IT’S HUMAN NATURE, BABY by seek_forgiveness

 IT’S HUMAN NATURE, BABY

NOTE: This is just as much of a non-con fic as an incest fic, and this one is particularly dark with a focus on Stockholm syndrome and implied past traumatic experiences. If any of that makes you uncomfortable, DON'T READ.

All characters are 18+ in any past or present events implied or mentioned.

Cali languishes on a cream-colored cabriole sofa, cradled by a sunbeam. This is one of her favorite spots in the foyer because of how the window light illuminates her body: her long eyelashes, the fine blonde vellus hairs on her arms and tummy, the grey whirlpools of her eyes. Her bare feet rest lazily on the couch arm--she'd decided to forgo heels today. It wasn't the look she wanted.

Most of the girls are messing around on their phones, or simply reading. She sees Mona, Ivy, and Erica clustered together on the chaise lounge next to the entry doors. It's the spot that everyone thinks is good, because it's what the johns supposedly first see when they walk into the great, open chamber. Except it's not... because her spot is the best. Eyes in a new place always look far before they look near.

She wants to walk over and say hi to Mona, but Mona's been kind of mad at her lately. Ivy's been mad at her too. And, well, Erica...

The truth is that her coworkers don't like her very much. They see her as nothing more than a dumb, self-absorbed bimbo. It's partly accurate--if she made friends in a brothel, she'd end up poor, or addicted to heroin. Or both.

The other girls claim her popularity is only because of how young and fresh she is. Twenty and looks eighteen, short and slender with long bottle-blonde hair. The perfect icon of a pop-culture cheerleader: palatable enough to fit into any man's fantasy, just nebulous enough to be any girl who got away.

Cali likes to think that her popularity is due to skill. It's why she manages to sucker nearly every john who approaches her, no matter how much they'd been eyeing Victoire or Crystal before that. After all, there are several girls here that are every bit as young, petite, and beautiful as her. Most of them have bigger tits, too. Yet when she locks eyes with a guy who's in the middle of schmoozing his chosen waif, it's often enough to make him excuse himself... walk over to her... and put his wallet to work.

Shit, it's hot in here today. Cali hides her face as she quickly, and gracelessly, chugs a big gulp of water from the plastic bottle next to her. When she looks back up, the exact thing she'd just been thinking about happens: she locks eyes with a man across the room.

She flashes a demure smile, adjusts the straps of her teddy slightly, and waits to see his next move. She never, ever approaches first.

After a few moments of visible conflict on his face, the man starts moving towards her. He hardly even walks; it's more of a weird, shuffling beeline, like the gait of a zombie.

"You're stunning," he whispers, sitting down next to her on the sofa. He leaves as much space as possible between their bodies. "I mean... shit. You're the most beautiful thing I've seen in my life."

She plays off his uncomfortably intense approach with a dainty giggle. Awkward as he may be, he looks like he has money to blow... or is at least fronting like it. His suit is tailored well to fit his large figure. He looks older, but with a full head of dirty-blonde hair and a tight-clipped beard. The subtle smell of cologne. At least his hygiene is good.

His eyes are his most striking feature of all. Thundercloud-blue, slippery as a fish; because no matter how hard she tries, he refuses to meet her gaze.

"It's 400 for an hour, mister," she smiles. She touches the wrist of his suit with a delicate hand and teases her fingers his up arm, bouncing them lightly off his shoulder. "Those girls over there on the couch, you see them? They're a lot cheaper than me," she whispers. "They're real slutty too. Are you sure you don't want to try them out?"

See, her skill is in reading people. And using them. Her bottomless contempt for everyone in this godforsaken place lets her ruin marriages, bankrupt families, and take any client she wants without feeling bad that poor, washed-up Tracy Trick just lost her rent money. Her coworkers either admire her or complain; they say the johns love her because shes's "barely legal", like some teen porn idol, but they're as stupid as they think she is. Already she is tailoring her approach to this strange man, who's said almost nothing so far, but it doesn't matter. He could be mute. She knows what kind of client he is.

"Whatcha thinking, daddy?"

That earns her a startled look and some nervous eye contact.

"Uh--yeah. Four hundred is fine."

