this concentrates on Harris and his daughter. more questions than answers, and the answers will be given in part 3. if you haven't read part one, please do so first.
(Sorry it took so long, but every once in awhile, I have to reenter the non sexual world. It’s boring as hell.)
IF YOU HAVEN’T READ PART ONE, DO SO FIRST PLEASE. if you have read part one, this picks up from the prelude. it is quite a bit longer, and there are questions i haven’t answered yet. wait for part three… i promise i won’t take a year this time!
THIS STORY CONTAINS INTERRACIAL, YOUNG, AND SOME BDSM. IF YOU DON’T LIKE IT, DON’T FUCKING READ IT. NOBODY WANTS TO HEAR YOUR PISSING AND MOANING. Thank you- B.K.
The Belonging, Part 2: Harris and Akira
Akira had woken, quietly, as she had been trained, and her huge eyes, an amazing hazel so pure they shone gold, were on her beloved Daddy. Her master. He was sitting in a chair by her bed, and despite the fact that she was tightly handcuffed by both wrists, sweat pouring over her nude caramel skin, with a vibrating egg lodged firmly inside her, relentless in its pulsing, she was overcome with happiness. She understood she was only a toy, a living sex doll, that her daddy and mommy had made only to serve their appetites. As Akira had lived no other way in her six years of life, she did not find this disturbing, and would, in fact, have found it strange that not every little girl awoke craving the feel of her father’s cock inside her, or went to sleep with his seed warming her belly or dripping from her insides.
School was just beginning, kindergarten, and though she loved her school time, she was never happy away from Harris. He had been careful to warn her not to reveal anything. With her friends, she said nothing, because little girls, Harris told her sternly, were never ever to talk about pleasing their daddies without their daddies permission. To do so would be to disobey; both girls would be punished beyond anything they had ever known for such disobedience, and after, be sent away. They would never see their daddies, or anyone they knew, ever again. She really only had one friend anyway, Matalyn, a pretty girl with porceline white skin, shiny chestnut hair, and wide, pure, aqua green eyes. Matalyn was her best friend, always funny, always bringing extra cupcakes in her lunch to share with Akira; and Akira didn’t want to make Matalyn’s daddy send her away anymore than she wanted to be sent away herself.
Harris had explained that her teacher, Mr. Byers, did not have a sexy little girl at home to play with, and would be jealous, and try to take her from him- and, if this happened, she again would never be with her daddy anymore. The thought of permanent separation was unbearable for her, so Akira was careful never to let anyone know about her secondary education- the ways in which a baby slut could please her Daddy/Master. She learned to suck his cock from birth, with Harris placing the head of it in her tiny mouth like a pacifier, allowing her to slurp until she fell asleep. This had started when she was six months old, and he had less worry about her fresh infant mouth being so easily sickened by foreign objects. He was careful and cleaned himself well before laying her across his knees, cradling her on her tummy, head turned, and sliding the head gently in and out while bouncing her to sleep. Her mouth was a joy even then, so tight and barely accomodating, her soft gums massaging him. Harris would moan softly, his knees bouncing slowly and easily, the suckling speeding or slacking as she drifted off. During these times he would put a single finger between her pudgy bowed legs, touching her tiny, hidden pussy, massaging the lips and exploring unbelievable softness. At times he wold caress her soft, tender ass, open it. His finger would probe wonderingly at the impossibly small hole, never going inside, only touching it longingly. His fingers would spread her open and look at the wonderous contrast of pale brown lips and bright pink hole, or the pinprick of darkness that was her ass hole, and, imagining the pleasure he would get from it, or the sweetness he had tasted from the day he brought her home, he would cum uncontrollably. Sometimes he set his knees flat to assure he wouldn’t drown the infant in his juices, other times he’d allow it to flow freely. She wouldn’t get sick. Akira had been drinking his cum, small amounts mixed with her formula, from the beginning. The amount had increased slowly until Akira could drink from his cock directly without spitting up.
