("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2011. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- The Reverend Joshua and His Lil Emma by Sumddy (sumddy@gmail.com) *** The well endowed Reverend Joshua lusts after his well endowed daughter Emma who secretly lusts after her father too. They live alone together on their rural farm in the late 1800's, and the devil has gotten into them both. (Mf, ped, exh, inc, mast, oral, rom, bd) *** Chapter 1 of 6 The Devil's Mischief Reverend Joshua had been hornier than he remembered being in a long time. Out in the field of his farm that he worked with his daughter, Emma, every breeze that day seemed to make his cock stir with images of his little girl. Particularly images just the other night inadvertently seeing his little Emma bathing. Eighteen and well endowed like his mother, her breasts too large for her tiny petite frame, she was like an orchid, so ripe and soft and bemusing The Reverend Joshua could barely contain himself from stealing glances at his daughter at every opportunity. He loved his daughter, respected her and care for her, but he lusted for her as well. Unable to stand not touching the beckoning throbbing meat of his cock any longer, Reverend Joshua alone in the field squeezed the thick meaty manhood of his large thick cock through his overalls. Thumb down, his fingers pinching his cock into the heel of his palm, sideways through the fabric, gripping himself in his palm, around his aching erection, rubbing it, squeezing, pulling, the electric sensations penetrating every fiber of his being, images of his loving daughter so ripe and tender and he knew so sweet to the taste flashed through his imagination. He'd done the unthinkable the night before; after Emma had gone to bed, he retrieved her undershorts, and breathed in the fragrance of his daughter's pussy. Worse, he'd pressed the crotch of her panties to his nose, pressed his tongue into the soft cotton, and licked. Joshua groaned out loud wrapping as much of his hand around his needy cock as he could through his pants. Sliding his hand around himself up and down with the fabric, his cock swelling harder and harder still, he growled fiercely enough the horse tried to look past it's blinder's back toward him. The sun hot on his face, his breathing deep and long, faster and faster with images of his little Emma coursing through him Reverend Joshua could scream he was so indescribably, amazingly aching hard. The loose material of his overalls allowed him to slide his hand up and down, jacking his cock, the erotic sensations making him crazy with lust, and with no one but the plow-horse anywhere near, he leaned into the wooden handle of the plow for support, closed his eyes and let himself drift deeper and deeper into his erotic imagination. He rolled the bloated head of his raging hard cock under his palm, right there in the field, the sensations of touching himself, of stroking his erection, thinking of his little Emma naked made his entire body light up and hum with sexual energy. Images of her struggling, her hands bound above her head made his cock throb with want. Her lovely full breasts swaying and jiggling under her soft white nightgown. Images of her begging him to punish her, that she needed to be punished, that she’d been a wicked, wicked girl, wicked dirty thoughts, a dirty little girl, thoughts the Reverend knew were his own. He saw himself unbuckle his belt, and her eyes widen. Him pull his belt from around his waist, him threaten to give her a good lashing, his little girl quiver, her lick her lips in anticipation, with want. His huge cock throbbed and ached even more. Images of him raising her nightgown above her tender little hips. Her pushing her lovely bottom out to him, “Punish me, Papa” she’d cry, “such naughty, dirty thoughts, I need, to be, punished, Papa. Make me a good girl Papa, want to be, your good girl. Touch my little pussy, Daddy. My bottom. So wet, Papa, so wet. Touch... my breasts, Daddy. Please...” she'd plea. "They hurt, Papa, they ache Daddy, need you to touch them." The Reverend leaned his head back and groaned. “Yes, baby, Daddy’s girl. Daddy’s good girl. So wet, lil baby. Mmmm, let Daddy touch you, let Daddy make you feel good, Emma.” His now hugely swollen erection hurt he was so rigidly hard, his cock so swollen, aching for release, felt so fucking good. His entire body seethed with the erotic vibrations pulling on his swollen member caused. Reverend Joshua almost gasped out loud out under the blue sky “Ohhhh, little baby” he muttered deliriously, “nnnn, good girl, need to be taught, need to be shown” jacking his cock, his little Em looking up at him, her big eyes, her soft voice, “Show me how, Papa. Want to please you, Papa.” “Sweet lord, my little Emma, my little baby, my little girl, my sweet little baby, oooh lord, give me strength, such dirty, dirty thoughts about my little Emma” he struggled, squeezing the head of his enflamed insistent erection he couldn’t stop rubbing, the image of little Emma’s naked form burning into his imagination, her silky long hair, her pearlescent body glistening in the firelight, her beautiful eyes, her lovely skin, his baby’s lips. He imagined their kissing. His little girl’s tongue in his mouth. He groaned. Joshua couldn’t shake the constant stream of images going through his mind. His daughter, his little girl, how he wanted to fuck his own little girl. Images of her, releasing his little girl from the rafter in the barn, her hands bound, her body on fire after her thrashing, thrashings he never actually gave her, her gown damp sweaty, hot, on fire with want, her hair wild, her breathing hot and ragged, her legs and bottom red and welted. Her on her knees in her soft white gown, her little belly and breasts pressing out to him, for him, him tear her gown open, her breasts spilling out, her eyes wild, her beauty unrelenting. Him releasing his cock from his pants, his little girl’s eyes wide, his little girl sucking him into her hot wet mouth, his groaning out, “Ohhh, Emma, yes, little baby, suck Daddy little baby, nnnn, yes, good girl, just