She steps closer to him, almost close enough to kiss. He's in the palm of her hand now. The reason she hates these sick fucks isn't because of the roleplay. It's because to them, it's not roleplay.

It's real.

"I know I'm spoiled, daddy... but I might ask you for an extra hundred if you really wanna do dirty things with me. I usually charge even more money for this kinda stuff, but you're not like other daddies... you're my daddy."

"Y-yeah, no problem..."

"That's our little secret, though," she murmurs seductively. "Miss Ashley might not like it very much."

It's a lie; Ashley doesn't give a fuck about them making tips as long as nothing illegal happens. But it works. The john nods wordlessly. To prove he has the money, he quickly flashes her his wallet. "I'll pay ya in the room."

Cali winks and points him towards the desk to pay up. He walks over to Mistress Ashley and swipes a platinum card, avoiding looking at the security guard behind her. As he slinks back over to Cali she notices a bulge already tenting the crotch of his fancy pants.

Miss Ashley watches them like a hawk as they head down the hall together, into "Penthouse 9." It's less of a penthouse than a hotel suite, partly because there are no damn windows and it smells like cheap incense to cover up the smell of the smoke-perfused fake Persian rug. Whoever decorated this one had no idea what the fuck they were doing. Cali hates it.

Once they step into the room, she boldly slides her hand into his. Strangely enough, it feels like a perfect fit for hers, a key in a lock. She looks up at him and smiles sweetly. "What's your name?"

He gulps audibly. "C-Chris."

"No need to be so shy, Chris," Cali murmurs, petting his arm. "So what's your daughter's name?"

She knows enough by this point to always ask, and they always have a name for her. Fucked-up bastards.

"S-Stella."

Oh, fuck me. Cali's heart drops to her stomach; simultaneously, bile rises in her throat. Never in her twenty years of life had she heard of another girl named Stella. Why does it have to be now?

She decides to let it go.

"That's a pretty name," she giggles, squeezing his arm even tighter. "Whatcha wanna do together, daddy? Wanna have a sleepover?"

Chris shakes his head, slowly and deliberately. He squeezes her hand tight. "So, err.. I'm meeting you for the first time," he mumbles. "Your dad left a long time ago... like, uh, when you was a kid, I guess. And I'm, uh... your mom's current boyfriend. She left to run errands and now we're alone together... at your house."

Her john's so-called 'roleplay' proposal totally pulls the rug out from under her. It's as if he just kicked her in the stomach, the sensation of breathlessness is so real. It takes her several seconds to recover her bearings, to remember that the memory he just stirred up in her mind was an old one.

Somehow, it feels like he knows her.

"Stella? What's wrong, Stella?"

Cali blinks up at him. "It's nothing!" She smiles bravely. "I, um... maybe we could do a different roleplay..."

"No."

"Why--why not?"

"Well, I can't make ya... but you saw my wallet, right? There's a whole lot more where that came from. And I can't give you that extra hundred if you don't do shit for it."

Cali shifts around a bit, biting her lip. Her trigger-pull decision is to go along with it... because she did, in fact, see his wallet. For the first time, she gets an inkling that she might, just, have underestimated this one.

"Okay, then," she giggles. "I'll be sitting on the couch, just hanging out." She skips over to the garish red loveseat, embroidered with the same vague exotic pattern adorning every other piece of furniture in the room. She makes herself comfy and flashes him a mischievous grin. But he just stands there like a robot, watching her.

This guy is such a freak.

Cali takes the initiative and spreads her legs a bit, innocently revealing the slit in her lingerie. "Umm, I guess my mom wants us to bond or w-whatever. Do you wanna come sit on the sofa, Mr. Chris? We can watch a m-movie or something..."

She's faking it well, but every word she says makes her want to puke. Cali hopes that he doesn't notice her voice quivering and the occasional stammer.

"Sure." He lumbers over to the couch. Cali can hear him breathing heavily as he sits down next to her. Again, she checks out his crotch, surprised to see he's already at full mast. It's a decent-sized erection, and it tickles her a bit to see he's already ready to go. Might not be as bad as I thought.

"Just call me Chris," he mumbles. His dirty blonde head is trained on the floor. "You don't gotta call me mister or anything. We're family now."