He took her virgin cunt much earlier than intended, but Akira was an exceptionally beautiful and beguiling child, and he wasn’t able to wait. She had been three years old then, tottering about the house in nothing, save the occasional underwear, and would touch herself with abandon whenever she had the urge. Harris would soon stop her doing that- he didn’t want her squatting in grocery stores unexpectedly and reaching under her little dresses, rubbing at her young mound until she was raw or tired as she did at home. He also wanted her to understand that her cunt could only be pleasured at his whim, and never her own. But she was young yet, a baby, and this would come in time. For that moment, though, he was perfectly content to watch her sitting on the couch with her cartoons, legs wide open, fingers working absently at her tiny clit, into her little cunt hole, which he had begun fingering a year prior, or just rubbing her puffy little cunt feverishly. When she sat on his lap, she’d grind on his knee, her hand reaching back to grasp his dick and feel it grow hard, then turn around wordlessly and clutch it with both hands, up and down, until he came, and she would suck greedily at his cum.
When facing him, she’d sit close, her knees at his sides, her pussy slightly slick with the delightful sort of wetness that was excitement and drops of pee, and push to and fro against his hardness, which would be prostrate against his belly. Akira’s small, serpentine tongue would dart around in his mouth as she kissed him the way she’d been taught, her arms wrapped around his neck. The friction built to a fever pitch, she would moan and whine in his ear, “Daddy… Daddy… Please…” and his hands would clutch her tiny body, one taking a firm hold of his daughter’s soft tan ass, the other at her chest, pinching and teasing the tiny brown nipples, rubbing the round little belly. He held himself until she let out a gutteral cry that incensed him, and let him know she had reached her child orgasm, and then he would cum, erupting straight up due to the position of his cock. She would find it, wherever it landed, and massage it into her skin, making it glow. If by any chance his cum landed on the floor, she would seek it, on hands and knees, and lick it up immediately. Daddy juice was never wasted, and to miss any would be not to get any for as long as he saw fit, Akira knew. She had no concept of sacred, but if she had, that is what she would have held her fathers cum to be. Because she’d fed on it from birth, she craved it, and could not sleep well until she had the taste of it, the thickness in her belly, at least once daily.
It had been during one of those encounters, with SpongeBob on the TV, Akira grinding away on his lap, when he had taken her. She was wrapped tight around him, arms at his neck, her panting and soft, “Daddy… please...” in his ear, driving him. Please what?, he thought suddenly. It had never stood out to him before, just words she knew and could say. But Akira had a wonderful vocabulary- Harris would lay naked next to her at night and read erotica aloud until she fell asleep, or while she suckled him from under the desk in his study he would read explicit stories to her from the internet. She knew how to ask for things. She knew to always say please, may I, thank you, to frame any requests. “Please what?” he asked softly, prying her away and looking into her face. Her eyes were still half closed and glazed, the way they always were when she was in a frenzy, so Harris grasped her and asked more firmly, “Please, what, Akira?”
She blinked in confusion and stammered, “I- Daddy- huh?”
He smiled a little, her beauty pleasing him as always, the flush turning her amber skin into a tawny glow. “You said, Daddy, please. What were you asking Daddy to do? It’s okay,” he added quickly, because she’d learned in small ways that she was for him, and that her wishes were only valid if they suited his. She was careful, then, in what she asked him.
“Don’t know.” She said softly, thumb in her mouth.
Harris smiled a little more. “My little slut. You feel so good when Daddy gives you cum, don’t you?”
“You like when Daddy lets you rub on him.”
“I know,” he nodded. “I make sure your little girl pussy feels good. And you make sure Daddy makes cock juice for you everyday, yes, you are a very good little slut. But Daddy thinks you need more, don’t you?”
Akira knew what more was. She was raised on the same movies that had begun all this, the movies he showed his Chelle the first time they met. This was before Chelle was unable to come to him, and sometimes would show up at his door, having escaped for a night or a weekend. She was as taken with her creation as he was, and would spend hours touching and kissing Akira softly, tasting her sweet baby nectar, allowing Akira to feed off her own dark chocolate cunt and lick at the breasts that never had a chance to nurse her. Harris would take Chelle, making love to his chocolate princess or fucking his black whore, while Akira watched, imitating her mothers movements against a pillow or rubbing away again. Chelle had talked to Akira whenever she could as soon as Akira was able to understand anything, and told her what was expected, what pretty little dolls like Akira born from sluts like herself were expected to do. Listening to them talk made Harris both proud and hard. Chelle was completely subjugated, his, and she would be able to teach Akira everything. Akira would be a perfect fucktoy under their combined tutelage.
