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#Incest #Mature #Teen #Virgin
By IronKnucklesMike
The love of a father who dreams of a good future for his little girl, wins up giving more than he bargained for.
The soft creak of the floorboards beneath my boots echoed faintly as I stepped into the hallway, careful not to let the sound disturb the peaceful quiet of the house. I didn’t bother turning on the lights; the faint glow from the moon outside spilled through the windows, casting just enough light to guide me. It wasn’t the first time I found myself walking this familiar path to her room, and I doubted it would be the last.
My hand brushed the doorframe, roughened knuckles catching on the wood grain. I paused there for a moment, taking a deep breath. It wasn’t fear—not exactly—but there was a weight to these moments that I could never quite shake. Maybe it was because she was all I had left, the only thing in my life that kept me tethered. Or maybe it was just because she was my little girl.
The door was cracked open, just enough for me to see inside. The soft, rhythmic sound of her breathing was like a balm to the tension that always sat coiled in my chest. It was steady, peaceful, untouched by the kind of darkness I’d spent my whole life battling against.
I leaned against the frame, arms crossed over my chest, and let my eyes adjust to the dim light. She was curled up on her side, clutching that ragged old teddy bear I’d won for her at a carnival years ago. The thing was missing an eye, and its fur was more patch than plush, but she refused to part with it. Said it made her feel safe.
Her hair spilled across the pillow in a dark halo, the same shade as mine, but her delicate features were all her mother. God, she looked so small in that bed, lost in a sea of blankets. It struck me then, like it always did, just how fragile she was. Fragile but resilient—a strange paradox I’d never quite been able to reconcile.
I stepped inside, keeping my movements slow and deliberate. The hardwood floor was cool under my bare feet now, my boots left at the door to keep the noise down. I stopped at the edge of her bed, lowering myself into a crouch so I was closer to her level. For a long moment, I just watched her, listened to the even rise and fall of her chest, the faint murmur of whatever dream she might have been lost in.
She twitched slightly, and my muscles tensed instinctively. Her brows furrowed, her lips parted as if she might cry out. I reached out, my hand hovering over her shoulder, ready to wake her if I needed to. But then the tension eased, her face smoothing out into that serene expression she wore when she was truly at peace.
I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and let my hand fall back to my side.
“You’re stronger than you know, kiddo,” I whispered, my voice barely louder than a thought. “Way stronger than your old man.”
For a moment, I let myself believe that was true. That she’d grow up untouched by the shadows that seemed to cling to me no matter how hard I tried to shake them off. That she’d never have to see the kind of world I’d clawed my way out of, fists bloodied and knuckles scarred.
I stood slowly, careful not to make a sound, and backed toward the doorway. Leaning against the frame again, I stayed there longer than I probably needed to, watching her. Guarding her, like I could somehow keep the nightmares at bay just by being there.
Maybe I couldn’t protect her from everything, but I’d be damned if I didn’t try.
After all, she was my whole world.
—
8 years later…
The smell of bacon and eggs filled the kitchen as I stood at the stove, spatula in hand, flipping the sizzling strips. The morning sun streamed through the window, catching the faint steam rising off the coffee cup on the counter. I glanced over my shoulder at the clock. It was nearly time to leave, but Lucinda had a habit of dragging her feet in the mornings.
“Luce,” I called, my voice just loud enough to carry through the house. “Breakfast is ready! If you don’t get your butt down here soon, I’m eating your share.”
I heard her groan from somewhere upstairs, followed by the heavy thud of her footsteps on the stairs. A moment later, she shuffled into the kitchen, her dark hair pulled into a messy ponytail, her backpack slung over one shoulder. She was in her school uniform—blue skirt and blazer with white button-down—but the way she wore it screamed defiance, her shirt untucked and her tie hanging loose around her neck.
“You wouldn’t,” she mumbled, dropping her backpack onto the floor with a thud and collapsing into her usual seat at the table.
I smirked, sliding a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast in front of her. “Try me.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, picking up her fork and digging in. I leaned against the counter, sipping my coffee as I watched her eat. She was taller now, almost as tall as her mother had been, with a wiry frame that reminded me she was growing up way too fast. But there was still something childlike about her, in the way her face lit up when she ate her favorite breakfast, or the way she groaned dramatically when I mentioned the time.
“We’re gonna be late,” I said, setting my mug down.
“Five more minutes,” she muttered around a mouthful of toast.
“Nope. Finish up and grab your stuff. You know the deal.”
She sighed but obeyed, shoving the last of her food into her mouth and heading for the sink to rinse her plate. A minute later, she had her backpack slung over her shoulder again, and I was grabbing the keys from the hook by the door.
The drive to school was quiet, as it usually was in the mornings. Lucinda had her earbuds in, nodding along to whatever music she had blasting in her ears, while I focused on the road. The streets were busy with parents and school buses, and I had to fight the urge to speed up every time someone cut me off.
When we pulled up to the school, she popped out her earbuds and turned to me. “Alright, see ya, Dad.”
“Hold up,” I said, reaching out to touch her arm before she could open the door.
She rolled her eyes but didn’t pull away. “What?”
I looked her in the eye, my voice soft but firm. “Daddy loves you very much, Darlin’.”
