Date: Sun, 29 Nov 2020 23:00:45 +0100 From: Ares Jay Subject: The Prettiest Girl In The World, Chapter 5, (Transgender/Teen) This is a work of fiction that involves graphic sexual acts between underage characters as well as other sexual acts of an incestuous nature. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author. For further information, please contact aresjay@protonmail.com. Copyright © 2020 Ares Jay Remember, your donations allow everyone to enjoy this and other stories. Please consider a donation to Nifty.org (http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html) THE PRETTIEST GIRL IN THE WORLD By Ares Jay CHAPTER FIVE - BLOODLINE After Emma had seen Dennis off to school, she had changed his bed linen. She had smiled at the semen stains on the sheets and had felt happy for her son. Heading downstairs again, she prepared a bit more breakfast for her father who had just gotten out of the shower. As Jack entered the kitchen, he sent his daughter a warm smile and bent down and kissed her lips. Emma took in the lovely familiar scent of his cologne and savored the sweet taste of her father's lips against hers. She fixed him a plate of waffles and poured him a cup of coffee. "It's so good having you here, daddy." "Yes, it's been way too long, pumpkin," her father smiled as he sipped the coffee. Emma slid a hand across the table and interlocked her fingers with her father's. The father and daughter shared a look so deeply saturated with love that it would make most love stories pale in comparison. "About last night, daddy," Emma said, "Thank you so much for letting me make love to him. I can't begin to tell you how much it meant to me." "I know," her father said, kissing her hand, "It was so beautiful finally seeing the two of you together." Emma looked down. She knew that she had to tell her father about what had happened between her and her son this morning while bathing together. "What's wrong?" "I..." Emma hesitated, "Please don't be upset, daddy." "What is it, pumpkin?" "I made love to him again this morning." Emma lifted her gaze to meet her father's eyes. She feared the worst but he just sent her a disarming smile. "That's fantastic." Emma wasn't sure if she had heard him correct and her father laughed at the puzzled look on her face. He kissed her hand again and smiled. "I think it's fantastic, pumpkin." "You do?" "Yeah, I truly do," Jack told her, "Look, I've been thinking." "About what, daddy." "That it's time. We need to plan ahead, pumpkin. We need to start thinking about the future." "Okay." Emma didn't know exactly what he had meant by that but when her father started talking about the future and planning ahead, she had learned to pay attention a long time ago. "I'm not gonna be around forever --" "Is something wrong with you, daddy?" Emma interrupted, suddenly alarmed by his words. "No no," he reassured her with a chuckle, "Nothing's wrong with me but I'm not getting any younger." "You're only Fifty-Five," Emma argued. "Yes, but you're still a young woman," Jack said and smiled, "Maybe you'll find someone, maybe you'll get married again one day, maybe you won't. Who knows? Look, I know how much you love children." "What are you getting at, daddy?" Emma asked. "What I'm getting at here, pumpkin - and not doing a very good job at it," her father chuckled, "is that you can still have another child." "Oh." "Would you like another child?" "Of course, daddy," Emma blurted out. Emma loved being a mother and had always wanted as many children as possible, but after her divorce she had not thought that she would give birth to any more children. Hearing her father speaking about another child, though, made her reevaluate those thoughts. "Pumpkin, I cannot think of a better person for you to have a child with than Dennis." Emma swallowed and felt her heart skip a beat. She felt warm all of a sudden and was sure than she was blushing. Her father gave her hand a gentle squeeze and Emma looked up at him. "Are you sure, daddy?" "I've never been more sure about anything in my life, pumpkin." Emma had only been twenty-three when she had gotten married, twenty-four when she had given birth to Dennis. Moving away from her father and starting a new life with her husband, had been incredibly hard for her. Her father hadn't really approved of Morgan, her husband-to-be, but Emma had completely fallen for him at a party at a friend's house. They had started dating shortly after that and though her father hadn't been overly impressed with the young man, he had eventually given his blessing. Emma had been terribly nervous on the day of her wedding but her father had been such rock at her side, and he had given her the best gift any daughter could had ever asked for on her wedding day. It had been quite a change for Emma being a married woman. There were certain responsibilities as a wife, norms to live up to and unwritten rules to follow. She had quickly learned that she could no longer be the free spirit she had always been and although their honeymoon had been wonderful, things had rapidly fallen into a steady routine that she hadn't enjoyed as much as she had thought she would. Emma and Morgan had been wed at a beautiful old church with all their friends and family in attendance. She had been so anxious when she had arrived at the church because she had known that this would be her last day as her father's little girl. Even though she had been dating Morgan for almost a year, she had still lived with her father and the thought of moving in with Morgan had scared her a bit. For the first time in her life, she would no longer be under her father's loving protection. Morgan had not been a wealthy man by any stretch of the imagination and Emma's father had graciously bought a house for them. It was only about a thirty-minute drive from her father's house but in Emma's mind, it might as well have been on the other side of the country. As per tradition, she had spent the day before away from Morgan. Waking up that final time in the bed she had slept in since she had been a child, had been heartbreaking. Emma had cried but her father had folded an arm around her and had held her against his chest as they had laid there in bed. They had made love the night before. It had been so beautiful and passionate and although Emma had truly cared deeply for Morgan, she had known deep down that he could never love her - or make love to her - the way her father did. They had laid there in each other's arms, neither of them saying anything, just enjoying their final time together as father and daughter. Her father had bought her the most gorgeous white wedding dress and had brought in a delightful hairdresser and a superb stylist. Both of them had worked wonders and when Emma had seen herself in the mirror, dress on, hair and makeup done, she had looked like the most beautiful bride the world had ever seen - at least, that's what her father had told her. He had rented a lovely limousine and together they had driven to the church. Emma had clutched her father's hand during the entire drive and when they had arrived at the church, her knees had been trembling. They had been escorted into an elegant waiting chamber and had enjoyed a glass of champagne and strawberries while they waited for all the guests to arrive. Her father had been so sweet and calming. He had held her hand and hugged her when she had needed the extra comfort of his embrace. Emma hadn't wanted her father to ever let go of her at that moment. "I'm scared, daddy," she had said. "I know but you're gonna be fine, pumpkin," her father had told her and had kissed her cheek. "I'll miss you so much, daddy." Her father had held her face in his warm palms and had kissed her lips. "I'll always be here for you and you'll always be my little girl." Emma had seen the genuine love in her father's eyes. His words had had a soothing effect on her heart and she had felt so blessed that he had been there for her. When she had leaned in and had kissed his lips, the passion they had both felt, had quickly escalated the whole situation. Her father's hands had cupped her breasts and Emma had purred at the lovely familiar touch. Her hand had instinctively slid down to his crotch and she hadn't been surprised to feel how hard he had been. Her father had lifted up her dress as Emma had unzipped his fly and had pulled out his hard cock. Emma hadn't been wearing any panties - her father had told her not to - and the stylist had done such a beautiful job of shaving her vagina completely smooth, just like had it been when she had been born. Her father had sat down on a chair and Emma, holding up her wedding dress, had