And so Akira knew of and was waiting for the day Daddy would take her virgin cunt, claim her, as daddies have to do, Chelle had told her, in order for little girls to know how to please men. She was so pretty, so sexy, and she would tempt men all the time. They would want her, and it was Daddy’s job to show her how to please them, and her job to please Daddy in turn. After all, Daddy had made her, she had come from his big hard cock, and from her mother’s wet teen pussy, and her young cunt was theirs to have, wasn’t it? Didn’t she feel that way about her toys, when she dressed her Barbie and put her in her Dream Car, wasn’t, then, Barbie hers to play with however she wanted? Then, Akira herself was the same. “Mommy and Daddy’s sex doll, to please us. And just like Barbie has fun when you play with her, you will have fun when Daddy or I play with you,” Chelle said. It made sense to Akira. So she accepted that his cock, so huge to her young eyes, the thing she’d struggled to take even half of in a hole as big as her mouth, would someday be inside her the way it was inside her mommy, inside the girls in the movies, and the stories he read to her. When he fingered her, putting one finger in and then two, and pushed them, when he took them and pried her puffy little labia apart, he was slowly readying her for him. She didn’t know if an age had been set for when, but Daddy had said years.
Still, she knew.
And yet, at his question, “Daddy thinks you need more, don’t you?” she managed to look up at him with an almost hidden smile, an expression of perfect innocence, and say, “What’s more?”
Her gold eyes twinkled, she already knew how to play games, how to be seductive and still childlike. Harris’s cock throbbing in her hands, naked and flushed, she circled and ground her still wet pussy on his bare lap. “You know exactly what it is,” Harris laughed softly, reaching out and pinching her left nipple. It was poufy, brown, rounded. A small bit of baby fat in the chest gave her that cleavage of baby girls, soft, blunt mounds on the upper body, and his cock pulsed. She took a quick breath as he squeezed. “Don’t tease Daddy, Akira. You are mine. Teasing is for other men. Later.”
She lowered her head, but her eyes stayed on his. “I’m sorry, Daddy. “
He let go of her nipple and began caressing her labia, one finger runing up and down, pushing in a little each stroke. “Be still,” he commanded, and her grinding stopped. She mewled pitifully, frustrated, her young body craving like a grown woman’s. He smiled again. “Say it.”
“Daddy please…” she whispered, his hand finding her nipples again, this time his mouth on it, licking, nibbling, sucking the small nib. She moaned, a light sound, and squeezed his cock. It throbbed painfully in her tiny hands, and she pulled on it just then, sending a fire through Harris. He groaned quietly and squeezed the flesh of her bottom, her thigh. She was so soft… her glowing caramel skin yeilding under his white hand. She was his creation, his daughter, his slut. He would be the first to enter her, a fuckhole bred only for his pleasure; the cock that made her would be the cock that opened her. The thought thrilled him, and as she cooed, panted, and pushed her eager young pussy against his leg, he would not wait until she was seven or eight, as he had planned.
Harris stood, holding her, and took her to her bedroom. Akira’s coltish little legs wrapped around him as far as they could, and as he walked to the upstairs room, she continued to rub against him desperately, her smooth baby mound rubbing against his belly. “Daddy…” she crooned in her soft breathy voice, as he laid her on her Dora bedspread and stepped back. He turned around and clicked on the TV/DVD mounted to her wall, starting one of the porno videos he directed her to watch daily.
Harris turned back to Akira, approaching the bed. “Don’t touch,” he warned her as her hands automatically went for her fervent pussy. “Only Daddy after now. No more touching unless Daddy says so. Daddy will play with your horny little fuck hole when you deserve it or he wants it. From now on, no touching, or Daddy will be very mad. Do you understand, baby?”
“Yes,” she half spoke, half breathed, nodding and pulling her hands away.
“Good,” Harris said, speaking softer, climbing on the bed, “now open your legs big. That’s my girl.” Harris knelt between her spread legs, staring at her, his hands guiding hers to her baby tits. “Touch them, baby. Like Daddy does. They will be so nice when they start growing, that’s what happens when daddies give cock to their little girls. See how sexy she is,” he directed her attention to the writhing Russian teen on the monitor. “Her daddy fucked her all the time, and her body grew to be so sexy, her tits so soft. Yours will be too, baby, Daddy will make sure of it.”