like Daddy showed you, good girl.” The Reverend worked himself into a raging erotic need, his overalls now stained dark with pre-cum pouring from his cock. He had violent images of her in a frenzy, begging him, to touch her, him throwing her to the ground, him pushing her back onto the bails of hay, her arms above her head, her hands bound, her not sure, if she wanted him, to take her, her denying how wet she was, how swollen her breasts were with sexual excitement. Her helpless to stop him. Her tender legs spread, her pushing her hot, wet pussy up to him, wanting him to touch her, "Nnnn, Dadddyy” she’d finally moan. Him tear her gown away from her writhing body, her fucking wonderful breasts, her swollen nipples, her lips quivering with want, her eyes begging him. He imagined himself between his young daughter's legs, him spreading her legs open with his legs, his long, hard, throbbing cock-flesh buried in his daughters cunny, wet and hot, swollen, pink, and shiny wet, her creamy satin-smooth pussy sucking him inside her, wrapping around him, the glove of her soft creamy hot sex. Her wanting him, him wanting her, begging her father to fuck her. He could hear her soft voice turn eager, wanton, “Nnnn, fuck me Papa, fuck your little Emma, Daddy, nnnn, Daddy, yes, slide it inside me. Ohhh Daddy, so big, too big, Papa, ohhhh, nnnn, Papaaaa” gushing all over his huge animalistic daddy-cock fucking up inside his little girl. “That’s my good girl, yesss, little baby” the Reverend fantasized, holding her to him by the backs of her thighs, rutting into his lil girl, fucking his huge erection deep into his daughter, his beautiful Emma. *** Reverend Joshua and his little Emma lived alone together on the outstretched farm some twenty miles from town. The nearest neighbors in 1883 were a days ride away in the wagon, and being so isolated, being so far away from other people for he and Emma to socialize with, her Daddy worried that he wouldn't know how to care for his little baby all on his own; yet he conceded he’d done quite well, he and his Emma had done quite well together. Emma was at such a tender growing age. An age where a young girl needed the affections and direction of an older woman, a sister. Joshua thought of his wife, and his mother, Rose, Emma’s Grandma. How she would be such a good influence on his little Emma. He hadn't expected to see his little girl in her bath that night, or expect to see not only how lovely she was, how much older she looked than he’d really noticed before now, how much she’d filled out since he’d last seen her naked when she was much younger, how utterly sexual she appeared to him, but to see her soaped up between her legs, carefully use her mother's rubbing stone he didn't know Emma had found, trimming away her pubic hair, her so beautifully sculpted. The sight of his little girl naked in the bath had given Reverend Joshua a whole new vision of his young daughter, and a solid erection he had to hide for days on end. While he didn’t know it, Emma had begun to imagine being kissed while her Papa was out working in the fields, and that she thought of him, too. That it was his lips, his mouth she wanted to please. He was acutely aware of his little girl, her exuding a pure raw wanton sexuality. He saw it in the quick flashes of her smiles, in the way she moved. He’d caught himself questioning if these weren’t just the happy, excited, cheerful lovely looks of his loving daughter. Whether these impressions weren’t just the devil in him, convincing him she exuded a radiating, pure, wanton ripeness, an aura, an alluring fragrance, and he’d begun to notice that his thoughts of his little Emma had become more, and more, and more sexual. His impure lustful thoughts about her if he was honest he’d had for some time. Thoughts he shouldn’t be having about his own little girl, his daughter, much less as a man of the cloth, but Reverend Joshua hadn’t always been a minister and the devil had been tempting him ever since. Isolated as they were, Reverend Joshua didn’t need anyone but his little girl. He and little Emma were far away from the nearest town, and while they’d go in for supplies every month or so, where he'd give a sermon while there, especially now in the late spring, Reverend Joshua and young little Emma were proper folk (even if they were both privately ready to scream with a hidden, secret lust for one another). It was just him and little Emma for miles and miles, and Joshua had to restrain his lustful feelings for his little girl, the sole feminine presence out here. He’d thought of taking a new wife, but really Emma was all the feminine company he needed; they managed the farm just fine together, and he loved taking care of his little girl, and her him. He loved teaching her everything about the farm, the animals, and she was already as knowledgeable as anyone he knew. He loved how she'd show him the world afresh with her insights and interests. They worked well together, got along incredibly well together. They'd become friends out here on the farm alone together, companions, father and daughter. Even as they’d ride the long trip into town in the horse drawn one-seat carriage, his little girl’s thighs rubbing and bouncing against his, their smiles at each other, her scooting closer so her shoulder rubbed and bumped against her father’s with the motions of the wagon, because of his new religious beliefs even relieving himself was a spiritual struggle he was reminded in the field that day as he rubbed his erection through his overalls. As he felt that lovely swelling heat in his balls, raising himself to orgasm, his soul raising toward the golden crown at the top of his head. Joshua’s eyes rolled back as he restrained that first sweeping wave deciding to hold on to the pent up arousal, wanting to continue dreaming of fucking his cock into his little girl’s hands, into her mouth, between her full breasts. That he’d become filled with such impure thoughts about his daughter, his little girl, that he’d begun thinking wicked thoughts “the devil’s mischief” he’d say, was a battle with a side of himself from before he’d