straddled him. His cock had felt so vibrant and gorgeous as it had glided into her excited pussy. Knowing that this could potentially be the last time they would ever make love, neither of them had held back their emotions. Her father had huffed and Emma had cried out loudly in pleasure as she had savored the feeling of her father's swollen cock. She hadn't cared if anyone had heard her scream out in joy, she had wanted everyone to know how much she loved her father. There had been a knock on the door but they had both ignored it. Neither of them had wanted the moment to end, they had been too caught up in each other's love. Emma had felt her father's grip on her waist tighten and had heard his breathing become strained. There had been another knock on the door but they had not heard it. When her father had clenched his eyes shut and she had felt his wonderful semen shoot up into her, she had immediately cried out as the most gorgeous orgasm had reverberated through her body. They had sat there in the chair for a minute or so, both struggling to come down from the magnificent high they had just experienced. Another knock on the door - this time more persistent - had brought both of them back to reality. Emma had kissed her father and had gently climbed off his cock. She had straightened her dress while her father had struggled to put his semi-hard penis back into his pants. "Come in," Emma had said. An assistant pastor had opened the door and had looked inside. The old man had had a perplexed look on his face when his eyes had shifted from Emma to her father. Emma felt certain that the man had heard them and that his mind had probably been adding two and two together. Nevertheless, the assistant pastor had looked to Emma. "It's time." The church organist had played the traditional tune when her father had led Emma down the aisle. She had seen Morgan standing there at the altar, looking so happy to see his bride-to-be. Emma had smiled when her father had handed her over to Morgan - not because she had been about to be married but because she had felt her father's semen run down her thighs. Emma had been very happy and excited when she had found out that she was pregnant. She had missed her period only a week after the wedding and while her father had been very happy for her, Morgan had not been overly enthusiastic about the news. He had at one point asked her to have an abortion but Emma had vehemently refused. Her father had fully supported her and had gone out of his way to make her pregnancy as marvelous as possible. He had made sure that she was cared for by the best doctors at the best clinics. He had taken her to her own private Lamaze classes and had continuedly bought her the finest maternity clothing that money could buy. When Emma had gone into labor, it had been her father, not Morgan, who had been at her side in the delivery room, holding her hand and soothing her while she had given birth to Dennis. The child had looked so beautiful when the nurse had placed him on her chest and both Emma and her father had shed tears of joy at the sight of the little innocent boy. Dennis had been terribly colicky as a baby. It had started right after she and Morgan had brought him home from the hospital, the poor child would just cry his little heart out all day long. Morgan had not been much help at all. He would usually come home from work in the afternoon, grab something to eat and then hurry down to the bar to hang out with his friends. Emma hadn't minded that Morgan had spent a few evenings with his friends but it had quickly become a daily thing and she had just been so tired during the evenings, just wanting to get some rest. Morgan would usually come home late at night after she had finally gotten Dennis to fall asleep. Sometimes he would be too noisy and had woken up the child and then scolded the little boy for crying. Other times he would be drunk and demand sex from Emma even though her genitals had still been healing after giving birth. On those few occasions, where Emma had told him no, Morgan had usually just forced her onto her back and had practically raped her while their child had been crying in the crib next to them. Fortunately, it had rarely taken him long to climax but it had still made Emma feel absolutely worthless. On one particular evening, when Dennis had been about a month old, he had been particular colicky and Emma had not been able to make him stop crying. She had tried everything, had sung to him, comforted him, caressed him but nothing had worked. Emma had checked his diaper but there had only been pee in it. She had laid the child on the changing table and had let him lie there for a few moments with no diaper on, just to give him some air down there. To her horror, Emma had realized that they had run out of baby powder. She had searched and searched but had not been able to find any. Emma had breathed a sigh of relief when she had instead found a small bottle of baby oil instead. Applying a bit to her hand, rubbing them together to warm the oil, she had gently smeared the oil against Dennis' inner thighs, circling his tiny testicle pouch. The boy had stopped crying for a brief second before wailing again. Emma had applied more oil to the child's groin and had slipped a finger in between the boy's fleshy buttocks and had rubbed a bit of oil against her son's anus. The child had immediately gone silent when her finger had rubbed against his anus opening and a puzzled, almost mesmerized look had befallen his face. Emma had down up in surprise at the sudden silence, holding her slippery finger against the boy's anus. Dennis had just looked back at her, and when she had slowly let her finger circle his anal opening, she could have sworn that she had seen a hint of a smile on his face. Emma had picked the boy up and had taken him to her bed. He had started crying again when she had laid him down next to her but she had quickly put a hand between his legs and had started massaging his little anus again. Again, the boy had gone quiet and had shortly after that sought out her nipple. Emma had continued massaging his anus while he had fed on her breast, and it hadn't taken him long to fall into a peaceful sleep. When Dennis had cried again the next evening, Emma had again applied the oil massage to his anus. It had had the same effect as the night before but this time Emma had noticed that the child's tiny penis had become erect when she had touched him. The little erection had made Emma smile but she had known that it had just been an involuntary reflex on her son's part. She had brushed a pair of oiled fingers against it and had been surprised at how rigid it had been. Strictly out of curiosity, Emma had gently folded the child's foreskin back and found her son's little swollen glans. It hadn't been much bigger than Emma's own clitoris. She had rubbed an oiled finger against the back of the glans and had felt the little penis tighten against her finger. Dennis had clearly liked being massaged there as well and Emma had shifted her massage from his anus to his penis and back to his anus. Over the next few days, Emma had learned that massaging Dennis' anus was the best way to get him to sleep, and that had quickly become a standard part of their nightly routine. When she would massage his little penis, he would always go quite and typically start smiling, so she had used that technique during the day if he was unhappy. Those nights, alone in bed with her child sucking on her hard nipple, had sometimes been frustrating for Emma. Morgan would rarely satisfy her sexual needs, for him it was all about getting off as quickly as possible, so lying there, with her son's warm and generous mouth around her engorge nipple, had often stimulated her. Fondling her son's little hard erection hadn't made it any easier on her. Emma had of course known better than to act on her arousal but sometimes she just couldn't help herself. Sometimes she would let her hand glide down between her legs while she had been breastfeeding Dennis. She had tried to convince herself that her pussy wouldn't be wet, or that she would hate touching herself while her little child breastfed, but her pussy would always be soaking, her vaginal lubrication already forming a wet spot on the sheets. The first time Emma had masturbated herself while Dennis had been sucking on her nipple, she had absolutely hated herself. Hated how she had taken advantage of her son's need for her breast, hated that her nipple had tickled so lovely as his gums had squeezed the milk out of her. But most of all, she had hated the wonderful sensation that her powerful orgasm had sent