(Untitled)

[sweetsalome]

No joke, Salome changed her mind sixteen times when trying to decided if she wanted to meet her birth mom.  It wasn't that she was scared but there was a real thought and fear that she would just lose it in the middle of the conversation and she didn't want to lose it.  Her father would get upset at Amanda and it wasn't this woman's fault that

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[soursanguine]

Oh, it's a terrible idea, he's going to have to turn Delilah down for at least a week while his wounds heal, but it's all completely worth it. The trail of fire left by her nails and her teeth like little nails, all of it is glorious. He practically snarls, head jerking with the way she tears at his hair; his hands firmly latch upon her hips and he rolls, lying upon his back and keeping his grip upon her hips to bounce her in his lap.

The only time they leave is to frame her face and draw her back down toward his, his hips hammering up into hers with every bounce down. The sensation explodes up to his skull and back time and again, the sight too much for him to bear. He could crawl up inside her, rest behind her ribcage to devour her heart, he'd like nothing better.

Talk about being his forever.

One hand gropes over, grabbing for the lamp to flip it on so he can see her in better light, from the curves of her lithe body to the blood-smeared carving upon her thigh. Richard moans sharply in appreciation for the very sight of it and the stains it's left upon the sheet, the mark further perfecting her already incredible form.

He laughs darkly at her question, nipping sharply upon her lips. "Mm, saying things like that you might get in trouble." His tongue slithers into her mouth. "Of course not, wicked girl, not unless you want to drag daddy down right along with you. They wouldn't understand the kind of fun you and i have playing together, baby."

[sweetsalome]

He makes her feel like a rag doll. He makes her feel like a princess. Like the most desirable woman on the face of the planet. He has done something to her that has turned her into a brand new person. She was aware of sex and how it was done before she lured him into bed, but she had no idea how fucking good it could be until he came along and showed her, and showed her, over and over, and now, now there is no stopping. She craves it like oxygen, and wants it only from him. She talks about the future, of having someone else, but she can't even imagine it. Where could she go from here?

He sits her up and she sways dangerously on top of him, feeling light headed, wild and unsteady.

When she realizes what is going on she reaches down, nails digging into his pecs as he starts bouncing with him, groaning happily at this new position, the way he hits inside of her, the way he looks spread out on the bed under her. Oh it is a fucking fantastic sight. A few blinks at the presence of a light and she grins, brushing her loose hair away from her face as she grinds down on top of his cock.

"Did you want to see your work, daddy? I love it when you turn on the light, I like knowing you can see me bouncing on your cock. Watching, for me, is half the fun." She looks down between them, sitting back slightly and running her hand down over herself, spreading her cunt. "I get so fucking wet watching your cock disappear inside of me. Look at how fucking hard you are." She squeezes around him, yes, love that hard.

"Pervert, disgusting deviant, reveling in the incest you couldn't get as a boy, hmmm? Tell me, dad, how does it finally feel getting to stick your dick into a member of your own family?"

[soursanguine]

As far as he's concerned, she is, or at the very least, she's one of them. And not just because of her relation to him, but her proclivities, and her looks, and her wicked little mind. But it certainly doesn't hurt that she's his daughter, and thus, he's predisposed to desperately, passionately adore her and find her adorable. That sort of thing bleeds into desire quite nicely, come a situation like this.

While she works on top of him, her body twisting more beautifully than any statue, he swiftly unbuttons as few buttons as it takes for him to be able to drag his shirt over his head and toss it to land wherever it will, to let those nails seek proper purchase in his flesh and give him more than welts. His back arches with every stroke within her, his eyes squeezing shut for only the few seconds it takes him to collect himself before being able to really look at her again.

"Of course I want to see my work, I could look at it all day." He grins, inhaling in appreciation as she spreads herself, so shameless, so lewd, his vulgar little girl. And such appalling language. "Goddamn, isn't that beautiful, oh, kitten, daddy loves to watch you fuck him as much as he loves to feel it--oh, fuck, baby." That squeeze gets another senseless moan out of him, the back of his skull pressing hard into the pillow.

He grits his teeth, each filthy word out of her mouth bringing another shock of pleasure with it. His hand drops between her thighs, between the fingers that spread herself as though in offering, and he toys with her clit while his other hand reaches to fit in the curve of her neck.