She sighed, a mix of embarrassment and affection flickering across her face. “I know, Dad. I love you too.”
“Good.” I smiled, leaning back in my seat. “Now get outta here before you’re late.”
She grinned, grabbing her backpack and climbing out of the car. I watched her jog toward the school building, her ponytail bouncing behind her, and felt that familiar mix of pride and worry settle in my chest.
As she disappeared into the crowd of students, I lingered for a moment, my hand still resting on the gear shift. No matter how much time passed, no matter how old she got, I didn’t think I’d ever stop watching over her.
“Be good, Luce,” I muttered to myself, finally pulling away from the curb.
—
The rhythmic hum of machinery filled the air, a constant backdrop to the sound of lumber being fed through saws and planers. The smell of sawdust was thick, clinging to my clothes and skin as I moved between stations, checking on the team. The construction mill was nothing fancy, but it was honest work, and it paid well enough to keep Lucinda’s life steady—and that was all that mattered to me.
I tugged my gloves tighter as I approached one of the conveyor belts, nodding to Jimmy, one of the younger guys on the crew. He was fresh out of high school, eager but green, and I’d taken him under my wing when he started a couple of months back.
“Jimmy,” I called over the noise, gesturing for him to double-check the alignment on the saw blade. “You’re letting the feed run a little crooked. Fix it before you jam the line.”
“Yes, sir,” he replied, wiping sweat from his brow before leaning in to adjust the mechanism.
I moved on, my boots crunching over the stray sawdust scattered across the floor. The mill was hot and loud, the kind of place that demanded focus and grit. But I didn’t mind it. Hell, I’d been working jobs like this since I was younger than Jimmy. It was second nature by now.
At the sorting station, Tony was stacking finished planks onto a pallet, his pace slower than usual. I clapped him on the shoulder as I passed, offering a quick grin. “C’mon, old man, you’re moving like molasses today.”
Tony barked out a laugh, his weathered face splitting into a smile. “Don’t start with me, Falcone. My knees ain’t what they used to be.”
“Excuses,” I shot back, shaking my head. “But fine, I’ll let you off easy. This time.”
The banter kept the day from dragging, but my mind wasn’t entirely here. It never was, not really. Even as I hauled lumber or kept the guys in line, a part of me was always back home, thinking about Lucinda.
By lunchtime, I was leaning against the loading dock, unwrapping a sandwich I’d packed that morning. The sun was high in the sky, and the warm breeze carried the faint scent of pine from the stacks of fresh lumber piled nearby.
Tony joined me, settling onto an overturned crate with a grunt. “You’ve been quiet today,” he said, taking a swig from his thermos. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah,” I said, though my voice lacked conviction. “Just thinking about Luce. She’s fourteen now, you know?”
Tony whistled low. “Fourteen, huh? Bet that’s got you feeling old.”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “Yeah, something like that. She’s a good kid, though. Real smart. I just…” I trailed off, staring at the horizon. “I wanna make sure I’m doing right by her, you know? Giving her everything she needs.”
Tony nodded, his expression softening. “You’re a good dad, Mike. That girl’s lucky to have you.”
I didn’t say anything, just took another bite of my sandwich and let the words sink in. Lucky. Maybe. But if anyone was lucky, it was me. She’d given me purpose when I needed it most, pulled me out of the dark and kept me going.
The whistle blew, signaling the end of lunch, and I shoved the rest of my sandwich into my mouth as I stood. There was still a full afternoon of work ahead, and I couldn’t afford to slack off—not with Lucinda depending on me.
Back inside, the noise of the mill swallowed me whole, but I didn’t mind. Every plank I stacked, every piece of equipment I fixed, every bead of sweat that dripped down my face—it was all for her. For her future.
By the time the shift ended, the ache in my muscles was a familiar kind of satisfying. I clocked out, nodding to the guys as I headed to my truck. The sun was setting now, casting the sky in hues of orange and pink, and I couldn’t help but smile as I climbed into the cab.
Tomorrow would be another day, another grind. But as long as it meant I could keep giving Lucinda the life she deserved, I’d do it a hundred times over.
—
The house was quiet when I walked through the door, the kind of quiet that made me pause and listen for signs of life. Normally, I’d hear Lucinda’s music blaring from her room or the TV playing some teenage drama in the living room. Instead, there was a faint clatter of dishes coming from the kitchen.
“Luce?” I called, setting my tool bag by the door and kicking off my boots.
“In here, Daddy!” her voice rang out.
I followed the sound and stopped in the doorway of the kitchen, my eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Lucinda stood at the stove, stirring a pot of macaroni and cheese. A plate of sausage links sat on the counter next to her, still steaming.
“What’s all this?” I asked, crossing my arms and leaning against the doorframe.
She turned and gave me a sheepish smile. “Dinner. Thought I’d try cooking for once.”
“Well, I’ll be,” I said, a grin tugging at the corners of my mouth. “You’re full of surprises, kiddo.”
“It’s nothing fancy,” she said, scooping the macaroni into two bowls and adding a sausage link to each. “But I figured you’d be hungry after work.”
“Mac and cheese and sausage sounds like a feast to me,” I replied, taking a seat at the table.