through her shivering body. Realizing what she had done, Emma had felt tears of shame sting her eyes. She hadn't been able to understand or rationalize what she had done and she had repeatedly whispered "I'm so sorry, sweetie" into her son's ear. The boy hadn't even reacted at her words, he had just continued feeding on his mother's breast. Emma had felt so confused afterwards and she had made a promise to herself that she would never, ever do that again. She had tried her best to keep that promise but a week later, the urges had overwhelmed her again and she had massaged her hard clitoris again. Emma had caught herself thinking about her son's little hard penis and had desperately tried to push it from her mind. She had failed miserable and had quickly achieved the most wonderful orgasm. After she had masturbated a fifth time while breastfeeding Dennis, Emma had realized that there had been really nothing she could do about it anymore. She had still hated that she had to resort to that kind of self-pleasure but had taken comfort in the fact that her lovely child had been oblivious to her masturbation. Emma had continued massaging Dennis even after he had stopped being colicky. It had just brought so much joy to them both that she hadn't been able to break the routine, nor had she wanted to. Emma had always loved dressing up her dolls in different outfits as a little girl and maybe she had been thinking back on her own childhood, or maybe it had been the motherly hormones now inhabiting her body, but shortly before Dennis had had his first birthday, she had gotten the idea that maybe she could dress Dennis up. She hadn't known a lot about boy's clothing back then - and it still didn't interest her one bit - so she had always bought him girl's clothing. Emma had always been really good with a thread and needle and had often made her own clothes for Dennis. This had been especially true for the kind of clothing she hadn't been able to buy for her child. One early afternoon, when she had been about to change Dennis' diaper, she had taken off all of his clothes and had laid him on the changing table. "Mommy has some new clothes for you, sweetie," she had told her son. Dennis had just babbled off some of his usual baby-talk while chewing on one of his mother's bracelets that she had always let him play with while changing his diaper. Emma had brought out the first items of clothing; a tiny pair of pink thigh-high nylon stockings with lace tops that she had made herself. She had smiled down at her little son and had felt her heart beat a little faster when she had lifted one of his legs and gently put on the first nylon stocking. The lace top had been a snug fit around his fleshy thigh but had been loose enough to not be uncomfortable. Emma had held up her child's other foot and had slipped the second nylon stocking on him. She had stared down at him and had thought the nylon stockings had looked great on him. Dennis had been very curious about the strange material now covering his legs and had tried to put a foot into his mouth. Emma had chuckled and had taken the opportunity to apply baby oil to her fingers and had started massaging Dennis' tiny anus. The boy had quickly forgotten about the stockings and had just laid there, all relaxed and happy, as his mother had gently rubbed a finger against his anal opening. When Dennis had almost drifted off to sleep, Emma had grabbed the matching pair of lace thong that she had also sewn herself. The thong had been a little more difficult to put on Dennis - especially because her son's penis had gotten erect while she had massaged his anus - but also getting the thin strip in between his buttocks had been difficult, but she had eventually managed. Emma hadn't worried about not putting a diaper on him, she felt that it would have ruined the look. She had then sat him up and had held him secure as she had gotten out the third item that she had made for him; a miniature bra. The pink little lace bra had been a perfect fit on him. Obviously, there had been nothing to fill out the tiny cups but the rounded cut had looked marvelous on him. Emma had adjusted the shoulder straps and had tightened the band on his back. As her little son had sat there in his gorgeous nylon stockings, thong and bra, Emma's eyes had almost filled with tears at how beautiful he had looked. She had then put a lovely little dress on him that she had bought a couple of days earlier. Her son had genuinely looked like a little girl. But something had been missing she had felt. Emma had picked up Dennis and had carried him over to her vanity. She had not wanted to put make-up on him because she had known that he would just wipe it off, but she had found a couple of flowery barrettes and had fixed them in his hair so that it had looked more like a girl's haircut. Next, she had found an adjustable bracelet and had slipped it on her son's wrist. Looking at him now, she hadn't been able to tell that he was really a boy. She had given him a great big hug and had put his pink pacifier into his mouth. They had taken a walk a little later and Emma had proudly pushed her little "daughter" around in the stroller. As the months had passed, Emma had bought and made more clothes for her son. She had always been careful not to show it to Morgan and had generally dressed Dennis in boy's clothing whenever her husband had been around - which, fortunately, hadn't been too often. She would often take Dennis for a walk in the stroller and they would sometimes go to the playground where Dennis would play with "other" girls. The mothers Emma had met and spoken to, had not suspected that her child was really a boy and they had always treated him as a girl. She had still massaged her son to sleep, even after he had had his first birthday, and she had hated when Morgan would come home during the night, reeking of booze and demanding to have sex with her while the child slept next to them. Emma had usually just turned on her side and had let Morgan do whatever he wanted. She had always tried her best not to wake the boy as he slept cuddled up next to her, but sometimes it had hurt so bad when Morgan had rammed his hard cock up in her ass, that she had had to bite into her pillow in order not to wake him. All in all, though, it had been a magnificent time for Emma and her son. Alas, disaster had struck one night. It had been about a month after Dennis' first birthday, Emma had awoken suddenly when Morgan's powerful hands had shaken awake from a peaceful rest. Emma had been groggy from sleep but the venom she had seen in Morgan's eyes had startled her. "What the fuck is this?" he had hissed in her face. "Wh-what?" Emma had stuttered. Then it had dawned on her. Dennis had been lying next to and during the night, the one-year-old child had apparently kicked off his blanket. That, in itself, would obviously not be a problem, but before going to bed that evening, Emma had forgotten to put the pajama on the boy. Dennis had been wearing a gorgeous pair of lace nylons, that Emma had sewn herself, and a matching bra. He hadn't been wearing any panties because Emma had massaged his anus as she had usually done - and her hand had still been resting between the child's legs. "What the fuck is going on here?" Morgan had hissed again. Emma had swallowed and had immediately removed her hand. "I'm so sorr-" That was all Emma had managed to say before Morgan's fist had smashed against her jaw. Emma had seen stars and the whole room had begun spinning. She had felt Morgan hands tear her nighty open and had heard him rip her panties in two. "Are you turning my boy into a little slut?" Morgan had hissed into her ear. It had surprised Emma that he hadn't been screaming at her. Yes, there had been utter hatred in his voice but he had still kept it low. "Is that what you're doing, you whore?" Another punch had nearly knocked her unconscious and Emma had only barely felt it when Morgan's cock had rammed into her pussy. "Is he gonna be a little slut like his mom, huh?" Emma had regained her bearings a little and had felt how Morgan's cock had torn in and out of her like a jackhammer. She had hated his ferocity, hated how he had demeaned her with his actions and his words, hated that his cock had felt fantastic inside of her, hated the orgasm he had given her. "You're a little whore," Morgan had hissed, "And he's a little slut, ain't he?" "No, he's not," Emma had managed to whisper as the orgasm had surged through her body. "He's a slut like his whore mother and he's gonna have to know what that means." Emma had felt Morgan yank his hard cock out of her. He had shoved her to the side and had