Date: Mon, 8 Sep 2003 13:32:49 -0700 From: PAUL MENDENHALL Subject: Daddy's Girl I'd always been a daddy's boy. From the earliest age I can remember, I was following him around, clinging to him, sitting on his lap. I worshipped him. Well, who wouldn't? Not many kids have a daddy like mine. His name was Wade Wilson, but in the manner of most competitive bodybuilders, he was better known by a nickname: "Tank Wilson." And he was built like a tank, all right. 5'6", 265 pounds of sculptured beef, when he competed, 300 pounds of titanic size and strength during the off-season. As if that weren't enough, he was terribly handsome: black hair, that was receding in a very sexy way; perfectly sculpted sideburns and goatee, and a five o'clock shadow that asserted itself around noon. A strong jaw and cleft chin, heavy, dark eyebrows that shadowed black eyes, with the longest, curliest eyelashes you could imagine. Yes, my daddy oozed sex; and I was in tune with that from the day I was born, I guess. I took after Mom: slender, blond, pretty. I think Dad loved her because of the contrast; when they were together, he seemed even bigger, even more masculine; and she adored him. In our house, there was no question who was boss, who "ruled the roost." Mom and I lived to make Daddy happy, and we were happy to have it so. He had stopped competing when I was five, in order to devote his time to running a gym, Tank's Fitness Center, which was a joke, because it wasn't about fitness; it was a hard-core iron pit, full of hulking behemoths like Dad. It rapidly became the Mecca for serious bodybuilders in our region, and did very well. After dinner each night, I would snuggle with Daddy in front of TV while Mom did the dishes. That was my favorite part of the day, wrapped in his huge arms, my face against his mighty chest, his smells enveloping me. We would play silly games, where he would blow "raspberries" on my neck, his stubble tickling me unbearably, or he would slide his and under my shirt and give my nipple a pinch. I loved his hands on me so much! I would always get an erection at these times. I remember clearly the first time Daddy realized this. His hand had slipped down into my lap, and was pressed against my tiny boner. At first he seemed to be unaware of it, and unconsciously he started to stroke it through my pants, his fingertips squeezing my cocklet gently. I could hardly breathe; I was so excited, never wanting this moment to end. As Mom came into the room, he lifted me off his lap, and she took my place; but there was a moment when our eyes connected, and I saw the power of my sire's lust for the first time. They bored into me like drills, and a fire passed between us that stunned me. That was how it always went though: Mom took my place in Daddy's arms, and soon they would retire to their room. Sometimes I would press my ear to their bedroom door, and wonder what Daddy was doing to make Mommy moan like that. I felt left out, rejected. I was glad my parents loved each other so much, and didn't begrudge Mommy any happiness. But I wanted to feel what Daddy made her feel. I wanted to know what his fingers on my tiny dickie could lead to. The day of my ninth birthday, these feelings became particularly acute. It was my day, but still they went off to their private pleasures, and it hurt. I crept to their bedroom door, and opened it a crack. It was dark in there, but I could barely make-out Daddy's huge body on top of Mommy, thrusting something huge into her. Her legs were wrapped around his back, and her hands clutched frantically at his powerful arms. I silently closed the door and ran to my room. I slipped out of my clothes, and stood in front of the mirror, my hands exploring my body. I looked at the wee little peepee between my legs, and thought about the massiveness of my father's tool. I saw my beautiful face, so much like Mommy's: my wavy blond hair that Daddy had insisted I keep long. I had been lifting weights since I was five, at Daddy's insistence; but there was no denying I looked more like a miniature female fitness chick than like a male bodybuilder. Most of my development seemed to go to two areas: my round bubble-butt, and my pecs. They didn't resemble the huge slabs of squared-off man-meat that Daddy had on his chest; no, they were round, and sagged a bit from their own weight. They could easily have filled a B cup brassiere; just like Mom's. I stared resentfully at my stupid penis. This was the cause of all my problems. If I had a hole there like Mommy, Daddy could love me just as much! I threw myself on the bed in