"Family?" Cali bounces eagerly. She puts her head on his shoulder. "Wow, that's umm... well... ever since my daddy l-left... I've been lonely..."

The words get stuck in her throat. She bites her lip, desperately fighting to regain composure.

Just... keep playing the role, Stella.

"Oh, I understand," Chris murmurs. He puts a heavy arm around her head and draws her close. "You need a new daddy, huh?"

"Mmm, yeah!" She flashes a fake smile, nestling her head in the crook of his arm. "Do you wanna be my real daddy now?"

His cock looks like it's about to bust out of his stupid tux pants. She knows she's overcompensating with the bubbliness, but it's far better than breaking down and crying in front of him. It's almost become a game of not giving him what he wants... while still giving him what he wants.

"I got one question, though..." Cali whispers, lifting her lips to Chris' ear. "Are you a nice daddy? Or are you a n-naughty daddy who just wants to p-play... with me..."

She perseveres bravely through her sentence, which tastes like bitter medicine in her mouth, and places her hand on the outline of his hard-on. Already there's a small, wet puddle of precum soaking through the fabric. She starts to stroke him through his clothes.

"Mmm," Chris groans, his head tilting back towards the ceiling. "Was that a little hard for you to say, baby girl?" He gives her slender thigh a good, hard squeeze. "To answer your question, though, I'm a... I'm a... mmm... nice daddy. Real nice daddy... the kind that will--nngh--take care of you..."

Her "nice" daddy is currently bucking his hips into her palm on every downstroke, trying to reach behind her with two hungry hands to grope her tight ass. He leans over her and gives her a slobbery kiss on the cheek.

"You sure seem like a naughty daddy to me," Cali giggles, conspicuously wiping the spit off her face. "But that's okay. As long as you're nice to me most of the time, I don't mind being your fucktoy. I mean..." She slides onto his lap, straddling him with her slender legs. "All daddies wish their daughter would jerk them off once in a while, don't they?"

She doesn't even need to unzip his fly for him. He whips out his cock faster than she's ever seen a man move. He's fairly thick, but the most impressive thing is the amount of precum he's oozing onto his boxers. Cali generously takes his strained dick in her hand and spreads his mess all over her bare thighs before it gets anywhere else.

"Nngh, Stella..." Chris grunts as she starts to jerk him off in earnest. "I love you, baby... always loved you... always knew you was gonna make a beautiful woman someday."

That unnerves her deeply, but yet again she brushes it off. She's already too far in now, and she knows all that prospective cash is gonna evaporate before her eyes if he doesn't cum.

"I bet you wanna fuck me now, daddy," she whispers, relinquishing his cock briefly to rub herself up against it. The open slit of her teddy exposes her whole sex. There's no way Chris could really see it from this position, but she knows he can feel it. Cali continues to grind on him with her bare pussy, teasing him by almost letting him slip in a few times.

"Does that feel good, daddy? It's like you're really fucking me..."

"Fuck... yeah, feels real good," he moans. A man of few words and limited vocabulary. "I wanna fuck the shit out of you... wanna cum inside you, baby girl."

Cali reminds him that he's still fully dressed by helping him slip out of his blazer. "You know how taboo it is to want to fuck your own daughter, right?" It's starting to get a lot easier to play this game. She's just reciting a script now and as long as it stays that way, everything's fine.

"I do," he whispers. "But I love you so much, Stella..."

"I know, daddy," she laughs. "But I could never let my old man go all the way with me... don't wanna get pregnant or anything, that could be real bad."

"I don't care," he breathes. Cali unbuttons his white oxford shirt while she continues to grind on him. No surprise he's got the quintessential "dad bod". Hairy chest and a 12-pack beer belly, like he let himself go a long time ago.

Such a coarse man... with so much money, and such nice clothes...

"I know you don't care, but I need a little more convincing," she croons, delivering a peck on his neck, then a longer kiss. "Hmm... if daddy wants to cum in my pussy like the disgusting pervert he is, I'm gonna need an extra $200."

She's pushing it now, but she tells herself she doesn't mind giving him a little extra time.