become a minister. Add to that being out here so far from anything with no other relief from his aching balls, the site of the farm animals mating, the females in seasonal heat, even the youngest heifer’s and fouls bouncing and jumping, the air full of the narcotic spring heat, the side of him from before he became a minister kept creeping back out. Like when he was pushing the plow, he’d inadvertently press his cock against the wooden gear, his mind would wander, the heat making his imagination wild, remembering his wife, other women he’d known. The side of him saying,“It’s just the two of you out here” he’d catch himself thinking. “She’s young, but only a little younger as her mother back then, and her mother loved my huge, hard cock in her little cunny. Em’s ready” he’d rationalize, “her body is ripe for a cock. She’d love it, she’d love having a big cock sliding inside her little cunny just like her momma did.” The more he had these thoughts, the more he’d work himself up, the plow jerking him back to his task before drifting back off again into his fantasies. He’d smile at himself, that he was having these thoughts about his little Emma at all, and then could go further into the fantasy. Then again, he knew from experience there was some truth to his fantasies as well. “I can see it in her looks, how she stands, how she presses her breasts forward just like her momma” he’d say out loud, to no one but his conscience, “how she hugs me (the Reverend’s cock got harder yet), pushing her groin into my legs, her hugs a little too long, a little too close” he thought, pulling his cock to the tempo of these thoughts. In a moment of guilty pleasure, he cried out loud, “Save me from the devil, lord, sweet lord save me.” He stroked his cock, pulled on it igniting a new burst of electric waves. “Oh lord, how I’d love to slide my cock between my little Emma’s breasts” (the image of little Emma in the bath, her too large breasts for such a little petite girl, ripe and jutting out, her puffy nipples turned upward), “to slide my cock into her little mouth.” He saw his little girl’s lovely lips, her eyes sparkling, her mouth slightly open, the upturned corners of her mouth, her whispering soft little voice, “Let me suck you, Papa.” Reverend Joshua moaned. Her little pussy would love being licked and sucked he imagined, her bald shiny mound, her tender little flower, her pink wet sex, his tongue gliding through her slippery wet folds, the taste of her, her sweet honeyed cream, remembering the sight of her smooth, naked mound, and the thing was, he was right. Little Emma’s body was constantly on fire, and was making her crazy with lustful thoughts. She couldn’t wait to touch herself, and with her Daddy in the fields and her chores done she stole to her little room, to her bed, every day, even forgetting to pull the curtain to the main room closed. Some days she'd steal away to a little hidden corner of the barn were she could lean into the bales of hay, pull up her work dress and rub her hot, wet little cunny, thinking of her father. She'd rub and squeeze her aching breasts, pinch her nipples through the fabric of her dress, slide her fingers inside, touch her hot flesh. She'd think of her Daddy catching her, his furious wrath, him grab her, pull her by her hair, throw her over the bales of hay to thrash her, and change his mind, deciding instead to show her a lesson. He'd throw her dress up over her tiny waist exposing her bare naked bottom to the air of the barn. Her little cunny hot and shiny and swollen, open to her father's gaze. Emma was quivering wet, her eyes closed, her breathing fast and ragged. He'd undo his pants; she'd hear him undo his belt, unbutton his pants. He'd growl, "such a naughty, dirty girl." Emma strummed her fingers over her clit. "Daddy will show you how to be a good girl for Daddy" and Emma would cum with a shuddering, quaking orgasm. Today Daddy was again in the fields, and there was no one else around for miles, and Emma felt perfectly safe leaving the door to the cabin wide open, the sweet breeze blowing through the cool shade of their home, gliding over her heated skin. It was spring, and the openness, the nice weather, all made her young nipples sing under her work dress out under the big open blue sky as she imagined her father discovering her. Even the calves nursing their momma’s made her nipples want of her father’s mouth, made her imagine him sucking her swollen aching breasts. She imagined his mouth on her breasts, “Nnn, Papa, ohhh Papa, yes, suck my nipples, Daddy, nnn” she'd murmur, rubbing her large swollen breasts through her dresses. She knew such lustful impure thoughts were wrong, and they made her want it even more. She knew her father would punish her if he knew she imagined his cock in her little hands, in her mouth, pleasuring her own father. But she wanted to, she longed to, she thought about it day and night, each time the thought crossed her mind, her sex would ripple and ache, swell, become slippery. Sometimes she wasn't sure if she was concealing her arousal. If she should any longer. She knew it had been so long since he’d had a woman. She knew he would take the belt to her if he knew how wet her little cunny was. If he knew how wet she’d get when he punished her, when he’d tell her so forcefully to lay over his knee. She felt him get hard. She could feel how big he was. She wondered if he was punishing her for her purposeful misdeeds, or if he was punishing her because it gave him a reason to touch her, to rub his cock on her little belly. She didn’t care which it was. *** Just that morning Emma had climbed into the tiny attic space and found the luridly shaped piece of wood in her grandmother’s wooden chest stored in the makeshift attic up in the rafters of the cabin. It was almost hidden, under her grandma’s feminine things. Hidden because of it’s naughty purpose little Emma knew. Her grandma’s things would fit Emma now, so she’d gone up to see what she might wear. Emma wanted to look older. She was already mature for her age, and she wanted to look older, too, for her Daddy. Grandma Rose had