"Nah, baby, this is nothing like-- no, fuck that old whore." His teeth sink into his own lip and the hand upon her neck slides up to frame her jaw. "That was nothing compared to this. I want you more than I ever could have wanted her. I hated her, but I love you. And oh, Christ, I love fucking you, Salome, it feels so good to fuck my darling little girl, better than I ever could have imagined screwing that old bitch would have felt like. This isn't what I couldn't get as a boy, baby, this is better, a thousand times better."

His senseless grin widens and his fingers twitch over the little mound of nerve endings. "Besides, baby, you revel just as much as me. Even more. Look at you, riding daddy like you're going for a pony ride, wet as you are, spreading yourself open so I can see you." A shudder rattles through him at the grip she has on him. "You love being my filthy little girl, don't you."

[sweetsalome]

Finally! That fucking shirt was getting in the way of things and she wanted to so desperately rip it off of him and fling it away but then he started to ram her like he was trying to break a door down and she lost focus. He tends to do that to her. Now, on top of him, looking down at the spread of dark hair, the flash of his teeth and the dark of his eyes, well, she is back on focus. Her head bows and she bites and sucks at his chest, yes, leave all those little marks for someone to find later on. Let someone get the hint that he isn't theirs, but hers. Her father. Her lover. No one, no matter how long they stick around, will ever be able to have what they have. No lover now or later could ever come between them. They have something different, special, and the more they fuck, the more she comes to realize this and the more confident she gets in their relationship.

"Of course it's better." She leans into his touch, her hand sliding over the back of his hand, pressing it to her jaw as she finds herself getting closer and closer to the edge of another orgasm. It's his fingers, back for revenge apparently, and she tightens around him so impossibly that she finds it throws her thoughts off. "I am younger and tighter then she ever was. No, you waited for something much, much better, didn't you, dad? Something you could take over and over, and wants it just as much as you do. I love being your dirty, wicked little girl. I love coming all over your cock and all over your face when you're too fucking stoned to get it up."

She loves it. She wants more of it. She wants to be dirtier and more depraved the more and more they do this. And she wants to come. Eyes squeezing shut for a moment she gasps and bounces down on top of him faster and faster, driving and grinding against his cock and his fingers as she screams out her pleasure, coming, squeezing and rocking back and forth to get as much of it as possible.

[soursanguine]

He'd be so pleased to know he was managing to instill her with such confidence. It's only the truth, after all, that nothing could come between them; he'd go to the ends of the earth just to reassure her of that fact. It's not a frou-frou little romance, what they have, that's better saved for others. His adoration is strictly paternal in a manner tainted with violent lust and obsessive possession.

And he enjoys it more than he would a romance with any non-homicidal individual, really.

"Yeah you are, but you're more than even that, baby. You're like a big chunk of my heart. Completely and totally mine." He grins, moaning her name at her words, the tempo of his hips increasing to a frantic beat as he meets her downstrokes. "And for as long as we're both alive I will never let you go."

While she gasps, his hands grip her waist as if to keep her from completely collapsing. It's the sight of her rocking back and forth that really does him in, though, completely lost to the power of her climax. Richard snarls her name and lets go, his head slamming back against the pillow while his hips and back arch up in his release. Within her twitching cunt he suffers an explosion of divine pleasure, completely losing himself like a man adrift on the sea.

Once the pleasure reaches its apex and he slides back down, his body relaxes beneath her. He pants to catch up with his breath, his eyes closing as he steadies himself.

When he opens his eyes again, it's like he's seeing spots. His gaze slips down her body, landing upon her blood-smeared thigh, and through the senseless haze over his head, he murmurs, "I need to get you cleaned up."

[sweetsalome]

The space between her sitting up and him laying down is just massive. It's like the grand canyon, or one of those canyons on Mars that is so huge it's the size of the United States. That's where that is, isn't it? Mars sounds about right. It is a massive distance, light years is what it is and it takes gravity and time to finally pull her down to his chest after all the energy has seeped from her. A gasp and she sinks down against him, on to solid ground, her body still trembling and twitching and her mind still swimming and reeling from the orgasm he gave her.

"Noooo," she giggles and groans, her lips moving over his throat in slow, paper dry kisses, up to his earlobe where she nibbles and nuzzles before pausing. She lost her train of thought, why was she tell him 'no'? Her hips grind down on top of his and she gives him a little experimental thrust.

