for a long while. My hand was still resting over the whole of her bum, and the water was starting to get a little cold, having been running constantly for what had to be twenty minutes by now. I raised my hand into the air again, slowly, and I saw in her eyes a sense of both fear and anticipation. What I did with that airborne hand, though, was to turn off the showers. The almost deafening quiet caused by the absence of running water was replaced only with the sound of that same water going down the drain that I now stood over. Looking back down at my ten year old progeny, I smirked slightly, raising my hand again. She slowly braced herself, leaning part of her chest into the wall, squinting her eyes and raising onto her toes again. My left hand was still clutching her side gently to hold her in place, and as my hand came down again, the crack of my palm came off like a whip in the new quiet of the bathroom.
“Anh!” she screamed. “Oh Daddy. I love you.” She looked over her shoulder again, eyes open right at me in a pouty face, in spite of her obvious enjoyment. “I’m so sorry for what I’ve done.” I wondered briefly if these same theatrics would continue every time I spanked her during the blizzard, but I shook it off as I raised my hand again. This time, I decided I wanted to give her a little extra shock. As I brought my hand down again, I bent my middle finger such that, upon impact, not only did I elicit the same whip-cracking sound against her ass, but I penetrated her tiny asshole down to my last knuckle as smoothly as if my whole finger were coated in thick lubricant.
Again she screamed, "Annnh!" Clearly she felt the intrusion, made more apparent by the fact that she was now blatantly writhing against my hand. She cooed as her muscles grew accustomed to the errant digit and she looked back at me again, her eyes opening slowly. "You're such a bad Daddy."
"Well you're such a bad girl," I replied. "It seemed only fitting." I smirked at her as I slowly worked my finger in and out of her little pucker, her moaning causing an echoing chorus in our otherwise empty, cavernous bathroom. I let her gyrating against my finger continue for a few more seconds before I let it come all the way out of her, much to her vocal chagrin. "Now now… you take your punishment like a good girl rather than a bad girl and this will all be over sooner."
She re-braced against the wall, pointing her ass at me as high as her little feet would allow. "Who says I want any of this to stop?" she moaned.
"Oh really?" I smiled back, bringing my hand down as hard as I could, causing her cheek to slam into the wall from the force. My fatherly instincts kicked in momentarily as I took my hand from her ass and caressed her cheek for a second. She both cooed and pouted into my touch. "Do you get it now? We can have our fun, but this IS a punishment, sweetheart."
She pouted again and replanted her feet, looking down between her arms at the floor. She spoke lowly, "then punish me, Daddy." I noticed her shaking her head as she continued. "Make me your bitch, your slut, your cumbucket, I don't care. I deserve every bit of it…" Her voice cut off with the last few words, choked up as she started to cry softly. Admittedly, this made me feel a strange mixture of emotions; I wanted to stop her spanking and hold my little girl, but at the same time I wanted to continue striking her already sore little ass. And through all this, of course, my mind was fighting my cock, which had remained achingly hard for the last ten minutes or so. As I continued to watch her cry, I noticed a tear fall to the tiled floor and my heart sank to the floor along with it. I couldn't keep hitting her; punishment or not, deserved or not, the second I saw that tear, I was done.
"No, baby," I said as I slowly started massaging her ass. I heard her sniffling as she looked up at me over her shoulder again. We locked eyes as I continued, "If you are going to be any of those things, I want you to be them by choice, not because you owe me for something you've done." Still stroking her softly, she moved to stand upright, but didn't make a move to cause me to stop. "By the way… cumbucket? Where did you learn such a term?"
She continued talking to the wall, covered in what is more sweat now than water, most of it having evaporated off of the both of us. "I have a video with that title, silly. It's a common term amongst pedophiles, apparently." Even to this day, with as old as she's become, I'm still surprised at her candor when it comes to such sexual things. I guess a father never really sees his daughter as anything other than his little girl, and I'm no exception. "Besides," she turned around to face me, my hand on her rump falling away, "it's appropriate in most cases."
"Mm, I think a better term for you would be cumslut, seeing as how much you want to always take it from me." I smirked at her as I reached down to tweak her right nipple. She giggled but didn't turn or pull away.
"You're right about that, Daddy. It just feels so good on my skin, and it tastes so good in my mouth." Earlier, seeing her crying, deflated my cock rather simply. But her words and demeanor now were bringing it quickly back to life - and she noticed. "Mmm. Speaking of which…" She reached her little hand out and grasped my thickness gently, stroking it with a slow steady rhythm. "It seems he wants to give me some."
"You bet he does, baby," I replied, stroking her drying hair. "But that's going to have to wait." I reached down and took her hand from my cock, eliciting her usual pouty face. She seemed about to drop to her knees, but she stopped and stood back, taking her cue from me with wide eyes. "C'mon, sweetie. Let's get dried off. If you want my cum so bad, I'll give it to you on the bed." This seemed to satisfy her, as she beamed up at me with closed eyes and swatted at my bare ass, moving past me.