"Anything you want, Stella," Chris breathes. Not even a lick of hesitation. He reaches in his pocket, pulls out his wallet, and hands her two hundred dollar bills. Like it's nothing.

Careful not to show too much excitement, Cali leans over and places it on the nightstand with the first extra hundred he gave her. "Thanks, daddy," she murmurs. "You'd really do anything for me..."

"You have no fucking idea, Stella, baby. I want you so bad."

Seven hundred dollars is making her feel bold as hell. "You wanna get me undressed now, daddy? Play with your daughter's tits and pussy?"

He moans so sharply that for a second she thinks he's gonna blow his load. She moves his needy hands to her tits, and he snakes them under lace-blue teddy. Immediately, her breasts are swallowed up by his palms. She giggles as he squeezes them, squishing them in every direction, playing with her nipples and pinching them between his fingers.

"Take it off for daddy, Stella baby," Chris murmurs. "Wanna see your beautiful tits..."

She shimmies it down to her waist. And just like that she's almost naked, sitting on his lap, totally vulnerable to whatever this depraved fucker is about to do to her.

"Shit, you are beautiful," Chris repeats himself in amazement. He begins to knead her tits her more aggressively, to the point it almost hurts and she squirms uncomfortably in his lap. That only seems to egg him on. He stops using his hands and puts his mouth on the gentle slope of her breast. She lightly slaps the back of his head when she realizes he's about to give her a lovebite.

He ignores the slap, but he does stop kissing her. Instead, he takes one of her puffy pink areolas into his mouth--she's always been insecure about them--and uses his tongue to tease her nipple, now embarrassingly erect. At the same time, he slides his fingers into the bottom half of her sheer teddy, fondling her engorged sex... and suddenly, as her moans are getting louder, something firm slips inside of her.

"Mmmh," she shudders, arcing her back so that her tits are even more exposed to him. "You know exactly what I like, daddy..."

"You're real fuckin' wet, Stella," Chris mumbles. "Like some kind of whore."

Oh, maybe he likes doing the possessive asshole bit. Fine. "I'm not a whore!" Cali pouts and flicks him on the nose. "Well... not anyone else's whore, at least."

Chris doesn't answer, but adds another finger to the one already inside of her, pounding faster and edging her clit with his knuckles as he slides in and out of her pussy. His mouth moves up her chest to her neck, kissing all the way except his kisses aren't so gentle and more like he's barely restraining himself from devouring her.

"No lips, daddy," she adds as he gives her a peck on her cheek. "Just keep that in mind."

"What if I gave you another hundred?" Chris offers, patting his pocket again. "I ain't got no disease."

Her eyes pop at that. Eight hundred already and he hasn't even put his cock inside her. She conducts an extremely brief cost-benefit analysis. She doesn't trust him at all, but... if she ever wants to get out of this place, she has to think like a robber baron.

"Okay, daddy," she says shyly. "Put another bill on the nightstand and then you can kiss me like I'm your girlfriend."

He does. He guides her hand to his dick, stiff and hard as a woodbeam. Except hot, and... leaking fluid.

"Are you sure you're not gonna cum if I stroke you like this?" she teases.

"Nope." For the first time, Chris grins at her. His teeth are yellow and crooked. "Don't matter, though. I can go forever with you, Stella girl."

Cali raises her mouth to his, reluctantly. That's all it takes for him to grab her head in his rough hands and start kissing her passionately. He thrusts his tongue into her mouth, forcing her to open wider, and as her lips spread apart he bites the bottom one. Hard. Instinctively, she jerks backwards, but his hands are right there keeping her from moving and she can't do anything about it. He tries to drive his insatiable tongue as far as can into her throat before coming up for air and going all gentle on her again. He grazes her face and lips with the lightest of touches, nibbles on them, then pushes a bit deeper, and deeper till; until he's tonguefucking her while she does her best to keep pumping his cock faster and faster, breathing soft sounds of arousal into his mouth.

Chris groans loudly. His hands drop to Cali's waist, using her for stability as his own hips jerk out of control. He squeezes her like a vice as he moans her name--her real name--and spurts a hot load of cum all over her thighs.

She makes a face of disgust.

