Papa, Please Don't Make Me - Ona Dare - E-Book

Papa, Please Don't Make Me E-Book

Ona Dare

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As the Duke of Winslow, it is my duty to marry off my daughter to the first acceptable peer of the realm. It breaks my heart, but it must be done. She is adamantly opposed, and I have to exert my will, but not until after she has well and truly seduced me. But what's to be done? It is already done. She is engaged to be married. And I am bereft.

EXCERPT:
“But why, Papa? I don’t want to marry. Ever!”

“I know you don’t. I would love nothing better than to keep you here with me forever, but you need to marry and provide an heir, darling.”

“Papa, please! I beg of you! Don’t do this to me! I love you so much and I don’t want to go!”

And therein lies the crux of our current situation. I’m in love with my own daughter, and I think she’s in love with me. My poor wife must be rolling in her grave. What a damnable mess. Mostly, incest is accepted in families if it is consensual. But, and this is a big but, if caught, it is criminal and punished harshly by the law. Without an heir, I don’t want to leave my estates in such a turmoil. Marrying her off is the only thing to be done, for the both of us. Perhaps absence will make the difference. Perhaps she will fall in love with the Marquess, and all will be well, though I rather doubt it.

As for me, I think I will just hole up in my study until she’s gone. My heart is breaking.

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by Ona Dare

A Victorian Father Daughter Conundrum

Published by Lot’s Cave

Papa, Please Don't Make Me, © 2021, Ona Dare

Cover by Lot’s Cave

All Rights Reserved

All Characters In This Book Are Age 18 Or Older

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the Lot’s Cave website and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

A Lot’s Cave Novel

www.LotsCave.com

CONTENTS

Papa, Please Don't Make Me

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Other Novels

Incest Erotica

Family Exotica

Author’s Note

 

 

by Ona Dare

1871 Northumbria, England

I am a wretched man. A man so forlorn that I don’t know what to do with myself. I am the Duke of Winslow, and I have just promised my daughter to the Marquess of Shrewsbury. She’s nineteen years old, going on twenty, has been through three seasons, and has refused all proposals of marriage. What was I to do?

This is so unfortunate, and it almost kills me to do it, but the time has come and there is nothing for her to do but accept it.

“But why, Papa? I don’t want to marry. Ever!”

“I know you don’t. I would love nothing better than to keep you here with me forever, but you need to marry and provide an heir, darling.”

“Papa, please! I beg of you! Don’t do this to me! I love you so much and I don’t want to go!”

And therein lies the crux of our current situation. I’m in love with my own daughter, and I think she’s in love with me. My poor wife must be rolling in her grave. What a damnable mess. Mostly, incest is accepted in families if it is consensual. But, and this is a big but, if caught, it is criminal and punished harshly by the law. Without an heir, I don’t want to leave my estates in such a turmoil. Marrying her off is the only thing to be done, for the both of us. Perhaps absence will make the difference. Perhaps she will fall in love with the Marquess, and all will be well, though I rather doubt it.

As for me, I think I will just hole up in my study until she’s gone. My heart is breaking.

Papa is calling me down to dinner because I have so far refused to eat since the news of my engagement. “Blythe, get down here this minute, do you hear me?”

Yes, I hear him. The voice that haunts my dreams but also soothes my soul. Just being near him is enough to make me swoon. I’ve loved him in the wrong way since I was sixteen years old. He’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, so tall and muscular, so darkly sensual. I think Papa could give me what I need. But would the Marquess? I don’t think he would. I’m perverted and have finally accepted the fact. If I marry him, I’ll never be satisfied. But that’s not all of it. I’ll never marry any other man but Papa. Not that we could marry, but it is my deepest fantasy, after all.

Finally, a tray is brought up for my dinner, and Papa is not far behind its delivery.

“Blythe, darling, you must eat! Stop this nonsense and do your duty to your father and his title, do you hear me?”

“Yes, I hear you. But I’m not eating until you relent and get me released from this damnable marriage.”

