Since finishing school, I’ve been working part time as a barista during the days for the past five years. That wasn’t really making me enough cash to be able to move out of my parents’ place, so about a year ago, I took up a second job as an escort. Compared to the cafe, I was making pretty good money without having to work as hard for it. Go on a date, make your client feel special, maybe have some sex. I could set my own hours, set the rules, and sometimes the sex wasn’t even terrible. There were definitely worse jobs for a woman in her early 20s, not that I was ever game to tell my parents what my second job really was. There have always been issues between us, so my parents finding out I’d taken up a job in the sex industry would’ve been a fucking disaster.
I think once I started discovering myself, my parents were never particularly happy with me. Once I started getting tattoos and facial piercings, that pretty much confirmed it. As if that weren’t enough for them, I keep my black hair fairly short, and I’ve dyed it a combination of bright green and deep purple – none of that wimpy pastel shit for me. I spend my down time listening to various subgenres of electronica and playing games or just generally wasting time online.
Physically, I’m just shy of 5’4″ and I’m quite skinny, with perky little A-cup breasts. My parents are Japanese, so I have naturally light brown skin and brown eyes. I won’t bore you with details of them all, but I’ll just tell you that I have tattoos on my thighs, they cover most of my arms, and there’s a few smaller ones on my back. My piercings are mainly localised to my face – 3 in each ear, one in my nose, one in each eyebrow, plus the one in my belly button.
There were very few girls with my looks and personality in my town, so I guess I filled a niche without really trying. The fact I was good at my job was just icing on the cake for my clients. Word of me and my talents slowly got around town, and soon I had bookings for more than 4 days a week. So when some guy made an appointment to meet me at a motel on a Thursday night, it seemed like business as usual. Oh, how wrong I was.
As per the instructions he’d left me, I checked into the room and waited for him. I touched up my makeup in the mirror, fixed up my hair, played with my phone and generally just killed time while waiting for my appointment to arrive. About 20 minutes passed, and I finally heard someone fumbling with the card key before they managed to open up the door. I put on my best alluring smile and stood in the middle of the room, ready to greet my newest client.
When my father walked into the room, I felt weak at the knees.
“Dad?” Shocked, my mouth was almost too dry to talk, so my voice sounded very hoarse. “Uh, what are you doing here? Do you have the right room?” Ignoring the fact he shouldn’t even be in this hotel at all, nor should I in his mind.
“Of course I have the right room, darling,” he replied smugly. “Did you really think you could keep your little job a secret from your mother and me?”
“Wait, wait, wait. Mum knows about this?”
“Not yet. But that all depends on whether I get what I came here for, Ashley.” He pulled an envelope out of his pants pocket and tossed it casually on the table beside him. “Five grand. Double your going rate. Just our little secret,” he smiled creepily.
“Don’t play dumb, Ash. Do your job: fuck me, you dirty little whore.” He sat down on the sofa and waited.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Jesus Christ, that’s so gross. I always knew you were a fucking pervert, but incest? That’s beyond fucked up, even for you,” I counteroffered. “Why don’t you just keep your money and just not tell Mum?”
“Because the world doesn’t Escort work that way, darling. Now, be a good girl and strip for your Daddy.”
In the moments that followed, I seriously considered whether murdering him would be a viable option. I looked at my father, sitting on the lounge. He was gruff, solid and had very strong hands from working as a mechanic for the past 30 years. The chances of a tiny girl like me overpowering him were pretty non-existent. With no other choice, I swallowed my pride and gave into my father’s perverse blackmail demands.
I turned my back to him and slowly unzipped my dress, revealing my back to him inch by inch. I passed my bra strap and continued down to the end of the zip, an inch or two above my butt. I slid the straps off my shoulders and let the dress fall to the no doubt filthy motel carpet. I looked over my shoulder at him. “Like this?” I asked, my voice trembling more than I liked.
He already had a sizeable tent in his pants. “Just like that, baby. And you’re gonna need to call me ‘Daddy’ any time you address me, sweetie.” He sure did like rubbing salt into the wound.
“Of course, Daddy,” I sighed. I’d seen a few clients who’d made me roleplay as their sister or their daughter, and I was usually pretty okay with that. But none of those guys were my family members, were they? The fact I’d have to be constantly reminding him and myself that I was getting fucked by my father added another dark, twisted layer onto an already awful situation.
He started rubbing his erection through his trousers. “Now your bra and your undies, beautiful.”