She set the bowls down and joined me, folding her hands in her lap as if she was trying to work up the courage to say something. I didn’t rush her, digging into the food instead. It was simple, but it tasted good—better than anything I’d expected to come home to.
“This is great, Luce,” I said between bites. “Thanks for doing this.”
She didn’t respond right away, her fork idly pushing noodles around her bowl. Finally, she looked up, her dark eyes meeting mine.
“Dad, I made dinner because… I kinda got into trouble at school today,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
I set my fork down, my stomach tightening. “What happened?”
“There’s this girl, Emma,” she began, her tone bitter. “She’s always running her mouth, but today… she said something about Mom. Said it was probably my fault she’s gone.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. My jaw tightened as I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. “What did you do?”
Lucinda looked down at her lap. “I… might’ve shoved her. Hard. And told her to shut up before I made her.”
“Lucinda,” I said, my voice low but firm. “You can’t go around starting fights, no matter what someone says.”
“She started it!” she shot back, her head snapping up. “She doesn’t get to talk about Mom like that!”
“I know it hurts,” I said, leaning forward. “But fighting isn’t the answer. You’ve got to let it roll off your shoulders or report it to the principal. Getting into trouble isn’t going to bring your mom back or make the pain go away.”
Her eyes filled with tears, and her voice cracked as she said, “You don’t get it, Dad. You don’t know what it’s like to hear people say things like that.”
“I do get it,” I said softly, reaching across the table to take her hand. “I miss her every day, Lucinda. But you’ve got to be stronger than this. You’re better than this.”
She pulled her hand away, her face set in a scowl. “Whatever. Maybe you just don’t care as much as I do.”
Her words stung, but I kept my voice steady. “Watch your tone. I care more than you’ll ever know, but I’m not going to let you use her memory as an excuse to lose control.”
Lucinda glared at me for a moment before pushing her chair back and crossing her arms. “Fine. Can I go now?”
“Finish your dinner,” I said, my tone firm.
She ate in silence, her jaw tight with defiance. When her plate was empty, I pointed toward the stairs. “Go to your room. We’ll talk more when you’ve had time to cool off.”
She stood, muttering something under her breath as she stomped up the stairs. I let out a long sigh, running a hand through my hair as the sound of her door slamming echoed through the house.
Leaning back in my chair, I stared at the empty table, the weight of the day pressing down on me. I hated being tough on her, but she needed to learn. The world wasn’t going to cut her any slack, and it was my job to make sure she could handle it.
Still, as much as I knew it was the right thing to do, it didn’t make it any easier.
—
The house was quiet again, the kind of stillness that settled deep into the bones. I walked down the hall, my footsteps light against the hardwood floor. The soft glow of Lucinda’s nightlight spilled into the hallway through the cracked door, and I paused for a moment, resting my hand on the doorframe.
Pushing the door open gently, I stepped inside. Lucinda was curled up under her blankets, her dark hair fanned out on the pillow. Her chest rose and fell steadily, her face peaceful in sleep. She looked so much like her mother it made my heart ache.
I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms as I watched her. She was fourteen now, a young woman in so many ways, but when she slept, she still looked like my little girl—the one who used to fall asleep clutching her teddy bear, her face smeared with the remnants of chocolate ice cream.
Today had been hard. Hell, this year had been hard. Raising a teenager wasn’t something you could train for. There were no manuals or guidebooks for how to handle the kind of pain she carried, the kind of pain that no child should ever have to bear.
What am I supposed to do? I thought, running a hand through my hair. How do I make it better?
I replayed the argument from dinner in my mind, dissecting every word, every glance. She was hurting, and I’d just made her angrier. Maybe I’d been too harsh. Maybe I should’ve told her she did the right thing standing up for herself. But violence—no. That wasn’t the answer, and she needed to understand that.
Still, I couldn’t help but feel like I’d failed her somehow. I couldn’t stop Emma or the others like her from being cruel, and I couldn’t erase the loss that had shaped so much of her life.
What can I do? I thought, the question twisting like a knife in my gut. How do I make her see how strong she is? How do I help her carry the weight of losing her mom?
My eyes lingered on her face, soft and serene in the dim light. The tension that had hardened her features earlier was gone now, replaced by the innocence that only sleep could bring.
I stepped closer, kneeling beside her bed. For a moment, I just looked at her, taking in every detail—the curve of her cheek, the way her eyelashes brushed her skin, the tiny freckle near her temple. She was my whole world, my reason for everything.
Reaching out, I smoothed back a strand of her hair, my fingers lingering for just a moment. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake.
Leaning down, I pressed a soft kiss to her temple, my lips barely brushing her skin. “Sleep well, Luce,” I whispered, my voice low and steady. “Daddy loves you more than anything.”
I straightened and pulled the blanket up over her shoulder, tucking it around her the way I used to when she was small. For a moment longer, I stayed there, just watching her breathe, my heart heavy with love and worry.
Then I turned and slipped out of the room, closing the door quietly behind me. As I walked back down the hall, the questions still lingered in my mind, but one thing was certain: whatever it took, I’d find a way to make things better for her. She deserved nothing less.