frustration, my hands idly playing with my private area. I pulled my legs back as I had seen Mommy do, and my fingers brushed over my anus. I felt a thrill go through me. I licked my fingers and started to work them up my hole, one at a time, but I couldn't get deep enough. I glanced over at my dresser, where the hairbrush I used to untangle my locks each night was sitting. I grabbed it and licked the handle, wetting it thoroughly. I lifted my legs again, and pressed it to my anus. My eyes were fixed on a poster of Daddy, posing in all his glory, that I kept on my wall. My hole relaxed and the handle went in. There was some discomfort, but soon I found the right angle to hit my G spot, and I was frigging myself to my first orgasm. After, I was a changed person. I no longer had any doubts about who I was, and what I was for. I was a girl with a pussy, and I was here to give my Daddy pleasure! That was the night Mommy got pregnant with my little brother. It was a difficult pregnancy. She was sick a lot, and bedridden the last two months. I had to take over most of the housework, which I was happy to do. I quickly learned to make all of Daddy's favorite dishes, and he was so sweet to me, always giving me a kiss after dinner. And now, when we cuddled, Mommy couldn't interrupt. Sex between my parents was out of the question at that time, and I could feel my father's frustration building. When I was on his lap, I could feel his organ erecting beneath my pussy, and it was all I could do not to fish it out of his pants and give him some relief. One morning, he was showering before heading off to the gym, and as I passed by the bathroom, I heard him coming. He was doing his best to be quiet, but his grunts were unmistakable. After he left, I checked the shower, and there were still thick gouts of sperm hanging from the tile. I was so excited! I stepped into the stall, and licked up every drop. My first taste of Daddy's cum! It was so strong tasting, gamy, ultra-masculine. I had quickly graduated from the hairbrush to bigger things; namely cucumbers. I would use one until it was going bad, then I would replace it with a larger size. My pussy was dilating beautifully, and when looked at it with a hand mirror, it was pink and puffy, with lovely, full lips. I had also discovered the uses of the douche bag, and always kept my vagina sweet and clean, even using feminine hygiene products, in preparation for the day my Daddy would realize what a pretty girl I was and love me the way I needed. When my baby brother was born, there was no doubt as to whom he took after. He was a tiny image of Daddy! I had been a small baby, but even so, my birth had been hard on my mother. Tank Junior was too much for her. None of us knew she had heart problems. She had kept it from Daddy, knowing how much he wanted another son. I think unconsciously he knew I was really a girl, that is why. Anyway, she didn't survive the birth. I was deeply saddened. Mommy was the only other female in the house, and I felt very lonely now. But it soon became clear that I was going to have to be mother to little Tank, and I was too busy to get lost in melancholy. Daddy loved his baby boy so much; it was a pleasure to see. When he got home at night, I would put the baby in his arms, and we seemed just like a married couple with a new child. One night Tanky was being very fussy, and Daddy couldn't calm him. "What is wrong with him?" Daddy said. He can't be hungry, and I just burped him." I knew what he wanted, but was embarrassed to let Daddy see, so I took him into the nursery, and sat with him in the rocker. I unbuttoned my shirt, and pulled out my breast, slipping my nipple into his sucking mouth. I was lost in the pleasure of nursing my baby, when I felt Daddy's presence in the door. My eyes slowly scanned up his body, stopping for a moment at the huge bulge in his sweatpants; even the jock he always wore couldn't contain his obvious excitement. When our eyes met, the same flame of passion surged between us again. He walked to me and knelt at my side. "My son has a good Mommy." Daddy's strong hand went behind my head, and he leaned in, his breath filling my nostrils with its sweet scent. Our lips met. I groaned, and his thick tongue slipped into my mouth; I sucked at it greedily. Our son was asleep now, so I placed him in his crib, and Daddy swept me up in his massive arms and carried me to his room. He placed me in his bed, and stripped the clothes off me, his hungry eyes roaming over my virgin flesh. He stripped off his sweaty wife-beater, and slipped the sweats down his thighs. I