She breathed harder, squeezing at them, thrusting her body up to him. He admired it, so small, soft, the ghosts of curves yet to be formed. Her pussy was a marvel, not yet developed, just two puffed caramel labia around a slit. Even with her legs as wide as they could go, her inside was hidden a bit, and after taking a deep inhale of her fresh baby scent, he opened her with his fingers and began to taste. Such sweetness, his daughter, a few months away from her fourth birthday. Her mixed blood gave her a taste he had known only from her holes. It was faint, a raw sugar taste, slightly sage, and he shivered as he wrapped his mouth around her and sucked gently. She began to moan louder, reciting words Chelle had taught her to say to excite and please him. “Lick, Daddy… Daddy, lick baby slut’s pussy… Please more… I love Daddy… Only for Daddy…” He began to suck a bit harder and then still harder, training her to feel pleasure with pain. She gasped loudly, her breath like a loud hiccup, and jerked. Harris released the suction on her cunt and used his tongue to lick it gently, the soft velvet of it against the roughness of his tongue, felt her little throb. His tongue pushed inside her, tasted her warmth, felt the strain of her walls. Tight even for his tongue. He almost came imagining what it would feel like for his dick.
He slid his finger inside her now and lifted his head. She moaned louder and wiggled against his hand. Akira’s eyes glazed again, her fingers pulling at her tiny nipples. Sliding his finger out, Harris came up her body and took her hands, placed them on his cock, kneeled over her face. She needed no direction; when Daddy’s cock was in front of her, she sucked. The head slid into her mouth, and he felt her swallow down the drops of precum that had beaded. He stared down, her thick little lips working the outside, her eyes closed. He wouldn’t stay this way for too long, though he enjoyed it, because this position was the forerunner of naptime for Akira. She still suckled the head until she fell asleep, as when she was an infant, but laying instead on her back, in bed, with Harris kneeled over her face, rather than laying on his lap. He allowed her to do this now only for a minute, murmuring softly, “Suck, baby, good girl. Daddy is going to open you. All of it is going in your baby cunt,” he added as her hands pumped the portion of the shaft she could not take.
Abruptly he withdrew himself, positioning her hands to open herself to him. He paused, a small tremor passing through him. Akira was gazing up at him, golden eyes wide with anticipation and fear. “It will hurt, baby. This time. Because you are so small, and Daddy is big. But you will learn to like it. Daddy will go slow.”
He pushed against her pussy, pressuring it to let him in. His cock throbbed in excitement, feeling the heat of her young hole, still moist from his mouth on her. He pushed again and felt a sort of pop as his fifty-two year old cock entered his three year old daughters virgin cunthole.
The sensation was incredible. She was so tight he felt his cock being strangled, her cunt moist, hotter than he had expected. Akira let out a strangled cry, the tears beginning. Harris groaned and pushed a little, not much, letting the head rest inside her unused pussy. “I know baby. You are daddy’s good girl, yes, Daddy’s cock hurts but my little slut can take it, can’t you, you don’t want Daddy to have to stop, do you?” he murmured. She shook her head no, but she was trembling hard, trying to get used to something filling her so completely. It was as if Daddy had put all five fingers inside her at once, and as she felt the warm fluid tickling the crack of her bottom, she undertood why Daddy had always said he would wait years before taking her. But she would never ask him to stop, never cry aloud, becase more than this hurt she wanted to be Daddy’s completely. She wanted to be like Mommy and all the little girls she saw on Daddy’s computer. They liked it, and smiled when their daddies put their cocks inside, and they were as little as she was or not much older. So she knew it must only hurt this one time, the first time, and she could do it. She could. She would. And so Akira, crying softly, closed her big gold eyes briefly- Daddy liked to see her eyes when she was being used- and thrust her aching little pussy up, forcing another inch of her Daddy inside her.
Harris’s eyes widened a little and he smiled dotingly down at her. “That’s my little whore. Want Daddy all inside you. Take it all.Daddy will fill your hot little cunt with cum. You feel so good, baby. Daddy will cum so much for you.”