“You eat your dinner or I’ll thrash you, do you understand?”

Oh, dear God, that was the wrong thing to say to me. I can only stare at him with hot desire in my eyes for having made that particular threat.

Papa stares at me and suddenly interprets the look in my eyes. He knows I want him. He’s always known, and he’s been quite a wretch in not giving in to me. I want him badly. I want everything he has to give and more.

I look down to the fall of his trousers and he is harder than steel. I look back into his eyes and give him a salacious grin.

“By the gods, I will thrash you, daughter!”

Suddenly, the dinner tray is thrown against a wall before he grabs me and rips the gown off my body, along with my under things. Soon I am bent over his lap, waiting anxiously for the first strike on my bottom. The first strike is quite sedate. When I don’t cry out, he strikes me harder. When I still don’t cry out, he begins thrashing me in earnest. My legs open and I lift my bottom in the air, taunting him. Inviting him to continue further.

His phallus is getting harder beneath me every second, and I want it so much. If I could only get Papa excited enough, he would take me and make me his own. That is my goal. That is my dearest wish.

Now I am moaning and mewling for more. It is the wrong thing to do as he stops thrashing my behind and sits still, breathing deeply and groaning. This is my chance.

Sliding off his lap, I unbutton his fall and take my first look at his raging manhood. It’s beautiful, so nice and long, and thick. I take it out of his trousers and promptly put my mouth on it, and it is his undoing. Grabbing me by the hair he begins penetrating my mouth rhythmically, all the time cursing me for a wanton. But I did it. I made it happen.

Now he’s lost in his passion and falls back on my bed. Quickly, before he can rebuff me once again, I straddle his penis and impale myself on it, riding him like a wild horse. I’ll think about the horrible pain later. His body stiffens and he holds his breath while taking my hips in a death grip and emptying himself deep inside me.

“Blythe, you wanton, little slattern! Look what you have done! You’ve ruined everything!”

“Me? I’ve ruined everything? No, Papa, it is you who have ruined every chance for us to live together in love. Do not blame me for this! You know how I feel about you! You know I want you in my bed! You have ruined my life, Papa!

“Do not sing your sorrows to me. It is your fault for not giving your daughter what she needs and wants!”

I am right in his face, yelling at him and poking him in the chest, anything I can do to push him into relenting and making me his own.

The more I push him, the angrier he gets. When he would raise his hand and strike me, he instead growls out a roar of frustration and bends me over the bed.

He’s breathing like a raging bull, growling low and menacing. I’ve got him. He’s ready to finally take me on his own, by choice.

When he spreads my legs far apart, I rejoice. When he thrusts two fingers inside me, I melt into a puddle of need at his touch. When he places his ferociously hard penis at my entrance and shoves with all his might, I wince at the pain but almost immediately want more of it. That is how perverted I am. I am a woman lost.

This is my own fault. I pushed her into pushing me so far that I would never be able to deny her. Her anger and disobedience were the perfect pretense. It worked like a charm. And now I am buried in my daughter’s cunt to the hilt, pounding her ass like a demon…and she loves it…like I knew she would.

She is definitely my daughter, my blood, because I always thought that she would take my punishments with ease. Perhaps even beg for them. I was right. Now what shall I do? She is no longer a virgin and therefore unfit for marriage to peers of the realm. Suddenly, I tense and before I can stop it, I’m ejaculating deep within her. She backs up close to my groin and grinds up and down on my cock, wanting more, no doubt. But I withdraw, right myself, and leave her room. Bloody hell, I have to think about what to do after this debacle!

My valet undresses me and I take to my bed, lying on my back and staring at the ceiling, all I can think about is how it felt to be so deep within my daughter’s sex that I want her again. And again, forever. Could I get her with child and have it be normal? Would it work? If so…well, never mind. It is too fantastical to even contemplate.

I am finally getting sleepy and close my eyes to the bliss of dreamland, where everything is pleasant and possible. Perhaps a solution to our new problem will come to me in such a dream…maybe…