knelt next to the little sleeping boy in the lingerie. Emma had seen Morgan aim his throbbing cock at the child's face and had reached out for her son but it had been too late. Morgan had ejaculated wildly, shooting rope after rope of cum at the little defenseless boy. The first rope had splashed into the Dennis' peaceful face, startling him awake. Emma had grabbed the boy's arm and had tried to pull him away but Morgan had pushed away. Dennis had immediately starting crying and Morgan had taken advantage of the child's open mouth. Two quick squirts of Morgan's thick semen had shot into the boy's little mouth and Dennis had immediately started gagging. Emma had thrown herself over him as a protective shield. She had heard her husband huff behind her and had felt warm strands of semen hit her back. Dennis had been crying uncontrollably underneath her but Emma hadn't dared move. It wasn't until she heard Morgan slump back, trying to catch his breath, that she finally dared a peek at him. "That's the price he pays for being a slut like his mother," Morgan had said while squeezing the last few drops of semen out onto the bed sheet. Emma had been prepared for another beating but Morgan had just laid down in bed, pulled the covers over him and had gone to sleep. Emma had taken the crying boy into the living room and had laid him at her breast in order to calm him down. As Dennis had fed on her nipple, Emma had carefully wiped the semen from his face, using her torn nighty as a cloth. She had thought about getting in her car and drive over to her father's house but had eventually decided to crawl back into bed. She had given the boy his pacifier and Dennis had fallen asleep in her arms shortly after. Morgan hadn't mentioned what had happened the next day but he had sodomized Emma twice before going off to work. Although her anus had been sore for most of the day, Emma had been happy that Morgan hadn't brought up last night's incident. She had spent a lovely day with Dennis at the playground and the boy had not seemed affected by what had happened. The mood at dinner had been quite tense though and not a lot of words had been spoken before Morgan had finally opened up. "How long have you been dressing him like that?" Dennis had been in his boy's clothing but Emma knew that it hadn't been his current attire that Morgan had been referring to. "Does is really matter?" she had replied. "Guess not," Morgan had said and had taken a sip from his beer. "But he really likes wearing it. You should see how he smiles when I put it on him." Emma had seen her husband's jaw muscles tighten. Morgan had looked over at the boy across the table who had been playing with a carrot. "The boy's only a year old, you stupid whore, he doesn't know what he's wearing." "Please don't call me that," Emma had said. "What the hell were your hand doing between his legs?" Emma had swallowed, unsure how she should tackle that question. "And why was he all oiled up down there?" Morgan had persisted. "It goes back to when he was colicky..." "But he's not anymore, you cunt." "I know, but it really helps him relax." "What does?" Morgan had pressed. Emma had sighed. "When I..." "When you...what?" "When I massage his tush." Morgan had almost choked on his beer. He had looked from the little boy to his wife with disbelief in his eyes. Emma had wringed her hands beneath the table. "His tush?" Emma had nodded. "And only his tush?" Emma had bowed her head, not replying to the question. "Jesus Christ, Emma," Morgan said when he realized what his wife's silence had meant, "You can go to jail for that. They can take away the boy." "But he really likes it. And I only do it when he's unhappy." "Listen to yourself, woman." "You have to believe me," Emma had pleaded, "I would never do anything to hurt him." Morgan had pushed his chair back and had paced the living room. He had gulped down a swig beer, his gaze flicking from Emma to Dennis. "People will think he's a slut. Boys will take advantage of him." "I'll protect him," Emma had said. Morgan had sat back down. He had looked over at Emma and had shaken his head. "I guess I can't stop you from doing what you're doing but be warned, Emma," he had pointed a finger at her, "If you're gonna dress him like a slut, I will treat him like a slut. And you're gonna let me." Morgan had downed the last of his beer and had put the bottle down. "That's the price you both will pay." Emma had nodded. "I understand." "I'm gonna clear the table," Morgan had said, "While I'm doing that, I want you to dress him up in the best outfit you have." "Okay." Emma had picked up Dennis and had carried him into their bedroom. Although Morgan's warning had concerned her, she had been relieved that he hadn't hit her or Dennis. Emma had known what the words had implied but she had accepted that it had probably been the best compromise for all. She had put Dennis on her bed and had taken off his clothes. She had had to think about what outfit she should dress him in but had finally settled on a black pair of thigh-high nylons with a garter belt. She hadn't bothered with panties this time because Emma felt her son looked better without when wearing a garter belt. She had put on a black, strapless lace-bra on Dennis that she had made herself a few days ago and had admired just how gorgeous her one-year-old child had looked. Emma had smiled to herself as she had gone to the closet and had gathered her latest purchase; a pair of silver rhinestone pumps in child size 3. She had gently slipped them on Dennis' small feet and had almost teared up at how perfectly they had fitted him. Emma had completed Dennis' outfit with a sheer lace babydoll that had an open front. The little child had looked absolutely stunning and Emma hadn't been able to stop smiling at the sight of her beautiful boy lying there in front of her all dressed up and pretty. Dennis' hair had reached a length now where it could be fashioned into various hairstyles and Emma had chosen to braid it into pigtails, fastened with cute little flowery elastic bands. As a finishing touch, she had put a lovely choker around Dennis' neck. It had been made of black velvet and had the most gorgeous little silver heart at the front. "God, you look so pretty, honey," Emma had said and had leaned down and kissed his little mouth. Her heart had melted in her chest when Dennis had smiled back at her. "You done?" Emma had turned and had seen Morgan standing in the doorway. "Yes," she had replied and had put Dennis' pacifier into his mouth. Morgan had entered the bedroom and looked down at the semi-naked boy on the bed. Emma had watched her husband with bated breath as he had studied the little beautiful child. She had noticed a bulge in her husband's pants but hadn't been sure whether that had been a good sign or not. "He's pretty," Morgan had said and had sat down next to Dennis who had smiled up at Morgan while sucking on his pacifier. Morgan had reached down and had caressed the child's cheek. Emma had felt a lovely warmth build in her heart. Morgan had rarely shown the child that much affection in the past and it had felt incredibly nice seeing him like this for once. "Yes, such a pretty little whore." The words had stung Emma hard and she had had to fight back the tears. "You're gonna grow up to be a slut-whore just like your mother, aren't you?" "Please don't talk to him like that," Emma had said, unable to hide the hurt in her eyes. "I'll talk to him however the fuck I want." Morgan had run a finger from the boy's warm cheek down past his little choker, stopping at his chest to part the babydoll's opening a bit further and exposing the small bra. Emma had watched on as Morgan had let a finger circle the small area on the cup where the child's underdeveloped nipple would be hiding behind. Dennis had sucked harder on the pacifier as the grown man's finger had continued down along the child's smooth stomach, past the bellybutton, further down past the garter belt, coming to a rest at his tiny penis. "What about this little thing then?" Morgan had asked and had taken the little penis between his fingers, "A cute little slut like you don't need that, do you?" Emma had noticed that the bulge in her husband's pants had become more pronounced as he had been fondling the child's private parts. Morgan had gently massaged the petite penis with his fingers, tenderly peeling back the child's foreskin and exposing the boy's tiny glans. "He likes it better when you put a bit of oil on it," Emma had whispered. Morgan had sent her a sharp glance. Emma had swallowed and had gotten up, walked over to Dennis' room and had retrieved the bottle of baby