"Didn't like that, did you?" he laughs. "Here, why don't you get all the way naked for me, and I'll come back with a towel to wipe yourself with."

She slips out of the thin piece of fabric that had long since ceased to fulfill its purpose of concealing her tits. She tries to ignore the sensation of trickling between her legs. When Chris comes back to her, he's fully naked as well.

"Oh, wow," Cali grins. "Does this mean you're ready to go for round two? You might have to go out there and request another hour with me..."

"Do I?" He raises a bushy eyebrow. "What's gonna happen if I just throw some more money at ya?"

"Well... she'll knock and tell you your time is up. But, if you want, I won't say no to a little more..."

"Good to know, sweetheart. But... hmm, I don't think it's been an hour yet." He smiles saccharinely. "I trust you'll be watchin' the clock. I been counting how many times you glanced at it, so far it's averaged about every three minutes."

Cali glares at him.

"Stella baby, did your mommy ever tell you anything about your daddy?" Chris forces her back into the roleplay with a caress of her chin.



His tone is different now. She doesn't like it at all.

"I'd rather not talk about it." Cali smiles and rubs her tits to distract him. She gives an exaggerated moan. "Daddy, I can't wait much more, I need you inside of me..."

But Chris keeps pressing her. "You remember him a little, don't you?" He whispers, rubbing his rapidly-hardening cock on her slit. "He didn't leave until you were in kindergarten, isn't that right?"

She looks at him in terror. Real, genuine terror. The painfully awkward man of thirty minutes ago has completely evaporated, and she realizes for the first time that she might have really met her theatrical match.

"Who... who are you?"

"No one you'd know, probably," Chris murmurs. His other hand constricts around her wrist. "Never got the chance to meet you. Only heard about you, from him. While we was in jail together."

"He--he was in jail?"

"Oh yeah," Chris grins malevolently. "You didn't know that? Guess your momma didn't want you to know that he stabbed a man to death. Drug deal gone bad."

Cali's head is spinning right now. "He... what? You... you were in jail with him? I d-don't understand..."

Chris rests more of his hairy bulk on her body, bearing down on her with his beer belly just enough to make it so she can't fully breathe. "Oh, yeah. I was there when he did it."

It's not even in her mind anymore to distrust this man. She has no doubt that he is exactly whoever he says he is. From the beginning, he's been dropping hints that she was too desperate for cash to acknowledge. And the look on his face now is... fucking wild, honestly. This isn't just some ordinary john. His big hands and strong arms and thick chest are quickly becoming much less dad-like, and much more frightening, to her. And... is that a scar right under his clavicle?

"I just... I just wanna know who you are," Cali begs him. "Please, just tell me..."

"Aha." Now he grabs her other wrist, taking away her last possibility of escaping his weight. And, just like that, he slides into her pussy. At first she flinches, tightening up in an attempt to keep him out. But then her self-conditioning kicks in and she can't help but relax in response to the sudden surge of warmth inside her.

"Mmm... let me fuck you a little, baby," he murmurs lasciviously. "Get you real worked up, make you feel good. Then I'll tell you."

"Okay..."

She tries to argue back, but the fight in her vanishes as Chris starts pounding her so hard and fast she can feel his balls slapping against her. His big belly is drenched in sweat and the droplets roll off onto her, making her cringe with disgust. But that doesn't faze him. He slams her pussy again and again, like some horrible machine, and the gleam in his eyes is so fucking scary, but... somehow, so fucking hot.

He plants his mouth onto hers as he fucks her, forcing her to choose between holding back her moans or swallowing the spit from his throat. She sure as hell can't do the former. To force him further deep inside of her, as deep as possible, she arcs her back and pushes up against him whenever he delivers a powerful thrust. Every time his dick rubs up against G-spot it sends shocks of pure electricity to her clit. She knows she's whimpering and it's making him go even faster, breathe even heavier. A jagged gasp punctuates the space between each one of his pumps, and to her sensitive ears his guttural moans are loud enough to shake the room.

"You like this, Stella?" Chris growls, letting go for a second so he can fondle her tits. "Not surprised a girl like you loves being dominated by an awful piece of shit like me."