Cursing myself for allowing what we about to do, I unhooked my bra and dropped it onto the floor, then put my thumbs in the waistband of my g-string when he interrupted me.
“Turn around, baby.” I turned around, showing my father my small, perky breasts for the first time. Humiliated, I couldn’t look him in the eyes. I suddenly found the motel carpet very fascinating instead. I felt his eyes all over my torso, drinking in my fragile going body. “Now take off your panties.” He paused. “Actually, wait. Come stand here,” he ordered, pointing to the space next to the arm of the couch.
I did as he commanded and stood right next to the arm of the cheap, crappy sofa. “Here, Daddy?” I spat.
He nodded, then groaned audibly while he stood up again and stood uncomfortably close behind me. Almost six feet tall, his massive silhouette eclipsed my own on the sofa. He reached around and grabbed my tits in his rough, grease stained hands. I gritted my teeth as he started squeezing them, tweaking my nipples between his calloused fingers. He then took one step forward, ensuring I could feel his incredibly hard cock as he shoved it into the small of my back.
“Now take your panties off, my sweet baby girl,” he grunted at me.
“Yes, Daddy,” I replied, defeated but so very anxious for this to be over as quickly as possible. Again, I hooked my thumbs into the waistband and slid my thong down my hips, over my thighs, and let them fall around my ankles. He released my breasts, then I heard him fumbling with his belt, then the telltale zip of his fly. Following close behind was the sound of my father’s pants falling in a heap around his ankles.
“I hope you’re putting a condom on,” I cautioned.
“Why would I do a thing like that, babe?” He asked. Seriously.
“Dirty whore like me, there’s no telling what I might have. Daddy.” And vice versa, you fucking creep, I thought.
He groaned and sighed in frustration. “Fine. Do you have any of the fucking things?”
I pointed to my handbag and he waddled over, his pants still around his ankles. He retrieved one and resumed his position behind me, then put Escort Bayan it on.
“Now, where were we, baby?” He ran his gross, rough hands up my arms and then down my back. “Oh yes, that’s right.” He pushed me in the back, forcefully bending me over the arm of the lounge. “Good girl,” he cooed. My skin crawled.
I just about gagged when he slid his cock between my legs and shoved it into my pussy. Thank god the condom was pre-lubed. Grabbing my tiny hips in his dry, rough hands, he slammed forward, driving his cock as far into my pussy as it would go, causing me to squeal. I hate myself for saying this, but he felt so huge and powerful. It was terrifying. He was a little over eight inches, and I felt them all.
He started thrusting hard and fast, grunting, “Daddy’s girl loves that, doesn’t she?” He ran his hands all over my back, tracing the outlines of my tattoos. His body slapped into my ass, thrusting his cock in and out of me faster and faster each time. “Mmm, your pussy feels amazing, baby. You’re making Daddy’s cock feel so fucking good, darling.”
I could do nothing but gasp and squeal while my father violated my pussy, treating me like a glorified ragdoll. Since starting work as an escort, I’d never been treated so rough, taken so forcefully before. Actually, in all my life, I’d never felt as powerless as I did the night that Dad fucked me.
“Speak to your father, Ashley,” Dad commanded, breathlessly. “Tell Daddy everything you feel.”
I’ve always been pretty happy with my ability to dirty talk, but I didn’t know how I would feel talking dirty to my father. Well, that’s not quite true. I knew it’d feel gross, violated, and just wrong in every way. But, I was trapped, terrified and getting paid, so I didn’t feel like I had much of a choice. Begrudgingly, I started dirty talking to my father.
Through clenched teeth, I groaned, “Your cock feels so big, Daddy.” I wasn’t lying. “Pounding your hard dick deep inside your daughter’s pussy… you like that, don’t you, you big pervert?”
“Fuck yeah I do,” he replied. “Daddy’s whore has such a nice pussy. God, I’ve wanted this for years, Ash.” He grabbed my ass, squeezing it in time with his thrusts while he hatefucked me with abandon.
“You’ve waited so long to fuck your daughter, Daddy… Waited years and years to bend me over and fuck me like a dog…” What the fuck is happening to me? Anyone would think I was enjoying this. Holy shit! You are, aren’t you? I continued, “Towering over me and thrusting your big, hard cock deep inside me, grabbing my ass and listening to me talk dirty…” You seriously are starting to get into it, aren’t you, Ash? This is beyond fucked up, even for you. Your Dad’s raping you, and you’re getting off on the loss of control. I couldn’t help myself. I started to feel my nipples hardening, and my pussy felt warm and tingly. Despite everything, I was getting turned on. “Oh Jesus, Daddy… Fuck me!” I cried into the sofa.