gazed in awe at the man who had created me, the man who would soon complete my journey to womanhood, and make me his mate. He stood there is just his jock, allowing me to worship him with my eyes. "Daddy...will you pose for me?" Daddy's mouth did something between a smirk and a snarl, and he began to flex. How can I describe it? The depth and density of his muscle; the silky perfection of his fur; the pheremone-rich scents that wafted from his pits, his ass, his crotch? As he displayed himself like a proud peacock, his jock-pouch stretched to the bursting point. I could bear it no longer. I threw myself at his feet and pulled down on the elastic that was hiding what I had yearned for all my young life. The curly black bush...the impossibly thick root...the veins...the shaft...so much of it...then the huge purple head, like an overripe plum. I had thought it was fully hard, but once released from its confinement, the organ inflated to its full majestic size, towering over my head, the rod of power and authority. The massive gonads spilled out, their sweet musk filling the air. He stepped out of the strap, and flared his lats out proudly, glorying in his masculine power and perfection. I gazed up in awe at the love of my life, and almost had to laugh at myself. How could I have ever imagined I was a boy? This was what being a male meant. Even our newborn son was more of a man than I would ever be. But that was fine. I had my place: in the bed of my man. Whimpering, I began to lick at his sweaty sack, the smell nearly driving me mad with lust. I could feel my pussy loosening and getting wet in anticipation of it's deflowering. Thank god I had prepared myself for this moment, or surely my father would have killed me with his fearsome weapon. Thick drops of pre-cum began to leak down the mighty shaft, and I licked them up eagerly. Daddy picked me up and placed me on the bed again, his great weight pinning me to the mattress. His eyes bored into my soul, and his mouth devoured mine. Soon he was working his way down my body, chewing on my smooth neck, sucking my tender nipples. He cupped each breast in his hand, enjoying their firm fullness. I was so proud to have built these boobies for his pleasure. He tongued my navel, then paused at my engorged clitty. He gave it a few swipes of his tongue, but kept moving down, seeking his real goal. I pulled my legs back and he gasped when he saw my lovely pink pussy. He sniffed at it, then began to lick. Oh, there are no words for the feeling of having your cunny eaten for the first time. His tongue slipped inside me, and he found my G spot. Soon my first real female orgasm swept over me, fireworks going off behind my eyeballs. When I recovered, I looked down and was amazed how dilated my hole was, how inflamed my pussy-lips. Daddy was spreading pre-cum all over it with his huge cockhead. Loosened as I was, I still doubted my ability to take what Daddy was proposing to put inside me, but I knew there was no point in resisting. I had gotten him this worked-up, and I had to follow through. Besides, I wanted it as badly as he did. The great head stretched my hole till it was at the point of tearing, and then suddenly it popped through. I gasped, both in relief and in pleasure. The pressure on my inner gland was tremendous, and I was lost in a kind of perpetual spasm, that couldn't complete itself due to this great obstruction. It was ecstasy. Daddy put all his weight behind his great organ, and it continued to slide deeper and deeper into me, until I felt his huge balls in my crack. He looked at my face in amazement. "No other woman has ever taken all I've got! God, you are fantastic!" I was thrilled beyond words. To know that I was able to satisfy my Daddy in a way that no other woman ever could, and to know that Daddy totally accepted me as a woman now...well, I burst into tears. He immediately looked concerned. "Oh God, baby, I didn't mean to hurt you; I'll pull out." And he started to. "No, Daddy! I love it! I'm just so happy!" Smiling with relief, Daddy said: "Then baby...would it be OK if I started to fuck you now?" I laughed and said: "You can do whatever you want to me Daddy; now, and always." To describe the rest of that night would require the talents of a poet. The overwhelming passion of the man...his power and potency...and at the same time, his tenderness, his concern for my needs. He was, and is, the perfect lover. The tender avowals, the endearments, the loving caresses; these are secrets I will carry in my heart until I die. Suffice to say, I couldn't walk very well, the next