*Here’s a story in response to a request. I hope it’s OK to read, I wasn’t in a very happy mood when I wrote this. :(*
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*”twenty-three years. Twenty three years you’ve been ugly. Useless.”
Mi-cha stood trembling in front of her father, eyes down while he berated her yet again. Clothes too ugly. Not enough makeup. Too much of the wrong kind of makeup. Can’t cook. Can’t clean. Can’t work. No education, never mind he wouldn’t let her go, telling her she was too stupid to graduate, that he ‘wouldn’t waste money on her’.
“Had enough of you. Is there* any *part of you that’s any good?* Any *part at all?” She stood, mute.
“Strip.”
No, dad. I don’t want to.
He slapped her, hard. “Listen to your father, useless. Strip!”
Shaking, crying, she peeled off her shirt, her pants. Stood before him in her bra and underwear. He slapped her again. “Strip, I said! he told her, pulling on her bra, breaking the clasp so it came free in her hand. Instinctively, she covered her breasts with one arm, slowly pulled her underwear down to her ankles. Stood there, nude, tears falling free as she keep her gaze on the floor, felt his gaze on her.
“Look at you! Pasty skin, freckles everywhere. One breast too small! Bush too big, like a forest! Too ugly a body, even. Monkeys are prettier! I’d sell you to the pimp in the alley, only he wouldn’t take you! No money in you! You’re no use to me; no, none! Get out!”
Crying harder, she bent to pick up her clothes, but was stopped by him. In a fit of rage he grabbed her by her arms and pushed her out the door, still naked, and locked it behind her. Embarrassed and ashamed, she walked out into the city. Ugly in body, ugly in soul.
That was five years ago…*
Another ugly day.
She’d lost track of how many men she’d fucked since being brought here to the specialist club, how many *things* she’d fucked, how many things she’d done and had done *to* her. Ugly men doing ugly things. She was an ugly woman, and the fine scars on her breasts, her legs, her belly attested to the ugly acts they’d performed, and the uglier the act, the better it suited her.
She sat at her dressing table and checked the briefing note for today’s client, hoping he wanted something mundane from her; her last client had been into fisting and fisting *hurt*; she was still a bit sore when she sat, or maybe more than a bit. *Oh, good,* she thought to herself; a mild one today, wanted a lay while tied immobile, gagged, blindfolded. She checked that they noted he’d been slipped his blue pill, which was always given to them before they were led to their rooms now; a lot of these older guys couldn’t function as much as they’d like but in those cases who was to blame? Not them, of course not! It was always the fault of the woman, she wasn’t giving them what they asked for. Checked his name, saw she was to refer to him as Hong Gil-dong. Typical, and disappointing; most of these guys who fancied themselves Robin Hood never seemed to extend it to giving to the poor. Their tips were always the smallest.
She covered herself with a fine film of oil and rubbed it into her skin. Checked that every hair was in place and no hair was where it shouldn’t be. Good; everything in order. She texted Security to let them know she was on her way and got the confirmation that he was ready for her.
She went to the client’s room and went inside to where he was secured, strapped down tight and completely immobile. She gave him a cursory look, closed the door, and did a double-take that wouldn’t be out of place in the worst B-grade comedy. She *knew* that face, behind the blindfold, behind the gag. A face she hadn’t seen in years.
She walked over and circled the prone figure. Smiled. Leaned down and whispered in his ear, “Hi, dad,” and was gratified to see him twitch at the sound of her voice. “No, don’t move,” she told him, and smiled to herself at the joke. “Hey, you were wrong,” she said, running her finger up his chest. “I wasn’t useless after all.”
She pulled his blindfold off his eyes, and smiled again at the recognition in them. He began to struggle, and she shushed him. “No, dad,” she said, “you paid for this. Stay still. Enjoy it.”
He shook his head violently, and frantic noises came from his gagged throat. “Oh, I wasn’t who you were expecting? You were expecting someone who was *not* me?” He nodded urgently. “Oh. Oh, well.” She shrugged. “I’m who you got.” She stroked her breasts, ran her fingers along the lines, the fine white scars shining under the clinical lights. “You were right about one thing, though. I’m ugly. My life is ugly, an endless series of ugly people, ugly acts, ugly things. And now, today…today will be the ugliest one of all.”