oil. When she had returned to the bedroom, she had stopped at the door, surprised to see that Morgan had no longer been wearing any clothes. Her husband's cock had been hard and throbbing, his glans swollen and purple, veins standing out prominently along his engorged shaft. He had been kneeling over the boy, massaging the tip of his glans against the child's little penis. Emma had sat down next to them and had let a few drops of baby oil drip down on her son's penis. Morgan had used his cock to spread the oil out evenly, getting his own glans all slippery in the process. "He likes it," Emma had smiled as she had noticed how Dennis' little penis had stiffened. "Yeah, he's a good little slut." Emma hadn't liked that Morgan had used that word about the child but considered it a small price to pay all things considered. "You like it when daddy touches you, don't you?" Morgan had said, not really looking at the child. Instead he had held Dennis' little one-inch erection between his fingers and had pressed his own hard cock against it, rubbing them together. Emma had caressed Dennis' cheek while Morgan had continued massaging the two penises against each other. Dennis had smiled at his mother and she had kissed his little soft lips. She had thought about giving him his pacifier but had instead pulled up her blouse, undone her bra and had given him her breast instead. Dennis had happily accepted his mother's nipple and had greedily sucked on it. Emma had felt her nipple harden in her son's mouth and had heard her husband's breathing get deeper at the sight. "Yeah, let him suck on your whore-tits," Morgan had hissed as his hand had started jerking his hard cock while masturbating the boy's little penis up and down at the same time. Emma had felt her son's mouth grip her hard nipple even tighter as Morgan had masturbated the child's oily penis. She had let out a startled whine, half in pain, half in pleasure, feeling a strange sense of arousal simmer in her abdomen. "This gets you horny, doesn't it, you whore?" Morgan had almost spit at her, "You love it when he sucks your tits, when his cock gets all hard, don't you?" "Morgan, please," Emma had whispered, not willing to admit to him how right he was. Her husband's breathing had become more strained, his movements more excited. He had been massaging the two penises faster and faster when she had heard Dennis whimper. All of a sudden, a clear stream of warm urine had squirted out the Dennis' penis. Morgan had let go of the child's penis and had just watched on, mesmerized, as the continuous stream of urine had jetted out of the boy's erect little penis, arcing in the air before raining down on the child's belly. "Are you cumming for daddy, you little slut?" The urine had soaked into the boy's garter belt, bra and babydoll but Dennis had continued feeding on his mother's nipple, not minding the warm urine splashing down on him. Emma had heard her husband let out a sharp groan. She had looked up just when his throbbing cock had started ejaculating thick white semen onto the child's little penis. "Ah, yeah," Morgan had groaned and had unloaded more thick semen against the child's scrotum. Emma had watched on as her son's flow of urine had subsided while Morgan had steadily covered the boy's penis and scrotum with his sticky white semen. Her husband's face had been deeply flushed at that point and she had seen sweat on his forehead. Morgan had squeezed his glans, had shaken out a further couple of drops of semen and had taken a deep breath. Emma had watched him roll over on the other side of the bed, with their child lying between them. "Sure looks good on him, doesn't it?" Morgan had asked, nodding at the boy's semen-covered groin. Emma had just nodded without looking over at her husband. He had been right though; the semen had looked beautiful covering her son's private parts but she had still felt somewhat anxious about Morgan's intentions and hadn't felt like encouraging him. "He might as well get used to it if he's gonna be a little slut like his mother," Morgan had said. Emma had looked down, realizing that Dennis had fallen asleep, his little mouth still locked on her nipple like a suction cup. She had gently removed her breast from the child's mouth and had just observed him for a while, watching him sleeping peacefully. She had reached out for a cloth and had been about to clean her son's groin when Morgan had grabbed her arm. "What are you doing?" "I'm just gonna clean him up," Emma had replied. Morgan had held her gaze with his stern eyes. "Be a good little whore and use your mouth." "Morgan, no," Emma had pleaded but she had seen the determined look in his eyes and had known that there was no way of talking him out of it. "Don't make me repeat myself," Morgan had hissed and had grabbed her by the hair and forced her face down to the boy's semen-covered groin. Her husband's grip had hurt Emma and she had felt his hand tighten around her neck as he had pressed her head down. Her lips had almost touched her son's penis and she had opened her mouth, sticking out her tongue. The semen had still been warm when Emma had gently licked it off the child's soft little penis. She hadn't wanted to wake Dennis up and had taken extra care in being as gentle as possible. "That's a good little whore," Morgan had whispered as Emma had cleaned his semen from the boy's penis. Emma had circled her tongue around the child's small and smooth scrotum, scooping up Morgan's semen. She had been surprised at how good it had tasted and had hated herself for enjoying it. She had gently parted her son's legs and had licked up the semen that had run into the fatty folds of the child's thighs, turning to his soft perineum next. "You like that, don't you?" Morgan had asked. Emma hadn't answered him. "It gets you hot, doesn't it?" Emma had ignored him and had cleaned the remaining drops of semen from the sleeping boy's perineum. "Gets you whore-pussy all wet." Emma had realized that her vagina had felt moist in her pants. It had genuinely surprised her because she hadn't felt particularly aroused while this had been going on. It had made her question her own desires and question the love she felt for her son. She would never do anything to harm her child but she would do absolutely everything to protect him. "I need to bathe him, Morgan," she had said, nodding at the child's urine-soaked lingerie. "Sure," her husband had replied, "In a bit." Emma had not liked the tone of his voice but had not dared arguing that their son was getting cold in his wet clothes. "Take off your pants," Morgan had whispered. "Please," Emma had implored but the terrifying look in his eyes had scared her enough. Emma had unbuttoned her pants and had gently slid them down her slender legs, letting them drop to the floor. She hadn't been wearing any panties, she rarely did, and had instead pulled her blouse down to cover her private parts. "This is what we're gonna do," Morgan had started, "You're gonna take his little cock into your whore-mouth and suck him like you used to suck me." Emma had looked up at her husband, ready to object but the intense glare in his eyes had made her shiver. She had averted her gaze, looking down at her child, seeing how his little penis had gone soft with only his tiny exposed glans visible. "While you're doing that, you will play with your whore-pussy," Morgan had continued, "You will not stop sucking his little cock until you orgasm, is that understood?" The hatred she had felt for Morgan that instant had burned so violently in her heart. She had painfully regretted never owning a handgun because she would have gladly emptied the magazine into Morgan's face. "Be a good whore and don't try to fake it, I'll know the difference." Emma had loathed the fact that he had been right. She had never been good at pretending to climax. Maybe it had been because she had never felt like she had needed to. Her father had always made her orgasm and even Morgan would occasionally make her climax. She had again looked down at her little sleeping son. He had looked so peaceful and innocent and Emma had felt a knot of regret in her stomach. Regret that her little child had to live in house with a monster like Morgan, regret that she hadn't had the courage to leave him. "What are you waiting for?" Emma had looked up at Morgan but had only seen spite in his narrow eyes. "Please, Morgan." Her husband had grabbed her hard by the neck and had forced her face down to Dennis' crotch. Morgan's grip had hurt her terribly and tears had formed in Emma's eyes as she had parted her lips and had taken her son's tiny penis into her mouth. The little limp