“You nasty little slut, you love being fucked hard by your Daddy, don’t you?” He had always loved berating me. I’d have expected nothing less from him in this situation. He panted constantly, fucking me harder than he’d ever fucked in his life. His right hand let go of my ass cheek. Immediately, he grabbed me by my hair and yanked me upright. “Dirty, dirty Daddy’s girl,” he grunted into my ear.
Feeling breathless, increasingly horny, but still very confrontational with my father, I moaned, “Filthy old pervert like you, I bet you’d love to squeeze my perky little tits, wouldn’t you?” I could be just as manipulative as my dear old daddy. He immediately groaned in agreement and, with his spare hand he started clutching at my left breast, rubbing the nipple between his blackened, Bayan Escort callused fingers. I replied with my body, grinding my hips in time to his thrusts, moaning and gasping uncontrollably.
“You think you’re so big and powerful, with all your strength, your big powerful erection, and all your money, don’t you, Daddy?” I teased while grinding my pussy on his thick dick. “Even after tonight, you still won’t be able to control me, no matter how hard you fuck my tight little pussy.”
“I’ll have gotten what I came here for, you disgusting little whore. Now shut the fuck up and get on the floor. You’re gonna make Daddy cum.”
I was almost sad our hatefuck session would soon come to an end. He withdrew his cock from my aching pussy and stepped back. He pointed to the middle of the room.
“There. Be a good Daddy’s girl and get on your knees.”
“Yes, Daddy,” I replied in a mock baby voice that probably did nothing to dampen my perverted father’s libido. I kneeled obediently on the floor, assuming the position I’ve become quite familiar with.
He stood above me, jerking his thick, hard cock, the condom slippery wet with my reluctant juices of arousal. He moaned my name several times, continuing to call me a confusing mix of insults and compliments. I would be lying if I said I hated watching the strong, dominating man who’d raised me masturbating over me. Okay, full disclosure? I started masturbating, too.
Leaning back on one arm, I stared up at my masturbating father and his big, swollen cock and began rubbing my clit with my index and middle fingers. The mixed emotions I was now feeling towards him – betrayal, lust, anger, fear, arousal – swirled around in my mind as we both got ourselves closer to orgasm.
“Take that fucking thing off, Dad,” I demanded. He snapped the condom off his prick in an instant. “You wanna cum on my face, don’t you, you fucking dirty old man?” I berated.
He nodded, called me a “fucking little whore” and started beating his cock like his life depended on it. Likewise, I rubbed my clit faster and faster, anxiously awaiting my father’s cum. I felt myself getting closer, and my face felt flushed, my breathing became laboured, and I felt myself beginning to lightly sweat on my chest and face.
Dad beat me to the finish line, though. He yelled and grunted as his body spasmed, showering me with his white hot load. Wads of my father’s semen rocketed out of his throbbing cock and splattered onto my face, into my open mouth, into my hair, and onto my chest. Watching him cum and coat me with his sperm pushed me over the edge.
“Oooh fuck,” I squealed towards the ceiling, feeling my massive orgasm washing over me like a wave. I moaned, shuddered and twitched like crazy. My pussy contracted multiple times, sending spasms of pleasure throughout my body. When I eventually regained my senses, I lay back, breathless and totally naked, on the floor and looked up at my father, who looked down at me with pride.
He pulled his pants back up and told me “You did good, baby girl,” then left without looking back.
I sat back up, naked, sweaty and covered in my father’s congealing cum. For the first time since I began working as an escort, I felt used, ashamed of myself and utterly disgusted by what I’d allow to happen between us. I couldn’t believe I had gotten so caught up in my father’s depraved incest fantasies. I stood up and headed for the shower. On my way, I spotted the envelope on the table. At least he paid me, I guess, I thought as I opened it. Inside was nothing but blank bits of paper, cut up to make it look like a huge load of cash. The slimy fucking pervert didn’t even have the decency to pay me for his abuse. Thank God I always have a Plan B. I retrieved my phone from its hiding spot and stopped it recording.
“One way or another, you’re going to fucking pay, Dad,” I muttered into the empty room. I set the phone to upload the video to my Dropbox and finally made my way to the shower.