—
The smell of coffee and scrambled eggs filled the kitchen as I plated breakfast for two. The quiet was heavier this morning, stretched taut like a rubber band ready to snap. I glanced at the clock—plenty of time to eat before we had to leave.
Lucinda was already seated at the table when I set her plate down. Her hair hung loose around her face, shielding her expression. She didn’t look up, just picked at the eggs with her fork, nudging them around like she was trying to solve a puzzle.
I took my seat across from her, watching her for a moment before breaking the silence. “Morning, Luce. Sleep okay?”
No answer.
I tried again, keeping my tone light. “Eggs and toast. Classic. Just missing the bacon, but hey, I’ll do better tomorrow.”
Still nothing.
I sighed and picked up my coffee, letting the warmth seep into my hands. Her silence wasn’t unusual after a rough day, but it still stung. I wanted to say something to make it better, but I didn’t know how.
After a few minutes, she finally spoke, her voice quiet and clipped. “I wish we lived close enough to school that I could walk.”
I set my mug down, her words cutting sharper than they should’ve. “It’s not exactly a short walk,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “Besides, I like taking you. Gives us a few extra minutes together.”
She didn’t respond, just took a small bite of toast and stared out the window. The conversation, if you could call it that, was over.
When breakfast was finished, I grabbed my keys and her backpack. “Let’s go, Luce. Don’t want to be late.”
She got up without a word, slipping her shoes on by the door. The walk to the car was as silent as breakfast had been. She climbed in and stared out the passenger window, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
I knew what was wrong, why she was giving me the cold shoulder. I wanted to ask her what was wrong anyway, to dig deeper, but I didn’t want to push her. Not yet.
The drive to school was quiet, the kind of quiet that buzzed in your ears. I turned on the radio to fill the space, but even that felt hollow. When we pulled into the school parking lot, I glanced over at her.
“Luce, I—”
She didn’t wait for me to finish. Grabbing her bag, she opened the door and stepped out. I watched as she slung the backpack over one shoulder and started toward the building without a glance back.
“Lucinda!” I called out, leaning across the passenger seat.
She paused just long enough to half-turn, not quite looking at me.
“Daddy loves you very much, darlin’,” I said, my voice steady despite the lump in my throat.
She didn’t respond. She just turned back around and kept walking, her head down and her steps quick.
I sat there for a moment, watching her until she disappeared into the crowd of students filing through the doors. The ache in my chest was a familiar one, but it felt heavier today.
With a deep breath, I pulled out of the parking lot and headed to work. The silence she left behind stayed with me, a reminder that no matter how much I loved her, some walls were harder to break through than others.
—
The lunchroom buzzed with noise as students filled tables, their voices blending into a steady roar. Lucinda sat alone at the far edge of the room, picking at her sandwich. She didn’t mind being alone. Most of the time, it was easier.
But Emma Langley had other plans.
“Hey, orphan,” Emma said as she sauntered over, a smirk plastered on her face. Her posse of two other girls trailed behind her, giggling.
Lucinda stiffened, her hands curling into fists beneath the table. She stared straight ahead, willing Emma to lose interest and go away.
“Still not talking, huh?” Emma said, leaning on the table. “What’s wrong? Too busy thinking about how your mom didn’t love you enough to stick around?”
The words hit like a slap, and Lucinda’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the edge of the table.
“Oh, come on,” Emma continued, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. “It’s not your fault, I guess. Some people just aren’t cut out to be parents.”
Lucinda snapped.
Her chair screeched against the tile floor as she stood, her heart pounding in her chest. “Shut up, Emma,” she said, her voice trembling with anger.
Emma laughed, a cruel, high-pitched sound. “What are you gonna do? Cry about it?”
The next thing Lucinda knew, her fist connected with Emma’s face. There was a sharp crack, followed by a collective gasp from the surrounding tables.
Emma stumbled back, clutching her nose as blood trickled between her fingers. “You psycho!” she shrieked.
The cafeteria monitors rushed over, separating the two girls. Lucinda’s hands shook as they led her to the principal’s office, Emma sobbing and yelling the whole way.
—
Mike was elbow-deep in grease, tightening a bolt on a hydraulic press when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He wiped his hands on a rag and pulled it out, frowning when he saw the school’s number on the screen.
“This is Mike Falcone,” he said, his voice gruff.
“Mr. Falcone, this is Principal Harris,” came the reply. “We need you to come to the school immediately. There’s been an incident involving Lucinda.”
Mike’s stomach sank. “What kind of incident?”
“Lucinda was involved in a physical altercation with another student,” Principal Harris said. “Both girls are in my office now. We’ll explain everything when you get here.”
Mike sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
He hung up and shoved the phone back into his pocket, already peeling off his work gloves. He didn’t need the details yet. All he knew was that his little girl needed him, and that was enough to make him drop everything.
—
The truck’s engine roared as I pulled into the school parking lot, tires crunching against the asphalt. My heart pounded in my chest as I parked and hurried inside, my boots echoing in the empty hallways. The weight of worry settled in my gut.
When I reached the principal’s office, the scene hit me like a punch to the gut.