told her when she was old enough she’d be able to wear some of her hand-me-down under garments and dresses and such, and this day couldn’t have come soon enough. She ran the silky cream colored stockings through her fingers, imagining how they would look on her, wrapped around the top of her creamy tender thighs. How her father would look at her, want her, how she'd seduce him. She found an under-corset, the kind that pushed a woman’s breasts up, that if worn without an undershirt would make her nipples point out ripe and hot for her father’s mouth. Emma flushed. She imagined her father catching her wearing it, under her dress, his being furious at her, his losing control, his ripping her dress open, his pulling on her nipples, his big hands on her aching breasts, his hot mouth on her swollen aching breasts. The women in her family were all “built small” her grandma would say, “Petite, tiny, little gals, but we make up for it under our tops” she’d wink at her little granddaughter already filling out, touching her nipple with the tip of her fingers causing Emma to tingle, wanting her grandmother to touch her again, more. Emma touched her finger to the wooden phallus. Even though she’d never seen anything quite like it she knew immediately what it was. Even as she touched it tingles of excitement ran up her arm and through her breasts, too large and sensitive for such a little girl. When she and her Papa would go into town, she’d even notice the other women staring, such beautiful breasts for a young woman, not to mention the boys and men, seeing her as marrying age, and when they’d look she’d feel a mixture of embarrassment, pride, and a warm yearning. She liked it when some of them looked, and she especially liked it when she’d catch her father looking. A yearning she’d experiment with in bed at night under her blankets, when she’d pull her night dress up over her tingling thighs and belly, above her aching breasts, when she’d pretend she was showing them to her Daddy, when she’d pretend her own hot little mouth sucking on her own nipples was her Daddy’s mouth. “Look, Papa” she’d say under her breath, “look how big they’ve gotten. Mmm, Papa, yes, it does feel good when you kiss my breasts, Papa, especially my nipples. Ohhh, Papa, here, suck the other one now, nnn, Daddy.” Emma lifted the wooden phallus from the trunk. She felt that fluttery feeling in her belly, and kneeling in front of her grandma’s trunk studied the pinkish blonde wood. Her eyes widened at the reddish purple veins running along its length that spiraled as it rounded at the top. She imagined her father's erection, his steely hard cock. The wood was perfectly smooth to the touch, well worn and shiny. She tried to imagine her beautiful Grandma using it, sliding it between her large breasts. The curving thick thing spiraling up inside her. Emma felt hot all over. She turned it in her hands, breathing harder, faster her heart racing, her pussy flooding hot wet. It was carved like a spindle for a fancy staircase, with bulging rounds larger and larger until about half way down its length. The varying ridges carved into it’s slightly curved trunk, and long, one end more broad to hold on to, each ridge larger than the next toward the top and then smaller around again toward the bottom, the top mushroom shaped like a Roman warrior’s helmet. An image she remembered from her school books before the first time she saw her father's huge hard cock. She visualized this thick wooden thing inside her, how the ridges would work on her little cunny, how it's design, the ridges, were meant to hold inside her as her little cunny hummed around it. The wooden thing then tapered off slightly toward the tip, the end little Emma knew exactly what it was for, where it was supposed to go, designed to enter her soft pink creamy wet folds. Designed to penetrate her young femininity. Emma shivered. Her little fingers barely fit around the huge thing in her tiny hands. Quivering with nervous energy, heated, thrilling naughty excitement, her fingers wrapped around its base and Emma’s breathing again quickened as she held the stick up close to her mouth. Her eyes scanning along its length, Emma felt flush and warm all over and had the urge to touch the smooth, thick tip to her cheeks, avoiding her actual thought, that she wanted to kiss it, that she wanted to lick it, that she wanted to practice sucking it into her warm wet mouth, to practice for her father. Emma’s grandma had lived alone, and might one day move in with her and Daddy, but this afternoon Emma had the house all to herself, at least for awhile after her chores were done. She again thought of her Grandma Rose, her radiant soft smile, the way her eyes would look at you, so alluring, so sexual, how young she was. Emma felt that fluttery feeling in her tummy again. Her Grandma Rose had had that effect on her. She looked a lot like her Grandma people would say, and Emma liked the compliment. Her Grandma was gorgeous, petite like Emma, with large round breasts, a tapered femininely tiny waist, her hips just right, and slender. She’d walk in such a way that men would trip over themselves as she passed. Rose looked much younger than her years, and was a really very beautiful woman, Emma thought. Emma hoped she’s be as beautiful when she grew up as her grandma. She remembered how her Grandma Rose had touched her sensitive nipple, the glint in her grandma’s eyes, and Emma’s little pussy was slippery again, her breasts suddenly hot as she wrapped her fingers around the trunk of wood in her little hands, slid them down its length, her fingers sliding over each successive ridge. Emma touched one hand between her legs, feeling herself through her dress, the curved smooth stick pressed between her young bosom, closing her eyes as she slid it’s huge tip to her lips, the overwhelming sensation causing her eyes to flutter knowing what she would do with this thing in secret. She’d already been looking for shapes like this, even if she was unaware she was. Maybe that’s why she got slippery when she saw it there in the trunk. The perfect shape with the most wicked