day, and Daddy had to stay home to care for the baby and me. But with enough time in a bubble bath, I found myself able to accommodate him again that night, and every night since. It soon became obvious that I would have to stay home to raise our son, so Daddy arranged for me to be home-schooled, by him, in the evenings. In truth, not much schooling went on, because I was very advanced for my age anyway, and as my future was now assured, education was more of a luxury than a necessity. One day Daddy came home with a bag of various pills, injectable drugs, and syringes. This was nothing unusual; he was a bodybuilder, after all. But this time they were for me. "These will help you be even more of a woman than you already are, Sweetie. You are about to start puberty, and we need to make sure you go in the right direction." A doctor friend of Daddy, who provided his steroids and so on, had been sympathetic to my situation, and supplied me with estrogen and the other things I needed to develop into a full-fledged woman. I was so grateful to Daddy I burst into tears. He gave me my first shot that night, and I started on four pills a day. The results were dramatic. One year later, when I was eleven, I had C cup breasts, my hips had rounded out, and my already pretty face was strikingly beautiful. I was now wearing my mother's wardrobe full-time, and had learned to make-up my face beautifully. Daddy was in a constant state of arousal, and this was just as well, as my own sexual appetites were insatiable. I was really only happy when either my pussy or my throat were full of Daddy's meat. I had learned to suck Daddy to climax, deep-throating him all the way to his balls. Again, no other woman had ever come close to doing that, so his love for me grew even more powerful. While I loved the taste of his marvelous spunk, I always regretted not having him inside my hungry hole; but as his potency was virtually unlimited, he could always satisfy me soon after anyway. Daddy had to be out of town one weekend, so I spoke to Daddy's doctor, and arranged a surprise for him. When he got home, I gave him a small gift. When he opened it, there was a thick gold chain, with a barbell hanging from it; you've seen the kind. Daddy loved it, but he asked me what the barbell was made of, as he had never seen anything quite like it. I slid up my skirt, and showed him what was now under my clitty: nothing! I had had my testicles removed, and electroplated with gold, then joined with a gold bar. "Oh baby...I love you so much!" Daddy kissed me like I had never been kissed then carried me to our room to show his gratitude. He has never taken the chain off since. One day I found Daddy discussing something with some shady looking characters in our living room. He was very mysterious after they left, but a week later, he handed me some papers. They were identity papers for a Tanya Reese, aged 18. Reese was my mother's maiden name, and Tanya was my favorite name. "Congratulations, honey. In the eyes of the law, you are now an eighteen year old woman." I wasn't quite sure what to make of this, but it seemed important to Daddy, so I showed my appreciation in the usual way. One week later, I understood. We were walking in the park with our son, now a toddler. Little Tank was regaling some senior citizens by putting on an impromptu posing exhibition; like father, like son. Daddy put his arm around me. "Darling...there is something I want to ask you. You are a wonderful mother to our boy, and an even better mate to me. I love you so desperately' He kissed me tenderly. "Oh, Daddy..." "No; not Daddy; not anymore. Call me Wade, please." "All right...Wade." "Tanya, will you do me the honor of being my wife?" I was stunned. In effect, I had been his wife for some time; but it never occurred to me that we could really be wed. But I realized now that with the false papers, there was nothing standing in our way. We could truly live our lives as husband and wife, proudly, before the whole world. And our son would have an official set of parents, as he should. I looked into Wades eyes, and saw the passion there, the undying love. It was the love of a man for a woman, but it was more too. It was the love of a creator for his creation. He had conjured me into this world with his powerful loins, and then had overwhelmed what little sense of masculinity I had ever had with his magnificence. He had imprinted himself upon me so completely; there would never be a question of another man for me. And when his first mate was burned-up in the flames of his passion, he had molded me into