Lucinda sat in one of the chairs, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her face was flushed, her jaw set in anger, but her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. Across from her was Emma, dabbing at her bloody nose with a crumpled cloth. Beside her stood a woman in a tailored blazer—Emma’s mom, no doubt—arms folded and glaring daggers at Lucinda.
When her eyes shifted to me, they narrowed. “You need to control your daughter,” she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut glass.
I ignored her, walking straight to Lucinda. I crouched down, meeting her eyes. “You okay, darlin’?” I asked softly.
She nodded but didn’t speak.
“Mr. Falcone,” Principal Harris said from behind his desk, gesturing to an empty chair. “Please, have a seat.”
I stood, taking the seat beside Lucinda. Emma’s mom sat down as well, but her glare never wavered.
Principal Harris folded his hands on the desk and cleared his throat. “There was an altercation during lunch today. Emma made some inappropriate remarks about Lucinda’s family, and Lucinda responded by striking her in the face.”
“She *punched* my daughter,” Emma’s mom interrupted, her voice rising. “That’s not ‘responding.’ That’s assault.”
I shot her a look but kept my voice even. “And what exactly did your daughter say to mine?”
Principal Harris held up a hand. “Mrs. Langley, Mr. Falcone, please. Let’s keep this civil.”
He turned his attention to me. “Lucinda has admitted to throwing the first punch, but Emma’s comments were cruel and deeply personal. However, physical violence is not an acceptable response.”
I nodded slowly, my jaw tightening. “I understand that.”
“Both girls will face disciplinary action,” Harris continued. “Lucinda will have a one-day suspension, and Emma will serve detention for her behavior. I hope this will be a lesson to both of them.”
Mrs. Langley scoffed. “A suspension? That’s it?”
“That’s enough,” I said, my voice firm. “Lucinda will face consequences at home, too.”
Mrs. Langley opened her mouth to argue, but Harris cut her off. “This meeting is over. Mrs. Langley, Mr. Falcone, thank you for coming in. You’re free to take your daughters home.”
I stood and placed a hand on Lucinda’s shoulder. “Come on, Luce. Let’s go.”
She grabbed her backpack and followed me out without a word.
—
The ride home was silent. I glanced at her a few times, but her gaze stayed fixed on the window, her fingers gripping the straps of her bag.
When we pulled into the driveway, I parked the truck and turned off the engine. Before I could say anything, Lucinda unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned into me, wrapping her arms around my chest.
“Daddy, I’m sorry,” she choked out, her voice breaking.
Tears spilled from her eyes as she buried her face in my shirt. I held her close, one hand smoothing her hair as the other rested on her back.
“It’s okay, darlin’,” I whispered, my own voice thick. “I’ve got you.”
She sobbed into my chest, her body trembling with the weight of everything she’d been holding in. I held her tighter, wishing I could take away all her pain.
“We’ll figure it out,” I said softly. “We’ll get through this, Luce. I promise.”
For now, that was all I could give her. And for now, it was enough.
—
The living room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the table lamp casting long shadows on the walls. Lucinda sat curled up on the couch, her knees pulled to her chest, silent except for the occasional sniffle. I lowered myself beside her, pulling her gently into my arms. She didn’t resist.
“Let it all out, darlin’,” I murmured, stroking her hair. “I’m here.”
The dam broke, and she began to sob, her face buried against my chest. Her small frame shook as years of pain, anger, and confusion poured out. I held her tight, my hand smoothing her back in slow circles, offering comfort the only way I knew how.
“It’s not fair,” she choked out after a while. Her voice was hoarse, her breaths uneven. “She said awful things, Daddy. She… she talked about Mom.”
Her words cut through me like a knife. I swallowed the lump in my throat, keeping my voice steady. “What did she say?”
Lucinda pulled back slightly, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her shirt. “She said Mom didn’t love me enough to stay. That’s why she’s gone. That I must’ve done something wrong to make her leave.”
I clenched my jaw, the familiar fire of anger rising in my chest. But I pushed it down. This wasn’t about me.
“Emma’s wrong, Luce,” I said firmly. “She doesn’t know a damn thing about your mom. Your mom loved you more than anything in this world. And what happened to her–it wasn’t anyone’s fault.”
Lucinda sniffled, her lip trembling. “I just… I got so mad. I didn’t know what else to do.”
Her eyes met mine, pleading for understanding. “I know I shouldn’t fight, Daddy. But… isn’t that what you do? Or used to do?”
Her words hit hard, and for a moment, I couldn’t speak. She wasn’t wrong. My past was filled with fights—brutal ones, too. But that wasn’t who I was anymore.
I took a deep breath, cupping her face gently in my hands. “Listen to me, Luce. Yes, I used to fight. But that was a long time ago, back when I didn’t know any better. I’ve learned since then. I’ve learned to pick my battles. And most of the time, it’s not worth it to use your fists.”
She frowned, confusion flickering in her eyes. “But you still would. If you had to.”
I nodded slowly. “If I had to protect you? You bet I would. Without a second thought. But fighting doesn’t fix things, sweetheart. It just makes things worse most of the time. And you’re better than that. You’re stronger than that.”
Her tears welled up again, and she leaned into me. “I just want it to stop,” she whispered.
I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight. “I know, baby. I know. We’ll figure it out together, okay? You’re not alone in this.”