She climbed onto the padded table, straddled his chest. Smiling, she tilted her waist and spread her lips, letting him see her there…not *aroused*, exactly, she felt nothing could ever arouse her again, but certainly stirred at the fear in his eyes, the sweat on his forehead, the way he twisted, trying to free himself. Not that he had any chance of that; the staff here were *professionals*.
Still spreading herself, she moved forward over his face and lowered herself so that she just touched his nose, leaving just a drop of moisture on the tip. Then moved down to his waist, leaned forward so her breasts brushed against his chest, gave his nose a flick with her tongue, dabbing that drop from it. He could feel the heat of her on his penis, feel her slit brush against him, and the noises coming from his throat grew louder, more frantic.
Straightening, she began to position herself over him, then stopped. “Oh!” she said innocently, eyes looking up in feigned surprise. “You don’t need *this*!” as she pulled the condom off of him, showed it to him briefly, then tossed it on the floor. “I *trust* you. After all…you’re *family!*” She giggled. “Oh, and I’ll make sure they bill you the family rate when we’re done here,too. You’ll get a discount. See? You were wrong, I *am* useful!” Sighing contentedly, she took him in her hand, but stopped at the muffled noises now coming from him. “Oh, right!” she said to him. “I’m *ugly!* I remember. Here,” and she pulled the blindfold back down over his eyes, “now you don’t have to see me. Just….*enjoy* me,” and she guided him into her.
Settling onto his waist, she let the length of him fill her. She leaned forward so that her mouth was near his ear, began to move along him, in and out. “You were right, dad,” she said softly in his ear, “I’m an ugly woman. I’ve done ugly things. In fact, just yesterday I let some man place his entire foot up in me! But don’t worry!” and here she giggled, “he didn’t have athlete’s foot or anything, no warts! So you’re safe!” She breathed a little heavier in his ear, flicked her tongue inside, along the ridge. “I’ve been whipped, I’ve been tied, to this *day* just the *smell* of fish makes me sick. But this…this by far has to be the ugliest.”
She began to move faster on him, began to breathe heavily in his ear. “So *fuck* me, daddy. Oh, my god, I have my own father inside of me, using me. Do I feel ugly on the inside, too, dad? Or do I feel like mom? Oh..,” She questioned as he grew silent, “do I?” She licked his ear again. “Do I feel like mom does in there? Am I soft like her, warm like her? Does it run in the family? Oh!” she exclaimed and ground down hard against him, “Does mom know you’re here? When you go home will you tell her what we did? Will you,” and she rose up and slowly slid down him once again, “compare her to me after this? Who feels better to you? Your wife…or your daughter?” She watched with satisfaction as a single tear ran down his cheek. “Oh, I know. I know, daddy. How *can* you compare? Well, you can come back anytime you like if you need to. In fact,” and she began to move faster still, “just let me know if I’m welcome to come home again? If I am, I’ll be there to fuck you *any time* you like. Just you, me, and mom. *Aaahhhh…,*” she breathed urgently in his ear, “yes. How does that sound? Mom or me, your choice. And, you know, if there’s something mom won’t do, I will.” She straightened to reach back to fondle him as she moved along him.
“Think about it. If mom won’t get on top, I will. Mom won’t let you fist her, but *I* will. She won’t watch while you’re on top of me, inside of me, between my legs while she lays beside us? *I’ll* watch while you fuck *her*. Or maybe you want to compare, dad,” and her breathing became louder, heavier, faster. “Have her kneel over me, over my back, and you can fuck first her, then me, then her again, and I’ll love it, dad, Do it! I love the feel of you in me now, how it feels to have my own dad enter me, the slick wetness of my own mother in me as you do it, the taste of her on you as you finish on in my mouth, how I can hold her hand with you on top of me…”
He gave a loud grunt, and she felt a hot rush inside of her. She settled down onto him, and paused for a long second as he spasmed, rising only when the last of his twitches died away. Rose and caught his come as it ran out of her, seemingly endless as it did.
“Really, dad. *That* got you off? I may be ugly, but now I know it how runs in the family.” She too that handful of come from between her legs, and wiped it on his chest. “You’re uglier than I will ever be. Don’t come back.”
And left him lying there, strapped to the table.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/tj0ugl/it_runs_in_the_family_fmincnc