his ideal partner, through the sheer power of his need. He wasn't just my lover; he was my Creator; my god. And now this godlike man was asking me to openly be his partner, to proudly proclaim to the world that I was his. "Yes, Wade. I would be honored to be your wife." The wedding was so lovely, if a bit bizarre by the standards of most people. All my bridesmaids were female fitness competitors from the ladies gym where I now trained. The groomsmen were bodybuilder's from "Tank's." Their tuxedos had no sleeves, and the bow ties were strapped around their bulging necks with no shirts beneath them. I wore a gown with a very short skirt and a plunging neckline, that had the men in obvious states of arousal as I walked down the aisle. Little Turk was our ring bearer, and as usual used the occasion to do some flexing. When Wade kissed me, I thought he was going to lose control and do me on the altar! But we managed to control ourselves through the reception. We honeymooned in Mexico, and let me tell you, we caused quite a sensation on the nude beach! Of course I had to wear my bikini bottoms, but Wade let it all hang out, and I was the object of jealousy from every woman there; and not a few of the men! I was often hit on by gorgeous Mexican men, but as soon as they saw Wade, that put paid to that! It is now ten years later. "Tank" is back competing, though he has no real competition. I have won several fitness titles myself; and Little Tank has already won the Teen Nationals, at the age of fourteen! He is growing into a carbon copy of his father, including sexually. His endowment is already too big too hide very well; not that he is inclined to hide it! There is a parade of horny girls hanging on the doorbell; I worry that he will knock one of them up. But I have a plan for dealing with that. There is a neighbor boy, Timmy, ten years old. He loves to hang out at our house. I have taught him a lot about cooking, cleaning, and how to please a man in general, and he is taking to it like a duck to water. He also uses Tank Junior's old weight set, and is developing a lovely pair of breasts and a fine full bottom. I watch Timmy when TJ is around, and he (she?) gets very breathy and giggly. I asked him one day if he would like to feel TJ's muscles, and his eyes widened, and his cheeks flushed. Oh yes, Timmy has a big crush on our boy. I have a plan to bring them together; I will update this afterward. Things went beautifully. It was Halloween. I knew TJ was going to a party dressed as Tarzan. I told him he had to take Timmy, he objected strenuously, but I put my foot down. I made a charming Jane outfit for Timmy, and did his lovely long hair and make-up, so he was an absolute dish. You should have seen TJ's face when I brought Timmy into the room. I was afraid he would jump her right there! He walked up to her, said: "Me Tarzan, you Jane!" And off they went. Late that night, I heard voices on the porch and I looked out the window. TJ and Timmy were seated on the porch swing, TJ's big arm around Timmy's narrow shoulders. He was whispering something, and then they kissed. That was one of the loveliest sights I have ever seen: their innocent passion. Soon Timmy was on his knees, giving my boy his first blowjob. I knew love had been born. >From then on, Timmy was always allowed to dress as a girl at our house, and was always referred to as Tina. Wade approved completely of this arrangement; he too had been worried TJ would ruin his life with an early pregnancy. Tina's mother was very ill, and we made arrangements to adopt her. When the end came, we had a new daughter, and our son had a live-in girlfriend. They share his room of course, and it is such a lovely arrangement for all. TJ doesn't have to go through the usual hell of adolescent dating, and can concentrate on his bodybuilding. He is growing up to be as fine a man as his father, and treats his girl just as his father treats me. Tina has found her man, and is a very content housewife (or will be once she is eighteen.) I have a charming daughter to help around the house. And Wade has a marvelous family...and me. Our passion grows daily. For example, after the last contest we did together, e could hardly get to our room before we were al over each other. His shaved and oiled body felt so incredibly erotic all over me. His mouth on my breasts, his giant staff in my pussy. He is a dream lover, and I am the luckiest woman alive. Sometimes in the throes of passion I still call him "Daddy!" He doesn't mind. He calls me his "sweet baby girl." I love that. After all, I'm still Daddy's girl.