I followed her out toward the towel rack, taking up the same towel I'd used hours before, her taking a fresh one. Mine was only slightly damp, but with as dry as I was already, it did the job. We both spent the most time on our hair. When we were both satisfactory with our state of dryness, she grabbed her flat brush, which I guess she took from her own bathroom before coming into mine, and I grabbed my comb. We made our hair less of a mess, all the while looking more at each other in the mirror than ourselves.
The fog usually found on the mirror after a long shower was long gone and I could clearly see every little part of her lithe, tiny body. I smiled as I surveyed my perfect little creation. Her smile - so pure, yet so naughty. Her golden hair - making her every bit as much my little goldilocks as she is my Cinderella turned princess. Her budding chest - proving that she's still just a girl, but will soon be a voluptuous young woman. Her stomach - so taut, with its cute little button and not an ounce of baby fat left on it. Her pussy - so fucking delicious and fat in its hairless state, it surely secretes the nectar of the Gods. Her legs - so toned and long for her age, going on forever to her cute little feet. And of course, her ass - so round and perfect, I'd take a bite out of it like it were a peach if I weren't so afraid I'd draw blood.
She caught me staring as she had both hands in her hair; she smiled that wicked smile back at me and did a little shimmy. "Like what you see, Daddy?"
"You know I do, baby. Every bit of you." She beamed at me again, returning every bit of the warmth I had in my eyes for her. "Now finish up, Daddy's getting soft again." I looked down at my half-hardened cock with a mock frown and she giggled slightly. She took only another minute to work the tangles out of her hair, dropping the brush to the sink and grabbing my cock with one hand, she started stroking it softly. She looked up at me through our reflections in the mirror with a wry smile, still stroking me. For some reason, watching her in the mirror, able to see not only her entire body, but my own, was so hot I was hard within seconds. "Mm, you're getting really good at that, baby."
She moaned back at me, squinting her eyes slightly as, with her free hand, she started in on her own crotch. "Mm, you should let me practice more, Daddy."
"That's exactly what we're going to do. C'mon." I went to move away, and she followed in step, walking next to me - awkwardly so as we made it through the door - so as not to let go of my third leg. I chuckled at her as we made it slowly to my bed. "Don't wanna let him go, huh?"
"Nope. He needs me more than you might think." She smiled at me like she knew something I didn't. And I have to say that, given her statement, I'd have to agree - I had no idea what she meant.
"Is that so? And why does he need you so badly?" We settled into my bed, she fell against my legs gently, staring at my member now as she resumed stroking it.
She seemed to feel the need to wrap her lips around my head before answering me, suckling slightly. I gasped, of course, which made her giggle, cockhead still in her mouth. She swallowed, which told me I must have had some precum worth having. She smiled up at me as she released me from her hot mouth. I could only smile back as she finally replied, "with mom gone, we can't have you milking this impressive cock of yours and putting all this delicious cum to waste, now can we?" Of course, I knew she meant she didn’t want me masturbating in or on anything but her, and the reference to Carol passed over me without a twinge, as it normally would. Thinking back on it, I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t think much of it, but maybe I should have felt bad, because slowly, I was beginning to see my own daughter as a replacement to my late wife.
“Mmm, well, you can’t always be here when I get horny.” I stroked my fingers through her still semi-damp hair as she continued to suckle me gently. “But, since you’re already in the mood to blow me, let’s make this your punishment.” This made her pull away from me and look up into my eyes, catching me off guard, as she always does, with her provocative blue eyes. “You’re going to learn how to give a proper fellatio, my dear little girl.” She smiled back at me and repositioned herself to sit up between my legs, letting go my member entirely, much like a puppy waiting for a treat – her ‘tail’ was even wagging against the bed.
She tilted her head to the side and spoke in her infantile voice that drives me nuts. “Is daddy gonn’ teach howda suck his penis bettoh?” A shiver ran up my spine at the thought of her being even younger than her ten years and asking me that same question when that manner of speech would have been more commonplace.
“Yes, dear, I am.” I then proceeded, for the next several minutes, to give her a verbal critique of her technique. She stayed intent on me as I mentioned her improper use of her teeth, how she should be less concerned with actually sucking than with the motion of her neck and head, among many other little things I noticed during the times she tried to blow me. She nodded everyso often and she kept a soft smile through my explanations of the different nerve endings along my cock and which areas were most sensitive. It may seem strange to offer such a verbal education over a practical one, but I know my daughter, she’s an auditory learner; if she hears something first, she is much better at applying it later. “Any questions?” She shook her head with the same soft smile and I could tell she was eager to use what she’d learned. “Alright then, time for your punishment…” She reached to grab my now softened cock but I stopped her. “No, dear. The punishment is, you don’t get to do that now.” She fell back to sit on her feet again, as she had been before, pouting. “It’s late in the morning and neither of us has eaten yet. Let’s go downstairs, and if you’re a very good girl, I’ll give you my load for the day.”
Her lips went crooked for a moment, as if considering what she seemed to think was a proposal. She seemed pleased with it and gave a nod, but said nothing as she came to her feet, still naked as the day she was born. I chuckled at her, “you make it seem like that was a request.”