bulges she thought hotly, her eyes widening as she felt that butterfly feeling in her tummy, and the buttery feeling between her legs again, thinking of her father, his cock hard under her, her draped over his lap as he spanked her, her wishing, wanting her Daddy to touch her. *** In retrospect Reverend Joshua knew he’d unconsciously been looking for an excuse, any excuse to be closer to his little girl. Closer wasn’t quite accurate. They were, close. He and his daughter had a wonderfully close relationship. He’d gone too long without relief though, and his cock was taking him over. Springboard-hard at the slightest provocation, his nerves on edge. He was like a wild animal, a beast. Brimming with confidence, power, his testosterone levels peaked, his body a lightning rod. Emma had noticed her father’s edge; it excited her and scared her at the same time. He got like this occasionally. She’d see him looking at her like he was a wild untamed beast, and she was his prey. She didn’t entirely understand what it was that came over her father in moments like this. Or what came over her. The compelling sense she wanted to submit to that power, her want to have him over her, above her, to be utterly female to his masculine maleness. She didn’t realize his body was the same as hers, that without relief, her body too would feel like it would explode if she didn’t touch herself, let herself cum, that this sexual rage had built to an explosive overwhelming place in her father, too. Joshua had been feeling guilty that his thoughts were so frequently the devils temptations. Almost minute by minute this last week, or two, his thoughts playing through images of his little girl. Images that now had become entire scenes playing through his heated imagination. Scenes becoming more, and more aggressive, of just taking his little Emma. It was early in the morning. Emma was still in her nightgown. Reverend Joshua kept watching her, looking at her as she moved about the small cabin, doing her usual morning preparations. Emma had noticed her father had awakened with an erection, a throbbing, seething aching hard erection protruding under his calve length white cotton sleeping gown. Something in him snapped. Sitting on the edge of his unmade bed, his voice deep, a snarl almost, he at first seemingly calmly called Emma over to him. He had rationalized his daughter was teasing him in her nightgown, her swaying jostling breasts, her long hair, her young tender hips. Even though this morning was no different than any other morning, she was especially provocative, her breasts so full and firm and jutting out under the thin soft cotton nightdress, her naked form, her sleepy fragrance, something, everything about her, her pheromones in every particle of air around him. Emma sensed all was not all right. She looked like a deer in the sights of a wolf. Partially stunned, she gingerly walked over to her father. Before she could say, “Yes, Papa?” he’d grabbed her by her wrist. She saw his eyes look at her breasts shake and jiggle with the violent pull on her arm, her tender little body under her gown, her beautiful long hair wavy and messy having just woken up; to Reverend Joshua, she had that look of a woman wanting to be fucked, and his erection bounced and swayed standing hugely erect under his white gown. Emma noticed her father’s gown unbuttoned to the middle of his chest, his chest hair, the strength of his neck, the hardness of his collar bone. She saw him, handsome, powerful, sensual. In that fraction of an instant, she felt her little pussy become slippery, her body alight. She hadn’t said a word, her mouth hanging open at the suddenness of her father’s taking her wrist, before he’d pulled her off balance, pulled her toward him, and in a surprisingly fluid movement had wrangled her over his legs, over his lap, her belly and breasts over his muscular thighs. His big hand around her wrist pulled her to him, her arm over his thigh his hip, behind him, against him, to him, and holding her there like she was paper light, the heat of their bodies, the warmth through their nightgowns searing into each other's naked arousal. So surprised, her eyes wide, she tried to look back at her father’s face to see his eyes, to get him to see her as he let go of her wrist, her fingers of both hands steadying herself on the floor, as he then pressed down hard between her shoulders with his left hand hot on her skin through her gown. She felt him pull her by her thigh closer against him on his broad lap with the other, her little bottom high in the air over her father's lap. Her father hadn’t spanked her in some time. She hadn’t done anything, purposeful or not in a while. Yet she knew he was about to spank her, and it excited her whether or not she'd done anything to deserve it. She welcomed it actually. Had missed it. That erotic charge, draped over her father’s lap, his hold on her like a wild beast. Her nipples were hot and ached. Hs power overwhelming, sexual, erotic. She felt it. How couldn’t she? Her father was hard. She’d seen his huge cock under his gown before he’d even grabbed her wrist. It all happened so fast. She felt her father’s hugely swollen, rigid hard cock pressing into her belly. She could sense everything about him tense. She looked back at him. He was looking at her bottom. She felt so undignified before she even realized she was raising her bottom to her father’s glare. She watched him raise his arm. Her little cunny gushed. Her father’s cock swelled, jumped, throbbed under her. The pain was so great, that first clap of her father’s big hand on her bottom, the side of her bottom, the side of her upper thigh. She jumped and bounced and he pulled her tighter still. The second landed squarely on her right cheek, furthest from him. The third, nearly in the same place. Neither of them spoke. She didn’t ask why. He didn’t offer an answer. She began crying, tears streaming down her cheeks, her little cunny gushing, creamy wet, her nipples aching, her entire body wanting touch, her father's cock raging under her, her bottom on fire. The fourth clap resonated throughout