"Uh, umm--"

He wipes a thread of drool off her chin. "You know, you was wet before when I was just fuckin' you with my fingers, but now you're drippin' like a faucet. A regular slip-n-slide," he chuckles.

Stella can feel her face flushing, realizing that he'd turned her on in earnest.

"Don't worry, I love it too," he continues in a low voice. "I love watching your face, how your expression changes when your brain's in charge and it tells you to be afraid. And then your horny little cunt takes over and starts begging me to fuck you until you can't walk no more."

"N-no," is all she can manage before another gasp escapes her throat. He switches to a slower, more tantalizing pace, letting her feel every inch of his cock as it slides in and out of her pussy. And if that wasn't evil enough, he presses on her clit with a devious finger. Rubbing it in circles, slowly, not fast enough to get her closer to climax but just fast enough to keep her hungry for it.

"Go a little faster, daddy," she begs. "Please, it's so unfair..."

"Now you get how I feel, baby girl," Chris smirks. "Hearing about you day in and day out, with not even a chance in hell to see your pretty face, to fuck you... didn't even know if I was gonna get out. If they knew what I was doing right now they'd put me back in," he laughs. "Where your precious daddy is."

That shocks her to her senses. Stella blinks, clearing the haze from her moon-grey eyes. "You haven't told me who you are yet," she trembles.

His gaze turns cold. He lets go of her fingerprinted breasts and grabs her wrists, holding her down like before. Like he's expecting her to try and bolt.

"I'm Mitch," he says. "Short for Mitchell. Harvey's younger brother."

Harvey.

Her dad's name.

Stella feels very cold all of a sudden. She can't talk. She can't even think. He has to spell it out for her.

Literally.

"Harvey's brother," he repeats. "You know, like, your uncle. U-N-C-L-E. Uncle."

"What the fuck," Stella mutters. Her face burns.

"Yeah. So you get what's happening now, smarty pants?"

She doesn't acknowledge him externally, but running through her head is everything he's said so far. In the light of this sudden truth it's all far more disgusting and depraved than she could have guessed at the time. Worst of all he had waited, letting her get him off while she thought he was only some creepy old guy. Probably fucking enjoying how easily he'd tricked his niece into doing all that shit, begging him to rub her clit, to cum inside her... all the dialogue is speed-running through her mind right now like a DVD on fast forward. No wonder he was willing to drop so much cash for just an hour...

"So, you gonna say it?" he goads her. A wicked grin spreads across his face, his jagged teeth on full display. "I already blew my load all over your sexy little thighs, it's nothing to let me fuck you until I cum inside you, right?"

It doesn't make her feel better. It devastates her, and he can tell. He sees the tears accumulating in the corner of her eyes.

"Look, Stella, there's another two hundred in it for you," Mitch says, callously. "A whole thousand fucking dollars. Is that enough to let your uncle use your cunt, just this once? Shit, girl, I ain't even your dad."

Fuck it.

Nothing matters anymore. Nothing ever mattered, except for money; anything else that mattered is gone. It was gone the moment their eyes locked in the foyer of Maison de Belles.

"Fine..."

Mitch shakes his head at her like he's disappointed. "You know, if you'd said no to that, I would've offered another thousand." He grins, stroking her clit lazily. "How many men in this world get to hear their pretty fuckdoll of a niece begging for 'em to let her cum?"

"Not you," she snaps.

"Yes, me," Mitch sneers darkly. "I know too much about your perverted little self to not know how to get you squirming like a pornstar."

Stella stares up at the ceiling in silence.

"All right, then, let's try it. See how well I know you. Got any objections, babydoll?"

She makes no move to acknowledge him. The wallpaper above her head has become very fascinating all of the sudden.

"Good, then. Let's see... you're all grown now, and only a smidge as innocent as when your daddy was around, right? I bet you been thinking about doing anything you can to get your daddy back, haven't you? Any girl would. All this time, you been wondering if there was something you could do to earn his love. Ain't that right?"

"Not really..."

Mitch ignores her and keeps on rolling. "You thought about it all the time. Anything and everything... and the way you saw how men act when they're in 'love' made you wonder if that's what your daddy would have liked, too. And being around all these sleazy jerks, enacting their illegal fantasies with you day in and day out... it probably hasn't helped at all, hm? You been thinkin', what if this would make my daddy come home? And eventually you started to conflate missing him with... wanting to fuck him."