“Oh I know I have no choice. I am your cumslut after all.” She smirked. “I just like the fact that you just told me you would give me your load.” She giggled maniacally for a moment before adding, “I do so like the sound of that. I can’t wait for you to cum all over me, Daddy.” My cock twitched at that while we moved out of my room and down the stairs into the kitchen.
“Well whoever said I was going to cum ON you?” She giggled at me as I swatted her ass sharply, jumping away from me into the kitchen. “So what do we want for breakfast?” I already had a plan for what to make and I started grabbing ingredients out of the fridge.
She sat in her normal stool at the island and looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully, leaning on the marble tabletop with swaying feet. “Umm…” she muttered. I pulled out all the components for some specialty omelets I concocted the recipe for some years back. When I was still single, I didn’t eat very well; I was relegated to the standard bachelor diet of ramen, (at the time) peanut butter, and other various extremely cheap food stuffs that kept well. After I started dating Carol I was so ashamed I didn’t know how to cook I took up a class at the college I would later attend to get my degree. It became a fast passion of mine and I started experimenting with different ingredients. I quickly found what magic the right spices can bring.
My omelet recipe was simple in and of itself: 3 eggs each with mushrooms, spinach, homemade hollandaise sauce and a variety of herbs and spices. I got the idea when I had lunch with Carol at our local IHOP and I thought to myself that I could make it better. After a few tries, and some experimenting with different spices I wouldn’t have ordinarily thought to try – like nutmeg and coriander – I found a recipe that was literally ‘to die for’. Well, adults would think so anyway. For the unrefined and amateur palette of my little Kimmy, they’re a little gross. But I felt like having one, so she was just going to have to deal with it.
As I gathered what I needed, she began to pay attention and realize what I was doing. “Ohh…” she groaned. “I don’t want those yucky omelets…” She pouted for a moment with a “hmph!” And then she added “is this part of my punishment.”
I chuckled lightly, “no, baby. I just really want one, and it’s just easier to make a second one for you.” I started slicing the mushrooms with a rather sharp knife. She pouted again at my response and in my periphery, I saw her move slightly. I kept on preparing the ingredients, moving around the kitchen, never really looking over at her as I worked. I began to hum after a few minutes of prep and, having come to a point in the process, I turned the burner on and started cooking. Before I cracked the first egg, my nose caught wind of fresh flowers. I smile to myself, thinking of Carol. She always kept a fresh bouquet of flowers in the kitchen.
It was at that point I remembered - as if for some reason I’d forgotten - that Carol was dead, and that the smell I was picking up on could only be one other thing. I looked over to my daughter in her stool. Her feet were propped up on the edge of the island counter, her eyes were closed, her mouth was open, and both of her hands were busy fingering both her tight, pink little pussy and her taut little asshole. I smirked to myself and shook my head, returning to my work as I muttered “so that’s what you’re going to do when you’re bored now?” The only response I got was a loud moan from my daughter, seemingly having taken my words as a cue to no longer try and hide her cooing from me. I shook my head as I looked on for a moment, watching as my own daughter squirted her own juices all over my marbled countertop in what appeared to be a powerful orgasm that made her back arch off the stool.
I resolved to myself right then to not ever, unless it were with my tongue, clean up any of her 'messes' when they occur. So her hot, flavorful cocktail now strewn across my countertop, was going to remain as permanent stain. When her breathing normalized, she finally found the wherewithal to respond. “Daddy… I wish you had been watching me. I love it when you look at me.” I chuckled, thinking great. Not only is my daughter growing into a cumslut, but an attention whore as well.
Instead, I said aloud “I’m busy making something to fill your little tummy up with.” I had already started making the first omelet and was busy making a simple granola as it cooked.
This elicited a moan from her as she came to her feet and moved over to me, reaching into my robe to grasp my semi-hard cock. “This is all I want to fill my tummy up with, Daddy.” I smirked, reaching in to get her hand from me, drawing it to my lips in a soft kiss before releasing it. She smiled up at me, vaguely accepting that as the only response she was going to get. She returned to her seat with a hard, heavy sigh, to which I only looked up at her bemusedly.
On a sheer whim that I still would have difficulty explaining, I looked at her again and said “tell me why you want to be my cumslut.” She was taken aback, for obvious reasons, but her answer came quickly.
With fingers outstretched at every point, she counted “because you’re my Daddy and I love you and I think you’re sexy and I want to fuck you all the time until my holes are numb and your cum is so tasty and it feels good all over my body and…” She paused with crooked lips, looking up for a moment. “And… mommy’s gone and you’re not allowed to find another one, but you still gotta cum or you’ll get blue balls and somebody’s gotta do it and I won’t anyone else do it but me and I know you like little girls so I looooove the idea of you wanting to fuck me just as badly and—“
I raised my hand, chuckling lightly, “that’s quite enough, silly.” She lowered her hands with a wide smile. I simply sighed, shook my head, finished making the second omelet (having had plenty of time while she compiled her list) and served us each a plate. Passing her share to her, she smiled at me again. I sighed once more, muttering “confessions of a preteen cumslut.” We both had a good giggle as we dug in. I thought evenly this is indeed going to be a long blizzard.
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