the small cabin. Emma’s entire body jumped from the jolting shock. She cried out. Emma lost track at that point. She could hear the cracks, the pops, the slapping sounds of her father’s hand now as hot as her glowing red bottom under her gown. Her tears ran hot down her cheeks. Her little pussy hummed and was dripping hot wet. She could hear his breathing, feel his heat, his sweat in the heat of the cabin. She heard him groan. His cock was rock hard. Her little cunny was dripping wet. She couldn’t almost believe she’d cum several times. Her father tried to suppress his groan. She felt his cock spasming under her. Her gown become damp under her belly. The spanking stopped. Them both staying there for several long minutes. Both breathing hard and hot before Joshua helped his daughter stand, barely able to look his little girl in the eyes. Emma wanted to tell her father, she’d cum, that he’d made her cum, three, four times. That she wanted more. *** Emma knew her grandmother was different. She had overheard the gossips talk about her Grandma, the church-ladies the same age as her beautiful Grandma, how they whispered with tightened lips as Emma and her father passed by, that she had been possessed by the devil, that she was an evil, wicked woman who threw herself at men, a “wanton slut” one old woman in town had said. Emma grew angry. Emma thought of her grandma as being a “free spirit” not evil and wicked, but maybe the old-ladies were right? Maybe she was wicked like her Grandma, and if so, so be it. These feelings in her were something she didn't want to hide, conceal, deny. Holding the smooth rounded phallus in her tiny hands, Emma was suddenly worried that the devil was in her, too, that he must be, why else would such a little girl be so wet between her legs? Why else would she want to kiss the wooden thing in her little hands, lick it, rub it between her swollen breasts. Why else would her nipples ache and her breasts swell as they did? Why else would she not be able to stop herself from touching herself every chance she could? Why else would she daydream about being back in bed at night so she could raise her breasts to her own mouth, imagining her Daddy, her own father, in bed with her? Why else would she become so wet watching heathen animals rutting on the farm? Emma licked the wooden phallus in her tiny hands, taking a deep breath, and on the exhale, whispered, “Mmmm, Dadddyyy, want you, in my mouth, Papa. Let me” she moaned as she brushed the smooth wooden phallus across her trembling lips, over her glowing hot flushed cheeks. She must be possessed, she thought, Satan must he in her too, making her little cunny wet with desire for her own father and making it feel so good. She knew it was wrong, that it was the devil’s doing, but she couldn’t stop herself, wasn’t at all sure she wanted to stop herself. Emma licked the shiny smooth knob of the wooden thing, opened her little mouth, closed her eyes, saw herself kneel in front of her father as he sat in his big chair, saw herself lower her mouth over him as she slid the knob into her wet little mouth. She decided she’d have to pray a lot if she used this thing in her, if she slid it inside her little cunny, if she continued to imagine her father’s kisses, his tongue, his... cock. If she slid it inside her, she would be inviting the devil inside her body, and she wasn’t sure how to get him back out, whether she wanted him out. She began sucking on the knob, instinctively, letting it slip slowly wet in and out of her little mouth. Emma touched her seething hot little cunny through her dress. She pictured her father standing before her, his hands in her hair, guiding her, teaching her how to please him *** After finding the smooth wooden stick, little Emma wasn’t sure if she’d be able to wait until that night to try it. She could barely stand waiting to get her chores done so she could slip into the cabin, and try her new toy. She even stood and watched the big bull’s cock slide inside the heifer out by the barn; she watched disbelieving, that huge solid thing, wet and shiny, could go so deep inside the young female cow, her swollen sex, slide so effortlessly in and out, spreading the flesh of the girl cow open. She shuddered with a gush of creamy slipperiness squeezing her legs together, "Nnnn, ohhh god" she hummed, almost doubled over, her little cunny so on fire. Seeing the heifer’s look of total pleasure, her total abandon pressing back into the huge bull’s lunges Emma felt the rush of excitement, the slippery wetness, imagined herself sliding the carved wooden implement, this huge thing inside her little cunny. She imagined her father behind her, his hugely swollen cock, her nipples tingling and her breasts swelling, his opening his gown, his lifting hers, his big fingers marking her tender hips, him bending her over. Little Emma knew she couldn’t wait until that night. The days heat and her imagination were making her almost faint with her naughty wicked thoughts; the devil had her now, she knew, she was wicked too, just like her grandma. If she was, well, so be it the little girl resigned herself. The minute she saw it there in the attic, the minute she wrapped her little fingers around its girth, she knew what it was for; she had seen the farm animals doing it, and she tingled all over, her heart racing, her eyes big as saucers. She knew it would feel better than her fingers because it could go deeper. Emma wanted it deeper. She saw herself, her legs spread wide, her guiding this thick thing to her seething, glowing, hot little cunny. The wickedness of it all caused her a shiver, and she tingled all over and shuddered all the way up her spine. Her entire body singing, tingling, in want of something, "this thing” she breathed, squeezing it in her hot little hands. Even though she felt her thoughts were bad, she wanted it, she wanted to kiss it, she wanted to feel it in her mouth again. She must resist, she told herself again. Daddy will know what to do. If I can’t control myself, if I don’t have the strength to stop Satan, Daddy will know what to do. He’ll cast the devil out