So many hateful words are swirling in her mind right now that she can't even pick one to say. Instead, she musters up a glob of saliva and spits on him.

"Aha!" Mitch laughs, unfazed, gleefully wiping the loogie off his nose. "Don't get me wrong, baby, I love your little primadonna act. But look down... you been leakin' all over my cock this whole damn time."

Stella looks down in shame at her slick thighs.

He's right.

"What got you all sticky? Could it be... you was thinkin' about your daddy face-fucking you while swearin' up and down he'll never ever leave you again?" Mitch laughs cruelly. "Cute as hell, if you ask me."

What an evil bastard.

"Well, I ain't your dad, but I kind of look like him," he shrugs. "Just a little fatter and taller. You can call me daddy, or you can call me uncle... gets me fuckin' crazy either way." He licks his lips diabolically. "It's how us humans were born, you know, dads and daughters and uncles and nieces sleeping around with each other, moms and sons, just using each other's bodies to get off... it's how we was made to be, Stella. The instinct never goes away."

She looks up at him in a daze.

"What I'm sayin' is, you ain't wrong for wanting your horny old uncle to pump his nasty, illegal cum straight into your pretty little womb."

She tries to analyze her situation as coldly and indifferently as possible, as if it's not her body that's splayed out on the bed right now, at the mercy of the man on top of it. Try as she might, though, her mind stays right where it is, swarmed by a plague of memories and desperate loneliness, and over it all shadow of hot arousal that's always made everything okay when she was hurting, blinding her to the world and the reality of the constant embraces of fathers she didn't love. The only thing that ever feels good, juxtaposed over the only thing that she ever thought would make her feel good... he was right. By the way Mitch is looking at her now, she must be making some pretty good facial expressions.

"Let me guess, sweetheart," he croons, tucking a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. "You're ready to admit you have daddy issues."

"Just hurry up and cum," Stella mutters. She pushes his chest away and spreads her legs limply, prepared to dead-starfish her way into the fourth circle of Hell.

"Stella," Mitch says sharply. "You might be my niece, but you're at work. So fucking"--he grabs her hips roughly--"act"--he flops backwards onto the bed--"like it!"

With that, he pulls her all the way on top of him. The maneuver was so smooth, and his dick so hard, that he's still inside of her when she's sitting up, straddling his waist. He's beneath her now, yet it still feels like he's the one in control.

"You can skip the roleplay now." His voice has softened to a deep, husky murmur. "I want to see the real you. Not that overpriced whore Cali... but my cute niece, who loved to play in the dirt and wrestle.... who always asked if she could see her uncle soon... who had everyone wrapped around her little finger from the sound of it. Your dad always said that you were like him, but smarter... fiercer... and beautiful."

The look in his eyes is almost like real affection. But she can't trust herself to read him after he managed to convince her to bluster past every single red flag he waved front of her. This man--her uncle--isn't like anyone she's ever met. She thought she knew what evil looked like before... but Mitch is far beyond that.

Yet that's the one thing that keeps her from bolting now. His body is totally relaxed, she senses that he wouldn't stop her if she went screaming down the hall. But by breaking her apart he became the only person in the world who really knows her. Despite how fucked up it is, what he's doing to her, she's never felt so...

...loved?

"I do," he whispers. Reading her mind yet again.

"I wish you'd stop doing that."

"You get it from somewhere," Mitch chuckles.

Stella shivers. She feels cold and hot at the same time, sweaty from exertion but wracked with the noxious chills of cognitive dissonance. Mitch is staring, fixated on what his thick cock looks like while it's stretching out her hole. He groans with anticipation, grinding into her. Cautiously, she rocks forwards, not willing to bring her whole weight down--that would mean he'd be all the way inside of her, and--ugh--the reality hits her again. She's fucking her uncle.

"You shy now, Stella baby?" He places his hand on her right breast, massaging it slowly, playing with her nipple. "Start by not thinking about it--that might help."