She half moaned, half cried, while gasping and shuddering beneath him. So small. The long thick lashes framing her eyes were matted with wetness from tears. Harris slid a finger into her mouth, enjoyed the sucking. He pushed further inside her, feeling the indescribable sensation of moist heat and tight, fresh walls, resisting him, breaking under his hardness, the friction. Harris had three solid inches of throbbing hard cock inside. He paused for a moment, then began to pull out slowly, savoring the release of restriction before sliding back in, this time pushing a little further in. He knew he would hit the bottom with another thrust. The thought was a heady one for him, and he was torn between wanting to tear into her and not wanting to hurt her. So he only pushed a bit more, a little further, slowly, frustrated but savoring the feeling of opening a young cunt. When his head hit the barrier that was the bottom, he groaned, and she cried out finally. Akira had tried to be a good slut and take Daddy, but she had not imagined how full she would be. Her little body felt as if it were splitting in two. She closed her eyes, and, unable to help herself, screamed as Harris pulled out and slowly pushed back in, then opened her wide golden eyes. “Daddyyy…” she moaned, feeling the wideness of his cock.
Harris stroked her soft, shiny, black hair, his cock almost painfully constricted in her tightness. “Good girl, Akira,” he said softly, his hands wandering down her body, loving the feel of his daughters fresh young skin. “Daddy is going to fill your sweet little pussy with his cock juice,” he grunted, feeling himself swell inside her. Harris meant to be gentle with her, the cunt of a three year old couldn’t be taken too harshly or she’d be ruined, but the feeling of cum building in him was uncontrollable, and he pulled out once more and began slamming into her harder, pushing himself in as far as his cock would go. Her cries grew louder, no longer yelling Daddy, but incomprehensible pleading. Harris groaned and let out a loud shout as he exploded inside her, his thick cum quickly filling her. He pulled out as he felt his cock releasing, and watched the cum flowing back out of her swollen baby cunt. It was pinkened by her blood, and she lay trembling on her back. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but to Harris’s surprise, she was now smiling. He cocked his head to the side and gazed down at her. “All right, my little whore?” he asked softly, stroking her cheek.
She beamed up at him, pussy throbbing, and said softly, “I love you, Daddy.”
Oh, how she reminded him of his Chelle. Though her golden skin was a medium mix of Chelle’s dark and his garden variety pinkish-white, her face was a sensual, youthful copy. The lips were full and round, slightly bowed, and the softest thing he’d ever had wrapped around his cock. Those lips kissed his cock before each feeding, lovingly, and she would look up at him pleadingly, warmly. Sometimes Harris increased his own pleasure by denying her, and grew harder at the sound of her voice- soft, breathy, throaty for a girl so small, like her mothers. When denied, she would beg, sincerely, for she could not eat, bathe, play, leave the house, or even her room, until Daddy had fed her the salty/sweet juice that was her reward. Her tongue was perfectly pink and a little long, and when she stood in front of him each morning, Harris was thoroughly turned on by the sight of it darting in and out as she first licked the head and shaft slowly. The sensation of her young mouth was like warm, moist, velvet, when she took him into her mouth completely, and her jaws stretched at his girth. Long legged, slender boned, her little ass was already promising the same round, full protrusion that Chelle’s had. Haris enjoyed the touch of her ass, but had not taken it yet- this, he swore to himself, he would save for her teen years… maybe pre-teen, he corrected himself.
Harris had an amazing amount of self-control, but his daughter tested every bit of it. She reminded him in spirit of her mother Chelle, a heady blend of innocence and stubborness, na? about sexuality but sexually gifted, and he never knew which side he would get. Sometimes his Akira, like his Chelle, would be easily compliant and willingly manipulated; other times she was defiant and bratty. Harris loved both sides. When she was compliant, she pleased him in ways that a 55 year old man could normally only dream of. When she was disobedient, he had the pleasure of punishing her, by whip, by confinement, by cruelty. Or, as in the current case, by sexual torment, he thought, bringing himself back to the present.
The vibrating egg had been in place for hours, and she’d been cuffed to the bed overnight. The clamps on her tiny poufs of nipples weren’t very tight, but just enough to cause discomfort. They, too, however, had been in place since the evening before, and he could see a deep burgundy around the pinches. The heat in her room was turned up, both to accommodate her nudity and to make her uncomfortable. The sweat beading her glowing light brown skin was a sight to see. Akira had writhed all night long, from the stress on her arms, from the heat, from Harris playing intermittently with her throughout the night.