of me, he’ll send the wickedness away. I’ll try it just this once, and if the devil has me, Papa will know what to do. She knew, when she finished her chores, when she could, she would go into the cabin while Daddy was still out plowing, that he wouldn’t be back for hours. She didn’t want her father to get upset that she hadn’t done her chores when he came back in from working so hard in the fields, but the entire time she did them all she could think about was sliding the rounded hunk of smooth wood inside her hot little pussy. Her fingers were wonderful, but they weren’t enough anymore. She intended to slide this hunk of veined hard wood, smooth worn and ribbed from use from her own grandma’s cunny for all these years, since she was Emma’s age, clenching around it, this, dare she say it, cock, inside her little pussy, just as soon as she finished her chores. Emma’s couldn’t believe how wet she was, and raced to finish feeding the goats and chickens. As she came around the barn she saw the bull eyeing another of the little heifers. The little girl almost melted right there seeing the older experienced bull mount the young female. She could barely breath as she watched the bull slide inside the young girl cow, to her mooing satisfaction. An image of Emma’s father flashed through Emma’s heated thoughts. Little Emma imagined the wooden phallus going inside her as she fell back against the barn, as she pressed her fingers into her little cunny through her dress. She imagined her father’s cock sliding inside her, and little Emma almost came right there. “Help me, feels so good” she breathed out, rocking her little hips into her hands, “want, something, in me, want it...” she trailed off, “in me” as she watched the bull humping into the heifer, the crooning girl-cow. She squeezed her aching breasts, her eyes closed, moaning and mewling, so hot, her little cunny on fire. She pictured the wooden phallus, inside under her mattress, and she knew it’s what she wanted, and she knew the devil must be inside her she worried, but she didn’t know what to do, the impulse to touch herself was so strong, the desire to slide that wooden thing inside her beyond her ability to control herself. Daddy would know what to do, she sighed. The image of the bull and of her father intermingling, the wooden phallus, her Daddy the older bull, sliding, inside her, into her, her wet little bare smooth slit. Emma could barely breathe, didn’t breathe, her eyes fluttering, her pussy clenching warm and slippery, wanting something, inside her. “Nnnn, Papa” Emma moaned, “Daddy, in me, Daddy.” It must be Satan making her feel these things, tempting her; she should resist it, him, I’m the minister’s little girl after all. I more than anyone should be able to resist the devil and his wickedness. Yet even as she struggled with these thoughts, she knew she would do more than just rub the rounded head of the long smooth curved stick against her slippery pink sex under the covers. She would do more than just slide it between her pressed together breasts, something else the devil had shown her in her thoughts she could do with it. She would do more than kiss it, like she kissed her dolls pretending. This was much more than her fingers pleasuring her little pussy, and she was almost frantic to try. She'd slide it like a big finger over her tender little virgin folds. She’d get it all wet with herself like she did with her fingers. She'd slide it inside herself, into the place inside that tingled for something, this thing, this big smooth thick thing, that place her fingers couldn’t reach, the place she wanted her father to touch. “No! she told herself, “No devil, stop it! Get out of me, Satan!” She stood up from leaning against the barn, straightened her work dress, tried to gather herself. Still though, as she walked from the barn her thoughts crept back to the phallus, and to the bull still sliding that huge thing into the crooning cow, that thing, the bull and her Daddy, and she returned to planning how she would slip the phallus insider her, unable to suppress her wicked thoughts. Images of that thing sliding up inside her, of her spreading her legs for it, stripping off her work clothes, sweaty hot, raising her nightdress, in anticipation, thinking what she was going to do, her little cunny dripping wet, her nipples fiery and swollen under her dress as she quickened her step, imagining what this thing would feel like sliding through her juices deep inside her. Little Emma was shaken and damp under her dress, beside herself as she broke into a run towards the cabin and toward the thick, smooth ribbed, wicked, naughty thing she desired hidden under her mattress. *** From the open cabin door Reverend Joshua stood frozen. He watched at first in disbelief his little girl from the doorway. His little girl, laying on her bed in the middle of the day. He’d come in from the fields, his body still tingling, his cock like a hair trigger, hardening at almost any thought of his little girl. At first he thought maybe she’d taken ill. Then he realized what he was seeing. Her knees spread impossibly wide, her legs in the air, her toes pointed. His cock twitched. Her pressing against the mattress, raised up on her toes, her eyes closed, her soft shiny wet pussy humping into her tiny wet fingers, her breathing slow and ragged, his little girl naked from the waist down. His cock shifted, filled with blood. Her delicate fingers buried in her pussy. His cock raised inside his overalls. From his accidental vantage at the door he was looking directly at her rounded bottom and her open little cunny, between her pale smooth thighs. His cock was rigid hard in seconds. Her little bald slit spread open, pink and bare, smooth like a wet fresh peach, her creamy pale skin, soft and warm, her tender flesh undulating, beckoning to her father, her breathing, her groans, her mewling kittenish moans pulling him like a moth to flame. His cock, swollen, throbbed, ached for her. Right in that split moment, Joshua felt himself give in to what he knew was the devil in him. Satan was making him fill with an unbridled, irreversible