"We should do it again, do it again now, c'mon." Not that it actually work that way, but she can try. It seems very unfair that he has to take long breaks in between rounds of coming, he should just be able to get it up and fuck her over and over one right after the other. Her intentions are good, but after everything he gave her she finds that it might be a little hard to get more energy to get him up.

[soursanguine]

As she lies down upon his chest, Richard's arms fold tight around her slim body, so warm against his that he sighs in delight. He buries his face in her neck to moan again, the pleasure simply having her in his arms. The after is as erotic as the before and the during, when he lies with the reality of what he's done.

The giggle that comes along with her protest makes him grin. "No? But I need to make sure that wound is clean, silly girl. It's in an important place." Her thrust has him hiding a slight grimace at the overwhelming sensation. Hands landing upon her hips, he swiftly lifts her up.

"I'd love to do it again now, baby," he says, grinning as she begs him like a little girl wanting her father to play with her some more, "but daddy needs a couple of minutes." When she acts the way she is now, she could get him to do absolutely anything. Some things, though, are simply not in the realm of possibility. He leans to kiss her lips, his tongue dancing between them and into her mouth while his hand crawls from her hip to the apex of her thighs. Two fingers replace his cock, sliding into the slick channel with easy, and he grins against her mouth. "But if you're a good girl while daddy cleans your cuts and patches it up, then maybe I'll make you cum for me." Within her, his fingers curl to beat against the soft flesh. "Would you like that?"

[sweetsalome]

Rolling over on to her side she stretches out with a pout. Impossible indeed. That is simply no fair. He seems to be so fantastic at everything else he should be able to get it up in no time. Grinning finally she rolls on to her back and wraps an arm around him when he kisses her. Is there anything in the world that he won't give her? Well, yeah, some things, but he apparently makes up for it when he can.

A gaps and a shudder, as much as she wants more, her body is protesting the idea. Every nerve between her legs is on fire and his fingers just make that worse as much as it makes it better. A groan, and a groan as her hips arch and lift toward his fingers. She has to be a mess down there, between her wet and his wet and the dried blood that reminds her of the first time they were together.

She lets her fingers grab in his dark hair, lifting herself up to kiss his mouth hard. "I like being a mes for you though, can you feel all that come that you left in me, dad? Mmmmm filling me up, wanting to continue on the species, if they could, before you snipped yourself." Some more giggling as she twists and pushes into his fingers. "You know I am always a good girl."

[soursanguine]

In no time, generally, but even the most virile man needs ten minutes to get it together again. Ah, the impatience of youth. Someday, she'll learn. Someday she'll get with a man who isn't her father, and isn't a teenage boy, and she'll see how lucky she is to have a daddy who gets so hard, so fast.

The little groan of hypersensitivity makes him grin, his head lifting into the fingers that grip his hair. "Wouldn't it be terrible if I hadn't gotten fixed? How appalling." He grins, his fingers probing deep as they can go before he lifts them to his lips to lick them clean. "I can taste myself on you. Such a simple, beautiful thing." His mouth presses to hers, breath pouring into her mouth.

"Uh-huh, you're a good girl when it suits you to be one." He chuckles and sits up, chuckling as he remembers the trousers still down around his knees, as if the feeling is just now coming back to his legs. After stripping them away, he slides from bed with a stretch. "Mmhm, and I love seeing you a mess. But I have to take care of my little girl, don't I? Like all those scraped knees and little accidents. This is deeper than those, though, and we want to make sure it heals right. Leaves a pretty scar that won't get infected." Richard pauses to kneel before the edge of the bed and admire the blood that dries smeared upon her thigh, and the lines that stand in dark contrast to her skin. He smiles, kissing just above the wound, his tongue flickering out against the metallic stain.

"Such a beautiful canvas," he says, smiling as he lifts his head away. "I'm looking forward to seeing how lovely it'll be when it heals."

[sweetsalome]

The impatience of youth for sure. Always rushing, rush, this one. At least sometimes she can manage to stay still, when she is high or when she is well fucked. At this point in time she is the latter for sure. For sure. She likes how hard he gets now, how fast he does, but she would just like him to get fast again. Now. He does have a patience of a saint, how does he put up with her shit?