penis had been so small and soft that Emma had had real difficulties keeping it in her mouth. The last thing she had wanted had been to hurt her child and had therefor been extra careful not to squeeze his delicate private parts too hard with her lips. "Don't forget your whore-pussy." Morgan's arrogant voice had sounded like nails on a chalkboard to her ears but Emma had reached a hand down between her legs and had started to massage her clitoris. Emma hadn't felt anything when her fingers had touched her little love-bud. Not the delightful tingling that she had always felt when pleasuring herself nor the warmth that had usually spread throughout her body. It had almost felt like she had been massaging another woman's vagina. A tear had dripped from her eye when she had felt how her son's little penis had involuntarily hardened in her mouth. She had hated Morgan with a vengeance for forcing her to take advantage of her child like that. Acts like these shouldn't be forced upon someone, they should always be done out of love, Emma had thought - like the way her father had pleasured her with his immense affection. Out of the corner of her eye, Emma had noticed how Morgan had had his hand around his swollen cock. It had surprised her that he had been ready to go again so soon, he had never recovered so quickly before when they had made love. "Don't stop," she had heard him hiss in a hoarse voice. Emma had prayed for Morgan to be struck down by cardiac arrest right there and then but it unfortunately hadn't happened. Instead, Dennis' little penis had grown harder in her mouth and had soon been fully erect. Although not much more than two inches long in its erect state, the penis had been much easier for Emma to keep in her mouth but something else had been happening as well. While she had hated to admit it to herself, feeling her lovely child's erect penis in her mouth had for one reason or another gotten the nerves in her vagina firing again. All of a sudden, Emma had felt her fingers against her clitoris, and they had felt good. She had detested the feeling that having her child's penis in her mouth had given her. She would have gladly done it if it had been just the two of them, and if Dennis had wanted her to, but because it had been forced upon them by Morgan, it hadn't had the beauty of love that her little son so richly had deserved. Emma had heard soft squeaking voices coming from Dennis and had tilted her head a bit without removing her mouth from his penis. The child had been squirming slightly as his mother's mouth had slowly moved up and down his tiny erection. The child had somehow still been sleeping but Emma had seen how his mouth had twitched into sweet smiles. She had wondered what had gone through her son's little mind at that point. Had he been dreaming? And if so, of what? Emma had pictured how her son's mind had formed the loveliest dream a little one-year-old boy could have and it had, for a moment at least, made her forget about the awful degradation and humiliation that Morgan had been putting them through. "He likes it," Morgan had huffed. The beautiful motif in Emma's mind had shattered into a million shards at the sound of her husband's terrible voice. She had wanted to lash out at him, to scratch his face bloody with her nails but she had been so afraid of what he might do to her and her child. Morgan had moved closer to the boy and had knelt next to him in the bed. He had still been masturbating and his cock had been so engorged that the veins along the shaft had looked like they had been ready to burst. Emma had looked up at her husband and had recognized the intense look on his face. When he had moved his cock closer to Dennis' face, Emma had finally mustered enough courage to remove her mouth from her son's penis. "Please don't ejaculate on his face," Emma had pleaded. "I'll shoot my cum where ever the fuck I want, you fucking slut-whore." Emma had almost cowered at the venom in his voice but she had stood her ground. "Please, Morgan," she had continued, "He's just a little child." Emma had shrieked when Morgan had grabbed her by the hair and had shoved his swollen cock into her mouth. The pain had been almost unbearable but Emma had known that it would be temporary and that it would protect her son. She had almost vomited when Morgan had pressed his cock down her throat. His throbbing glans had rammed against her tonsils and had cut off her air supply. He had grabbed the back of her head and had forced his cock as deep down her throat as it would go. Emma had struggled for air, her arms flailing and eyes bulging in their sockets before Morgan had finally pulled his swollen cock out of her throat. Emma had coughed and gasped for air. The commotion had startled the little child awake but Morgan had ignored him. Tears had been streaming down Emma's face when her husband had grabbed her hair again and had yanked her head back. "Open your whore-mouth," he had ordered her. Emma swallowed, still trying to catch her breath. When Morgan had slapped her cheek, she had felt a burning sensation on the side of her face and more tears had trickled from her eyes. "Open it." Fearing another slap in the face, Emma had done as ordered and had immediately felt Morgan's glans against her tongue. The two had barely made contact before her husband had groaned and Emma felt his semen spray into her mouth. "Don't you dare swallow it, whore," Morgan had hissed as he had ejaculated his salty cum into her mouth. Emma had felt her mouth fill with his semen and although her natural instinct had been to swallow, she had not dared and had held the sperm in her mouth as Morgan had told her. She had heard her son whimper but had waited obediently until her husband had pulled his cock out of her mouth. Emma had looked down at her little child and had seen how his mouth had quivered. He had been on the verge of tears and it had stung Emma's heart to see him so sad. Keeping her mouth closed and not daring to swallow, she had taken her son's little hand in hers and given it a loving squeeze. "He's upset," Morgan had said while pulling his pants back on, "You should feed him." Emma had nodded and had lifted up her blouse to get her breast out. "No, not with that," Morgan had sneered, "Use your whore-mouth." If her mouth hadn't been full of semen, Emma would have furiously objected but when Morgan had raised his hand, ready to strike, and her little son had started crying, she had seen no alternative but to do what Morgan had commanded. Hating herself for doing it, Emma had lowered her face to her son's and the child had immediately stopped crying at the sight of his mother. Emma had placed her mouth against his and when the child had started sucking on her lips, Emma had gently let a few drops of Morgan's semen drip into his eager mouth. The little boy had blinked a couple of times but otherwise hadn't reacted to being fed semen instead of breastmilk. Emma had let the sperm drip into the child's mouth at a steady pace while despising Morgan for forcing her to feed her son like that. She had feared what Morgan would have done if the child had refused the semen, and the only consolation she had taken from this, was the fact that she had protected her child. It hadn't taken long for her mouth to be empty but son had kept sucking on her lips. She had lifted her head and looked up at Morgan. "Can I give him my breast now?" "All done?" her husband had grinned, "He really is a good little slut like his mother." Morgan had been laughing as he pulled on a sweatshirt before heading out to meet his friends at the bar. Emma had immediately picked up her son and had breastfed him. She had rocked him back and forth while continuing to apologize to him and asking for forgiveness. The child had seemed oblivious to what had actually occurred and had been his usual lovely self as Emma had bathed him and later tucked him in. Over the next few months, Emma had had to endure a plethora of humiliation at the hands of her husband. He had kept telling her that it was the price she needed to pay for turning the boy into a slut. It had been emotionally draining and physically hard to suffer Morgan's ever-changing whims, but he had let her dress Dennis they way she had wanted. That had been a victory so great that it had overcome anything that he had thrown at her. And, oh boy, had he thrown some things her way. Some had been easier to get over than others. Emma hadn't cared when Morgan had brought home a trashy prostitute on her birthday and had fucked her in their bed while Emma had been lying next to them, but it had hurt when he had sodomized Emma while forcing her to suck