She clung to me, her breathing slowing as she started to calm down. I pressed a kiss to her temple, letting my lips linger there for a moment.
“I love you, Lucinda,” I said softly. “More than anything in this world. Don’t ever forget that.”
“I love you too, Daddy,” she whispered, her voice small but steady.
I held her close, my heart heavy yet full. Whatever came next, we’d face it together.
—
A couple weeks later…
The sun had just begun to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink as I adjusted the collar of my shirt in the mirror. I wasn’t much for fancy clothes, but tonight was special. Lucinda and I needed this—a night out, just the two of us.
“Luce, you ready?” I called up the stairs.
“Almost!” she shouted back.
A few minutes later, she appeared at the top of the staircase, wearing a simple but elegant dress in her favorite shade of blue. Her dark hair was neatly brushed, and there was a light touch of lip gloss on her lips. She looked beautiful.
“Wow, darlin’,” I said with a smile. “You look amazing.”
She rolled her eyes, but I caught the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “It’s just a dress, Daddy.”
“It’s not just the dress,” I said. “You’re growing up into a fine young lady. Now, come on, or we’ll be late.”
—
We ended up at one of the nicer restaurants in town. The kind with tablecloths and candles—not exactly my usual spot, but it felt right for the occasion.
Lucinda studied the menu with a furrowed brow, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. “What’s so funny?” she asked.
“You,” I said. “You look like you’re trying to solve a math problem.”
“Well, excuse me for not knowing the difference between all these pastas,” she shot back, but her tone was playful.
We eventually settled on sharing a plate of fettuccine Alfredo and a side of garlic bread. As we waited for our food, I leaned back in my chair, watching her.
“So,” I said, “how’s school been since… everything?”
She shrugged, poking at her water glass with her straw. “It’s been better. Emma’s been leaving me alone.”
“That’s good,” I said. “And you? You been holding up okay?”
She hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. I think so. Thanks for… y’know, talking to me. It helped.”
Hearing that made my chest swell with a quiet pride. “Anytime, Luce. That’s what I’m here for.”
When our food arrived, the mood lightened even more. We joked about how I managed to get Alfredo sauce on my shirt and debated whether or not dessert was worth the wait. Lucinda was laughing by the end of it, and it was the best sound I’d heard in weeks.
—
After dinner, we headed to the movie theater. Lucinda had picked the movie—some action-adventure flick that had a little bit of everything. I wasn’t much for explosions and CGI, but seeing her light up during the big battle scenes made it worth every second.
When the credits rolled, we walked out into the cool night air, her hand slipping into mine. It was a rare gesture these days, and I didn’t take it for granted.
“Did you like the movie?” I asked.
“It was awesome,” she said, her eyes still sparkling. “Thanks for taking me, Daddy.”
“Anytime, darlin’,” I said, giving her hand a squeeze.
—
The drive home was quiet, but it wasn’t the uncomfortable kind. It was the kind where words weren’t necessary, where the connection between us felt stronger than it had in a long time.
When we pulled into the driveway, Lucinda turned to me with a small smile. “Tonight was really nice. I had fun.”
“Me too,” I said. “We should do this more often.”
She nodded, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there was no distance, no tension. Just us.
As we walked into the house, I placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Luce,” I said. “You’re doing good, and I see it. Keep it up, okay?”
Her smile widened, and she hugged me tightly. “Thanks, Daddy. I love you!”
“I love you too, darlin’,” I said, holding her close.
And for that moment, everything felt right in our little corner of the world.
—
The house was quiet, the kind of silence that settled in after a long, full day. I sat on the couch for a while after Lucinda went to bed, flipping through channels, though I wasn’t really watching anything. My mind was elsewhere, replaying the sound of her laughter at dinner and the way she had leaned into me during the movie. For the first time in a while, things felt… good.
But as the clock ticked past midnight, something pulled me upstairs. Call it instinct, or maybe just the quiet worry that never seemed to leave me when it came to her. I moved silently down the hall and peeked into her room.
She was tangled in the covers, her body restless, her face twisted in a grimace. My chest tightened as I realized she wasn’t just shifting in her sleep—she was having a bad fit, her legs kicking slightly, her hands clenching at the sheets.
“Luce,” I whispered, stepping into the room. “Lucinda, it’s okay, baby. Daddy’s here.”
Her breathing hitched, and a soft whimper escaped her lips. Whatever dream she was trapped in had her firmly in its grip. Without a second thought, I slipped off my boots and slid into bed beside her.
“Shh,” I murmured, wrapping my arms around her. She stiffened at first, her body rigid against mine, but I held her close, my hand smoothing over her hair. “It’s okay, darlin’. I’ve got you. Everything’s gonna be fine.”
I kept whispering to her, my voice low and steady, the way I used to when she was little and scared of thunderstorms. “Daddy’s here. You’re safe. Whatever it is, it can’t hurt you. I promise.”
Slowly, her breathing evened out. The tension in her body melted away, and she nestled into me, her face resting against my chest. I kept holding her, my chin resting on the top of her head, and the steady rhythm of her breaths eventually lulled me, too.