"You would be the naughtiest monster ever, wouldn't you? Fucking your daughter bare back. We're not inbred rednecks now are we?" They've had this discussion before. The horrific nature of it all, the idea of him being fertile and the both of them being reckless and careless when it comes to birth control. It's one of those disgusting little roleplays that she works out in her head or when they are fucking. In real life there is no way that would ever go down. Medical technology is just a wonderful thing. He licks hiss fingers and she leans up to lick the remaining flavor off of him, giggling and groaning as she does so before he shuts her up with a kiss.

"I think it always suits me to be your good little girl, it's just that you're idea of good is so very wicked." He looks good naked, she probably hasn't mentioned that ever to him, but she loves running her eyes down over his skin, smooth, with a hint of color, he is put together, tight, skinny, with those lines on him that she wants to following with her tongue over and over until her mouth has memorized every last one.

"It's your turn to play doctor, isn't it? I like that a lot, when you take care of me. I like taking care of you too."

[soursanguine]

It's not too hard. He's grown accustomed to it. Raising a girl for so long gives you a great deal of experience with putting up with quite a lot. And when she starts giving such wonderful things back, well...then it's not difficult at all.

"I'm already the naughtiest monster, baby." He laughs, leaning up to nip at her nose. "I don't need to do something so stupid to prove it." There's plenty of other stupid shit he does to prove it. Or relatively stupid, anyway, since he is generally prudent about how he goes about his stupid activities.

The eyes that rake over him coax another grin from his lips, and he pinches her cheek before turning away. "I suppose that's true. And I suppose even the best girls have their moments." He makes his way to the closet and digs through the suitcase, coming up with a brown bottle and a big square bandage. "I had a feeling that you and I might get to playing a little rough," he says, chuckling as he waves the bottle of peroxide at her, "so I thought it couldn't hurt to bring some things along just in case."

After leaning into the bathroom to place them upon the counter, he grins and plucks Salome from the bed to cradle her in his arms. "I enjoyed having you take care of me. And you did such a good job, baby, I was very impressed with how well you handled that needle. Not a rolling vein or bruise in sight." His nose brushes against hers and he carries her into the bathroom, placing her upon the edge of the counter and running the water in the sink. "I love taking care of you. I've always loved it ever since you were little. It's a funny thing, really." He chuckles and shakes his head while he draws the clean washcloth from its place folded in wait. "I never understood it, there was just kind of a simple pleasure in taking care of you if you'd scraped yourself up."

[sweetsalome]

"You know we just talk about that kind of stuff, I really don't want a baby from you. Not that I could get one even if I wanted one, but, you know. I don't know why I feel I just needed to explain myself." She laughs and moves her hand over her face, clearly he has fucked her stupid, not that she is complaining. They are on the same page about pretty much everything, what they say in the heat of the moment or perhaps the after moment is generally fueled by lust and loss of brain function.

A frown when she sees that brown bottle, everyone knows what is in that brown bottle. "It's going to hurt! I don't want it to hurt." He'll take care of her though, she has no doubt about that, and when he scoops her up she holds on to him, her head on his chest as he carries her into the bathroom.

It's only until they are there and she is sitting on the counter, leaning back and spreading her legs, not unlike before, she reaches down to move her fingers over the crusted over initials he put on her. "I think it's just something people like to do, it makes them feel good, it makes them feel in control of the situation. I liked shooting you up, heating the water and the drugs, it was so interesting to do."

[soursanguine]

Richard laughs gently and kisses her cheek. "I know, baby, don't worry. There's a difference between playing and talking seriously. You don't need to explain yourself. Daddy says vile things too, sometimes, but he doesn't often mean them." Often being the operative word. He definitely meant them just now, in bed. About making her watch while he yanked out her lover's teeth, or about the fact that she'll always be his no matter what she does. Those were all absolute truths.

"Yes, baby, but it'll only hurt for a few seconds." He grins, nipping the corner of her mouth. "Besides, would you rather it hurt for a short time now, or would you rather it hurt a lot more later when they have to amputate your leg?" Chuckling, Richard runs the washcloth under the warm water that pours from the faucet and dabs it lightly around the wound, first cleaning off the blood smeared all across her thigh.

"Indeed, it's lovely to have that type of control." Of course, the reason why it confuses him is because his power is typically not derived from caring for another person; quite the opposite. Although he's noticed the same phenomenon with Delilah. So strange, these women and what they do to him. "Well, you can do it again another time. I'd love to let you, you certainly did a nice job, and I had a lovely time relaxing with you all afternoon." He smiles gently up at her before focusing down on the marks she touches, pressing harder to work the surface of the wound clean of the black-red blood congealing within it.