on her son's penis. She had been able to live with the occasional beating but she hated it when he had ejaculated on her nipples and then forced her to breastfeed it to Dennis. Morgan had for some reason loved to torment her by feeding his semen to her son. Sometimes he had ejaculated into a small cup, then dipped the child's pacifier in the semen and have him suck on it. He had continued to do this until the cup had been empty. On Dennis' second birthday, he had surprised the boy with a freshly made birthday cake. Emma had been taken aback by the loving gesture but had then noticed that the glaze topping had actually been semen. The little boy had of course not known any better and had eaten the cake with a big smile on his face. Later that night, everything had come to a head. It had been their last day together but it had taken an act of cruelty from Morgan for Emma to finally gather up the nerve to leave him. She had been lying in bed with Dennis sleeping peacefully against her bosom. He had been wearing a delicate see-through babydoll that had reached just below his fleshy buttocks. Emma had sewn it herself and had given it to him as a birthday present. Underneath the almost transparent babydoll, Dennis had been wearing the cutest little black lace bralette with matching panties. He had looked so beautiful and had been so happy when she had put the clothing on him. Emma had been on the verge of sleep herself when Morgan had entered the bedroom. She had watched him get undressed and had immediately noticed his swollen cock that had been sticking out from his groin. It had not been unusual for him to climb into bed behind her while she was sleeping and jam his hard cock up inside of her without warning. It had always hurt her, especially when he had forced his cock up into her anus. Emma had sighed to herself and had moved the covers so that her naked ass had been exposed. She hadn't felt like fighting with him that night and when he had climbed into bed behind her, she had reached down, lifted her nighty and had parted her cheeks for him. "What the fuck are you doing?" Morgan had asked. "What? I thought you'd wanted to have sex," Emma had said, looking over her shoulder at him. "I do," he had said in a low but determined voice, "But not with you, you whore." Emma hadn't understood him at first but then she had seen the way her husband had looked at the child sleeping against her bosom. She immediately felt a rush of panic stiffen her body. "No," she had pleaded, "No, Morgan, he's just a little child." "Maybe you should have thought about that before you dressed him like a little slut." "Please don't do it, Morgan, I beg you." Morgan had grabbed her by the hair and had yanked her face close to his. She had smelled the liquor on his breath and had seen the manic look in his eyes. She had seen him angry and upset before but this was different. This time he had genuinely frighten her. "He's gonna be taking it up the ass for the rest of his life so he might as well learn it at a young age, don't you think?" "No, plea --" He had backhanded her across the face with such force that everything had become blurry. Emma had been on the verge of unconsciousness and all sounds had seemed muffled and like they had been coming from far away. She had barely felt it when Morgan had yanked her away, sending her tumbling out of the bed. She had hit her head against the floor and everything had gone black for an instant. Emma had tried to push herself up on her elbows but they had felt weak and jelly-like. She believed she had heard Morgan shout something but she hadn't been able to make out what it was. It hadn't been until she had heard her son scream that the sound had returned to normal. Emma had been able to pull herself up by the bedpost. She had screamed out herself when she saw what Morgan had been doing to her little son. Her husband had ripped open the child's babydoll and had torn his little panties apart. Dennis had been lying on his stomach with his face pushed down against the mattress. He had been screaming and crying, his tiny hands clawing at the sheets. Morgan had used his knees to spread the boy's legs and had been pressing his swollen cock against the child's small anal opening. Emma had seen how her husband's throbbing glans had been obscured by her child's fleshy buttocks, while he had desperately tried to press himself into her son's anus. Dennis had thrashed about but Morgan had obviously been much stronger than the little boy for him to break free, but the thrashing had been enough to keep Morgan from getting his cock inside the puckered anus. The sight of her crying son and the deranged look on Morgan's face, had made Emma leap like a lioness at her husband. She had plowed into his side and had knocked him off the bed. Morgan had howled as he had hit the floor and Emma had jumped up on the bed and had formed a defensive shell around Dennis. Morgan had grabbed her and yanked her onto her back. She had hardly felt the fist that had struck her jaw but she had definitely felt it when Morgan had rammed his hard cock up into her pussy. He had still had that deranged look in his eyes as he had raped her without mercy. Emma could have accepted the rape because it had at least kept her crying son safe, but when Morgan had folded his hands around her throat and had started squeezing it tight, she had realized that it had now been a question of life and death. Although her field of vision had been narrowing as Morgan had tried to squeeze the life out of her, she had managed to reach up and rake his face with her nails. Her husband had let go of her throat and had wailed while clutching his bleeding face. It had given Emma just enough time to thrust her foot upwards. Her heel had caught Morgan square in the face and had put him down for the count. Emma had scrambled, picking up her crying son and wrapping him in a blanket while sprinting for the door. She had heard Morgan moan from the bedroom, had heard him wobble to his feet. She had grabbed her purse and had burst through the front door, making a beeline for her car. Emma couldn't have cared less that she had only been dressed in a nighty, she had just wanted to get away from Morgan. Having seen a few horror movies in her life, she had half expected to drop the car keys, or the car not to start, but none of this had fortunately happened. She had seen Morgan stumble onto the lawn, shouting at her as she had pulled out of the parking lot and floored the gas pedal. As she had seen the house fade in the rear-view mirror, she had finally started breathing again. She had looked at Dennis, sitting in the child seat next to her, and had run a hand through his long hair. His big brown eyes had been moist and his lips had still been quivering but Emma had popped the glovebox and had found a pacifier which she had given to her son. When they had arrived at her father's house, the child had been sleeping. Emma could see that there wasn't any light on inside but she had a key and had gently carried the sleeping boy inside. After having carefully locked the door behind her, a serene calmness engulfed her body and mind. She hadn't realized how much she had missed this house, the house where she had lived for the better part of her life and where she had enjoyed countless moments of love with her father. Expecting her father to be sleeping, Emma had tiptoed upstairs and had opened the door to her old room. It had looked exactly like she had left it almost three years ago. She had gently put down Dennis on her old bed and had pulled the covers over him. She had wanted to climb into bed with him but had paused when she had heard muffled sounds coming from her father's bedroom. She had recognized the sounds for what they were, she and her father had made the same kind of sounds when they had made love. Emma certainly hadn't wanted to spy on her father, and she was happy that he was enjoying himself, but she still felt a bit curious. She had checked a final time on Dennis and satisfied that the child had been sound asleep, she had quietly made her way down the hall to her father's room. The door had been ajar and Emma had peeked inside. She had smiled when she had seen a young Asian boy sitting on top of her father. Her father's hard cock had looked so beautiful as it slowly glided in and out of the boy's anus. Emma had seen how excited her father had been by the way his hands had gripped the boy's narrow waist. The young boy had leaned down and Emma had seen how her father and the boy had kissed passionately. Not wanting to disturb them, she had turned away from the door but the floor had creaked under her