She nods, offering up her first real smile to him. He smiles back. It relaxes her enough that she realizes she's been holding her breath this whole time.

Stella presses her thighs against his hips and locks her feet under his legs like a brace, using leverage to thrust his cock deeper into her cunt while she melts into him. His toes curl as she does it again but this time flattens her firm breasts against his chest, nestling her head in the crook of his neck. Following his instincts, Mitch grabs the meat of her ass like he's steering a motorbike, and pulls her down onto him. She writhes on top of him like a stripper. Their respective gyrations begin to synchronize before Stella realizes it. She can tell when they're moving together by her uncle's moans; every time his dick reaches maximum depth in her pussy he releases the same loud animal grunt that initially tricked her into thinking he was about to cum. But now she knows it's just like him calling her name.

"Mmm... Stella baby," he groans. "If only your daddy could see you now."

"Don't say that," she scolds, but it comes out like a whimper.

"I meant it--ngh--as a compliment," he exhales. "Just try--mmm--not cumming from watchin' your niece's perky tits bounce up and down while you're fuckin' her... it's impossible..."

"You're not done already... right, uncle?" Emphasizing the dirty word with a pout, she renews her assault, riding him more eagerly, stabilizing herself with one hand on his hip so she can grind into him more deeply without sacrificing the smoothness of her rhythm. With her other hand she starts to play with her clit, watching his eyes dart down to where's she's touching herself with her slender fingers.

"Fuck, girl, slow down!" Mitch inhales sharply, arching his back and nearly sending her off the bed. "I'm about to fuckin' explode--"

"Make me cum first," she hisses, leaning in very close to his ear.

"What in the fuck--?" Stella enjoys watching the agony on his face as he tries to force himself off the brink of orgasm. "Shit, you gotta be close now, right? Right?"

She is, but she doesn't tell him. "I'll keep going," she states, matter-of-factly. "If you touch me."

"Anything for you, princess," Mitch sneers. "You're acting so different already... remember that poor, tragic Daphne from earlier who was beggin' for her uncle to stop making her pussy feel good? What happened to her?"

"Don't you like this version more?"

Mitch laughs. "Of course I do," he says gently. "Makes it a lot easier on both of us."

The implication being, of course, I'd take you either way. Sick fuck he is, though, he obliges her request, lightly swatting her hand away. He begins teasing her clit with his heavy, rough index finger, as big as two of her own. Stella moans as his touch firms up, and the pressure becomes great enough to send waves of pleasure directly into her spine. He moves one of his hands onto her belly, caressing the area around her navel, concentrating the pleasure coming from both above and beneath her in one burning-hot circle. One of his fingers creeps around from behind and locates her asshole, which makes her giggle and squirm as she futilely tries to prevent him from slipping it inside of her.

"I can't hold it anymore, I'm serious," he gasps. "If you let me play with your ass--"

"Mmm, it's okay," Stella moans, turning her sultry noises into kisses as she breathes against his lips. "I'm almost--nn--there, too..."

"Goddamn," Mitch breathes. "I can't believe what I'm hearin', you moanin' like that... fuck, Stella, you're such a good niece... ngh!"

His words turn into gasps and grunts as thrusts into her as hard as he can, and in the dizzy-headed throes of pleasure she imagines him pumping her insides full to the brim with his pent-up, incestuous lust. A vision of the most horrific outcome flashes in her mind--and it's not his finger teasing her sensitive taint or the sensation of his cock splitting her apart, but it's that vision--the most taboo thing of all, the thing that should have made her parents stay together, forever--that makes her cum.

She squeezes his body like she's trying to wrench his soul from his flesh and half-cries, half-moans into his shoulder, trying to muffle her voice, but she can't control everything at once and she shudders; shaking to her very core. Somewhere in between her heaves Mitch calls her name.

As she comes down from her high into the present depravity of her uncle caressing her body, Stella remembers the money. The bills sit there on the nightstand, cementing everything she's allowed Mitch to do to her. There's a sinking pit within her chest, but also a strange feeling of elation.

As their grey eyes lock together, each holding the other captive, Stella realizes she can finally read her uncle's thoughts. She can decipher what he's thinking, as much as he can decipher her.

I'll see you again, Stella baby.