Despite the bedroom lights being out, he’d put a blindfold on her eyes, because he wanted her darkness to be absolute. He did not want her to see him coming or going in shadow, and she had woken with a start each time. He’d started by fingering her tender cunt, enjoying the tightness, the heat, the velvety wetness as it clung to his middle finger. Softly. Tenderly. Akira had moaned quietly and begun to rotate her slender girl hips, excited as always when he was gentle. When he was gentle, when he kissed her and rubbed her lovingly, he was Daddy, and she was his baby girl, his sexy little princess.
His finger slid inside her gently, once again immersed in the thin sticky juices that could only come from a baby pussy, walls enveloping it, and Harris’s cock hardened immediately. His thumb had reached up and begun to stroke the tiny little button that was Akira’s clit, and he once again marveled at how sensitive it was, how much she was like his Chelle, his black beauty, and he had a wistful moment when he wanted her there. How erotic it would be to watch Chelle’s now 19 year old body hover over her daughters face, feeding her from the pussy that created her, just as he fed Akira the same seed that had made her when she sucked his cock every evening. Harris had looked for Chelle relentlessly since the day he knew she turned eighteen, and could never be taken from him again. For a moment, with Akira’s writhing little body laid in front of him, her breathy moans encouraging him to be Daddy, he was tempted to free her from the bed, forgo her punishment for her mouthiness that evening, and lick, kiss, taste her.
But he couldn’t. Akira had to learn, without mixed messages, that rules were not to be broken. He continued to finger her cunt and clit, leaning in closer to smell the faint cinnamon sweetness of her fresh six year old half-breed pussyhole, then, rearing back, shoved his index finger in with the middle, all the way to the knuckle, quick and hard. She squealed loudly and her back arched; her hips jerked spasmodically. The transition from gentleness to barbaric thrusting had shocked her little body, and her first reaction was to get away. She knew this was the wrong thing, to try to escape punishment, but Akira was still young, and her training had yet to force her teachings to become innate. Trying to get away, squirming against the cuffs, she would only make Daddy angrier, and when he was displeased, he wasn’t Daddy anymore. He was Master, and she was his fuckhole, his baby whore, and he would use her to the point of exhaustion. Akira was afraid of this, yet she craved it. He might use her soft, small body until she screamed for him to stop, but when he was satisfied that she’d learned, he rewarded her.
His fingers pounded into her, twice, three times, four, until she stopped trying to wriggle her hips away. Her squeals became loud moans, and the wetness in her cunt grew until he knew she was going to have what he called her baby orgasm, an inner flush of liquid that was slightly urine, the only thing her young twat could give him yet. It dribbled out of her and he gave a grim smile, then reached up and pinched her tiny nipple. Akira cried out, and he twisted it hard. Her body thrust itself upwards and he immediately withdrew his other hand from her cunt and slapped her thighs. Harris used measured force, knowing her little body could bruise easily, but the resounding smacks were enough to cause her to scream. “Please, Daddy, please, I’m sorry!”
Harris narrowed his eyes, shifted, and slapped her cunt hard. She wasn’t sorry, he knew. Akira wasn’t sorry until she was so worn out she could barely speak. Begging was only a way to try to talk him down, make him be Daddy again. Sometimes he indulged her, but not this time. She had broken a serious rule, one that could have dire consequences, and though he thought he had tempered his anger enough to punish her without being too harsh, he felt it growing again. Harris thought he might be able to fix the mess Akira may have made, but in the meantime he intended to make sure she’d never do it again. Rising from the bed, he walked over to the dresser, opening the bottom drawer. The special drawer. Akira could see his movements and immediately began to whimper loudly. Harris selected a long, thin, plastic rod, with a tiny metal piece protruding from the top. He flicked it through the air, and she moaned. “I love you, Akira,” he began in an even voice, “but I’m very upset. What you did might make them take you away from Daddy. You will have to learn not to break the rules.” She began to shake, and Harris felt a mixture of arousal and pity. But he had already had his Chelle taken from him, and the thought of losing Akira was more powerful than any passing empathy he might have. She had to learn, he thought to himself, and flicked a switch on the base of the plastic rod. It began to hum quietly, the innocuous sound causing his daughter’s eyes to grow wide. “Please.. Master… I’m sorry… Master, baby slut is sorry…”