weight. "Emma?" Her father had looked up and had spotted her by the door. "What's going on, pumpkin?" He had lifted the boy off his cock and had climbed out of bed. Putting on a pair of sweatpants that had done little to hide his prominent erection, he had opened the door. Seeing her daughter's bruised face and her tears, he had immediately thrown his protective arms around her and had held her tight as she had cried against his chest. They had gone down to the kitchen. Her father had wrapped her in a bathrobe and had made coffee while Emma had recounted the horrible events. Jack's jaw muscles had been working overtime as Emma had told him what had happened and she had seen the anger and rage in his eyes. "You're never going back there, pumpkin, you're staying right here," her father had told her, "I'll call my lawyers first thing tomorrow, get the divorce process started. I'll have him out on his ass before sundown and get my people to pick up your things." "Thank you so much, daddy, I don't know what I would do without you," Emma said, trying to hold back her tears as she had warmed her hands on the coffee cup. "It's my fault, pumpkin. I should've followed my gut. I knew something was off with that piece of shit." "You couldn't have known, daddy. No one could." "I'm just grateful you're both okay," her father had told her and had taken her hands in his, "You and Dennis can stay with me as long as you want. If you wanna stay here forever, you'll stay here forever." "Thank you, daddy." "Is she okay?" Both of them had looked up at the sound of the soft voice that had come from the door. The cute little Asian boy that her father had been having sex with just moments earlier, had been standing in the doorway wearing only a pair of cotton briefs and a tanktop. He had been younger than Emma had first thought, only about nine or ten-years-old, but he had looked absolutely adorable. She had known for a long time how much her father enjoyed the company of young boys and it hadn't been a surprise that he would be spending a wonderful night with such a gorgeous little boy. Jack had waived him over and the boy had quickly climbed up on her father's lap. Emma had smiled at the sweet boy as he had leaned against her father's hairy chest. "Emma, this is Kai," Jack had said, "Kai, this is my daughter, Emma." "Hello," the little boy had said, extending a hand to Emma, "Nice to meet you." "Nice to meet you too, Kai," Emma had replied, shaking the polite boy's little hand. Emma had no idea how her father found and met young boys like Kai, but she knew that he would never do anything to hurt the children and that he would always be gentle with them. Thinking back to her own wonderful childhood, she had felt happy for Kai because she knew how generous and affectionate, he was with people that he cared for. And it had been obvious that he had cared deeply for Kai. The way he had looked at him and how he had folded his protective arm around him. Kai had also seemed completely relaxed and at home in her father's arms, and Emma had felt certain that the two of them had spent many days and nights together. Emma had smiled when she had seen her father's hand move down between the boy's legs, folding itself around the little bulge in the boy's briefs. Kai had looked so at ease sitting there on her father's lap while he gently massaged the boy's tender groin. "Emma and her son will be staying with us," Jack had told him. "You have a son?" Kai's eyes had lit up, "Can I meet him?" "He's sleeping now, sweetie," Emma had smiled, "But you'll see him tomorrow." "I look forward to meeting him." "It's past your bedtime as well, pumpkin," Jack had told Kai and had kissed the boy on top of his head, "Why don't you head upstairs? I'll be up in a few minutes." "Okay," the little boy had nodded and had slid down the older man's lap. Emma had noticed by the way the boy's briefs were bulging out, that the boy had gotten an erection from being massaged by her father. "Good night, miss." "Good night, sweetie," Emma had told him, "Sleep tight." After the little boy had gone upstairs, Emma had sent her father a warm smile. "He's really cute, and so polite." "Yeah, he's a really good boy." "I'm so happy you're enjoying yourself, daddy," Emma had said and had taken her father's hand. "Thank you, pumpkin, I can't tell you how glad I am that you're here." "I've missed you so much, daddy." Tears had begun running down Emma's face. This had been the worst night in her life but it had ended so magnificently with her being back in the safety of her father's house. Jack had held her tight and Emma had felt how her body and mind had slowly calmed down in her father's arms. She had felt so much love for her father and felt truly blessed that she had survived the ordeal. "Can I see Dennis?" "Of course, daddy." They had gone upstairs and had quietly entered Emma's old room. The little boy had been sleeping so peacefully and it had warm Emma's heart to see him like this. "He has your nose," her father had said with a smile. "And your eyes, daddy." While they had never spoken about it openly, Emma felt certain that her father suspected that he was not just Dennis' grandfather but also his actual biological father. She didn't need him to take a paternity test, she was confident that the semen he had filled her with on her wedding day, had found its way to her uterus, and from the uterus to her ovary where the millions of tiny sperm cells had darted toward her inviting eggs and had made her pregnant with Dennis. This was also the reason why she could never really feel anything but pity for Morgan. Out of jealousy, he had tried so hard to compete with her father for her affection, tried his best to keep her away from him and to dominate her. But like with everything else in Morgan's life, he had failed completely. Failed to make Emma love him like she loved her father. Failed to treat her as good as her father did. But best of all, he had failed so miserably at putting a baby in her womb. Where Morgan had failed, her father had succeeded and Emma would forever be grateful that it was her own loving father that had given her a child, and not Morgan. When she had realized that her father had made her pregnant, she had broken down in tears - tears of utter bliss. She hadn't worried about the potential risks the comes with an incestuous pregnancy, nor had she ever given the legal ramifications a single thought. Emma had just felt so blessed and lucky, that it would be her that would carry on her father's bloodline and not some stranger that could never love him like she did. Now, sitting in her kitchen, hearing her father talk about her having a child with Dennis, creating a new life with the very child her father had given her, Emma felt completely certain that her father was right. "Don't stop making love to him, pumpkin," her father said, "Let him plant the seed inside of you. Let him give you a child if he hasn't already." Emma's hand instinctively glided down to her belly. She felt a maternal anticipation build in her every fiber, an anticipation she hadn't felt in a very long time. It was like a perfect circle. Her father had given her a child and that child would give her another. "I will daddy," Emma replied and felt a tear of happiness roll down her cheek. "Who better to carry on our bloodline than you and your son?" Emma wiped away the tear and held her father's hands tight. She didn't want it to be a secret anymore, she didn't want it to be taboo ever again. She wanted the truth to be spoken openly. "Our son, daddy, our son." Her father looked into her eyes, then nodded. "Our son, pumpkin." Emma felt a rush of harmony surge through her body. This felt so right. It was right. "I need to tell him, daddy," Emma said, "Dennis deserves to know that his father - his real father - isn't some creep who ran out on him as a child, but the most loving and caring man that I have ever known." Jack held her gaze and Emma saw tears of emotions in his eyes. She had never seen her father so moved before, not even when Dennis had been born. He sighed deeply, then nodded his agreement. Emma wanted to kiss her father, wanted to feel his lovely hands on her naked body, wanted to enjoy the strength of his wonderful cock as he made love to her. She was about to reach out for him when his cellphone chimed. Jack answered the phone and Emma began clearing the table. She only heard her father speak a few words but suddenly felt concerned at the sound of his tone. When he hung up, Emma looked at him, seeing the troubled look on his face. "What is it, daddy?" "It's aunt Josie," her father said and swallowed, "She's passed away.