—
During the night I had a dream. It began simple enough, any normal dream. My wife Amanda, myself, and Luce–who was only 5 at the time. It was a beautiful Saturday morning in June, and we had decided to go hang out at the local park where we bought some ice cream and sat at the duck pond.
After she finished her ice cream, Luce decided to splash around at the edge of the pond and try to make friends with the ducks that inadvertently swam a little too close.
Amanda leaned into my side and stretched her neck up to kiss my cheek as we watched Luce play around. All was right in the world. I was with the two most beautiful girls in the world whom I lived now than anything.
Suddenly, my wife reached down, unzipped my pants, and pulled my cock out, right in front of our daughter and the entire world. I looked into her gleaming eyes, seemingly about to question her decision to this in public, but nothing came out. My eyes closed as her hand moved up and down.
I moaned at the intense sensation, the thrill of being out in public and the chance of getting caught–not only by anyone who happened to notice, but by our daughter as well. Deep down, I had to admit, it was a thrill thinking my little Luce might catch Mommy and Daddy having a little fun, and the conversation that would come out of this.
“Oh, Amanda, what’s gotten into you?” I asked. Suddenly I felt her lips wrapping around the engorged head of my cock and sliding down almost tentatively. But it felt different, somehow. Her mouth almost tighter than I remembered.
I awoke from my dream with a start and looked down to see Lucinda stroking me and trying her best to fit me all in her mouth. God, she felt good, but I needed to put an end to this. I was her father.
I scooted back and pushed her head away from, and she looked at me with shock in her eyes, possibly that she’d been discovered. She quickly looked away, but not before I noticed tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.
“Luce, baby, this is… this is wrong,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “Honey, look at me. Let’s talk about this.”
She shook her head, not saying anything as her cheat heaved with quiet sobs. I reached out and gently touched her back, and surprisingly she didn’t pull away. I swallowed the lump in my throat, only just realizing my cock was still out, and throbbing.
“Lucinda, darlin’, will you please talk to me?” My touch on her back was light and reassuring. “Tell me what’s going through your head. Why…?” I couldn’t finish the question. Was I really wondering? Or did I just want to hear her tell me that she wanted me?
“Baby girl, daddy loves you. You know that, right?” I asked her in a whisper as my hand began to slowly rub her back. This is wrong, I thought to myself. But… perhaps it’s not so bad. The more I thought about it, the more my cock was throbbing.
“I’m sorry, daddy,” she said between sobs. “I woke up and, you were pressing against me, and I just wanted to see why mom liked it so much.”
That was it. She had seen her mother and me many times when she was little. Accidentally, I used to like to believe. But perhaps now I was thinking that it may have excited me knowing she was watching and learning.
“Oh, darlin’,” I whispered. “It’s ok.” I couldn’t believe it was coming out of my mouth. “What did you think?”
Her head snapped around to look at me, a look of confusion on her face. “I-it was… ok. A little warm.” She glanced down at her hand and touched her lips with her fingertips.
“And the taste?” I asked, interested to know what she really thought. “It’s ok. I want you to be honest with me, sweetheart.”
She blushed, biting her lower lip and glancing up into my eyes. “It didn’t have much of a taste, daddy. But it felt… nice.” She shifted her body to face me, and I could see her hard nipples straining against her shirt.
“Did it turn you on?” I asked, staring quite obviously at her breasts.
She giggled. “Umm…a little.” Her eyes returned to my cock and I situated myself so it was more on display for her. Her eyes got wide and she licked her lips.
“Go on, baby girl. Try it again,” I said, my voice husky with desire. She shot me another glance, her breath catching in her throat, but she said nothing as she reached out and wrapped her fingers around my cock.
My little girl was touching me, and I was allowing it. “That’s it, baby. That feels good.” Her hand started slowly pumping up and down my shaft.
She leaned down then, her face drawing closer to the tip of my cock, her breathing getting faster. “It’s ok, baby,” I encouraged her. “Do what feels right.” She looked up into my eyes, then back down as she slipped me back into her mouth. My eyes closed as her tongue swirled around my tip. “Oh God, Luce, keep going, darlin’.”
Feeling emboldened, Lucinda forced her mouth further down on my cock, little by little, until I was hitting the back of her throat. My God, she was amazing.
Lucinda moaned and began moving her head up and down, the wet sounds of my cock slipping in and out of her throat adding to the symphony of sounds she was making. Instinctively her other hand moved to my balls, gently teasing and rolling them around. Holy fuck, my little girl was driving me really close to the edge. “Baby, get up here,” I whispered.
She pulled her mouth off of my cock and word spit from her lips as she looked up at me. “Yeah, daddy?” She asked as she leaned up toward me. I grabbed her and pulled her face to mine, softly kissing her lips, my tongue tentatively probing her lips for entrance as she wrapped her arms around my neck. Her lips parted, granting me access as my tongue pressed against hers. She moaned into my mouth as her body pressed against mine.
I could feel her hard nipples pressing against me through our shirts and I slipped my hand up her body beneath her shirt, craving her warm flesh. Her tender young skin beneath my hands caused my flesh to tingle, and I could feel goosebumps on her body.