lust, seeing his daughter's hot beautiful little cunt, bald and pure and ripe and ready for cock, even if that beautiful little cunny belonged to his little girl, Emma. She was a woman now, and he had a duty as her father, he told himself, as a man he said inside his rationalizing mind. He felt a flash of anger, of protectiveness. His little girl was being driven by Satan, her legs spread open by Satan, her beautiful pussy exposed to the open room. Her writhing a sure signal of the devil in his little girl, the devil upon her, on top of his little girl, tempting her with his wickedness, licking at her, teasing and torturing his little girl with his devilish hot prick. “Nnnnn, nnnnn, uhhhh" Emma groaned, “mmmmm, nnnnn” his little girl mewled. His cock was pounding. He wrapped his palm over it through his overalls, squeezed, and it raged back. Reverend Joshua began jacking his cock through the fabric of his overalls again, as he had in the field, his little girl moaning and wriggling, humping her bald little cunny into her fingers. Emma’s bed faced out into the front room of the cabin, and Joshua watched his little Emma roll on top of the fluffy quilt, onto her right side, her work dress rumpled on the floor next to her bed and her frilly white thin cotton undertop loose and unlaced to her glowing soft belly. His gaze drawn to her swollen pink nipples pushing their way out from behind the material, making his little baby look like a wanton sexual feast to her Daddy’s sex starved eyes, made his cock ache and throb for her like it had in the field, but this was real, not his imagination. He stood there, jacking his huge hard throbbing cock, watching his little girl masturbate. Himself jacking his hugely hard cock, watching his little girl. Emma groaned and in a quick succession of mewls and moans, breathed out “Nnnnnn, ohhhhh, Papaaaaa, mmm, yesss, touch me, Papaaaa.” His little baby purred, squealed, hummed. The Reverend’s mouth fell open, his eyes wide before he gushed out a breath, squeezed his cock even harder, pulled on his cock even harder. His little girl’s swollen breasts, creamy pale and flush with excitement, her nipples pointed and puffy and swollen bounced and swayed with her motions. From the door Joshua looked up at her, at the undersides of her conical meaty firm breasts standing so her nipples appeared just that much more pointed and tender, capped like enflamed strawberries, and he was overwhelmed with the desire to take her tender little hips in his big hands, her little cunny humping at his thick, hard cock, his head at her chest, his mouth at his little girl’s breasts, squeezing them in his big hands, sucking her exquisite nipples, sucking them, licking them, mouthing them as he looked into little Emma’s face, her eyes, his fingers buried in her beautiful pussy. “Oh sweet mother of Mary” he breathed out more sexually aroused than he’d ever been, aroused by his precious little Emma, his little girl, his daughter. The sun was blazing behind him at the doorway, his cock blazing hard in front of him, like a divining rod, her belly and hips and legs in the shaded cabin so pale and fresh and stunningly tender. Her translucent skin made her seem otherworldly, ripe, glowing, pure, an angel with sexual allure, an allure that tempted him like no other temptation. An ordained man he shouldn’t be looking at his daughter like he was, he knew, but he couldn’t help himself. He should have more restraint than other men, he should be able to control his sexual urges, to stop jacking his seething hard cock, but the devil had Reverend Joshua in his devilish grasp, too. His little girl mesmerizing to look at, her nakedness, her pure nudity writhing on the bed, he stayed there at the door, transfixed, not ten feet from his naked little girl rubbing herself between her open legs. “Nnnnnn, Papaaaa, your dirty girl, Papa” his daughter mewled into the open air, her legs spread perversely wide, her head rolling back and forth, her pushing her humping pussy into her hands, just feet away. “My God, what a vision” the Reverend thought, jacking his hot swollen aching cock, staring at his little girl, suddenly believing he must rescue his little girl from the devil’s grasp, from the devil’s hot smoldering red prick. The Reverend Joshua watched little Emma raise her left thigh holding it there suspended off the bed, her back arched, the small of her curved back tapering from her bottom pressed out, her creamy thighs spread apart, so soft and splayed to her wicked minister Daddy’s gaze. Her baldness divine, her entire smooth female body open and hungry writhing wet and on fire in heat, his cock in his hand through his overalls salivating at the sight of his daughter. Joshua could smell the fragrance of her all the way across the room. It was like warm honey, sweet-cream, apple-butter flowery, a fragrance no man could ever forget, hauntingly beautiful, the smell of pussy a nectar that a man honed in on, desired. He studied his little Emma’s girlish, womanly curves, jerking his huge cock, watching her, her dainty and feminine motions, the way her breasts squeezed between her slender arms, her lovely round shoulders, her hips so tender and ready to be firmly held in a man’s hands. Her sex, Joshua thought to himself, imagining himself on top of his little girl, his long cock inside her, her spread open, her bucking up to meet his thrusts, was ready for an aching swollen cock to slide inside her, a man’s cock, his cock, the devil in both of them, they’d have to heal each other no matter what or how long it took. Emma raised her fingers to her mouth, and slid them inside, sucking, moaning, tasting herself, “Nnnnn, Papa, kiss me, Papa” unaware her father was watching. Next: Chapter II: The Bath *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* The author does not condone child abuse, this story is meant as an erotic fantasy not depicting anything in real life. Anyone acting out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in their local prison system. *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Kristen's collection - Directory 70