New blood blooms to the surface, and as it does, he leans up to press his mouth to hers. As he kisses her, Richard unscrews the cap of the bottle with a swift hand and unceremoniously splashes peroxide over the wound. His tongue and lips and teeth never stop working as if to distract her; the chemical sets to work, no doubt furiously burning, but it also does a fine job of getting rid of most of the excess blood upon her thigh.

Magnificent for cleaning all number of things, that stuff.

[sweetsalome]

"That's true," in some ways she knows when he is just talking to say disgusting things, and when he actually means it. At the moment she has the very clear image of him sneering over top of her, telling her in no uncertain terms that this will never end. That he meant. She knows it. The way he looked at her, how he trembled and snarled. Yes, she will always be his, no matter what, no matter if there are boyfriends or girlfriends, or if there are husbands. He will still pull her into his arms some nights and fuck her brains out. She is still trying to figure out why that turns her on so much.

It's the idea of being owned. Of being possessed by someone. Knowing that he would tear people down in order to get to her. It gets her stupidly high.

"They wouldn't ever have to do that, I wouldn't let it get infected like that, dad," she gives him a look, he is pulling her leg and she knows it. Nice try old man. Sitting back she lets her head fall against the mirror as she watches him wash off her leg, smirking slightly at the idea of shooting him up once again. She wonders what else he likes to put in his vein outside of the narcotic he exposed her to. They will have to see. She wants him to teach her about all of it, not because she wants to use, but because it fascinates her. She wants to be able to control that.

Even with his mouth against hers she hisses and groans, her nails digging into his bicep as the peroxide burns out anything that shouldn't be in there. It gets her wiggling on the counter top as she tries to move her thigh away from the burn. Fuck that hurts.

[soursanguine]

He really and truly is the master of double-standards. Girlfriends, he might approve of. If he could convince her to be a situational lesbian for everyone but him, he might be on to a solution to his little jealousy problem. As far as he's concerned, no woman is a threat to him in such a way, so she's welcome to knock herself out in that direction. As long as she doesn't dyke out and get a mullet or anything. Now there's a fucking nightmare.

"Famous last words." The phrase is singsong. That little look she gives gets a particular laugh out of him. How many times has he told her that sort of shit? Uh-oh, baby, you got a paper cut? Well, guess we'll have to amputate your finger, get the butcher knife...

While she hisses, he coos, then groans sharply as her nails dig into him. "It's all right, baby," he says, words crooning into her mouth. "That just means it's doing its job, it's all right." He glances down to dab the washcloth over the wound again, wringing it out in the sink and soaking it in clean water. When he dabs it again, the wound starts to look much cleaner, and much clearer, his perfect initials in red relief against her tawny flesh. He smiles fondly, tilting his head as he says, "Look at that, isn't that beautiful. Proof that you're my one and only little girl. Something that you and I and the whole world can look upon. Visual, tangible evidence of how much your daddy loves you."

His grin widens and he kisses her cheek, leaning his forehead against her temple. "And he does love you. Very, very much."

[sweetsalome]

It would be incredibly hard for her to become a dyke, she loves cock way too much for that, well, his cock anyway. Women are pretty and soft, they are beautiful and enjoyable to touch and to kiss but the idea of being with one for the rest of her life seems a bit dramatic. Women are drama and they don't have the same hard that she wants in a lover. Her father shouldn't worry about that, she is way too much of a prima donna to go full mullet, flannel and not shave her legs. She is a princess, he's said it himself, and a princess always shaves her legs and wears lipstick. That's just how that goes.

As a child the idea of losing a finger or a limb because she wouldn't let him at her seemed very, very real. Now she knows that he was just a big fat liar. But she loves him anyway.

"I know, I know," she opens her eyes to look down at the little white bubbles that appear around the edges of her cuts. "It's beautiful, I love it." Like he just gave her a tattoo, and in a sense he sort of did, except those scars will fade over time and he'll have the renew them when they do. Or, she could just man up and actually get that in ink, she will have to push her vanity aside for that however.

Reaching up she smoothes his cheek over with her fingers gently, her eyes closing as she leans against him. "I love you, dad, so much, so, so fucking much. You'll never lose me, you know, I'll always be your little girl, no matter what."