She pressed even further into my touch as my hands slid up to her breasts. I pulled back from the kiss then for two reasons: one, to look into her eyes and whisper “Daddy loves you more than anything”, and two, do my hands could have access to her perfect breasts and nipples.
She looked back into my eyes and a gasp escaped her lips as my thumbs flicked across her nipples. “I love you…” a high pitch squeak, and then she continued, “too, daddy.” She bit her lip and her head fell back as he eyes closed. I was now serving pleasurable tingles throughout my little girl’s body, and I felt like the only man in the world at that moment. My little girl.
I slipped my hand higher, causing her to react as I began to remove her shirt. She lifted her arms as I pulled out over her head and tossed aside. She looked at me, her face a bit flushed, but her eyes showing excitement. “Not fair, daddy. I’m completely naked and you’re not.”
It was true. To my surprise, my sweet Lucinda hadn’t worn any panties to bed. I grinned as I stood up and let her remove every article of clothing from my body. We were now stark naked together, daddy and daughter. I got back on the bed and she shoved me onto my back.
“Now I’m gonna try the other things mom used to do, daddy,” she said as she lifted a leg and positioned her bald little pussy over my cock. My God, she was sexy. Even more than her mother. I grabbed her hips and she took ahold of my cock as she slowly lowered herself onto me.
At first, just the tip could make any progress, and even that took a bit of work. She finally managed to slip me inside her and winced as I got stuck trying to go any further. I could see a hint of pain on her face, but she tried masking it.
“Baby, we can always do this another time, after we’ve stretched you a little bit.”
She shook her head vigorously as she pressed down on me. With an intense plunge into her, she finally got me inside. She covered her mouth with both hands as she tried not to scream and sank down all the way. I froze, not wanting to move and cause her anymore pain, and I knew in that moment, I’d also broken through her hymen. I desperately wanted to pull her into a hug, but if I had moved at all it would have hurt her more. The best thing I could do is stay still in that moment.
“You’re doing so good, darlin’,” I encouraged her. “Just take your time. The pain will pass soon enough.”
We sat that way for a couple minutes as she caught her breath and the pain subsided. Then she pressed her palms to my chest and began to slowly grind against me, her clit pressing against my pelvis.
We locked eyes as she rode me, my cock moving about inside her tight little cunt. My hands on her hips, I helped her grind back and forth and slide up and down. She started moaning, her eyes glossing over, half-lidded. In that moment, I fell in love with my daughter.
For several minutes she rocked and lifted and slammed back down, her breathing getting heavier. It wasn’t long until she laid down on top of me and kissed me with more passion, it seemed, than even her mother had.
I wrapped her in my arms and rolled over until I was on top. Her legs wrapped around my waist, leglocking me in place as I rammed into her. Her hands roamed my muscular chest as if trying to commit every inch of my body to her memory.
I leaned down then, my mouth seeking out her left nipple, my teeth scraping against it as my tongue flicked back and forth. She arched her back, moaning loudly, “Oh fuck, daddy!” She said in her beautiful whispered voice. God, she was driving me wild. How had I waited so long for this?
I switched back and forth between nipples, tasting, teasing, making her squirm beneath me. Let me tell you, fucking your own little girl is unlike anything in the world. I was in heaven, and nothing was going to bring me down.
“”Daddy, oh fuck, yes! God, daddy, I’m gonna cum! Oh fuck, daddy!” Music to my ears. I continued to pound away at her, becoming relentless in the pursuit of our release.
She needed this.
I needed this.
I laid down on top of her, my elbows resting on her bed next to her shoulders, breathing hard as my cock pummeled her tight little pussy.” I began throbbing inside her, her walls clenching around me at the same time. I could feel her impending release, and it turned me on to no end.
“I’m gonna cum, baby girl!” I said.
Her hands gripped my shoulders from behind. “Fuck, daddy, me too!”
And as my body went stiff, my cock pressing into her womb, we both released at the same time. My cum filled her womb, previously untouched, as her love juices drenched my cock.
“Fuck, oh fuck,” we both shouted as we came hard! Long, thick ropes of my cum splashes against her walls, painting her insides white. She, too, came very hard and strong, and when we were both finished, I pulled out of her, lying down next to her as cum leaked out of her little pussy.
She turned to me and grabbed my face, kissing me tenderly. “You are the best daddy ever!”
I smiled, lightly brushing my fingertips against her cheek. “You are the best daughter a daddy could have!” She giggled and turned over, her back against me. I wrapped an arm around her, holding her close, spooning my naked little girl.
“Goodnight, daddy,” she whispered.
“Goodnight, baby girl,” I said, brushing her hair away from her shoulder and giving it a tender kiss. “Daddy loves you, darlin’.”
There was no response. She was fast asleep. I smiled, closing my eyes and drifted off to sleep next to her.
—
When I woke, the room was bathed in the soft gray light of early morning. For a moment, I didn’t know where I was, but then I felt her small hand around my waist, one leg tossed over me, her head tucked beneath my chin again.
I stayed there for a few more minutes, not wanting to disturb her. The world could wait. Right now, all that mattered was the girl in my arms and the peace on her face as she slept.
“Everything’s gonna be okay, Luce,” I whispered again, even though she couldn’t hear me.
And in that quiet moment, I believed it. For both of us.
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